#v: the dance goes for a little longer

[worldsfinestknights]

Verse Drops

AU Verses that will be added for muses; check their muse bios for the details!

[sturnlsstuff]

GENTLEMAN | matt sturniolo

loser!matt x partygirl!reader

matt gets dragged to a party, when he meets the "party queen" who definitely doesn't find him terribly boring like he thought she would, which she makes sure he understands.

requested by @mattsobvimyfav . divider credits. @anitalenia

— warnings; smutty smut, sub!matt, soft!dom!reader, making out, blowjob, riding, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, whiny matt (hot alert), pet names (pretty/good boy, baby, sweetheart...) cursing, praise kink lowkey, mentions of weed, cigs and alcohol, — english isn't my first language.

women like you were out of the league for guys like matt. you were a typical popular girl, partying every week and not like normal people did. you were the queen of the dance floor. party queen, that's how people called you. everyone with eyes and a brain admired the graceful way you carried yourself around. never missing parties, always staying until the very end, usually your friends had to carry you out of the building due to the excess alcohol in your blood and inability to stand on your own feet. when you were telling a joke, everyone laughed. when you were taking shots, so did others, that's how convincing you were.

you could have any guy you wanted, but no one was perfect for your standards. you were admired by girls who wanted to be like you and guys who wanted you.

matt was one of those people. he admired you.

he didn't know you well as a person who kept away from people. he was an observer type, only talked to his closest friends, of whom he had few. maybe even a little shy, that's what people called him, but really when he felt comfortable? he could be so interesting.

he had never talked to you before, only ever heard about you or knew what he had noticed. matt wasn't the party type, usually was practically dragged out of the comfort of his room. he didn't like looking for adventures. and today? some girl that his brothers were friends with, and that matt knew by sight, had a birthday and of course chris and nick once again dragged him out of the house for the party, ignoring his complaints. so that's how he found himself in this house full of rich, drunk kids, loud music blasting in his ears, every now and then someone would trip over his legs, causing him to roll his eyes. he sat half the party on the couch in the corner of the main room, arms crossed and beer in hand. he really wanted to go home, but his brothers would kill him if he didn't last until midnight. half an hour left.

unable to bear it any longer, he finally goes outside where the music was a little muffled, giving him the feeling of getting to breathe again. maybe that was the case. being surrounded by so many people was overwhelming. he lights a cigarette, which was his little addiction but helped him relax, and leans against the wall, praying that the minutes go by faster.

he started getting more and more relaxed, finally at peace, tilting his head back and blowing out clouds of smoke until he heard giggles. his eyes immediately opening, noticing you and your two friends coming out from behind the building and walking crookedly towards him, you searching for something in your purse. he would recognize the party queen everywhere.

"... i can't find it!! i swear i had it!!" you laugh, giving up with whatever you wanted to find, your purse slips off your shoulder just by the front door of the house, right next to where matt was standing. he automatically bends down and hands it to you, drawing the attention of you and your friends to him, which makes his heart beat faster. "oh helloooo, thank you," a smile appears on your face, that brings a slight warmth to his cheeks.

"yeah, no problem," he tries to keep it cool, scratching the back of his neck nervously. you look at your friends, gasping playfully, "ohhh, maybe this gentleman will have a lighter—" your gaze goes back to his blue eyes that were now wide. "do you have a lighter??? i think i lost mine!"

"a what— oh—" he snaps out of his trance, staring too hard at you which makes him blush even more. you were so beautiful. he clears his throat, "yeah, uh, i have one..." he hands it to you, your friends giggling at his nervousness, while you thought he's being really cute. "here you go."

"you're a life saveeeerrrrr," you're about to start searching for the cigarettes but he's quick to pass his own pack to you. "oh god, you're like an angel," your grin widens as you take a cigarette from him, putting it between your lips and lighting it up.

"girlll, my song is playing! can you hurry up?" your friend complains, causing you to roll your eyes.

"just go, i'll come in a minute."

"you sure?"

"yeah, go," you repeat yourself and stand next to matt who was leaning against the wall against, his heart pounding in his chest. he could feel your perfume mixed with... weed, perhaps? you give him the lighter and cigarettes back with a simple 'thank you'.

you both stand next to each other in silence that was starting to weigh on him, but he wasn't able to speak first. you both smoke your cigarettes when you finally look at him again. dressed all in black, a beer in one hand, on which you notice tattoos. oh, he's handsome as fuck.

"so" you speak up, getting his attention. "does this gentleman have a name?"

he smiles shyly, overwhelmed by your beauty. "i'm matt."

"matt," you repeat, tasting his name on your tongue. "i like it. suits you."

the way you repeat his name makes him feel both uncomfortable and strangely excited at the same time. he rubs the back of his neck nervously again, blowing out the smoke, just as you say your name too. he gives you a glance, "i know."

"oh, do you?" a smirk appears on your lips as you take another drag. he replies hesitantly, "well, i mean... who doesn't?"

you nod confidently, "right." your eyes travel to his tattooed arm again, feeling your stomach twisting in knots at the sight. he catches it and looks down at his arm as well. "i like them. make you look hotter," you confess.

he blinks, caught of guard by your words. he wasn't really used to people, especially not girls like you, saying things like that to him. mostly because he barely was leaving his house. he feels his heart race, a warmth spreading through his chest. "thanks."

"of course," you respond casually, checking him out once again before looking away with a small smile and taking another drag of the cigarette. you were slightly high, not really that drunk yet and you knew what you were doing. his awkwardness was so cute, there was no way you'd let this man go so quickly tonight. you actually felt like you need to have him.

matt finishes his beer in one swing, putting the empty bottle aside, causing your attention to get back to him.

the more you looked at him, the more he reminded you of someone, but there was no way you talked or even seen matt before. though, you decide to ask, "wait, don't i know you already?"

he raises his eyebrow, locking eyes with you. "me? i don't think so." i would definitely want you to, he thinks.

"oh, 'cause i feel like i do. or maybe you just remind me of someone—"

"i'm a triplet. you probably know my brothers."

"ohhh, wait—" you snap your fingers, trying to remember. "yeah, chris and— and nick? oh, now i know. never seen you before though. lowkey thought they're bullshitting about being triplets."

matt smiles amused, taking one last drag and throwing the butt of the cigarette on the ground, trampling it with his shoe. "yeah, m'not really out going."

"i see," you nod, smiling back. "i'd definitely remember you."

he chuckles softly, feeling his face warm at your words again. damn, get your shit together matthew. "really, huh?"

"yeah. with this looks and that—?" you point at his tattoos. "i promise, i would remember."

you didn't feel like beating around the bush, you liked him. he was extremely handsome, his hair looked so soft you wanted to run your hand through it, his eyes made you weak in your knees and his lips begged to be kissed. not to mention the aura he had around him, he intrigued you. matt was different than the rest of those assholes you met at parties.

he looks away shyly, the smile on his face makes your heart flutter. literal butterflies — something you've never had before.

you finish the cigarette in a comfortable silence, getting slightly overwhelmed after the weed you smoked before. leaning against the wall, your shoulder brushes against his, drawing his attention back to you.

"you good?"

"mhm, it's that cigarette, give me a second."

he nods, watching as you throw the rest of it aside. "okay. jus' don't go passing out on me."

"hey, i'm not that drunk i can even stand on my hands if you want. look—" you're literally bending over in front of him, hands on the ground, and you're ready to do it, but he quickly grabs your waist, forcing you to straighten up. matt tried his hardest not to look at your ass and the way your short dress rode up. his pants suddenly start to grow tighter but he ignores it.

"you better not—"

with a giggle, you turn around to face him, the feelings of his hands sends a shiver down your spine. "i could easily do that."

"sure," he raises his eyebrow, the blush on his cheeks only growing because of the closeness. "i don't think i'd know what to do with a drunk and unconscious party queen on my hands, if you did that."

"right, okay." you bite down on your bottom plump lip, which doesn't go unnoticed by him. "but what would you do with a slighty tipsy and definitely conscious party queen on your hands, hm?"

his eyes sparkle with amusement, heart rate subtly increasing at your promixity. "well, that's a pretty open-ended question," he replies, his voice low and gentle. "depends on the party queen personality and how she's feeling."

oh, he's funny.

"and if the party queen is feeling perfectly fine and have the best personality ever?"

the air between you two suddenly feeling charged with an unexpected, but pleasant tension. matt could feel himself getting more and more worked up. he tried to be the gentleman that handed you the purse a few minutes ago, or gave you a cigarette and a lighter, but it was getting hard. especially now, when he realizes his hands are still on your waist and you don't seem to mind at all.

"oh, in that case i'd probably just try to keep up 'n hope her great personality doesn't find me too terribly boring."

"nah, i think she finds you pretty intriguing actually." you tilt your head to the side, eyes dropping to his lips before moving back up. oh, those lips.... "and if she wanted to show you just how bad?"

he swallows hard, "you mean, hypothetically... if she wanted to show me she's interested?"

"mhm, yeah. exactly what i mean," you lean in, giving him time to push you away, but he doesn't. oh, he would never. he wanted you so bad, knowing he's just one of hundreds of your simps, but it was the last thing on his mind right now. all he wanted is to feel your lips on his.

and he finally did.

closing the gap between you two, you kiss him softly, what he does too after a moment. his initial hesitation melting into reciprocation as your lips move against his. his hands, unsure at first, eventually move down to your hips, pulling you gently closer. your fingers tangling into his messy, soft hair, pushing him slightly against the wall, getting a hum in approval. matt starts relaxing against you, letting you set the pace and tone for your interaction. as you take your time, he finds himself growing more comfortable and excited. he would never think it would happen. with you out of all people.

the kiss starts getting more and more heated, you grow slightly impatient, feeling the ache between your legs starting to grow. you press your body closer to him, hand traveling up and down his chest, your tongues dancing together. once he feels how gently you bite his lip, a small whine leaves him, your mind spins and definitely not because of the amount of alcohol or weed you've consumed.

you break the kiss, both of you panting as you mutter against his lips, "come with me, yeah?" getting a weak nod in response, you're fast to make your way back into the crowded house, dragging matt behind you by his wrist.

his palms start to sweat as you take him upstairs and reach some empty room, pushing him inside. the noise of the party fading behind you two once you kick the door shut and attack his lips again.

matt is overwhelmed but in the best way possible. his senses are filled with your sweet scent, the tension growing in his pants with each second. his eagerness showing in his tentative exploration, but offset by an earnest enthusiasm. he lets out a soft sigh into the kiss, surrendering to your lead. he hits the bed and falls onto the mattress, you climbing on top of him, straddling his thighs. he gasps softly as your weight presses down on him in the most distracting and exhilarating way. his hands instinctively find their way to your hips again, gripping slightly as he tries to adjust to this new position.

breaking the kiss, you start trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, his head tilts back unconsciously, giving you better access to his skin. his whole body shivers at the delicate touches of your lips, a soft moan escaping him as you hit a particularly sensitive spot, sucking on it to intentionally mark him.

his reaction brings a smile to your face and you look up to see him in such a cute state. messy hair, cheeks reddish, his pink lips swollen from the make out as he lets out heavy breaths.

"look at you, pretty boy."

his eyelids flutter open, revealing pupils dilated with desire. matt touches the mark on his neck lightly, fingers tracing where you'd sucked. "that's..." he clears his throat, feeling his face flush even more. the way you look at him is both intimidating and incredibly hot.

"hm? you like it?"

"y-yeah, that's really... good," he admits.

you just couldn't help yourself, he was so majestic, really. the way he was clearly trying not to rush or throw himself at you, makes you want to give him all the pleasure in the world so he wouldn't be able to forget about this evening, no matter how hard he'd try.

"want more?"

his eyes darken slightly, voice hoarse with lust, "that wouldn't be really... gentleman of me, hm?"

you smile, finding him amusing. "oh, but i'm proposing this to you, not the other way around. so...?" you whisper against his lips, "how it's gonna be, baby?"

this time he captures your lips in a kiss, wanting to show you how much he wants— no, craves you, hoping this is enough of a response.

a wave of heat washes over you, hands traveling under his shirt which steals another whine from matt. you had never been so turned on before in such a short amount of time, automatically starting to move your hips and grind down against him, feeling how hard he was beneath you. pride overwhelms you at the feeling of how much he's affected by you, the want for him even bigger than before.

his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. he can feel you moving on his lap, the friction driving him crazy. your tongue explores his mouth, lips clicking against his. his hands shaky on your body from the desire he felt. "you can touch me, matt..." you pant against his plump lips, pressing your clothed, soaked core against his dick harder.

"y'feel so good..." his eyes are glassy with lust as he looks up at you. his chest is heaving, and he bites his lip, trying to compose himself when he finally allows his hands to explore your body.

"mhm, i can feel how bad you want me," you keep grinding against him, the friction causing you both to whimper. "is really cute.... and hot— you know?"

"please—" his eyes flutter shut from pleasure, your hands teasing him just above the waistband of his jeans. "what is it, baby?" you bite back a smile at his desperate expression.

"just... i need you please— can you..." his breath is coming in ragged gasps now, and he feels both embarrassed and completely exhilarated. his hips rise slightly to meet yours, a natural response to the overwhelming sensation. his body aches for more contact, more friction, more of you.

"can i what? c'mon, you gotta ask nicely if you want something." you're teasing, torturing him purposely, enjoying how adorable he gets when his shyness takes over. "look at me, matt."

blushing intensely, he opens his eyes and stammers out, "can you... i mean, would you... with your mouth?" he immediately looks mortified at his own boldness, his cheeks flaming red as he quickly adds, "sorry, i didn't mean to presume—"

"i think you did mean it though," you smile softly, licking your lips. his words and the image that just popped up in your head makes your pussy pulse. "how can i say no when you're being such a good boy for me?" you press kisses to his neck just as he whines again, your hands already working on his belt. his eyes watching as his jeans and boxers get pushed down his legs. he gasps as the cool air hits his exposed lower half, his body trembling slightly. his dick twitches as you kneel on the mattress between his legs, looking at him in awe. "just relax."

he nods quickly, trying to calm himself. his chest is rising and falling rapidly, hands fumble anxiously with the hem of his shirt unsure what to do with them. is not like he was inexperienced, he was in a relationship before, but having you, the popular party girl that everyone wanted, between his legs was definitely making him more nervous than he would usually be.

you put your hair up into a messy ponytail, his body immediately tensing up. he can feel the blood rushing to his cock, making it throb with anticipation. he tries to relax his legs, spreading them wider to give you better access. you stop just above his tip, looking up at him with a smile at the messy state he was already in, even if you didn't start yet. "gonna say a magic word?"

he swallows hard, his blush deepens, "please."

his eyes dart between your face and his hard, leaking with precum dick, hardly believing this is really happening. but it feels real, when you give him a kitty lick before starting to suck on his tip. a strangled moan escapes matt's lips, his hips involuntarily twitching upwards. the sensation is electric, his hands fist in the sheets beneath him, grasping desperately for some form of anchor. "o-oh, fuck—"

your tongue is swirling around his tip teasingly, before you take him deeper, his eyes roll back in his head, breath catching in his throat. he can feel every ridge and curve of your mouth, the wet heat almost more than he can bear. a shaky whimper escapes him, hands slide up to tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as he fights the urge to buck his hips forward.

he was so big, the choking sounds echoing in the room, saliva dripping down your chin. hollowing your cheeks, you start bobbing your head up and down, nose brushing against his pelvis. "s-shit.... feels so good— mmmm, fu—ckkk--" his entire body shudders, he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, completely captivated by the sight. the sounds alone are enough to make him dizzy with desire. his breathing becomes more ragged, mingling with the wet sounds of your mouth. "oh god..." he whimpers. you're breathing through your nose, focusing on his tip again, your hand working on the rest of him. the sensation combined with your mouth is incredible, almost too much to process. matt bites his lip hard, suppressing a loud moan, but it still escapes as more of a choked groan. "fuck, please—"

he was completely out of it, a big whining mess, his hips uncontrollably lifting upwards, his tip hitting the back of your throat. his toes curl as he feels the mounting pressure, his entire body tingling with exquisite tension while you suck on his dick like on a lollipop, being all messy with it, gagging every now and then. panting heavily, he tugs gently at your hair, "w-wait, m'gonna.... m'so close, wait—" you hum in approval, wanting to taste him on your tongue. it sends vibrations through him, another whimper escaping him. you speed up your movements, matt automatically starts thrusting up into your mouth as his orgasm approaches, "f-fuck, sorry, i.... i can't— shittt, gonna cum— can i... oh—"

he's lost at this point, his head threw back, a loud, unrestrained moan ripping from his throat as you resume your actions. his hips lift off the bed, pressing himself deeper into your mouth, getting another moan from you. the sight was hypnotizing, his flushed features, the way he tried to muffle his moans by chewing on his bottom lip. you were dripping, clenching around nothing just from watching him.

with a choked cry, his entire body convulses as he finds his release, pulse after pulse of ecstasy flooding through him. his fingers fist so tightly in your hair that he's vaguely aware it might hurt, but he can't seem to loosen his grip. you whimper around him, tasting him on your tongue and swallowing everything. your tongue swirl around his sensitive tip one more time before pulling out with a wet pop. his vision blurs, heart pounding in his chest. he lets go off your hair, your eyes meeting his, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. damn.

his face flushed with heat as he smiles, "holy fuck."

"holy fuck indeed," you lick your lips, the sight so intimate and erotic for him that he feels his spent dick twitch in response. "that was, like, amazing—" he mutters, still struggling to find his voice.

you chuckle, moving so now you were on top of him again, hands on each side of his head. "what a shame that we met so late," you say, running your hand through his hair, a shiver going down his spine.

"i was supposed to leave at midnight," he admits. your eyebrow raises, "oh really?" he nods, "yeah, not a fan of parties."

"well... i'm glad you didn't have the chance to leave then."

"me too." he pulls you into another desperate kiss, tasting himself on your tongue, getting a hum in surprise. he was clearly eager for more. your fast to roll your dress up around your waist, grabbing his hand and directing it between your legs. when he feels how soaked your panties were, he can't help but whimper again. "feel it, baby?" you break the kiss, looking at him, his eyes darken with lust. "that's allll because of you."

his gaze travels over your body, taking in the curves he's only ever imagined. he swallows hard, his voice hoarse with need. "please, i need you..."

"you're so cute when you beg," you smile biting down on your plump lip. removing your underwear, you position yourself just above his tip, letting him feel the wet warmth, teasing him mercilessly. matt whines softly, his body tensing with the need to thrust into you and finally feel you. "what was that, hm? tell me what you want, matt."

"need you... to ride me— please—"

"need me, hm? and how bad?"

he whines again, louder this time, his hips bucking slightly in an attempt to get him inside you. "so bad," he pants, his voice barely recognizable in his desperation. "please, please, please..." he chants, his voice cracking with need.

"gooood boy," you praise, his words getting you even wetter. wrapping your hand around his cock, you give him a few strokes before slowly sinking down on him. "begging so pretty— f-fuck...." the sudden feeling of your warm, tight pussy enveloping his aching dick is almost too much for matt to handle. he throws his head back, a loud, wordless whimper tearing from his throat as he's sheathed inside you, a moan leaving your lips as well at his reaction. "shit, you're so big—" you stay still to adjust, lifting your dress higher to be more comfortable. you feel his dick twitching inside you after your words. amused written all over your face when you look at him, "you like it, hm? who would've know you're so naughty...."

matt's hands tremble as they grip your hips, trying desperately to hold back the urge to grind into you. his breath comes in short, sharp bursts as he savors the exquisite tightness gripping him.

"feels good?" you slowly start moving, he nods his head weakly, words caught in his throat as he tries to speak around the lump formed by his swallowed moan. "mmm, holy shit, matt—" his cock is buried so deeply inside you that it makes you see stars for a moment. you crave more of him, so you start speeding up the pace.

"so... good..." he manages to rasp out, his eyes rolling back briefly before snapping forward to lock onto yours again. "you're...too much..."

"yeah? want me to stop?" you mock him a little bit, knowing that's the last thing he wants.

he shakes his head frantically, a sheepish grin spreading across his flushed face. "no, no...don't stop. i meant...fuck, you're just so tight— fuckkk, feels incredible." he bucks his hips slightly, emphasizing his enthusiasm, his nails dig into your hips, his body tensing as he tries to pull you down further onto him.

"you're doing perfect for me, baby—" you moan out, putting one hand on his chest as you start moving your hips harder, your attention drawn to his tattoos. the sight of his arm causes you to painfully clench around him, your pussy gripping him like a vice. he hisses at the feeling, it drives him wild. "shit, just like that—"

you both aren't able to hold back your moans, letting them spill out one after another. each thrust pushes you both into ecstasy, your hand on his chest the only thing anchoring him to reality. matt's hands slide up your sides, then down to your thighs, marveling the soft skin beneath his fingers.

matt notices the way your eyes are locked onto his tattoos and it makes his dick throb even harder inside you. "god, matt— mmhpp, oh my...." you lean forward, needing some balance as your legs start growing tired, your hands on each side of his head. he reaches up to your waist, guiding your movements as he lifts his hips to meet each thrust. "f-fuck— you're so beautiful..."

your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, eyes rolling back as you feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel it as well, which pushes him over the edge too. "gonna cum for me, pretty boy?" you choke out, looking down at him through half-open eyes.

"mhmm, fuck—" he pants, his own face contorted with pleasure. he sees the concentration on your face, the beads of sweat forming on your collarbone. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down onto him even harder. "s-so close... shiiit—"

"me too," you whine into his ear. "fuck..." his grip tightens on your waist as his release builds. his movements become more urgent, more desperate. "tell me... mm— tell me how you want it, sweetheart—" he knows he won't last much longer, not with how perfectly you're stretching around him.

"inside me—"

"y-yeah?" his voice breaking as he feels you clench around him again. "you want me to fill you up?"

"mhmmm—" you moan just as he whimpers again, what pushes you into a state of bliss, euphoria consumes you as your orgasm crashes down over you, your hips stuttering.

once he feels you creaming around him, and the pretty — mesmerizing moans, oh he's too far gone. matt's control snaps, he buries himself as deep as possible inside you, his hips jerking as he unleashes a torrent of cum deep within your spasming pussy. one last moan leaves him, his vision blurring as his release seems to go on forever. "fuckkkk—"

after you both ride out your orgasms, your hips come to a stop, his hands splaying out against your lower back as he pulls you flush against him. matt can feel his release slowly leaking out of you and dripping down his thighs. your breath against his neck tickles his skin.

"oh my god," he breathes out, making you chuckle and you lift up your head, seeing his flushed face. so cute. "made me see fuckin' stars, holy shit."

you laugh again, getting off to lay down beside him, head on matt's shoulder, his heart skips a beat at that. "you're funny," you say.

he wraps his hand around your waist again, not really ready to let go yet. "m'serious."

"okay, mr serious," you roll your eyes. "doesn't mean you aren't funny. and still a gentleman."

"getting into your pants before first date isn't really gentleman of me," he smiles shyly as you look up at him.

"i got into your pants," you correct him. "you gonna get into mine after that first date."

"there's gonna be one?"

"oh, definitely."

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck @jocelyncsblog @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔼𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥: 𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕘𝕒𝕣

𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: pet names, swearing, mutual pining, kissing, friends to lovers, fluffy, unprotected p in v, fingering, praise, teasing, soft!rafe, handjob, finger sucking, cum tasting, ownership (“you're mine”; said sweetly).

📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! The premise is that you and Rafe have been best friends for a while, and your relationship has become more romantic, blurring the lines between.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

Vanilla and cinnamon waft through the kitchen, mixing with the string lights' warm, cozy glow. Christmas music softly plays from the living room TV, drowned out by the sounds of his laughter and yours.

Rafe was entirely too distracting and far too charming. “You sure you know what you’re doin’, sweetheart?” He teases as he leans back into the counter with that frat boy smile. His blue eyes sparkle mischievously— tousled chestnut hair falling along his forehead, so perfectly undone it’s almost unfair.

“Stop,” you laugh as you shoot him a look. “‘Course I know what I’m doing… Unlike you, Mr. ‘How does the microwave work, again? Can’t get this fuckin’ thing to start.’”

His mouth falls open in disgust as he pushes off the counter, walking to your side, bumping you with his elbow playfully. He stays close, the brush of his skin against yours sending electricity through you.

“That was one time,” he whispers playfully.

You shake your head and bite your lip as you feel the warmth of his words so close. It's closer than he usually gets, making your heart flutter. “You’re hopeless-”

”Hopelessly handsome. M’fuckin’ sexy,” he rasps as his fingers find your sides, tickling you. You scurry away, but he grabs you, pulling you back in. “Admit it,” he grins. Your cheeks burn hot from your smile, crumbling under his beautiful gaze.

The two of you have been dancing around this for weeks: flirty texts, late-night drunk phone calls that stretched out until the sun came up, lingering touches just like this. It was intoxicating and maddening.

"You’re alright," you whisper, watching the corners of his lips curl into a smile.

“Yeah?” He breathes as he moves in closer. “Could say the same about you.”

Beep.

The timer goes off, shattering the tension for the moment. You pull away reluctantly, grabbing the oven mit as your racing heart starts to slow. “Umm…” You giggle nervously. “Can you roll that out for me?”

You gesture toward the rolling pin, and Rafe nods, hanging his head slightly to conceal his smile. "Yes, ma'am," he drawls with that rich southern charm.

He walks past you, a large hand brushing against the small of your back as he makes his way to the sugar cookie dough and pin. You inhale slightly at the contact between you, making him look back with a smile.

The two of you work beside each other for a little longer—silence fills the space for the first time all night. But his heavy gaze speaks volumes as you catch him stealing glances out of the corner of your eye.

“All done,” he beams, looking down at his work proudly, the cream-colored dough spread out on the counter perfectly. You step away from your place, setting down the frosting knife before looking up at him. “Good?”

“Look at you,” you coo.

His eyes fall to your lips; mouth tugging into a quick, sly smile.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly.

“Yeah, baby,” your stomach falls as that name leaves his lips so easily that he doesn’t even notice it himself. Rafe lifts his hand, brushing his thumb against your mouth. “Got a little somethin’ on your lip. You’ve been lickin’ the spoon or what?” He hums, his voice thick and sweet like honey. He draws his thumb between his lips, sucking down as your heart thuds in your chest.

You step closer, your body drawing to Rafe like a magnet. “You’re makin’ this really hard,” he mumbles as his baby blue eyes rest on yours. “You know that, right?”

You swallow hard—your mind, a mix of emotions. “You aren’t exactly making this easy either,” you whisper.

He smiles at your words, making your knees feel weak. “What if I don’t want easy,” he asks as he cups your soft cheek in his big hand, and you tilt into his touch. "You're beautiful, princess," he mumbles, his voice reverent. "Just perfect." You turn your cheek slightly, feeling slightly nervous, but he uses his finger to draw you back in, guiding your eyes to his. “You are."

“Thank you.”

“I don't know how long I've wanted to tell you that—it's been a while. So long… too long. I just didn't wanna fuck this up.”

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper, and he looks down at you, his smile falling slightly.

“You’re my best friend, too,” he assures.

“I don't want easy either-” Before you can say anymore, you close the gap, pressing your lips against his, soft and sweet, ramping up fast. A deep groan rumbles in Rafe’s throat— kiss deepening, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you into his muscular chest, hearts banging against each other, the taste of sugar lingering on his soft lips.

He pulls back for a moment, your airy laugh mingling with his as your excitement bubbles up in your chest.

“Fuck, princess,” he sighs blissfully, cupping your cheeks in his ringed hands, pressing his forehead against yours.

Beep.

The timer breaks you up, and he sighs, letting you go for the moment. You step toward the oven, your head dizzy with thoughts of Rafe and what had just happened as you replace a sheet of cookies with the next item, carefully selecting the brownies to give yourself a little more time in between. You reach up, pushing the numbers, selecting thirty minutes.

Rafe bites his lips to hinder his smile, catching the boost in time from the last, watching you divert from your cooking schedule to get a little more time with him, or so he hopes.

"Should we… Umm. Should we do something while we wait?” You ask as you nod toward the living room.

“Yeah, baby,” he responds quickly, racing against the clock. He clears his throat, catching himself acting too hurriedly. “… You wanna watch a movie or somethin’ while we wait?”

The two of you walk over to the couch, crashing down on the top before pulling up Netflix. Your body feels awkward after what happened, knowing you could get away with more, trying not to go too far, just in case. You replay the kiss in your mind again and again as you look through the movie titles, not concentrating as you should, but between those thoughts and Rafe’s glances, it’s hard to focus.

”That one?” He asks gently, not looking at the screen but at you, just wanting you to pick something.

You smile and nod, selecting the movie, but it instantly fades to the background.

You inch closer, your arm touching his, the heat of your skin brushing gently. Rafe turns toward you slightly. Your head finds his shoulder; Rafe’s muscular arm stretching wide before wrapping it around your body.

He pulls you nearer, needing you close—his soft breaths syncing with yours. You reach your hand out, resting it on his thigh. Time starts to blur as the touches become bolder: tracing skin, wandering fingers, soft hums at deeper pressure, desperate touches dipping under clothes.

Beep.

You draw a resounding breath, pushing it out slowly; the air between the two of you, charged with sexual tension.

Moving quicker than usual, you pull the brownies out of the oven, carefully selecting the next: the cinnamon bread, giving you even more time.

A smile slips your lips as you look back into the living room, catching Rafe peering over the couch— caught in a moment of excitement, seeing the time himself.

You walk into the living room, feeling the anticipation rise as you get closer. Rafe sits up on the couch, and right when you get close enough, he grabs for you, pulling you on top. He wastes no time pressing his lips against yours, unwilling to take that risk again. 

The kiss is divine—deeper than before, more urgent than ever. You rest your hands on his chest, moving lower and lower as your pulse quickens. Rafe moans against your lips, sending a surge of need straight through you.

Your fingers curl under the bottom of his shirt, tugging at it slightly, and he takes his cue, pulling it off between passionate kisses. His big fingers reach up, thumbing at the buttons of your blouse, popping them open as his lips move with yours.

Reaching your hands behind your back, you unclasp your bra before he can even ask, making him moan hungrily against your lips. He buries his face in his chest, nuzzling into your sensitive skin.

Rafe takes your nipple between his plump lips, swirling and sucking as your head falls back.

He pulls away; his eyes half-lidded, pupils blown with lust. “Don’t stop,” you plead, your voice hoarse and needy.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he hums as he wraps you a little tighter in his arms, kissing along your neck. Your head falls to the side, giving him better access to you skin.

“I want you…” You whisper. “All of you. Please,” you plead.

”Right here?” He asks. You feel Rafe smile against your neck before his hand drifts under your skirt, fingers brushing against the soaked lace of your panties.

“Right here,” you whisper as you rest your hand against his pants, cupping his big, hard bulge in your hand, whimpering against his lips at his size alone.

“And what do you want right here?” He asks with a teasing edge, making you smile dreamily, thinking back to how many times you yearned for this moment, imagining this is exactly how he would act. He wants to hear it…

”I want you to fuck me, Rafe… I need you,” you slip your hand into his pants as he pushes your panties to the side.

You capture his tongue between your lips, sucking as you wrap your fingers around his thick dick. Rafe groans deeply—the pads of his rough fingers start circling your aching clit. “I wanna fuck you, princess,” he smiles as his fingers trace your soaked slit too, teasing your entrance. “I wanna push my cock deep,” he mimics his word with a thrust of his hand, fucking two long fingers in your tight hole, making you gasp. “I want you to cream all over my cock, princess. I wanna make you feel so, so good,” he hums between kisses as he curls his fingers inside you, making your toes do the same.

“Shit,” you pant as he drags his fingers across you g-spot again and again. You tug on his long cock, pulling to the tip, making him bite down on your lip as you smudge his precum over his swollen head.

"Rafe, please,” you whimper, craving more.

”You don’t wanna cum on my fingers, pretty?” He rasps, his smirk heard in his low, deep tone.

“I wanna cum on your cock… Please. I haven't…”

Rafe slows his movements slightly, tilting his forehead against yours, breathing quickly. “You’ve never cum before?” He asks, his voice laced with lust and curiosity.

“Not like that-”

“I’d be the first?” He asks hastily, and you nod your head ‘yes.’ "Fuck…” He mumbles under his breath, his voice raw with desire and need.

Before you can think, he rolls you to your back, pushing your skirt around your waist and your panties down your thighs. Rafe rises on his knees, tugging his pants down, releasing his long, hard cock.

Precum drips off his throbbing tip, landing your soft skin; rolling warmly down your inner thigh making goosebumps flair across your bare skin.

He looks down at you desperately, but you already know what he wants to ask. “I wanna feel you, Rafe,” you whisper as your fingers swirl, circling your puffy clit, making your thighs draw in, as you keep yourself on edge.

“Yeah?” He asks as he tilts down, spreading your thighs again, stroking his fat cock as he lowers himself to your lips. “You want me to fill up this perfect pussy, princess?” Your heart races as his filthy words fall from his lips—just like you guessed they would.

“… Please, baby,” you whimper, lips brushing against his as he rubs his fat tip along your slit, bumping your fingers, making you move your hand away—a look in his eyes letting you know he was going to take care of you. “I want to feel you dripping out of me.”

He moans at your words, and you gasp as he circles his head around your clit, eyes rolling back in your head. “You’re gonna, baby… All night. Alright?”

Rafe grabs your wrist, slipping your slight fingers in his mouth, tasting your pussy on his tongue for the first time. He sucks down, eyes rolling back, groaning around your digits. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he pants. “I’m gonna get you off with my mouth later… You ever done that before?”

“No…” You pant.

“Holy shit… I’m gonna make you feel so good, okay? I'm gonna be all you need, I promise,” Rafe whispers as he presses his big cock against your entrance, your lips falling open from the stretch already. "Are we doing this, baby?”

“Yes-” You whisper, pulling his lips to yours as he thrusts inside. You moan against his mouth, never feeling so full.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as he bottoms you out; your warm, wet cunt wrapping around him tight.

He tips his hips upward, stretching you out even more, making you cry pitifully against his mouth. “Shit,” you whine as tears pool at the corners of your eyes.

”Baby, mpfhhh…” He grunts as he pulls back, looking at you. “Feels good?”

You nod quickly as tears of pleasure and happiness tumble down your cheek, lip tucked between your teeth. “So fucking good… More, baby. Please…”

”Yeah, sweetheart?” He asks as he drags out, letting you feel every curve and vein, brushing your tears off your face with his thumbs. “How do you want it?”

“Fast…” You whisper. “… Deep. Fuck me deep, Rafe.”

“Yeah, princess?” He asks as he starts to move, picking up the pace. “That’s how you like it?”

“Mhmm,” you respire, barely pressing the words past your lips before they get caught up in a moan. Rafe ramps up the pace, pounding you into the couch, burying you to the hilt.

Your arms wrap around him tight, nails clawing into his tanned skin, scratching down his back as his skin claps against yours.

He grunts with each thrust, the muscles in his jaw strained, trying his best to hold back his finish as you get closer to yours, wanting desperately to cum with you.

“Rafe…” You whine as you look at the slight space between your bodies, watching your sloppy cunt take every inch—Rafe’s dick pulls out each time, slicked with your wetness. “M’gonna cum.” He angles his hip, just like he had at the start, making your eyes cross slightly before fluttering shut.

”Look at me, baby. Come on,” he whispers lovingly, letting his thumb brush along your bottom lip just like it had in the kitchen earlier, that soft touch contrasting the slamming of his body against yours.

“I’m gonna-“

“Holy shit…” He moans as your pussy tightens around him, your body cumming harder than it ever has before, taking him with it. Rafe moans your name as his hips stutter, muscles flexing as he floods you with his sticky release.

He pulls back just enough to look down at you underneath him— his soft lips claiming yours tenderly as your bodies soften against eachother.

You breathe a deep sigh of relief as he kisses the corner of your lips, then your cheek, working to your neck before tucking himself close.

Rafe’s rich cologne mixes with the warm smell of sex and the sugary sweetness around you. The sharp beep of the timer startles you both, breaking you out of your spell.

He doesn’t let go—helping you back into your clothes before walking to the kitchen. Rafe leans back into the counter as you walk toward the oven, your heart racing still.

“Not quite yet,” you giggle, pushing the three words past your lips through nerves, giving the bread a little more time.

You turn toward Rafe, and he smiles down at you. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, your words you’re both dying to say on the tips of your tongues, makes the tension and excitement between you even sweeter.

“Co’mere,” he whispers as he reaches out his hand, pulling you toward him. Your body relaxes in his— the pounding of your heart in your head slows and softens, leaving behind the gentle melody of the music playing.

You lay your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat fall as you sway to the music together. The lights are low—just a twinkle above. Rafe rests his chin on your head, taking a deep, needed breath. “Are you okay, princess?” He asks sweetly.

“I am,” you smile. “That was amazing.”

Rafe’s muscles soften; his uncertainty melting away at your words. "You’re amazing," he hums, just over a whisper. You lift your eyes to Rafe’s, watching them glimmer as he looks down at you in adoration and disbelief like he still can’t believe that this happened himself. “I need to ask you somethin’…”

”Okay,” you whisper as your pounding heart muddles the sound of the music again.

"Everything I said before… I meant that. I don’t wanna keep pretending like we’re just friends. I’m done fakin’ it,” his voice lulls with emotion as he tries his best to control his feelings before speaking again. “Especially after that…”

“That was perfect,” you smile, giving him a little more assurance.

“Be mine. Officially. I want this— You and me. Alright? Just… Fuck— Just say ‘yes’.” Rafe’s vulnerability almost brings you to tears; his confidence shattered completely as he waits for you to speak, hoping for your heart.

You look up at him, pulling him a little closer, letting your soft lips brush against his, breathing a sigh of solace as you whisper the words you've always wanted to say.

"I’m yours.”

[bonbonly]

pairing: carlos sainz x f!reader ; tw: p in v, praise? maybe? dunno

prince!carlos sainz who's always lavishly surrounded by ladies no matter where he goes. old, young, it doesn't matter. the queens of various countries, old enough to be his grandmother, pinch his cheek and the little duchesses want nothing more than to hold his hand as he guides them back to their parents. as for the princesses? every night, there's another woman in his bed. another princess moaning, another princess screaming, another princess mewling about how handsome of a prince he is.

"that i know," his spanish accent floods their ears, as he'd give them a wink. having spent much of his life fed to him on a silver spoon, he figured his future bride would throw herself onto him, making his job much easier.

you weren't an ordinary princess, though. not because you weren't interested in him, or didn't believe in arranged marriages. you were far too prude for your own good, head always held high which gave you the advantage of looking down at others. you curtsied when asked, rarely ever let another man touch you unless it was your father, and reminded every young duchess what her duties were at a young age. prince!carlos sainz wanted to corrupt you so badly, his cock just ached at the sight of you dancing with a young prince from another country. you weren't betrothed to the gentleman, everyone in the ballroom knew that you belonged to prince!carlos, but he sometimes wondered if you knew. as in if you craved him as much as he craved you.

he sees you pick the ends of your ballgown, exiting the ballroom towards an empty hallway. he asks the butler of where you were headed, and is more than delighted to hear that you were heading to a bedroom upstairs to change into another dress for dinner. your parents wanted you to impress not only the Sainz family, but the other royal families as well. the promise was that when you became queen, everyone would know how grand and proper you were as a princess.

prince!carlos watches you walk into another room on accident and before you fumble out, he slips into your designated room and hides in the wardrobe. he glances at the display of the beautiful gown on the bed, and wonders how good it'll look on you... or off you in this case. he has to stop himself from being too excited, biting the skin on the edges of his fingernail as he watches you through the sliver of light in the wardrobe.

you didn't bother to call the servants to help you since the event downstairs was of more importance. you undid some of the lace strings on the outermost part of your dress, slipping it off easily before doing the same for the large skirt of the dress. and then came the tricky part, the part that made you hate ever being a princess which was a very rare occassion. the corset. it was a really pathetic scene in front of carlos, watching you struggle with the strings on your back. you had even gone as so far as to bend over on the bed, arms behind your back as you try in vain to free yourself from the material. the sight makes prince!carlos's breath hitch, and he can no longer control himself.

he exits the wardrobe as quietly as he can, and walks over to where you lay squirming in bed, panting at how hard it was to get this stupid corset off. he finally takes his opportunity and presses his chest against your back, pinning you to the bed as he whispers into your ear, "I can help you, princesa,"

you gasp at his words, hands now helping you push off the bed and you spin around to face him. his hands rest on your waist, searching your eyes with a very predatory look.

"Carlos," you begin but he raises an eyebrow, which causes you to mumble, "Your highness, forgive me for calling you the wrong title."

"i'm disappointed, cielo, you should know better than to call me by my first name. i thought that was part of your rules, no?" he teases, though you are unaware. you nod your head, admitting your lack of manners,

"m-my apologies, your highness. i just find this situation rather innapropriate, you see-"

"oh, i do see," he glances you up and down, stepping closer so that your knees hit the edge of the bed, "but we are to be married in a few weeks, i don't think there is a problem here."

"o-oh, but there is! if my father comes to see-"

he cuts you off once more, "you are a guest in my palace. you are going to be my wife in a few weeks. your father's words are useless here."

you gulp, trying to wrap your head around his words. usually, you had the knack to wittily respond, having garnered praise for being bold and formidable. but all words flew out the window, and all you could do was avert your eyes.

"you called me carlos on accident," prince!carlos mentions,

"and I apologized for it," you blurt out. he raises his eyebrows at how loud you just were, and he shakes his head,

"not enough for me, princesa, i'll find it hard to accept your apology," he crosses his arms, watching you nervously fidget with your fingers. the last thing you wanted was to incur your future husband's wrath for not following the guidelines like you always did! you were supposed to be better than him!

"then how can I have your forgiveness?" you ask. he grins at you,

"finally... finally, you ask the right questions, mi reina."

your moans echo through the hallways of the palace as he fervently gives open-mouthed kisses along your neck and tits, promising you that they would leave bruises so that everyone would see that you were his princess, his queen. and no other man in the world could have you. he makes you cum around his tongue, his fingers and his cock. you've never felt like this before, and you were never taught if you were supposed to be quiet or loud. prince!carlos enjoys seeing your body contorting like this, and he has you everywhere he can at the moment. who knew how long it would be before you returned for another ball? he'd have to wait for weeks until he'd finally be your husband, he needed to use every opportunity he had!

you're gushing around his cock for the 5th time that night, overstimulated beyond compare, each thrust of his hips has you whining out loud. he now has you against the window, tits pressed against the glass so that he could show the guards outside who he'd have every morning, afternoon and night once he marries you. his cock just can't seem to get enough, and he doesn't care that your juices are falling onto the rich velvet material of the daybed he has near the window. he wants to ruin you, make you ache for him even when you're alone in your bedroom back at your kingdom. your fingers should never be able to satisfy him now that you've had a taste of his cock. his hands find their way into your hair, and he yanks you back to his chest, a hand rubbing your sore puffy clit once more. you're crying furiously, begging him to have some mercy but at the same time you wanted to cum, you wanted to feel heaven again.

"anything you want, i give, princesa," he coos, kissing your neck and he's groaning as his thrusts become more erratic. you squeeze around him, back arching as you cum again and he does the same, resting his forehead against your shoulder, murmuring praises of how beautiful you'll look as the queen to his kingdom, how you'd look amazing being pregnant and carrying his royal children.

he's interrupted by the butler knocking on the door, asking for the presence of both of them, the guests had a few... noise complaints, to say the least.

[wayward-dreamer]

Do Something About It

Square/s filled: Free space @jacklesversebingo |

Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader

Word count: 2,056

Summary: Y/N goes to the Radio Company concert in Austin to support her boyfriend, but gets more out of the show than she thought she would.

Warnings: Swearing, sweaty Jensen (yes that comes with its own warning), smut: dirty talk, bathroom sex, public sex, v fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), fluff.

A/N: I've been working on this one literally since the concert happened, and it took finally being in the same room as @hintsofhoney (still can't believe that happened!) for me to finish it lol Thanks for beta'ing babe! Happy reading everyone!

The room was sweltering.

No one could figure out if it was hotter inside or outside, but it was probably the former considering the scorching display in front of the crowd. The band was electrifying, the backup singers were angelically soulful, Steve was absolutely crushing it but Y/N only had eyes for one man on that stage.

Beads of sweat dripped down the length of Jensen’s neck, the vein glistening as he threw his head back, combed his hands through his drenched locks and stood in front of the mic again. The black tank he wore exposed his muscular arms, a rare sight which was gladly received. The heat was getting to everyone, but his presence in the room was either making it more manageable or worse. She couldn’t decide. She suddenly wished she could’ve been at the first night’s show as well. Maybe it could’ve prepared her better for what she was currently witness to. Or maybe it would've been the precursor to this final nail in the coffin.

Between the way he looked and the way he sounded - that deep husk that only increased as he sang - the need to squeeze her thighs together grew. The perspiration that ran down her back was nothing compared to the wetness between her legs the longer she stood to the side of the room. Just about every erotic thought she had about him came to mind, her brain not knowing when to chill out and forgetting she was in public. All she knew was she needed a cold drink and even colder shower once this was over. Or maybe her vibrator and some time alone with those thoughts was what she really needed. Or maybe she needed him; those strong arms around her, hands bruising her skin in the best way possible, his cock slamming into her roughly…

She dropped her head, closing her eyes and willing those images away, but it was no use. Especially when she looked up again and caught a glimpse of his gaze on her through the crowd, his green eyes intensely focused on her as he crooned the last words of the song. With his attention solely on her for what felt like forever but in actuality was probably only a moment, she knew she’d have to give way to the fantasies.

His cute little dance and sultry roll of his hips as the beat played out only added to her wild imagination, and as Steve announced the last song she was more than grateful. The first thing to do was splash water on her face and calm the fuck down once this was over.

As the final number reached its crescendo, the crowd cheered and applauded as the band continued with their incredible energy. With one last riff, the boys said their goodbyes and walked off the stage, the room going dark as the people still clapped and whistled. As the house lights came on, Y/N followed behind a group of people as they made their way to the exit. Spotting the sign for the restrooms, she walked towards it, going down the narrow hallway. Just as she reached the women’s, she heard the door across the hall open behind her and a tug on her hand, dragging her back. She almost screamed, but the hands at her waist turned her around and pulled her close, a pair of familiar green eyes staring down at her.

“Fuck, you scared me!” she exclaimed, slapping his sweaty, tattooed arm.

He hummed, leaning into her neck and pressing a soft kiss to her pulse. “Sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean to.”

“How’d you know I was coming this way, anyway?” she asked, her hands resting on his soaked tank.

“I had a feeling,” he shrugged, his face close to hers.

His lips captured hers in a long, sultry kiss. The kind that always had her needing air as soon as he pulled away. Only this time it deepened as he walked her back towards the sink, his mouth refusing to leave hers as he bent a little, supporting her thighs and lifting her onto the ledge. Her legs instantly wrapped around him, her arms draped over his broad shoulders as her fingers played with his wet locks. An obscene moan escaped him as she lightly bit down on his bottom lip, causing him to briefly shift away and glare down at her.

“That’s not very nice, Y/N,” he husked.

She scoffed, flipping his shirt up slightly and reaching for his belt. “No, what’s not nice is you giving me that look on stage while you’re dressed like this.”

He grabbed her wrists in his large hands, holding them down to her sides. “I can give you whatever look I want, sweetheart. It’s you that should know you don’t talk back to me.”

“So take me home and do something about it, then,” she challenged.

“Who said anything about going home?”

Jensen lifted his eyebrows suggestively as he moved down and kissed her, passionately. She tugged roughly at his shirt, pulling him as close as he could get to her. His lips drifted down her cheek, jaw and neck, leaving small nips and kisses along her skin as her nails scraped through his hair, eliciting a deep groan from him. She had a brief thought that this bathroom might not be the best place to do whatever he was planning, but she forgot all about that the second his calloused hands pushed the hem of her dress up her thighs. He pulled away for a moment, his breath fanning against her mouth as he lifted his hand, pressing the pads of his fingers against her bottom lip. Knowing exactly what he wanted, she softly sucked at the digits and let them go with a wet pop, a low moan leaving her in anticipation of what was coming.

His hand drifted down between her spread legs, their eyes locked as she felt him pull her underwear aside and slide his fingers up and down her folds. Her head fell back slightly, leaving her neck open to attention from his plump lips.

“So fucking wet already,” he muttered, one side of his mouth pulling up as he stared down at her.

Before she could respond in any way, his fingers moved into her tight heat, causing a loud moan to fall from her lips. He pulled them out a little before sliding back in, building up the pace gradually to one that had her whimpering in his ear just the way he liked. She gripped his shoulders tight, her eyes squeezing shut as she felt him hitting that sweet spot inside her.

“So fucking tight, darlin’,” he groaned, nipping at her pulse. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock…”

“Jay, please,” she gasped, her eyes fluttering open to look up at him.

“What, babe?” he whispered against her lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“W-Want-” she shook her head, unable to think straight.

He clicked his tongue as he smirked down at her. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

His fingers slid in a little deeper, making her cry out in wanton pleasure as she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him down, pressing a rough kiss to his lips. Her hands stroked down the front of his top and reached for his belt once more, but he stopped her just as quickly as before.

He pulled away from the kiss, his gaze darkened as he removed his fingers from her and undid his belt himself.

“Fuck, Jensen, just fuck me already,” she whined, her breath heavy with impatience.

He smirked as he unzipped his white jeans, taking that small moment to relish the way her fingers kneaded into his shoulders, tugging at his black shirt as she waited for him to do something.

“You gotta ask nice, darlin’,” he teased.

“Please,” she begged, draping her arms around him and pulling at the ends of his hair. “Please fuck me.”

“Good girl,” he praised, giving her lips a quick peck.

He grabbed her waist and pulled her close, her legs locking around him. She held tight to him as he took hold of his hard cock, lining up to her entrance. Without wasting another second, he shifted his hips and pushed into her, her walls sheathing him completely as he sank deep. Her mouth fell open in a hushed moan, their eyes on each other as he grinned at her reaction. He set a steady pace, his hips rolling as he moved within her, a growl escaping him as her fingers combed through his sweat streaked locks.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he husked, pressing his forehead to hers. “Feel so fucking good, so tight and perfect just for me…”

“Shit,” she hissed, her head dropping down on his shoulder. “F-Fuck me harder, Jay. P-Please.”

The words had barely left her mouth before he was picking up the pace, his pelvis smacking against her spread thighs as he pounded into her. She cried out as she buried her face in his face, panting against his skin as she held on for dear life. It was everything she had envisioned as she watched him perform earlier, and then some. Beads of perspiration ran down his throat, causing her to softly nip and lick them away, tasting his tangy musk on her tongue. That clearly did something for him because the sound that came out of him - somewhere between a growl and a moan - only encouraged him to thrust deeper into her, his cock pressing against that spot inside her with precision.

It was hot inside that bathroom. She knew that they’d have to take several showers once they were home, but at that moment she couldn’t give a shit. Their hands roamed over each other’s sweaty skin, their bodies moved perfectly together and she was gaining on that sweet bliss, feeling the beginnings of that heat in her core.

“You’re close, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” His voice was low, the rumble vibrating against her. “I can feel it… you wanna cum, don’t ya?”

“Yes!” she moaned, the sound echoing off the walls, but she no longer cared if anyone heard her. “I-I wanna cum, baby, please. Make me cum.”

He hummed, biting his lip as he stared down at her. “How bad do you want it, Y/N?”

“So bad, Jensen, please,” she pleaded, her nails digging into his biceps.

He held her tighter, feeling his cock pulse as he slammed into her repeatedly, knowing he wasn’t too far from his own release. He pulled her hips forward with each thrust, her pleasure gaining volume as they both headed toward that euphoric peak. The rhythm faltered slightly as they grew closer to the edge, her desperate whimper enough for him to know she needed a little help. He brought his hand down between her legs, his thumb flicking over clit, circling the swollen nub as she clung to him, their eyes locked as her mouth hovered over his.

“Take it, darlin’,” he groaned, kissing along her jaw. “Take what’s yours… make yourself cum on my cock.”

With a few more thrusts, Y/N’s eyes rolled back as she cried out his name just as the coil snapped. Her body convulsed as her walls contracted around him, feeling her wetness cover his cock as it throbbed inside her. His neck strained as he let out a deep grunt, the vein popping against his glistening skin as he followed soon after her, ropes of his cum flowing into her. He shuddered as he pulled her close, her nose nuzzling against his neck and up to his jaw. His lips found hers in a slow, passionate kiss before they pulled away, sharing a small laugh.

“Can we leave now, please?” she asked, pushing him back lightly. “We need to wash this place off us.”

“Sure,” he chuckled, before his voice dropped down as he leaned into her. “And I’m gonna take my time with you once we get home.”

Feeling a shiver run down her back as she fixed herself and popped down from the counter, she took his hand in hers after he made sure he was decent. She pushed up on her tip-toes to kiss him, roughly, letting him know everything she needed with one passionate embrace.

“You better."

[melon-fodder]

-> KINKTOBER MASTERLIST <-

♡ WARNINGS: piss, reader has a pussy, p in v, creampies, holding it, fisting (yeah, like, up to the wrist), pet names: baby, princess, good girl

♡ WORD COUNT: 1.7k

♡ NOTE: I don’t have much to say other than I’m a lil freaky and I hope you are too. enjoy~

Togame lives a life of relaxation. He moves on his own time, slowly even when he’s enjoying something. Especially when he’s enjoying something. 

Now, for example–he has you speared open on his cock, your legs wide, dangling over his thighs as he rolls his hips into you at a glacial pace. You whine in frustration, head falling back to rest on his shoulder as you take in heaving breaths. 

“Jou…” you whimper, shuddering when he smooths a hand over your tummy, “Jou, please.” “Shh, be patient, pretty girl. You can take it.” His voice is low against your ear, making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

The pace, you can handle. Maddening as it is, you’ve gotten used to it over your time spent with him. It’s the added pressure inside of you that’s making tears burn at the back of your eyes, similar to the burn growing between your hips.

“Here, why don’t you distract yourself,” he suggests, and you can hear the sly tone of his voice, nearly letting some of those tears fall when he grabs your cup from the bedside table and presents it to you. “Come on, baby, just drink a little more.” You pout but part your lips for the straw when he holds it to your mouth. “I’ll be done soon. Just keep sippin’ ‘til then.”

The idea of taking in any more water is enough to make you go crazy, but… 

It’s the way he’s nuzzling into your neck, the way he murmurs the sweetest words to you, how his green eyes are probably shining with affection even if you can’t see them. 

So, you do as he asks and start swallowing little gulps of water. It feels like it goes directly to your bladder, stretching you to your limit. All the while, Togame keeps his slow pace, using your pussy to his liking for what feels like forever. You know you must be strangling his cock with the way your clenching, trying to keep yourself from letting go the way you want to. “

“Just keep getting tighter n’ tighter–fuck–” You hear that tell-tale hiss, and he suddenly asks you, “you ready for me, princess?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “yes, please, please,” because the quicker he cums, the quicker he’ll let you pee. 

The next couple thrusts are hard, hitting you where you least need them to. Fat tip rubbing over your g-spot, your jaw drops in a silent scream, stars dancing in your vision with every snap of his hips. “Don’t know how much longer I can hold it,” you tell him, voice warbling. He doesn’t seem to hear you, too lost in his own climax, dick twitching with every line of cum that paints your insides. “God… so fucking good,” he groans, movements slowing to a stop as he pants. His fingers dance over your stomach again, and your thighs tremble, flexed with the effort of not relieving yourself. Your whole body is shaking in fact, and Togame coos at you as he comes down, tells you, “just a little bit longer, okay? M’gonna make you feel so good.”

You bite your lip hard as he carefully slides you off of him, laying you down on the bed the two of you had prepared before you got started with this. You’ve always kept a plastic sheet over the mattress because, even on the nights that you don’t participate in this particular type of play, you still have a habit of getting messy. On top of the plastic are several absorbent pads that you could unfortunately only find in the pet aisle at the store, but… desperate times.

You can feel Togame leaking out of you, warm and thick, running down the curve of your ass. He sits between your legs, stares at your used pussy for a moment and licks his lips. 

“If it starts hurting, let me know and I’ll stop, ‘kay?”

You nod, heart picking up speed in your chest. He had told you he wanted to try something a little different tonight, which is exactly what he told you months ago when he got curious about piss play in the first place. 

You’re not scared; you trust Togame. You just have to fucking go. You’re already hurting, already full, ready to burst. The worst part is that you know how good it’ll feel to let go, that relief as warmth flows out of your body… You need it.

A breathy moan escapes you as Togame gently slides two fingers into your hole. You’re wet from your own slick and his spend, and your walls, though swollen with arousal, offer no resistance. He massages you for a little while, chuckling at the way you flutter around him before he adds a third finger. 

“Mm… f-uck!” You lurch upward when he taps your g-spot, a sob bubbling from your chest as that burn intensifies. “Can’t–can’t hold it if you d-do that.” “No?” he presses against it again, this time while slowly rubbing a thumb over your clit, and you sniffle as you feel piss start to dribble out of your little hole. “Ah, ah, not yet. Still gotta fit two more fingers,” he says in a dark tone. “Wanna get this pussy all nice and stretched before she makes a mess.” Your eyes roll at his filthy words, core throbbing with desire as you think about Togame fitting his whole hand inside of you. 

“That get you hot, baby?” he teases, leaning down to kiss your tummy as he works his pinky inside of you. 

The stretch of your hole is almost enough to distract you from the stretch of your bladder, but it’s so full, and the angle of his fingers are putting pressure against it from the inside, and god, you need to pee–you need to so badly, you might actually cum when you do. You hiss when Togame spreads his fingers inside of you, twists his wrist back and forth, makes a stirring motion. Every action is met with a cacophony of lewd squelches, your cunt sucking him in further and further, begging for the last addition.

Fingertips slip just past your entrance–you can’t tell how many, but he uses them to stretch you a little more, gently pulling the gummy tissue to make room for his thumb.

“Deep breath, baby,” he tells you, but breathing isn’t an option. You haven’t taken a full breath in what feels like hours. All your focus has been on not wetting yourself, on holding it all in.

You grunt and whimper as Togame works his thumb inside of you. It’s a slow process even when he gets most of it in. He rubs your thigh and peppers your hips with sweet kisses, all while praising you– “doing so good for me, fuck, you look so pretty like this.”

“Nngh, Jou–so… much…” “I know, I know, but you’re stretchin’ so nice. Just gotta push a little bit more.” With his free hand, Togame grabs the bottle of lube off the nightstand and pours a generous amount over the top of his hand. The slide may be easier, but you still struggle to take his palm. 

“So close, almost there,” he promises, circling your clit in a way that usually relaxes you, but you’re still tense–coiled as you try to hold yourself together. “You ready to let go?” he asks, and you can barely even nod your head, tears streaming from your eyes as your lower lip trembles where it’s held between your teeth. 

“Go on, baby. You can make a mess now.” An audible sob echoes in the room as you will your body to relax, and as soon as it does, Togame pushes in the rest of the way, his fist fitting snugly inside your pussy as you shower his forearm with piss. 

Your eyes roll, moan rising in pitch and volume as he wiggles his fingers. The weight of his hand–his whole fucking hand–and the bliss of relieving yourself has you unraveling. Waves of euphoria crash over you, scorching relief spilling from your cunt and pooling beneath you. It drenches the pads between your legs, seeping up to your back and coating your skin in a warm, damp sheen.

You’re gushing around him, squirting and creaming and peeing all at once, and the whole time, Togame controls you like a puppet, shallow thrusts against your cervix pushing more and more fluid from your body–fuck, it won’t stop. It won’t stop. You’re crying and drooling, quaking in his hold. Your legs kick weakly, uselessly, hips rolling on their own accord. It feels so fucking good. Hand stuffing your slutted-out pussy, fingers touching parts of you that neither of you have felt before. He’s in your guts, pushing against your doughy insides and milking everything from you. 

“Pussy’s so soft, Jesus fucking Christ…”

You yelp when he shifts to lay on his stomach, fist still stuffed inside you. Mouth latching onto your clit, you squeal, “too much, too much, too much!”

But, Togame just groans, sucking on the swollen bud while curling too many fingers into too many spots–fuck, fuck, he’s gonna make you cum again. He’s gonna make you– He slurps loudly, lapping at your stretched cunt and greedily drinking whatever fluid gushes from you. You can’t tell anymore, not with the way he’s pressing against your bladder from the outside, not with the way your insides ache for another orgasm. 

“Gimme everything you got, baby, that’s a good girl,” he groans, tonguing over your clit over and over, licking up every stray drop and dribble that leaks out of you.

He places a few wet kisses on the inside of your thighs, hand finally stilling inside of you, and you’re able to take in a huge, shaky breath. 

“Holy fuck,” is all you manage, and Togame laughs.

“Yeah. Holy fuck is right.” Another sloppy kiss right between your hips before he rises to his knees, “wanna know the best part?”

You lift an eyebrow, his handsome face swimming in and out of focus. Only now can you see what a complete mess you’ve made of him. His face and neck are dripping with you–even his bangs are wet, plastered against his forehead. Togame smirks, obviously not uncomfortable in the slightest.

“Best way to safely get my hand outta you is to make you cum again.”

[l0vergirlv0mit]

Take Me There

18+ mdni

Pairing: sub!Sevika x domPiltover!Reader

Warning: sub dom dynamics, fingering, head, Sevika calls you baby a lot, degrading, biting, angst but it works out.

A/n: y’all know how people with really authoritarian jobs like to be dominated in bed. Yeah. I was gonna just write smut but then I just haddd to make make myself sad!!! Also I haven’t written in a while so I’m rusty.

It’s the same dance. Every couple days there’s a knock at the French doors of your balcony. And there she is leaned up against the railing, the moonlight glistening in her gray eyes. She always meets you with a pleading look. Her eyes shifty as to makes sure no one sees her when she crashes her lips to yours.

Tonight was no different. Your family is quite wealthy and it’s apparent. Your gorgeous apartment is dimly lit by only a couple candles. You take a long drag of your cigarette with your feet up on your vanity, leaning back in your chair, you wait for her.

Leaving the doors to your balcony open for her you weren’t in the mood to wait tonight. This had been going on for a little over a year. Being each other’s secret, it’s hard to tell who has more to lose from this relationship. You being from Piltover and her being from Zaun, especially with her status, you can see the disappointment on your loved ones faces now. You blow a ring of smoke into the air.

Mind wondering to the vast expanse of her back. Images of her swirl in your mind, how you yearned to pull the dirtiest noises out of her. It’s been longer than she’d usually goe without seeing you. And boy would she hear about it. On nights like these you couldn’t give too shits what people thought about the both of you. You just wanted her.

And like clock work heavy feet land on your balcony. Your curtains blowing into the room. Sevika takes the invitation to let herself in. You look at her with dark eyes planting your feet on the floor and spreading your legs. Your in nothing but your open robe and lingerie. A black lacy set Sevika seemed to tremble at.

You take a another long drag of your cigarette taking her in. You blow out the smoke in her direction. “Where have you been?” You ask her plainly. Sevika becomes visibly more nervous. “I’ve been really busy I’m sorry.” She’s answered clearly and honestly, stepping towards you. You stare at her for a second looking deeply in her eyes. “That’s it? Don’t let me find out you’ve been busy with someone else.” You break the tension with a smile at the end.

She lets out a nervous laugh as you walk over to her. Your wrap arms around her neck pressing your hips to hers making her lean against the vanity. Your face finds the crook of her neck, nuzzling and kissing the skin. You move to bite her ear gently before whispering. “But seriously where the fuck have you been it’s been a week and a half, I want fucking answers.” Sevika shivers as she grips your hips tighter to hers.

Her eyebrows push together as the feeling of your mouth nipping and a licking at her neck. “I’ve been c-cleaning up a lot messes sweetheart-“ Sevika stops for second as she watches you drop to your knees infront of her. Your eagerness taking her by suprise. “Keep talking or I stop.” You said plainly lifting her shirt to admire her abs in a greedy manner. “It was just a bad week. But I was thinking about you the whole t-time.” Sevika stuttered feeling your warm tongue lick a stripe over her v line. You undo her pants letting them hang off her hips loosely while looking up at her.

With your lips parts and breathing heavy you break into a smile. You pull her pants down to her ankles. Now face to face with her clothed groin. “Awww how sweet what about me.” You tilt your head to the side and play with the hem of her briefs. Sevika can’t help but look at you without a thought in her head. Her hands grip the desk, her prosthetic hand nearly scratching the paint off the wood in the process. The way your robe draped off your shoulders and the moonlight highlighted every detail of your face made you look angelic.

She was only pulled out of her thoughts by you pulling your hands away from her. Reminding her that she needs to keep talking. “E-everything!” She exclaimed rather quickly and you put your hands back where they were with a degrading scoff, raising your brows. “I was thinking about everything, how your lips feel, the sound of your voice. I missed you so much.” She said honestly her eyes were pleading with you to keep touching her feeling, as if she might die if you stop.

You pulled down her briefs at a painfully slow rate. Kissing her lower and lower. You let your fingers brush through her happy trail, and bit her hip softly. You could hear her breathing so hard she was shaking. Her hand stroked your head as she looked down at you with her lip between her teeth. “I missed you so much.” She whispered softly again to herself. It made your heart skip a beat almost making you want to go easy on her.

You pull her briefs down fully your breath against her aching core. You place a kiss against her clit and her hips stutter at the much needed stimulation. “I missed you too.” You say back to her, it felt like telling a secret. This wasn’t about hooking up anymore. It hasn’t been for a while. Her hand comes down to stroke your cheeks. You suddenly didn’t feel like talking it anymore as you pressed your mouth her. Your tongue moving against her clit desperately.

She lets out a moan mixed with a sigh at the sheer relief of having you again. Her prosthetic hand pushed hair out of your face as you lapped at her. “Mm fuck.” She lets out quietly, Sevika already felt the knot in her stomach tightening. It was embarrassing how quickly she was coming undone, her legs shaking beneath her. She looked at the ceiling praying for just a little longer.

You smile into her knowingly, your hand stroking up and down her thigh before pulling away suddenly. She whimpered to herself with her head back. Cursing silently at whatever was listening. Her head drops to look at you with sad eyes. “Oh don’t look at me like that.” You smack her clit lightly standing reviling in how she jolted and squeaked. You stand, putting your hands on either side of hers caging her in and looking into her gray orbs. She lets out another depleted whimper coming face to face with you.

“I don’t wanna wear you out too soon.” The mischievous smirk your wearing grows. Going to place a soft kiss on her lips you speak softly ghosting over her lips. “Take everything off and join me on the bed.” You leave her with one final kiss to the cheek and walk to the bed. She nods obediently kicking her bottoms off first. She didn’t want to rush as she was taking her close off she likes when you want to watch.

She then takes off her cape and her tight shirt. You look at her smiling, biting your finger tip. She stands there in nothing waiting for you command. “Cmere.” You say, and she comes to the foot of your bed. To anyone else this might be an anxiety inducing sight. Her tall dark frame gripping your wood canopy. But the candle light illuminated a woman that was desperate to be controlled and put in her place.

She climbs into bed besides you. You tip her chin up to you capturing her lips with yours. You abandoned the robe you were wearing and your bra. Wanting to be chest to chest. Feeling the contact you so longed for. Sevika groans into your mouth, her large hands running up and down your back. Pulling you impossibly closer. You grip her hair pulling her away so you can access the sensitive spot on her neck.

“I was thinking about this.” She says softly, out of breath. “You wouldn’t have to think some much if you’d made time for me.” You said biting her shoulder roughly. She groans at the feeling of your teeth and words.

“I’m really sorry baby.” She sounds depleted in the best way, all she wants is to please you and she hasn’t been doing a very good job of that recently.

“Yeah I am too.” Your voice is dark as you leave a trail of bites down her abdomen until your between her legs. Your face nuzzling her inner thigh sweetly before leaving a hard bite there too. She whimpers in pain and ecstasy watching you in awe. You toy with her folds dragging your middle and ring finger through her soaked pussy. You bring your fingers to her mouth. “Open.” You say sternly. She complied without a second thought, opening up and swirling her tongue around your fingers.

“Can you taste how much of slut you are?” You say grabbing her cheeks to get her full attention. Your dark demeanor sends shocks of pleasure to her core. She nods quickly humming around your fingers. You push them back slowly to make her gag on them and bring your fingers out circling her full lips. You watch sadistically a mean smile spread at odd your face. Slinking back between her legs you use the two fingers she so kindly wetted for you to fill her up. Not giving her anytime to adjust.

“Fuck-“ She let out with a groan. “Hush.” You were quick to shut her up before curling your fingers inside her painfully slow. Her hips moved to try and get more stimulation but you held her down. She easily could’ve keep going but she knew you were the law here. “I don’t want you thinking tonight. Not a fucking thing. You hear me?” Your serious face nearly makes her go cold but she nods eagerly anyway.

“Nothing.” She says back to you trying to appease you making sure you know she’s listening to you. “Put your hands over your head.” You command her and she nearly lets an annoyed groan slip out. She wanted to touch you so bad it wasn’t fair. You pick up the pace and watch greedily how her abs tense. Her chest heaving and her arms straining. Everything about her form makes you want to eat her alive.

The want to stay like this forever, having her in your bed is the only piece of heaven you have. Growing up well off is great but lacks actual substance. And you were greatly addicted to substance Sevika provided you.

“I-I’m gonna cum baby please can I please.” She pulled you out of the haze you slipped into. Her words making you feel softer. Lightly scratching down her abs she squirmed under you. You pretended to think about just to tease her. “I don’t know can you?” You we’re absolutely toying with her your thumb rubbing harsh circles onto her clit. Her lip tucked between her teeth with nostrils flared she whimper’s uncontrollably watching your fingers pump in and out of her.

“Beg” is all you give her. “P-please baby nhg- please let me cum I’m so- fuck sorry honey please.” She really puts on a show for you with her fucked out face pleading for release. “Let go baby.” And at your permission her eyes roll into the back of her head and she jolts into pleasure. You work her through it feeling the way she squeezes and flutters around your fingers.

A mental image your so grateful to have. You pull your fingers out of her having a taste of her yourself. She watches from the corner of her eye with her head tiredly hanging to the side. You give her a second to collect herself laying your head on her muscular thigh and tracing circling into her lower stomach. “Can I touch you now?” Her sweet sleepy voice makes you laugh softly. “Mhm.”

You move to abandon your panties and straddle her. Her palms tracing the outline of your form. Her eyes filled with the upmost adoration as they move from feature to feature. “I’d never choose to be away from you.” She whispers to you sullenly your heart sinks in your chest, you didn’t want to think either.

Wanting her so badly has turned you inside out and wrung you. You wanted her to spend the night. Spend the next week. Go to a market holding hands. Anything. As long as it was her you wanted it. Your expression softened.

“I know baby.” You replied just as sadly, laying your head in the crook of her neck.

“Can I take care of you now?” She asked you so sweetly you couldn’t say no to her. It’s only when you sit up you feel how drenched you are leaving a slick on her happy trail. It puts a smirk on her face that you roll your eyes at. “I want to taste you. Please.” She throws you a fake pout and the need to ride her perfect nose drowns out any woes you were feeling. Needless to say you were quick to saddle up.

Hovering over her face her arms come up to hold you place. She squeezes at the meat of your thighs and bottom. She nudges your clit with her nose knowing how much you love that. You reach to play with her hair and grip on it. She runs her tongue through your folds. Moaning at the taste of you.

She pulls you all the way down completely covering her face. It’s amazing she can still breath. Her tongue is shooting in and out of you as she grips your thighs to grind you onto her nose. You let out a squeak at her unexpected dominance and grip the wood head board. Your mouth making an o shape as she makes you face fuck her. The beds creaking and your moans created the most perfect symphony for her.

“God just like that Sevika!” You screamed to her maybe a bit too loud but you couldn’t care right now. She mumbles back to you. “Mm-m.” You can feel her smiling underneath you just happy to have you all over her face. “Your mouth feels so f-fucking good. Really m-making it up to me huh?” You tease her even though you can barley form a sentence. She moves her tongue away from you replacing it with her fingers. “Mhm can’t have my baby angry at me.” She says it like an a fact of law before sucking on your clit.

My baby. My baby. All that swirls through your head as you start to feel your muscles tighten. Rutting your hips wildly against her tongue, chasing your high. When it finally hits you it’s like a white lightning strike. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your body twitching. Your body becomes limp and Sevikas strong arms hold you up and lay you next to her. You both try to catch your breath and Sevika let’s out a soft laugh. You turn to her and smile softly back at her. “What?” You question between breathes, pushing your eyebrows together.

“Are you still upset at me?” She says resting her head on her palm looking at your sweat covered face. She smiles softly at you her eyes showing just how much she cares for you. “No.” You say rolling your eyes and cuddling up next to her. You trace circles into her chest thinking tentatively.

“You think you could stay here for a bit though?” You look up at her through your lashes hoping it’s more convincing. Sevika looks at you uncertain. She couldn’t leave in the morning without being harassed or worse by enforcers. “Y-you don’t have t-“ You try to backtrack seeing her reaction but she cuts you off. “No I want to.” She replies to you quickly smiling to comfort you. The both of you stare at each other for a bit, your finger tracing her features.

The quiet in your room consumes the both of you making it feel like your the only two people on earth. At least right now you are. The knowledge that you’d wake up alone keeps biting at you. You won’t get to see how the morning sun blankets her body in warmth. Or feel her strong hands hold your waist while you cook her breakfast. You take her face into your hands and kiss her deeply. It felt like a goodbye kiss because of what you knew you had to say.

“I love you.” Whispered against her lips like a prayer. You pull back from her already numbing yourself, waiting for whatever she could say back to you. One of the very few times in your life you actually gave up control to someone. Giving her the power to complete crush you. If that’s what it took to find some resolution to this soul eating entanglement, so be it.

You look utterly guilty as Sevika tries to comprehend what you told her. “I know.” Your heart sinks hearing her speak your face contorting already starting to cry. “No no I love you too baby what’s wrong.” She wiping tears as soon as they fall. The fear became replaced by relief and grief all at the same time. You calm down enough to reply to her.

“This scares me Sevika.” Your red eyes search hers. All you can see is her own gray eyes reflecting the same fear back to you. “Me too.” Thats all she could offer, this relationship truly honestly scares her. “We’ll make it work I promise.” She adds being truthful. Even if it was the last thing she was going to do. She couldn’t let this one slip through her rough large hands. She holds you till you calm down enough to fall asleep and slips out of the bed making sure to cover you. She’d be back tomorrow.

Thank you for reading!!!

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Born to Survive (1/2)

Astarion x f!Tav (tiefling), Canon Compliant,

Astarion's Romance, Act 1

1.8k of about 6k

part 2

Astarion's perfect little plan to seduce and manipulate Tav goes awry the first night he spends with her. But he should have known from the moment she agreed to meet him in the woods. // Part 1 of 2 cause this was longer than I planned for (heh). Astarion's dialogue is as close to the game as I could manage, with some embellishment. CW: Astarion's v healthy approach to sex/intimacy. MDNI This part is not explicit but part 2 is only that. Song Rec: Natural (Cover) by Kristen Collins & Kurt Hugo Schneider//

Astarion from the growing darkness watched as Tav knelt by the campfire, fighting with the instincts honed over centuries. 

Tonight, she was going to feel their razor’s edge—except she was going to live to see the morning. 

Maybe that was why the vampire was feeling a little bit of…hesitation, for once. He’d done this song of seduction and dance of deception more times than he could remember. It would be easy as any night on his back. She would be no different. 

So he thought. 

Tav was paying all of her attention to the fragrant herbs she’d gathered into neat bundles, binding them together, singing their edges to combine them, and deftly blowing them out again. 

It made Astarion scoff to think the tiefling had time to be concerned over such trivial matters. Tadpoles in their heads. Death stalking them at every corner. And here was the ranger, worried about potion ingredients camp supplies. 

And here he was, charming a mere ranger. 

Astarion watched as she brushed her long hair over her shoulder and out of her way to continue focusing on her task. His eyes traced the marks still visible on her neck. The twin punctures were worn so openly, brazenly advertising that she’d so willingly let a vampire feed from her. 

That was his way in. Because he remembered how…intimate that encounter was. A foreign concept from a life of feeding on rotten rats—but he was more than familiar with the way her body trembled under his teeth.

Astarion rolled his shoulders back to relax, composed his face into a charming smile, and sauntered over to the fireplace. 

“Darling, there you are.” 

“Astarion!” Tav jumped, nearly dropping the herbs into the flames. “Gods, you’re quieter than any prey I’ve tracked.”

He gave a flippant wave to ward off her comment. If only she knew how groomed he was to stalk the most clever and dangerous of prey. 

“I was just thinking about you. Remembering our time together, the things we shared…”

Tav straightened up from her crouch at the fire. She arched an eyebrow, and rested her hand on her cocked hip. “Astarion, if you need blood—” 

“I don’t just mean that lovely neck of yours,” he interrupted smoothly. He made a point of his eyes traveling over her figure, wondering what was hidden under supple leather armor—worn, well-used armor.”I’m growing to like the whole package.” 

“Really?” Tav asked, her tone dripping with a skepticism he didn’t appreciate. “I didn’t think a little dirt would do it for ya.” 

Her bright eyes raked over his impeccably kept appearance, which he had still managed after an abduction and days out in the wilds, thank you very much. 

But then Astarion noticed the slight swish of her tail. Though tieflings weren’t as common among his targets, he’d charmed and manipulated a few in his endless nights on the streets. 

Tav was either irritated…or interested. 

And Astarion knew just how to tilt that reaction into his favor. 

“Honestly,” he protested, stepping a bit closer to her. “And, you clearly like me too.” 

Her tail slashed back and forth, disturbing the dust near the fire. Even as she wore that face of suspicion and doubt. Cute little thing. Like a kitten who thought her mewling was a roar.

 “Come now, don’t be coy.” Astarion stepped artfully into her personal space, crowding her against the log that Karlach had placed as a bench before the fire. “Your body has already given you away…I could feel it.” 

Tav swallowed, and his eyes were drawn right to the graceful slope of her neck. 

As if she needed any more reminding of the night he first fed from her. How she had laid her head back into his hold. How he nearly lost control when he tasted the sweet nectar flowing through her veins—he almost forgot how she squirmed under him, but didn’t push him away. Then, that traitorous tail of hers curled up at the point. 

She may as well have broadcast her arousal to the entire camp. 

Astarion raised a hand, ghosting his touch along the defiant line of her jaw, down to her throat and the fading marks his fangs had left behind. She didn’t flinch at his almost-caress. In fact, she was already tilting her chin to it. 

“The little shivers, when I was getting lost, in your neck…”

Some feeling bubbled up unbidden from within the vampire. That moment, his first time taking blood from a thinking creature, well he couldn’t help it if that was special to him too. Astarion could still feel her fingers coiling at the small hairs at the back of his own neck.

It was…intimate. Like hadn’t known before. 

No. 

He quickly buried the foreign desires and slipped back into the persona that never failed to stoke them in others. Want was a weapon in his arsenal, one that he could wield with lethal dexterity. 

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” 

Tav’s teeth bit into her bottom lip, and she must know that she’d been caught. The agitated flicking of her tail slowed. Astarion knew that he had her when the pointed tip began to curl. 

“So I did.” 

A triumphant grin tugged at the corners of the elf’s mouth. He, deliberately, tilted his head to her, so the setting sunlight might catch his gleaming fangs when he grinned. 

He was always so careful to conceal his nature from unsuspecting prey until he could pull them into the shadows. But Tav’s obvious attraction to his vampiric features was something he fully intended to exploit. 

Such a wicked weakness for good girl. 

“So did I, more than words could say.” He let his rich voice drip with honey as he finally let his cool fingers touch her heated skin, skimming deftly over the fading twin marks. 

Tav shivered under his hand, but didn’t pull away. 

He had her now. 

Astarion loomed closer, his cool breath ghosting over her pointed ear. “I was so…very pleased with what you gave me, darling. You deserve a reward.” 

He expected her to melt into the caress of hand and his words, but Tav stiffened under his attentions and pulled back. Confusion flickered over the elf’s face before he could conceal it behind an innocently wounded expression. What did he say wrong?

“I don’t need a reward, Astarion.” Tav’s tone was firm, but irritatingly gentle. Which just made him want to snap his fangs in frustration. She ducked back to pick up her abandoned herbs, bundling them up neatly, and literally slipping right out of his fingers. “Some people help just for the sake of helping, you know?”

Astarion bit back the scathing retort that rose to his lips. 

It wouldn’t do him any good in his current objective, and might just shatter the fragile mood he had so carefully constructed. 

Instead, he forced a disarming chuckle and slid onto the log seat next to her. “Of course dear, I simply meant we could take an evening to ourselves.” Her tail twitched next to him. “Get away from camp, get some…privacy.” 

Astarion’s silver tongue was not about to fail him now. Tav’s back was to him, taking her time packing her herbs away, a tension lingering in her shoulders that he wanted to sooth away with his hands—or his mouth. 

She was proving to be more of a challenge. No matter, he enjoyed a good game of cat and mouse. Though he had no intention of being the mouse. 

Tav turned back to face him, those jewel-like eyes scrutinizing his face, like she was trying to pierce the winsome smile he plied as a well-worn mask.

She leaned closer, bringing her earthy smell of herbs and leather and something wild that made something in him ache for more. To have her closer—to feed, obviously, nothing more. 

For a fleeting moment, Astarion was certain he had Tav ensnared at last. 

“We don’t need to leave camp for you to feed on me, you know?”

Gods dammit. 

There it was again, that insufferable, good-guy tone that made him want to tear his perfect curls—he’d already seen Tav run headlong into danger over some undeserving wretch just under the pretense of doing the right thing. It might just make Astarion ill. 

“And you don’t owe me for it, either.” The sincerity in her voice was making his cold skin crawl. 

Astarion had lived long enough to know that altruism was a myth. Benevolence was meant to beguile. And anyone offering a hand would want their palms greased. 

Tav was either a fool, or the trickiest devil he’d tangled with yet. 

The misunderstood outcast card was not his favorite hand to play, but it worked so well on those with a savior complex. 

“Oh, I understand.” Astarion said softly, arranging his face into a petulant pout. 

Tav’s brows furrowed, and she finally looked back up at him. “You do?”

“I do. Stealing off into the woods with a vampire…” He let his voice trail off, oh so hopelessly. “It is a lot to ask you to put your faith in me.” 

“Astarion, that’s not—” 

He cut her off with a wounded sigh. “You do not trust me.” 

Astarion stood and turned away, shoulders slumped in feigned dejection, waiting for her to take the bait.  She would get to her feet and follow. He could count it down in his head. 

Three, two, one…

“I do trust you.” Tav’s soft voice was almost pleading. 

A slow, satisfied smile curved Astarion’s lips, surprised she’d yet to faint from that bleeding heart. 

“Then, trust me.” Astarion purred, closing the distance between them in one sinuous stride. He loomed over her, feeling the rush of her pulse fluttering at the base of her neck. 

Tav reached for his hand, but the vampire deftly bypassed it. His long fingers encircled her wrist, the heat of her skin sinking into his palm and warming him already. 

Her eyes were wide, nearly luminous in the gathering dusk, but he let his gaze linger on her mouth, his own lips parting ever so slightly. 

“Trust me, when I promise you a night you will never forget.” He lowered his voice and let shadows fall over his crimson eyes. 

Tav shivered, and Astarion knew it had nothing to do with the temperate air. He could smell her arousal, heady and sweet, as obvious as the almost perfect curl her tiefling tail was making. 

“Okay,” she breathed, her word a little more than a sigh. “I trust you.”

A victorious grin spread over his lips and through his veins. He finally had her right where he wanted her. Under his hand as he cupped her cheek, drawing her close, his breath ghosting over her lips before finding her pointed ear.

“See you there, lover.” 

part 2

[ahummingbirdwitch]

can i get a very horny and desperate cypher x fem!reader at a party setting in val HQ with him jealous and stuff, veryyyy nsfw please! 🙏🙏🙏🙏 thank you ❣️

Hell yes. I LOVE me some jealous Cypher 😈

SURPRISE SURPRISE, this one is super long because I got, um... a little carried away...

Jealous Jealous Jealous (Cypher x F!Reader)

Summary: There's a party at Valorant HQ and Cypher isn't as attentive a boyfriend as he should be. If he wants to make it up to you, he's gonna have to work for it...

Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,775

Warnings: p in v sex, vaginal fingering, unsafe sex, creampie

Notes: THIS ENDED UP BEING SO MUCH LONGER THAN IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AND I AM POSTING THIS AT 3:36AM

Cypher didn’t do parties, and neither did Valorant. Not really, anyway.

There were little soirees here and there, small team events and even the occasional birthday celebration in the common room, but never full-out parties. Typically, if agents wanted a party, they’d have one outside of HQ. It wasn’t exactly a prime location for having fun.

Tonight, though, there was a party, and it had explicitly been called such. You’d approached him about it the other day, explaining that it had something to do with the newest agent, Clove; apparently the young Scot had decided to throw one as a way of getting to know the other agents, and Brim, oddly enough, had agreed to let them use one of the spare rooms for the event. Perhaps he’d become desperate to boost morale lately.

You’d spoken eagerly of attending the party, but Cypher had been less enthusiastic. He’d already gathered enough information about Clove—having done his research long before they’d even arrived at HQ—and he was far too busy working on his latest device. Besides, he figured practically no one would show up. With so many agents occupied and scattered across the globe, Clove would be lucky to have even a quarter of the protocol in attendance.

“You have fun, my dear,” he’d told you earlier that evening. “Do tell me how it goes.”

“Guess I will,” you’d responded, letting out a soft sigh just before leaving the room. He’d returned to his gadgets shortly after, content to spend the rest of the night working away. He’d keep an eye on you, of course. He always did. He had never really enjoyed parties much anyway; he would only hold you back.

Cypher had expected to have an uneventful evening, watching his cameras in between tinkering, but instead, he found himself lurking in the corner of the event room, eyeing you from a distance with a fiery sharpness in his chest.

The party had turned out to be busy after all—shockingly so, with nearly half the protocol present—and he’d watched you flit around all night from his room, happy as a clam as you mingled with the other agents. His interest had grown over the last several hours, seeing you laugh and dance and twirl around in the pretty little dress you’d decided to wear, and finally, it had become too much for him to handle. He’d been an absolute idiot. He needed to come down there now and spend time with you.

And so he had come to see you, entering silently and keeping to the darker corners of the room to not draw too much attention to himself, but when he’d caught sight of you, his stomach had twisted. You were off to one side of the room, talking to Chamber, and that smug bastard was looking at you like the latest designer watch.

Cypher was frozen in place for a good minute, steaming like a tea kettle at boiling point. Of course you weren’t flirting with him—you wouldn’t. But Chamber was a dog masquerading as a gentleman, and he would flirt with you.

He didn’t get to look at you like that. No one got to look at you like that.

It took him a moment to rein himself in—ensuring he wouldn’t wring the Frenchman’s neck as soon as he got over there—but Cypher was quick to start moving, marching across the room towards the two of you. He was in such a rush, he barely noticed Killjoy shooting him a friendly greeting as he passed.

You spotted him as he approached, turning to look at him with round, surprised eyes. “Am—Cypher!” you said, cutting off Chamber, who had been talking. “You’re—here. I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

Cypher came to a halt right in front of you, not hesitating to take your hands in his and pull you closer to him. “Of course,” he said, pointedly ignoring Chamber’s presence. “I wouldn’t miss it, my love.”

You blinked at him, looking almost pleasantly stunned, color creeping into your cheeks. He almost never called you any pet names around others—let alone that one—but he was feeling rather different tonight. Bolder. Territorial.

Chamber cleared his throat. “Ah, Cypher,” he drawled. “So nice of you to join us, monsieur. We were just having a little chat.”

Cypher tightened his grasp on your hands ever so slightly, working to keep his anger in check. “Is that so?” he asked coldly. “What kind of chat?”

Chamber chuckled. “Why, we were just talking about you, actually,” he said. “I was wondering why you had decided not to come. I had believed the two of you were an item, so I was quite surprised to find my friend alone this evening.”

Cypher gritted his teeth. She is my girlfriend, and you are not her friend. She’s your coworker and nothing more! “We are together,” he growled. “And I had— tasks to attend to. But I am here now. That is all that matters.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Chamber responded with a smirk. “Take good care of your petite amie, my friend. It’s quite rude to leave a lady unattended.”

Cypher bristled, wanting nothing more than to punch the other agent right in his stupid glasses, but Chamber was already turning and heading away. Your voice broke him out of his trance. “Amir. You’re hurting me.”

Cypher came to his senses, letting go of your hands. “Shit. I’m—I’m sorry, dear,” he said hurriedly.

“What was that all about?” you asked, concerned. “You seem—agitated.”

Cypher hesitated, suddenly feeling very awkward. He’d only just gotten to the party, and he’d already worked himself up. He needed to focus. He was here to be with you, and have fun. “It’s—nothing,” he replied. “I just—wanted to see you, dear. Right away.”

You weren’t convinced. “Were you… jealous, just now?” you pressed, furrowing your brows. “Of Chamber?”

Cypher did not answer right away, knowing that if he answered “yes,” he would sound like even more of an imbecile than he already felt. “Well, he—he was clearly hitting on you,” he protested.

“Yeah, I got that,” you said flatly. “I’ve been here long enough, Cypher. I know he’s a jackass. I was just about to get rid of him before you showed up.”

Cypher’s heart sank. Perhaps you hadn’t meant it, but you’d called him Cypher instead of his real name. He looked away slightly, shame clawing at him, but his fury from before had not fully dissipated. He knew he’d acted rashly by barging in, but how could he not have? “If you were uncomfortable, then I’m glad I intervened,” he asserted. “I will not stand for that. I will not let him prey on you.”

“Like I’m a piece of meat?” you said, unimpressed. “I can handle a conversation on my own, thank you. Like I can handle most things. You were certainly fine letting me go to the party by myself tonight.”

Burning guilt rose inside him. He should have been able to tell how disappointed you were when he’d told you he wasn’t going. Of course you’d wanted him to go with you. “I’m—I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, reaching for your hands again. “Please, can we—can we go talk? Somewhere private?”

You pursed your lip, still looking thoroughly annoyed. “I don’t know,” you said, sarcasm in your voice. “I don’t really feel like talking anymore. I think I’d rather dance.”

You started to move towards the dance floor, and he stopped you, extending his hand. “No, wait—dance with me, then,” he insisted. He’d never seen you so irritated; frankly, it was worrying him. He was more than ready to make up for all of this—even if he hadn’t danced in years.

You frowned. “Lots of people here without dance partners,” you said dryly, looking past him. “I’m sure I can find one.”

Cypher stared at you, abashed. You weren’t being serious, were you? You wouldn’t actually dance with someone else—not like that. He looked you up and down, taking in the whole sight of you: your flushed, indignant expression, your pouting mouth, your dress that hugged your body in all the right places—and all at once, his dismay turned to something else—something harder, angrier . Clearly, you were hurt, but surely this—giving him the cold shoulder, threatening to let someone else dance with you, have you to themself—was unnecessary. Cruel, even. He’d already spent most of the night without you, and now that he was here, you were threatening to spend it with someone else?

He was at fault, here, yes, but didn’t he get at least a second to talk to you?

Before he could change his mind, he grabbed you by the wrist, keeping you from getting away. “Come with me,” he ordered. “ Now. ”

You glared at him, fire in your eyes. “What are you doing?” you demanded.

He didn’t answer you, already pulling you towards the exit by the wrist. He dragged you past several agents—many of whom cast baffled glances your way—leading you out of the room and into the hall as you made indignant sounds of protest. At the end of the hall, he pushed you into a secluded corner, pinning you up against the wall.

Cypher held you back by your wrists, making you squeak when he shoved his leg between your thighs. “Give me a minute,” he hissed, “to make it up to you.”

Your eyes were wide, your lips parted in shock and your face vibrant red—from anger, or something else, or both, he couldn’t be sure yet. “What are you doing? ” you asked him again, sounding more confused than upset.

Cypher released your wrists for a moment, just long enough to remove his mask and pull up his undercovering above his mouth. Once he’d set his mask aside, he was upon you again, pressing wet kisses up the length of your neck, his hands keeping you in place. He felt like he was on fire, his body too hot, all his emotions rising to the surface like flames. “I was a fool,” he breathed, kissing your ear before taking it gently between his teeth. “Forgive me, sokar. Please.”

He sucked on your ear, and the hushed moan he drew out of you sent a delighted shiver through him. You bit your lip, as if trying to stifle yourself, but you weren’t fighting him—not even a little. “You’re just—just jealous,” you mumbled.

He felt a sharp pang of shame again. “It’s true I got jealous,” he confessed softly, kissing the underside of your jaw. “I—I wanted to burn him just for looking at you. But—can you blame me, my love?” He let go of one of your wrists, using his free hand to feel the curve of your hip. “You’re so beautiful. How could I not want you all to myself?”

You shuddered slightly, still not resisting him. “Y-You—” you started to say, only to break off into a half-moan when he licked a stripe up your neck. “You didn’t—even notice that I was upset. Earlier…”

Cypher kissed your cheek, his hand moving down to grip your thigh. “I know,” he murmured, every inch of him aching with need—need for you, a need to make you feel good again. “I know, sweetheart. I should have listened. I should have come with you.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Please forgive me, zouina. I’ll do anything for you.”

His hand wandered under the hem of your dress, making its way between your legs, and you let him. He found your panties easily, using two fingers to trace the outside of the fabric, and he nearly cursed aloud at how wet he found it. You let out the softest of whimpers when he made contact, and his cock hardened in his pants. You might not have forgiven him yet, not with words, but you wanted him. And he meant it when he’d said he’d do anything for you.

He caressed you through your panties, making sure to swipe over the sensitive bud at the top. “Let me touch you, kitten,” he coaxed into your ear. “You have my attention now—all of it. Let me take care of you.”

You said nothing for a heartbeat, soundless except for the short little breaths coming out through your mouth, but then, without speaking, you gave him your answer. You closed your eyes and moved your body ever so slightly forward, pressing yourself harder against his fingers. You’d relaxed completely against the wall, still and pliant with your arms up of your own accord.

That was all the permission he needed. Cypher swiftly removed his glove, then slipped one finger under your panties, easily finding your soaked entrance and plunging in. You whined at the penetration, and he took advantage of your open mouth, capturing your lips with his. You moaned into the kiss, bucking your hips as you chased the movement of his finger, and he sucked on your tongue, painfully aware of how much harder he was getting by the second.

“So lovely,” he whispered in between kisses, pumping his finger in and out of you. You were so wet, he could hear you. “My gorgeous girl. I’m yours tonight—all yours.”

You whimpered in response, clawing at the back of his head, losing yourself to the pleasure. He teased your clit with his thumb, and you jerked against him, nipping fiercely at his lower lip. You’d given in to him by now, but that didn’t mean all of your fire from before was gone completely. “Fuck me,” you gasped, breathing harshly. “Right now.”

Your wish was his command. Cypher wrenched his finger from you, then ripped your panties clean off, too desperate for once to care about manners; judging by your lack of reaction to the act, you felt the same. He wasted no time yanking his pants down and freeing his cock, already at full hardness, and used both hands to lift your dress up above your thighs. When he brought his cock to your entrance, testing your opening with his swollen head, he found you more than ready for him, slick and pulsing. He claimed your mouth again as he pushed inside of you, gripping your hips and driving himself in as deep as he could go.

The kiss was rough and messy, and so was the way he fucked you. Cypher pounded into you greedily, relentlessly, needing you, needing your sweet satin walls sucking the life out of him and making him forget how much of an idiot he’d been tonight. He tasted your tongue and swallowed your moans, bruising your thighs as he gave you what you’d demanded from him. He would gladly give his all, give you everything if it meant making you happy again.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but at some point you broke free of the kiss to murmur, as if realizing something, “The—the cameras—”

“I’ll erase the footage,” he panted, stealing your lips back. None of that mattered. Nothing mattered except the two of you right now. His cock was inside you, and it was about to burst.

You seemed to sense it. “Amir,” you whined, raking your nails across his skullcap. “Please—I—”

His heart sang. Amir. Not Cypher. Fuck, he was so close. He wanted to fill your perfect cunt, pump it so full of cum you forgot everything else. He reached down between the two of you and found your clit again, determined to make you feel as good as he was about to. “I love you,” he choked out. “I love you, sokar, cum for me—”

Just a few calculated strokes and you were suddenly there, spasming around his cock and milking him for all he was worth. He moaned helplessly into your mouth as he came, your long wail of pleasure ringing in his ears.

It felt like a lifetime before he could finally think again, the blood rushing back to his brain. Cypher relaxed his grip on your hips and leaned forward, still inside of you, resting his forehead on yours. After a moment, he dared to look into your eyes. Now that you’d been satisfied, were you still angry with him? Had he made up for tonight? Or had he just made everything worse?

To his relief, you held his gaze, and a tiny, weary smile began to form on your face. “Alright,” you said with a sigh. “I forgive you.”

[rainbow-rey]

Drunk & Nasty

Sam x Reader - MDNI!!

Summary: Reader gets reckless when she's drunk.

Tags: reader-insert, pov second person, p in v, creamp/e, size k/nk, drunk s/x, gr/nding

Posted on ao3 as a oneshot and part of a collection

"I love this song!" Abigail cries over the loud music. It’s some remix of a song that sounds vaguely familiar, like you’ve heard it on the radio before. You don’t really care to decipher the lyrics, especially not now that you’ve started sipping on the first of many drinks for the night. It’s been too long since you’ve gone drinking, and you’re more than happy to drown out the background noise with some liquid courage. 

Music isn’t the only thing you’re trying to drown out, however. The other one just so happens to be walking towards you and Abigail right now. And shit, the way he walks, oblivious to how his pants hug his thighs, how his arms push against the sleeves of his shirt. He has no idea what he does to you. That’s probably the worst part. 

“I got you your rum and coke, Y/N,” Sam says with a soft smile. His deep brown eyes linger on you for an extra moment before he turns to your best friend. “Seb’s coming with your drink in a sec, Abby. He’s over there. I’d be cautious if I were you; I saw a couple girls eyeing him when we were waiting at the bar.”

Abigail rolls her eyes. “That’s what I get for marrying the finest man in Pelican Town. Can’t go anywhere without having to be on pest control. I’ll be back soon.”

Sam turns to me as Abigail has a ‘harmless chat’ with Sebastian. “City girls can never handle the small-town charm.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m from Zuzu, and I’m getting along just fine. Your ‘small-town charm’ is pretty ineffective.” Lie. If only he knew. 

You take a sip of your drink as Sam goes on about his highly effective romance tactics. You’re not drunk enough to ignore how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. You want to run your fingers over it. Or how he instinctively moves to shield you from passersby, so you don’t get shoved. Everything about him is just so intoxicating. Maybe if you keep sipping, your body will focus on the actually dangerous substance in your bloodstream, instead of the buzz you get when Sam’s fingers graze your arm. 

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. You’re two drinks and a water in, but all it’s done is give you a strange urge to dance with the nearest person. Unfortunately, that happened to be Sam. You’re now singing lyrics to a song you didn’t realize you knew, trying to hide the way you’re ogling at his body as he moves with you. It’s clear he’s only dancing to please you, and it makes you wonder if maybe he might feel something?

Nope. Not doing that again. You’ve been there before, thought a guy might like you back. Every single time you’ve been disappointed, and you’re not going to make a fool of yourself anymore, not now that you’re a sensible adult… who happens to be grinding against her best friend. And he’s not pulling away. 

The song has changed to something more sensual, and so has your dancing. Sam’s hands are on your hips, your head back against his shoulder. You’re no longer thinking—the fourth sip of your third drink eliminated that possibility. Have you always been such a lightweight drinker? Regardless, your body moves with his so effortlessly, and it feels so right. You could stay pressed against him like this forever. 

You would have, too, if not for the asshole who bumps into you, spilling his drink on your top. 

“Shit!” you exclaim, reluctantly pulling away from Sam. The fucker’s drink was brightly coloured and sticky. You can’t just let it air dry. “I’m… I’m gonna go to the bathroom and clean this up.”

“Do you want help?” Sam asks, thoughtful as ever. 

You want to have to consider his offer, but you don’t have the patience or willpower. All you can think about is him carefully taking off your top in the stall, wiping your chest. Maybe you’d get a little carried away, his fingers starting to graze your nipples…

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” You grab his hand and drag him to the bathrooms. 

“Uh, should we really be doing this in the women’s room?” Sam looks around the stalls anxiously. 

“It’s fine. Nobody gives a shit about anything in Zuzu.” You pull him into the stall with you, along with several paper towels. You start dabbing at the stain, which will definitely not come out without a thorough wash. “Fuck. The one day my outfit actually looks good.” 

Sam unlocks the stall door and leaves quickly, leaving you confused. He comes back with a damp stack of napkins, and he starts to wipe gently at your chest. “Your outfits are always cute.” 

“Thanks, Sam.” It’s near impossible to hide your blush, but it’s not just from the compliment. He’s started to pat down your chest above the neckline, too, and even the slightest contact has your skin feeling hot. You watch him, admiring how gentle he is. He’s so careful, every movement intentional. Your eyes drift to his face, his lashes, his lips. He pauses his movements and makes eye contact with you, and you swallow. 

“Do you want to maybe take your shirt off? To clean underneath, I mean. It looked like the drink soaked through.” You could swear his gaze shifted to your chest, but only for a moment. 

It almost pains you how much you want to say yes, because you know what it’ll lead to. You’d get fucked in a Joja bathroom if it means Sam is the one inside you... You could fantasize for hours, but your dreams are shattered when Sam’s phone rings. 

“Shit, Y/N. I have to take this. I’m sorry. I’ll be back in a bit.” He looks genuinely disappointed as he rushes out of the stall. You are, too, but maybe this was for a reason?

You decide it’s best to just clean yourself off. You slide up your top and use a damp paper towel to wipe your chest and dab at the fabric you were wearing. It was a white baby tee, paired perfectly with your black denim miniskirt. You’re not sure what you’ll do now, though. Maybe you can borrow Abby’s jacket? 

The universe seems like it isn’t fucking with you today, however. You were dancing, everything was perfect, then that careless dickhead came along and didn’t pay attention to where he was going. Sam literally asked you to take your shirt off. Then he got that fucking phone call. Why can’t anything go your way?

You come out of the stall, reapply your lip gloss, and exit the bathroom. Sam is texting on his phone, but he looks up when he hears the door. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. My dad called to ask me when I was coming back, but he basically never calls, so I thought something was up. Everything’s fine. How are you?”

“I’m glad you’re okay. I’m fine. I cleaned what I could. I’m not sure how I’ll cover it, though…”

Sam, being the amazing man he is, immediately takes off his jacket. “Here. Take this. I’ll be fine, and you look cute in it.”

You almost melt. You accept this as an apology from the universe, because the jacket smells like him. Sam’s scent is one you’ve never been able to get enough of, especially because it’s very weird to go around smelling boys. Now, however… You try to take the most discreet sniff of his collar possible. By the way the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, it probably wasn’t discreet enough, but you could care less. His scent is so intoxicating, God. 

“Come, let’s head back to the guys. Seb texted me saying that Abby is on drink number six and she’s basically trying to absorb him. I think we need to save him.” 

You’re not entirely sure what your friends are talking about. The music and lights are too overstimulating, and you’re too drained to try and decipher what they’re saying. You’re only focused on the feeling of Sam’s bicep, which you are wrapped around like a vine. He smells so fucking good, and he’s basically a walking furnace. You, in your short-sleeved crop top and miniskirt, are incredibly grateful for the warmth radiating from his body. He hardly seems to mind, either, occasionally running a hand through your hair or giving your interlocked fingers a squeeze. You think you may die. 

Sam and Sebastian are talking about some kind of sport when Abby tugs on Seb’s sleeve. You can’t hear what she’s saying, but Sam informs you that it was to say that she’s about to puke. The two of them run off after saying quick goodbyes, presumably because Abigail can never do something once. She’s all-or-nothing, but unfortunately it also applies to violently throwing up. She’ll be stuck over the toilet for a while. 

"R.I.P. Abby," Sam mutters in your ear. 

You nod in solidarity. "I feel bad for the plumbers."

He laughs. "Since they’re out of the picture now, what do you want to do? Feel like staying for a bit?"

"I guess. Let’s just sit somewhere, then."

Sam drags you to a newly-empty stool at the bar. There’s only one seat, and he offers it to you. 

"Aren’t your feet tired?" You look up at him. He’s been dancing with you all night, and your legs are on fire. 

"Yeah, but yours are probably worse. You sit." 

"We’ll share the seat. I can, like, sit on your lap or something." You push him onto the unfortunately small barstool. 

"You’re okay with that?" He looks kind of surprised. "Why wouldn’t I be? I suggested it. Help me up." He does as you say, pulling you on his lap. 

You sit on Sam’s knee, feeling his shaped quads under you. You lean back, playing with his hair. It’s so soft, and so is his skin. Was he always so soft? He’s so strong, too. Very muscular. You follow the tattoos on his arms and catch part of a tattoo under his tank top, and wonder if there are more. Maybe he’ll let you see all of them. You run your acrylics down his firm biceps, hardly able to contain yourself. There’s just something about your best friend… The way he’s holding your thigh, pulling you closer to him. The heat that pools in your abdomen whenever he whispers something in your ear. Everything about him makes your heart swell and your clit throb. 

Sam gives you a look, but you don’t know what it means. Carefully, he lifts you—God, he can do it so easily; you’ve always had a thing for strong men—and helps you sit to straddle his leg. You’re not sure why, but you’re not about to complain; his thigh is so firm, and his muscles brush against your clit through your little panties. 

You blame it on the alcohol as you hold onto Sam’s shoulders, using them to help you rub back and forth on his leg. It starts slow, subtle, and pleasure radiates from your aching clit. The material of your panties drags along your clit, the feeling driving you crazy. 

You’re not sure if Sam noticed your cunt rubbing against him at first, but he definitely did when you shoved your face into his shoulder, muffling a moan. Sam lifts your chin so your eyes meet his, and as worried as you are that he’ll be mad, your hips still don’t stop moving. If anything, you’re grinding faster, your chase for that delicious high only being fueled by the intense eye contact. 

"Do I turn you on this much?" asks Sam, his voice low and rough. The look in his eyes tells a story of desire, and you’re no longer worried whether he’s mad. 

You nod in response to his question. You bite your lip to hold in your whimpers.  

"Keep going, baby. I wanna see you come for me." Sam brings his hand to your cheek, cupping your face. His other hand moves to your ass, and he guides your movements. Your hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to buck against him. 

The eye contact makes the friction against your clit ten times better. You whimper as the fabric snags on your sensitive spot. You can hardly believe this is finally happening—after years of needing Sam more than oxygen, you have him, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted, too. His eyes drop to your lips and make their way up to your eyes again, but not before lingering on the way your tits spill out of your shirt. 

Sam brings his mouth to yours, capturing your lips. You whine into his mouth, now desperate for release. He snakes a hand into your hair, tugging gently, and you reach your climax. "I’m coming," you say against Sam’s mouth. 

He groans in approval. "Good girl. You look so pretty when you come." 

"Only for you," you whimper, still recovering from your high. 

"Even better. Now, let’s go home. I want you all to myself." Sam pulls you off his lap and brings you to head out. You hold his hand, wrapping your arm around his as he pays his tab and brings you outside. The cool air hits your skin and you’re starting to regret wearing this miniskirt. Despite the shiver that runs through your body, there’s something hot about it… Your panties are still soaked, and anyone could see them if you just bent down a little.

Soon, the Uber you’re assuming Sam called arrives, and he pulls you onto his lap in the backseat. He tells the driver the address before moving to whisper in your ear, "Y’know how long I’ve been waiting for you? Gonna fuck you so good, baby."

You almost whine in response before remembering you’re not alone. Instead, you nod eagerly. "Please," you beg, your voice hardly a sound. You can barely think straight; your brain is clouded with thoughts of Sam. Pounding you into the bed, making sure the only word you remember is his name. Your cunt gushes with slick, helping soak your panties even more than they already were. 

Sam trails his long fingers up your thighs, sending heat to your center. He rubs your clit through the fabric of your underwear, and you’re forced to bite your lip to hold in a moan. Sam’s fingers are thick, and the pressure from his fingers is so agonizingly delicious. Silencing your noises is a job now, especially when the tip of Sam’s finger pushes into your hole through the material. He pulls it away, which disappoints you, but the pressure on your clit returns. When his thumb joins the other fingers, he pinches your clit. Slight pain mixes with pleasure; the stimulation increases and so does your enjoyment. Sam’s fingers keep pressing at your aching clit, and you have to muffle your whines into his shoulder again. You crave more, needing the feeling of him. 

Lucky for you, the Uber pulls up in front of your building. Sam literally carries you upstairs, making you swoon even more. You run your hands through his hair and press openmouthed kisses to his neck. He groans and you can feel his erection against your thigh. 

As soon as you’re through the door, Sam has his mouth on you. He kisses you with passion, one hand at your neck, the other reaching under your shirt. His fingers graze your hardened nipples over the bra you’re wearing. You couldn’t have predicted just how much you’d wish you weren’t wearing one, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind. He slides your thin top over your head and tosses it to the side, then unclasps your bra with a practiced ease. He groans softly as he sees your bare breasts. 

“So gorgeous, baby,” he murmurs, trailing his fingers along your breast, swirling delicately around your nipple. He starts to rub, and instinctively your back arches. You let out a soft cry, then another less gentle one when he latches onto the other nipple. His tongue provides a sensation that makes your cunt leak and your knees buckle. 

“Fuck! Fuck, please, Sam,” you whine out. He gives your nipple one last pinch, earning a whine from you, before starting to undo your skirt. He slides the denim down and gets you to step out of it—a difficult feat, as your legs are hardly working, mostly from the sheer excitement and adrenaline pumping through you. 

“Shit, you’re soaked, babe. Is this all for me?” You can only nod as Sam’s fingers trace over the crotch of your panties. He goes in circles, so close to where you need it but not quite there. His teasing coats your panties even more, but there’s only so much you can take. 

“Sam, please…” you whimper. 

“Please what? I want to hear you say it.”

You barely can, the way he lightly ghosts over your clit—not enough to satisfy you the way you’ve been wanting, but just enough to make you need more. 

“I want you, Sam, fuck,“ you manage to get out. Just as you open your mouth to clarify, Sam’s tongue is on your nipple again. You let out a low moan, your fingers digging into his silky hair. “I need your mouth—fuck!—I need it on my pussy, please,” you make out. 

“Your wish is my command, princess.” Sam’s mouth leaves your nipple, but his fingers pull down the sides of your panties. The fabric sticks to your cunt with all the slick. “So beautiful for me, baby.” Sam guides his fingers around your outer lips before parting them softly. 

He collects some of the slick leaking from your hole and brings it up to lubricate your clit. The feeling of his fingers on you is heavenly, and your moans convey the message well enough. Sam’s rough fingers press your clit deliciously, but his mouth still isn’t on you. And maybe he’s a mind reader, because when he removes his fingers, they’re replaced by his warm tongue. You let out a cry, your hips bucking against his mouth. He flattens his tongue and your eyes roll back, trying so, so hard to savour this feeling, but you’re not sure if you can last any longer. 

His tongue flicks against your clit slowly at first, but he speeds up soon. His tongue feels like a vibrator, pulsing against your sensitive nub. It’s not your first time getting eaten out, but nobody’s ever satisfied you the way he can. His body touching yours is just so addictive. You can already tell; this man will end up driving you insane. 

You think you already might be when Sam slides a finger into your cunt. He knows just what to do, massaging your g-spot in a way that makes you see stars. The sounds of his groans against your mound, your little whines, and his finger slipping in and out of you echo the room—and your screams, because Sam added another finger. He fills you up so sinfully, your knees buckle and your hole clenches. 

"Ah, I’m coming, Sam, fuck!" you cry. Your orgasm is the most intense one you’ve had in years. Your pussy convulses around his fingers, trapping them in. He massages you as you ride out your high, licking your clit as well. You have no choice but to melt into Sam, as your legs are jelly. 

He retracts his fingers and moves up to be face to face with you on the bed. You lean against him and he presses a soft kiss against your lips. You kiss him back, this time more passionate. He just has an air to him that you can’t resist—you’re entirely unsure how you haven’t tried to fuck him already. Your lips part and his tongue enters your mouth—he tastes like you. God, everything about him makes you want to carry his babies. 

Sam breaks away from the kiss and helps the both of you to your feet. He wraps his arms around you again and gets you to rest your legs around his waist, and he carries you to the bedroom. Your bare cunt rubs against his clothed erection as you walk, and he notices. 

"Shit, baby. Gonna fuck you so good." Sam groans against your skin as he peppers kisses on your neck. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Sam lays you down on the bed and starts to remove his clothes. "Touch yourself for me, princess. I wanna see how you get your pretty little pussy off." 

Fucking hell, you’d do anything for this man. You suck on your middle and ring fingers, keeping eye contact with him as you cover them in your saliva. You bring your fingers down to your cunt and rub your clit, letting out little moans as you do. You slide them in your pussy, hitting right where you need to. 

Sam is fully naked, and he pulls a bottle of lube from his drawer while still watching you fuck yourself. He lubes himself up and pumps a few times before reaching for the hand that’s inside you right now. He brings your fingers to his lips and sucks off your juices, then drops your hand. He uses his own fingers, inserting two into you and massaging your g-spot. 

"Fuck, Sam…" you moan. He curls his fingers and lets his palm rub against your swollen clit. "Shit, stop, I’ll cum if you keep doing that," you say, forcing his hand out of you. 

Sam wipes your juices off on his throbbing cockhead, already covered in pre. He lines himself up with your cunt, his wet tip sliding against you. He slowly, carefully pushes the bright head of his cock into your awaiting hole. 

Your cunt stretches as his girth enters you, and he feels so sinful. He keeps pushing, your plushy walls sucking in his thick cock. You feel the ridges and veins scrape along your g-spot, and you can feel every part of him inside you. He slides in so easily, and you can hear a little squelch when he fits it all in. 

"You’re so tight," he groans, rolling his hips against you. Your walls stretch at the feeling of his length stuffing you full. Sam lets you adjust to his size, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. He licks your bottom lip and you pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss. 

He pulls out of you and leaves just the tip, dragging a whine out of you at the emptiness—you’re about to slide him back in again yourself when he slams back into you, forcing a loud cry from your lips. He starts to thrust into you in rough motions, his balls slapping your ass and his cock hitting the spot inside that makes your eyes roll back. 

"Fuck, Sam," you cry. "Can’t believe I—ah—waited so long to do this—shit, Sam, right there—" 

Sam doesn’t stop his assault on your pussy. His hard length fucks into you in a way that tells you he’s been waiting for this as long as you have. One of his hands pulls your leg up over his shoulder, letting him reach impossibly deeper into you, while the other leaves bruising marks on your hip. 

"Gonna fuck you so good, baby," Sam slurs, drunk from the alcohol and your pussy. Your soft walls sucking him in feels so addicting; he doesn’t think he can get enough. "Gonna fuck this pretty little cunt ’til you can’t take it anymore, ’til you forget every word but my name. You like that, princess?" 

You don’t really know what he said, only that his cock is pounding relentlessly into your g-spot. Your eyes roll back into your head when his thumb starts to abuse your clit. "Oh, Sam, I’m coming—!"

"I know, baby. Let it out." Sam’s thrusts become more jagged and rushed, but he keeps thrusting into you so deliciously, his finger flicking your clit over and over, until finally you’re coming. God, it feels so good, and even better when Sam starts fucking out his own orgasm. It doesn’t take more than two thrusts for him to explode into you, his hot cum flooding your insides. Your pussy spasms around his girth and your breath shakes as Sam collapses onto you. He doesn’t pull out—he needs to make sure every drop of his seed stays in you. 

You pull him into a kiss, this time soft and loving. Your tongues dance as you feel his body on yours. His mouth on yours, one hand now gently massaging your tit while the other cups your cheek, and his cock continuing to throb inside you. You think this just might be the most content you’ve ever felt. 

"Sam," you whisper, breaking the kiss.

"Yes, princess?" His warm eyes lock onto yours.

"Can we try doggy now?"

[josephquinnswhore]

got another pedro x plus size reader (because they give me confidence and make me feel better about myself)

going to a premier of one if pedro movies and then going to like an after party with all his celeb friends. having drinks and fun etc. turns into reader and pedro dancing and reader grinding/twerking on pedro.

goes based off that video of tiffany hadish dancing on pedro at a party and oh how i envy that woman. *hey alexa play that should be me by justin bieber*

then they go home and yeah make that shit

❤️‍🔥🔥 spicy 🔥❤️‍🔥

(i love you and thank you for sharing your writing you deserve the world babe 🥹🩷 )

His Girl - pedro pascal x female reader

Summary: unknown feelings between you and Pedro is admitted after some sexual tension.

Word Count: 3.2k

Content Warnings: friends to lovers trope (hope you don’t mind), drinking alcohol, spicy dancing, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie. :)

Note: I’ve not felt peace since I’ve seen this video. He’s so bashful and I would love nothing in the world more than to shake my ass on this man. (And hug him) 💜🤌🏼 song is 'just a little bit' by 50 cent. you know..... that one tiktok edit <3

You knew you messed up coming to an afterparty with you best friend, Pedro. You knew you would end up drinking too much and having too much fun, you knew you would pretend for a night that Pedro was yours and things would be everything you ever wanted in the morning, but it was never, it was always you and Pedro sharing the same bed, fully clothed from the night before, both with pounding heads and hungover. A vomit bucket had been placed on your side on the bed, who did it you were never sure, but it was almost routine for you two to hangout afterwards.

Which is why you were reluctant to join Pedro this evening, a bar, with drinks and dancing, it was inevitable and you could hardly bare it anymore. The pain was too much for you to handle, being Pedro's friend was too much for you when you had moments when you acted like a couple. The moments like this where you were by his side, it was insufferable, you found yourself wanting more than friendship, not daring to speak a word no matter how much it hurt.

“You look incredible, give me a spin gorgeous.” You oblige, cheeks flushed hot and red at Pedro’s praise. He takes your hand in his, holding it above his head as he spins you, looking you up and down to get the full picture of you.

Your curves on full display in the dress that clung to you, your hips accentuated had Pedro feeling feral, like something was going to overcome him and he was just going to pounce-he could hardly contain the way his cock twitched at the sight of you.

“Alright, alright. We better get a move on or we’ll be late.” Encouraging him out the door, you give him a gentle push as you lead him out of your apartment, the feeling of his broad shoulders under your fingertips had your hand lingering a moment longer than it should’ve. God he looked incredible, the suit fit him perfectly, his tummy slightly hung over his pants as the white dress shirt underneath was tightly tucked into his dress pants.

His hair was soft and unruly as the curls sit on his head, a masterpiece thanks to your fingers making quick work of his messy hair and some styling mousse.

He opens the door for you, like a complete gentleman, little do you know his eyes are stuck to the picture of your ass bending over to get into his car. Fuck he really has to get a grip of himself.

He follows the gps instruction, coming to a stop at a red light, you realise he’s starring at you, your ears tingle at how hot they feel under his watchful eyes.

“Do I have something on my face?” You question anxiously, pulling down the reflector to check in the mirror if there was something he could be starring at, wanting to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“No, you just look beautiful.” You feel the ache in your heart forming before he finishes the sentence, realising how much you love this man; it was difficult, it almost felt forbidden. Pedro didn’t do relationships, you knew you were absolutely fucked from the moment you met him.

“Hey, everything okay?” You hum in surprise as he pulls you out of your own head, not realising how much your thoughts had consumed you. His brown orbs are full of concern as your mood changes after his compliment, he thinks he’s done something wrong.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got some things on my mind.” His hand rests on your forearm, offering a gentle caress to keep you grounded, with him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He pulls up to the valie parking, the car still running as the man dressed in a tuxedo takes Pedro’s car keys.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just enjoy our evening, sorry for being a bummer.”

Pedro can’t help the frown that pinches his eyebrows together, he wanted to help, to hold you, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this, so distant and far from the woman he knew you to be. He sees the way you push it all back internally, like putting a half read book back onto the shelf to be finished later, the fake smile that sits on your lips as you enter the venue.

The bar is full of people you know, the purple lights shining bright on your matte purple dress, the colour looks incredible on your skin as you approach the bar to ask for a drink. The drink is slid across the bar and you take a sip, scrunching your face up in disgust but swallow the cool liquid anyway, it warms your insides in a way that’s addicting, so you throw your head back and finish what’s in the glass. You ‘ah’ as you set the glass down and order another, confidence through the roof as your empty stomach consumes the calories from the drink.

The lack of food in your stomach had the alcohol settling in your blood stream too quickly, it went straight to your head, feeling a little woozy as you’d consumed the second drink. The tall glass full of nothing but alcohol, your tolerance was below average and you mindlessly leave Pedro at the bar, trying to forget about the love you have for him. Tonight you were going to have fun.

You wished you could’ve prepared yourself for the night ahead of you.

Things were going great for most of the night, casual talk with some family here and there, after your sixth drink in one hour you were beginning to regret not taking more time in between. The last of the liquid slips down your throat, and for the first time since you arrived together, you see Pedro watching you.

A familiar tune rings in your ears through the blaring speakers that would leave you with a headache tomorrow. But for now, that tune set something slight in you, you set the empty glass down on a nearby table, your body moving to the beat. This song did things to you, reminded you of him. You decide to put on a show for him, since he was watching and you were absolutely out of your mind giddy and drunk.

Damn baby all I need is a lil' bit

A lil' bit of this, a lil' bit of that

Get it crackin' in the club when you hear the shit

Drop it like it's hot, get to workin' that back

You keep eye contact as you roll your hips to the music, feeling completely yourself as you amerce yourself and give in to the music completely.

You don’t feel him at first, once you realise he’s behind you, you smirk mischievously with an idea that’s probably not a good idea, but fuck it. He was looking so fine and this song had you feeling some kinda way.

Girl, shake that thing, yeah, work that thing

Let me see it go up and down

Rotate that thing, I wanna touch that thing

When you make it go 'round and 'round

His hands find your hips, guiding you closer to him as you shake your ass skilfully, grinding on him teasingly, you look back to him and his hair is messy, eyes are dark and he’s got one hand rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, a shy grin on his lips as he enjoys himself and the sight of you on him.

The crowd that’s surrounded you was cheering, their voices and noise in the back of your mind as you stand straight and turn to face Pedro, wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms around your waist as you and he work in sync to move against each other.

I wanna unbutton your pants just a lil' bit

Take 'em off and pull 'em down just a lil' bit

Get to kissin' and touchin' a lil' bit

Get to lickin' it, a lil' bit

Pedro’s hand caress your hips, running them up and down your curves, dark eyes watching you intensely as you show off for him, your confidence attracting him to you tenfold. The way your body moved effortlessly, the way you held eye contact with him and ran a hand down his chest seductively had him weak in the knees.

Your hands make quick work to unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt, never minding the people around you that are videoing the interaction, you felt like you and Pedro were the only two people in the room. His hands caress your ass, grabbing a handful in a state of his own drunken haze and need for more of you. He pulls you closer, you’re flush against his sweating body and you feel his rock hard cock straining in the confines of his pants.

You feel yourself soaking your perfect lace panties as his hands guide your ass to grind against him, his eyes breaking contact with your own to lean his forehead down onto your shoulder, kissing the bare skin in butterfly kisses, licking a stripe up your neck never reminding the sweat.

“C’mon baby you’re killing me, need you do fucking bad.” You gasp at his full transparency, regardless of your flirty interaction on the dance floor the song fades out, he still holds you against him, not wanting to lose this moment with you.

“Let’s go home handsome. I’ll take care of you.” He gives you one last squeeze of your ass and rushed through the farewells of the crowd, you walk closely in front of him to hide his indiscretion. Once you’re outside, the cool air has your teeth chattering as you wait for an Uber Pedro had ordered, he would worry about the car later.

You feel a warmth embracing your shoulders, soft material clinging off your body. You turn to Pedro and see he’s given you his suit jacket, left in his white long sleeve dress shirt that’s still tucked into his suit pants. He suddenly seems shy as your eyes scan him up and down, pausing when you see his soft tummy slightly overhanging his dress pants, your hands caress him in a silent praise, but verbalise it anyway, knowing he’s insecure about it.

“Fucking love your tummy, you know that?” You’re swaying, he’s convinced that it’s just because you’re drunk, in a way because you were trying to distract yourself from whatever was upsetting you earlier.

“I know baby.” He holds your head to his chest, playing with your hair with his fingertips grazing your scalp you let out a groan, he always knew how to make you feel good in an intimate way.

You pass out as soon as you get in the Uber, Pedro watches over you to make sure you’re still breathing, the amount you had to drink tonight was more than he’d ever seen. He also didn’t want you to choke if you vomited, so he pulled your body into him, turning your head downward facing his lap, yes it would be unfortunate if you did happen to puke right into his lap, but hey-he would take the chance.

He pays for the Uber when you arrive back at your place, he manages to pick you up bridal style, all while digging through your purse to find your keys to unlock the front door. Not knowing how to manoeuvre around your house in the dark, he turns a light on which stirs you from your slumber, your eyes fluttering open just as he sets you down in your bed.

He returns with a wet washcloth to wipe your face, trying to cool you down, offering you a drink of water which you accept. “Thanks.” You mumble embarrassed of your shenanigans tonight. “Need any help getting into your pyjamas?” You nod pathetically, bottom lip jutting outward in a big pout as you give him your best puppy dog eyes. Your legs still felt like jelly and your arms were too heavy for you to lift, you were starting to sober up, but you just wanted to lay in the comfort of your mountain of blankets and too many pillows.

He unzips your dress from the side, peeling the straps from your shoulders, pulling it down to your ankles and hanging it up on the coat hanger and up on the wall, not wanting to crinkle or have the delicate material stepped on.

He didn’t realise you weren’t wearing a bra when he comes back with pyjamas, the only thing covering your body was the small piece of material of your black mesh panties. He feels guilty that his cock bounces at the sight of you, bare. You’re more perfect than he ever could’ve imagined. He feels like a pervert, you need his help and he tells himself he’s doing wrong by you.

Your hand grasps his, drawing his attention back to your face, your bottom lip sucked in between your teeth as you watch him, noticing his internal struggle as he sees you, all for him.

You grab him by the collar, pulling him down to you, smashing your lips into his in desperation, tears of pent up feelings and hidden emotions coming to play in the fight for dominance. He pulls back, gasping for air, your hands tangle in his hair and tug lightly which earns a soft moan from him.

“We don’t have to do this.” He offers, giving you an out before you possibly ruin your friendship.

“Want to, want you. Love you so much, please.” A single tear escapes the corner of your eye, he wipes it away with his thumb, sincerity on his face as you confess your love for him.

“Fuck baby I’ve always loved you, why didn’t you say anything.” You help him unbutton his shirt, discarding it to your bedside nightstand, it knocks something off in the process which makes you laugh.

“Was scared you wouldn’t want me cause of how I look.” Pedro grips your face gently with one hand, forcing you to look at him, a sympathetic look strewn on his face, “oh baby, you’re so fucking perfect. And god you know how to shake that ass.”

You giggle as he grabs a handful of your ass, pushing your panties to the side in a desperate attempt to feel you, he couldn’t wait much longer. The action sent you into a frenzy, hands grabbing at his belt as you unbuckled him, pulling his pants and underwear down to his knees, spreading your legs to make room for him between your legs. Your eyes are wide and you inhale a gasp as you see the size of him, it’s thick, about 7 inches and a few shades lighter than his skin tone, he was trimmed and fuck he was perfect.

“Is it okay?” He mutters nervously, anxiety driving his insecurity. You look at him through your lashes and bath your eyes at him as he’s hovering over you.

“It’s fucking perfect baby, you’re so big I dunno if I can take it.” Pedro grunts at your praise, his cock jumping upward.

His fingers slide into you easily, your hole is dripping onto your sheets, the alcohol being a bad influence on your holes need to be fucked. He slowly pumps two fingers inside of you, not bothering to take his time to start of with one, you took him easily with how wet you are, sucking his fingers back in as he curled them upward at the spongey flesh that had your back arched off the bed and eyes clenched shut.

“Fuck Pedro, feels so good.” He leans his head down, humming against your breasts, your hardened nipples are aching with need, wanting some attention paid to them too. He kisses them sloppily, nipping and grazing his teeth as he pulls away, the sensation has you squirming beneath him.

“Need more, please,” you beg impatiently, just wanting his cock to fill your cunt, needing to feel him, all of him.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll take care of you.” His thumb meets your aching clit, relieving some pressure as he swirls it around in delicious small tight circles, the pressure was building by the second, the pleasure was almost too much, the skilful action has you gripping your duvet, legs wrapping around his own as you try to pull him closer, “come on baby, cum on my fingers.” You fell apart at his words, creaming on his fingers that massaged your sweet spot, your legs are shaking and your ears are ringing as a string of moans leave your lips. He continues pumping into you slowly, stringing your climax along as much as he can.

When he takes his fingers out of you, the emptiness makes you whine, he sucks your orgasm off his fingers, the action makes you squirm.

“I don’t have a condom baby.” He says pitifully, the head of his cock sticky in clear precum, the head was angry and red at being hard all night with no friction to help relieve him.

“Don’t care, I’m on the pill n I’m clean, please. Need you so bad.” Your voice wavers, still feeling the effects of your orgasm. He guides his cock to your entrance, watching your eyes for any signs of regret. He slides the head in, it’s thick and his fingers are no prep for the size of him, it burns slightly as he pushes in, you whimper, “fuck, so big.” He lets you adjust before pushing further into you, bottoming out, he lets out a breathy groan at the feel of you.

“Not gonna last with how good you feel.” He admits shamefully, you caress his face and kiss his forearm that’s right by your head, “it’s okay baby, move, please.”

Your hole quickly gets used to the size of him, your chest is heavyifng at how he takes your breath away, you bring your legs up to wrap around his lower back, bringing him closer to you, into you.

“Jesus’s fucking Christ baby,” he mutters, finding a steady pace as he pumps into you, slamming into your puffy walls, your whimpers and moans are getting louder and louder as your second climax builds, “fuck ‘m gonna cum, harder please.” He obliges, fucking into you ruthlessly, wanting you to cum again as he begins to sweat, trying to stop himself from cumming in you before you can reach your high.

“Fuck fuck fuck me, fuck Pedro, that’s it. Cock feels so fucking perfect.” Your legs tremble as you fall apart on his cock, stomach spasms as you come undone again, this orgasm coming down on you harder than the last.

Pedro cums seconds later, “fuck, feel so good baby.” His voice is breathy, deep and husky as he cums, his moans loud as the white ropes of his cum paint your walls, his sperm shooting deep inside your womb.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to lie completely flush against your cool, sweaty skin. You both sit in silence as you feel him go soft inside of you. You massage the back of his head, twisting the curls around your pointer finger.

“Did you mean it?” He asks, voice raspy and vulnerable.

“Mean what?” Unsure of what he means, what did you say?

“That you love me.” You feel anxious, a thousand thoughts running through your head per minute.

“Yeah I do.” He relaxed into you more, breathing evens at your words and you feel yourself becoming more at ease.

“Good, cause I want you to be mine."

You kiss the corner of his lips, "would love nothing more than to be yours."

Thank god you went out drinking this evening.

[charmandabear]

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Leather and Lace

Summary

Lady Estelle wasn't expecting to fall for her tailor, of all people. But with everything under her control during the day, she's more than content to cede control to him at night.

Pairing: Astarion/F!OC Rating: E Word Count: 5.7k Tags/Warnings: unprotected sex, orgasm denial, safeword discussion, light bondage, d/s dynamic, p in v sex, vampire sex, biting, vampire bites, blood drinking, sexual tension, casual classism, AU, (sorta, you can make an argument), praise kink

Read on AO3

Something in me turned feral when I saw Hamrikaa's tailor!Astarion art and I needed to get this out of my system. It doesn't help that I work with costumes irl and I suddenly got a lot of opinions about Astarion and sewing.

I have more thoughts on this relationship, particularly with the class difference and power dynamics. I also really want a story with a plus size protag since I'm really tired of feeling like the implication is that all Tavs/OCs are the type 1 body. So let me know if that's something that appeals to you, or if you're interested in a longer version with more than just sexual tension and smut, lol.

Fucking Arfur.

It’s sundown on a Saturday and Lady Estelle Rosewinter is traipsing through the Lower City looking for a tailor. Arfur Gregorio had shown up to her masquerade several hours early already intoxicated. While trying to shoo him off the grounds, he had stepped on her gown, ripping the seam of the thigh high slit to a nearly obscene height. Now, as guests are beginning to arrive, she isn’t there to greet them and is rather passing shop after shop putting up their closing signs. 

She could have just chosen a different gown as her handmaiden Celia had suggested, except that it took her so long to get into the damn thing. She thought that getting it fixed would take but a minute. It did not occur to her that, given the hour, finding an available tailor would prove so difficult.

Estelle is about to give up when she sees a dim little shop out of the corner of her eye. It’s not on the main drag, but rather up a quiet alleyway. But there’s no mistaking the sign.

Threads of Starlight

The door to the shop is clearly open, so she rushes in, desperate to speak with the proprietor.

“My apologies, I know you’re probably about to close, but I have an emergency, and I promise that I’ll pay handsomely for the inconvenience–” she cuts herself off as the tailor walks out from the back. He’s so much more attractive than she would’ve expected from someone of his station. His clothes are humble but understandably incredibly well-fitting, his trousers gently hugging his lean legs and the sleeves of his light linen top rolled up above his elbows, revealing pale, slender forearms. His silvery hair looks windswept and effortless, although Estelle knows it takes a practiced hand to get one’s hair just right like that. There’s a measuring tape slung around his neck and he looks briefly startled by her appearance before a practiced charm takes over.

“No need for apologies, Lady…” he leaves a gap in his speech for her to tell him her name. His voice is melodic.

“Estelle. Lady Estelle.” She tries to match his honeyed tone but her mouth has suddenly gone dry. He takes her hand and gently presses his lips to her knuckles.

“Lady Estelle. The pleasure is all mine,” he coos and a shiver goes up her spine. What on earth would a tailor need with this much charisma? Without letting go of her hand, he gracefully leads her up onto the fitting stand in the middle of the shop. She has danced with the finest nobility in Baldur’s Gate, and none of them were even half this elegant.

“Now please, tell me what I can do for you. I hope there’s nothing wrong with this beautiful gown of yours. Is it one of Galwen’s?” The way he looks at her makes her feel exposed, almost naked, despite the conversation literally being about her clothes. She clears her throat in an attempt to regain some composure.

“Yes, I’ve been going to her for years, but she’s tragically unavailable this evening.” Not that Estelle didn’t try. She sent three messengers and finally went to Galwen’s door herself, but she refused to open back up. Pity, since it looks like she’s lost Estelle’s business for good, especially if this one turns out to be as good as he looks. And gods does he look good.

“All the more fortunate for me that I stay open late,” he says in a low tone, and gooseflesh breaks out over Estelle’s arms. “Now, tell me darling,” he coughs at letting the casual pet name slip out, “pardon me, my Lady, how can I be your gown’s savior this evening?” Estelle hadn’t heard the rest of his sentence because her ears started ringing at the “darling.” Normally she would not take too kindly to someone in the working class speaking so informally to her. She’s beginning to feel lightheaded. Has she been hexed? Does this happen to any who cross his threshold?

“It’s torn,” she says in an uncharacteristically small voice. “Right here.” She lifts her skirt at the thigh slit, threads popping out of the seam. In an instant the tailor is on one knee, examining it closely. With him suddenly this close, all of her symptoms dissipate and are replaced by just one: desire.

She tries to shake herself out of it. Not only would anything of the sort be wildly inappropriate - given her status in Baldur’s Gate, an affair with a lowly tailor would be splashed all over Baldur’s Mouth within hours - this man is a consummate professional, and she’s certain that he would never return her affections. He must look beneath dozens of hems a day, this is nothing out of the ordinary for him. 

He touches the fabric as he studies it, cool fingers lightly grazing Estelle’s skin. She gasps at the sensation, and he looks up at her sheepishly.

“I’m terribly sorry, I have poor circulation. My touch is always something nasty, I’m afraid.” Estelle shakes her head and finds anywhere to look but into those piercing red eyes. 

“It’s fine, really. I have an important evening planned, so I’m a bit jumpy,” she lies through her teeth. He steps away to pick up a needle and thread from behind the counter. While his back is turned, Estelle takes the time alone to wipe sweat off her brow. This man is making her burn up inside and out.

“Oh really?” he sings as he’s back down on his knees, dangerously close to her upper thigh once again. “And pray forgive me, but I must reach up slightly in order to make this repair, if that’s alright. I promise, I’ll be the picture of a gentleman.” He looks up at her, waiting for her consent before touching her further. Estelle, worried what might come out if she opened her mouth, just nods. 

He slides his hand between the fabric and her leg, pulling it out slightly so he can tuck his needle into the underside of the seam. Estelle bites down on her tongue to keep from moaning. She knows that she’s touch-starved, it’s been far too long since anyone has warmed her bedsheets. Between running a household, meeting with politicians and nobility alike, and her position in the Baldur’s Gate arts council, she hardly has the time. But this is ridiculous. A gentle caress from a man should not elicit this much heat between her thighs, and yet here she is, keeping them pressed together tight, the slight pressure her only relief. 

His fingers move deftly, pulling the needle through the fabric with ease. He’s focusing on his work so intently, and Estelle watches him almost like he’s a dream. He begins tying off the thread, and before he’s complete, his eyes flick upward to meet Estelle’s.

“All finis-” he begins, but Estelle is so startled by the intensity of his gaze that she jumps, causing him to prick his finger with the needle. A tiny droplet of blood lands on the pale pink silk. The tailor jumps back, horrified, and immediately starts apologizing profusely.

“Oh gods, Lady Estelle, I’m so terribly sorry, look at what a clumsy little fool I am, gods on such a beautiful dress, too,” his words tumble out of him, all composure that was once there, now gone. She’s finding this flustered side of him possibly even more appealing than the cool and collected version. Her lady-of-the-house instincts kick in, and she addresses him like a new maid who has accidentally broken china while transporting it to the kitchen. 

“Darling,” she breathes and lifts his chin with a finger. She can finally look into those crimson eyes, feeling herself regain the poise she’s accustomed to. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just a speck.” She swears she can hear his breath catch, but maybe it’s just wishful thinking because he recovers quickly.

“Perhaps, but I still feel terrible. This mend is on the house, as well as any alteration you might need done on another garment. And, ah. How to say this.” He looks flushed again, despite the paleness of his skin. “There is a foolproof way of getting one’s blood out of fabric, but it’s not the most, er, refined shall I say.” This piques Estelle’s intrigue.

“Really? And what way is that?”

The tailor shifts nervously, and she positively relishes in the trade in demeanors. 

“This only works if it’s the one the blood belongs to, but if you can catch it straight away, then, erm, saliva will do the trick,” he says with a chagrined smile. Whatever Estelle was expecting, this is not it. 

“Oh,” she responds, and suddenly she’s back to that lightheaded feeling. What is he proposing exactly? Whatever it may be, she’s certain it will involve his mouth in some way and she’s not sure how she’ll handle that.

“The next five alterations are free, I’m so very sorry, this is very uncommon while working on a garment. At least, I’m usually better at catching myself,” he adds with embarrassment. 

“Uh, yes, whatever- whatever needs to be done. Thank you.” She peers down at him, willing herself to find somewhere else to look but unable to tear her eyes away. He pops a thin, pale finger in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. She swallows loudly as he takes his finger out and dabs it on the slit of her dress, still achingly close to her thigh. He rubs at the spot, but evidently it’s not enough, because he then brings his lips to her dress and lightly rubs his tongue on the silk. 

“Oh gods,” she can’t keep this moan from escaping her lips. If he can hear her, he doesn’t respond, blessedly. He pulls away from her, silver hair ever so slightly disheveled, and rubs at the spot with a handkerchief to dry it.

“Apologies again, my Lady,” he says with a frown, examining the spot for any remaining blood. Then he stands and they’re face to face, the few inches of pedestal putting their eyes at the same height. “I hope this doesn’t make you think any less of my skills as a tailor.” She briefly wonders what other skills he might possess before banishing the thought from her head. 

“Not at all, er,” she falters, realizing she never asked his name, which is unlike her, she usually tries to learn the names of all of the people she contracts to work for her.

“Astarion,” he says with a bow.

“Astarion, yes,” she repeats breathlessly. “Well, Astarion, you came to my aid in a time of desperation, and I suppose there was a blood price to be paid.” He lets out a startled laugh, clearly not expecting her to make such a joke.

“That’s very clever, Lady Estelle,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “You were a pleasure to have on my fitting platform, I do hope to see you again soon. At least to make up for my absolute buffoonery.” He’s back to the confidently poised man who first greeted her when she entered the shop, and he plants another light kiss on the back of her hand. 

“I assure you, the pleasure was all mine,” Estelle murmurs, almost hoping that he doesn’t hear her. “Oh, and Astarion?”

“Yes, my Lady?”

“Please. Call me Stella.

***

Several tenday have passed since Stella’s first meeting with Astarion, and she had visited his shop nearly every evening. It didn’t take long for her to admit her feelings; she couldn’t hide them even if she wanted to. Even when Astarion confessed his status as a vampire spawn, she wasn’t deterred. If anything, it aroused her all the more. Something happens to Astarion when he drinks her blood. The humble and subservient tailor disappears, and in his place is a self-assured and dominant man. Stella is more than happy to relinquish control over to him. She’s responsible for so much during the day, making decisions, telling people what to do, so there’s an appeal to having someone else take that role for once. 

The moment she walks into the shop she’s met with the graceful gentleman. No matter how many times she sees him, that wicked smile sets a small ember in her belly that quickly spreads. Each point of contact lights on fire despite his chilled skin. A spark in her fingers as he pulls her forward, a flame on her cheek as he strokes it gently. In an instant he shuts the door and flips around the open sign. With the darkened windows and the door now closed, they’re plunged into semi-darkness and Stella feels a chill go up her spine.

Astarion wastes no time in pushing her against the door and kissing her deeply. He presses his body up against hers and she gasps into his kiss as he pulls her in closer by her waist. He slides his knee between her legs and she lets out a whimper. Astarion chuckles in her ear.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he coos, lifting her slightly with his knee putting a delicious pressure on her mound. She clutches the back of his neck and hair, wrapping her leg around him to get even closer. He hikes up her skirt to her waist and scoops her up so both of her legs grip his midsection. Keeping his lips locked on hers as she continues to devour him, he carries her through the shop and to one of the adjacent rooms where there’s a bed and two untouched glasses of wine sitting on a side table. The tailor’s quarters. 

He throws her down on the bed and she looks up at him, cheeks and lips flushed, eyes glowing. Her typically neatly coiffed hair is mussed and strands splay out beneath her head like a halo. Astarion straddles her waist, pinning her in place, as he strokes her face.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathes, looking down at her with heavy lidded eyes. She grabs his shirt and pulls him in close.

“You know what I want,” she smirks, gaze flickering between his eyes and lips. He laces his fingers through her tousled hair and gently grazes his fangs over her neck, eliciting a sharp gasp.

“And you know I like to hear it,” he murmurs into her neck, and another full-body shiver goes through Stella. His breath feels chilling against her warm neck, blood pumping eagerly through her arteries. She grabs his face and forces him to look her in the eye – the last bit of control she has before she cedes it completely.

“Astarion,” she says slowly, measured and teasing, “I would enjoy it very much if you bit my neck, drank my blood, and then had your fucking way with me.” He chuckles darkly.

“Well,” he grins, a mischievous glint in his eye, “since you asked so nicely.” Stella lets out a moan as his fangs sink into her skin, the piercing pain soon giving way to a throbbing ache. His lips close around the wound, drinking in her delicious warmth, leaving her feeling blissfully lightheaded. She hums with pleasure as she curls her fingers into his silvery locks, hips unconsciously rolling into his, hungry for more contact. She can feel him growing stronger as her blood flows into him, his thighs tightly gripping her hips, keeping her locked into place. 

Astarion pulls away from her before going too far and Stella lets out a small whine at the loss of contact. He’s out of breath, chest heaving as he licks the last of her blood from his lips. He presses two fingers to the wound on her neck to stanch the bleeding as she looks up at him, pupils blown wide with lust. Once he can feel that the blood is no longer flowing freely, he takes his fingers away and hovers them centimeters above Stella’s lips.

“Open,” he commands, and she dutifully obeys. She takes his fingers into her mouth and sucks on them lasciviously, the metallic taste of her own blood filling her mouth. It’s one thing to prick her finger and to suck on it to make the bleeding stop. It’s quite another to lap her blood of Astarion’s fingers, languishing in the vulgarity of the taboo. She yearns to hear his breath hitch as she works her tongue over their length. 

He slides his fingers out of her mouth and grabs her chin, reversing the roles from moments before. He examines her face, turning it this way and that, like he’s inspecting a prized golden retriever at a dog show. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he lets out in a low tone. “Trapped underneath me, open and wanton, ready to let me do whatever I want with you. To you,” he adds on with an impish grin, and Stella squirms with anticipation. He swings a leg over her and stands by the edge of the bed, towering over her.

“Up now, on your knees,” he instructs and she scrambles to sit on her knees, still looking up at Astarion with lust-filled eyes. He reaches behind her and fully releases her hair from its loose braid letting it fall down the length of her back. He runs his fingers through her hair, humming as he does, “Good girl.” Her chest swells with the intake of breath as she leans into his touch even more.

“Undress. Quickly,” he demands. Her skirt is already up around her waist so she peels the rest of her dress off in a fluid motion. The corset provides a little more resistance, but even with fumbling fingers she manages to untie the laces and undo the hooks, letting it fall behind her. The sudden exposure to air makes her nipples go hard. Astarion smirks and cups one of her breasts in his hand, stroking her tit with his thumb. Stella bites back a cry.

“Shh shh shh. Not a sound,” Astarion whispers as he puts his lips close to her ear, continuing to fondle her. “I don’t want to hear you make a single noise, understood? Not until I say so.” He pulls away and locks his crimson eyes on her brown ones. Stella trembles, but nods silently.

“Good,” he breathes and slides her forward so that she’s sitting on the edge of the bed with her toes lightly touching the floor. He then lowers himself to one knee between her legs. He kisses up her thigh until he reaches her panties. He looks up at her mischievously as he hooks a finger in either side of the waistband, and he slips them off in a single fluid motion. Stella shudders with anticipation for what he plans to do next. 

Astarion parts her legs and she can feel the cool air on the slickness between her thighs. He leans forward and takes her nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue lightly over the tip. She takes in a shaky breath, but she manages to keep any noise she might want to make under wraps. He looks up at her while continuing to work his tongue. She clenches the sheets as jolts of white hot electricity shoot through her body. He pushes her legs apart even further and leans in, the ties from his frilled shirt lightly brushing against her folds. She gasps and shifts her pelvis, simultaneously trying to get less and more contact. He grabs her waist forcefully to hold it in place. He snakes his way up so that they’re face to face, lips a hair’s breadth apart.

“Ah ah, no moving either. Are you going to be good for me? Will you be silent like I’ve asked?” he says in a light, sing-songy tone. Stella keeps her lips clamped together as she nods.

“And what will you give me if you can’t obey?” he purrs, brushing his lips against hers as he runs a thin, cool finger along her slit. 

“Ah-anything,” Stella moans, turning her pleasure sound into a response. Astarion lets a smug grin play on his lips.

“Either way, I’ll get what I want,” he intones, and mercifully pulls his face away from hers. She releases a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. But it’s still only the beginning.

He lowers himself onto both knees and places a delicate kiss on her labia. She squirms but remains silent.

“My, you could drown a small army down here,” he says with an amused smile, and Stella just continues to breathe heavily, her chest rising and falling as she gazes down at the head of white curls between her legs. He runs the tip of his tongue along her folds, hands pushing out on her thighs slightly as he does. As he parts her legs further he exposes more of her, letting his tongue explore the newly uncovered skin. A cry catches in Stella’s throat and she slaps a hand over her mouth. His scorching gaze fixes on her and she lets herself fall back on the bed. If she watches she’ll be done for. Then again, not being able to anticipate his next move might be even worse.

Not being one to let her escape his torment, Astarion grabs Stella beneath the legs and yanks her toward him, letting her legs fall onto his shoulders as he continues to lap up her sweetness. She chokes down a whine, her breath quickening as she desperately tries to control herself. His tongue plunges into her and she bites into her hand with a hiss. With her pelvis rolled up so that he can get the best angle, he continues fucking her with his tongue, getting deep enough that the tips of his fangs press into her ever so lightly. 

That’s what sets her over the edge. The smallest pinprick of pain along with all of the filthy things he’s doing to her with his tongue tears a scream from her throat, muffled by her hand. He stops and stands over her, backlit by the low lighting, her wetness reflecting off his devilish smile. He then grabs her by the throat, not enough to constrict her breathing, but just enough to pull her face up to his.

“What was that, my sweet?” he growls dangerously. 

“N-nothing,” Stella stammers out, but Astarion just smiles.

“I don’t think it was ‘nothing,’ darling,” he breathes, acid in his voice. “I was very explicit in my instructions, was I not?” His hand tightens around Stella’s throat and she lets out a choked sound. It’s not a sound she usually makes. Astarion pulls his hand back slightly, concern creeping into his eyes. Stella looks up at him and nods.

Keep going.

They have a safe word for a reason, but if anything unexpected happens, Astarion still prefers to check in. He’s mentioned before that sometimes he’s worried that he’ll lose control, especially right after drinking her blood.

Stella finds the danger absolutely thrilling, but wants him to feel just as safe as she does.

Astarion drops her throat and pushes her down so her back is flat against the bed. Still between her legs, he pushes his pelvis against hers, pinning her wrists above her head. He’s still fully clothed, and the leather of his pants feels deliciously cool against her wet pussy. He puts one knee up on the bed, pushing her right leg up higher and spreading her even further. As unphased and indifferent as he seems, Stella can still feel his erection pressing into her, and she shifts to feel it more.

“You said you’d give me anything if you failed, correct?” he murmurs against her lips. 

“Yes,” the word escapes on a breath.

“Then hold still.” Astarion stands and the sudden loss of all contact elicits a small whine from Stella. He flashes her a playful smirk as he walks over to the bedside table and pulls out two long strips of cloth. He climbs on top of Stella again, straddling her hips and squeezing lightly with his thighs.

“Wrists, please,” he commands almost nonchalantly. Stella immediately puts her wrists together and holds them out to Astarion.

“Good girl,” he coos and the praise makes her lightheaded. He tenderly wraps her wrists up in the silk cloth, making sure it's tight enough to prevent escape but not enough to cause any lasting damage. He then takes the other strip of cloth, a sturdier cotton broadcloth, and holds it to her lips. He ties it tightly behind her neck, keeping her from being able to open her mouth at all.

“Since you can’t control yourself enough to stay quiet,” he purrs, low and dangerous, “maybe this will do it for you. And I think,” he stands and walks over to the bed stand. He looks over his shoulder and orders in an apathetic tone, “Up dear.” She scrambles to her knees, wrists falling limply in her lap. He continues, “I think you need one more thing to remind you to whom you belong.” He pulls out a fine leather collar with a silver O-ring in the middle. Stella’s excitement mingles with genuine admiration for the craftsmanship. He turns around and lovingly closes it around her neck. He then slips one slender finger through the ring and pulls it up so her head is tilted toward him.

“How does that feel, good?” he asks lightly, and she nods, still desperate to please. He lets go of the collar and strokes her jaw. “Good,” he breathes, and she can see the self-control in his eyes. He wants to fuck her just as much as she wants him to, and it’s taking everything in his power to hold out. He leans into her lips as though he’s about to kiss her but stops just short of making contact. 

“Now, before I decide precisely what I want to do with you,” he hums into her lips, “I want to make sure you can still tell me if I need to stop or slow down. If it ever becomes too much, I want you to snap your fingers, understood? Show me now.” Astarion keeps his lips achingly close to hers, but she does as he says. When he hears her snap, he grabs her face in his hands and kisses her roughly, sliding a dastardly knee between her legs once again. She longs to reach for him but keeps her bound wrists dutifully in her lap as his lips continue their assault on hers. 

Once he breaks the kiss, he remains close and slides his hands behind her head and into her hair. “Good girl,” the words rumble low in his throat and Stella is grateful for the cloth that muffles the obscene noise she makes. He steps away and she’s finally able to see all of him as he pulls off the tunic, revealing his porcelain chest. She yearns to run her fingers along it, tracing the outlines of his muscles, but instead she just grabs a fistful of sheets beneath her hands. He pulls down his trousers, letting his already hardened cock free, and her pussy twitches in anticipation. 

Astarion saunters back up to her and touches the front of her gag where a small wet spot is forming with her desire for him. He smirks and pulls her face down to his cock, running the tip of it along the broadcloth. She can feel it brush against her lips, and she again moans in anticipation. 

“Don’t you wish you could take me in your mouth?” he breathes, and Stella presses her tongue against the inside of the gag, trying to make even minimal contact. He laughs cruelly. “Gods, you’re desperate,” he scoffs. “It’s a shame, because if you had been able to follow my instructions, I may have even let you ride me on top.” He pushes the tip of his dick into the gag one more time before pulling away, leaving Stella to squirm achingly. 

“But instead,” he forcefully pushes her back so that she’s once again lying on the bed with her legs spread open for him. He crawls on top of her and teases her opening with his tip. She mewls in desperation. “You’ll have to contend with me doing whatever I want to this beautiful body of yours. I can slide in,” and he pushes into her, wrenching a gasp and whine from her mouth, before pulling out and letting his tip tease her again, “and pull out on a whim. You said I could do whatever I want.”

Stella is beside herself with lust. Unable to move her hands, she writhes her pelvis, trying to get even the slightest bit of contact. Her pussy is starting to burn from the pent up desire and she’s genuinely unsure of how much longer she can last like this. Astarion grins widely and his fangs sparkle in the low lighting. 

“Shall I give you what you want, darling? What you so fiercely crave?” His slick tip is still dancing around her cunt and tears are starting to form in her eyes as she nods. He thrusts into her again and rips the cloth from her lips before whispering sharply into her ear.

“Then I want to hear it all,” he hisses. “I want you screaming my name as I fuck you.” With his permission, she cries out, all of her stifled energy finally releasing.

“Oh gods, Astarion, fuck me please,” the words spill from her mouth uncontrollably. He starts pounding into her and she knows after all that time teasing her, she won’t last long. The heat of him sliding in and out, the stretch with each thrust, fills her with a fire that threatens to turn into an explosion. 

“Fuck, Astarion, please,” she whines, moments away from climax. She wraps her legs around his waist to get him in deeper, and now it’s his turn to let out a low moan. He continues to slam into her, the sounds of their mutual pleasure mounting.

“Look at me,” he growls, and she struggles to keep her gaze locked onto his crimson eyes. He looks so beautiful above her, silvery hair getting slick with sweat, panting as he continues his smooth rhythm. She can feel her orgasm building as her cries grow louder. He knows she’s close, too, and once again he flashes a fang-bearing smile.

“Come for me, darling,” he groans, and that sends her toppling over the edge.

“Gods, Astarion, yes!” she screams as she comes, and his follows shortly after. With a final thrust, he releases into her, his cock pulsing exquisitely. He looks down at her with an uncharacteristically shy smile and kisses her as he pulls out.

Both of them are out of breath as he collapses onto the bed next to her. Stella’s limbs feel light as though she just downed an entire bottle of dream mist. She rolls onto her side to look at Astarion, who appears to be equally intoxicated. Without a word she holds her wrists up, and he laughs lightly.

“Ah, yes, you might want those back,” he croons, and uses his teeth to pull out the knot, and the silk falls away in one fluid motion. Her hands are so close to his face that she cups his chin gently, just content to look at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, and he turns a kiss into her palm. 

“I could say the same thing,” he purrs as he looks up at her through his lashes. “Tea?” He pulls up the plush blanket that had been folded neatly at the end of the bed and wraps it around Stella’s shoulders. She snuggles into it and pulls it closed around her, then nods. He plants a quick kiss on her forehead and walks over to fill the kettle hanging above the hearth. Stella admires his silhouette, backlit by the light of the fire. He’s lithe and sinewy, his sculpted muscles built for dexterity more than strength. Her eyes rake over his broad shoulders, the dip of his lower back, the curve of his bare ass. He turns his head to look at her over his shoulder.

“Yes?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Nothing,” she hums, “just enjoying the view.” He smiles as he leans over the blanket cocoon she’s swathed herself in and kisses her lips softly, gently. He’s always particularly tender with her after a session like that, and Stella is grateful for it. She loves being able to see both of these sides of Astarion. The affable tailor eager to serve, and the dangerous dom claiming his power. Her fingers lightly dance on the collar he put on her. She likes the idea of belonging to him. A pity she couldn’t wear something as conspicuous as a leather collar in her daily life.

Astarion returns with a steaming mug, and as though reading her mind, pulls a long jewelry box from the drawer of the bedside table. 

“A companion piece to your collar, if you so wish,” he says in explanation. “You’re under no obligation to wear it, of course, but I thought you might like a little reminder of me everywhere you go.” She opens the box and nestled in the satin is a delicate silver chain with a small ring in the center. Her jaw drops slightly as she marvels at its beauty.

“Astarion, how did you–?” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“It pays to be a well-connected artisan, darling,” he says with a shrug. 

“Will you put it on me?” Stella asks in a light voice, and he looks delighted. She lifts up her hair so that he can unclasp the leather collar and replace it with the silver necklace. His fingers brush against her neck, lingering on the puncture mark he left earlier.

“Although perhaps you might want to sport high-collared dresses for a bit,” he admits with an apologetic grin. Stella turns and kisses him, cupping his face and gently running her thumb along his jaw.

“Well thank the gods I have a tailor who can make me new gowns in all the latest fashions,” she smirks. He climbs on top of her to kiss her more deeply, their naked bodies touching in a way that’s intimate, but not sexual. She could melt into his flesh, his kiss, his breath, and never want to change a thing.

[zzzykiek]

Play it Sweet

2PAlastor x Diabetc human Fem!reader

This chapter dives into the NSFW zone at the end so Minors DNI you've been warned.

CW: toxic work environment, creepy boss, anxiety, p in v sex, cunnilingus (just a smidge). 

*Please give credit when reposting*

Thanks and enjoy!

2P Alastor credit - https://anic-mj.tumblr.com/post/627521842542936064/2palastorblueberry/amp 

Chapter 3 —-- In Control

His tears are pouring over your shoulder. “Al?” You gently rub his back. He reaches into his pocket and procures another yellow pill. (Are these anti anxiety meds?) He steps back and throws the pill down his throat. He takes a deep breath and you gently swipe a tissue over his cheeks. 

“Th-th-thank you. I k-k-kept up the act a bit longer than p-p-planned.” 

“Well you did a fantastic job!” Your turn to plant a kiss on him though you have to half-jump to reach. The smile it brings from him is so adorable you can actually feel your eyes dilate. “How can a demon be so adorable…” you definitely didn't mean to say that out loud but there it came, out with your breath. Before you could process anything from that blunder you���re in Al’s arms, legs wrapped around his waist, as his forehead sits against yours blue bangs tickling your temples.

“I’m a-d-d-dorable huh?” He laughs and twirls you around. (Holy cow, he is strong!) “We should head out, my sunshine.” His voice purrs that new nickname and you melt into an embrace as he lets you slide down his frame to be standing on the floor. You look at him and giggle, both of you have the goofiest looks on your faces. His smile grows suddenly “Oh! and don't think I missed you mentioning having a recording studio. This I must see!”

“Well then let's go. I seem to remember you mentioning some blueberry pancakes.” 

“Th-that I did!” 

You lead him out to your car and cringe at the state of it. Random books, games, and antiques you had planned to restore. “Sorry, I wasn't planning on hosting a guest… I promise my place is clean.” You hear the door and see Al plop into the passenger seat with bright eyes turning over an old radio in his hands. (He likes radios? His voice did sound like one at first.) You hop in and start up the car before acknowledging his interest. 

“I rescued that beauty from an old thrift store. Poor thing needs some TLC. Sadly when I got it Boss decided to add work hours with my promotion, so it got stuck in limbo…” 

“TLC?” 

“Oh, it stands for Tender, Love, and Care. I restore antique things I like. If you like that you are going to love the ones in my studio.”

“You’re perfect.” Now it was his turn to accidently slip a thought out with his breath. You both chuckle and the remainder of the car ride goes by in a wave of blushes, glances, giggles. You finally reach your little cottage and Al follows you inside, still clutching the radio. You do a little spin in the living room of your small abode. 

“Here we are! I gave up having a typical bedroom so I could bring my studio to life….” You say glancing at the haphazardly made futon around the corner. “...but this is what you wanted to see!” You throw a door open and let the back lights illuminate the perfect merriment of restored and new recording technology creating an impressive switchboard. Bookcases filled with restored radios, cameras, and phones. Al’s eyes are wide and with a flash of green light he returns to the blue deer figure you met hiding under a table. You lean against the switchboard and flick a switch bringing the tape reels and record player to life. 

“So did you know I liked radio, or is that also your thing? Judging from your reaction I'd say you have a thing for broadcasting too.”

“Y-y-yes my sunshine, I am known as The….” He summons a blue cane with a microphone atop it and twirls it with a flourish and finishes it with a bow. “The Radio Demon.”

“Well Mr. Radio Demon, can I assume you dance?” You flick a switch and the room fills with your favorite electro swing mix. 

Al tightens his grip on the microphone, then it disappears as he offers his hand to you. You accept and are immediately pulled into the best dance of your life. (Not that you had many other dances under your belt, and definitely the only one who could actually dance to your music.) All timid nature is gone as Al spins you around, leading you in perfect time to the music, and even lifts you above his head. 

You’re nose to nose as the song ends, both of you breathing heavily, and in the same heartbeat, his hand is behind your head and your fingers are gripping his collar while your lips explore his. (How do our lips fit so perfectly together…?) You sigh into the feeling and he mewls in response gently flicking his tongue against your lower lip. You allow access and he gently moans at the feeling of the deeper kiss. He is holding onto you so tight, like you would run away if he let go. You let your hands explore his hair, confirming your suspicions of his ears being sensitive as he melts onto his knees at the first light touch. He breaks away the kiss and looks slightly sad for a moment as he gently unzippers your dress. You laugh remembering that for some reason you chose blue undergarments that day. (I guess that was fate.) His eyes glow as he admires this little surprise. Quickly fumbling with the buttons on his coat, starting to shake again. 

“No-no-no, I need to be in control for this…. First t-t-time, I don't want to scare you off.”

He goes to grab another yellow pill and you catch his hand gently.

“What if I don't want you in control?” You look him in the eyes. 

“P-p-please, I want to b-b-be.” 

The look he gives you tells you how important it is to him so you let him down the pill and help undo his buttons while he takes a deep breath. You make it through all the buttons (Three layers is a lot of fucking buttons.), and pull his upper vestments off. As you touch his chest you're surprised to feel soft fur, as pale as his skin. You run your fingers through it letting out a deep contented sigh.  He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. Grabbing your wrist, he begins planting small kisses along your arm until he reaches your lips again where he dives back in. His kisses are desperate and sloppy, gently suckling your lip as he backs off just long enough for a breath. He begins rutting his hips and soft moans escape him each time he makes contact against you. His sounds alone send a surge of warm arousal straight to your core, only to be combated by the tingle of his clothed erection hitting your clit, making it your turn to moan. 

You gently push him up as you fuss with his belt and pants, letting them drop revealing more soft almost white fur and the slightly darker toned skin surrounding his cock. (Oh shit is that going to fit…?) 

“I p-p-promise to be gentle.” (Ok can he read my mind? I am starting to wonder now.) 

He kisses you again with a bright red flush on his pale cheeks. You feel him position himself and slide his tip up along your slit, moaning at how slick you are. (Holy shit, I've never been this turned on by anyone before.)

“Y-y-ou really want me?” He breathes the question in between kisses. All you can do is nod, so kiss drunk at this point that you knew he could get anything out of you he wanted. (I guess I gave him everything already though huh…?) You feel pressure at your entrance as he gently begins pushing in. You whimper at the sensation. (Fuck it's been way to long, and he is so big!) You hiss in a breath and his kisses become lighter as he coos reassurance between each one. Running a hand through your hair, he murmurs, “It’s okay,” and, “I got you,” followed by, “Hold on to me.”

When he says that, you let your hands fall to his arms and squeeze, digging your nails into biceps. He groans in pleasure as his pelvis presses flush against you. (Was that from my nails or him bottoming out?) His breath becomes deep and animalistic with tiny sounds of pleasure escaping as he gently pulls back.

“I'll mold you to me.” His voice is still soft, but there's a spice to it, and you feel static dance on your skin. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and you loosen your grip on his arms to entangle your fingers in his hair as he carefully pushes all the way back inside. Your eyes go wide as he hits a spot you never experienced before. (Now I understand the whole seeing stars thing.) 

“Al,” his name tumbles from you as he picks up his pace.

A soft yet guttural moan escapes him with every thrust, contrasting your uncontrollable squeaks as he hits that spot over and over, never letting you get a full scream of pleasure out before he is hitting it again. Your eyes go wide as he places his forehead against yours. You’re so close and as he looks into your eyes you realize so is he. 

“Cum with me, my sunshine.” He purrs, locking your lips together again as your mind goes blank with pleasure. Every muscle in your body pulses almost in time with his. You can feel, as he slows his motions, the warmth left behind from his own orgasm, with no way to tell what of the mess now coating your thighs is from him and what was from you. 

Before you even recover, he dips his head down between your legs.  He begins licking up the mess running down your swollen pussy. This elicits a gasp from you and an animalistic moan from him as he greedily takes in all the juices he can get to, going so far as to use his finger to get more from inside your overly sensitive hole. 

Your brain and body come down from their high enough for you to form a few thoughts. (I just fucked a literal demon…. That's new…. I am totally fucked.) You can’t help but giggle at your own ideas. Your movement breaks Al from his dessert between your legs. He wipes his mouth quickly as he pulls you up into an embrace, both of you kneeling on the floor in the middle of your studio. “Are you o-o-k?” He asks then. “D-d-did I hurt you?”

You snuggle into the soft fur of his chest. “No Al, not at all.” You feel him relax and hold you closer to him. (Drowning in soft fur isn't a bad way to go right?) 

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur of kisses, cuddles, and conversation. His cute little stutter comes and goes as he talks. You spend hours talking to Al about radios, music, your broadcasts, books… you've never been able to speak this easily with someone. Eventually everyone gets bored or annoyed, but not Al; he is fully engaged and just as excited as you. The more excited he is, the less he stutters. He even shares some first-hand things about some of your restored items you could have never discovered on your own. Eventually (Way too late for a work night.), you fall asleep on his heavenly soft chest. 

[notgonnaedit]

Given to Fly

One Shall Fall

Summary: Martha "Marty" Thorne was a basic teenager, a little antisocial maybe. But her life changed the day she met the Autobots and joined them in their fight.

Pairing: Optimius x Teen!OFC (Platonic)

Chapter summary: An injury takes precedence.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, injury, flat line things going off, medical emergency, (If I miss a tag LMK)

Updates are sporadic. If you want to be tagged LMK

@dreamsight73

Master list

"And it was written in the covenant of Primus that when the 47 spheres align, a perpetual conflict will culminate upon a world forged from chaos, and the weak shall perish in the shadow of a rising darkness." Optimus stared at the computer screen, reciting an old prophecy he had read a long time ago. "No skies raining fire?" Arcee asked. "Goes without saying," Ratchet added. "It is a doom prophecy, after all."

"I say it's a load of hooey," Bulkhead huffed.

Ratchet turned to look at him. "I'd always assumed the ancients were referring to our home planet, but being that Cybertron has been dark for eons..."

"And considering what has befallen this planet since Megatron's arrival here..." Optimus trailed off, letting his suspicions speak for themselves.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Bulkhead said. "We've known about these superstitions for ages and never gave them a second thought."

Arcee nodded. "Why all the ominous rumblings now?"

"Because the planetary alignment to which the prophecy refers is nearly upon us," Optimus answered.

"And it would seem its end point...Is Earth," Ratchet deduced.

Bulkhead chuckled nervously. "Uh...Crazy coincidence, heh, r-right?"

"How long are we talking?" Arcee asked.

Ratchet hummed. "A few days at most."

Optimus furrowed his brow. "However unsettling this revelation may be, I am more concerned about those who might believe that the prophecy speaks to them alone."

A chill passed through the base. The Autobots knew he was referring to Megatron, the Dark Lord of the Cons.

                        )()()()()(

"Pass," Jack said as Raf scrolled through a series of photos dedicated to finding aliens. "Kid in a costume. Balloon. Nope. Uh, hold," he stopped short when there was an image of a yellow and black muscle car without a driver.

Marty chuckled as she leaned on the back of the couch behind Raf. "The camera sure loves Bee."

"What can you do?" Miko asked. "When you're a superstar, you're paparazzi bait."

"Wait. Is that Bumblebee?" Ratchet asked worriedly.

Raf adjusted his glasses. "On a conspiracy website where users post evidence of close encounters. But we have it under control, Ratchet." 

The boy deleted the image and moved a new file to take its place. "We just scrub and replace Bee with..." He trailed off as a little cat in an astronaut's suit danced.

"Mars cat says, ‘take me to your feeder’."

"Ha ha!" A laugh came from the medic's direction.

Shocked stares covered the faces of the kids. 

"Ratchet actually laughed?" Miko asked.

The medic in question pressed his lips together as if surprised at them for letting joy escape.

Jack chuckled before turning to the tallest Bot. "Um, Optimus, do you want to see something funny?"

"No," the Prime answered bluntly without looking at them.

Martha chuckled. "Heheh."

"Don't take it personally," Arcee told her ward. "Primes are built that way."

"Never seen Optimus laugh, cry, or lose his cool," Bulkhead added.

"While Optimus certainly keeps his emotions in check," said Ratchet, "I've known him far longer than any of you have, and he was different before he was made a Prime."

This had Marty's attention. "Optimus wasn't always a Prime?"

"On Cybertron, one isn't born into greatness. Rather, one must earn it."

Miko raised a brow. "So, different how? We talkin’ party animal?" She wiggled for emphasis.

Marty groaned and rubbed her hands under glasses. "Thank you, Miko, for that image."

Ratchet hummed. "No, no. Optimus was more like... Martha."

The brunette snapped her head up. "There's no way I'm like Opti–"

"Prime!" Fowler's voice cut her off. "Those techites my department's been tracking – We figured it was MECH on account of the stealth tactics until moments ago when a security feed at the Pennington ebbs particle collider captured this–"

The screen flashed to an image of a faceless Cybertronian.

"Soundwave," Jack noted as they walked over.

"Raf can swap that out for you with a funny cat," Miko offered.

"The Con without a face made off with a cutting-edge phase conductor. Here's a punch list of everything else we've confirmed stolen to date."

"Plasma injector, neutron shield, tesseract?" Ratchet read off the list, surprise lacing his tone with each item. "There's only one thing missing if they are intending to build a space bridge."

                       )()()()()(

It was evening when Fowler called again, this time from a helicopter. "Prime, the 'Cons really stepped in it this time. They hit a U.S. military lab. Our boys in green will fend them off till your team shows."

"Agent Fowler, I fear that Megatron's desperation may be at its zenith, and you know that I cannot condone even a single human casualty," Optimus reminded the agent.

Fowler sighed and called off the troops as Ratchet readied the bridge. Bumblebee and Raf were not present, probably out racing for fun.

The medic commed the scout. "Bumblebee, the team may require backup. They are three clicks north from your current position, just off the highway. If you drop Raf at the exit ramp, I can bridge him back to base from there."

It wasn't ten minutes later that Optimus' voice came through the comm. He sounded panicked, almost. "Ratchet, bridge us back now!" "We must have an Autobot down," Ratchet figured.

Marty furrowed her brow, exchanging glances with Miko and Jack. As the portal activated, two figures walked through. Bumblebee, his door wings hanging dejectedly, and Arcee, cradling something in her arms like a baby. 

Marty looked at it closer. "Raf??"

"No!" Miko cried.

Ratchet rushed over to them. "What happened?"

"Megatron," Arcee snarled.

Ratchet's eyes widened. "Quickly, into my laboratory."

The kids rushed down the stairs as Arcee set the boy on a cot.

"Martha!" Ratchet barked. "I need your hands. Slid the IV into his veins."

The brunette nodded and took the needle, gently sliding it under Raf's skin. Her hands were steadier than she felt.

"Rafael isn't responding." Ratchet worried from the computer. "We must run diagnostics of his assemblage –eh, vital statistics. Oh, my tools –they're all wrong!" He threw them to the ground.

"We need to call my mom," Jack said, already dialing her number.

"Your mother may be a nurse, but does she know anything about the effects of Energon on the human body?" Ratchet asked.

Jack reeled on him. "Wh– do you know anything about the human body?" He turned away. "Mom, it's urgent!"

The medic looked down at the boy. He was pale, and his eyes had dark circles under them.

"‘The weak will perish‘," he muttered. "Be strong, Rafael."

It wasn't long before June came driving through the ground bridge. She parked in the middle of the base.

Jack ran over to her. "Mom, thank–"

"Grab my bag!" She ordered, already halfway over to Raf. She Immediately checked his pulse and breathing, her expression serious.

"Measuring the extent of the absorption should determine the proper course of treatment," Ratchet told her.

June glared up at him. "If I don't get this boy stabilized now, he will not leave this table alive. Do you understand me?!"

An angry buzz, followed by a loud bang! sounded. Bumblebee's fist was in the wall.

Arcee surged forward and pinned him against the wall. "Bee, listen. You think I don't know how it feels to watch a partner... Harmed? Revenge won't help Raf right now. You need to keep your emotions in check."

Marty looked away from the yellow Bot to glance at his sick ward.

Then she heard her own guardian over the comm talking to Ratchet. "Pull yourself together, old friend. Rafael needs you."

"And I have grown to need him," the medic admitted.

"Lock on to my coordinates and activate the ground bridge," the Prime ordered.

"Jack, help me get Raf to the car. He's going to the emergency room," June decided, putting away her stethoscope.

Ratchet turned to her. "Nurse Darby, your doctors won't be able to comprehend what's afflicting him – not without a decade of study."

June waved him off. "I don't have time to argue."

The medic looked back at his monitor. "The effects of an Energon blast on an Autobot can be devastating enough, but this is a human." His eyes widened. "I'm not getting any readings." He gasped. "How could I not have seen this? Rafael's been infected with Dark Energon."

Marty's throat went dry. 

"I need Energon," Ratchet cried.

"Wait," June said. "You said Energon was devastating to humans."

"Under normal circumstances, quite. But I am relying upon the dark matter currently invading Rafael's body to meet it head on."

Bumblebee walked over to Ratchet and held out his arm. The medic nodded and room a syringe, sucking the Energon out of the scout.

Raf's monitor started beeped furiously.

"I need him over here now!" Ratchet shouted.

Jack and June rolled the cot over to the decontamination chamber. Once they exited, Ratchet worked quickly. The chamber began to glow brightly. Marty shielded her hazel eyes from the blinding light.

Once it was over, they ran back in. June took the boys hand, her fingers resting on his wrist. "Pulse rate is stabilizing."

The boy's eyes opened, slowly but surely. His chocolate hues settled on his guardian. "Bee," he croaked.

Marty sighed. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath. She turned back to Ratchet and gave him a small smile, but then she saw another figure.

When did Bulkhead get there. And where was Optimus??

"Bulkhead, you let Optimus face Megatron alone?" Arcee scolded.

"I didn't have a choice," Bulkhead explained.

Marty looked up at Ratchet worriedly. "It could be a trap."

"We need to get a fix on his location," he agreed. "I'm locked onto Optimus' signal." His eyes went wide. "Wait. How is this possible?"

"What? What is it??" Marty asked.

Ratchet whipped around. "We need to get Optimus out of there now!"

Previous

Next

[gottagho-st]

kissy prompt 32 withhhh lus and phantom 👀🤗

EEE okay here goes <3 definitely got longer than i intended but i hope you like it 🥹 they’re v precious to meeeeee

also if there’s any mistakes - no there’s not (i didn’t proofread this so my bad)

32. a kiss to wake up

slight cw: scars/mention of scars, but other than that it’s pretty much just fluffy morning ghouls :))

under the cut cause of length 🫶✨🦇

The warm caress of the morning sun flooding into her room was a gentle nudge awake, enough to tug her just towards consciousness, but not pull her entirely from the comforting haze of sleep. With a sigh, Cumulus rolled to her other side, attempting to tug the blankets further over her chest - but being met with resistance upon doing so. Her sleep-soaked brain took a moment to register that such a task would normally be done with ease, and once she realised her relaxed face scrunched into a slight frown. She tugs again, a little harder this time, and is met with the resistance once again. This time, though, it is accompanied by a grumpy ‘mrrrp’ from the ghoul curled into a ball on top of the blankets.

His hair is mussed from sleep, and his body continues to rise and fall in the gentle pattern of his breathing, a soft puff of air escaping from slightly parted lips on every exhale. Cumulus’ frown is wiped from her face the moment her eyes land on the pulsing lights across his lavender cheeks, replaced by a fond smile at her little bug who must have joined her for comfort during the night. He has an open invitation into her room whenever he likes, and she has always indicated that she’s happy for him to wake her - but clearly last night all he wanted was to be close.

Cumulus reaches a hand of manicured claws down to gently rake his hair away from his face, the disturbance causing him to shift - arms reaching out to stretch slightly and give her better access for head scratching. she leans in closer to nuzzle against him, soaking up some of his warmth, and starts a gentle purr. This is a perfect way to start her morning, if you ask her.

Phantom’s eyes remain close, still blissfully clingy to the thread of sleepiness, but he responds to her purr with a crackly attempt at his own. At this, Cumulus’ smile widens and she bends toward him to press a feather of a kiss onto his forehead. a quite chirp is her only response, so she continues - another kiss pressed against the scar slashing through his right eyebrow, again to the bridge of his nose. Mismatched eyes crack open to gaze up at her, and she continues with her worshipping lips, pressing devoted kisses to every scar and pulsing strike of lightning that dances across his cheeks. Her lips brush against the tip of his nose, and he tilts his head up in an attempt to get a proper kiss from her, whining when she just giggles and kisses his chin, and then along his jaw. Phantom squirms with impatience, making quiet but desperate noises to which Cumulus finally relents, pressing her full lips lovingly to his own, and holding for a breath. The kiss is short, but filled with her adoration and affection for her little Bug, and his purr amps up in response. He steals another kiss before she pulls away gently, still caressing the hair at the base of his neck.

“Goodmorning my little Lovebug” she whispers, and he giggles at the way her breath tickles his cheeks.

“‘mornin’ Lussy,” he smiles brightly up at her.

Yeah, this is certainly one of her favourite ways to wake up.

[whoblewboobear]

speaking of cute clothes have we discussed putting jace in a wedding dress yet

We haven’t but god to we need to 🤧 I’m gonna skip the proposal because I’ll spiral if I think about who proposed to who and how it happened and what sappy shit they said. Like it’ll destroy me.

So just imagine Jace laying in bed with Porter and going “I think I’m gonna wear a dress for our wedding.” And Porter is practically drooling at the thought. He’s so superstitious about things so he’ll try his best to avoid asking to go dress shopping with him but he wants to SO BAD. So instead, Jace gathers his bestie squad of Zara, Corsica, maybe Yolanda too for her insight. They do it up big, they’ve got champagne to sip on, hors d'oeuvres to eat and they’re giving Jace the yes’s and no’s of what works and what doesn’t when he finally steps out of the dressing room in THEE dress. He’s used to wearing flowy robes when he goes back to fallinel so I’d imagine he wears something in that camp. But also something sleek and elegant with gold details to match his eyes. He’s already pale, so he goes for a cream instead of a white so he doesn’t look completely washed out in photos. He would look incredible in anything that accentuates his waist. He also loves a v neck so I’m taking that into consideration too 🤧 A slip dress or a mermaid gown would suit him really well! Also something with a slit so he can show off his long legs (and easy access for Porter later if he chooses not to have a separate dress for the reception)

Pictures & thoughts under a read more bc long post:

1. Simple, elegant a little boring though. But I have to take you on a journey. We’ll get there I promise.

I think this is a dress that everyone (including Jace) would agree doesn’t have enough flare. He could over accessorize to compensate but that’s more hassle and more money when he could just find THEE dress. I also don’t think it would entirely flatter his shape and baby boy deserves to have a dress that fits so right in all the right places while emphasizing his best features (waist, chest, legs)

2. This gown is so gorgeous, so flowy! I love the lace on it and I think the deep v is elegant and tasteful while showing off his chest. The back- oh my god does he deserve a train. It’s perfect for a spring or fall wedding it’s dramatic but sweet. It reminds him of a lighter weight version of something he’d wear in Fallinel. He’d pair it with some really beautiful gold jewelry and to match the wedding bands he and Porter picked out for the ceremony.

3. This one just might be one of my favorites actually! Loooove the deep v that stops above the navel. LOVE. I also can’t get enough of the mesh with the beading the looks like it’s just floating on the skin. The train isn’t overly dramatic. It’s sweet, it’s tasteful. There’s no slit here but he doesn’t mind it. The back is what really sells it for me bc 1. I know Jace’s ass would look in-CREDIBLE in it and 2. Porter would tease Jace so much by running his fingers along his exposed back. They’d have to fight so hard not to sneak off somewhere to fuck. They’re so insufferable!

4. Now THIS is my drama pick. I- Jace would look incredible in this. He can move in it, he can dance in it. It’s BACKLESS. All of the detailing and the silks. The drapery at the top is also really really beautiful. I love the slit and the neckline like- it really looks made for him. It makes me wonder if he’d grow his hair out a little longer for the look so he can have beading and different things pinned to match. I also love that from the back it almost looks like a jumpsuit. It also feels very true to his character art for Junior Year with how he draped his scarf. It’s just.. I think it’s THEE dress. When he looks at himself in the mirror he tears up a bit. The thought of getting married didn’t quite feel real until he sees himself in this and just knows this is the one he wants to marry the love of his life in.