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pollard-zero · 2 hours

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Beware! Nsft!

How would the ROs (in a crushing stage) react to having a spicy dream about MC?

This is just...pure smut lmfaO

Rook:

This isn’t the first time, and he doesn’t think it’ll be the last. You beneath him, gasping, his own body pressing close to you. Your mouth on his, your moans being swallowed by the desperate kisses he gives you. His hands skim down bare skin, wanting more, so much more. More then you could ever give.

The way you say his name is everything he’s ever wanted. His mouth leaves yours, wandering down your neck, your shoulders, you neck, stomach, hips, to the spot right between your legs. You writhe against him, back arching and he takes far too much pleasure in the sound that gasps out your mouth.

An alarm sounds, somewhere, and he blinks awake. It takes too long to register where he is, considering how many times he’s had this dream. The flash of guilt isn’t as strong as the first time he’s had it, but it’s still there. Especially when he realizes how hard he still is, and the way your image is lodged into your brain.

He groans. A cold shower and enough mental screaming at himself will make it all go away. It’s not like the longing is as part of him as his own bloodstream.

Beck:

Everything is soft and hazy. He finds himself pressed against a couch or bed or somewhere soft. You lean over him, and he lifts his head, eyes tracing your every move. Your fingers dance down his face, ghosting his neck and he lets his eyes close.

“What do you want?” He breathes.

“You.” You say it so plainly, and he rises up to press his lips against yours. His hands wrap around your waist, and you settle on his lap. When your fingers thread through his hair, his fingers go under your shirt. He tugs on it and you pull away just long enough for him to take it off you.

His own shirt comes off and the feel of your skin against his is enough for him to moan your name, pleading. You press into him, and he says you name again and then—

The alarm on his phone goes off and his eyes open in a daze. His skin feels too warm and the blankets too heavy. He turns off his alarm sighs. He’s in deep now, isn’t he?

Rhea:

It starts so soft and innocent. The two of you are in a room that’s probably the Student Government meeting room. You slip into the seat next to her, resting your head on her shoulder. She means to shoo you away, before you distract her from whatever she’s doing.

Instead you nuzzle against her shoulder and she sighs. You take her hand, and she entwines her fingers against yours, “You’re distracting me.”

“I can distract you a little more.” Your voice is teasing before you kiss her cheek. She can’t help but laugh, trying to push you away as you rain kisses on her. But then she’s somehow against the wall, and your kisses aren’t on her face but her neck.

You pull at her, and her braid comes undone and falls around her. Your other hand trails down and slips between her legs. The moment you press down, she’s gone. Her hands grip onto your shoulders for purchase, grinding against your hand, the mounting pressure building.

You’re still laughing, murmuring how cute she looks coming undone. She’s so close to some kind of release.

Then her door flies open and Eloise is shouting she can’t find something and she’s painfully awake.

She grabs the nearest thing and throws it at the door. Hopefully her roommate thinks it’s because she’s upset at being woken up, and not notice how painfully red her face is, and how she wishes to vanish you from her mind.

Zoe:

Zoe’s never had strong feelings about sex. It’s something a lot of people do, and some people…don’t. It makes the way their throat catches foreign to them. You lean over them, face blurry against the backdrop of a blue sky and burning sun. Your fingers splay across their face and they nuzzle against it.

“Zoe.” You murmur, and they don’t question why the two of you are here, atop a hill with grass as soft as satin wrapping around your bodies. When you call their name, they only turn towards you, eyes fluttering closed as you brush a kiss against their lips.

It’s soft, warm. Their usual inhibition bleeds away. They reach a hand up, and pull you close. You nip at their lips, and they gasp away. With a soft laugh, you nuzzle against their neck, and they try to move away.

“Hey that tickles—” At least it does, until your teeth sink in. Heat ignites in their chest as they gasp. You press a kiss against it to sooth before curling up against their side.

The sky becomes dark all at once. Your hand traces circles against their side, “I want to touch you. Can I?”

Can you? No one has ever seen their body before, and they’ve never wanted someone to perceive it. But you? It feels so easy now, to do this with you. They rise, pulling at their shirt. Your hand stops them with a shake of your head. They relent, and let you pull it off them. Any embarrassment they expect doesn’t come, letting your eyes trace their body.

You lean forward again, and they catch you in their arms. Your hands on their skin feels nice. They want to sink into it. They want to sink into you. They won’t run from you. No matter what you want to do.

“Zoe! Mom said to get your ass up, it’s your turn for morning shift!” Zoe gasps awake, brain scattering as they bolt up in bed. Their brother raises an eyebrow at them, which they only meet with a throw of a pillow in their direction.

“I had my alarm set you heathen.” They grumble, heart beat racing. Why did they have that dream about you? It wasn’t like them to dream like that? They thought they might bury themselves into the earth today instead.

Lars:

Everything is loud and noisy, and he’s not sure who’s dragging the other to somewhere more secluded. There’s a shut of a door, he doesn’t think anyone will hear amongst the music and their own chatter. The two of you are pressed together, mouth against mouth, hands wandering across each other’s bodies.

He slots a leg between yours, swallowing your gasps at the sudden friction. His fingers are swift with the buttons of your jeans. Everything is a neon haze. You’re arching against him, desperate to be ever closer. He’s about to show you just how close you can be.

“Lars,” you manage to gasp, wrenching yourself away, “Someone could see us—”

“Scared?” He slips his hand beneath your waistband and you squirm, moving against his touch on instinct. “With how you feel, you seem more excited to get caught then anything.”

“No—I—” Your words fail you as he keeps going, eyes squeezing shut. You blindly reach for him, fumbling with his own pants, too lost in your own pleasure to do it right. Your hand finally manages to undo it, then—

He startles awake. The grey, early morning haze greets him. Lars isn’t sure what woke him up. It could have been even the slightest of sound. That doesn’t matter. He rubs a hand over his face.

“You can’t be fucking serious.” He groans. You in his dreams was bad enough, but like that? He couldn’t believe he’s already so far gone.

???:

How many times had they imagined your body? They’ve always wanted you to yield everything to them. Heart, soul, and body. The image of you laying so pretty and bare beneath them feels like a lifelong longing finally fulfilled. Their teeth has sunk into so many places, leaving marks and bruises all along your body. You’re begging for them, a type of release. They kiss your inner thigh, refusing to give you what you want.

They’ve wanted this for so long, they’re going to take their time with you. Their own pleasure hardly matters. They’re mapping out every inch of skin, cataloguing every expression your face can make. All of it. They want all of it and more.

“Please—” You gasp, “Please.”

Even your begging sounds like music to them. But not yet. Not quite. They rise up, bracing themself over you. Their hand traces the outline of your mouth. Your lips part, and they slip a finger inside, feeling you bite down, tongue brushing against it.

Their voice is a command, “You can’t just beg without stating what you want, my little moon. You have to tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

Your eyes open, and there’s the faintest flash of defiance in your eyes, even in this state. A thrill rushes through them. Oh, they love when you don’t make things easy. They love seeing you fight them, pressing you until you finally break down.

The soft nibbles turn into a hard bite. On instinct they yank their hand away, but really they feel the way their body shuddered at the sensation. You frown at them, and the next thing they know, you’re pulling them down. In a blink, you’ve switched position. You’re on top, legs on either side of them.

“What about you? What do you want?” Your hips grind into theirs and they suck in a breath.

“Everything. Every piece of you.” They reach out their hands to hold your waist, but you snatch them by the wrists and pin them down. The sensation makes them feel like their falling. And the feeling of falling wakes them up.

In the dark, they breathe hard. A hand is thrown over their eyes, thoughts scattered. You. You. You. God, they would do anything to have you.