#wanna nibble on em

[petrichorium]

Pouty malleus is my everything I’m so serious

[heartandfangs]

just a heear appreciation post 🥺😮‍💨 iykyk

merry christmas beauties! 🤍🤍🤍

[seoulmatez]

more delicious rin thighs to keep me sane until the pxg match hnngghhh

[subbylittlepuppy]

✨Thighs✨

[vjonny2x4v]

Forever craving French fries

[nereidprinc3ss]

just like heaven

in which flirty!reader finally confesses her feelings to a pining spencer reid after a night out. she's slightly buzzed. it's complicated.

fluff (some angst) warnings/tags: fem!reader, reader drinks alcohol, dirty jokes, so much flirting and banter, some arguing kinda, but spencer is such a gentleman, everyone gets flustered at least once, they really wanna kiss, happy ending a/n: gif :D I hope u like this! not bandages reader but like same vibes. like an AU for my AU

“Emily!”

You drawl the ee sound long, the same way you reach across the table and wiggle your fingers at her half-empty glass. Thin dark brows dart up beneath that glossy sweep of reddish-black hair. 

“Oh, wow. That’s unsettling. What?”

It’s been at least an hour since you had a drink of your own, but enough alcohol is still flowing through your veins so as to render her offensive comment inoffensive. You love Emily. You love the Tequila Sunrise sweating onto the sticky table in front of her which she’s not going to finish. 

“I think she wants your drink,” JJ assists, cheek balanced tipsily on a propped up fist. 

“Uh…”

Emily’s doe-sweet eyes flash uncertainly behind you. 

“I’m basically sober,” you insist, laying your head on your outstretched arm and letting your hair cascade as you bat your lashes, offering her your sweetest smile. “Please, Em?”

It does not go according to plan. She scoffs. 

“Are you flirting with me right now?”

“... Would that work?”

“Oh my god, just… cool it with the fuck-me eyes,” she laughs. “You can have the drink.”

You sit up, turning just barely over your shoulder to address Spencer. 

“See? Emily buys me drinks. Basically.”

She slides the drink toward you, with a subtle roll of her eyes that you choose to interpret as affectionate under the dim canned lighting. As you sit back, content and free drink in hand, her eyes slide to Reid in the seat next to you, brows arching. 

“Are you sure you can handle her all on your own?”

“Handle me?” You frown deeply as Emily gathers her purse and slides out of the booth, followed shortly thereafter by JJ. “I don’t need handling.”

“Then why do you have a handler?” JJ teases.

You slump against the worn vinyl, stirring what is mostly orange juice. 

“He most definitely is not my handler. He’s my science project.”

“I got it,” Spencer assures your friends, with his trademark flattened smile. You can’t help but watch him with a grin of your own, flipping the straw in the drink and nibbling on the end until it’s stained sparkly pink. Goodbyes are issued, and soon it’s just the two of you. Perhaps it’s a tipsy delusion, but you think he seems to relax slightly when you’re alone. His eyes are easy on you. “You know, you’re not actually decreasing the amount of germ transmission by using the other end of the straw.”

“Mm… pretty sure alcohol kills germs, Doctor.”

At that, you giggle. 

Doctor. 

Soon you’re covering your face and having a full-fledged laugh attack. 

“What?” Spencer asks. From between your fingers you can see that he’s smiling guardedly, brows furrowed in a way that reminds you he’s often worried about being the butt of a joke and not knowing it. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you assure him quickly, gathering yourself. “I just… can’t believe you’re a doctor.”

“Why not? What’s so unbelievable about that?”

“You’re so young.”

And handsome. 

“I’m not that young. I’m older than you,” he defends. Only by a handful of years, but you know he’s defensive about his age after a lifetime of being told he looks young for—well, everything. 

“You’re… 32?”

That’s not right—you know as soon as you say it.

“Thirty three.” He very politely captures a hand—your hand—that had at some point ended up a little too close to his eye. You’re not sure what you planned to do once it got there—you don’t recall moving it at all. 

“Sorry.” You take your hand back, choosing to instead fiddle with a button on his coat ponderously. “33 is a good age.”

“Yeah?” Spencer laughs, angling his head as if to regard you from a new angle. It warms you all over. Burns in some places, like a shot of liquor down your throat. Makes you just as dizzy, too. “You have a lot of experience being thirty three?”

“No, I just…” your cheeks heat and you wrestle with a timid smile, averting your gaze and dropping your hand for fear his grin this close up might actually kill you. “I like 33 year old you.”

“So… you didn’t like me when I was thirty two?”

“Stop,” you beg, a self-effacing laugh into the cup of your palm. “I can’t banter. I’m not at peak performance.”

The truth of it hits you, and you sigh, folding your arms on the table and resting your cloudy head. Only then, from this new perspective, do you allow yourself to fully admire Spencer Reid. He is smiling at you, and your heart does skip a beat like you’ve got some school girl crush. These days he wears his hair falling over his face, messy on purpose, and always smells so nice. You wonder when he started caring about that stuff. You want to see what products are in his shower, and learn why he chose that cologne, or how he decides to pair his socks. He probably has some sort of algorithm. 

“Spencer,” you begin, the serious quality of your voice diminished by the smush of your cheek against your arm. Still, he tries to respect your tone, zipping the smile and answering with a playfully twitching brow. 

“Hm?”

You want to push the hair out of his face. Why is he looking down at you like that? Like he likes you?

“You’re a very good handler.”

His eyes narrow as he considers this, but the glimmer in them could still spark a forest fire. You’re probably grinning like an idiot. 

“Oh, I couldn’t handle you. You know this.”

You hum thoughtfully. 

“I bet you could. Wanna try?”

Spencer shakes his head, huffing a laugh through his nose. To his credit, your bold-face innuendos don’t always send him into a tailspin these days. 

Just sometimes. 

“You need a ride home, don’t you?”

You sit back up, stretching your arms out. 

“You don’t have to. I could get a cab.”

“I know,” he assures you, still a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. Why. Is. He. Looking. At. You. Like. That?

“Will you let me drive?”

“I would. But, you know, my affairs aren’t in order.”

You roll your eyes as he gets out of the booth and offers you a hand. 

“I’m not that drunk.”

Spencer just wiggles his fingers. 

“If you can recite the alphabet in reverse you can drive my car.”

You roll your eyes again. Obviously he’s fucking with you, because 1. He’d never let you drive even the slightest bit inebriated, and 2. He knows you can’t say your ABC’s backward when you’re dead sober. 

The truth is you’re more buzzed than anything. You could get up and walk fine without any assistance, but he’s offering you his hand, so you take it. After you’re standing, you wonder how many excuses could you possibly dream up to get it back in yours. Should you pretend to fall?

No. Not quite worth your self respect. 

“You know…” you muse, reveling in the brief brush of him against your back as he holds open the door for you, “it’s a good thing you didn’t become, like… a medical doctor.”

Now walking side by side on the street, he glances over at you, a poorly veiled smile on his perfect face. Like a trap door brushed over with a few leaves. He wants you to see it.

“Why’s that?”

A breeze ruffles your hair. The brisk cold and the walk seem to be making things crisper already. You shrug, bunching your sleeves in your hands against the increasingly frigid night. The skirt and tights you’d chosen were perfect for a stuffy dive bar. Not so much for an early DC spring. 

“Nobody wants a hot doctor.”

He looks down at the sidewalk, hands pocketed, but the curve of his lips doesn’t lessen.  

“Hm. You’re drunker than I thought.”

“What? No! I’m—barely!” Again he laughs at you, and again you flush, looking down and counting the cracks in the pavement as you journey slowly under the bath of yellow street lights. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you called me hot.” He sounds almost delighted as he grins sheepishly around the final word. 

You snort. You’ve said worse things, more graphic things within the past few hours alone—but you suppose they’ve all been more like dirty jokes than compliments. 

“Yeah. You think you aren’t?”

Sandy locks fall side to side as he carefully measures a response. His cologne is warm—sort of smoky. It’s very nice. He doesn’t seem like he’d wear cologne. Have you already thought about his cologne tonight? Once was probably enough. 

“I just think sober you wouldn’t have said that.”

“But don’t you prefer it when I’m aggressively flirting with you? I mean, I know I do it sober too, but it's not as good, right?”

A silent stretch begins and shortly ends, and you don’t mind it. Right now, everything is a winding path through the woods. You’re willing to follow any fork off the trail if it means spending more time with him. 

“I guess I wasn’t aware that was what you were doing.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you laugh, and it echoes through the canyon of a nearby alley, “I’m not subtle, Reid.”

“I don’t know! You—for all I know that’s just how you are! I mean, what did Emily call them earlier, your—your fuck-me eyes?”

Like he does when he’s flustered, he gets shrill and stuttery. It’s nice to be reminded that he’s still a complete dork on the inside—and the outside, too, as pink stains his cheeks like watercolor. You smirk at him in your periphery, watching him against the darkened city backdrop. 

“You noticed those, huh?”

“No,” he denies forcefully, but his brow is pinched like he doesn’t quite believe himself, “I mean, yes, I notice when you look at other people like that, but that’s not what I would call them—I wouldn’t call them anything, I’d just call them your eyes, you know? Not that you always look like you’re soliciting… the implication isn’t there, it’s just—I notice when you flirt with other people! With Emily, and Derek, like, not even half an hour ago. You’re lucky Hotch wasn’t there. You’d probably have given him a heart attack.”

“I’m more concerned with yours, to be honest.”

“My heart is fine,” he laughs. “Worry about my dignity.”

“Hm. I was going for both. Guess I’d better try harder.”

You don’t notice you’ve come to a stop until you’re face to face in front of his vintage Volvo. Spencer is standing closer than usual, hands perpetually stuck in that nice wool coat. He’s all windswept and pretty, smiling crookedly and eyes sparkly with humor. A strand of hair sticks to your lip gloss, and you brush it away, tucking it behind your ear and squinting up at him against the chilly breeze. The flush is either from the nip in the air or your brazen flirting. 

“Or, you could go easy on me. I’m frail. Like a… sickly Victorian child.”

Again his brow knits and he smiles like he knows what he’s said is ridiculous. But his tone is gentler now. Softer. Invites you to fall in deeper and see what you might find. 

“And ruin all my fun? Toughen up, Reid.”

For a long moment, you don’t get a response—only his eyes, soft and thoughtful on you, before you’re distracted by the sweet bow of his lips. If he notices you’re staring, it doesn’t seem to bother him. 

But something evidently does, as when he next speaks, it’s troubled. Curiosity straining against a rope that says maybe it’s better if I don’t ask. 

“Do… do you actually flirt with me? When you’re sober, I mean.”

He expects to be ridiculed. In his most vulnerable moments, he’s still bracing for rejection—turning his cheek slightly so he’s ready for the stinging blow. It opens a fissure in your chest. You frown, and speak gently. 

“Yeah, Spence. More than anyone else. You really don’t notice?”

Sometimes his face is so expressive, in the pull of his brow and tightening of his eyes and the way he wets his lips. But he probably doesn’t know that. And he can’t seem to meet your eyes, instead choosing to study the leather of your heeled boots. Sounds of late-night traffic, of tires on wet asphalt buffer the pauses between sentences. 

“I notice… when you talk to Derek and Emily and JJ and Penelope the exact same way you talk to me. I didn’t think…”

Another gap in conversation, filled with the chatter of some group pouring out of a bar somewhere. You realize he’ll need some gentle prompting to bridge it. 

“You didn’t think what?”

When his eyes flash back up to meet yours, you have a feeling like he’s shutting the pipes off. 

“It’s—uh—” he clears his throat— “it’s not important, we can—we’ll talk about it a different time. We should—”

“Wait.”

He’d been turning away but snaps right back to look at you as if on command, wearing a brand new face that tells you he’d like to wipe the past minute or so completely away. 

“Yeah?”

“Spencer. I wanna know what you were going to say.”

“I told you. It’s nothing.”

“You didn’t tell me. You mumbled evasively and walked away. We were in the middle of something and I want to know what you were going to say. Please?”

“Well, you’re drunk,” he finally sighs, and it’s a bit sharp. Stinging. 

“I am not drunk,” you defend, and it feels true, with a bitter cold lashing at your cheek and blood heightened from the walk. “You know I’m not too drunk to have a coherent conversation. Why are you being weird?”

“Because I asked you to drop it! We can’t have this conversation right now, all right? I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Your stomach flips, and your breath comes a little heavier. Spencer is clearly frustrated with you. Maybe being on the wrong end of this mild vexation, and so suddenly, should make you feel guilty, or some kind of bad—but all you feel is a sort of buzz in the tips of your fingers and the thrum of your heart, something deeper than excitement pooling in your veins at having inspired this sort of passion. It means he feels something. Something for you. 

“I’m sorry,” he tries halfheartedly, unable or more likely unwilling to stay angry at you for very long, “you didn’t—”

“What conversation?”

It’s jarring how quickly this has spun on its head. The very air you’re breathing seems to have changed. The metropolitan soundscape is a rife undercurrent of tension and louder from all the words unsaid. 

Finally he swallows. 

“There’s no conversation. I’m—it was a poor choice of wording. I just meant we should get you home.”

Before he can make it to the driver’s side door, you’re calling out. 

“You think I don’t like you. And I just flirt with you ‘cause I flirt with everyone.”

Spencer stops, and turns to face you once more, sighing and head dropped to one side like you’re doing something incredibly inconsiderate. He’s never looked at you like that before, but you don’t let it shake you. 

“That’s what this is about, right?”

He says your name, but you don’t let him get further than that. 

“No, I think there is a conversation here, and saying I’m not sober enough to have it isn’t fair and you should have said something before and I think you should just say it now.”

You’re pushing his buttons with a heavy hand, though your own voice shakes. He’s feeling it too—you’ve never been so short with each other. His voice is raised. 

“What am I supposed to say?” 

It boils over. 

“That you like me!”

It rings. 

Then it’s silent. 

His face is mostly blank. A little sorrowful around his eyes. 

It’s cold, jumping into the deep end like this. 

“We can’t talk about this right now,” he finally says, glancing to the side as if to suggest a situation the size of the whole city. 

“Spencer, I—”

“It’s impossible to have a meaningful discussion until your judgement isn’t impaired, otherwise it’s—”

“I am telling you that I flirt with you because I really like you.”

“I—”

It appears you’ve truly thrown him for a loop.  For a moment his jaw works at nothing, a soliloquy of words go unspoken, and then he’s stuttering and fumbling for the right thing to say, looking everywhere but at you. 

“I can’t—that’s—regardless of whether or not it’s even true—”

“It is true.”

“Could you—stop?” He pleads. “You can’t tell me that. I mean, the power imbalance when you’ve been drinking and I haven’t—it’s—I mean, it's coercive. Because I brought it up, I asked an inappropriate question—or at least started to ask it, and you—not that it was your fault, I’m the responsible party in this instance, but if tomorrow you realize you never wanted to tell me—so I have to take that with a grain of salt. I’m just—I have to pretend I didn’t hear that, alright? And you can’t say it again.”

He’s ridiculous. You shift your weight onto one foot casually. 

“That’s not very nice. I just confessed to having a huge crush on you and you’re gonna leave me hanging?”

There is an undeniable sort of pleasure in the bright of his eyes, and you phrased it that way on purpose, just to see him preen and glow—also to see if you could make him trip all over himself some more. Right now, despite the liminal space your relationship may or may not be occupying, you’re teasing him like you always do. Like he’s a friend, because he is. Before anything else. 

He tries to glower, barely. 

“Were you listening to me at all?”

“It was hard with all the stammering. I thought you might pass out.”

“I might,” he grumbles, and the admission pleases you greatly. Your lips tug as you admire him for a moment—watch his defenses go down and his features ease into something more inviting. 

God, maybe you really had been too hard on him. Maybe he really didn’t expect that you would like him back. 

You’re struck with the need to reassure. 

A dampened clack emits from your shoe where the heel hits the ground as you step down off the curb. 

“You know… I do like you. A lot. I mean it. And I’m glad I told you, because... you like me too, right?”

He raises his brows, like don’t do anything stupid, as you approach unhurriedly. It’s good to see that you haven’t broken his spirit completely. 

Less than a foot away, you stop. Close enough to be in his space. Too far for him to have the grounds to step back. 

His eyes are careful on you, analytical as always, constantly predicting an infinite number of outcomes to any given scenario. That’s how he keeps his footing in the world. But he’s never very good at predicting you. And it helps that his razor sharp intellect is dulled, some, with affection. Attraction. 

It shows in his eyes. He’ll let you push boundaries he knows he shouldn’t. More so if you keep speaking to him this softly. Almost whispering.

“Tell me you like me, Spencer.”

Because he hasn’t yet. All the heavy lifting has been done for him, and that just won’t do. 

First, he opens his mouth, and you watch the internal debate, a million things he could say, spinning round in his eyes like pinwheels. Rules, and buts, and caveats.

In the end, he just clears his throat. Speaks in the same secretive tone. Low enough to be intimate.

“I like you.”

Such a simple thing has never made you feel so airy before in your life. You steal another glance at his lips.

“So it’s really not that complicated. We could probably just kiss.”

He tinges pink.

“We definitely can’t.”

“You also said we couldn’t talk about it, and yet…”

“Talking is different. As far as I’m concerned, nothing you say to me tonight is binding. Whatever just transpired happened completely off the record. We can… talk about it tomorrow, but right now, you and I are friends.”

You shrug.

“Friends can kiss.”

“No, they can’t,” he says definitively, though not without a healthy dose of sardonic self-awareness and a dark smile. His hand finds your waist, and it’s glancing, if anything a light push, but you’re delighted nonetheless. Almost as pleased as if he really had kissed you. “It’s cold. I’m ready to leave.”

You’ve pushed him enough for one night. And it is cold. So you shuffle around the car with quick steps to the passenger side door, hooking your fingers under the biting metal handle and waiting for him to unlock the vehicle. 

You’re shivering as your thighs press against leather upholstery, only the thinnest layer of synthetic material protecting your legs. Spencer is already starting the car, but the engine is too cold to bother turning the heat on yet. 

“I think it’s colder in here than outside. Look at my hand.” You hold it up for him, and it is discolored, waxy, as he mindlessly takes it between his own much warmer ones. “I thought alcohol was supposed to keep you warm. Didn’t that chef on the Titanic survive hours in the ocean because he was hammered?”

“That’s a myth. Not the chef—he did survive, but it was a complete anomaly. Alcohol causes vasodilation in the dermis layer of the skin, so you feel warmer, but it draws blood flow away from your internal organs and significantly raises your likelihood of developing hypothermia.”

Does he notice how he’s holding your hand? Carefully pressing his thumbs to the center of your palm and pushing up through your love and life lines, cupping the fingers, before sandwiching them between his own and generating friction the way a child furiously rolls a play-doh worm?

“I guess I’m really not that drunk, then.”

He’s not expecting it, and maybe he doesn’t know what to make of your exceptionally gentle tone at first. It was a mistake, you think, as he relinquishes his hold on your hand, and you curl it to retain the memory of his warmth. But then he tucks hair behind your ear, like he’s done once or twice before, and smiles in a way you don’t quite understand. 

“I know.”

You won’t push him. You won’t ask for anything else, and you won’t demand an explanation. Spencer is special. It can all wait, because you have something good with him already. Something important. Something like holding hands. 

It comes as a surprise when he leans across the console, and you lean in a trance to meet him, and another surprise when he gently redirects, pressing his lips to your cheek, close enough to match the corners of your mouths and nothing more. 

You’d let him do it a hundred times over, but he draws back after a fraction of a lingering second, and finds your hand to stroke the back of it, forgotten in your lap. 

“You said no kissing,” you murmur, as if in a dream. If you had the wherewithal to be embarrassed maybe you wouldn’t be ogling so much. 

“Compromise.”

If anything, you should be the cheek-kisser. But there will be time to feel slighted about that later. Time to amend. For now, you look ahead robotically. 

“Is there a rule against friendly hand-holding?”

“Probably,” he says.

But he lets you hold his hand in your lap the whole drive to your apartment, anyway. 

[princessbrunette]

can’t stop thinking about babydaddy!rafe taking toddler!daughter out for the day because you have plans — and he’s not really sure what the best way to entertain a toddler is, so he takes her to the drive-through zoo.

she seems happy enough in her car seat in the back, the buzz-cut kook checking her through the mirror every so often until they arrive there. “alright, y’ready to see some animals? huh?” he coo’s, craning round to look at her as she squeals and bangs her chubby fists in excitement. “yeaaah. you look excited. looove animals, just like mommy — don’t you?” he pulls into the ticket booth, scanning the code on his phone before they let him in, rafe’s large expensive car crawling slowly up the cobblestone.

it’s hard to know if she’s enjoying the sights at first, blinking her big round eyes at the sights that pass her. until of course, she’s confronted with her favourite animal. the animal she was most excited about when daddy told her they were going to the zoo.

“camel!” she yells, and rafe lets the car sit still, the two gazing out their assigned windows at the dusty animal boredly inspecting some grass. “camel from the book, daddy!” she babbles in baby talk, and though he’s got no clue why she’d be so excited over a camel of all animals, or what ‘book’ she’s babbling about — he entertains it anyway.

“thats right, peanut.” he croons, turning in his seat once again to look her way, sunglasses rattling against his chest where they hang from his polo. the camel comes a little closer to the car, and despite your strict instruction — rafe unwinds his daughters window just a tad. “look at thaaat, huh?”

“camel! camel!” she clasps her hands together — the spitting image of you and rafe smiles, all warm and genuine. it was a real shame you couldn’t come today. the camel looks right through the window at his little girl before spitting in disinterest on the ground and continuing to trot away. rafe kisses his teeth.

“yeah walk away from my little girl, rude ass bitch.” he lets slip. it’s quiet, but he knows he shouldn’t say it anyway. luckily for his little girl, she didn’t seem to mind or notice the camels disinterest, happily humming to herself as rafe continues to slowly drive the car along the cobble once more. there’s a couple of seconds of silence — and just as rafe is about to fill it, asking if she’d wanna see the monkeys next, your daughter speaks up.

loud and unabashed, she grins. “bitch!”

rafe blinks, head whipping round to glance at her. “oh sh— uh, nah. honey we don’t uh, we don’t say those things alright? s’a bad word. your mommy will kill me if she hears y—”

“bitch! bitch bitch bitch!” she giggles, clapping her hands together. rafe presses his lips together at his only mistake.

“hey, language kiddo.”

the rest of the day is spent filled with distractions for his little girl. ensuring she forgets all about that naughty word by buying her whatever useless stuffed animal from the drive in zoo, whatever chicken nuggets from the restaurant that she’ll barely nibble on, repeating whatever silly joke that makes her cackle. he’s convinced it works, and soon — even rafe forgets all about the incident.

she’s practically asleep by the time rafe’s handing her back to you at the end of their day.

“was everything okay? did you take pictures?” you smile, looking tired from whatever chaotic day you’d had but still beautiful nonetheless. rafe blinks himself out of a stare quickly, going to answer.

“no yeah, loads uh… i’ll send ‘em through when i get home.” he nods, wiping his hands on his pockets watching the toddler stir, now back in her mothers arms. she gives you a tight cuddle before sleepily craning round to look at rafe, hair all messy and one eye still stuck shut.

“say bye to daddy.” you coo quietly, bouncing her a few times. she’s seemingly too tired, instead offering a tiny fist to wave at him in parting. he smiles, eyes flickering away from you to catch her hand and press a kiss to it before backing up— taking in the perfect family that was just out of his reach before turning back around to walk back to his car, fishing for his keys in his pocket.

then, comes your daughters voice. raspy and sleepy — yet clear and unmistakeable.

“bye bitch!”

rafe slowly spins on his heel, just in time to watch your face turn from confusion, to horror, to pissed off. at him.

[whenikissedthegiyuu]

Kinktober 2024

Dry Humping w/ Miya Atsumu

word count 878

18+ mdni. fem!reader, smut, college au, making out, grinding, coming in pants, boob play, pet names (baby, doll, baby girl, darling), fingering, miya atsumu the man that you are, written in 2nd pov

kinktober 2024 mlist can also read on ao3

Your lips were locked with Atsumu’s in a kiss, his hands gripping your waist as you climbed on his lap. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, between practice and exams, so for your first night together without any responsibilities you wanted to lay down to watch a movie and eat junk food. 

You weren’t complaining, however, when the blond pulled you into his arms under the pretense of cuddling. His mouth wasted no time finding your neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin. A shiver ran down your spine when he bit down hard and grabbed your face to make you face him, unhappy with the fact that you were still staring at the tv instead of focusing on him. 

Your half lidded gaze let him know your attention had not been on the movie at all. 

So, you found yourself on his lap, kissing him until you were both breathless, and then kissing him some more. He hissed against your lips when you sat on his hardening dick, then moved his hands to grope your tits over your shirt. 

Your back arched into his touch, a moan tumbling out as you ground your hips down, your clothed pussy pressing against his erection. “Fuck,” His head rolled back against the couch and he grabbed your hips to push you down as he thrusted up. His eyes opened just enough to look at your eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure. “Look at ya, baby girl. Y’look so fucked out already.” 

You let out a soft laugh, hips pushing down to shut him up, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “Seems like it’s you who’s about to ruin their pants, baby.” You replied just as his hands moved down to your ass, slipping inside your pants to grab your bare cheeks. His head fell forward and he tucked his head into the crook of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your skin. 

He moved a hand up your torso, he slipped it under your shirt to push it over your breasts until they were exposed to his hungry gaze. He wasted no time pulling you to him so he could wrap his lips around your nipple. He looked up into your eyes as he flicked his tongue over the hardened nub, then he licked a trail to your other nipple. 

“Atsumu!” You whined as he kept grinding against you, your clit pressing against the cotton of your shorts. He hummed around your nipple, then moved to suck the underside into his mouth. 

“C’mon, doll.” He grunted against your skin, his cock twitching as he felt his orgasm nearing embarrassingly quick. His breath caught in his throat. “Wanna make ya cum– want ya t’ make a mess.”

Your hand tangled with his dyed locks, gently tugging at the roots when your name tumbled from his lips in a moan, a pitch higher than he had intended. He pressed his forehead to your collarbone and held you down to press his cock against your core, gripping tightly onto your ass to keep you in place. 

His breath left him in harsh pants until his fingers dug into your cheeks and you felt the wetness seeping through your pants. You tugged harder at his hair and his teeth dug into your skin, nearly breaking it as his tip kept spurting out cum. 

You barely had a moment to look down between you and catch the dark patch in his crotch. He pulled you to slightly raise up on your knees.

He shoved his hand into your shorts and pushed your panties to the side, wasting no time to collect your wetness so he could rub your clit. Your hand darted out to grab his wrist to push his fingers lower, clenching around nothing when his fingertips brushed against your entrance.

“Greedy girl.” He chuckled and slid two fingers in to the knuckle. His free hand moved up to squish your cheeks together. “Can feel this pretty pussy clenching so tightly around my fingers, can barely move ‘em. Don’t ya wanna come?” 

You nodded eagerly, hips pushing down to feel his fingers deeper inside you. You opened your mouth, ready to beg for it, but only a broken moan left you when he started moving his fingers, his thumb finding your clit immediately. Your eyes rolled back as you still held onto his hair, pulling him to your chest. He wasted no time sucking a nipple into his mouth. 

He looked up to watch you throw your head back, mouth falling open as you came. He could come again in his pants just from watching your body twitch in his arms and hearing the sound of his fingers pushing in and out of your cunt. He gently dragged his teeth over your nipple and you tightened almost painfully around his finger as he pulled them out. 

He tapped his fingers on your bottom lip and you sucked them into your mouth, tongue licking between his fingers and moaning softly at your own taste. He pulled his fingers out to grab your cheeks again, smearing your spit over your face. 

“Ya better not be thinkin’ I’m done with ya just yet, darlin’.” He smirked before picking you up and heading toward the bathroom. 

[naturesapphic]

Lunch

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, oral, fingering, Dom!billie, sub!reader

“I could eat that girl for lunch

Yeah, she dances on my tongue

Tastes like she might be the one

And I could never get enough

I could buy her so much stuff

It's a craving, not a crush, huh

"Call me when you're there"

Said, "I bought you somethin' rare

And I left it under 'Claire'"

So now, she's comin' up the stairs

So I'm pullin' up a chair

And I'm puttin' up my hair.”

Billie called you to see when you were coming back home and said that she bought you something rare. She knew how much you liked this particular dress that had y/f/c (your favorite color) and wanted to get the dress for you. After she hung up she started cleaning up her room for your arrival. After a few moments, Billie heard you coming up the stairs and pulled a chair out in the bedroom. She sat down on it and started pulling up her hair.

“Baby, I think you were made for me

Somebody write down the recipe

Been tryin' hard not to overeat

You're just so sweet

I'll run a shower for you like you want

Clothеs on the counter for you, try 'em on

If I'm allowеd, I'll help you take 'em off.”

“Hey mamas.” Billie said lowly as she got up for her seat and walked over to you and pulled you against her by your waist. “Hi baby.” You said smiling big at her. You wrapped your arms around her next while her hands went lower and lower until they were on your plump ass. She gave it a gentle squeeze that made you bite your lip. “If you want…I can run a shower for you while I get your stuff ready for you to try on baby….” She said while looking in your eyes. “Sure baby id love that.” You smiles big as you placed a grateful kiss upon her lips.

She kissed you back and pulled away from you and gave your ass a smack. You blushed wildly and gave Billie a shy smile as she had a big smirk plastered on her face. She went into the bathroom and started your shower as you took off your clothes and wrapped a towel around you. Billie came out of the bathroom and her eyes darken at the sight of you with just your towel on. “I’ll be quick baby.” You said walking past her and giving her a quick kiss on her cheek.

You went inside the bathroom to take a quick shower as Billie grabbed your dress and went downstairs with it and put it on the counter for you. After a bit, you came out and dried off while you put on some quick clothes since you will be trying on something that Billie got you. You came down the stairs with Billie on her phone standing next to the counter that laid the dress. You gasped and quickly went over to it and inspected it. “Holy shit! Billie!” You gasped out and hugged her tightly which she giggled it. “I wanted to get only the best for my mamas. Now…would you like me to help you take your clothes off and put the dress on?” She said with a playful smirk on her lips.

You nodded and she slowly started taking off your clothes, telling you how gorgeous and sexy your body was and then put your new dress on. “Billie I love it! I love you…” you said happily and twirled in your new dress, Billie watched you with a love struck look on her face followed by lust. You looked absolutely delicious and she just needed a taste of you.

“I could eat that girl for lunch

Yeah, she dances on my tongue

Tastes like she might be the one

And I could never get enough

I could buy her so much stuff

It's a craving, not a crush, huh

Oh, I just wanna get her off, oh

Oh, Oh, oh, Oh.”

Billie had her fingers deep into your pussy, pounding into you while her lips were attached to your neck. You were whining and squirming as her speed increased. “Fuck mamas…your walls are squeezing around my fingers so tightly…you feel so good.” She whispered in your ear and started nibbling on it as her fingers were knuckle deep into you. You grabbed her shoulders and moaned loudly as you came hard all over fingers and hand.

She slowly pulled her fingers out and looked intensely in your eyes as she popped her fingers in her mouth. She moaned softly and licked her fingers clean. “Go upstairs mama and take some pictures in the mirror and show off your new dress babygirl..” she whispered as she helped you off the counter and guided you upstairs to the bedroom.

“She's takin' pictures in the mirror

Oh my God, her skin's so clear

Tell her, "Bring that over here"

You need a seat? I'll volunteer

Now she's smilin' ear to ear

She's the headlights, I'm the deer.”

Billie was watching you take all sorts of pictures in the mirror and she was growing horny again at the sight of you. Your beautiful clear skin and she started imagining how soft it is. She fixed her cap on her head and licks her lips. “Babygirl, bring that over here.” She said catching your attention. You blushed and walked over to her. “Cmon…I have a seat for you..” billie volunteered for you and pulled you onto her lap. Her hands started roaming your body and took off your new dress and put it on y’all’s bedroom floor.

“I've said it all before, but I'll say it again

I'm interested in more than just bein' your friend

I don't wanna break it, just want it to bend

Do you know how to bend?

I could eat that girl for lunch

She dances on my tongue

I know it's just a hunch.”

You were riding billies face as she was eating you like you were her last meal. Your back was arched and eyes were closed as you were in bliss. Billies tongue was deep inside of you, her tongue feeling every bit of your velvety walls. Her nose was brushing against your clit which made you choke on your moans and make your thighs shake around her head. “Taste so fucking good…you are better than any lunch, dinner, and breakfast.” She moaned into you and you whimpered in response, simply because you were too busy moaning her name and you couldn’t get any words out.

“But she might be the one

I could Eat that girl for lunch

Yeah, she Tastes like she might be the one

I could, I could

Eat that girl for lunch

Yeah, she, Yeah, she

Tastes like she might be the one.”

Not long after, you were cumming hard into her mouth. Billie smiled and drank all of your juices that was flowing out of you. She licked you clean and you got off her face and laid beside her on the bed. “Fuck…I’ll never get enough of your taste. If you’d let me…I could be between your pretty thighs all the time mamas.” She smirked and you giggled as you lightly slapped her arm which made her smile. “I love you mamas…always and forever. You are the one for me.” She gushed out which made your smile even bigger. “I love you most Billie.” You said and you laid your head on her plush chest and fell asleep in her strong arms.

A/n: 1,325 words hehe. I hope y’all enjoyed ;) sorry this was kinda rushed but I wanted to get something out today. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest. I love y’all!

[chamomiletealeaf]

Hiiiii hope this is an ok request but what about price holding readers thighs apart and making her watch in a mirror as she cums from his fingers over and over again? Maybe in an 'I'm the only one who can make you feel like this' way?

I want this entire request engraved into my tombstone when I die...

Warnings: unwanted attention from a guy in the bar, Price being a tease, fingering, squirting (ofc)

The dim lights of the bar accentuate the curve of your breasts in your low cut dress you're wearing and John cannot keep his eyes off of you.

He watches you from the bar, leaning back against it while sitting at the stool with his legs wide as you dance without a care in the world. Your tiny little skin tight dress dress riding up as you raise your arms and you pull the hem down before you flash everyone in the place your dainty little panties.

John chuckles to himself and takes a sip of his whiskey as he notices the panic in your swift motion to pull your dress down when you feel it begin to ride up over your ass.

He's enjoying the show, and you're enjoying putting one on for him.

That is until some drunk frat boy thinks you're doing it all for him.

He comes up behind you and whispers in your ear.

"Cute little' dance you got goin' on babe." He says and you scowl.

"Ew." You say, trying to move away from him.

"Aw c'mon baby, you think I don't see you dancin' for me?" He slurs his words and tries to reach for your hips, but John gets his hands there before the bastard drunk off a white claw can.

John pulls your hips back so your ass is pressing against his front as he stares daggers into the man's eyes.

"You wanna try touching my girl again or do you value your arms?" He spits over you down at the man.

The man scoffs and makes a snarky remark about an "old man" before going back to his buddies.

John spins you around and runs his hands down to your ass and squeezes, making you giggle.

"How bout we get out of here sweetheart?" John whispers into your ear, giving it a nibble, and you nod your head.

The ride home was quiet as you look at him with a smile, admiring your man runnin your hand through his hair and he squeezes your thigh.

John runs his hand up your thigh until he feels something around it that's not your panties.

He looks down in confusion to see what his hand caught on to and he sees a frilly little garter with a tiny baby blue bow on it and he growls.

"Well fuck me darling. If I knew you were wearing this tiny little thing I'd have taken you home sooner." He snarls and snaps the band against your thigh making you whimper.

The second you get home John is rushing to your side of the door to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a smack.

"John! The whole neighborhood can see up my dress!" You say, trying to cover yourself with the hand not holding onto him.

"Let 'em look love, they just can't touch." He says with a smirk, putting the key in the door with you still over his shoulder.

You get inside the house and he bring you into your shared bedroom and throws you down on the bed.

Instantly John is between your thighs kissing up your legs as he moves up the bed until his mouth is at your garter.

"You wore this on purpose didn't you." He says, biting the delicate piece of fabric while squeezing your thighs.

You nod your head while biting back a smile, giddy at the sight of your man going feral for you.

"You fuckin' minx." He says with a smirk.

"Don't even know how fuckin' gorgeous you look do you. Such a pretty sight you are." John says, moving his lips from your garter to your panties peeking out from your tiny fitted dress that was more of a long tank top if anything.

"Fuck and look at these." John says, shoving his nose into the gusset of your silk baby blue panties that match the bow of your garter.

"Knew you were gonna get fucked tonight didn't you." He teased. "So fuckin' wet already. You been like this all night sweetheart?"

You squeeze your legs together and whimper, but John shoves his hands between your legs pulling them apart.

"Uh-uh, you got all dolled up for me and you're not gonna hide. In fact-" John says, and you see a flash of curiosity in his eyes, like he just got an idea.

He gets off of you and grabs the chair from your vanity, placing it in front of your full body mirror.

"You're gonna watch yourself get fucked, since you wanted to look all pretty. Gotta show you just how sexy you look." John pulls you off the bed by your ankles and he grabs your hips as he sits in the chair, pulling you down onto him.

"Now c'mon sweetheart. Open those legs for me."

You do as he asks, and he places one of your legs over each of his, spreading you wide for him, damp spot on your panties on display.

"Ooh now look at that darling. All spread out nice and pretty for me." He says, making eye contact with you in the mirror as he goes to bite your neck.

"Fuck John please." You moan.

"Yeah? Want me to play with this pretty little pussy? Hm?" John says into your ear, rubbing his fingers over your clit through your panties making your back arch.

"Didn't know you'd like my outfit this much." You tease.

"Don't get cheeky with me now." He warns, slapping your clit through your panties making you arch your back.

"As much as I love your little outfit I needa see this sweet little pussy drip for me." John says before ripping your panties down your legs, then spreading you back open.

"Keepin' this little garter on. So fuckin' cute." He says, mostly to himself before he shoves two fingers into your cunt.

You arch your back and reach an arm back around his head.

"Fuck John- mmph-"

"Eyes on the mirror baby. Look at yourself while I fuck you with my fingers like a good girl."

"Bet that muppet couldn't even find where that spot is. Riighhhtt here." He says before curling his fingers into that perfect spot inside you that makes you gush.

Your eyes roll back and you yelp.

"Ah! fuck right there baby- oh my god." You moan, gripping his hair as you writhe in his lap in front of the mirror.

"Keep those pretty eyes on the mirror bunny. Look at how wet I make you."

Price fingers you ruthlessly curling his fingers up and down inside you making you flutter and gush around him, your pussy all glossy from your arousal.

Tears prick at your eyes and roll down your cheeks when he wraps a hand around your jaw forcing you to keep your head in place looking straight at yourself in the mirror, and you can't help but feel embarrassed at how helpless you look.

You wiggle in his lap, feet kicking out as you hiccup and sob in pleasure, the sensation becoming too much.

"Fuck John yeah- mhm- don't stop. Please fuck-" You babble.

"Look at yourself darling. Look how fucking pretty you look, such a gorgeous fuckin' mess for me. Prettiest fuckin' cunt I've ever seen. Always so fuckin' pretty and wet. Look so cute in this skimpy little dress and that garter squeezing your pretty little thigh. Go on say it, say you're so fuckin' pretty." Price growls in your ear, not breaking eye contact with you in the mirror.

"I- I'm" You struggle.

"Say it or you don't get to cum." He demands, stopping for a moment.

"I- I'm so fuckin' pretty." You say, humiliated at the position he's put you in.

"Yeah you are. Now cum for me sweetheart." He says, and you do.

You kick your legs out and squeal as you squirt all over the both of you, trying to keep your eyes on Price in the mirror.

"Fuck such a good girl. Squirting all over me just like she's told." He coos.

After you cum, Price turns your head to him and devours you in a kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth.

"Did so well for me." He praises as he presses his forehead to yours and you sniffle, his thumb coming up to wipe your tears from your cheeks.

"I love you John Price." You blurt out, and his eyes soften.

"I love you too y/n. Now let's move this to the bed, I'm not quite done with you yet darling." He says with a soft smile, and you nod, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world to have someone like John Price.

[apomaro-mellow]

5 times eddie singled out steve during a concert and the one time steve did it back

Corroded Coffin fans were no strangers to the deep love shared between frontman Eddie and his boyfriend Steve. To the point where magazines barely cared to feature any candid pics of them unless Eddie was flipping off the camera. "Two Very in Love People Share a Kiss at Cafe Date" didn't really sell much when it was the 50th story like that.

So when Eddie slowed things down in the middle of the concert, getting that very familiar 'heart eyes' look.

"I know my baby's in the audience. Even though he has a very comfortable room backstage. Show me where you are beautiful." Eddie's voice was slightly rough from the first half of songs.

His eyes scanned the audience until he heard a bunch of screaming from his right. The crowd was vibrating and he knew someone had spotted Steve.

"There you are." Eddie bit his lip, grin threatening to split his face. "This next one's for you."

The crowd was a mix of screams and awws as the beginning melody of It's Always Been You was heard.

2. Another day, another venue. This time, the afternoon crowd at a music festival. It was one of Eddie's favorite kind of scenes. People of all types, letting the music take them in broad daylight. A good mix of diehard fans, casuals, and people who had never heard them play before.

Eddie knew for a fact that Steve was sitting in a little foldable chair, with some drink from one of the booths. He always looked so unassuming with his soft hair and even softer clothes. But Eddie could never let him forget his inner badass. Nor did he let anyone else forget.

"Lil pop quiz for my fans", Eddie started. "One of our fan favorites The Knight's Arrival is inspired by someone very special in my life. Can we get a chant going for the man who has always been my knight in shining armor?"

A very enthusiastic chant for Steve started and Eddie thought his heart might burst. It was like a triumphant reprisal of those times the school would cheer on the ex-king on game night.

3. Sometimes the band put an age restriction on a concert. Now Eddie was of the mind that children didn't need to be coddled or have things censored for them. But also, he didn't need to lay it all out when there was a kid in the audience.

It was these kinds of shows that Eddie let it all hang out. More than one song was inspired by his nights with Steve. His angel's voice even featured on one track, letting out husky moans as Eddie brought him to the brink in the recording booth.

And tonight Eddie was hot. Hot enough to have already taken his shirt off and throw it to the audience. Hot enough that when he went backstage and saw Steve, he was only thinking of one thing. Eddie kissed him deep, tongue licking at the roof of his mouth before a word could leave his lips.

Crash was keeping the audience going with a drum performance. One that started with a simple beat that slowly intensified.

"I want them to hear you", Eddie said against Steve's mouth.

Steve's hair was already tangled in his hair. "You wanna dangle me in front of them?", he smirked.

"Show them you're mine", Eddie started nibbling at his jaw. "Show 'em how good I love you down."

Eddie got the headset mic rigged onto Steve. His sweet boy was already hard, just as turned on from seeing Eddie in his element as he ever was. Eddie slid down to his knees and unzipped his boyfriend's pants.

It started quiet. Not even audible as Crash really got going on the drums and got close to the climax. The room erupted as he reached the end. And it was in the calming of their cheers that they finally began to hear it.

"Eddie, mmmfuck."

They stirred in unison. Steve's voice rang loud and clear as he received a pleasure the rest of them could only speculate on.

"Fuck, sso good. Don't stop. Don't stop-ahh."

For a moment all they heard was Steve's quickening breaths before he called out Eddie's name, dragging it out like he was falling down a well.

Eddie came out moments later, licking something off his lips to cacophonous cheers. The bassline to Take a Bite began. He wished he could've told his high school self that one day he'd get a standing ovation for blowing a guy.

4. "Before we get started tonight I gotta make an announcement!", Eddie came out, already on 100. "First, where's my angel baby. Help me find him."

As usual, a particular part of the audience went wild and moved in a way that could only mean Steve was there.

"Can I get a parting of the Red Sea?", Eddie asked, moving his hands apart and getting that part of the mob to split like Moses. Steve stood there in the middle.

"Get used to that gorgeous. My fellow rockers, scholars, and mischief makers - I am officially a kept man." He flashed the ring on his finger to a din of screams. "Wedding's next fall and we're registered at every corner liquor store! 5-6-7-8!"

5. Eddie felt like he was home. In the middle of a set, shredding in a way that made him feel alive. The current song made it even better. One of the best collaborative efforts of the band. All of their fingerprints were on this track.

The crowd was just as amped up, giving back everything they got. There truly was no place he'd rather be.

Then he caught sight of his Steve, standing just off stage in the wings. And he was overcome. None of this would be possible without him. And even if Eddie and his boys somehow made it to stardom, it all meant nothing without his sweetheart.

Eddie casually walked over, fingers still moving as he got closer to Steve. He only took his hands off his guitar to grab his fiance and dip him as they kissed. Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck. This wasn't his first time being kissed on stage.

And just as other times, the crowd went wild, while Jeff, Gareth, and Crash rolled their eyes through the playing.

6. Steve watched, absolutely lovestruck as Eddie sat on the couch, eating cereal. Dustin's baby, little Deana was propped up on cushions next to him, clearly satisfied as she sat there content. They were uncles babysitting for the weekend.

Steve walked over and grabbed the remote from off the coffee table, holding it like a mic. "All the babes out there, are you ready to rock?", he pointed to Deana.

Her new eyes got large at the movement and sound and her little fists waved in the air.

"But before I go on, I gotta give special love to someone tonight", Steve turned his gaze to Eddie. "To the greatest thing since sliced bread, I could watch you eat Coco Puffs all day."

"You're such a cornball", Eddie beamed, cheeks turning pink. "Can't believe you're doin it in front of a baby."

"Oh, don't tell me the god of rock is getting bashful? So when I wanna shout you out in front of our niece, it's cheesy. But when you call me out in front of thousands-"

"Shut up and kiss me." Eddie put the half finished bowl on the floor and grabbed Steve by the wrist, pulling him right into his lap.

Steve let out a little breath between kisses. "Dustin's gonna have a fit if he finds out we made out in front of his baby."

"What he don't know won't hurt him."

[soap-ify]

nsfw below , MDNI

just thinking about how johnny catches you listening to one of those porn audios.

cw fem!reader, HORRIBLE ATTEMPT AT SCOTTISH ACCENT, filming a nsfw audio, ass smacking (he LOVES ass), pussy easing, p in v, just pure filth — 1.4k words.

johnny saw you on the couch inside the small, cozy apartment you both lived in, your cheeks warm due to blood rushing to them while your fingers mindlessly fiddled with the hem of your shorts, eyes darted elsewhere — purely lost in your thoughts. your earphones were nicely snug in your ear, your breathing a bit heavy and quick while your phone was placed upside down on your lap, causing him to get very curious. just what could be riling you up so much?

he sneakily got behind you, leaning in a bit closer. that's when he heard some muffled sounds coming from your earphones — familiar noises of moans and skin slapping against one another. his brows knitted in amusement, a wolfish grin plastering on his lips as he stared at your side profile, unnoticed by you. dirty little minx, he thought to himself.

he swiftly removed your earphones from your ears, causing you to flinch in surprise and look at him, eyes widening up. "j...johnny?" you squeaked out in embarrassment, trying to squirm away though his rough hands had already caught your wrists, effortlessly pulling you onto his lap.

"didnae ken my lass liked to listen to that filthy stuff." he chuckled cheekily, his hands letting your wrists go and instead grabbing onto your waist, making you properly sit on his lap, chests pressed against one another.

you whined in protest, feeling too exposed due to your boyfriend catching your little secret. "i-i wasn't!" you blatantly lied, already regretting it once his hand came in contact with your plush ass, smacking it through the fabric of your shorts.

"shut it." he growled into your ear, lightly nipping on your earlobe, causing you to shiver on his lap. both of his hands began to fondle your soft ass, his face burying into the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your skin.

"say... wanna try makin' one of 'em with me?" he grinned.

-

that's how you found yourself inside your shared bedroom, clumsily balanced on your knees and hands, all bare and shivering due to the cool air from the air conditioner caressing your skin. johnny was behind you, knelt down on the bed while his rough hands held your hips in place, face buried in between your legs, mouth latched onto your puffy clit as he nibbled on it gently, earning soft whimpers from you.

he was recording it all. an audio recording app was turned on his phone, which was placed on the nightstand. the audio quality may turn out to be crappy in the end, but he didn't fucking care.

"all mine, eh?" he muffled against your cunt, fingernails digging into your plush skin while his tongue licked long stripes on your aching folds, sucking and slurping, making obscene noises as if he was a starving man eating his last meal. when you nodded shyly in agreement, he clicked his tongue and raised his right hand to gently smack your ass. "use yer words, lassie. want 'em all to hear ye moanin' like the needy wee thing ye are." he sneered.

"mmh—! yeah, all yours, johnny..." you managed to moan out, eyes all glossy with unshed tears due to how insanely filthy yet good it felt. after all, you would have never thought even in a million years that you would film one of those dirty audios. but here you are now.

he chuckled under his breath, continuing to work on your cunt — rolling your sensitive clit with his tongue and sucking on it gently while his nose was pressed against your entrance in this position, your legs trembling profusely, indicating your arriving orgasm.

"johnny—! so close, please..." you pathetically sobbed, your torso slumping down as you buried your face against the soft pillow, squelching sounds of your cunt being eaten out filling up the room.

johnny didn't stop, continuing to use his tongue on your puffy clit until you couldn't take it anymore, clenching around nothing as you came hard with a whiny moan, body convulsing in pleasure as your sweet cum dripped onto his tongue, causing him to groan in satisfaction, hungrily lapping it all up and tasting it. "fuck— so tasty, eh? ye love me eatin' ye out, right? love my tongue playin' with yer clit, shoving it in yer tight hole. fuckin' filthy." he chuckled softly as he pulled away from your cunt, chin wet with your juices, speaking so lewdly and words descriptive for the goddamn audio you both were filming.

you sniffled, ass still raised up while your chest rose and fell, hair sticking to your face as your head tilted back to look at him, seeing that shit-eating grin on his lips. "yes, johnny..." she babbled out, mind foggy from the pleasure.

"aw, look at ye. all mushy now." johnny cooed softly, pressing soft kisses on the back of your thighs, his stubble tickling your skin, causing a relaxed sigh to leave your lips. his hands would slowly tug down his sweatpants alongside his briefs, freeing his girthy cock that was already swollen with need, tip angrily flushed red and smeared with his precum.

"god... got my cock all hard. that's what ye do t'me, lassie..." he breathed out, shifting behind you so his cock was now aligned with your slick folds, his hands holding onto your waist. he would lean forward, nudging the tip of his cock with your entrance. earning a muffled noise from you.

"hush, easy..." he grunted, gently pushing the tip of his cock into your tightness, shuddering at the way your walls instantly clenched around him, trying to suck him in. "such a needy wee thing ye are, tryin' to suck my cock in with your tight cunt. been waitin' for this all day, huh? been imaginin' me fillin' ye up as ye listened to those audios of yers?" he licked his bottom lip, gently pushing his length around you. he was so fucking thick, shaft stretching your cunt nice and wide. once he was fully inside you, he let out a groan of pleasure, hand reaching out to gently caress the back of your head, royal blue eyes adoring the arch of your back.

you moaned sweetly once he began thrusting his cock in and out of your, tip slamming against your cervix without even trying. filthy slippery noises filled up the bedroom, air thickening up as his hips rutted against yours, your walls fluttering around him.

"johnny—! mmph..." your words soon turned into incomprehensible babbles, face nuzzled against the pillow while your drool dampened the fabric up, your hands clutching onto the sheets beneath you. felt so fucking good. each thrust made your eyes roll back, lips part open while he bullied his girthy cock into you, feeling it twitch inside your wetness.

"bloody hell... so close, lassie. want me to fill ye up?" he groaned, earning a quick nod from you. his grip tightened on your waist as he maintained the deep, sensual thrusts of his cock, one hand reaching in between your legs to fiddle with your aching clit. you were so close too to another orgasm, tongue slightly stuck out as loud whimpers left you.

soon your climax had hit you again, even more mind-numbing then before as you squeezed around his girth hard, a white ring forming around his shaft. he groaned in pleasure, that tight squeeze driving him to edge as waves of pleasure hit him like a truck, his balls tightening up before he released his thick ropes of cum inside your poor cunt, a shaky moan escaping his lips.

his thrusts slowed down but didn't stop yet, gently pushing the cum in and out of you, watching some of it drip down and stain the sheets. he will have to clean it later.

"fuckin' gorgeous... did so good f'me." he panted heavily, his fingers running through your hair as you tilted your head to look at him again, eyes all teary and lips wet from drool, cheeks flushed — looking all fucked.

he carefully slipped out of you, gently cupping your face in his hands as his lips met yours, kissing you with so much care. he grabbed his phone after that, grinning in victory as he stopped the recording. "gonna upload it later." he laughed teasingly, causing you to giggle sheepishly, trembling hands weakly swatting against his chest.

-

it was safe to say that the filthy audio you both had made had blown up on reddit, and it only encouraged johnny even further to make more of these with you.

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Unwind

James Potter x Reader

Anon: can i request a james x female reader smut where the reader is really stressed from work so james decides to take some stress off by fucking her? pls make it rlly detailed

Masterlist.

After a long and stressful day at work, you were happy to fall into the arms of your boyfriend James. Resting your head on his chest, you thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of his fingers scratching your scalp.

“Love, are you okay?” James asks, holding you even closer.

Sighing, you look up at him, “I’m fine, just had a really bad day at work and I’m so stressed and I just wanna sleep but I know I won’t be able to and-” you were interrupted by James’ hands on your face and his mouth shushing you. “It’s okay darling, let me take care of you,” he said.

Flipping you both over, he held himself up above you, kissing your nose, “let me help you forget all about it.” He kissed you, your mouth, your neck, lifted your shirt to kiss down your chest. “You’re so pretty, love, so beautiful,” he said, kissing your stomach, tickling you and making you giggle. Making his way back up, he pushed your shirt even further up your body, until he gestured for you to sit up so he could pull it off of you. He pushed you back down onto the couch, leaning down and kissing you again, tongue slipping into your mouth, teasing yours.

You decided you’d had enough of his slow teasing, so you reached a hand down, rubbing at the bulge in his pants. “Take ‘em off,” you groaned, pulling at the fabric of his pants. Chuckling, he did as told, even pulled his shirt off too. He was truly beautiful, his sculpted upper body broad enough to cover all of yours, but he leaned back, resting his body against the other side of the couch. “Come on then, love, not gonna wait for you all evening,” he was rubbing himself through the fabric of his underpants, which were stained where his tip pushed against them.

Getting up on your knees, you slipped out of your pants before sitting yourself in his lap, thighs straddling his, arms resting on his toned shoulders. His hips bucked, coming up to meet yours, causing him to throw his head back, groaning in pleasure. “Fuck, babe, missed you,” his hands squeezed your hips, holding you close, allowing his cock to push against your cunt, through the two layers of fabric. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, kissing, nibbling and trying to quiet your moans – a feat which only got harder as his hand reached down to rub your clit. It wasn’t long before you felt ready to take him, and you told him as much.

Pulling himself free from the confines of his boxers, the head of his cock bobbed against his stomach, leaving a little pool of precum. Not wanting to waste any more time, he pushed your underwear to the side, immediately making your hole accessible to him. He hissed as he pushed into you – but you weren’t sure if it was because of the tightness of your cunt, or the fact that you bit down hard on his shoulder.

You leaned back, getting ready to bounce on him, but he stopped you. “No babe, I’m taking care of you, just rest your pretty little head, I’ll fuck you real good,” he hushed, holding you by the back of your head, pushing you back into his neck before planting his feet firmly on the couch and pushing up into you. You whimpered pathetically as he entered you, filling you up all the way, making you stretch around him. “Fuck,” he groaned, feeling your warm, wet, tight hole enveloping him, squeezing his cock in the most delicous way. 

He started slow, careful, pushing into you softly and sweetly, kissing the top of your head. Though it didn’t take him many minutes to get restless, snapping his hips against yours, cock sliding in and out at an almost painful pace. Eyes rolled back, your brain turned into mush as he kept going, not once slowing down. “You’re so tight, babe, love you so much, god, you feel so good,” he praised, the words slipping from his mouth.

And it did feel good, the head of his cock gracing your g-spot with every thrust of his hips, making you fall closer to your orgasm. Knowing what you needed, James shoved his hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit, not stopping until your walls clamped down, spasming along with the rest of your body as you uncontrollably fell into your orgasm, coming all around him.

When your body relaxed again, falling limply against him, he once again heightened his pace, going faster, pushing in and out of you, trying to reach his own happy ending. Your cunt felt heavily overstimulated, almost sending you over the edge again. The sensation made you cry out before you bit down on his shoulder – the piercing pain sending him into his own orgasm, hips halting while his cock spasmed inside you, painting your insides white and sticky, placing his seed where he knew you wanted it.

It took him several minutes before he could move, slipping out of you and placing you next to him on the couch. “There you go, love, all relaxed now,” he said, chuckling at your sleepy eyes and hazy face. He really was the best way to unwind.

[wolvietxt]

★ late night snack!

(bucky barnes x reader, ~700 words)

the clock on your nightstand read 2:37 a.m. when you felt the bed shift. the soft rustle of the sheets and the quiet creak of the mattress told you bucky was awake, which was unusual for him at this hour. he was normally out cold by now, especially after the long day you'd both had.

you blinked groggily and turned over, squinting at his silhouette as he sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. “buck?” you murmured sleepily. “everything okay?”

“yeah,” he muttered, his voice low and a little sheepish. “just… hungry.”

you stifled a yawn, propping yourself up on one elbow. “hungry? at this hour?”

he nodded, glancing over his shoulder at you with a guilty look, like he knew he was being ridiculous. “yeah… can’t sleep. all i can think about is those cookies you made earlier.”

you couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped your lips. “you’re craving cookies?”

he shrugged, clearly trying to downplay it, but you could see the way his eyes lit up at the mention of them. “they were good,” he grumbled, as if that was the only explanation he needed. “can’t stop thinking about ’em.”

rolling your eyes fondly, you sat up fully, the warmth of the blankets slipping away as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. “well, i guess i’ll have to come with you then, since you clearly need a snack partner.”

his lips quirked up into a small smile, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “didn’t wanna wake you,” he admitted, standing up as you did, though he didn’t exactly protest when you started following him toward the kitchen. “but, uh… i wouldn’t mind the company.”

you grinned, trailing after him in your pyjamas as the two of you made your way to the kitchen. the apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the floorboards under your feet. the moonlight filtered in through the windows, casting a gentle glow on the countertops as bucky rummaged through the cabinets, looking for the cookies you’d baked earlier that day.

“found ’em,” he said triumphantly, pulling out the container and popping off the lid. he grabbed one and took a bite, the satisfied look on his face almost making you laugh again.

“better than you remembered?” you teased, leaning against the counter and watching as he chewed thoughtfully.

“maybe,” he muttered around a mouthful of cookie, offering the container to you. “do you want one?”

you took a cookie, breaking it in half and nibbling on the edge as you stood beside him. there was something so comforting about these late-night moments with bucky, when the world was quiet and it was just the two of you, sharing something as simple as a cookie in the middle of the night.

“can’t believe you woke up just for this,” you said, shaking your head with a soft smile.

he shrugged again, leaning against the counter and giving you a sideways glance. “what can i say? you make a damn good cookie.”

you chuckled, bumping his shoulder with yours. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

“you should,” he replied, and there was something warm in his tone, something that made your heart flutter just a little. he was always more relaxed in these quiet moments, his usual guarded demeanour softening around the edges.

after a few more bites, bucky set the container down, his hand finding yours almost instinctively as he pulled you closer. “thanks for getting up with me,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “didn’t really wanna be alone.”

you squeezed his hand, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “anytime, baby. you know i don’t mind.”

he looked down at you, his eyes soft in the moonlight, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding hands in the middle of the kitchen, the smell of cookies still lingering in the air. it was a simple moment, but it was enough to make everything else fade away.

“you ready to go back to bed?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting go. “yeah… let’s go.”

with that, you both headed back to bed, the quiet comfort of each other’s company more than enough to ease the restlessness of the night.

[courtingchaos]

Mark Em’ Up

Warnings: Sexual content, NSFW, Minors GTFO

A/N: Listen, inspiration struck. Eddie’s got a good neck, we all wanna bite it, just admit it.

He’s just sitting there, stretched out on his couch like a gangly cat. Head resting on his fist, elbow propped on the arm of the couch and you standing still at the edge of the carpet. Between getting up to grab a drink and turning around the sun has shifted, the earth has turned, and Eddie has tilted his head a fraction more to the side and that pale expanse is a siren song.

You’ve kissed him there before, so many times in fact. Had a nibble or two sure, but this angle on this afternoon with this lighting and whatever you two were doing before is coalescing into a fervor. Never before have you felt the need to sink your teeth into him like the sweetest treat you’ve ever seen. Oh you know he’d love it too, would probably yelp and squeal a little while you grazed your teeth along that tendon. Ran your tongue up the rest of the way to his ear to give that a bite too. Really you want to set your lips from his collar to the nape of his neck, marking him up an down like a map of the Andes. Red and purple ridges like lay lines of your obsession with him.

Maybe it’s your heavy breathing or the fact that you’ve been hovering like a horny poltergeist for a second too long but Eddie turns to look at you.

“You okay?” He asks, frown forming on his face. The turn of his head creases that pillar of throat you’ve been eyeing and you huff. Setting your can down on the counter to free your hands up so you can snatch his collar when you get to the couch. Determination set in your features while Eddie tries to scramble away from you. “What the fu-uuck.” He strangles out when you snatch him, climbing over his bent knees to straddle his hip. He’s still sideways under you but that’s where you intend to keep him so you can get at his stupid neck taunting you. “If you wanted to fool around you just gotta say sooo-“ He pulls the syllables out when you descend, lips eager to suck at his skin, teeth aching to sink in softly and mark. Normally it’s him leaving you with little love bites. Some hidden, others left on the edge of your jaw or just along the collar of your shirt, a reminder for you and a notice for others, ‘hands off’. You’d refrained from leaving any on him, mostly because the urge never struck you like this before but also to save him from any ribbing he’d receive at the shop. Now though you’d gladly send him out into the world, baring your fine artwork up and down his throat. “Baby.” He whines (actually whines) and you can feel the vibration of his neediness along your lips. You’re still clutching his shirt in your hands, holding him in place under you but now he’s clutching your hands, fingers grasping at your fist, breath coming out in little gasps. You can’t get enough of this, laving your tongue up to his earlobe, biting down gently and pulling another little whimper out of him. His eyes are squeezed shut, teeth worrying at his bottom lip, little puffs of air from his nose making his hair dance around his face. You do exactly what you had intended to do and start behind his ear, lips stuck to the tender skin there, sucking it between your teeth to pull that color in. You don’t even lift up, just slide your mouth down leaving a wet trail of spit in your wake. Leaving him wet and purple and red under your lips. Your knee is tight against him and you can feel him getting hard against your thigh, can feel him trying to wriggle out (or maybe further) into your touch. You won’t deny him anything today, but you came over to this couch with a single motivation and you aren’t leaving until the job is done. He tastes clean and vaguely salty, the warmer weather making him sweat so soon out of his after work shower. You can smell his shampoo, the coconut one you bought him that he secretly really likes, and the lingering smoke from his cigarette. It closes in around you, swirls together with the homey smell of the trailer and you get lost in your work. Eddie is slowly going insane, whining and gripping your arm, his hands searching for something he can wind his fingers into. Your hair is pulled back in a clip, away from his fingers so he settles on bunching your shirt in his fist and trying to grind into your leg. He tries to say something and stutters when you bite down a little harder, rolling the skin between your teeth before soothing the burn with the flat of your tongue. You shush him anyways and move one hand off of his collar to grip his jaw and push it up slightly, shifting his face up and away. The line of hickeys trailing from his ear is varied, little burst of darker red where you’d gotten a little ahead of your self and sucked a little too hard.

“Honey please.” He begs (actually begs). You can feel him tense under you, can feel his jaw working where it’s cupped in your hand. You leave another line of marks to meet up with the first and finally detach yourself to look at your handiwork. Running a finger down that tendon makes it flex under your touch, his mouth falling open to gasp when you run your nail lightly over his skin. There’s too much space here, too much pale you want to mark up. It’d take you all afternoon, you’re sure of it, to get it as decorated as you like but you’ll take it for now. You lean down one last time to suck hard at the hollow of his throat, feeling the vibrations of him groaning against your mouth. With a wet pop you let him go and finally sit all the way up, wiping your face where you’ve smeared spit over your cheek.

He looks wrecked, red faced, neck flushed and marked. His chest rising and falling rapidly and his hands flex where they’re still wrapped around your forearm now resting on his stomach. He turns his head slightly to look up at you, eyes dark and heavy. You can see the shine of wetness on his neck where the sun catches it and you grin.

“What the fuck?” He’s breathless.

“Sorry, you just looked so tasty.” You sound so satisfied. Thighs still squeezing him tight you can feel how hard he is and you wonder just how he’ll exact his revenge. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll stay pliant and whiney, stay under you on this couch and let you leave a longer trail of marks down his chest. Down his stomach. Down his thighs.

He turns under you to face up, finally releases your arm to run his palm over his neck and makes a face when he feels the heat and the wet. “Oh you really went to town didn’t you?”

“Mhm.” Still satisfied but now you can plant your hands on his chest and hold him down, watch his eyes grow big and shining when he looks up at you in complete adoration. “I just wanted to make a little statement. Thought you’d wear it well.” You run your finger lightly against his throat, right over that last hickey you left. Under your palms his heart beats faster and you feel that swoop of warmth in your chest, reserved only for him. “If you want, I can leave a few more around.” You tilt your head and glance down his chest, his hands running up and down your thighs in anticipation.

He spends the afternoon becoming your own personal canvas and when he goes to work the next morning, coveralls tied around his waist it’s Jeff who notices first. Flicks the collar of Eddie’s t-shirt and gives him a shit eating grin.

“Did she at least by you dinner first?”

“I think I was dinner.”

(Sacrifice for the readmore)

[miheartsedthings]

Billy request if you do em :)

52. “Can I kiss you?”

TA-DA! Hope you didn't think I forgot you or anything.

Summary: Post- graduation, Billy's found-family has been teaching him about consent. He hasn't fully grasped it.

"Can I Kiss You?"*

TW: Dubious consent

Billy and his friends approach you at the first party of the semester. Billy’s one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen in person, overshadowing anyone else you’ve met on campus and easily trumping everyone at the party. You don’t expect to look up from your drink and have his undivided attention. Yet there he is, sauntering over to you in a leather jacket with no shirt underneath. In his eyes is such a steady determination you find yourself unable to look away as he approaches.  

“Ask her first, B.” Steve urges him but Billy's eyes are cloudy with drink and intention. Nancy stands red-faced between him and Robin while Steve is shaking his head at the way Billy is invading your personal space. Whatever group mission they're on has already derailed and you're at the center of it.

“Damn,” he says, his eyes dragging up and down your form “Gorgeous, every time.” His proximity forces you against the wall. 

“Billy boy,” Robin calls with a chuckle, “Ask.”

“Ask–?” you're interrupted as he takes your cheeks into his warm palms.

“Can I?”

Billy pulls you into a kiss, intense and greedy. He knows you want him just as much as he wants you. His mouth is warm, beer sour. His breath brushes your face as he turns that penetrating gaze into your eyes. 

“You liked that. Yeah?”

His words are buried under music for the others, but you hear him loud and clear, nose to nose as you are. You nod. 

“What did you wanna ask?” 

Your tone is distracted, and your brain goes fuzzy when he kisses you again, your back bumps into the wall and you hold his forearms. His friends are snickering behind him. 

“There goes the consent rule” Steve says. 

“Was that ever a stable subject for him?” Nancy adds. 

Billy picks you up and you straddle him, earning moans from the others which both of you ignore. Billy takes you somewhere, a playful grin spreading his lips as he carries you up the steps. He’s drunk, stumbling to the side a little, bumping you into the wall. The two of you laugh. 

“A little sloppy, huh?” You chide. 

He snickers, tossing you up against his chest, his hands gripping up under your skirt, the sudden violation elicits a startled, thrilling sound as you look down at him with renewed excitement. His eyes amused, daring you to doubt his control. 

“Yeah,” he says, “A bit.” 

Upstairs, the music slightly faded, the darkened hallway is sparse of bodies. The occasional mumbled voice from behind a closed door is all. Billy backs you against a wall and now your tongues have met. Your fingers play in his hair and his crotch is pushed against yours, warm and so close. This feeling is painfully good. The power of being that thing he wants to fuck. Radient with some golden honey men can smell. His tongue curls into your mouth to taste it, hands messaging your ass, his fingers rubbing the little strip of cloth covering your pussy. 

He moves to your neck, biting hard enough to startle you and then sucking, intent on leaving a mark as his hips grind into you. The hard curve of his tip bumps your clit and your hand tightens in his hair. He’s warm. His toned body between your legs, pressing you to the wall, his mouth against your neck, drawing moans without hardly trying. The pressure of him between your legs feels so sweet. So perfect. 

He moves his mouth to your cleveage, then pulls down your dress, exposing your tits, and in the moment between seeing your nipples and sucking them, words tumble from his lips which reach your ears at a delay. 

“Can I?” 

Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends a little surge right through your clit, a magic trick that makes you press his head in harder, urging his sucking and gently nibbling. 

“Fuck,” you breath, every little swivel of your hips grinds against his shaft, and he moans, switching to your other nipple. Footsteps on the stairs send a flush of raw nerves buzzing through you in a warm rush. “Someone’s coming.” 

Your words hushed against his ear only excite him more. The idea that someone will see the two of you- see you with your legs open for him, as close to fucking as kissing can get. 

“Billy,” you whisper. The people have reached the hall and you know they’ve spotted you, their loud voices drop to hushed tones. A flush of embarrassment makes you squirm against the wall, burying your face into his neck to hide. “Billy, please.” 

Finally, he listens. Abruptly, he takes your weight against him and continues down the hall, bursting into the first room you find unlocked. You find yourself tossed onto your back on a mess of blankets. Billy pulls off your panties, his eyes heavy with lust and focused on your nakedness as he stands back and takes off his jacket. 

“Fuck, baby,” his eyes trail up to your chest, and finally your face. He smirks. “Don’t look so nervous.” 

“I’m not,” you say, though your words are belied by the quiver in your voice. You prop yourself up on your elbows as Billy is crawling onto the bed, his hand falls to your lips, rubbing your wetness over them, staring down at the act like it’s just so beautiful. 

“Billy,” 

“Yeah?” 

He doesn’t look up. Transfixed as he is by the slow swirling. 

“What did you wanna ask me?” 

He pushes his middle finger inside, and as he does, as he’s sinking in past the first knuckle and you’re softening at the feeling- his lips part, a wisp of an exhale. Finally, he looks at you with those drunken, lover-boy eyes and all of you goes warm from the center of your stomach out.

“If I could kiss you,” he says, leaning closer, eyeing your mouth again, his weight sinking the mattress beside your hip. You feel like a small animal about to be eaten. You start to form words, but he’s so close, and just as you try he pushes in another finger. 

“Ask me? You didn’t–”

He’s kissing you, and his fingers are buried inside, curving into your flesh, pulling wetness out of you like fingering fruit. He groans and pulls back to look down. 

“Fuck,” he says, “I knew it. Fuckin knew you were like this.” 

He pulls harder, his fingers pushing hard and slow and every stroke brings more out of you, making you moan, turning your mouth onto his neck, your hands into his hair. You never do manage to answer the question. He never gets around to properly asking.

Hope you loved it ~