#I hope their attempts blow up in their faces and they have to linger for a few more weeks

[pixiemage]

Multiple Hermitcraft video titles this week: "Trying to find a way home from Empires! :D"

Me: "I hope every attempt you make just fails instantly because lore"

[tini5]

In Paris, With You...

Pairing : Drew Starkey x Reader

Summary : What starts as a playful tease from your best friend, Timothée about a crush quickly turns into an unforgettable night. Being invited to the Loewe fashion show in Paris, leads you to get tangled in your sheets with Drew.

Themes : Fluff/Smut

Word Count : 4346

Note : I am apologizing in advance bc it's my first time writing a fic that long, along with first attempt at writing smut and for drew in general!!! I tried my best, even tho i think i wrote more about timmys and taylors relationship i hope you enjoy!! Not proofreaded!!

"I wish you would get invited to Loewe’s fashion show in Paris,” Timothée said, his lips curling into a playful smile as he picked at a piece of sushi on his plate. The familiar hum of the restaurant around you made the moment feel even more personal, like the world outside was a distant dream, a comfortable quiet between you, only interrupted by the clinking of plates as the waiter brought over a fresh round of sushi. 

Your place—our place, you thought—was a small, hidden sushi restaurant in New York, a cozy spot where you two came to unwind, laugh, and share stories you couldn’t share with anyone else. It was a place you and Timothée had claimed as your own since your careers first took off. A lot has changed since then. Starring in Luca Guadagnino’s movie “Challengers” and seeing your career take off at just 22, was truly amazing.  

He leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, narrowing them at you like he was about to reveal a grand secret. “That way, you could meet your lover boy,” he teased, adding a dramatic hand movements with his chopsticks.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the flush creeping up your neck. “You want me to go to Loewe’s show just because of Drew starkey? I don’t even like him like that.”

Timmy raised an eyebrow, the smirk widening. “Lies, lies, lies,” he sang, his voice dripping with mock accusation. You hated how well he knew you—sometimes better than you knew yourself.

“Whatever,” you muttered, stabbing at your own sushi defensively as you put down your chopsticks. “Do you know who’s the brand ambassador of Loewe?”

The shift in Timothée’s expression was instant, his face scrunching up in a mix of guilt and annoyance, as if he knew exactly where this conversation was heading. He sighed dramatically, but before he could stop you…-

“The most gorgeous woman you fumbled because of you know who – the one who shall not be named,” you said, letting the word her hang in the air, dripping with emphasis.

There was no need to explain further. He knew exactly who you meant. You watched as his shoulders sagged slightly, but the smirk stayed on his face, though now it was more resigned than mischievous.

“Low blow,” he muttered, and you both burst into laughter, the memory of his ill-fated relationship hanging between you like a shared joke.

Who knew that Timothée’s big mouth could sense the future? But here you were, sitting in a car, watching the skyline of Paris blur past as you headed toward Loewe’s fashion show. It was almost too surreal, the memory of that sushi restaurant conversation lingering in the back of your mind.

You glanced over at Timmy, who was typing something on his phone, his thumb moving in rapid, practiced motions. He looked up for a second and grinned. "See? I told you. Here we are, ready for your lover boy," he teased, leaning back in his seat, eyes glinting with mischief.

You couldn’t stop the eye roll that followed. "I swear, you have an obsession with that phrase. But we don't even know if he'll be there."

"You hope he’ll be there," Timmy quipped, nudging your shoulder playfullly.

You tried to suppress a smile, but it was useless. Yes, you hoped. Drew Starkey had become a quiet fixation in your mind—there was something about him that you couldn’t shake off. Maybe it was his blue eyes, his charisma, his –

Your hands smoothed over the fabric of your dress, custom-made by Loewe, every stitch and detail meticulously crafted to perfection. Jonathan Anderson had made sure it reflected not only the brand’s style but also you—soft yet bold, striking but elegant. You looked stunning, and you knew it. 

The car ride felt both too long and too short, your mind spinning with what-ifs. Timmy, noticing your quiet, serious for once, put his phone away and turned to face you. "Hey," he said gently. "We can ditch it if you want. No fashion show and no boy is worth you eating your nerves over."

You smiled softly at him. That was the thing about Timothée—he knew when to be playful, and he knew when to be serious. He knew you. "I know," you said, your voice quiet but steady. "But I’ll be fine. Besides, you’d be miserable if you missed the after party later.”

Timmy shrugged with a grin. "Yeah, you’re probably right. But seriously, if you want to go, we’ll go. If you want to leave, we’ll leave."

You appreciated that more than you could say, but instead of responding, you looked out the window. The car slowed to a stop, and the reality of the situation hit you. The cameras, the people, the flashing lights—it was all waiting just outside.

"Ready?" Timmy asked, holding out his hand like a knight in shining armor.

You took a deep breath and nodded, slipping your hand into his. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The fashion show itself was a whirlwind. Lights, camera flashes, the hum of conversation blending with the soft music in the background. But amidst the glamour, you were determined to keep your distance from Drew. Every time you caught a glimpse of his tall frame, you did your best to blend into the crowd and focus on the runway.

Timothée, couldn’t resist teasing you about Drew, his playful remarks making it even harder to stay composed. Despite your heart fluttering every time you heard his soft laugh, you managed to keep your cool, or at least you hoped you did.

The show itself was a visual feast, with stunning outfits by Loewe that left everyone in awe. Timothée was in his element, charming everyone he spoke to, effortlessly gliding through the crowd. Yet, you could tell he was also trying hard to avoid running into Taylor Russell. 

You couldn’t miss how his eyes flickered toward her now and then, a flash of something in his expression that only you could read. But you gave him space, knowing that whatever was going on between them was its own delicate web.

You exchanged polite smiles and laughed at jokes, did your best to keep up but your thoughts always circled back to one thing: Drew Starkey.

You both succeeded in your mission during the show. But as the show came to a close and the after-party beckoned, the sense of triumph was short-lived. 

The after-party was a different beast altogether. And there, at the heart of it, was Drew Starkey, mingling with his entourage and catching your eye from time to time. Despite your best efforts, you felt the electric pull of his gaze, the gravity of his presence impossible to ignore.

Timmy noticed, of course. "We can leave, you know, get a take out" he offered again as you both stepped into the car. But you shook your head, determined now. “Then stop worrying. He is not going to eat you.” Teased Timmy. 

Then it happened. As you sat at the table with Timothee, you saw Taylor Russell make her way through crowd. 

You quickly turned to Timothée, a note of urgency in your voice. “Timmy, don’t panic, but she’s coming over.”

Timothée’s eyes widened slightly as he turned to look at Taylor. His usual nonchalance faded into a look of mild panic. “You’re kidding,” he muttered, trying to keep his cool. “Why does she have to pick now to come over?”

And before you knew… - “Hello” – Tension shifted as Taylor greeted you with her ever the sweetest voice. 

“I’m going to grab a drink. I’ll catch up with you later.” you said, your voice carrying a light, reassuring tone. You shot him a quick look, raising an eyebrow. "I’ll kill you if you screw it up," you mouthed playfully, earning a quick smirk from him before you excused yourself to give them some privacy.

Making your way to the bar, you tried not to let your nerves overwhelm you. Just a drink, you thought. Just a quick drink, then I can blend into the background.

“One Cosmopolitan, please,” you told the bartender, just as a familiar voice from beside you made your heart skip a beat.

“It’s on me.”

You turned, and there he was—Drew Starkey, leaning against the bar with a whiskey in hand, looking as effortlessly cool as ever.

Your pulse quickened at the sound of Drew’s voice. He stood next to you, casually leaning on the bar like he belonged there—like he belonged everywhere. His tailored jacket hung off his broad shoulders as though it was designed for him alone. His eyes, that piercing blue you couldn’t forget, caught yours as he smiled—a lazy, confident grin that made your stomach do a flip.

“It’s on me,” he repeated, a little softer, his voice low enough to feel intimate despite the crowd around you.

Your heart stuttered, and for a split second, you forgot how to respond. All those times you’d fantasized about running into Drew Starkey in moments like this and now-  He was right there, buying you a drink, and you felt like a teenager all over again.

“Thank you” you finally managed, forcing the word out without sounding too flustered. But your face betrayed you, the warmth creeping up your neck and settling in your cheeks. You prayed the dim lighting would hide the blush.

The bartender slid your drink in front of you, and you lifted it to your lips, hoping the cool liquid would calm your nerves. But Drew was watching you—really watching you—and that made it impossible to relax. His eyes never left yours, and there was something about his gaze that made you feel both exposed and flattered at the same time.

“You look stunning, by the way,” Drew added, his voice velvety smooth, the compliment slipping out so easily it nearly disarmed you.

You blinked, trying to play it cool, but the way he said it made your heart race. "Thanks," you said again, "You’re not so bad yourself."

Drew chuckled, a deep sound that seemed to ripple through the air between you. His presence was intoxicating, almost as much as the drink in your hand. “I’ve been told,” he joked, his smile widening just enough to show a hint of mischief. Your lips tugged into a grin despite yourself. 

“So," he said, leaning in a little closer, his elbow brushing lightly against your arm as if testing your boundaries, "how are you enjoying Paris?”

A warm smile spread across your face, and you took a moment to gather your thoughts. “Paris is... well, it’s like coming home in a way,” you began, your voice tinged with affection. “Even though I grew up in the States, there’s something about this city that just feels incredibly familiar and comforting.”

You took a sip of your cosmopolitan, letting the flavors mingle with your emotions. “It’s the little things, you know? The way the light changes on the Seine, the scent of freshly baked pastries through the streets, It all feels so...Parisian. It’s like stepping into a world that’s both new and deeply personal at the same time.”

Drew’s smile widened, his expression softening, a genuine appreciation in his eyes. “I can see how much this city means to you. It sounds like you’re really embracing the magic of Paris.”

You nodded, a playful smile tugging at your lips“So the Queer, huh?” you asked, your tone light and teasing. Drew’s chuckle was light and warm, making you smile even more. “So the Challengers, huh?”

You both laughed, the easy banter between you making the moment feel effortless and natural. 

“So, how was working with Luca? I know how he gets sometimes.” 

His eyes lit up at the mention of Luca’s name, and you couldn’t help but smile warmly. “Luca is incredible. He’s not just a director; he’s like a creative force of nature. it’s like he has this unique ability to bring out the best in everyone he works with.”

You leaned in slightly, enjoying the conversation. “Oh, absolutely. Luca has this way of making you feel like you’re part of something truly special. I’ve learned so much from him. He’s like a father figure to me.”

Drew’s gaze was warm and appreciative, “Its sweet how full of love you are.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, is that so? But enough about Luca. What about you, Drew? What’s your creative magic like?”

Drew’s smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. “My magic? Well, I’d say it’s more about finding the right moments to create something special. And right now, I think the real magic is happening here.” He gestured between the two of you with a teasing grin.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what makes you say that?”

Drew leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Well, I have to say, talking to you is a highlight of my night. You’ve got this incredible energy that’s hard to resist. And I’m not just talking about your career.”

A soft laugh escaped you, and you could feel the flirtatious tension between you growing. “Is that so? I must admit,you’ve got a way of making me feel special.”

Drew’s eyes met yours with a look that was both sincere and playful. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s not every day I get to chat with someone as fascinating and pretty as you”

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his words. “Well, I’m glad I could make an impression” 

Drew’s smile grew, his gaze held yours, But before either of you could continue, the moment shattered.

“Drew? What took you so long?”

Odessa’s voice sliced through the comfortable haze you and Drew had created, and the tension in the air shifted immediately. 

You didn’t have to turn around to know it was her—the sharpness in her tone was unmistakable. Drew’s shoulders stiffened slightly, and though his smile didn’t completely fade, it wasn’t as easygoing as before.

Odessa was stunning, of course—there was no denying that But there was something about her presence that felt... strange. Maybe it was the way she looked at you, her eyes flicking up and down, sizing you up in a single sweep. 

Her expression betraying a hint of impatience. “I was just about ready to head out. Are you not coming?”

Drew turned to her, his face a mixture of apology and concern. “Oh, right. I just got caught up in a conversation here. I’ll be right out in a moment, go wait outside okay?”

Odessa’s eyes flicked to you with a mixture of curiosity and something sharper—perhaps jealousy. She gave you a curt nod. “Nice to meet you.”

You offered a polite smile, trying to keep the interaction friendly despite the underlying tension. “Nice to meet you too, Odessa.”

Drew’s gaze returned to you, and there was a softness in his eyes that made your heart flutter. “I really enjoyed talking with you. I’m sorry –

You nodded, feeling a mix of disappointment and understanding. “It’s okay. I hope you both have a good night.”

Drew’s smile was tinged with regret as he leaned in slightly, his voice low and sincere. “I’ll text you.”

With a final, lingering glance, Drew turned and walked away ,leaving you with a swirl of emotions. You watched him disappear into the crowd before taking a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest.

You downed the rest of your cosmopolitan in one go, hoping the drink would steady your nerves. Pulling out your phone, you quickly texted Timothée, letting him know you were heading out.

As you made your way to the Uber pickup area, you could feel the mix of excitement building inside you. Just as you settled into the backseat of the car, your phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from Drew. 

Drew: I couldn’t stop thinking about our conversation. I’d love to continue it… 

You: 44.

You: It’s my hotel room number. 

You: Don’t make me wait. 

The Uber ride back to your hotel was a blur. Your heart hadn’t stopped pounding. 

You leaned your head against the window, watching the lights of Paris blur past as the adrenaline surged through your veins. 

Stepping out of the car and you hurried your way up to your hotel room. Part of you wondered what you were getting yourself into, but the other part—the part that had been down bad for Drew Starkey since the moment you saw him—couldn’t resist the temptation.

And then, finally, not too long after you entered your room, a soft knock was heared.  You froze for a moment, staring at the door, before gathering yourself and opening it.

Drew’s eyes were dark, intense, but his smile was soft, disarming. He stepped inside, the door closing quietly behind him, and suddenly the air between you felt charged, thick with anticipation.

“You really sent me your room number,” he said, voice low, teasing, as he leaned against the wall, watching you with that same amused glint in his eyes.

You shrugged, trying to keep it light, though your heart was racing a mile a minute. “I figured you’d appreciate the direct approach.”

Drew laughed softly, stepping closer, his gaze flicking over you like he was taking in every little detail. “I do,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I really do.”

The touch of his fingers on your skin sent a shiver through you, and before you knew it, you were standing impossibly close, the space between you shrinking with every breath.

“Do you know how hard it was to not look at you all night?” he asked, his voice warm against your skin, his lips just inches away from yours. “You were all I could think about.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled over you, your heart pounding louder in your ears. You looked up at him, eyes wide, and for a moment, all the nervous energy melted away.

“I noticed,” you whispered, barely able to keep the teasing out of your voice.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your cheek, his breath warm against your ear. “Good.”

Before you could respond, his lips found yours, soft but deliberate, like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had. The kiss was slow at first, testing the waters, but when you kissed him back, everything else melted away. It was just you and Drew, the rest of the world fading into the background as his hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer.

Time seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, your hands instinctively finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your lips tingling from the intensity of it all.

Drew leaned his forehead against yours, his breath ragged, his hands still holding you close. "I've wanted to do that for a while," he admitted, his voice low, almost a confession.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his words. "So have I."

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing into his in a kiss that was nothing like the first—a kiss filled with longing and heat. Drew responded instantly, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. His lips moved over yours with urgency, as if he’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

You moaned softly into his mouth, and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. He backed you toward the bed, his lips never leaving yours, his hands roaming over your body, sending sparks of desire everywhere they touched. You stumbled slightly, your legs hitting the edge of the bed, and you pulled him down with you, the both of you collapsing onto the mattress in a tangled heap of limbs.

Drew’s body hovered over yours, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His hands, now more confident, slid up the sides of your body, teasing the hem of your shirt before pulling it up and over your head in one smooth motion. The cool air against your skin contrasted sharply with the heat radiating off his body, and you felt a rush of anticipation as his gaze darkened, his lips quirking up in appreciation.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

Your breath hitched as his lips found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You arched into him, the sensation of his mouth on you sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your body. He worked his way lower, his fingers deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside before his lips closed around your nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin.

A soft moan escaped your lips, and Drew groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. He moved with purpose now, his hands sliding down your sides, tugging at your pants until they were nothing but a heap on the floor. Every touch, every kiss, felt like fire, like he was branding you with his desire.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered against your skin, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver through you.

You reached up, pulling him closer, your lips crashing into his once more. The kiss was frantic now, filled with need and desperation. 

Before you knew it, Drew had shed his own clothes, his body pressed against yours, skin on skin, the heat between you almost unbearable. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, like he was trying to memorize the feel of you. And when he finally slid his hand between your thighs, teasing you, you gasped, your body arching into him, silently begging for more.

“Drew,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, laced with need.

He smirked against your lips, his fingers dipping lower, sliding inside you with a slow, deliberate motion that had you seeing stars. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he worked you, his thumb circling your sensitive spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop…”

“Then don’t”, Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling beneath him, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. And just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled his fingers away, leaving you aching and desperate for more.

You let out a frustrated whimper, but Drew silenced you with a heated kiss, his body pressing down against yours as he positioned himself between your thighs. The moment stretched out, the anticipation crackling in the air, before he finally pushed inside you, filling you completely. You gasped, your head falling back against the pillows as the sensation overwhelmed you.

Drew groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, teasing you, making you crave more. Your hands slid up his back, your nails digging into his skin as you urged him to go faster, your body meeting his with every thrust.

The pleasure built quickly, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. Drew’s pace quickened, his breathing ragged in your ear as he drove you both closer and closer to the edge. Your body was a live wire, every nerve ending on fire as he pushed you higher, the pressure building inside you until it was almost unbearable.

“Drew,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

He responded with a deep groan, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate as he chased his own release. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, you shattered, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling beneath him as you cried out his name.

Drew followed soon after, his body tensing above you as he found his own release, a deep groan of satisfaction rumbling in his chest. He collapsed beside you, both of you panting, your bodies slick with sweat, still reeling from the intensity of it all.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the room filled only with the sound of your ragged breathing. Then Drew turned to you, a lazy, satisfied smile playing on his lips as he reached out, pulling you against his chest.

“I think I’m gonna need your room number more often,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion and contentment.

You laughed softly, your body still buzzing from the aftermath of everything that had just happened. “I think I can arrange that.”

With that, you curled up against him, your head resting on his chest, your heart still racing as you drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, the feeling of Drew’s arms wrapped around you the last thing you remembered. 

And just like that, as you drifted into sleep, one thought lingered:

"Sometimes, love isn’t about chasing a fairy tale or clinging to the past. It’s about embracing the unexpected, even if it’s wrapped in a Loewe suit and a pair of smoldering eyes that see right through you."

TMZ_TV : Last night’s Loewe show was nothing short of spectacular! From jaw-dropping designs to unforgettable moments, the runway was on fire. 🔥

🌟 Y/N L/N stunned in a custom Loewe creation by Jonathan Anderson, embodying elegance and innovation. Meanwhile, Drew Starkey’s sleek Loewe suit had everyone talking.

👀 The real buzz? The chemistry between them at the afterparty! The night was filled with high fashion and even higher drama. 💫

Swipe to see the highlights and catch up on the latest fashion gossip! 💃🕺

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I am very nervous!! Hope you liked it and i did not disappoint you...

[cowboygenesis]

18+ knuckle up | astarion x reader

summary: after a drunken night and a dumb bet you're left in an emotional (and physical) chokehold by your favourite vampire companion.

pairing: astarion ancunin x afab!bard!reader tags: 18+, smut, fluff, switch dynamics, m/f, fingering, unprotected sex, resolved tension, playfighting, sex after training session. word count: 7.8k notes: this fic was SO fun to write even if im a gale girlie myself. this is my first attempt at writing ANY bg3 character, so i really hope i did okay. if not, let me know! comments help me improve my writing (and warm my heart, seriously, thanks to anyone taking the time out of their day to comment). anyways gang, no beta as ALWAYS, you know how we roll. ENJOY! masterlist.

It still made little sense to you.

You had honed your skills at the most prestigious music schools in Faerûn for years, pouring your heart into every note, every chord, only to find yourself shamelessly ridiculed for an entirely different kind of performance. And by a man you’d grown to like, no less.

"Get up, darling," Astarion’s voice drips with amusement, the self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips with infuriating smugness. His crimson eyes watch you with a predatory glint, locking onto your vulnerable form sprawled in the dirt—a definitive result of his frustratingly agile moves.

You groan lowly, propping yourself up on bruised elbows, wincing as a dull ache pulses through your body. A stray lock of hair falls in front of your face, and you blow it away in frustration.

"I’m starting to think this isn’t educational at all." You glare at him with all the venom you can muster, eyebrows furrowed as his arms cross.

Your eyes absentmindedly scan down his body, taking note of his slightly disheveled shirt and tousled hair. He looks… good. Beautiful, even. Basking in the soft moonlight seeping through the vast greenery above, he stands there like he’s in his element.

He chuckles, seemingly unbothered by your vapid tone. "Oh, but it is, my dear. Think of it as a new, humbling experience. Valuable in its own right."

You bite back a retort as he offers you a hand, his expression making your eye twitch. You never thought you’d fall for arrogance, yet ironically it’s your own conceit that might have brewed your upcoming downfall.

After a particularly boisterous night of drinking in camp—brought on by the recent victory over a pack of gnolls—you foolishly accepted Astarion’s challenge to best him in hand-to-hand combat. Your alcohol-addled brain had been more confident than your body, and now, after a series of harsh jabs and sidesteps, you were being taught the harsh reality of “real” combat.

Defeated, you eventually obliged a quick lesson from the master himself, which he had (admittedly suspiciously) made you take after losing your bet.

At the very least, the bruising would rid you of your lingering hangover once you were done taking the thrashing. Plus, you hoped it would bring you two closer. Figuratively and physically.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your hesitation. "Come now, my dear, don’t be so stubborn. You seemed so eager at first,"

"You told me you’d teach me to fight, not fall on my damn face," you lament, but begrudgingly accept his help, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

His grip is firm, and the coolness of his skin sends a small jolt of electricity down your spine. You had often imagined what holding his hand would feel like during the colder nights alone in your tent, and while the circumstances ended up being less than ideal, it was good enough for you. For now.

You rub at your sore arm with a frown and catch that Astarion, unmistakably, stands completely unscathed, his pale complexion almost glowing in the ambient light.

"I’m thinking…” he muses, glancing at the weathered lyre resting peacefully by the roots of a tree. His lips curl into a smirk, and you can feel the teasing jab sting your pride. “Perhaps you’re better suited to the more... delicate aspects of life,"

Your jaw clenches. While bards famously went underestimated— a fact you were reminded of frequently— it hurt more coming from someone you so badly wanted to fuck.

"Oh, I don’t know," you say with a saccharine tone, brushing the residual dirt from your pants; your favorite pair, yet you’d probably end up having to toss them out after your poor performance today. "I think a harp string could make a fine garrote in the right hands."

Astarion’s laughter rings out clearly, and your heart skips a beat unbeknownst to you. "Dully noted. Fortunately for the both of us, we’re stripped of any weaponry in our current pinnacle."

Your eyes roll, running a hand through your disheveled, sweat-slick hair and adjusting your posture to the one he had taught you: one foot forward, back straight.

"Again," you demand, squaring your shoulders. If he wanted to mock you, fine— but you wouldn’t go down without a proper fight.

Astarion’s eyes widen, but his smirk never falters. He sighs in faux exasperation but quickly matches your posture. "So eager to be tossed into the dirt again, darling."

Your face flashes with heat at his painfully languid remark, your mind going places it probably shouldn’t. You knew the pet names were simply an inherent part of his vocabulary and that he used them generously, with everyone, yet a part of you liked to imagine they were reserved for you, and you only.

“Try me again,” you reply curtly, lowering your gaze as you feel the tension sprawling through your aching body.

He shoots you an arrogant smirk, his gaze penetrating your soul with an intensity you didn’t think possible. He bares his fangs, licking over his bottom lip lazily. “Let’s see it, then.”

Astarion approaches, but this time, you’re ready. As he moves to close the distance, you anticipate the first jab, ducking low before he can catch you off-guard. You dart to the side, aiming a swift thrust toward his midsection. It’s clumsy and unpracticed, but it seems to work.

Your fist connects with his toned stomach. He topples off-balance, but only for a fleeting second. His reflexes are too sharp, too honed through his century-long life for you to overcome with your pitiful attempt.

He catches himself with a graceful pivot, turning the stumble into a curt spin that has him facing you once more.

"Fast learner, are we?" he muses, watching you closely through his fists. "I might actually have to try now."

"Don’t flatter yourself," you shoot back, heart racing. At that moment, you recognize you can’t win. Not this time, probably not the next. But you don’t want to forfeit, even if it means enduring a day or two of terrible muscle soreness.

Every sidestep, every deflected blow, brings you closer, the air between you growing heavy with static. You aren’t sure if it’s the heat of the fight or the dangerous proximity, but you can feel it—an irresistible, undeniable pull.

"Careful now," Astarion purrs as you barely miss his face with a rugged swing. He catches your wrist, holding it tight as he leans in, breath ghosting over your ear. "You wouldn’t want to harm me, would you?"

You swallow hard, your body tensing under his tight grip. The closeness is intoxicating, but you force yourself to stay focused, pushing back against the growing heat in your chest.

"Maybe I would." You don’t.

For a moment, neither of you move. The world seems to narrow, the charged atmosphere thick with tacit suspense. You can feel your pulse hammering in your throat, senses sharp, attuned to every breath he takes as they intermingle with yours.

"Darling," a dramatic pout creeps onto his lips, only to be replaced by a sly grin seconds later. You feel his grip on your wrist loosening just enough for you to slip free. It’s a calculated move, once he grants you himself. "You wound me with your words."

You take a step back, breathless. This isn’t over, not by a long shot, yet your muscles fight against that thought. They scream at you with pain, worn and stretched by what feels like hours of sparring.

“Sounds like you’re the one trying to wound me,” you taunt, shooting him a lowered gaze. “Why’d you take me out here? Trying to make your next kill less obvious?”

The vampire had insisted you two train away from the bustle of camp, even if it meant missing out on tonight’s feast. While the rest of your companions enjoyed the finest ale Baldur’s Gate could offer, you were stuck trying to prove something to your crush.

Astarion's grin widens, his eyes flashing with amusement as he takes a slow, calculated step forward. “Now, now,” he purrs, voice dripping with mock innocence. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have seen it coming— no need for childish theatrics.”

You hold his gaze, refusing to let him see the slight tremble in your legs from the strain of the sparring—or maybe it’s from something else entirely, you can’t be sure. You know he’s dangerous, that this game you’ve been playing with him has always had its sharp edges. But there’s something about that edge, about the way he dances so easily between teasing and threatening, that weakens your knees and makes you breathless every damn time.

"Then why are we here?" you challenge, taking a step back to match his forward one. Your voice is steady, but your pulse is hammering in your throat. The woods feel like a world apart from camp, the sounds of chatter distant as you sit in your isolated little bubble of the world. “It’s a little… intimate, don’t you think?”

Astarion tilts his head, studying you with a curious twinkle in his crimson eyes. “That sharp tongue again,” he says quietly, “Do you truly believe I’d go through all the trouble of bringing you out here just to end you? If I wanted your death, I’d make it enjoyable for both of us.”

Your breath catches at his words. His words drip with venom, but somewhere deep down, in the depths of his blackened heart, you swear you feel an instance of temptation.

“What’s the game then?” you ask, holding his gaze despite the anxiety twisting in your chest. “Because by the Gods, I know you love those.”

Astarion’s smirk softens, but the intensity in his eyes never falters. He steps closer again, until there’s barely any space between you, his presence intoxicating. “Maybe I just wanted to see what you’re capable of,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. “Maybe I wanted to see how far you’d let me push you before you push back.”

His hand hovers near yours, fingers brushing lightly against your skin, but he doesn’t make full contact.

“And maybe,” he continues, leaning in just enough that his breath grazes your cheek, “I’m curious what could happen once we both stop playing.”

Your heart is racing now, and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the sparring or the charged air between you that’s making your head spin a hundred miles an hour.

“You’ll never know,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with a boldness you don’t quite feel. “Because I’m not backing down from this.”

His grin widens at your rebellion, and with a swift, fluid motion, the man’s playful smirk turns into a vicious one. Before you can react, he spins you around, movements smooth and practiced, making you lose your balance.

Your back hits his chest, and within seconds he wraps one arm around your neck in a tight headlock— his grip is firm, but not painful. Your mind strays to his other arm, feeling it press against your waist to keep you securely against him.

“Such a feisty little thing,” he purrs into your ear, his breath warm against your sweat-slick skin.

You struggle against his hold, trying to twist free, but his grip is relentless. “Fuck you,” you manage to scowl, though the words are strained by the pressure on your throat.

Astarion chuckles softly, and you feel it reverberate through your body. “Oh, she bites back,” he teases, his voice a dark, seductive buzz. “Are you taunting me, darling?”

You try to shift your weight, to find a way out of the headlock, but his grip doesn’t waver. “You’re projecting,” you growl breathlessly.

“And you’re persistent,” he replies, “Suits you well.”

You feel a warmth spread through your belly, tickling your nerve endings and making your thighs squeeze. You thank the Gods he can’t see your flustered face right now.

And suddenly, he releases. Not fully, but his grip weakens enough to allow you a moment to slip out again, stumbling over your own feet as you face him.

“Here’s your second freebie,” he chuckles, getting into position again. “Careful, next one might come at a price.”

“Like I need a third one,”

You recalibrate, then in the spur of the moment, pounce. Your arms extend as they barrel toward him. His eyes widen, but he manages to catch them mid-air; his hands clasping into yours and pushing against you.

“Fair strategy,” he commends, and you sense it might at least be partially earnest. “Desperate, but fair.”

You strain against him, breath hitching when he periodically pushes back. Whenever he does, you feel his gaze boring into you with a crazed intensity.

Then, you try not to think about the fact your digits fit together really damn well— and fail. Take what you can get, right?

“What’s wrong, my dear?” he sneers, slender fingers tightening around your palm. He leans in, your chests threatening to collide. “Getting distracted?”

You grit your teeth, leaning in with your full body weight, but he barely budges. “You wish,” you shoot back breathlessly.

“I feel it,” he corrects in a whisper, leaning in just enough that his lips hover dangerously close to your ear. “It’s in your eyes. You’re not even thinking about our little lesson anymore, are you?”

Your breath hitches at his words, the undoubted truth in them cutting through the haze in your mind. He’s right. The bet, your lesson —somewhere along the lines, your sparring posture went lax. All that matters to you now is the palpable closeness, your hands in his, and his hot, idle breath on your neck. Your throat threatens to cast a strained groan, but you withhold.

“I—” you start to protest, but your voice falters. His chest is now pressed flush against yours, pushing you forward.

“Admit it,” he murmurs, his voice low, seductive. “And I’ll let you win.”

Your hands tremble in the small space they lock with his, the smoldering red of his gaze telling you he knows exactly what he’s doing—how his actions leave you a mess in body and soul.

“I won’t, I— I can’t,” you manage to stutter, but the words sound weak and unconvincing even to your own weary ears.

He chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through you like a slow current. “Liar,” he whispers, and you catch a glimpse of his pearly fangs in your hazed peripherals. “Not a good one, either. Another thing I should school you on.”

Your eyes roll, but the implication accelerates the growing tension within your guts. “Just how generous you are.”

His head tilts gradually, and you go pale as you catch his tongue running along the length of his bottom lip.

“No, darling,” he purrs, “I haven’t shown you generous just yet.”

And then, you catch his eyes darkening. There’s a certain mania to them when they widen, pupils blown out like a cat’s when he suddenly pushes firmly against you. Your feet stumble backward, staring into him as a wild grin plasters on his face.

You yelp when you lose balance, lips ajar and eyes closed shut as you feel your back crash into something soft, or at least, soft enough to leave you un-bruised.

When your eyes flutter open, he’s on top of you. You study his broad shoulders, the pale neck between them, and finally let your half-lidded gazes connect in a silent, tension-filled juncture.

The ambiance of dusk quiets down to a soft murmur, crickets chirping in the distance as his strong body hovers inches above you, hands placed firmly around your wrists to successfully lock you in place.

“Seems to me you’ve lost our little bet,” he purrs out, and your breath hitches as one of his legs slides between yours, slowly inching to put a distance between your knees.

All you can do is stare up at him hungrily, desperately, drinking in his weathered features and pray he’d let you run your fingers through his flaxen locks at some point in the night.

“No clever retort? That’s not the little bard I know and love,” he teases, and your hips almost buck into him at that one word. You know he doesn’t mean it, yet your teeth still clench when your body jolts in response to his familiar lilt.

“You’re playing dirty,” you finally breathe out, cringing at how strained your voice sounds as you lie under his weight.

“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” he retorts, his crimson gaze boring into you before gradually disappearing into your neck.

His lips hover over your skin, hot breath tickling the soft spot near your pulse point as you gasp quietly. You feel him hesitate, arms tensing and releasing over your own as if soaked in apprehension. You strain your muscles, eyes shutting in preparation for the inevitable, sharp bite coming onto your poor vein. Gods, was this his plan all along?

But then, you feel the grip on your wrists loosen.

Your eyes flutter open, and you quickly catch the tousled white locks in your neck as the vampire looms over you.

“Here’s your chance to run,” he hitches, and somehow he sounds just as out of breath as you do.

You lie on the blanket of moss, chest heaving and gaze tracing languidly over the treeline as you feel your body go limp. He’s giving you one last opt-out before… before something happens, be it a bloody massacre or... Or?

Your mind shrieks at you: take advantage, prove yourself on top in this stupid bet— but the little voice in your heart urges you to stay under his firm body; find out if your instincts rang true after all.

You stay. Not only that, but you let your hands slip out of his, one of them snaking down his shoulder while the other runs through his waves. They’re silky, and soft, and when you catch a whiff of rosemary in the air, your grip tightens.

“Astarion,” you whisper, voice surprisingly steady as your heart beats a constant rhythm into the space between you.

His body jerks abruptly, albeit subtly, and you feel him smirking— smiling— into the soft flesh of your neck. “So I was right, after all.”

His face withdraws from you slightly, the residual condensation of his warm breath leaving you shivering. You catch his gaze, half-lidded and scanning your expression with apt concentration.

“Feisty, spirited little thing,” he continues, inching towards you again.

Your stiff body jerks, grazing against him as your shaky hand snakes to his cheek. You cradle it gently but with urgency, and there’s a beat of silence before you finally understand what to do.

You inhale softly, catch his questioning gaze, and crash your lips onto his.

He groans softly when you meet in the middle, lowering himself with his arms. Your chest thrums with the beat of your heart, shooting waves of dopamine down your worn spine.

When you feel his nimble hand on your jaw, your lips part with a sigh. He matches your buzz with his own self-satisfied murmur, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

You smile. He’s sweet and bitter, and you whine gently into the kiss when you recognize brandy on his tongue.

This is what you’ve been waiting for all these lonesome months.

The culmination dawns on you like a powerful current, making your eyes squeeze and your hands tremble in his waves.

He seems to notice your tremor, but instead of slowing down or (Gods forbid) stopping, he dives deeper. You moan into his mouth as he wriggles a hand around your waist, holding you close to his hips and suddenly, you feel a steady pressure grinding into your crotch.

The movement is slow, precise, practiced. His hips buff into yours in a controlled rhythm, making you sense his already taut erection through the thick material of his linen pants.

“Do you get it now, darling?” he murmurs, breaking the kiss to stare lazily into your glassy eyes. “Look what you do to me.”

His hand snakes to your blouse, and before you can register what’s happening, you hear three ivory buttons pop off followed by the cool, evening breeze tickling your heated skin. You don’t need to open your eyes to know your nipples are standing taut in the chilly air, yet the image makes you redden.

“How— how unceremonious,” you croak out, moaning softly when his large hand begins palming at your right breast.

His thumb and forefinger squeeze at your erect nipple, toying with it in smooth, tactile movements and relishing the way his name sounds coming out of your kiss-swollen lips.

“Mm, forgive me,” he chuckles darkly, planting a quick, ardent kiss on your lips before lowering his face to your chest. His tongue licks a slow, tender strip up your sternum before he looks up to smile at you; it’s a genuine look of satisfaction, untouched by the plague that is his faux arrogance. “I’ll make sure to be good next time.”

’Next time?’

You look at him lazily, gaze puzzled and lips ajar to ask but he doesn’t even offer you the chance. His hand dips from your tits to the band of your pants, sliding underneath it with his finger, the coolness of his skin making you gasp.

His mouth assaults your other nipple with sucks, nibbles, and gentle bites, making you mewl under him as his hand continues to travel down the soft flesh of your thigh. He rubs it gently, lovingly, starting under your hip and slowly stroking his way toward the inner region, where you’re most sensitive.

“Divine,” he mumbles against your chest, pressing a kiss to your rib. “So divine.”

His free palm moves to your exposed belly, massaging it gently. You sigh at the slow, consistent pressure, moving your trembling hand to the back of his neck.

When your one eye pops open in curiosity, you see him snug against your body, face contorted with empathic fixation as he labors down your body. It’s intimate, yes, but also… loving. His tongue is warm against your breast, and his palms caress your skin with slow, delicate strokes; the same hands you’ve seen wield blood-soaked daggers and longbows.

He runs two digits along the stretchy fabric of your bottoms, lip caught between his teeth. He catches you staring and smirks up at you.

“Enjoying yourself?” he husks out, and you’re desperate enough to nod wordlessly.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, hand smoothing down the waistband of your panties that peers from behind your bottoms. Not even your cutest pair, but oh well. He doesn’t even seem to notice, as his digits play with the elastic.

You’re already so exposed, but nothing can prepare you for what he does next.

With a few more kisses to your breasts, he tugs at the two waistbands, pulling down your pants and panties in one go.

The material slides off your legs and you hiss out, feeling the coolness caress your slick core. Your hands instinctively reach to cover up, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a strong grasp around your wrist.

“Oh no, no,” He looks up at you with an arched eyebrow, and somehow, despite his collected mien, you catch a soft dusting of pink across his cheekbones. “Don’t you dare deny me this view. Not after I’ve waited for so long.”

Your face heats up at the brazen comment, but that only seems to draw him closer. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and he takes the hint immediately.

You connect in a heated kiss, and this time, Astarion is the one groaning against you. You work in tandem, like a gentle, effortless dance, heavy breaths intermingling in a sweet symphony of hums and sighs when…

You feel a touch against your heat. The contact is almost impalpable, yet your eyes flutter open in shock as the man’s fingers trace over your slit.

He withdraws from your kiss, hovering inches from your lips with a soft smile.

“S’unfair,” you slur, gazing up at him with a pleasure-drunken gaze. He exhales loudly, and you gasp. His fingers dip in, rubbing slow circles around your clit. “You— Gods—”

“Yeah? Tell me,” he taunts lowly, continuing his torturously languid movements with a devious smirk plastered on his perfect face. “What’s got you so bothered, my sweet?”

He dips down, teasing your entrance with his index. You pant softly at the prolonged stimulation, trying your damn best to stay focused on furrowing your eyebrows in mock anger.

“Got me so exposed and—” you trail tensely as his finger probes your entrance. “—And you’re still in your damn clothes.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but you doubt he’s even listening to you by how he surveys your body, bottom lip caught between his fangs. “I’m about to show you ‘generous’, like I promised.”

And then, he bottoms out. You moan, feeling two of his digits sliding into you, the slickness of your opening making it an easy feat.

You squeeze around him, and he pumps into you once, then twice for good measure. The sound of his movements is unbelievably and utterly obscene, making your stomach knot in delight.

“So wet already,” he purrs through a smirk, watching you writhe under him, “Don’t tell me our little sparring session got you this bothered.”

You roll your eyes, thighs squeezed tight around his wrist as you move your hips in tandem with his rhythm.

“Come on, talk to me,” he taunts again, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and letting his fingers fuck you in a steady, purposeful rhythm. “Now’s not the time to get coy.”

He switches gears, stopping his movement so he can curl his fingers inside you. He presses against the sweet spot, his thumb reaching to simultaneously rub slow circles against your swollen clit.

You cry out at the newfound pressure, the warmth in your belly twisting into a vortex of fiery delight.

“I—” you mewl against him, wrapping your fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. “I’m gonna— c-cum—”

His movements quicken at your desperate words, digits working hard against your favorite spot.

“Cum then, my darling,” he taunts firmly, his free hand roaming under your jaw and holding it in place. “Cum for me. Let me— let me look at you, sweet thing.”

Your glassy eyes struggle to focus on his face, but once they do, he hits something white-hot inside you.

His lips crash desperately onto yours, but you struggle to kiss him back through the blinding pleasure of your climax. It thunders down your legs, up your belly, making you cry out against his mouth as everything melts away into a wonderful oblivion.

The last thing you see before your muscles go lax is red.

He rubs your clit methodically through your high, letting you ride it out peacefully as he burrows into your neck again.

When your breath steadies, you feel his fingers slowly withdraw. The emptiness that follows makes you cry out softly, helplessly watching as the man runs his palms up and down your sides.

He presses a soft, soothing kiss against your swollen lips, and you can’t help but glare when you see that he’s still fully dressed, even after your heated orgasm.

He catches your pouting and raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, darling?” he purrs, pulling away to take you all in. You’re caught speechless when his hungry gaze scans down your nude body; starting at your smitten face and ending with a lingering glimpse at your spent pussy.

“Please,” you mewl out, raking your hands down his clothed abs. “Gods— Please take these off, I can’t—”

He does.

His hands momentarily withdraw from around you, and with a swift, deft move, he tosses his shirt off.

The silken cloth comes flying into the night like a phantasmal figure, and you watch it catch onto a stray branch to your right.

Your gaze skims hungrily down his sculpted body, watching his muscles tense and release with every little movement. Yes, you’ve seen him shirtless before, yet the context of your current predicament somehow makes it feel like it’s the first time all over again.

Unbeknownst to you, his hands work at his bottoms, swiftly unbuttoning the waistband and letting it sit loose against his hips. You catch a soft, white trail against the edge of his undergarments, leading down to a straining, tented mess below.

Your hand reaches out absent-mindedly, still drunk off the high of your climax and so, so desperate to finally feel him for yourself.

“Not so fast, darling,” he scolds, gently slapping your hand away and letting it wither at your side.

“Let me touch you,” you retort desperately, but he only chuckles as his fingers begin working at his waistband.

“You lost our bet,” he explains, sliding a thumb under the elastic and letting it lower. You catch the very base of his straining erection, and that taunting alone makes you gasp. “Gives me the upper hand.”

“Says who?” you hiss under your breath, failing to give him the glare he deserves as your eyes bore into his.

He gives you a once over, gaze drawing languidly over your exposed body, and only then does the extent of your nudity finally dawn on you.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

You shift under him, shimmying within the small space he allows, and he takes your brief distraction as a moment to unravel his pants completely. They drop to the ground behind you, leaving him in his undergarments, and you bite your lip at how dangerously lax they sit around his hips.

“I think I’ve left you waiting long enough,” he mutters, and your lips go ajar.

The thumb hooked into his briefs starts sliding down his waist, lower and lower until you’re finally even in terms of undress— and you’re ever so starstruck by the sight of his bulging cock hovering over your belly. It stands thick and taut within arm’s reach and you find the fact makes your mouth water.

Then, before you can think of touching him, you feel him place either hand below your knees. He looks up at you with a sly smirk, and you gasp softly when he pushes your thighs flat against your torso, feet in the air and scandalously exposed in front of him.

“You’re playing with me,” you mutter breathlessly, hissing as you feel his length stroking against your inner thigh.

His arms compress you tighter as you feel him lowering, the underside of his cock slapping against your tummy. The gasp that leaves your throat at the sudden contact widens your eyes, and he catches your gaze with his self-satisfied one.

“Do you like that I’m playing with you?” he follows up without a beat, his hips rutting forward. The movement is gentle, yet the pressure is enough to make you whine out in desperation— it’s also the only answer you manage to choke up for him before his cock slides between your wet folds.

“A-Ah— you fucking— fucking prick,” you hiss at the vampire, and so he bears his fangs at you through a wide grin. You find that it makes your breath hitch even amidst your despair.

“Now, now,” he reprimands, words syrupy, “bold words coming from someone so vulnerable.”

His nails dig into the soft flesh of your legs as he slides back and forth, taking meticulous care so that the head of his cock butts against your clit with every dip. The stimulation feels electric, and soon enough, you feel your still-sensitive body ramp up with heated energy for a second time this night.

A minute passes, yet it feels like an eternity. The air between you is thick with tension and the soft, repetitive harmony of your strained moans and his little gasps. You watch his eyes close in concentration, and despite his otherwise relaxed facade, you can tell he’s struggling to resist you by the way his eyebrows knit in the middle.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out, one of your hands extending to claw at his withholding forearm.

When your gazes meet, he looks surprisingly spent; eyes glassed-over, mouth ajar, and the slightest hint of sweat glazing his pale forehead. You realize that his domineering act seemed to come at the expense of his stamina: a resource you had slowly replenished in your comfortable position.

“Not— not yet, darling,” he hitches out, but the words appear tender and helpless to your trained ears. “I— I want to enjoy this— enjoy you—”

Your grip on his forearm tightens, making the bucking of his hips stutter. His eyebrow raises at your touch, but before he can shoot you a witty comment, you’re pushing him forward.

It happens within seconds.

Your knees straighten, feet slamming into his abdomen. He coughs at the sudden, unexpected impact, and you take the opportunity to grab tight onto his forearms. He falls backward, and just before his spine hits the soil beneath, you use the momentum to push yourself onto him.

When his eyes flutter open, you’re straddling his waist.

He blinks in brief confusion, surveying his surroundings before the crimson gaze finally turns to you.

He surveys your face, and you let him. The moment is like a silent meditation, heavy breaths intermingling as he takes your raw beauty in; the longing in your eyes, the soft dusting of pink across your nose, and ultimately, the plush of your lips he had ravaged mere moments ago.

Next, he moves to your body. His eyes scan down your taut nipples, down your tummy, and to the softness of your thighs squeezing his midriff to the ground. When he reaches the junction between your bodies, your hips buck as if on instinct.

“My, just how courageous we are,” he purrs under you, hands reaching to rub down the outside of your thighs. “I wouldn’t be so nice about your dirty tricks if I didn’t find this view thoroughly delectable.”

You shiver at his honeyed words, yet your gaze stays determined on him. Your palms go to rest atop his, marveling at the eccentric softness of his knuckles and the polarizing edge of the nails.

“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” you grin playfully, rocking your hips back to feel his hard length against the curve of your ass. When a soft hiss escapes his lips, you feel your ego inflate. “Sound familiar?”

His eyes roll, but the grin creeping onto his lips deceives him immediately.

His head tilts at you, fangs bearing in the soft moonlight. “You’re trouble.”

The mischief of your smile spins into a warm fondness. Your cheeks warm, and your heart swells, but you don’t quite understand why. “Oh how rich that is coming from you.”

And then you’re rising on your knees, hips hovering over his throbbing erection. Your palms connect, digits intertwining with his as you lower yourself onto him.

You test the waters first, letting his tip brush over your slit with feather-like touches. You hum gently at the teasing pleasure, and so does Astarion.

When you feel your tummy tightening with anticipation, you dive in. With a light shimmy, you line your hips with his, and with more desperation than you planned, you slide down.

You both hiss as the head of his cock penetrates you, the stretch making your palm tighten against his. You bend at the knees, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim after such a long, lonesome time.

Finally, you let your hips slam against his. The sudden, harsh movement makes you gasp out into the tantric air as his tip pokes against your womb. The dull pain quickly shifts into a flat, resonant pleasure, and you waste no time.

Your hips begin to buck against his, building a slow, steady rhythm until you’re confidently riding your vampire lover with a self-satisfied smirk on your lips.

Each thrust makes you mewl, moan, and cry out into the night, that pleasant angle of his cock hitting that same spot his fingers did just minutes ago.

His head rolls back into the ground, and with the remnants of his energy, he issues an occasional, quick rut into you. As it’s rare, you decide to savor it. You squeeze around him with the thrusts, and soon, you feel yourself running out of breath.

“I— I could let you do this for—hells— forever,” he hisses out, and suddenly, you feel his hands unclasp from yours and snake around your waist. “Where have you been all these centuries?”

Your upper body is dragged forward, your tits colliding with his toned chest when he pulls you into a tight, possessive embrace.

You gasp at the warmth between you, and your eyebrows soon furrow when you realize the position limits your hip movement. As you’re forced into a pause from your delirious riding, his lips crash onto yours.

Your tongues share a private, slack dance, heads tilting to adjust as you both hum and groan into the fiery kiss. You attempt to rut into him, and soon enough he gets the hint.

Keeping you immobilized against his chest, his hips pound up into you. The first few smacks are scandalously loud, and you revel in the newfound angle.

You’re lost in him, completely and utterly. When he moans, you respond with a hum— when his embrace tightens around you, you kiss him harder.

The familiar, fiery heat in your tummy bubbles up again. You feel it amp up, grow, and send jolts up your spine when suddenly, you’re being pushed up. When your eyes flutter open, you catch his still closed.

His chest stays firm against yours as he positions you upright, letting you straddle his hips as you’re both left sitting in the soft patch of grass and wildflowers.

With your body regaining its mobility, you start grinding against him again. The position allows for a deliciously intimate closeness, his cock burrowing deep into you as you resume riding him.

The pressure within you grows, emerging as a knot— threatening to unravel with every other thrust. Your clit rubs against the base of his groin, amplifying the pleasure into a sensation you’ve long forgotten about.

“A-Astarion—” you mewl out between kisses, and his hot breath tickles your face when he chuckles.

“Cum for me,” he sighs out, and the assertion comes off soft and pleading as it settles into the groves of your heart.

“O-Okay— I… I—”

He tightens his hold on your waist with one hand, as the other moves to cradle your cheek. His touch is unbelievably delicate and affectionate, and out of all the stimulation he had so graciously provided you this night, it’s that soft touch that sends you over the edge.

Your lips connect in one last kiss, and you moan throatily into his mouth. Your hips still, thighs squeezing as your pussy tightens around his cock in a moment of pure bliss. The steadily rising pressure in your belly finally tips over, sending a wave of bliss down your entire being.

Still, he keeps moving. You almost want to scream against him as his hips begin pounding into you again, the soft slaps quickening as he slowly peaks with you.

Withdrawing from the kiss to lean against your neck, he cums. Hard.

Your slowly declining climax seems to slam the gas pedal as you feel him release deep into you, the warmth spreading through your body like a genial embrace, a fact that makes him groan loudly against your mouth. Your breath stills in your throat, before finally releasing into a long, guttural moan— it echoes into the night, and your vision blurs.

White-hot bliss envelops your body, and you melt into Astarion’s for solace. You feel him grip you, caress your face, kiss away your adrenaline-fueled tears, and pant softly against your lips as your pussy spasms again.

Your orgasm envelops you in slow, pulsating waves as it withdraws, and you’re soon left huffing into the vampire’s flaxen locks. You think you hear him speak, but the ringing in your ears is too potent to know for certain.

Then, as the ringing finally retires, you hear him whisper your name. It’s a soft, patient call against the burning skin of your neck, one you commit to memory as you’re finally awarded your senses back— if only partially.

The forest feels exceptionally silent as you fall into his arms. You recognize the soft chirp of crickets in the distance, perhaps a distant hoot of owls, but it all seems to blend into an indecipherable blur as exhaustion floods your system.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck, and your mind sinks into the soft, languid thumps of his heart. His hand caresses your back, and you sigh deeply.

You sit there for what feels like hours, drinking each other in. You’ve waited so long, and finally, you’re at ease— it’s a feeling you wish to cherish, and if it wasn’t for the pesky passage of time, you’d choose to stay in this damned forest for eons; with him.

You feel him shift against you. His hands withdraw from your waist, and he whispers softly against you. “Come, my love.”

You hum in disagreement, face burrowing deeper into him. Yes, rosemary and brandy— now it’s clear to you.

He exhales sharply, and you smile into his neck. He waits for a beat, before placing a soft kiss to your temple. “Wait here.”

You nod gently and finally allow him to withdraw. The separation makes you sigh, your body shivering in the newfound cold of the night, but you persevere. In the longing to hold on to the moment for a little longer, you keep your eyes closed and hope he’ll return before you open them again.

You hear him shuffle around, walking from left to right, before finally returning to face you. “Hands up,” he mutters softly, and you do as you’re told in your pleasure-drunken stupor.

You feel him drape something silken over your sweat-slick body, the soft material draping your hips before coming to a stop at your thighs. When you breathe in, you immediately realize it’s not your shirt, so you grin.

When you’re comfortably wrapped up, he leans in. Once you finally sense the familiar warmth of his chest, you lean against his shoulder and breathe in his scent.

You’re surprised he does this for you. Tenderness is not exactly something you’d connect with a man of his past, of his skill. Yet, when his hands move to rest under your knees and back, you don’t resist.

He lifts you off the ground, letting your fatigued frame rest against him. He takes it upon himself to get you back to camp, safe and sound, and only slightly perturbed.

You drink in everything you can, letting yourself be greedy for once. The steadiness of his breath, his warm chest, the crinkling of leaves under his feet— it’s an image you swear to place, no matter what difficulties might threaten to befall you in the future.

And he’s silent up until you reach the campgrounds. The chatter of dinnertime has long died down, and when you open your eyes, you spot the crackling embers of firelight flickering away among a circle of stones. The flames cast a soft, warm light onto the closed tents, and you revel in the intimacy of the moment.

“Everyone met their bedtime while we’ve been naughty sneaking out,” he murmurs with a chuckle, and you close your eyes hurriedly in hopes of feigning slumber. Still, you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face at his brazen comment.

You reach the outskirts and finally spot his tent just below an old, sturdy oak tree. You recall the talks you had out front so many times before, back when your feelings were just sparks of something much stronger and much, much warmer.

He crouches down and with an unsurprising agility climbs into the little shelter with you still in his arms. You lie slack against him, letting his arms lay you gently onto his woolen mat. You melt into the warmth almost immediately, sighing out dreamily when you feel his presence beside you.

It’s silent for a moment, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you catch him staring at you. His gaze is thoughtful but warm, lingering over your form with a certain glimmer.

“I guess it’s official, then,” you sigh out, closing your eyes again and letting a lazy smile drift over your features.

He pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. “What… what is?”

You chuckle softly at his awkward tone, shifting to the side and letting one of your eyes pop open to glance at him.

“My victory,” you state matter-of-factly before quickly shifting to your other side, facing away from him just to let a satisfied grin creep onto your face.

You don’t witness it, but his expression goes from tense, to disconcerted, to irritated in a matter of seconds. His eyes roll, and you suddenly feel a flat slap against your ass.

“Woah there, hey!” you gasp, followed by a cheeky giggle. Your head turns to face him from your comfortable position, and you catch him mirroring your grin.

“Quiet, now,” he commands softly, pivoting to lie beside you. His arm comes over your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Bet’s over, darling. I’m sorry to say, but you’ve not proven yourself capable. Shame, really.”

You blow a raspberry through your smile and shimmy closer to him, your body melting perfectly into his— a fact that has you near to falling asleep.

“Shame indeed. The look on your face was priceless when you ate dirt,” you shrug nonchalantly, “At least that’s the version I’ll be telling everyone come morning.”

He scoffs, the low rumble of it vibrating against your back, but his arm only tightens around you. You feel his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.

“If you do that, I might just have to kill you,” he mutters, but despite the intensity of the words, his voice is soft and loving against your head. His hand drifts to your belly, fingers tracing lazy circles against the soft skin there.

“You would never.”

He’s silent for a beat. Your lips open to build on your clever retort before you feel his sharp exhale on your neck.

“Sleep, darling,” he reprimands, squeezing your midriff gently.

You sigh contentedly, your lips brushing against the pillow as you settle deeper into his embrace. The tent is cocooned in warmth, but you feel the cool kiss of the evening breeze filtering in through the small opening at the entrance. Outside, the campfire crackles faintly, the last embers glowing like distant stars before fading into fine ash.

As you drift closer to sleep, wrapped in the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the world around you blurs into the peaceful haze of near-dreams.

Just as the veil of slumber begins to pull you under, you feel his lips press against your hair, a soft whisper brushing against your skin.

“As long as I'll live, I never could.”

[dollfacefantasy]

Restless Dreams

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream

word count: 3.6k

a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.

“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”

You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.

It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted. 

Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.

“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.

“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”

“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.

A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.

“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser. 

He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.

“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”

“I better,” you grumble with a smile.

“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”

“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.

“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.

“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.

“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”

“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.

The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.

Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.

Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.

And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.

Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.

Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.

You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.

Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.

He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.

It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.

He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.

His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.

He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.

Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”

But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.

He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.

At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.

You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.

It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.

“Please.”

He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.

You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.

Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.

He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.

In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture. 

You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.

In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.

You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.

“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.

More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.

Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.

The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.

“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.

“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.

“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.

“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.

You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.

You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.

“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.

You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.

You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.

“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.

Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.

The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.

“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.

His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.

“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.

“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”

Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.

“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.

He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.

You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.

His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.

“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”

As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.

He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.

“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.

Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.

He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.

“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”

You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.

“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”

He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.

“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.

“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.

He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.

“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”

“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.

“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.

You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.

He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.

“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.

“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.

He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.

After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.

“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.

“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.

That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.

[sillysowa]

IF YOU STOP NOW, I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU

Pairing: Satoru Gojo X Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut with plot, fluff and light angst snuck into the end

Word Count: 8.2K

Warnings: Inappropriate use of a cursed technique, bondage with Gojo's blindfold, semi-public sex(?), oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, reader tastes their own cum

Synopsis: You've known Gojo since high school, and he's always enjoyed getting on your nerves, so of course he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to train you now that you're both teachers at Jujutsu High. How can he keep his composure when you show him your cursed technique? The one that allows him to feel everything he does to you? You feel too good to quit, not like Satoru could dream of stopping anyway

Reblogs are sooo appreciated!!<3

-

Your spine slammed against the hard floor for what you hoped would be the last time that night, and the groan that tore from your throat made your haughty counterpart laugh. You gave in and went limp, but Gojo kept up, his strong arms locked onto your frame to keep you restrained, to train you the best he could. Recently, you had been incredibly eager to learn, and Satoru was equally as keen to teach you because he just loved your spunk. It was nice to have someone he went to high school with come back into his life, even though you were a lot more of a bitch in training than he remembered. However, he allowed all your sass because he couldn’t let you go out in the world saying you’ve learned from 'the one and only, the best, Satoru Gojo!' only to perform in any way that didn’t meet his standards, so he trained you, even when it disrupted his sleep. 

“You giving up, sweetheart?” Gojo sneered, staring down at you with his captivating blue eyes that you could’ve sworn were glowing in the low light. You didn’t like to look too hard, worried his six eyes ability might have some side-effect on you, but he seems to relish in this subtlety. Your body language tells him more than your words ever do. He shifts his head to maintain eye contact and his hair falls loosely around his eyes. You on the other hand attempt to hide your face against your own neck. 

“No.” You huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes with an exhale as your hands are currently out of commission, Gojo’s strong grip securing them down. he cracks a cocky smile at your body language, eyeing you up and down while he keeps your wrists crossed and pinned at your torso, both of your legs under one of his. You may say you haven’t given up, but your resolve is cracking. When you started hours ago, you were calm, and collected, and you could keep up with Gojo well enough, but now? Something shifted, and you seemed…nervous. 

Satoru Gojo was pretty sure he knew exactly what had made you so hot and bothered. He suspected it had something to do with the lingering touches throughout the night — when he had clasped both of your hands behind your back and bent you over his knee, when you pinned him down with your legs spread on either side of his waist, and probably most of all when he pulled your hair so you couldn’t escape him, putting you in the position you were currently in.

“Really? Sure looks like you are — wanna show me, or are you all bark and no bite?” Gojo grins, and when he does this, he’s close enough for you to see the amused squint of one of his eyes when he tilts his head to emphasize his point. It’s sheer maniacal joy at the expense of his precious shadow. You blink and suddenly he’s standing a good six feet away from you, and you’re lying on the floor like an idiot, starting to massage your wrists as you stand. 

You let the silence linger for a moment while you readjust your casual attire that’s starting to stick to your skin, and Gojo watches intently, his posture wide and taking up space in the small room.

“Why don’t you quit talking and find out?” You rasp out and anyone who walked by would assume you hadn’t spoken in weeks based on the gravelly delivery of your words, but no one would be walking by as it was just the two of you who were crazy enough to train at this hour. 

Gojo’s face lit up in delight, and he stepped closer, “Are you taunting me? That's exciting.” You saw him for only a moment and had no time to react before your hands were held tightly behind your back and his large frame was pressing hard against your back, his warm breath fanning over your neck and making your hair prick up. 

“You've got this, come on.” This time, Gojo’s not trying to provoke you, instead he aims to teach and encourage you — however, when sparring with someone like him, any motivation feels like mockery. 

You twisted against him and pulled his arm over your back, flipping him over you, but he grabbed onto your arm in the fall and brought you down with him. You’re face to face once more, those wild blue eyes squinted in a smile like this is just mere child’s play. You know what needs to happen, what Gojo’s been expecting this entire time. 

You clap your hands together, fingers interlocking in patterns only you know,

“Mirror technique: reflective chamber.”

And a visible wave of cursed energy flows over Gojo, blue rippling waves cascading down his form. Now, anything Gojo deals to you, he deals to himself also. For a moment, you both just huff and glare at each other, trying to catch your breaths through the summer night’s air. He scoffs and then laughs, but it’s a little different than the others of the night. Gojo’s laughing in excitement,

“Oh!” His tone fluctuates mockingly, “Don’t know if I should be congratulating you for finally figuring this out or if I should be worried! What do you think, hm? Should I be scared?-“

“I think you should quit this mind game you keep playing, I know what you’re trying to do — now come at me.” You sneer. Typically, you’re not this brash with Gojo, but the combination of the lack of sleep and his antics is starting to wear on your moral compass. Besides, you know he can handle it, having put up with your attitude throughout highschool. Satoru has always made it his goal to crack your shell and get a feel of your soft side, and he couldn't think of a better opportunity than these intimate late nights together,  

“If you wish.” Gojo smirks, eyeing you with fake concern before coming at you and landing a kick to your ankles that sweeps you right off your feet. You both know you let it happen out of sheer curiosity, and you barely notice the pain because you’re carefully watching Gojo’s expression as you fall, praying to see a change. You catch on quickly and grunt as your tailbone hits the floor,

“What the hell?” You groan, realizing that Gojo’s infinity prevents your technique from having any effects on him,

“Gojo, make this a real fucking fight, and stop using your infinity shit!” You hiss at the man who’s standing above you now, and when you go to grab at his ankle your whole body stills from his technique. You struggle and he watches with amusement before he deactivates it to watch you fall forward like a fool tugging on a rubber band, wounding themselves from the released elastic.

“Ah, alright, alright, I’ll humor you. but just this once, ‘kay?” Satoru’s silk voice comes from behind you as you pant on all fours, turning to face him as he slowly walks closer. 

You’re a little taken aback at the sight of Gojo dropping to his knees in front of you. It’s slow and cautious, unlike anything he’s done in your training, and you feel your whole face starting to burn as he puts his hands up defensively while coming closer — with anger or embarrassment you’re not quite sure, but it makes you feel like a lab rat rather than a human being, especially with the way his height cages you in,

“Gojo-“

“Ah-ah-ah! You wanted to practice your technique, correct? well,” He moves until your knees are at his chest, and even though his infinity isn’t activated, you feel as though you can’t move. 

“Let’s practice…” Satoru looks down at your arms that you’re using to prop yourself up, and you don’t follow his gaze, instead, you’re distracted by his long eyelashes and the small amounts of sweat that cling to his face, and how this close, for this long, you can smell him, and fuck, he smells sweet. Delicious even — you feel like you could take a bite out of him. Amid your thinking, you’re cut off by a slender finger tracing down your arm and forcing you to meet his gaze at the point of contact,

Gojo hums, one hand up to his chin, fingers gently rubbing and eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and his other hand steadily traces up and down your forearm, his ocean eyes watch as your skin pricks up and reacts to the touch, his skin following soon after.

“Hmm…it’s faint, but I can feel it too.” He gently hums. His demeanor is so relaxed it’s almost got you in a trance, lost in the moment completely. The wind whistles through the trees, the moon glows into the room through the open door, and your mentor, Satoru Gojo, is practically on top of you just tracing your skin.

You feel a sudden sharp pinch on your wrist, and you suck in a quick breath, tugging away from Gojo before his hand seizes you in place, long fingers grappling onto you.

Gojo’s own eyes twitch momentarily from the small sting, but he cracks a grin, 

“So sensitive — that was nothing!” Satoru taunts you, but there isn’t much malice behind it. You watch him with steady eyes, looking down at the small red mark that he now gently runs his thumb over. What an absurd place to be in. You have no idea how you got here and you have no training that’s prepared you for what’s happening right now.

What the hell is going through his mind?

Frankly, Satoru couldn’t answer that question himself. One moment you’re sparring and the next, you’re catching your breath under him while he plays with your reflective technique. He felt this rush in his blood, but he wasn’t sure if it was from your power or his own wild feelings. All he knew was that he wanted to touch you, and this ability of yours made things just so much more exciting. To touch you, and to feel not just his touch mirrored on his skin, but also the way your body reacts to it is something he can’t imagine not indulging in. 

Gojo looks up at you, and his heart forgets its function when he sees you’re already looking at him. It’s almost painful, feeling not only the jump of his own nerves but yours too, and he lets out a small groan from the feeling, 

“This is quite the technique you’ve got…” Gojo thinks aloud, swallowing his arousal and trying to keep calm and collected. This situation makes him feel like a horny teenager again; Gojo’s barely even touched you and yet he can’t ignore the twitching in his pants. He can’t handle the confused look you’re giving him, either. Who knew all he had to do was manhandle you and touch your bare skin to flip your switch? You’re suddenly so shy, and visibly nervous, but above all, he can sense a strong, carnal, need, just burning you up — can feel it every time you get chills or butterflies, and he wants to laugh at how frequently that is.

It’s a heightened sense of being alive that Satoru has never experienced, and he can’t risk messing up.

Not now.

He huffs, running a hand through his hair and letting a laugh out to try and alleviate some of the tension he built up. You look up at him, and he holds eye contact as his hands abandon your arm to slide up your ankles and onto the backs of your knees, a shiver racing up your spine from it. Gojo tilts his head and catches his lower lip in his teeth as he presses, spreading your legs. The movement makes you realize how sweaty you’ve become, the chill but humid breeze gently rushing in to cool your sweat to your skin and rouse the tall man’s hair. He looks like a cat of sorts, eyes fixed wide as he analyzes your reactions, and your body feels like it’s on fire under his cruel gaze. You struggle for words in the silent moment, but at last, they come to you,

“You don’t look so good, Satoru…I’m starting to think you’re the one who was all bark and no bi-“ You don’t get to finish your bratty sentence, instead, a small gasp leaves you and your hands rush to meet the back of Gojo’s neck after he moved his grip to your waist to gain the leverage to grind his throbbing dick against the heat in between your legs.

Oh. 

Oh, fuck.

Your clit throbs under your now tight pants, and that feeling, the dangerous one Gojo’s giving to you, affects him as well. Satoru’s cock jumps, and when it’s up against your cunt like this you’re both forced to crave the feeling again. 

Gojo looks down at you and he nearly cums in his pants at the sight. Your eyes are locked on his, your hair is sticking to your sweaty skin, your breaths are flowing quickly, quiet little moans and hums, and your loose shirt has exposed your gorgeous neck. Satoru finds that he can’t look away — that spot, that untouched area, it’s beckoning him. 

Satoru’s head moves before his eyes do to make eye contact with you as one of his hands comes to the back of your head, cradling it in his large palm, while his other hand trails up your arm, and his fingers intertwine with yours. He feels the pulsing heartbeat sensation of your arousal and he’s doing everything in his power to not fuck you like a rabid animal.  

“Gojo…” Your voice centers him, and his eyes focus on you, 

“Are we really doing this?” You whisper like you’re completely innocent, yet your legs wrap around his back, pulling him impossibly closer. Satoru’s eyes go wide, capturing you like a prisoner of his gaze, and when he looks down at you he can feel the thrashing of your heart against your rib cage. He considers your position, and he knows you both understand that this position isn’t…appropriate for two jujutsu sorcerers. If he keeps touching you like this, your dynamic will be forever changed. 

“Only if it’s what you want…do you want this?“ Satoru asks you with a tilt of his head, and with the way his neon eyes glow under the shadows of his hair, you can’t imagine a single soul who would deny themselves of this euphoria,

You nod, but that isn’t enough for him. Gojo starts to pull away,

“Words.”

“Yes!” You whisper-yell frantically, your hands chasing after him and finding themselves taking purchase around his head — one slipped into his silky hair and the other rested at the base of his neck, gently bouncing from his pulse,

“I need you,” You groan, “And if you stop now I swear I’ll kill you.” You punctuate every syllable, hammering in that you meant it, and the words hit Gojo square in his face, they sweep their way through his blood, and they stroke his dick just the way he likes it. 

“…Fuck…” Gojo moans. He was going to make sure you remembered those words. 

In that instant, his eyes lock onto your neck again, and he dips down to indulge in you. You catch the moment his eyelids flutter closed and then…then you feel him. 

Satoru’s nose and lips brush messily against your skin as he breathes you in, groaning against your neck and the sensation of it, fuck, the sensation makes your back arch off of the ground. His hair tickles, and his teeth ghost over your skin, tempting you just as much as he tempts himself,

“Fuck, you like this, huh? I can feel everything…the sensation’s grown from dull to just searing.” Gojo whines and the gravel in his voice makes you clench up down there, his warm breath on your neck causing the throbbing in your clit, which you now know he feels.

“Everything?” You whisper against his hair.

“Everything.” He grinds against you, and he finally sinks his teeth into your sweet skin. The moan that tears from your throat makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. One of his hands cradles the back of your head and holds it firmly, and the other meets your raised lower back, slipping under your shirt to grip at your skin. He can feel the impression of his bites against his own neck, and it’s irresistibly overwhelming.

You feel like you’re on cloud nine. Your eyes fight to stay open and your hips buck absentmindedly as Satoru’s tongue laps across the side of your neck. He’s humming and moaning in satisfaction, and it’s so perverse you could cry. He’s sucking and biting all over your neck, and the thought of having discolored marks in the shape of Satoru Gojo’s desire all over you in a matter of hours has you seeing stars. The groans he lets out right into your ear have you grinding against him hard, and he wants to give you some satisfaction, so Satoru moves one of his legs right in between yours, his thigh right up against your clit, and oh, god.

“Ah! Gojo!” You cry out, and he softly sinks his teeth into your neck, almost growling, 

“Satoru,” he whispers against your ear with his lips grazing your skin so gently,

“Call me Satoru when I touch you like this, doll.” He purrs, leaving one more wet kiss against your skin before pulling away from your neck to admire his work. You, sprawled out and needy with wet skin and soon-to-be hickeys,

“Wow. You look an absolute mess.” He smiles, and rubs his knuckles over the many bite marks he left,

“You’re one to talk…” You whine, squinting from the way your nerves are reacting to his every touch,

“You’re covered too.” You reach out and Satoru humors you for a moment, watching you with cautious eyes in preparation for whatever moves you may have up your sleeve when your hand dips down to the bottom of his loose black shirt, starting to tug on it. He catches your hand in one of his and reacts quicker than you could ever dream of, tearing your shirt down the middle with his free hand as a wide smile coats his face. The gasp that leaves you is too loud and too erotic for comfort, and Gojo presses his palm over your lips with his eyes blown wide,

“Shhh, shhh! You wouldn’t want someone to come in and see you like this now, would you? Stay quiet, you little brat.” He spits the name out to get under your skin, and he eats up your facial expression.

Oh, you could just hit him, but you’re more concerned with the way your nipples are hardening right now. It’s not cold enough for them to perk up from the air, and you and Gojo both know that, explaining his smugness. 

“How hard are they to be poking through your bra like this?” He rubs his chin in mock concern, and his harsh gaze is seemingly making them grow even tenser. 

You bring your hands up to cover yourself and Satoru moves them.

“I had no idea I got you that hot and bothered!” He lies through a shit-eating-grin and pulls his blindfold out from his sweatpants pockets, and the unspoken acknowledgment of what he plans to use it for makes your heart drop, and Gojo feels it all — fuck does that stroke his ego,

“Shit baby, I’m learning so much about you right now — correct me if I’m wrong, but your body’s telling me you just love being controlled like this.” Satoru brings the smooth slip up to your face, dragging it over your cheek and feeling the burn of your heated face against his knuckles,

“The element of surprise gets you so wet-“

“God!” you whine dangerously loud and slap the blindfold from his hands, flinging it above your head.

“You’re dragging this out on purpose! just-just, fuck me please…” Your voice trails off and your sentence becomes nearly unintelligible at the end, clouded by your pride. the only reason he heard you was because he was close enough to practically breathe your words in, but you didn’t have to know that,

“Didn’t catch that baby, wanna repeat yourself?”

“Like hell, you didn’t-”

“Honest, babe! Repeat it for me.”

“…Fuck me.” You whisper.

“Hm?” He leans in even closer,

You just couldn’t believe you were begging for Satoru Gojo’s dick against the floor of a lamp-lit training room in the middle of the night. This was doomed from the start.

“Fuck me.” You grit out, tensing against your restraints.

“Begging looks so good on you, y’know,” Gojo whispers, lips ghosting over your own,

“Shut up, Toru.”

“Why don't you make me?”

And finally, you get to taste that cocky bitch against your tongue. Your lips meet, and you skip the formalities, mixing spit and groaning into each other’s mouths in the most uncouth manner. You’re fucking frenching Satoru and it’s so much better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s noisy, whining against you and grinding his dick down as if it’ll somehow slip in. There’s a million bratty things you could say, but the power dynamic of someone overpowering you like this is a guilty pleasure you’re willing to indulge in because Satoru Gojo makes you feel so fucking good. His lips work well with yours, and you start to feel as though he’s trying to eat you alive. He deepens the kiss, causing your eyes to roll behind your closed eyelids. Your eyelids flutter open for a moment, and the sight you’re met with looks crafted by divine hands.

Gojo’s beautiful blue eyes bore into yours and hold you prisoner. Your breath hitches, and he roughly grabs your hands, sliding them up above your head and pinning them with one of his much larger ones, all while holding eye contact. What a fucking man.

He breaks the kiss with a grunt and the blindfold has made its way back into his hands. Gojo goes to work on your wrists with the silk, fastening the knot in a matter of seconds while panting over you. Your heart rate is so high Gojo looks down at you with genuine concern, a large hand holding your shoulder,

“Too much?”

You gulp with your back arched and your mouth glossy from the previous events. You know you can’t lie to him in this position,

“No…” You mewl after forcing yourself to spit out the embarrassing acknowledgment that you’re enjoying being tied up. 

“Of course, it isn’t.” He chuckles, throwing his head back and raking his fingers through his hair,

“I mean, cantle to me when your pussy’s throbbing against my thigh.” He feels your burning embarrassment before seeing your attempt to make a smart-mouthed quip back at him and he beats you to it,

“It’s weird, I can feel the tension of being bound around my wrists, but unlike you, I can still move! It seems I’ve found a flaw in your technique, baby. Now, back to these…” Satoru looks below, eyes drifting to your chest to see your sports bra holding your breasts tight to your chest. There’s a valley of sweat gradually cooling in the breeze on your chest, and Gojo’s patience runs thin at the idea of what’s underneath.

“There’s…there’s no clasp…” You mumble, looking up at Gojo with what he can only describe as pleading eyes, begging him to do something about it. Who would he be if he didn’t oblige?

He grips the top of the bra and tears it down the middle like it’s a piece of lined paper. You gasp and Gojo looks at your face with pure shock,

“Please don’t tell me you’ll morn that thing — that may be the cheapest bra I’ve ever laid my eyes on!”

You scoff,

“What the hell? Do you think I was going to wear lingerie to spar with you?” You spit out from pure self-consciousness, and Gojo’s face lights up,

“Oh quit your whining. I’ll buy you a new one, yeah? Maybe a few, as long as I get to take them off you later.” After getting the satisfaction of your bashful face, Satoru returns his attention to your now naked chest and feels his saliva pooling. 

He simply takes it in for a moment, leaving you wildly nervous. Does he like them? After a while, he uses his left hand to palm your right breast, kneading it, squeezing it, and brushing his thumb over your nipple just to feel the way it lights your nerves up. It’s so fascinating to him how sensitive your smaller body is, and how he would have never known if it wasn’t for tonight. The way making eye contact with him stalls your heartbeats, the way his breath against your ear can make an entire side of your body burn alive with a tingling sensation, and now, his cold fingers against your warm chest and the way its effects spread through your entire nervous system — it’s art.

Gojo knows you’d never admit how good it feels, and even if you did it would never paint the picture as clearly as him just feeling it like this. 

He looks up at you through sex-crazed, half-lidded eyes, and his words drag with lust,

“I need you to keep very quiet, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?” He whispers. Gojo’s left hand continues to palm one of your tits, while his other hand reaches to play with your hair and holds your head to maintain eye contact.

“Y-Yes, yes.” The words come out strangled from the sensations, and you barely register what’s been asked of you, only knowing you don’t want any of this to stop and you’ll do whatever he wants.

Suddenly, his fingers clamp down on your nipple, squeezing for a quick second before sweet release. 

“Ah! Ahh, fuck!” You choke, writhing and groaning. Who knew Satoru Gojo was such a fucking sadist? And, god, who knew you were such a masochist? Though the sensation confused him biologically, Gojo could somehow feel you getting wetter and wetter down there. You were so sensitive he questioned if you were a virgin,

“Fuck, how long has it been since anyone’s seen you this way, pretty girl? Has anyone ever?” He teases, flicking your nipple, and deciding he shouldn’t neglect your left tit for much longer, divvying up his attention with both of his hands. Now, he leans down and captures one in his mouth and you swear you could cum in that very instant. His warm, soft, tongue laps at your nipple like a cat drinks milk, and he looks up at you the entire time. 

“Satoru, o-oh my god, Toru, please!” Your voice cracks in arousal and your head spins from the pleasure. He moans against your skin, and when he feels the vibrations of it, and the sensation of being tasted like this mirrored on his skin, he thanks his lucky stars for your technique. Satoru’s cock throbs painfully, cramped in his sweatpants as he kneels on top of you like this, but he’ll deal with it later. Through his daze, Gojo suddenly becomes aware you’re calling for him,

“—Satoru!”

He pops off of your nipple, 

“Yeah, baby?”

“I want you to eat me…please, Toru, I can’t take it anymore...wanna see your pretty face down there.” You pleaded through pained whispers. The words would have embarrassed you if you hadn’t been working up the courage to externalize them for so long. Now all they did was make you impossibly hornier, and Gojo could tell. 

You didn’t have to ask him twice. 

He shifted down, and the sight of him so close to your pussy made you overthink your request, but the need was too strong for you to be self-conscious now. The view made your knees spread further, making space for the man — Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer the world has known, on his knees just dying to get his mouth on your cunt. You could’ve sworn he was drooling. His hands worked like lighting on your sweatpants before he slipped his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear before he looked up at you, making eye contact while yanking them down agonizingly slowly. As he breathes out his nose, the hot air fans over your sweat-slicked skin. 

You kick gently to aid him in removing your clothes, and now you’re fully naked for him. It felt a little unfair that he was seeing you so vulnerable, and the most you had seen all night was a glimpse of his chest down his shirt as he tied your hands together. 

“F-fuck…” 

Satoru’s cursing brings you back to reality, and you can’t help it when you instinctively close your legs. He rushes forward,

“No, no, none of that. Let me see you.” Gojo’s hands rest on your knees and he rubs his thumbs over your skin. You clench your teeth in apprehension, worried he might not like what he sees, but you decide you’ve already come this far, and you can’t get in your own way any longer, so you oblige and slowly spread your legs open for him. 

It’s hypnotic, Satoru thinks, the way your body just beckons him and he craves you like a moth to a flame. His large hands grip your waist and crawl up your back, lifting you and making you let out a small yelp. Satoru’s large hands grip you, and with his sheer strength alone he pulls you up so you’re sitting on top of him and he’s laying back, your bound hands resting right over your cunt. You felt so exposed, but the position was new and exciting. And then it dawned on you,

“W-wait-“

Satoru looks up at you innocently, his hands kneading your hips. The way his hair falls around his face, exposing his forehead, the crazed look in his eyes, and the way his hands twitch atop your skin — you try to etch it into your memory forever. 

“Trust me, yeah?” And then Gojo moves.

He brings you to his mouth and presses a hot, open-mouthed, kiss to your closed lower lips. You let out a shaky breath, watching him. With your hands bound, you struggle to keep yourself upright, when you decide to tangle your hands in his hair and hold on. The groan he releases shocks you, and it goes straight to your twitching clit. Gojo uses his large hands to spread your legs and almost immediately buries his face against your pussy. You watch as his eyes roll into the back of his head, and the warm wetness of his saliva, paired with his stiff and skilled tongue has you melting,

“Hah- ah- ohh, fuck! Toru, Toru…” you moan and cry, hips bucking against his face. Every time you do so, your clit smashes against his nose, and you chase the feeling he’s so eagerly giving you. gojo eats you like he’s gone rabid, sucking you like a hard candy. His hands find their way to your ass, holding you steady while he makes out with your cunt, slurping in the most obscene ways — it’s enough to make you question if your face is on fire. You look outside for a brief moment and remember that if anyone just happened to be awake at the moment, you’d surely both be in trouble beyond your comprehension. The thought has you tensing up, and Gojo feels it too. He murmurs against your pussy,

“Hey, eyes on me.” 

Without a second wasted, you look back down, and the face you’re met with has you on the very brink of orgasm. Gojo’s eyebrows are pinched together in a needy way, and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, eating you alive. You grind against him, slotted against his face like a puzzle piece. His sinful tongue laps at your clit with precision, and just like that Satoru knows he’s got you in checkmate. He sucks hard, moaning the way you like, and due to your technique, Gojo knows you’re close. In the next breath,

“Wh-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

Satoru’s removed his face from your pussy, and strings of saliva connect it to his open mouth. His expression makes it look like he’s the one who just got eaten out, reminding you that he’s feeling everything you’re feeling right now.

“You were about to cum, right? I’ve never felt like that before, it was this swelling that just gradually got more and more intense — you didn’t cum, but you were so close.” 

“Yes, I was…I was right there, so why did you stop?” You sneer through clenched teeth, using your leverage in Gojo’s hair to pull his head back, causing him to hiss and moan from the pain. 

Your heart freezes over from the wild glint in his eyes.

“Oh, you brat.” He grins,

Gojo holds eye contact while he reaches up, tearing the blindfold around your wrist in half and detangling your hands from his hair. He aids you to the floor as he gets up, keeping you on your knees,

“Why?” He refrains, standing in front of you, 

You watch in awe as he slips his black shirt off of his head, jaw going slack while you behold the sight of his chiseled form. You barely have the time to process him as his pants follow suit, and his dick, which looks unbearably hard, springs up once freed from its confines. Satoru’s hand wraps around the base, giving slow but rough strokes with his head thrown back. He looks down at you through white lashes,

“Because I want to feel you cum like that when it’s on my dick.” 

As he finishes his sentence, his tip spurts a little precum, and you flinch as it lands on your face, he moves too quickly for you to react, and before you know it, Gojo’s pulling you onto back with a firm grip around your ankle, before flipping you onto your stomach. You moan loudly, and Gojo’s hand comes up to your lips, palm pressing down as he pulls your back smoothly against his chest, positioning you like a rag doll.

“Shit, you just love being manhandled. I never would’ve guessed all this perversion from my mouthiest shadow. You just want to be used like a fuck toy, hm?” Gojo whispers in your ear, hand moving from your mouth to your neck,

You pant, eyes fluttering in need, desperately seeking his touch with your arching and moans,

“I guess the cat’s out the bag” You grunt, smaller hands reaching up to rest on top of his large fingers that rest around your throat. 

“Put it in, god damnit, I can’t wait much longer.” You drag out your words in desperation.

“Alright, alright,” He whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You feel his tip slide up and down your slit, and he slaps it against you a few times before lining it up. He whispers after a shaky breath,

“Try to stay quiet for me, baby.” 

A long, broken mewl tears from your throat as he slides his dick in up to the base. You struggle to keep quiet more than you thought you would, and Gojo’s hand tightens around your throat. However, you’re not the only one struggling,

“F-fuck, fuck-” Gojo almost cries the string of curses in your ear, and you remember what he’s feeling. Your mouth waters at the realization that Satoru is simultaneously feeling his dick inside you, and himself. Gojo’s eyebrows twitch and his knees weaken, but he keeps his composure,

“How you feeling, Toru?”

You both whine as he fucks up into you slowly, trying to test the feeling. He thrusts with purpose, and each time he bottoms out you see stars. So this is what Gojo’s cock feels like. He laughs cooly, clearing his throat,

“I had a feeling my dick was the best one out there, but now I’m positive.” And Satoru thrusts back in harder, making you jump and yelp. He groans into your ear, and you’d clap back if you weren’t busy wailing from the sudden increase in speed and depth of his thrusts, the sound of wet skin slapping making your ears run hot,

“Ah! Ah! I can’t! I’m- ngh!- I can’t!” You tremble in your mentor’s hold, flailing from the pleasure and the impact of his body against yours. 

“Yeah, you can. Shit, fuck!- take it, take it all.”

His dick is hammering in and out of you and building up a sudden unfamiliar pressure,

“Satoru-“

“I know, I know, doll.” His voice cracks as he moans, “This greedy pussy’s just too sensitive, gonna squirt already. You’re gonna give me all of it, right baby? Can you be good and do that for me?” The hand around your neck trails up and pulls your hair back, Satoru’s lips now against your neck as he fucks you like an animal and his voice tilts hypnotically, echoing in your skull,

“Yeah, I know you can, dirty girl. Come on, cum for me.”

It doesn’t take much long after Gojo’s lewd speech for you to soak his dick. His speed keeps up, causing an endless flow of warm squirt that trails down his thighs and yours and drips onto the cold floor. You moan like you can’t breathe, and for a prolonged amount of time, you genuinely can’t. The initial feeling of squirting so much and so soon has you just about astral projecting, and Gojo’s struggling to keep himself from doubling over from the amplified pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby, look at the mess you’ve made.” 

One of Satoru’s toned arms wraps around your middle to support you as the other arm extends to the puddle below, coating his fingers and examining them in the lamp-light. 

You frown at the unashamed perversion of it, watching his hand right in front of your face. 

“Open up,” Demands Satoru, and you’re not sure why, but you do — almost no hesitation.

He laughs, and it gently shakes your body along with his,

“Atta girl! Oh, you’re so damn obedient like this, and all for me. You naughty girl, so dirty.“ He rasps, all kinds of amused with this unusual behavior from you. He slips his middle and index fingers into your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You swirl your tongue around his uncomfortably long fingers, eyes rolling back and sweaty skin sticking to his as you both breathe heavily. 

Gojo removes his fingers from your mouth before maneuvering you with a large palm on your lower back. He presses you down, your cheek against the floor and your ass in the air with an arm crossed over your back, held in place by his hand. He had you completely powerless, and the feeling in your gut from the revelation made you feel like a whore. His whore.

“Fuck, this pussy just loves me — mmh- sucking me in so fucking good.” Gojo dirty talks, his hips ramming against your ass like a machine as the sounds of sex bounce off of the walls. He was right about that; you were seemingly dripping for him non-stop. There was truly no need for lube when your partner was this good at turning you on. You had never acted this slutty a day in your life. The arch, the deep and guttural moans, the way you lean back to meet him with each thrust, it was deplorable, but somehow Gojo brought it out of you without a second thought,

“She does, doesn't she? I need to hear you say it, babe.” Gojos hands rest on both of your cheeks, pulling you against him and sheathing himself fully inside you for deeper thrusts. You cry out and quickly bite your lip to conceal it, shuddering breaths coming out of your nose,

“Y-yes…yes…loves you!” All you can do is pant through quick responses. You can’t keep up with him. How could he possibly have this much stamina after sparring with you for hours? It’s non-stop — the drag of his long, hard, dick in your soaking cunt, pulsing inside you and filling you up so deliciously.

Gojo can’t bite back his smile, and he can’t keep his eyes off of you. You; cocky, mouthy, bratty, little you, bent over taking his dick and just savoring every inch. He fucks you harder, if that was even possible, and opts to no longer silence you in favor of etching your every moan into his memory. They’re so fluid. Sometimes you whimper, and it’s high pitched, and it’s sickeningly submissive. Others are more hoarse, and pained, similar to the noises you made when you were sparring earlier. He loves every single sound.

“These filthy moans of yours are- ngh, so perfect, baby. Ah- I-I want more, need more.” Satoru pleads breathily, pulling out to hastily pick you up into his arms. Though he moves quickly, his grip on you is like a vice, never dreaming of dropping you. Still, you’re startled, holding onto him for dear life with your chin against his shoulder. He backs you up against the wall, right by the open door. 

You slam against it, hot and heavy, and the low-lidded look your mentor gives you has you gasping in need, your hands holding him roughly. Satoru doesn’t wait, instantly he meshes his lips against yours, groaning into you and he holds delirious eye contact while he slips himself back inside. You both feel the way your body reacts from the relief of Gojo’s length, moment while your eyes roll into the back of your heads. He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, the rhythm of his thrusts knocking you up, and down, and up, and down. The pleasure is too much, all-consuming, and overwhelming. It’s no surprise that you start to lose your strength to hold on, Gojo finding himself holding you to keep up his pace,

“F-fuck don’t tell me you’re- ngh- too weak already? You poor, pathetic, baby.” Satoru coos, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth hung for the endless stream of moans he can’t hold back,

“My cock feels that good, huh?” He rams into you faster, holding your waist and keeping you spread wide to take every inch. You gasp, and your nails claw at his back. Satoru grunts like the masochist he is from the feeling,

“Oh-oh my god, oh my god, oh my god- Ah!- Faster, faster, Satoru, faster!” The pace he’s set is unreal, and your hands can’t find purchase anywhere. You drag them down his back until it’s raw, slam them against the wall behind you, and at last, you dig them into his soft hair. His dick hits every tingling nerve inside you, and every time you’re able to make eye contact with him he’s already staring you down like prey, making your insides clench. 

“Satoru, m’gonna cum!” An airy yelp follows your warning, and Gojo smiles sinisterly, his pace unrelenting,

“I know, can feel it.” And he’s telling the truth. As you’ve gradually gotten closer, your technique has become stronger and stronger, nearly giving Gojo a hard time staying on his feet. With each thrust he feels your every nerve alive with need, begging him, screaming out to him, don’t stop.

He stills like a bullet train suddenly slamming to a stop. You snap out of your daze, looking at him with agony and hanging on to whatever explanation he has for you,

“Say my name.” 

Your head lolls back as a bratty groan rips from your throat. 

“Huh?” 

Gojo seizes your chin, making you face him. His eyes are blown wide with lust and he looks like he’s run a marathon from the sheer pain and struggle smeared all over his face. He thrusts his hips up into you, pushing you up the wall. The pressure inside your cunt makes you wince and your eyes roll back,

“F-fuck!”

“Say my name.”

“…Satoru.” 

He pulls out completely and slams deep inside, eyes trained on your pretty face to watch you come apart. You’re such a good pet for him, learning so quickly,

“Good girl, now was that so hard?” Gojo huffs in degrading annoyance. When you think this little game is over, he groans,

“Again.”

“Satoru- Agh!-“ 

“Don’t stop doll, who’s fucking you like this?” His thrusts pick back up,

“You, Satoru! S- Ah!- Satoru! Satoru!” You wail as he pounds you to a pulp against the wall. 

Gojo feels his dick pulsing inside you, his blood rushing like a stampede inside him. 

“Damn right.” He moans, grabbing your waist and suspending your limp body in the air to fuck you like you weigh nothing. You gasp and claw at him, and he nods feverishly, 

“Toru!”

“I know- hah- I know, doll. Come on, cum for me.” 

It’s like jumping off a cliff into the ocean or watching fireworks burst, or finishing a race. Your whole body buzzes with the fluttering feeling of the orgasm Satoru Gojo grants you so generously, and you gasp for a spare breath in the warm air that sticks to itself. Your whole body tingles like static, and your muscles tense as you come down. You’ve almost forgotten about the sight outside your eyelids, opening your eyes to watch Gojo come undone. 

He moans weakly, and it’s enough to make your clit twitch. His thrusts grow desperate and needy, and his grip on you tightens. Satoru’s dick feels warm and alive inside you, and your chest fills with racing butterflies as he suddenly pulls you close, arms encircling you when he cums deep inside. His body is pressed right up against yours, his dick fully inside you just filling you up, and his heart beats hard enough for you to feel it against your chest. It’s desperate, and it’s intimate. His breaths fan over your shoulder and he gulps, hands sliding over your sweaty skin to pull out and gently set you down. You can’t sit up, flopping down and curling in on yourself, breathing hard and heavy with your cheek pressed against the floor. 

“Hold on, sweetheart, hold on.” He rasps. Satoru retrieves his shirt from the floor and walks over to you, spreading your legs and wiping at the release that costs your inner thighs. He presses a soft kiss to your inner thing that makes you suck in a breath and shiver, your hands seeking him out. You must have finally turned off your technique, too worn out to keep it up, because he could no longer feel your nerves. Gojo knew it wouldn’t be long for him to miss that intimacy. 

“Come here,” He hums in that deep melodic voice that makes you melt, and he holds your wrists to pull you closer. The feeling of his large hand cupping your head and holding you against his bare skin had your breaths evening out in no time, and you felt yourself slipping into a vulnerable place you’d never have pictured showing Satoru.

“You did so, so, so, good, baby.” He slurs his words,

“Nice to see all that endurance training’s paid off.” 

“I’m tired.” You murmur almost inaudibly, your words muffled from exhaustion. 

“I bet you are. Let’s go to bed, come on.” Gojo chuckles softly, bracing you against him as he stands, holding you to his strong and bare chest.

The glow of the moon vanishes outside your closed eyes and before you can think too hard about it you feel your head hit a soft silk pillowcase on Gojo’s bed. He holds a black shirt in his hand, lifting your arms to slip it over your head and scooping you up gently to pull it down your back. He’s so attentive you worry you’re dreaming, but you could never even dream of one’s touch feeling this heavenly. While slipping in and out of consciousness, you missed the part when he dressed himself lightly and crawled into his bed, keeping his distance from you.

As a child ponders their next move when a deer stills in their path, you hesitate to act in this silent moment where Satoru shares his bed with you but denies you the view of his face.

You stare at the dark outline of his back as he breathes slowly, his white hair falling gracefully against his pillow, and your heart aches in your chest. Eventually, you whisper and reach out to ghost your fingertips over his back,

“Satoru?” 

And he turns to face you, humming. His blue eyes are swirling in thought and he looks like he’s hung on your every word. But you have nothing to say to him, only reaching for his hand and pulling him close, slotting yourself against him without a care for what it means. Satoru feels an invisible weight lift from his shoulders and wonders if you’ve freed him from some curse. As he looks down at you, he sighs and nuzzles his chin atop your head, allowing himself this moment. 

Satoru decides to hold you tonight.

-

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 12th

anakin skywalker x sex pollen

he thought maybe you were drunk, from the way you were rambling at him, slurring at him, pawing at him. his eyes moved faster than his ears, taking in the way your smaller hands grasped his wrists, your eyes pink and hazy with barely anything but pupil on display. you were tearful, warm to the touch, bottom lip wet and swollen. his eyes linger a moment too long.

his ears catch up, and you’re begging in a tone he hasn’t heard leave you before. your voice is whining, broken, pathetic almost.

“please it—t’was an accident ani b-but I need you, need your help n’need to just— need to feel better!” you’re practically crying, attempting to drag him further into the apartment where he stands rooted in the hallway, having flown over to your home when you’d called him. he places a warm hand on your cheek hoping to soothe you, but it seems that any touch from him only made you more frantic.

“shh, hey — listen. you’re gonna have to slow down. tell me what’s going on?” his brows are furrowed, expression serious and protective and it nearly makes your knees buckle. you swallow, trying hard to concentrate and breathe to get your thoughts in order.

“was at the market on the lower levels, n’i know you told me not to go there ani b-but—” you whimper and he nods, urging you to go on. “but they were selling these plants, and the pollen was just blowing everywhere and — and it made me feel funny — and now i’m home and i— i need you, i need you to fuck me.” the last part is punctuated by you grabbing at the collar of his robes, staring up at him with so much desperation it was hard to say anything but yes.

he sighs, oddly calm as he runs a hand over his face, nodding in understanding. every little mannerism he performed was painfully more attractive than usual, leaving you standing before him shivering and whimpering over nothing, clenching your thighs together.

“told you to be careful baby, look at the state you’re in.” he sighs, guiding you by your lower back into the bedroom. he has you sit on the edge of your bed, his touch so gentle in comparison to what he really wanted to do to you. “lay back, show me the problem sweetheart.”

he’d helped push your dress up to your stomach and peeled your underwear off, in disbelief at the mess before him. you’re crying now, clenching around nothing as you spread your legs, snitching on the copious amounts of slick coating your lips and inner thighs. your hands grip your own thighs holding them apart as you tremble, sniffling sadly. he settles down on the bed beside you, trying to stay calm to not work you up. “alright baby, there you go.” he sedates you quietly with rubbing your clit with his thumb, the sensitivity making you mewl and tremor like you were already seconds away from cumming.

“got it bad, don’t you sweet girl? i’m sorry i wasn’t there.” he scoffs, but not in a mocking way— moreso in a kind and slightly guilty way, his tone apologetic yet lighthearted in a way that only anakin could pull off. “oh, i know.” he pouts when you cry.

he stuffs two long fingers into your hole, curling them up against your soft spot exactly when you need him. he’s skipping all the teasing today, knowing his girl needs him to give her what she wants. he usually works you open with one finger and then adds the other, but it appears the plant induced frenzy you were in had inspired your very own pollen between your legs, making it easy for his thick fingers to slip right in.

“what would you do without me coming to look after you like this, hm? taking time out of my busy jedi schedule to finger fuck my girl when she gets herself wound up. goooood girl.” he praises when you go limp for a while, brain seeming to be on another planet as you let the pleasure possess you, being able to think of nothing but his fingers.

but soon, it wasn’t enough — and when you reach out to paw at his crotch, muttering “s’not enough, need more.” like a crazy person, you’re not surprised to find him already fully hard beneath your palm, ready to give you what you need.

“you’re lucky us jedi have such good stamina,” he smirks after pulling out his thick cock and sitting on his feet on the bed, suddenly manhandling your ass to rest on his thighs, prodding your entrance with his fat pink mushroom tip. “i have a feeling i might need it tonight.” he’s grinning now in that classic charming anakin skywalker way, sinking his length into you completely.

requested tag ! : @hanasnx @jellydodger

[junislqve]

ᯓ silhouette — jake

syn following the break up that happened abruptly, your life has found its way through better situations. jake, however, hasn’t found his luck even months later. (310 words)

pairs ex!jake + reader | cw angst angst angst — mlist navi

note emo jake debut (this was supposed to be posted 3 weeks ago..erm) im not proud of this im sawry 😓

the pattering of the rain is continuous, lathering the streets. the bell of the convenience store ringed as jake walked out, one hand holding the heavy plastic bag.

he looked up at the rain, thankful the storefront had a roof shielding him from it.

his apartment was a 10-minute walk from the convenience store. he had a hoodie on that could last him at least a few minutes before soaking his whole body.

the rain came down harshly, not to mention the raging wind blowing at the trees. jake weighed his options and opted to wait for the rain to calm down.

he sat on the bench, already partly soaked and placed his bag beside him. he searched for his phone on his back pocket and fished it out, trying to entertain himself for however long.

until the sound of a car pulling up paired with bright lights fought through the rain stopped just in front of the store. jake spared a mere glance at the car, the plate number going unnoticed.

then he heard it, someone laughed and a wave of deja vu washed over him. he might be deluded sometimes but he was dead sure it was you, it must be you. he looked back up just as your silhouette disappeared into the store with a jingle.

jake stood up quickly, stumbling. he opened the store door with yet another ring and it closed behind him, muffling the heavy rain outside.

his heart was beating so loudly. the loudest its every been for months. he suddenly looked to the store glass to fix up his appearance; pushing back his hair, fixing his expression.

this wasn’t the first time jake had acted like this, he had had times where he’d hear someone who had a voice similar to yours or seen your silhouette and he would try calling out your name, hoping it was you.

jake took one last look at the glass, fixing his hair awkwardly, and looked away to turn to one of the corners. expecting to face an empty hallway, he ran straight to you, hands embracing you in reflex.

in a daze, you looked up, a warm smile adorning your face that has his body reacting exactly like it did months ago.

“jake?”

another thing he hasn’t gotten over. how sweet your voice still sounded after all this time. the late nights and dreams about hearing your voice once again could never have compared.

“hey, how have you been?”

every syllable uttered that fell from your lips has his mind whirling. all those months ago when he decided to break it off with whatever reason he had, it all suddenly made no sense. his wave of regret hitting him like a hurricane.

the wall he attempted to build up, all cascade away. you always had that effect on him. how could you not? when your eyes were looking at him like that. when you willingly let his hands linger on your waist.

“take me back” he whispers. he watches as your smile wavers.

“jake” you trail off.

“take me back and i swear i’ll treat you right this time”

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[gothcsz]

Dusk | No outbreak!Joel x Fem!Reader | ~8.2k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You become a park ranger at a national park in California after breaking up with your ex. You meet Joel Miller, the chief ranger there, and find yourself absolutely smitten over him.

Tags: smut, attempted assault (not by joel), unprotected p in v sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), no use of Y/N, reader is a professor, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i wrote this during a long car ride in my notes app so i’m NAWT liable for any mistakes xoxo this is also my first attempt at writing joel so i hope i did our man justice 😋

You’ve always been an outdoorsy person. Girl scout as a child, camp counselor in your teens, camp manager in your twenties— and not to mention the plenty of solo camping trips you’ve taken and the amount of hikes you’ve trekked.

Then there’s your full time job as wildlife biology professor in New York.

Being out in nature is the only time you ever feel true, serene peace. Who would have thought? It keeps you healthy and entertained. Most of the hobbies you indulge in and skills you have revolve around being outdoors.

Becoming a park ranger had never been part of your plans, per se, but after a really messy engagement that ended with the wedding being postponed indefinitely and then being overwhelmed by your friends and family afterwards; you needed an out.

The offer to become a ranger at a national park in California came at the perfect time. You didn’t hesitate to sign on to the job, especially since it was being offered to you by a long-time close friend you had met online through a Hiking Tips & More! Facebook group.

So you packed as much as you needed and booked your flight from upstate New York to California.

You’d be stationed there for the summer and the pay was decent. Whatever, you weren’t too hung up on that detail since you are financially stable enough to take the pay cut for the next few months.

After going through the motions of getting registered and settling in at the local lodge themed motel, you use an afternoon to just take everything in. You’ve never had the pleasure to visit any of the parks on the west coast so this experience is extra exciting for you.

You’re already prepared yourself to do some birdwatching and to brush up on your botany knowledge.

Before you are assigned a location and station, it’s required for you to attend an orientation of sorts for the new cohort of rangers working for the summer.

The intent is to go over routines and day-to-day tasks. Most of the job you already know from when you got your certification before going to graduate school. You thought you would have the time to become a ranger then, but life had humbled you quickly so the certification was never put to use.

Until now.

It’s around 7 in the morning when you arrive to the meeting room at the national park. Others linger around but you make a beeline towards the coffee machine; absolutely needing your caffeine fix for the morning.

Definitely don’t forget to bring that with you. You went quite feral without caffeine— god forbid any man, or bear, come across you before you’ve had your cup of coffee.

You fix the drink as you always take it, realizing you’ve just emptied what was left in the glass container.

Not wanting to be the asshole that left everyone else with no coffee, you rummage through the cupboards until you find the container with the grounds and you brew more, doing your good deed for the day.

Blowing against the mug before bringing it up to your lips, you savor the taste and let out a content hum.

“Was that the last of it?”

Your attention immediately flits up at the sound of the deep, southern drawl that’s like honey to your ears.

Before you stands a unit of a man: tall, broad— rugged. He’s obviously older, the salt and pepper colors of his hair and beard complimenting both smile lines and frown wrinkles on his face.

Oh, he’s handsome as hell.

“U-Uh no— yes… Well I just put more in. Should be ready soon.” You flash him a small smile, mentally kicking yourself for stuttering like a fool. Suddenly, you’re aware of how unflattering the park ranger uniform looks on you.

He can’t say the same, clearly, since the collared shirt hugs him snugly across his triceps and shoulders, stretching across the broadness of his chest. There’s a few pins attached to his front, and that’s when you catch the golden glint of his metallic name tag.

J. Miller

He just nods in response, his gaze fixated on you, “I recognize most people here.… but not you. This your first rodeo as a ranger?”

Now it’s your turn to nod, “Yes, but not my first rodeo in the field. I got my certification a few years back but never got the chance to use it.”

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the smell of the fresh brewing coffee hitting your senses. “Ah— I see. Figured you were new. I woulda definitely remembered a pretty face like yours.”

This has you blushing, hard, and biting down softly on your bottom lip. You can’t remember the last time someone had so openly flirted with you like this.

Your asshole of an ex-fiance quit complimenting you shortly after getting engaged. Come to think of it, most of the problems and red flags started happening after you got the ring on your finger.

Ugh, focus! You scold yourself. You have an attractive, out of your league man flirting with you and you’re here thinking of your shitty ex.

“Thank you. I think I would have remembered a face like mine, too.” You’ve never been good at receiving compliments, so you do what you do best and use humor to navigate the conversation.

He chuckles and immediately you’re wanting to hear more of that sound. It’s deep yet comforting and now you’re wondering if you’re being a weirdo for being attracted to a man’s laugh (amongst other things) like this.

You make small talk standing by the coffee machine as more people begin to trickle in. He tells you his name is Joel and that he’s been a park ranger for twenty years and a chief ranger for ten. He has a daughter named Sarah who’s in college further down in the state and you can tell just how much he cares about her by the way he dotes on her.

No mention of a wife or girlfriend, though. You don’t see a band on his finger… there’s no way this man is just walking around single like this.

In return, you tell him your name and some of your background (sans the trainwreck engagement) and he’s fascinated by the fact that you’re a professor.

His interest in you has butterflies fluttering in your stomach and it doesn’t help that he’s got the sexiest little Texan accent you’ve ever heard. Each word sending you deeper and deeper into this crush that has blossomed seemingly out of nowhere for a man you’ve just met.

Amidst the conversation that flows naturally between the two of you, there’s an aura of flirtation and attraction that the both of you seem to be reciprocating. Or at least you are. Hopefully you’re not reading this wrong.

Please don’t let me be reading this wrong.

It’s not until you both have finished your coffee that everyone arrives and he has to excuse himself.

Apparently he’s leading the orientation.

The entire time he’s giving his presentations and demonstrating safety procedures, you can’t help but ogle him.

He fits this career so well with how carries himself. Confident, steadfast, knowledgeable, fucking sexy. You just want to run your fingers through his curly, thick hair and tug on it while you ride the daylights out of him.

This sudden intrusive thought has you clenching your thighs together and that’s enough to get your focus back on the meeting and not how you want him to demolish you.

His forearm flexes, the veins protruding, as he demonstrates how to tie a tight and secure knot; his fingers moving dexterously against the rope.

Damn your dry spell and this attractive ass man.

The orientation concludes with everyone getting their assigned areas and tasks. Your folder is labeled 125.

“We’re on a two week on two week off schedule. You’ll spend two weeks manning your station before there’s a shift change. Daily tasks will be given during mornin’ check-ins along with any other pivotal information. Each camp has a binder with any additional information you will need alongside a long list of phone numbers and radio codes in case somethin’ goes awry. First shift report back here at 6 sharp tomorrow mornin’. Any further questions can be directed towards me or my partner Tommy.”

“Brother,” Tommy, who has been leaning against the wall this entire time, interjects with a playful grin and this has your brows quirking in both amusement and intrigue. He works with his younger brother. How cute.

“Yeah, yeah. That too.” Though it’s gruff, you can clearly pick up the lighthearted tone in Joel’s reply.

You want to stick around and talk with him some more, but you don’t want to come off as annoying so the second you’re all dismissed— you’re the first to be out of the room.

It’s not till you’re further down the hall that you hear your name being called out and turn to see Joel lightly jogging to catch up.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” You ask teasingly and you catch the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“Not at all. Just wanted to make sure you were okay with your assignment.” You hadn’t even looked at the folder that he had passed to you during the meeting. It had all the information about your post.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You open the file and see a small map with your area circled in red sharpie. You see the surnames of all the other park rangers littered about on the page; and then you see Miller written by the fire lookout closest to yours.

“I gave you a smaller area since it’s your first time out here and all,” He scratches at his jaw, as if he’s almost nervous to be telling you this, “Once you get the hang of it, which ‘m sure will be in no time, I’ll put ya somewhere more… challengin’.”

It’s sweet, this gesture of his. Easing you into the job. If it had been anyone else, you would have defended your skillset and wit and demanded to be put somewhere ‘challenging’, but since it’s Joel you don’t think twice about it.

“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for this.” You smile up at him as you close the folder and he matches the expression, making him look boyish as his sweet brown eyes catch yours.

“No problem, darlin’. See you tomorrow mornin’?”

Or we can go back to my motel room, get to know each other a little bit better?

“See you tomorrow morning.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

You finish packing the rest of your things before heading out for your first shift on the job.

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you straighten out your uniform and fix your neatly braided hair before exiting the stuffy motel room.

You wouldn’t be so hung up on your appearance had it not been for the attractive DILF that’s suddenly overtaken every inch of your mind.

You haven’t stopped thinking about him since meeting him yesterday. He seems so sweet and kind; but also with a ruggedness that makes you wonder what kind of lover he is.

Is he a giver or does he only focus on getting himself off? Does he bite and leave marks? Does he prefer his women being bent over or on top of him?

Yeah, you definitely need to go outside and touch some grass.

This entire experience feels like a new beginning, a chance to reinvent yourself before flying back home and starting the new semester.

Your cab takes longer than expected to arrive at the motel, which in turn makes you late to showing up at the meeting spot.

When you burst through the doors, breathing heavily, your heart sinks at the sight of an empty room and you berate yourself for not allotting extra time for mishaps.

“Thought you got cold feet.”

You jump in your spot and whip around to face the handsome jump scare.

Joel is leaning against the counter on the back wall, arms crossed over his chest making the fabric of his button up shirt stretch obscenely over his toned upper body.

“Can’t be too jumpy out in the woods, darlin’. ‘S how you get got.”

“Fuck— sorry. My cab ran late, which isn’t an excuse for my tardiness but—”

He chuckles with a shake of his head and that has the rest of your words hitching in your throat.

“Relax, s’okay. All is right. Everyone else is already situated out there. Figured I’d hang back in case you showed. Didn’t really think you’d bail. Don’t seem like the type.”

You’re relieved, to say the least, that he’s taking mercy on you despite not liking the fact that he has to.

You’re a professional, running late is out of character for you. Even if it was due to a circumstance you couldn’t control.

You let your shoulders drop, pairing the action with a soft sigh. “Thank you. It won’t happen again. I’m more than ready to start the day.”

He studies you for a brief moment with an unreadable expression and it makes you self conscious. Is there something on my face? Is my hair sticking out somewhere?

“Okay. C’mon, let me drive you to your station.” He pushes himself off the counter and you follow him out of the cabin-styled building and to his ranger truck that has the park’s name printed on it in bold letters.

“Nice ride.” You say as you slide into the cab of the truck, setting your large backpack in the back seat.

He mutters out a brief thanks before starting the vehicle and pulling out into the rocky terrain of the park.

You can’t help the look of awe on your face as you stick your head out of the rolled down window to take in the view.

The picturesque peak of the mountain ranges surrounded by lush greenery is breathtaking and it only makes you more excited to have some alone time in the midst of it all.

What you don’t see, though, is the way Joel keeps stealing glances at you. He thinks you’re so beautiful, especially with how entranced you are by the natural setting.

You finally make it to the small area of your camp and he helps you settle in to the small structure that’ll be your home for the next two weeks.

It consists of a twin bed, bedside table, a small desk with your equipment on it and a lamp.

Very home-y. You really only got the place for the view.

“Thanks for the ride… and for waiting for me back there.” You tell him, adjusting the backpack strap against your shoulder.

“S’not a problem at all. I’m posted up a few miles north so that makes us neighbors.”

“Well, if I need some sugar or something— I’ll make sure to stop by.” You tease and this gets a chuckle out of him which has your heart soaring.

“Alright, sugar, you radio me or anyone else if you need anythin’’.”

“I will.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

The first week goes by like a breeze. You spend most of your days hiking around your assigned area to make sure everything is as normal as it can be out here.

You tend to your daily tasks, listening along to your audiobooks. Taking in the scenery. You even find the time to explore some of the various native flowers and plants that bloom here.

It’s peaceful and exactly what you needed.

You come to discover that while you were already attracted to the sound of Joel’s deep, honeyed southern voice; you were even more attracted to it over the distortion of the radio.

Every morning you’re greeted by it during task assignments and when he gives the weather forecast for the day.

Every afternoon you hear it when he checks-in through the walkie talkie.

Every night you hear it when he does roll call to make sure everyone is alright and present.

Those are the only times you’re able to really communicate with him. You’re both so busy dealing with the job during the day then bone tired by night to really make anything out of the attraction that lingers.

And boy does it linger. You’ve never been this worked up over a man… like ever. Even with your ex the infatuation had never been this intense.

The sex with him was fine. Normal. Vanilla. The lovers you had before him were all a variation of the same thing.

So the bar was in hell— literally. That’s probably why you’re so obsessed with wanting Joel Miller to fucking destroy you.

You’re on the way back to your camp for the day when you come across a clearing, four men camping out of various tents.

“Park ranger here. Just making my rounds. Are you guys well?”

You smile politely at them, watching as they eye you up and down then suddenly— you’re feeling uncomfortable in your own skin.

“Better now. You out here all alone, sweetheart?”

You clock the pervy tone in his voice immediately, clenching your jaw but trying to keep an aura of professionalism.

You’re required to carry a gun and a taser, for obvious reasons, but not once did you ever think you would actually have to use it.

Yet with the way these men are staring at you like you’re a piece of meat— you’re really resisting the urge to let your hand hover over the weapon.

“Heading back to my partner now. You guys have a good night.” You lie with a forced smile that pains your lips as you turn from them, wanting to put as much distance between you and them as you can.

No way are you revealing that you are, in fact, alone with the nearest help being miles away.

“Oh c’mon, baby, stay a while.” A different man calls out and you can hear them following after you.

Your stomach bottoms out at the thought of them actually following you all the way back to your camp. Your location is marked on most of the maps that are posted around the area, in case of emergencies, but now you’re hyperaware that they could just go look for it and find you in no time.

Swallowing thickly, you trek forward and continue to ignore their catcalls until suddenly one of them has got a tight hold on your forearm and yanks you back against his chest.

You let out a squeal of surprise mixed with fear. Your only saving grace right now is your giant backpack since it keeps you from being flush against him.

“Get your hands off me!” You struggle against his iron grip, trying to use your free hand to reach for your weapon but he twists the arm he does have in his hold, and it renders you immobile.

You wince at the pain, adrenaline coursing through you as you hear his three other friends join and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what demise you’re about to meet.

You’re so fucking afraid so you channel that fear to kickstart your flight or fight— choosing both as you lift your foot then slam it down harshly against your captors foot.

Thank god for these heavy ass hiking boots.

The hit does enough to loosen his grip on you just enough for you to shimmy out; using the fleeting seconds you have to knee him in the balls before you take off running.

You hear them screaming profanities at you, calling you a “cunt” “bitch” “whore” amongst many other things. They’re relentless as you hear twigs snapping and leaves crushing beneath their running footsteps.

Your backpack is hindering you at this point so you unbuckle the straps that run across your chest and discard of it quickly, changing course to try and throw them off your trail.

You don’t know how long you run or where you run to, now completely lost as the last hint of sunlight disappears behind the mountains.

You don’t hear anyone chasing after you anymore but you’re not stupid enough to stop and check, so you do the next best thing which is to change your route again before finding solace behind a Giant sequoia tree.

Taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you slowly peek around the hefty trunk to see if they were still chasing after you.

They’re not.

Allowing yourself to feel relief, you lean back against the tree and close your eyes to keep the tears away.

Don’t cry— not now. You’re not completely out of the woods yet… ha!

You shake your head at your conscience, hands shaking as they reach for your walkie talkie to seek the help of the only man you want around you right now.

“Call to 121 from 125. Over.”

“121 to 125 on frequency 9. Over.”

You switch frequencies and immediately break procedure once you know it’s just you and Joel on the call.

“J-Joel? Do you copy? Over.”

Immediately he responds, worry evident in his voice.

“What’s goin’ on? Are you okay? Over.”

You take a second to calm down so you can concisely explain your situation.

“I was chased through the forest by a group of campers. I got disoriented, lost my bag, and now I-I’m lost and it’s so dark out. I need you to come find me. Or lead me to you… Over.”

“What do you see around you? Any distinctive characteristics? A trail? Over.”

He’s on high alert, getting methodical and procedural to suppress the rage he feels as your voice garbles through his walkie talkie.

You look around in desperation, flashlight in hand as you try to find anything that’ll pinpoint your location.

Nothing.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you weigh your options. You can walk around until you find something useful or stay put and wait who knows how long for Joel or those band of heathens to get to you.

He urgently calls your name through the walkie talkie when you don’t respond in a timely manner and you quickly snap out of your thoughts.

“N-No. Nothing. I’m going to keep walking until I find something. Over.”

“No. You have to stay put. ‘S dangerous out here at night. I’ll come to you. Over.”

“It’s dangerous during the day, too. I’m going. I’ll reach out to you when I find something… over and out.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you turn your walkie off, the batteries were already running low earlier in the day so you have to limit your use on it before you’re left stranded and walkie talkie-less.

There were extra batteries in your backpack… fuck men and their ability to ruin everything.

You walk through the pitch black forest with your chin held high, faking bravery to avoid succumbing to the fear that’s rattling in your bones.

The mosquitos bite at you, insects chirping about, and in the distance you can hear a coyote howl.

If you don’t survive tonight because of men then you won’t survive because of mother nature.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, your exhaustion slowly catching up to you.

However, your ears perk at a low rumbling noise and your flashlight snaps in the direction in which you think you hear it coming from, your feet carrying you towards the source.

You damn near burst out in tears of joy once you see the large and beautiful waterfall that flows into the river below.

You radio Joel again, skipping the pleasantries and telling him your location.

You plop down on a bench that’s on the trail, overlooking the astounding scenery and finally you let out a sigh of actual relief. What a way to end your first official week as a park ranger.

About twenty minutes later you see his large silhouette booking it towards you, taking in your disheveled appearance once he’s close enough.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, sugar, what the hell happened to you?”

He envelops you in his arms and you finally allow yourself to let a few tears seep out of your eyes and they land on the fabric of his shirt.

His smell, his touch are comforting as all hell and you find yourself melting into his embrace.

You feel safe. Protected.

“Just assholes being assholes. I ditched them, though. Barely. I should’ve been smarter and ran—“

He shushes you as you begin to victim blame yourself, pulling you from his chest so he can get a better look at your figure, trying to see if you were physically hurt.

Thank god you weren’t.

“All that matters now s’that you’re safe and with me, alright? ‘M west of here. ‘Bout a twenty minute hike. Can you make it?”

You can’t help but snort, blushing as his concerned expression flashes with frustration.

You’ve hiked through the Appalachian mountains— you can definitely do a mere twenty minutes. But you understand that he’s just trying to gauge how shaken up you are and is genuinely concerned about you.

“Yeah, I can make it.”

He pulls you into his chest once more and you inhale deeply, taking in his natural musk and how deliciously it pairs with the faintness of his cologne.

“Alright— let’s go.”

His chest rumbles as he speaks and you don’t want to leave the confines of his strong hold but you must. You’re ready to get this day over with.

You spill the details of your hectic predicament on the hike back to the fire tower he is stationed at. You can feel the energy radiating from his broad figure, his anger palpable as you describe the four men who had ganged up on you.

His strong jaw clenches, fists balling at his sides but he remains silent until you’ve finished.

You can only imagine what’s going on through his head… you can’t help but find his irritation alluring.

“If I had to ballpark it, I’d say they were roughly ten minutes north from my station. I know exactly where that clearing is.”

“You’ll stay with me tonight ‘n tomorrow after mornin’ announcements we’ll get back to your neck of the woods ‘n I’ll deal with those assholes myself.”

Your teeth sink in to your lower lip, his statement holding so much conviction that it makes your clit throb.

Then it sinks in: you’re staying the night with him… and you’re all sweaty and gross from the long fucking day you’ve had.

This would have been a much more enticing, ripe, and overall erotic scenario had today’s event not transpired.

“Not trying to sound pampered or anything but do you mind if I shower?”

“How on earth does that make you pampered? ‘S a shower, darlin’, and after the day you had today you need one.”

“You saying that I stink?”

“If the shoe fits…”

You elbow him softly as you both chuckle, not even realizing that you’ve gravitated closer towards one another.

Unlike your station, the fire lookout tower is much bigger and it sits higher up on the mountain. Large windows run all around the structure giving whoever’s inside a full 360° view of this side of the forest.

It’s absolutely stunning. You can only imagine how it looks during the day.

You look out from your spot on the wraparound porch as he unlocks the door then beckons you inside.

Yeah, this place is much nicer than yours. Probably because fire lookout shifts are usually more long term than normal park ranger ones.

There’s a small bathroom— with a shower—- in the far corner, along with a bed and some other miscellaneous furnishings.

Maybe you can sell your old place and move up here. The view is much nicer, anyways.

You laugh to yourself, lost in your own inner monologue and Joel looks at you funny.

“You good?”

Embarrassed slightly, you just nod. “Yeah, just a long day.”

His warm eyes convey the message ‘I understand’ and you instinctively smile.

“Sooo about that shower…”

“Uh, yeah, help yourself. Everythin’ you need should be in there. We get hot water up here so that shouldn’t be an issue. Holler if you need anythin’. Imma try ‘n find you somethin’ to wear.”

You thank him softly, trying not to look too desperate for a hot shower as you cross the room and close the bathroom door behind you.

Letting the shower run, you begin to strip from your clothes, cringing at how grossly and sticky you feel from sweating your ass off all day.

You feel all the tension leaving your body as you step beneath the shower head and the hot droplets of water hit your skin.

You swear this is the best shower you’ve ever taken. Why? Because you peeped Joel’s toiletries in there and decided to use his body wash and shampoo so now you smell like him.

There’s three rhythmic knocks at the door followed by his deep voice.

“Found some clothes. Can I come in ‘n put ‘em by the sink?”

You swallow thickly. Despite there being a shower curtain separating the two of you, you feel nervous about him coming in while you’re naked.

Not because of him but because of you. He’s got you all riled up without even knowing it.

“Or I can leave ‘em out here?”

“It’s fine, Joel, you can come in.”

There’s a hesitant pause before you hear the door opening, then his large shadow passing through and setting the small pile of clothes by the sink.

His eyes fall to the floor where you’ve left your heap of dirty clothes, seeing the feminine printing of your pink underwear peeking from below the khaki material of the shorts you’d been wearing. The matching bra not too far away.

He’s fucked— unbelievably fucked.

Joel hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you first met. Your smile unlike anything he’s ever seen before, your eyes a shade that makes him want to get lost in them forever, your voice a tune he wants stuck in his head all the time.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and that’s quite the statement considering he’s surrounded by breathtaking sights all the time.

He’s crushing hard despite only barely knowing you for a week.

Then there’s that underlying, primal tension that simmers when you get too close. So it doesn’t help that’s he’s getting an eyeful of your discarded garments then is aware that you’re fully naked, smelling like him, on the other side of the shower curtain.

He stands in front of the shower, half tempted to just yank back the material and join you, fully clothed, just to fuck you against the wall.

No, he can’t think like this. Especially after the day you’ve had.

So he pushes those salacious thoughts away before leaving without saying a word.

You held your breath during the entirety of that silent and brief moment there.

You could feel his hesitation, really, and mentally yelled at him to give in to the temptation and have his way with you right here in the shower.

But he doesn’t hear you, obviously, and you begrudgingly finish your shower after he leaves.

You re-enter the main room dressed in an oversized national park tee and a pair of his boxers.

His cock stirs at the sight of you in his clothes and the smell of him on your skin. He has to look away before you catch him staring and label him as a creep.

“S’not much but I made you somethin’ to eat.” He’s at the kitchenette, all the fixings to make a grilled cheese strewn about the tiny area as he holds up a paper plate with your dinner on it.

Your stomach grumbles on cue, as if remembering that you haven’t eaten since lunch.

And just like that shower— the grilled cheese is the best grilled cheese you’ve ever eaten. Not because you were starving; but because Joel had made it for you out of the kindness of his heart.

Your standards are way too low if you think a man making you a grilled cheese sandwich is the most thoughtful thing in the world.

You two finish up quickly and begin getting situated for bed.

He’s being a gentlemen by giving up his bed to you while he takes refuge in his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the room.

You tried to fight him on it (to no avail) and now you’re both wide awake, laying in silence as the night passes by.

You toss and turn on the small bed, all of the sudden not exhausted like you had been on the walk up here. You can hear Joel shuffling around too and you let out a sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice cuts through the darkness and you shake your head before remembering he can’t see you.

“No. I guess I’m still on go mode after everything.”

“Need anythin’ to help you sleep?”

Yeah, you. Just come over here and fuck me one good time—- I’ll sleep like a fucking rock.

You let out a small whine at the fantasy, your brain pulling cruel tricks on you as images of him tying the rope into a knot flash through your mind… they’re suddenly distorted and now he’s tying your wrists to the bedpost with the same adroitness from before.

“Y’okay sugar?”

Too lost in your wet daydream, you hadn’t realized your prolonged silence. Your thighs rub together, your slickness smearing over your folds.

“Just fine.”

Another pregnant pause before you hear him shuffling then his heavy footsteps nearing the bed.

You sit up straight once he’s near, the moonlight pouring in from the large windows cascading over half of his face and he’s got this look in his eyes that make you want to pounce on him.

“Y’sure there ain’t anythin’ I can do to make you feel better?”

His words drip with sensuality, a double entendre that knocks down the last wall of your self control.

“I can think of a thing or two.”

He stands tall over you, your eyes darkened with lust as you look up at him through your lashes.

It’s a ravishing sight, his fingers come down to brush some of your damp hair from your face and his thumb strokes affectionally against your cheek.

“Like what, baby?”

Oh, where do you start? A kiss, right? But you’re eye level with his hardening bulge and taking him down your throat has wetness pooling at your core.

But you really want to kiss him.

“Kiss me, Joel.”

And he does, bending himself over to hungrily smash his lips against yours.

You don’t hold back the whine at the feeling, your lips moving against each others in pure desperation as your tongue swirls around his before licking into his mouth.

You don’t know where this newfound confidence is coming from but you don’t do anything to deter from it.

You continue to make out, hot and heavy, as he crawls into the too small bed with you, pinning your body beneath his as he holds himself up with his strong forearms on either side of you.

Your hands eagerly run all over where you can reach. Squeezing his triceps, tracing down to his chest then digging your nails into his shoulders.

Joel grunts against your lips, breaking away so the two of you can catch your breath. His forehead falls against yours and you smile up at him.

“What you all smiley for?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re something worth smiling over.”

He chases after your lips again and you’re back to making out like a pair of horny teenagers. Your fingers run along his warm skin beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling how chiseled yet soft he is. You feel some of his chest hair and then you get curious so your hand falls lower until it’s at the band of his sleeping pants.

The hair there is coarser and you salivate at the thought of nuzzling your nose against the patch as you take him fully into your mouth.

Eager to feel his skin pressed up against yours, you tug at the hem of his shirt and he gets the hint, pulling back to discard of it quickly.

You inhale sharply at the sight of his bare torso, much more attractive than the mental image you’d been painting since you met.

“You are so hot.”

He exhales through his nose in a silent laugh before he descend on you again, except this time he doesn’t reconnect your lips.

His hands softly caress your body through his clothes, cupping your breasts and kneading them. This has you canting your head back and arching into his touch, moaning sweetly at how good it feels

“S’all you, gorgeous. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

This has you moaning louder as his fingers pinch your pebbled nipples and you begin rocking your hips against nothing just to relieve some of the pressure that’s built up against your core.

“Joel, please…” You whimper out, wanting him to rip these clothes off you and devour you entirely.

He knows what you want and what kind of man would he be to deny such a pretty little thing of feeling good?

He quickly undresses you and you’re so lost in the moment that you aren’t even plagued with self consciousness.

Every touch, every stroke and caress has you feeling flawless as he begins to kiss at your neck, his pouty lips sucking a small mark beneath your jaw and you hiss his name out of excitement.

His lips continue their assault against your neck before trailing down to your chest and between your breasts.

His large, calloused hand runs up and down your sides before he hooks his fingers under the band of his boxers that you’re currently still in, slowly pulling the fabric down.

“Ya sure about this? We can stop if you want to.”

“If you stop right now I might just kill you.”

He smirks against your chest, letting his curved nose run along the swell of your breast before his tongue darts out to kitten lick at your sensitive nipple.

You shudder and then he’s taking the nub into his mouth, sucking on it before letting his tongue flicker over it repeatedly.

“Oh fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

With your lower half now fully exposed, he massages your thighs and you spread them wider to allow him to rest against you comfortably.

He continues to give your tits attention but now he’s paired it with the sensation of him running his thumb against your obscenely wet slit.

Your hips buck up involuntarily at his touch and he pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

“Be patient, sugar, I promise imma make you feel good.” He husks out, just as turned on as you are, as he turns his head towards your other breast to begin lavishing it in the same attention he’d just given its twin.

His thumb dips between your puffy folds, gathering your arousal before he’s swirling it around your needy clit.

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering close as you allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure of this foreplay. You’ve never been with a man who was this attuned to your body; touching you in all the right places and having you make sounds you’ve never made before.

Your nipple falls from his mouth with a soft and wet pop as his lips trail down your abdomen, kissing the smooth skin along the way.

He reaches your mound, those chocolate brown eyes of his staring up at you as his hands find purchase on the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider for him so his broad frame can fit in between them.

“You’re s’wet, darlin’. Bet you taste fuckin’ sweet too.”

Your fingers reach down to run through his hair, lust blooming in your stare.

“Why don’t you find out?”

He groans, lowering his head until you can feel his warm breath against your throbbing cunt. With your fingers still intertwined in his hair, you tug him closer to you— dying to feel his touch where you need him most.

Usually, Joel would drag this out more. Tease you until you’re a puddled mess and begging for him to take you however he pleased.

But he’s drunk on you. His mind clouded with nothing but the vision of your naked body sprawled before him and your sheer eagerness to use him to get off.

It’s hot and exhilarating— which is why he wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your pussy, groaning as your arousal floods his mouth.

“Oh my god!” Your back arches off the bed, grip on his curls tight as he begins to eat you out like a starved and barbaric man.

His tongue flicks across your clit one, two times before exploring the rest of your cunt. The wet noises coming from his ministrations echo through the room and they only spur you further into your orgasm.

“So fuckin’ sweet, baby. I could die a happy man right in between these beautiful legs.”

Joel kisses and nips at your inner thighs before diving back in. His tongue flattens against your cunt as he takes long, broad swipes before his lips wrap around your sensitive nub and he sucks on it. Harshly.

A scream of pleasure rips from your throat at the action, hips moving against his face as his nose bumps against your clit when his tongue moves down to plunge into your tight hole.

He licks the inside of you, allowing you to rock your hips as your stomach tightens with your climax not too far away.

Sensing this, Joel brings two of his thick fingers up to your core, lubing them up with your wetness before he slides them in. The slight burn from the stretch is enough to have you seeing fucking stars.

“Just like that Joel please don’t stop.”

You don’t care if you sound needy or desperate— the whole reason you’re here in California is to experience something new and to forget about how shitty your romantic life has been in the past.

Joel’s doing an amazing job making you forget, his rough fingers pumping in and out of you as his mouth kisses your pussy.

“C’mon baby. I can feel how fuckin’ close ya are, sugar. Let go.”

His fingers curl inside you, brushing up against that spot that has you cursing out a litany of expletives as you clench around him tightly and cum harder than you ever have in your entire life.

Your fingernails dig into his scalp, grounding you as your orgasm quite literally has your soul leaving your body.

Your release coats his digits, mouth, and jaw as he eats you out through it. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to catch your breath, twitching at the oversensitivity between your thighs.

“Did so good, baby. Look so fuckin’ pretty comin’ undone like that.” He mutters against your ear, once again hovering over you before your mouths meet in a passionate kiss.

You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and it’s enough to spark another flame of arousal in your lower belly. Your legs wrap around his waist as his painfully hard erection presses up against your freshly fucked cunt.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel, please.” Your nose brushes up against his, giving him your best fuck me eyes in which he has no choice but to comply.

He shimmies out of his sweat pants, his swollen cock bouncing slightly as it’s exposed and your eyes widen as you look down to see just how fucking big he is.

Oh fuck, is it even going to fit?

“You okay, babygirl?”

You nod, eagerly. “Better than okay. I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.”

Your hand comes down to stroke him a few times, loving the way he groans out your name before swatting your hand away.

“Fuck— wait. I don’t have a condom.” He mutters and you quickly pull him down to you before he shifts away from between your legs.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill and haven’t been with anyone in months.”

You have no problem with him going in raw, you actually prefer it since you want to feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he pounds into you.

However; if he’s been giving it out to the masses then maybe you should reconsider letting him fuck you… but he doesn’t seem like the type to whore out like that and you pray that’s the case.

“Me either. ‘M clean ‘n I don’t get much action out here.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He laughs, actually laughs in your face and you can’t help but find this moment endearing.

“M’gonna have to instill some patience into ya, sweetheart. You’re a needy little thing.”

There’s a snarky reply on the tip of your tongue but it dies there as he sinks into you, the bulbous head of his cock stretching you out deliciously as your fleshy walls flutter around him.

“Fuck,” You both groan out in unison, relishing in how good it feels to be lost in each other like this.

He hasn’t bottomed out yet and you already feel so full.

“So big, Joel.” You purr out, feeling him twitch inside of you at the praise.

He rocks his hips into yours, finally burying himself fully inside of your cunt and you whimper at the feeling.

He stills, letting you adjust to his ginormous fucking cock, whispering sweet words into your ear as he peppers soft kisses against your neck and shoulder.

“You can move now. Please.” You roll your hips, crying out like a pornstar when the head just barely brushes against your cervix.

“Oh sugar you’re gonna have to keep those noises to yourself if you want to enjoy this for longer than two strokes.”

It makes you giddy knowing you have such an effect on him.

“Can’t help but express how good it feels.”

His hips cant back, cock sliding through your wet walls as he begins to thrust back into you. His movements start slow and patient, but once there’s enough of yours wetness coating the both of you; he readjusts you on the small bed and begins to set a ruthless pace.

“Yesyesyes, oh my god just like that!”

He sits back on his haunches, meaty hands gripping onto your hips for dear life as he fucks you harshly, the rusted springs of the bed crying out at the harsh movements.

“Play with your tits, baby, show me how much you like bein’ fucked like this.”

Not needing to be told twice, your hands come down to do as instructed; twisting and pulling at your nipples which heightens your arousal even more.

They bounce against your hold as he screws you with all the passion in the world. You’re hoping his rough touch against your hips leaves bruises. It’d be a lovely memory of this moment and how it’s not just a dream you’re having.

The sound of skin slapping against skin mingled with your respective sighs and moans of pleasure swirl around in the air, both of your bodies glistening with sweat from your coital activities.

He looks so sexy over you like this, the curls at the base of his neck sticking to his skin with sweat, eyes focused on your folds as your pussy stretches each time he fucks into you, tongue just barely peeking out between his lips in concentration.

You want to feel his lips on you as you cum for the second time tonight, so you reach for him and whine out his name and he happily complies, leaning over and crashing his lips onto yours.

Your tongues intertwine and you nibble on his lower lip as his hands move your legs to rest over his shoulders.

The change of angle is enough to topple you over the edge, and you cum with an aggressive shout of his name followed by your nails raking down the taut skin of his back.

His thrusts don’t relent as he continues to fuck you, and you’re too disoriented and caught up in pure bliss to do anything about it.

“Mmm baby cum inside me. I want you to fill me up and paint my walls with your cum, Joel, pretty please.”

You use that tone again, the porny one that had him almost coming prematurely. You pair it with a tight squeeze of your walls and that does it.

His thrusts stutter and he grunts huskily against your neck as he fills you up with his spend. You play with his hair as he comes down from his own climax, placing kisses against the crown of his head.

You both lay in a comfortable silence, him still buried inside of you while he holds himself up on his forearms.

“That was amazing.” You’re the first one to breach the quiet, “But I’m gonna need you to let my legs down. I don’t want to cramp folded up like a lawn chair like this.”

He chuckles against your sweaty skin, placing a kiss to your jaw before he pulls back and tentatively moves your legs off of his broad shoulders.

Joel pulls his cock out of you and you shudder at the loss, feeling his cum slowly dripping out and down your slit.

“Such a pretty sight.” He mumbles, bringing his fingers down to collect some of your mixed release before pumping it back inside of you.

You whine in protest, “Joel she’s sensitive. She just took one hell of a pounding.”

Though you clench around his fingers, your body contradicts your words.

“S’okay, sugar, I’ll take good care of her.”

And he does, god does he take good care of her and you for the remainder of the night.

[estellan0vella]

Reunited & Dearly Departed ❀ Yuta Okkotsu Masterlist

The chaos of Shibuya is deafening. The cacophony of crashing buildings, anguished screams, and the grotesque roars of curses create a symphony of despair. You stumble through the shattered streets, the weight of exhaustion and pain dragging at your every step.

Blood drips from a gash on your forehead, mingling with the sweat and grime that coat your skin. Your limbs feel like lead, each movement an agonizing effort, but you push forward, driven by a singular purpose: finding Yuta.

You remember the last time you saw him, his eyes fierce and determined as he promised to return to you. You had parted ways with a lingering kiss, a promise of reunion hanging unspoken in the air. But that feels like a lifetime ago. The world has shifted beneath your feet, plunging you into a nightmare where survival is a tenuous thread, and hope is a fragile whisper.

The streets of Shibuya are a labyrinth of destruction. Buildings that once stood tall now lie in ruins, their skeletal remains casting eerie shadows in the flickering light of fires. Your heart pounds in your chest, a relentless drumbeat that drowns out the distant sounds of battle. You have faced many enemies, but none as relentless as Kenjaku. His power is overwhelming, a force of nature that has left you battered and broken.

You had fought bravely, using every ounce of your strength and skill to hold him at bay. But it wasn't enough. He was too powerful, his cursed energy a tidal wave that swept over you, leaving you gasping for breath. The memory of his cold, calculating eyes sends a shiver down your spine. He had toyed with you, enjoying your futile attempts to stand against him. And when he had finally struck the decisive blow, you had known in that moment that your time was running out.

The pain in your side flares up again, a sharp reminder of the injury that is slowly sapping your life away. You press a hand to the wound, feeling the sticky warmth of blood seeping through your fingers. The edges of your vision blur, but you force yourself to stay upright, to keep moving. You can't afford to stop, not now. Not when you're so close.

Through the haze of pain, you hear a familiar voice calling your name. It is a sound that cuts through the chaos, filling you with a fleeting sense of relief. You turn, searching the wreckage for the source, and your heart leaps when you see him.

Yuta is a vision of both strength and despair, his face a mask of worry as he battles his way through the debris. His clothes are torn and bloodied, his hair matted with sweat, but to you, he is a beacon of hope. You try to call out to him, but your voice is a mere whisper, lost in the tumult.

He spots you, his eyes widening in horror as he takes in your condition. In an instant, he is at your side, his arms wrapping around you in a desperate embrace. The warmth of his touch is a stark contrast to the cold numbness that has settled into your bones. You cling to him, drawing strength from his presence even as your own strength wanes.

"Stay with me," he pleads, his voice breaking. "Please, just hold on a little longer."

You manage a weak smile, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin is rough beneath your fingers, a reminder of the battles he has fought and the scars he bears. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice trembling with the effort. "I tried..."

"Don't apologize," he interrupts, his eyes filled with a fierce determination. "We're going to get through this. Together."

You want to believe him, to hold on to the hope that his words offer. But the darkness is closing in, and you can feel your strength slipping away like sand through your fingers. You look into his eyes, memorizing every detail, every line and shadow. You want to remember this moment, to carry it with you wherever you go.

"Yuta," you say softly, your voice barely audible. "I love you."

Tears well up in his eyes, spilling over and tracing paths down his cheeks. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I love you too," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "More than anything."

You close your eyes, letting the weight of his words wash over you. For a moment, the pain fades, and all you can feel is the love that surrounds you. It is a fragile, beautiful thing, a beacon of light in the darkness. You hold on to it, cherishing it as your vision begins to blur and fade.

"I'm so sorry," Yuta whispers, his voice choked with grief. "I should have been there. I should have protected you."

You want to comfort him, to tell him that it's not his fault, that you don't blame him. But the words won't come. Your body is shutting down, the fight finally draining the last of your energy. You can feel the warmth of his tears on your face, the gentle pressure of his lips as he kisses your forehead.

"It's okay," you manage to whisper, your voice barely a breath. "It's okay, Yuta."

He holds you tighter, his body shaking with sobs. You wish you could stay, to soothe his pain and share his burden. But your time is running out, and you can feel the pull of the darkness growing stronger. You take one last breath, savoring the scent of him, the feel of his arms around you.

As the world fades to black, you hold on to the memory of his love, a light that will guide you into the unknown. And with your last breath, you whisper his name, a final testament to the bond that has brought you this far.

Yuta's cries echo in the darkness, a haunting reminder of the love you shared and the future that will never be. But even as the pain fades, you know that you will carry his love with you, a part of you forever intertwined with his.

In the end, it's not the pain or the fear that lingers, but the love. The love that brought you together, that gave you the strength to fight, and that will endure long after the darkness has claimed you. And as you slip into the unknown, you hold on to that love, knowing that it will guide you wherever you go.

[fabulouslyflamboyant5]

The Unrighteous Knight

pairing: azriel x second archeron sister!reader

summary: Azriel and you have never gotten along, being the outlier of your three sisters, you should have expected as much. What happens when a sparring match goes wrong and repressed questions make themselves known?

warning: canon typical violence

a/n: My first ever ACOTAR fic, I hope you guys enjoy! I’m thinking of making this into a series so let me know if you have any feedback or suggestions <3 The following chapters will be considerably longer, I just need to figure out where I want the story to go.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Azriel does not know nor understand what it is about you that draws him in like delusion to the desperate.

He is a shadowsinger, and you are no more than a cauldron made fae; destined to be forgotten in the presence of your kin.

Despite your uninspired nature, you are utterly captivating.

So much so that Azriel cannot help but scoff at your desperate sparring attempt.

Clad in Night Court training garments, your body sways unnaturally as you raise your blade to Nesta: the formidable one of your pair.

Your ability to draw a smile from the face of Lady Death sickens Azriel.

Then again, she is probably just holding back a scowl.

The reverberation of swords hitting the ground breaks him out of his trance. Regretfully, amber eyes meet your own, witnessing the contentment on your face succumb to distress at the very sight of him.

"Azriel," Nestas voice captures his attention, her upturned eyes shooting him a stern warning. His body moves against his wishes, dragging him towards the sparring ring, dragging him towards you as though the heavens have insisted on it.

Wordlessly, he picks up one of Nestas discarded swords and sends an expectant grunt your way.

Equally silent, you draw your blade and flash him a playful grin.

Gods, the things you do to him.

He moves swiftly and suddenly, not giving you any time to anticipate his actions. Then again, attempting to anticipate anything would be frivolous when the night sky practically absorbs the lines of his silhouette.

With aching knees you lunge to the ground, hands gripping the dirty terrain as you narrowly escape his eager blade.

The two of you fall into a dance of sorts.

Azriel despises how much you have improved, if not for Cassian you would certainly be unable to even lift the sturdy weapon, so he reassures himself this is Cassian's work, not your own.

And with that, he drags his weapon to your abdomen, as if you were Cassian.

You stumble back, not entirely dodging the blow, and let your weapon fall carelessly.

Azriel scoffs at your hunched form, his heart rate increasing with every second you refuse to meet his gaze.

"It hurts," you groan, pain coursing through your ribs.

It hurts him as well.

For the first time since he's encountered you, Azriel reaches forward with the intent of helping you.

He pays attention to how you flinch at the prospect of his touch. If not for your current state, he is certain you would have ran from him. Nonetheless, scarred hands meet your trembling skin and he lifts you with ease.

No words are spoken between the two of you as he departs to the house of wind.

Thank the stars that Nesta and Cassian aren't here to witness this predicament.

Though not fatal, or serious for that matter, the wound on your side is certainly quite the nuisance.

"I'm sorry, I lost control of myself, I don't know what took over me," is what Azriel wants to say.

But of course, he says nothing, only letting a sliver of regret paint his indifferent expression.

You nod silently, refusing, or perhaps unable, to meet his eyes. There is so much more to be said, to be done, yet Azriel stays placid, drowning in the self-loathing he longs to seek refuge in.

"Why is it that you despise me?"

Your question lingers in the air, ironically making Azriel feel as though he had just been stabbed.

You wait a few seconds longer, as though you are expecting him to struggle to say what he intends.

"Am I really that bad?" You laugh, devoid of any true humour.

Azriel looks away, refusing to a knowledge your watery stare.

"I'm sorry" you let out, "for whatever I did to you."

“Don’t be, it’s me who should be sorry.” Is what he wants to say, what he should say. But he settles for something much worse.

"Stop." Cool and assertive, Azriel cringes at the manner of his response.

For a split second you are able to properly observe his expression. Eyes clenched and head turned down, had you not known any better you would have mistaken him for sorry.

But Azriel is Azriel and you are no fool.

With your wound no longer bleeding, you allow yourself to sit up, removing yourself from the close reach of the shadowsinger.

‘Thank goodness’, he attempts to comfort himself, to justify his actions as though they were not treacherous.

Had it not been for your disgustingly beautiful face and entrancing presence then perhaps you wouldn't have been hurt.

‘This is your fault’, he again ventures to contend his crimes. But this time he does not believe the lies spewed from his mind.

His beloved shadows have wrapped themselves around your curled up form, comforting you; hiding you from the monstrosity you likely view him as, you should view him as.

With a single look at your tear ridden face, Azriel vows to destroy whatever hurt you.

Even if it means destroying himself.

[cyyfics]

Hello! May I please request some SFW headcanons for both Simon and the Winter King with a feminine and girly S/O?

—————

Girly S/O Hc’s

Pairing: Simon x reader x Winter King

Warning(s): None!!! Yay!!!!

Note: I hope I did this right aaaaaaaa

Mainly just did some of the ‘girly stuff’ (I consider girly stuff) that I do basically

IM SRRY ITS A BIT SHORT I didn’t rlly know what to write hhhhhh

—————

Simon

- he loves seeing the outfits you wear, he likes how some of your high heels make your legs look longer, he likes how when you wear frilly skirts you twirl around so it moves with you.

- he likes watching you put makeup on, he can’t understand how you’re able to do it. Until maybe you force him to let you try it on him. He doesn’t enjoy it, hates the feeling of all the brushes and powders and liquids put onto his face but he doesn’t say much “I think some of it got in my mouth.” But in the end he’s feeling real pretty.

- does not enjoy it when you wear lip gloss, yes he finds you absolutely gorgeous. But he hates the feeling when you kiss him, leaving sticky prints on his skin. Not in a bad way though, most times you wear it you kiss him just to annoy him.

- he will talk with you and keep you company while you do things, wether you’re sitting at a mirror putting on your makeup or you’re by a power point trying to blow dry your hair. He will be there hanging out with you, maybe helping you if you ask for something.

- I’d say that you force him to watch silly chick flicks with you, but it’s honestly the other way around. No one would expect but he’s really into those movies, and it just helps that you are too! You two love to cuddle and lay together on the couch watching mainly 2000’s girl movies or romcoms.

Winter King

- he will buy you clothes. If he can. if he has the money to do so I assure you that he would buy you whatever you wanted from the store, even if your eyes just linger for a moment too long at something he would be buying it for you.

- He likes it when you kiss him and leave prints all over his skin, either on his cheek or smudged onto his lips, he loves it. he likes other people seeing him afterwards and having them know that you two shared a kiss, that he was yours.

- He will straighten/curl your hair for you if you ask him to, even if you don’t he will still be there with you while you do it. I feel like he could do something to help your hair with the heat of the iron damaging your hair, but I’m not sure how to describe it. Something to do with his ice powers.

- he cleans your pillow for you when you’re out of bed. He will be picking up each strand of hair and will be disposing of it before the two of you go to bed again.

- he loves seeing the makeup looks you can do, he finds it amazing- beautiful, wonderful, he can’t just use words to describe it. He finds it very artsy.

- he will at some point attempt to help you with your makeup and he will fail. Somehow.

[msgexymunson]

The Rhythm Of The Night

Fem!reader v older!drugdealer!eddie

Overview: The weekend has landed and you're out clubbing, as you often do, and your hot drug dealer is tagging along. Safe to say, things get a little heated! 

AN: 90s AU, Eddie is 31, reader non specific around early 20s. I've been out for a while, struggling with mental health, so I hope this finds you all in a better state than I've been. Remember, comments and reblogs are my life blood. P.S. Before you ask, yes it is very much possible (if you know, you know)

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns, a lot of smut, some of it fluffy, slight age gap, NSFW (minors DNI or I'll tell your mother) female fingering, boob play, P in V unprotected sex (be safe guys and girls), drug taking, descriptions of drug taking and highs, sex whilst high (!!)

10k words

Masterlist

OK, it’s all good. You’re gonna be fine. You say softly to yourself as you hug your coat tight around you, too long sleeves hiding your chilly fingers. Hopping from one foot to the next you try to mentally coax yourself to a comfortable state. It’s clearly not working. 

You’re just going out. Clubbing, like you have dozens of times with your friends. And Eddie, your insanely hot drug dealer, is tagging along. No biggie. 

But it is a biggie. Since you’d met the messy haired rocker you were smitten; utterly taken by his rough demeanour, roguish grin and deep brown eyes. Eyes you could lose yourself in. You nearly had. 

Your schoolgirl crush had done nothing but expand on each meeting with him. Stolen glances and flushed cheeks peppered the memories of your rendezvous, along with perpetual flirtatious comments. You came to quickly learn that Eddie flirts just as easy as breathing. He’s a charmer; a salesman. Brushing it off as just Eddie’s personality was a different matter. Your brain told you it was just his nature; but your heart lingered on every word. 

Rubbing your hands together in their impromptu hiding place, you blow on them to attempt to warm them up, your mind wandering to earlier today. 

It was supposed to be just a regular pick up. You had needed to collect some ‘social medication’ from Eddie for the rave tonight, so you had bounced over there, happy to have an excuse to see him. 

The door had flown open sooner than you had expected, which forced an already chapped bottom lip to be sucked in between your teeth as you bit softly on the broken skin. 

"Hey bunny, you're early." Eddie's smile smeared across his face, buttery and filling; his teeth flashing with earnest and a dash of debauchery. His chin was marked with his rough stubble; a dark rugged nearly beard that was permanently etched across his features.

"Hey Eds!" You fired back with an innocent grin of your own.

You remember it clearly, him leaning on the doorframe shirtless, showing off countless cheap tattoos littered across his alabaster skin. You knew about the tattoos, but you had no idea about his pierced nipples. They gleamed in the light; the silver bars caught your eye and refused to let go. His teasingly muscular frame was fully displayed, making you dart your pink tongue out to lick your lips impulsively. He looked naturally muscular, erring on the side of skinny. More inclined to slenderness in your mind; you thought he was probably not fussed enough about his image to work out. 

Your eyes widened as you realised you were staring, and you forced your gaze away and back to his. A knowing smirk pulled at Eddie's cheeks, altogether a bit too sure of himself, as per usual. 

"Sorry, didn't have time to change, you know?" Eddie lied through his teeth. Of course he had time to change. You knew it as well as he did. A part of you had wished that he had stayed shirtless because he felt the same way you did, but you were almost certain the reason was just to see your reaction. 

"Yeah, sure, sorry to bounce in on you like this." You had shrugged in an attempt to act blasé about his partial nudity, despite how your cheeks had rapidly grown in heat. Just thinking about it now had your face flushing in solidarity. 

"Well, you are one for bouncing. Should've known, Bunny." He laughed, drinking in your figure with his eyes, before he gestured for you to make yourself comfortable. Eddie had made his way over to his desk to find what you wanted; scrambling through the drawers haphazardly. 

"Aha! There you are, you lil sucker" Eddie exclaimed whilst he tugged a familiar tiny plastic bag from the bottom drawer. It had hearts inlaid on the clip close rim; the contents were a crystalline, slightly yellowish substance. MDMA. That same baggy currently resides inside a fabric pocket in your bra. You try to forget its presence so you’re less nervous when it comes to getting into the club. 

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver!" You had made grabby hands at him which earned a warm chuckle. He held it out of reach, just to see your endearing pout. 

"Now, remember, plenty of water, sips not gulps. And don't chew your tongue." As he wagged a teacher's finger at you, he tossed the baggy. 

Rolling your eyes at that, you catch the bag clumsily. He had held out his hand and you had stared at it doltishly in a feeble attempt to get free drugs.

"Come on trouble, don't play dumb with me."

Eddie had given you an admonishing look, but there was no bite to it. As you huffed dramatically, you reached in your pocket and handed him a couple of crumpled notes. As he reached to take them, he held your hand for a second. You feel a flash of heat through you at the mere memory of his touch. 

"Now, I can't keep giving freebies to all the pretty girls, or I won't earn anything at all." 

You flushed at that; the apples of your cheeks had diffused into a deep magenta. He thinks you're pretty. That phrase had turned around and around in your head all day. 

"Besides, I'm broke right now." 

Before you could have processed how to speak properly, you had blurted out "come raving with me!" 

"Oh Bunny, that's not really my scene, you know that." 

"I know but, I mean, if you're broke, you could earn a bit of cash."

"I suppose you're right." 

"It'll be awesome, Eds, trust me." You grinned hugely as you gave him the details of where to meet, practically vibrating with excitement. 

It was only after you had left, with lingering thoughts of Eddie’s bare torso in your mind, that reality decided to hit you like a ton of bricks. 

I can barely speak to him without getting nervous or embarrassed and saying some stupid shit; how the hell am I going to survive tonight? 

Shaking your head, wishing it was some sort of etch-a-sketch, you focus back on your calming mantra, trying to block out the creeping nerves winding around your spine like unwanted vines. 

Huffing into the night air, you shimmy your coat sleeve up to check the time on your watch when a large pair of hands grab you by the waist and a gravelly voice whispers in your ear, “baby you come here often?” 

Jumping bodily, you twist to face your attacker and realise it’s Eddie. 

“Eddie I was about to punch you, fuck!” 

Eddie laughs deep in his throat, hands travelling to hold you by the hips. Your heart jumps at the unfamiliar gesture. 

“Sorry bunny, couldn’t resist. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” That grin, that damn wink. Any resolve you had melts in their wake as you stare up into those chocolate brown eyes. 

“Shall we, er, go?” You manage to stumble out, voice suddenly as skittish as a mare. 

“Lead the way, trouble.” Eddie smirks, giving your hips a final squeeze.

Trying your best to ignore the rush of blood to your cheeks you lead him around a few side streets and down an alley. You had arranged to meet your friends a couple of streets away from the club. 

“Well, look at the bunny leading me down some alley; what are you planning on doing with me?” 

You roll your eyes in his direction. “Yeah, you wish, Eds. We’re meeting my friends, just around this corner.” 

“Shame.” A further blush threatens to inch across your face at that, whilst a thought of a smile tugs at your lips. You look over to Eddie to catch him staring straight at you and quickly look away. Maybe he does like me? 

You’re unable to dwell on the look however, as the minute you turn a corner you hear a loud, obnoxious voice shout “BUNNY!” 

Before you can react a tall, lanky dark haired boy wraps himself in a koala hug around your middle. 

“Tech! Good evening!” You smile. He peels himself off you in order to give Eddie an appraising look. 

“Well, well, the infamous Eddie. Pleasure to meet you.” As he sticks his hand out. Eddie takes it, and finds himself pulled into a hug he was not expecting judging from the look on his face. Coughing, he pats Tech on the back. “Er, pleasure dude.” 

“Been pre gaming, Tech?” You giggle. 

“Only always!” He responds with a toothy grin. 

Pointing at your other friends, you introduce the short blond with the shy smile “Eddie, this is Panda.” She waves with her fingers and blushes. Pointing to the built guy with the dreadlocks you smile “And Mustard.” 

Mustard pouts, “I told you guys to stop calling me that!” His indignation is merely met with giggles from you and your friends. 

As you take Eddie’s arm and start leading him round the corner to the club you feel him bend slightly to speak in your ear. 

“So, anyone have a real name or is this gonna be a theme?” 

You giggle, “Well Tech’s name is Wojtech, it's Polish, so technically it’s his real name. Plus, he is our own very camp IT whiz. Panda, well we met her with that name, we kinda took her in, you know?” 

“Ah, that's good. I hear Panda’s are going extinct. Very humanitarian of you.” 

“Indeed.” You smirk up at him in time to see his warm smile pouring towards you, and feel a heat pool in your belly. 

Approaching a lit doorway with a metal barrier outside, your group stops behind a small queue of fellow party goers. You and Eddie hang back whilst your friends fumble about in various pockets for their entry tickets. You already have yours and Eddies clutched in your hand slightly too hard, crumpling the card with nerves. 

"And, erm… Mustard?" 

You giggle, dropping your voice a little lower given the content of your conversation. Eddie bends lower so you can whisper to him. "Yes, but he hates it. We were at an after party, he'd taken a crap load of speed. We were all winding down and he kept asking us to play Cluedo. Well Tech shouted, 'who do you think you are, Colonel fucking Mustard?' And we just lost it." You smile broadly at the memory while Eddie snorts out a deep laugh. 

Your friends get their tickets taken and after a brief pat down they're ushered through. Pretty soon you're next in line.

"Tickets please." Looking up, you meet the gaze of a tall burly doorman, all lack of neck and set jaw. His colleague looks equally unamused and threatening, eyeing Eddie up and down. 

"Here's our tickets fellas." He takes them, inspects them briefly, then pockets them. 

You hold your canvas bag out whilst he shines a torch in it.

 "Do you want one of these?" You fish in your bag and hold out a few candy suckers. Eddie's staring at you in disbelief.  

The shorter one looks shocked and shakes his head, but then leans over to grab one anyway. No Neck's face breaks into a huge childlike grin. 

"Now, I haven't had one of these in years! Thank you, miss. Do you have a grape one?" 

You giggle and fish out the flavour for him and he takes it with his large paw, fiddling with the wrapper. 

"Go on through, have a great night." 

"Thank you!" You beam at him and waltz through the door. 

Eddie strides to catch up as you start walking up a wide staircase, already hearing the tell tale thumping of heavy bass. 

Grabbing your arm, he leans in, hot breath in your ear making you shiver. 

"They didn't even search us! You've got balls of steel, Bunny." 

Blushing at the fact you impressed him, you lead him up the staircase and over to the coat check. 

"What can I say, I aim to please." 

"I bet you do." He whispers, and his lips brush the edge of your ear softly. A small gasp escapes your lips at the contact. 

As he breaks away, you know there's a smug grin smeared all over that handsome face, so you decide to not give him the satisfaction of a look, and instead focus on the coat check girl. 

"Just want to check this coat please, Eddie do you want to do yours too?" 

"Sure" He says, shrugging off his leather jacket. He's wearing his signature black jeans, hugging his legs deliciously, and a white fitted t-shirt. Simple, but damn, he looked fine. You swear you could just make out the balls of his nipple piercings, now that you knew they were there. 

Realising you were staring, you look up at his face. To your surprise he looks embarrassed. 

"I, er, didn't know what people wear to raves," he chuckles. 

"No, you look good. Real good." Coughing, you look away and take your own coat off whilst he checks his. 

As you hand your jacket over, you hear him whistle out lowly behind you. 

"Holy hell Bunny. This what you wear outside??" Turning to face him, you can feel his eyes roaming all over your scantily clad form as he strokes the back of his neck compulsively. 

You must admit, you look good tonight. Maybe a little extra effort went in knowing Eddie would see you. Maybe just a little less clothing than usual. So what?

Well aware that you looked your best in pink and blue, you had chosen a tiny blue bra top with pink edging, and a pleated blue mini skirt that barely covered your ass with hot pants underneath since you'll definitely be dancing on a podium somewhere in the club tonight. A simple pink choker and a few kandi bracelets completed the look. 

Eddie looks like he's about 30 seconds away from eating you alive. 

"What, this old thing?" You tease, giving him a twirl and a tiny curtesy with the tiniest of skirts. 

"Damn." Eddie's hand roams to his mouth, rubbing his stubbled face whilst he continues to gobble you up in his head, or at least that's what it looks like to you. You'd never known him to be speechless; he was usually the one with the witty comebacks. It was your turn to smile smugly for once. 

"If you're done perving, shall we go in?" 

"Oh I am so not done, but yeah let's go." He grins back. 

You roll your eyes at him but you're still grinning, excitement bubbling in your belly. Turning to the next set of stairs you lead the way, knowing full well Eddie's getting a choice view of your ass. 

What the hell are you doing? This has certainly swam out of the paddling pool of playful flirting and was quickly taking a deep dive somewhere. You know full well this is a Bad Idea™. The guy is a drug dealer, and you're flashing your goodies at him. You hardly knew the guy. 

A drink. It was definitely time for a drink. 

You enter the main area, a sort of meet up spot between the two dance floors. The music was quieter here, but the throb of bass could still be felt in your gut. Predictably, you spot your friends queuing at the bar. 

"What do you want to drink, Bunny?" 

"Oh, a vodka lemonade would be great, thanks." 

Eddie moves past you, close to your side since the room was heaving with people. You feel the not so subtle drag of his hand as it presses to your lower back, and dips just enough to get a feel of your ass before winking at you as he goes by. 

Well that was a bit fucking forward. Not that you didn't enjoy it, quite the opposite in fact. The fleeting touch had you biting your lip enough to taste blood. If there were still any doubts about what Eddie wanted they dissolved immediately. 

You sauntered over to your group of friends as they exited the throng of people congregating around the bar and walked with them over to a high table. No seats were free as per usual but it was at least a ledge to place drinks, and something for you to lean on. All these salacious thoughts had your knees ready to buckle. 

"Bunny! I got you a bottle of water for your party pack!" Tech practically sang out. You laugh and take it gratefully, depositing it in your little canvas bag. You know you'll need it later. 

"Thanks Tech babe." And you kiss him on the cheek. 

"Hey, calm it, I don't want guys thinking I'm straight!" He says animatedly. 

Mustard responds, "Tech, there ain't no way you come across as straight." 

"Hey, that's not true! You think I'm camp?" 

"As Christmas." Eddie's voice cuts through as he places your drink in front of you and casually throws his arm over your shoulders. Tech's eyes go wide as he not so subtly gives you a look and a nod. Panda giggles. Mustard? Well, he just looks pissed off. You notice Eddie's looking straight at him, and he's the only one who looked at Eddie and not you. You could practically smell the testosterone from here. Oh dear. 

"Bunny, you look so pretty tonight!" Panda squeaks across the table, breaking the tension. 

"Aw thanks babe, so do you, I love your top!" 

"Thank you!" Panda beams. "You look really good too Chris, by the way." Her face flushes, stealing a glance at Mustard. 

"Er, whose Chris? I only see Colonel Mustard." Tech says chuckling. Mustard throws him a murderous look. 

"Hang on, can I ask something?" Eddie asks, addressing the group. "Why do you call Bunny, well, Bunny?" 

You wince, your cheeks flushed with heat despite the lack of clothes. 

The gang look confused, glancing back and forth to each other. Panda quietly says, "I think you have to tell us, Eddie." 

"Huh?" Eddie looks puzzled, taking his arm off you for a second so he can see your face as he takes a sip of his drink. 

Typically, Tech is the one to butt right in and embarrass you. 

"Well, you gave her the name! She told us you called her Bunny and she wouldn't shut up about you and-" 

"OK Tech that's enough" you interjected, already cringing more than you are sure is healthy. 

"Oh really?" Eddie's clearly loving this. He leans on the table to get a close view of your face which you promptly hide in your hands. 

"Don't you have like, a job to do?" You say through your palms. 

Knocking his drink back, Eddie claps his hands together. 

"You're right. Whose first?" Tech sticks his hand in the air, and he and Mustard start to walk him over to the restroom to do a deal. 

"Don't think this conversation is over Bunny!" Eddie shouts over his shoulder at you. 

Panda's smile is wide. "He's cute." 

"Oh he's hot, but I don't really know him that well, you know?" 

"Yeah, but you'll never get to know him with that attitude!" 

You smile at her, she's always such a ray of sunshine. "Come on, I'm not ready to drop just yet, let's have a dance." 

You finish your drinks and make your way to the main room. The second the doors open the heat and the noise slam into your abdomen. You can practically feel the music vibrating through your lungs. The dance floor is smoky; lights are flashing and the room is heaving with dancing bodies. You shoulder barge through and find a spot for the pair of you right under the DJ booth. 

This is the reason you rave. The feeling, the music, the dancing. Being able to just let go and have no responsibilities, not a care in the world except maybe when you were going to take drugs. And when that happens, it's the same feeling but multiplied by a thousand. 

You and Panda dance away, feeling the rhythm and snatching shouted conversation in each other's ears here and there. Pretty soon you're both sweaty and laughing, and ready for a small break. 

"Bunny, I need medication, come on!" She drags you to the restroom where you sneak into a cubicle together. Fishing the little baggy out of your bra, you hand it to Panda first.

"Hearts? Cute." 

"Yeah? Eddie gave it to me. You think he meant something?" 

Panda took a bit out of the bag and put it on the toilet seat cover, smashing it into a line with a card. She passes the baggy back and you take a sizable crystal out and swallow it with the aid of some water. It tastes disgusting, but there's no way you're going to stuff something up your nose. Molly was like that, you'd grown somewhat used to it.

"Bunny, seriously, that man clearly wants you. You don't need a bag of drugs to tell you that." 

She's right of course. You're still apprehensive though. 

"It's just- well, he's a drug dealer." 

Panda snorts the line she made and wipes her nose. "Er, are you one to judge right now?" 

You laugh loudly and pass her the water. 

"You're right. I suppose a bit of fun won't do us any harm." 

"That's the spirit. Let's go have a smoke." 

You both go into the main hang out area and find a vacant sofa surprisingly. Your buzz starts to creep on slowly but surely. Panda's a bit ahead of you; the pros of snorting. 

"I really like Chris, you know." Her eyes are glassy as she tells you. 

"Oh I know. I don't think he does though. You should just take the leap." 

"Well, evening ladies." You look up and see Tech and Mustard grinning, pupils blown. 

"Nice of you to join us. Here, have a sucker, don't chew your face off." You pass the candies out to everyone, holding back a cherry one for yourself. "Where's Eddie?" 

As soon as you say that he appears, the biggest smile on his face. 

Panda bounces up. "Come on boys, I'm buzzing, let's dance." And she grabs your friends to lead them to the dance floor, throwing a wink back at you. 

"See you later Rock Star!" Tech shouts over his shoulder. 

You just about hear Mustard grumbling "why's he got a cool nickname? This some bullshit." 

Eddie flops down next to you, man spreading. You turn to him, elbow on the back of the squishy sofa, faces inches from each other. You can see from here he's clearly dropped, taken a pill or something. His pupils have grown, you can barely see the colour of his eyes. Apart from that he still looks put together. Probably more used to this sort of thing than you are. 

"So, Rock Star?" You smile at him.

"Yeah, we were talking, and some guy started talking about metal, and I said I play guitar, next thing I know I'm Rock Star. Glad it wasn't mayonnaise or something." 

You giggle at him, unwrapping your sucker and putting it in your mouth. Eddie fixates on your mouth immediately. Sensing the opportunity, you lick your tongue around it slowly, then suck hard. Letting it go with a wet pop, you look at his eyes again. 

Eddie's clearly flustered. 

"Are you- you having a good night yeah?" 

"Yeah we had a dance, I've just dropped, just waiting for it to kick in."  

Eddie reaches over to your face, fingers moments away from brushing your jaw, staring at your saccharine smeared lips. 

You hear an awkward cough to the side of you. 

"Hey, Bunny, it's DJ Skitz's set, you said you'd dance on stage?" it's Tech, hovering nearby, looking like an unwilling third wheel.  

Well shit. 

"Eddie, I've got to go. Come and watch, yeah?" 

"Couldn't drag me away sweetheart." You feel the heat pool between your legs, amplified by the drugs beginning to course through your system. 

"Come on then." In a moment of bravery, you grab his hand and lace his fingers between yours. He looks at your conjoined hands for a moment and then back up at your eyes. The look on his face is not what you were expecting. You'd grown used to the sparky wit, the smugness, the charm. Right now, he looks like a lucky little boy, shocked at the affection. You flash him a small smile and drag him into the main room and across the heaving dance floor. 

There's a small podium stage left. A girl you vaguely know is on the other side of the stage on a similar podium, a skinny redhead in yellow hot pants and pigtails. You take your position, dumping Eddie directly in front of you. 

The lights dim and your friend DJ Skitz is bathed in a spotlight. He begins his set, spinning some fast techno and hard-core that you love. Breaking out some glowsticks you lose yourself in the music, dancing, gyrating, sometimes spinning and shaking your ass. You nearly forget Eddie is there. Nearly. 

Looking down, you see him staring at you as if you hung the stars in the sky just for him. Tech's there too, wolf whistling and cheering you on. Panda and Mustard are nowhere to be seen. A part of you hopes they're off sucking face somewhere finally. 

The high is finally sinking those familiar claws into you. She's a sneaky bitch. You begin to let go at last. All the day to day bullshit, all the drama, all the hassle. Gone. You dance, just dance. Oblivious to the crowd and any expectations. Throwing yourself into the music, you dance. The thrill of the high leads you. You're guided through by the mistress of the beat. 

In almost no time at all DJ Skitz's set is over. Before you exit the stage you tell him how good the set was, how much you enjoyed it, and of course, hand him a sucker. He grins and takes it gratefully, complimenting your dance moves. 

As you are looking to get off the stage, Eddie holds out his hand to help you down. You meet him, bodies pressed together in the mess of people. 

"You wanna sit for a bit?" He asks. 

"Sure" you say as you flash a lazy grin at him. 

This time, he's the one to link hands with yours and drag you. There's not much space free given this is the lull between sets. He spots a single soft chair way off in the corner and drags you to it. 

"Mind sitting on my lap?" 

"Not at all." 

He sits, holding his arms out to you. You sink onto his lap, ass on his thighs. He wraps his arms around you and you melt into him, all social insecurities forgotten. Sparking a cigarette, he holds the butt to you, so you take a drag. Continuing like this, you share the smoke until there's nothing left. 

"So, I'm guessing you're done for the night, yeah?" You ask, staring up at him. 

"Oh, it was a very lucrative night. Might have to go out with you more often." He smiles at you. 

"Oh that can be arranged. So all out?" 

"Hmm, not quite. Two pills left. I was waiting for you, if you want one? Free of charge for the prettiest girls." He says, guiding a wayward hair out of your face. 

"Oh, how many have you given away to pretty girls, huh?" You joke, poking him in the abs. 

"None. Just you." 

The smile that creeps over you is entirely unbidden, forcing its way across your face. 

"So, you wanna go to the restroom or-" 

"Oh, I think we can be subtle eh?" He raises an eyebrow at you. Staring at him, trying to work out his next move, he fiddles with his mouth and then flashes his tongue for a fraction of a second. You see a streak of white in your vision as he guides your head towards him.

It's not a kiss, it's a transaction. You say it to yourself in your head without much enthusiasm. Leaning in, you press your mouth to his. His thick tongue pushes into your mouth, massaging your own, passing you the pill. Fingers twine their way into his wild mane as you grip on, afraid of losing a hold on reality. It would have been perfect, if it didn't taste like hairspray. 

You break away, the bitter taste of the pill too much. Gulping down water, you look at him again, taking in his flushed cheeks and heaving chest. 

"Very subtle." You quip, hitting him lightly, hand resting on his chest unwilling to move. 

"Yeah? See, I can do subtle." He says, as one large hand drifts down to cup your ass. 

'Hmm, yes, very subtle. Hardly noticed that at all sir." 

Eddie laughs, tipping his head back, giving you a full view of the veins on his neck. The feeling floods through you, making you want to dive forward to bite it. Before you can register what's happening, you're planting soft kisses to his throat. Eddie's  breath heaves even harder. 

"Holy shit Bunny, you're gonna make me hard." 

Moving reluctantly away, your eyes meet once again. The question burns in your head. 

"Why did you call me Bunny?" 

He laughs and looks awkward for a second. 

"Wait a minute?" He asks. You nod as he fiddles with his mouth again, you assume to take his last pill. He gestures at you for water and you hand it to him. Taking it gratefully, He gulps some down. You're going to have to replenish in a minute before you forget. 

"For courage." He laughs, taking your small hand in his own. 

"The family friendly version? You're sweet," he says, pressing a soft kiss to the tips of your fingers, "and cute," another kiss to the tips of your fingers, but this one lingers slightly, sending a quiver through your nerves, "and full of fucking energy, its unreal!" You laugh as he lands another kiss on your knuckles. 

"And the R rated version?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Well," he says, visibly steeling his courage, "I've thought about you," he says, laying another kiss, this time to your wrist, "how good you would look," another kiss, in the crook of your elbow. He brings your face to his, his breath whispering in your ear. "How you would look bouncing on my dick, over and over and over." You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, the touch electrifying you. He bites down softly, sucking a bruise into your skin as you attempt not to moan aloud.

Pulling away, his eyes search your face for your reaction. To be honest, all you're thinking right now is how soft his lips are, how much you want them pressed against yours again. Or on your neck, your collarbone, your breasts… 

"Well, you didn't run a mile. That's good." He laughs slightly awkwardly, fingers whispering against your arm, erupting goosebumps in their wake. 

"Oh, I'm not running." You reply, pulling him in for a kiss. A real kiss. Locking lips, you take your time, tongue swiping into his mouth slowly. He responds in kind, licking into you, his hand dipping into the back of your skirt. You can feel his fingers squeezing into the flesh of your butt as the kiss deepens. 

Every move is electric, making your hairs stand on end. You want to engulf him in the moment, to swallow him whole in it, to bask and revel in it, never ending. Eventually you both break away, if only to breathe. 

"I don't know if its the drugs talking, but that was fucking amazing." You say breathlessly. Laughing, he takes hold of your hand on his chest. 

"I hope not. We've not gotten to my fantasy yet." 

Biting your lip, you feel his fingers drag down the cleft of your ass, drifting dangerously close to your hole. You whimper slightly; at the feeling, at the narcotics flowing through you, at Eddie. Especially Eddie. He was like a whole new drug you'd only just started experiencing. 

"Fuck, you're perfect Bunny." He says, admiration gleaming in his eyes. 

"Hey you guys!" You turn to see Panda, hand in hand with Mustard, a stupid grin plastered across both of their faces. Panda waves their woven together hands up triumphantly at you. 

"About time!" You grin back, doing your own sheepish nod at Eddie, purely for Panda’s benefit. 

"Wanna dance?" 

You reluctantly slide off Eddie's lap and both of you make your way to the dance floor. 

He barely lets you move, hands trailing across your figure, dragging his fingertips over your bare abdomen, grasping your ass or the back of your thighs. You reply  in kind, soft digits trailing over his stomach, raking across his chest, sometimes stopping to rest on a pierced nipple,  feeling the steel of it over his shirt. 

"I don't think I've been this turned on in all my life," you admit in a frantic whisper to him. The pill he had given you had well and truly come into effect and you were basking in its golden glow. 

"Shit Bunny, you can't just say that to me!" He gasps out, tongue darting out to lick at your neck while you dance. 

"I have to touch you," he says breathlessly as he grasps your hand and leads you away from the writhing crowd. 

Leading you down a corridor he pushes open a little known restroom door and ushers you into a tiny cubicle. 

"Fuck, you are driving me crazy, shaking your ass in that little skirt" He says, fingertips grazing the inside of your thigh. The feeling is explosive, hammering through your nervous system like a freight train on steroids. You'd never had anyone touch you when you were high before, and the fact that it was Eddie had you moaning before he'd even touched your pussy. 

"Hmm, be quiet little Bunny." He laughs as he presses his body against you, fingers tracing up and over your clothed heat. You whimper, pushing your body against him urgently. 

"Please touch me Eddie," you struggle out, wiggling your hot pants and panties to the floor until they rest at your ankles. 

"Say that again" He says as he grins wickedly, fingers stroking just to the left of where you wanted him, needed him.

"Please Eddie, please touch me. I-I need you to." You whisper, fingers wrapping the front of his shirt into a tight ball. 

"I think I need that on tape" He huffs out, desire shining in his eyes. His calloused fingertips finally meet your wet heat, finding your clit with hardly any hesitation. Gasping, your eyes fly wide open, staring straight at his. 

"Oh fuck Eddie, oh God, please, oh please make me cum" you babble at him, the feel of his rough, sure hands electrifying every limb. 

"Sweetheart, you are something else," he manages to say, eyes shining. He sinks two fingers into you then as you open your mouth in a perfect o, feeling them glide into you, your velvety walls already convulsing. The heel of his hand presses deliciously onto your swollen clit as his fingers rub your g spot. 

"Holy shit! Eddie, what the- how the fuck are you so good at this?" You whisper shout at him, small hands clinging onto his shoulders. 

"I'm sure it's just the pills sweetheart," he laughs into your ear, taking your earlobe in between his teeth and sucking softly. 

Your climax builds impossibly fast, buzzing through your nerves until every part of your skin is singing for him. 

The rush is almost too much. Your head is spinning; vision pulsing with your heartbeat which feels like it's moved deep inside your cunt. 

"Eddie, oh fuck," you nearly squeal at him, eyes wide and wild. 

"Yeah? You gonna come for me, Little Bunny? Please, please come for me." His speed increases as you feel wetness squelch inside you. Reaching that precipice faster than you think you ever had, you freefall into it, gripping hard onto his shoulders. The buzz of your release sets your skin on fire, every rock of his fingers making you pulse and moan.

You come down, from this high at least. The other one, the drug fuelled one, is still firmly locked in. Eddie's eyes are fixated on yours; he's breathing as heavily as you are. 

"You are unbelievably hot, you know," Eddie says, fingers still buried in your cunt. He finally releases you and pulls you in for a devastating kiss. Tongues sliding against each other, you press your body to him, wanting to be closer. 

"Eddie, I really want you," you breathe out, fingertips pressing so hard into him they may well leave bruises. Sucking a love bite into his neck, he groans.

"Fuck. Yeah, I want you too, but maybe not in a restroom?" 

You pull away and gain eye contact, both of you giggling and high. 

"Suppose you're right," you laugh as you pull your undergarments back into position. 

"You wanna dance some more?" 

"Not right now, I feel fucked." He raises his eyebrow at you. 

"Not like that! Just super super high." You're floating right now, soaring, thoughts scare and about as substantial as dandelion fluff. 

"Oh shit you really are aren't you? Right, come on. I'll look after you." 

He leads you out of the stall and washes his hands before guiding you to a free seat in the main room which was starting to clear out a bit. Flopping unceremoniously into it, you feel your head fall to your shoulder, letting the seat engulf you in softness. 

"Wait right here, OK Bunny?" 

"Yup. Not going anywhere. Got jelly bones" You giggle and smile broadly at him. 

He shakes his head and leaves you for a moment, returning with a bottle of water. Handing it to you, you take it gratefully, feeling the cold water sips trickle down your throat. 

Eddie squishes next to you on the armchair, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand. 

"Well, you're not too warm, that's good. You got any suckers left? You want some gum or something?" 

"Hmm, gum would be splendid!" You say to him in a silly voice. Chuckling at you, he rummages in a pocket, unwrapping a stick of gum and putting it in your mouth. 

"Splendid?" 

"Yup!" You grin, chewing lazily. 

"Anything else I can do sweetheart?" 

"Please touch me." You see him pull a shocked face, looking you up and down. 

"Not like that! Just like, stroke me. My skin is all buzzy." 

Throwing his arm over your shoulder, he softly runs his fingers over your upper arm, his other hand resting on your thigh following the same movements. It feels so nice, each stroke calming and intoxicating. 

"Hmm this is so nice. Stroke the Bunny." You say as he laughs loudly at you. 

"You're fucking hilarious when you're high." 

"I'm hilarious all the time. I am a gift." You nod matter of factly at him. 

"I'll say." He plants a lingering kiss to your temple as you snuggle into him, head coming to rest on his chest. 

"Aw, look at the Bunny!" You look over and see Panda gleaming with sweat, still firmly grasping Mustard by the hand. Tech stands a little to the left, hands on his hips. 

"Is she alright?" Tech asks Eddie, looking more sober than the rest of you. 

"Yeah, she'll be OK, she's just really high." 

"OK, Bunny?" You hum in response, smiling up dopily. 

"Right, the ultimate test. Boop!" Tech says loudly, bopping you on the nose. You giggle, smiling up at him. 

"Well, she didn't cry with laughter. She's good. You wanna go home Bunny? We're about to leave." 

You frown. "Can you teleport me? I'm super cosy right now." 

"I can do the next best thing. Abracadabra, let's get a cab-a!" Tech announces, wiggling his fingers. 

You make your collective way out, grabbing your jackets. Eddie's arm stays glued around your waist making sure you're steady. 

Outside, he looks a little sad. 

"I guess I'll see you soon?" You gaze up at him in confusion. 

"Eddie, you're coming with us. After party." 

"Oh I don't know-" 

"Hey buster," you say, poking him in the chest making him laugh, "you said you'll look after me. Well we are going to Tech and Mustard's place. And you're looking after me. Got it?" 

"Yes ma'am." He smiles at you. 

After a very squished taxi ride which you're sure wasn't legal, but hey, a lot of this night wasn't, you arrive at their house and settle in. Dance music is softly playing, and Eddie's sitting on a chair. You're on the floor between his spread legs whilst he rubs your shoulders. Mustard and Panda are snuggling on the couch together, whilst Tech is laying on a bunch of cushions on the floor. A joint has been passed already between you all.

"You sure you don't wanna sit here?" Eddie asks. 

"And miss this back rub? Not in a million." You reply, reaching up to squeeze his hand. 

"Hey guys?" He asks the group. Various heads swivel to look at him. 

"Wanna play Cluedo?" Laughter erupts from everyone except Mustard. 

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up Rock Star." He says, but he's smiling as he says it. Standing up, he announces, "me and Panda, we're gonna, erm, have a nap." They take each other's hands and giggle as they leave the room. 

"I'll just turn the music up a little, shall I?" Tech shouts at their retreating backs. 

"Tech, you mind if we crash in your spare room for a bit?" You feel the pressure of Eddie's hands on your shoulders increase at your words. 

He huffs. "Oh great, I'm surrounded by couples. I'll just stick some headphones in eh?" He winks at you as you stand up taking Eddie's hand and leading him. 

You walk into the spare room, little more than a storage space. There's a few boxes stacked up and a bed, thankfully already made. As you shut the door, Eddie strokes your arm. 

"You sure about this Bunny?" His eyes are big and soft, making you remember why you crushed so hard on him in the first place. 

"Look, I'm not like, super high any more, but I'm definitely feeling it. I like you. I don't wanna think too much about it, all I know is that I wanna feel your skin on mine," you explain to him. No games, just pure honesty. 

"That does sound really good right now." He says, pulling off his shirt. You take a beat to drag your hands over his exposed chest, fingers tracing over tattoos. Running a finger across a pierced nipple, he quivers. 

"OK, fuck, yeah I'm still feeling it," he laughs slightly, eyes shutting for a moment. 

Taking the opportunity, you pull your top over your head. Eddie's eyes snap back open, staring at your lacy blue bra. There's no padding, you can feel your hardened nipples poking at the soft fabric, just barely visible through the flimsy material. 

You smile and pull your skirt and hot pants down slowly, leaving you in your bra and matching panties. 

"God damn."

Eddie's eyes are raking over your form, drinking it all in. He reaches out a hesitant hand, dragging a finger slowly over your collarbone, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. He moves his fingers slowly lower, tracing the hem of your bra, before stroking down to your nipple. The contact zings through you, making you gasp. 

Eddie smirks, hand reaching up to your bra strap, gently sliding it down your shoulder. Even that has you groaning. 

You reach forward and grab him by the belt, dragging him towards you, and tilt your head up to envelop his lips in a soft kiss. It's so delicate; a crush of lips, a flirt of tongues, edging, teasing. His hands trace your sides. Each miniscule movement whispers across your skin; a susurration of sensation.

Fiddling with his belt you dip your fingers into the waistband of his jeans. 

"Can I take these off?" 

"Fuck yes" Eddie says, large palms running up your sides, thumbs reaching out to graze your breasts. Fiddling with his belt you just about manage to unfasten it, unbutton his jeans and pull them down. He's wearing loose fitting boxers, but even so you can clearly see the sizable tent his hard member is making. You run your fingers over it gingerly, tracing the outline, and gently take it in a loose grip, rubbing up and down. 

"Jesus Christ that feels so good," he says, voice nearly a whisper. 

He reaches behind you and unclips your bra with one hand. It's so fast you look up at him in shock. 

"Oh shit, er- can I take this off?" 

You laugh out loud. "Well, you might as well now!" 

"Sorry, too excited" He laughs back, and peels the garment off your form. His laughter dies in his throat at the sight of your bare chest. 

You're all poised to make a joke but he doesn't give you a chance. Falling to his knees in front of you, he gently strokes at your breasts with his hands, and you feel his hot breath on your nipple. As he licks pointedly over it you can't help but tremble at the feeling, it's just so intense. 

Suddenly he takes it into his mouth and sucks. The moan that forces its way out of your throat is husky and laced with need. He plants open mouthed kisses all over your naked chest and stomach, sometimes nipping with his teeth, sometimes sucking a minute bruise. You quiver, feeling like your legs are about to give way. 

It's almost ridiculous how amazing it feels; a hot weight settles in the pit of your stomach, wanting to lash itself out into the world. Then he's sucking your nipple again, swirling his thick tongue around it. Everything's tingling; your whole body feels like a live wire. He takes the other nipple in his mouth and you whimper. A familiar feeling is building in you but you are almost scared to believe it. 

Surely he can't make me come without even touching my pussy? 

The thought is incredulous, but the feeling mounts as your legs wobble in time with the shaky breaths you're taking. 

"Eddie, Holy shit," you gasp out, fingers winding into his hair and tugging. He moans and doubles down on his ministrations, tweaking your nipple hard and running his knuckles over the hardened nub. 

"I think, fuck, I'm gonna-" the words are lost in a cry of his name as you reach a pinnacle you didn't even realise was possible. 

Taking ragged, heaving breaths you look down at him. He looks almost as shocked as you feel. 

"Did you just…?" 

"Yep." 

"Really?" The look on his face is half surprised and half smug at this point. 

"Hey it's news to me too!" 

He laughs and stands, picking you up in the process, and lays you down on the bed. 

"Bunny, that was really hot." Standing at the edge of the nightstand, he's staring at your nearly nude form as if it were some work of art. You take the opportunity to take your jewellery off and leave it in a pile on the bed. 

"I didn't know I could do that." You smile at him, shrugging. 

"I didn't know anyone could do that!" 

Pretty soon you're both laughing as he gets on the bed next to you. 

"I hope I wasn't too loud." 

Eddie snorts a laugh. "Bunny, be quiet for a sec and listen." 

You snuggle into him and listen. Oh. 

"Is she- squeaking?" You press your lips together, willing yourself not to laugh. Eddies shaking under you with barely contained amusement. Soon after there's a definite grunting noise. 

"Oh God I hope Techs put headphones on or he's gonna be scarred for life!" 

Peals of laughter erupt from the both of you. 

Laying there, stroking each other's skin, you feel more comfortable with Eddie than you've ever felt with any other man. This just feels right. There was no other way to explain it. Giving him a feather light dusting of kisses to his jaw, you realise your hand is roaming further and further south, reaching the waistband of his boxer shorts. You run your fingers across the very edge of it, dipping into the hem oh so slightly. Abs tense under your touch. 

"Quit teasing Bunny," Eddie says; he's almost bucking into your touch, willing your hand to go lower. You ping his underwear with your finger, watching it snap back onto his skin making him jump. 

"Can I take-" the sentence is cut short however, as Eddie pulls his boxers down and flings them across the room. Giggling, you look down. And stop giggling. 

"Jesus Eddie, it's huge!" You thought it was big given you felt it earlier, but seeing is most definitely believing. No wonder he's so confident all the time.

"Flatterer." He quips back, but you can tell how pleased he is with your words. Moving to straddle him, you rub your thinly clad core against it, earning a heavy moan from each of you. Eddie's hands grasp your hips and run inside your panties. 

"Take these off before I rip them off." You gasp at his words and look into his eyes. 

"Please?" He adds almost sheepishly. You smile and lean awkwardly to the side, pulling them off and away. You're straddling him then, entirely naked, soaking pussy dragging along his throbbing cock. Eddie's eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, firm hands holding onto the meat of your thighs, helping you glide back and forth. 

"Im- I'm on the pill. I'm clean. I promise. Can I just- slip it in?" You ask sweetly, dragging your hands up and down his lean sides. 

"Er, I think I've hit my head and I'm making this all up. Say that again for me, Bunny?" 

You giggle, and lean over him, breath whispering into the shell of his ear. 

"I wanna fuck you raw. Can I? Pretty please?" 

He groans so low it's almost a growl, pulling your face toward him for an urgent kiss. His tongue massaging yours and the drag of his pulsing cock rubbing against your clit is setting off fireworks in your head. 

You slide and slide against him, when his cock slips inside. You wish you could have the noise Eddie makes in your mouth on record; it's low and primal, a violent hum. You tease him a little, giving him tiny kitten licks in his mouth as you circle just the tip, and take in a little more, a little more. Suddenly pushing your hips down he practically whimpers, eyes scrunching shut as he's fully seated inside you. 

"Holy shit, Bunny what the- how is this so good, fuck!" 

You have to agree, the feeling of him deep inside you has you fluttering already, cunt throbbing around his manhood. 

You move to lift off him slightly, and slam back down. 

"Bunny, please, go slow," he says, his eyes pleading with you as his fingers grip you tightly. 

"I was trying to fulfil a certain fantasy?" You smile at him, and begin to grind back and forth at a languid pace. 

"And I appreciate that," he says as you giggle. His large hands run across your skin, running over your sides, your stomach, your breasts. Each touch has you moaning, back arched in pleasure. 

"This is too good Bunny. I want it to last." 

Continuing your slow, deep pace, you feel your swollen clit singing, dragging across his pubic hair on each pass. The feeling transcends any sex you'd had before. It wasn't in the same league. Hell, it wasn't even the same game. You lean towards him, hands tucking underneath his muscular shoulders, holding him close to you. 

"Have you had sex when you were high before?" You whisper to him as you grind deliciously back and forth and nibble on his earlobe. 

"Yeah, but not as good as this. This is fucking incredible," he responds, planting kisses over your jaw line. 

Your orgasm is creeping closer and closer as you moan in his ear. 

"I can feel you shaking baby. You gonna come?" 

You can only nod against his neck as he holds you close. 

"Look at me. Eyes on me Bunny." 

You lift your head, foreheads nearly touching. Your whole body is quivering, mouth hanging open. The hotness in your stomach is turning to liquid fire, reaching out to lick over your limbs. 

"That's it baby, let go." 

As if your body was waiting for permission, you feel yourself become truly overwhelmed by your own pleasure, exploding through you with an intensity unmatched by anything you've ever felt before. And it just keeps coming. Rolling over you in delectable waves for what feels like forever. 

Finally, the waves begin to ebb. Your legs are shaking uncontrollably as you try to regain some semblance of breath. 

"Wow." Is all you can manage. He smiles up at you, reaching to rub his thumb up and down your jaw, settling the softest of kisses to your lips. 

"Right, hold on Bunny." 

You're clinging to him as he turns you over until you're underneath him, his narrow hips slotted between your legs, without ever leaving your cunt. 

"Smooth," you say, smiling at him.

"Well, I try." He grins back, grasping one of your hands with his and holds it over your head, fingers entwined as he slowly pumps in and out of you. His other hand is hoisting your leg around him, keeping your knee high. You're in rhythm with each other, moving as one, meeting his hips again and again. 

Each thrust of his hips has you keening into him, sending more waves of intense pleasure coursing through your nerves. 

"Eddie, oh God!" You grasp at his shoulder, fingernails biting into his flesh. 

"Come with me my Bunny, come with me, oh fuck!" 

You come together, the feeling of him throbbing his release into you sending you over that edge once again. 

He nearly collapses onto you, barely holding himself up on an elbow as he brings his lips to yours. You kiss, and kiss, and kiss again. 

"That was incredible," he whispers on your skin, nose nudging yours. 

"Splendid" you grin back at him, making him chuckle. 

"Wait, let me clean you up. Where's the bathroom?" 

"First door on the right. There's a wash rag on the bedside table." 

"Your friends really look after you, don't they?" He smiled, grabbing the cloth and donning his boxers. 

He returns moments later and wipes at you with such care, cleaning you up. 

Whipping his underwear off again, he snuggles up behind you in bed. You were finally starting to feel a little tired, but you know it'll be a couple of hours before you can sleep with the ecstasy in your system.

Not that you minded. This was heaven right here, Eddie's warmth pressing against you, leaving paper trace kisses over your shoulder. 

"Eddie," you say in a moment of bravery, "what are we?" 

"I thought you didn't want to think about it." He says. You can hear the smile in his voice. His arm moves over your side, hand coming to rest on your own. 

Honestly, you're not sure why you'd said it. Well, there was one reason. You're not sure you could deal with this being a one night stand. The sex was too incredible for that. 

"I know I said that, it's just- I don't want this to be it." 

"Hmm," he hums into your shoulder, "what are we?" He leaves a soft kiss, "we're friends." You scoff a laugh and go to turn to him, but he holds you fast. 

"Let me finish. We're friends," he continues, kissing your shoulder again, "friends who fuck," another kiss, a lingering one that makes your toes curl, "daily." You giggle, lacing your fingers with his. 

"Friends who go on dates occasionally," he says, beginning to kiss at your neck. His length is hardening, you can feel it rubbing against the flesh of your ass. "friends who don't sleep with anyone else." He finishes, teeth nipping at your neck. 

The grin that flows across your features comes unbidden and nearly surprises you.

"Eddie?" He only hums in response, starting to suck a bruise into your neck, his dick falling into the cleft of your butt as he pushes against you.  

"I think that sounds a lot like-" you begin but he shushes you softly. 

"You said you don't wanna think. So don't." He unlocks hands with you, fingers tracing down your abdomen and gently sliding between your wet lips. Gasping as he lightly rubs against your clit, you buck against his throbbing length. 

"You are so sexy, you know that?" He huffs, slipping his member between your legs.

"Me? You're hot Eddie." He snorts in disbelief. 

"Why didn't you ask me out?" You ask, as you feel the tip begging for entry. 

"Hey, I tried to charm the pants off you." He said, nipping your earlobe. 

"Well, I suppose it worked, but I thought you were just like that with all the girls" you reply, allowing him to slip inside you. 

Moaning in unison, you rock against him. His breath is a whisper in your ear.

"No. Just you."

You keen at his words and he doubles down on his efforts on your clit forcing you to grip onto the bed sheets for dear life as if you'd float away. 

"Eddie, fuck that's- that's so good" you purr, backing into him. 

"You gonna come for me Bunny? My little Bunny? Go on, come for me," his voice is bordering on begging, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit. Crying out, you clench around his cock, releasing again. 

Grabbing you by the hip, he thrusts harder into you, again and again, until he's moaning his orgasm out, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

Bringing his hand up to your face, you drag your lips over his knuckles, settling warm kisses over each one. 

"You know, I don't really know you, not really," you smile. 

"Well, get to know me. What do you want to know?" 

"I don't even know how old you are. 28? 29?" You guess, kissing him again. 

He slips out from you and coaxes you to turn so you can curl into his chest. 

"31 actually." 

"Well, see that's a deal breaker, sorry," you joke, fingers tracing his chest tattoos. 

"Well, we had a good run," he responds in kind, kissing you on the forehead. 

You're not entirely certain where this is going, what the future may hold, but right now you're just happy to be in Eddie's arms. 

Masterlist

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple @corrodedhawkins @lunatictardis @roanniom @pxrxcxa @sillypurplemurple @sinczir @lightvixxen @eddiemunsonfuxks

[lou-struck]

Another Layer

Lucifer x Reader x Mammon

~ After an incident during magic practice, you no longer have a jacker to wear on your chilly walk home.

Genere: Fluff

Wc: 1.4k

Warnings: Brotherly competition, Mc is shorter than the brothers, mention of Mc overworking themselves and not taking care of themselves. Reader lights themselves on fire harmlessly.

It finally happened; you accidentally lit yourself on fire.

The enchanted flames from your fireball spell singe the fabric of your jacket, and you hastily throw it to the ground with a shriek. Your foot stomps frantically on the light pink flames in an attempt to salvage the garment, but you are unsuccessful and can only watch as the enchanted fire eats through the fabric, leaving nothing but a pile of ash in its place.

"Damn," you mutter, biting the inside of your cheek. You really liked that jacket.

With another huff, you grab your bag and prepare to leave. Next time you decide to practice your magic on a day off, you'll remember to wear the magic-proof garments Solomon told you about.

Sensing your presence, the double doors part for you magically. The heated air of the building disappears as soon as you step across the threshold. You shiver; the air is so much colder than you remembered it being on your walk over.

The thin short-sleeved shirt you're wearing does little to keep your body warm as hundreds of little goosebumps prickle your skin, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep the little heat your body is letting out.

The cold wind seems to make your walk to the House Of Lamination much longer than usual as it whistles a melancholy tune that bounces off the iron fence posts along the walkway. The dark clouds overhead foreshadow a heavy bout of rain coming your way.

You quicken your pace, hoping to soon be back home and in the arms of one of your much warmer demons. 

Maybe you can take a nap with Belphie and watch the storm through the roof of the observatory?

Maybe Asmo will let you warm up in his bathtub?

Maybe Satan could read to you by the fireplace?

Whatever it is you end up doing, you know that you will be warm and relaxed, unlike now. 

The wind blowing in your ear and the drumming of your heartbeat makes it close to impossible to hear anything else as you turn a corner blindly and bump directly into someone's back.

"Oi, what gives?" a familiar voice says. Taking a step back, you realize that it was Mammon you had just bumped into. Just beyond him, you notice that Lucifer is with him as well, his arms crossed over his chest. "Huh, Mc? What are ya doin out here?" The Avatar of Greed asks, trying to hide the elation on his features at your presence.

"I'm sorry, Mammon, I didn't mean to bump into you," you say quickly. "I was just leaving the private casting room at RAD and wanted to get home before the rain came."

"Mc," Lucifer addresses, looking you over. His discerning gaze lingers on your exposed arms and shivering figure before narrowing his crimson eyes. "Where is your jacket? You had it on when you left earlier today."

Shit, of course, he would notice that kind of thing.

"I kinda set it on fire," you admit with an innocently guilty smile on your face. 

"Just the jacket?" he presses, raising a brow.

"I kinda, maybe, sorta was wearing the jacket when it was set on fire," you admit directing your gaze to the all too interesting pavement. The random cracks and stones are much less humbling than this conversation with Lucifer is.

"So you set yourself on fire."

"Yes…accidentally."

Lucifer's hands reach up to rub his temples in exasperation as Mammon gasps.

"What do you mean you set yourself on fire?" he exclaims, reaching out to grab you by the shoulders. His hands are warm on your cold skin, and his face is filled with worry. "What the? Your skin is so cold."

"I was t-trying to get home. "You say softly, doing your best to fight the shivers.

"Silly human, ur gonna get sick out here." Mammon sighs, pulling his leather jacket down his shoulders and placing it over his own. Although leather may not be the best material for generating heat, already, you feel as if you are being held tightly. 

Breathing in, you smell just a bit of Mammon's cologne. The scent comforts you, warming you up in a different way as you look up at the handsome demon whose body is physically shielding yours from the wind. "I feel much better now, thank you, Mammon."

His cheeks turn pink at the sight of you wearing his clothes, and he turns away, "It's nothin'; the Great Mammon just doesn't want to hear ya sneezing tonight, that's all."

"I see," you nod, not fooled at all by the tsundere's words. "So that's all?"

"Ya might want to stay close though, so ya don't get too cold."

Just as he is about to take your hand, Lucifer clears his throat.

Mammon, do you really think that will warm them up sufficiently?" The Avatar of Pride says, taking a step between the two of you. He looks down at you affectionately as he speaks. "Mc, you should really wear my cape instead; you would be much warmer.

"Oi, they're not taking it off," Mammon says protectively, zipping up his jacket all the way up to your throat childishly as a way of proving his point. 

"Hmmm, then I suppose I'll just have to give them another layer to keep them warm," he replies, taking it off his shoulders and draping it over you like a blanket. The weight warms you even more as you feel the soft fur against your face. 

"How is that, Love?" he says, leaning in to secure it in place. "Is this other layer warming you up?"

"Mmhmm, I feel much better," you sigh, giving him a content smile.

"You really shouldn't be so reckless," he breathes into your ear; his breath is warm but sends a different kind of shiver down your spine. "What would I do if you were to catch a cold out here?"

"I'm sorry?" you offer, unconsciously leaning into his warmer frame. He chuckles warmly and allows you to lean on him.

"Sounds about right," Mammon says, wrapping an arm around your other side. "Ya really gotta take better care of yourself, or at least let me take care of ya. I'm your first, after all."

You giggle as the three of you go along, not noticing the subtle way both brothers are trying to steer you closer to their side of the walkway. 

"Oh," Lucifer says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "It seems the cape is a bit too long for you; I wouldn't want you to fall. Allow me to take you back." 

Looking down, you see that he is right; the dark fabric of his cape is dragging behind you. "Are you sure?" you ask. "We are almost back at the house; I can walk the rest of the way."

"Don't be silly; the rain is about to come down, so it's better if I carry you," he says with the persuasion expected of a demon such as himself. You find yourself nodding, and he scoops you into his arms effortlessly.

"I wanted to take them," Mammon whines, reaching a hand out to you with puppy dog eyes. 

"You didn't ask Mammon," Lucifer smirks at his younger brother before looking at you with a loving expression. "Is this comfortable?"

"Very," you nod, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of the two demons' clothing enveloping you.

Lucifer is too proud to ever admit it, but getting to take care of you like this is one of his guiltiest pleasures. Especially when you are draped in his clothing and secure in his arms. 

You work too hard, and they all know it. 

"Not fair," Mammon pouts, reaching out to hold your hand in hopes of getting some kind of physical contact with you.

You smile and give his hand a squeeze. "Just you wait, Mc; when we get back, I'll make ya the best cup of tea you've ever had, and then we can go and watch a movie under all those blankets you like."

"That sounds good." you say, "We could all watch something together by the fireplace; I can even show you guys the spell I was working on."

Lucifer and Mammon lock eyes worriedly, "Uhhh, maybe not." the white-haired demon says.

"Perhaps you should rest for now." Lucifer offers. "You can go and get changed, and I'll take care of the fire."

[billskeis]

pls create clingy tom fluffs

ᡣ𐭩 clingy tom while sick

it was two in the afternoon, you lay in bed. you put down your phone in hopes that the throbbing headache you’ve had since last night went away. you caught a cold most likely from staying out clubbing, maybe you shouldn’t have taken that stranger’s drink.

asswipe, you thought, who goes to the club sick?

“baby?? you awake? i’m back!” you hear a shout from afar with the noises of a door shutting and the rustling of plastic bags. with the shuffling of shoes assumingely being taken off, your boyfriend enters your bedroom of your parents house. they’re out on vacation and agreed to let tom stay in the meanwhile.

his face immediately drops when he sees you in your state. tissues everywhere, eye bags accompanied your face, your nose was suuuper red, which was really embarrassing but tom thought that was cute.

sweating, many blankets lay top of you as this was his way of making you feel better by letting you ‘sweat it out.’

“oh schatzi look at you, and you insisted we go out today!” he sets down the bags gently near the foot of your bed, sitting down on the mattress that dips with his weight, “tom! it’s okay! we can still go out just let me take a hot steaming shower and get ready quickly—i wanna go see that movie,” he shakes his head at you and pushes you back down to lie down as you attempt to get up.

he ruffles the head on top of your head, “as much as i love you and i wish we can go out, you’re in no state to..” he lays his head on your legs, the plush blanket cushioning him even further. “but tom—“ “no baby! i’m not letting you get up until you’re one hundred percent better, yeah?” he now grabs one of your hands to play with your fingers, admiring how they look.

you scoff, he’s being awfully stubborn for someone who can’t seem to not touch you.

“tom! get up please! i don’t want you getting sick,” “i’m not moving, your lap is comfortable.. i thought you weren’t even sick,” he snorts. rolling your eyes, you sniffle, feeling your nose becoming runny, you reach to grab a tissue to blow your nose.

“don’t get up. i’ll do it,” he gets up as fast as his body lets him and grabs a tissue from the box on your bedside table. holding the tissue up to your nose, you blow, he pinches the tissue to catch all that came out. “better?” he asks, you nod obligingly.

that was pretty nasty but oh well whatever floats his boat i guess.

he then bends down to grab something from the bag, opening the lid, he shakes a pill into his hand. “take this, i know you don’t like these but i at least got the strawberry flavour you liked,” you pouted, staring at him.

ingesting the pill, he quickly holds the glass of water to your mouth to drink it. knowing that pills are particularly hard for you to take, he knows that by drinking water after conditions your body to take it in easier.

the pill was sweet, yet the flavour that lingered on your tongue was only for a second being washed by the water.

he kisses the side of your cheek, “good job pretty,” tom began taking of his sweater and swiftly entered the bed to cuddle beside you. “um hello? do you not remember what current state i’m in?” moving your head a bit, his arm snakes under the side of your neck to hold you closer to him, “relax i’m not going to get sick, you baby, just let me hold you.”

“wow cannot get enough of me huh, after the way you were dancing with me last night?” “you were super hot that night couldn’t help my self, plus, i’m only doing this because you’re weak and cute,” you scoff, is he serious? “yeah right.”

he laughs at you and just kisses your forehead, you then peak down to look at the many things he bought from his little trip. they were all your favourite snacks. medicines, tea bags, oh, and more medicine.

on a side note, being the twin who was basically immune and had to always take care of fragile bill, he has a known habit to panic and instead of asking for help, his stubborn ass buys everything in the store, gambling on which medicine to take and hoping for the best.

luckily for you, he had bill to teach him properly which ones to buy, but habits never die do they?

now you weren’t hungry or feeling snackish, so you just lay with tom, nuzzling your head into his chest. he’s warm, warm and comfortable, and you’re so grateful to have someone like him.

kissing the top of your forehead, he switches on your TV to put on a show the two of you both like. “i’m feeling better already,” “i’m glad baby, you’ll be back to shape in no time, well, because of me of course!”

that whole day, tom would not leave your side. even when you had to go to the bathroom. he’d sit inside the room until you finished and would wash your hands for you.

he says that the joint effort of doing it with you gets rid of the germs better.

this was just his excuse to keep touching you in some sort of way.

you enter the room with a bucket of cold water and a towel. setting it down, you soak the towel into the basin and ring out any excess. folding the towel to fit, you place the now cold compress onto tom’s forehead who’s laying in your bed.

“i told you, silly, that you’d get sick.” you shake your head in disapproval to see tom frown. he looks up at you even though it’s hard for him to keep his eyes open. now we did say tom barely ever gets sick, but once in a blue moon when he does, hits him HARD.

“what can i say? i can never get enough of you, need to be with you all the time,” “you’re corny,” “and you love it.”

[veala2]

✦ “ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜꜱɪɴɢ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ.” ✦

fluff (angst?) prompt: “You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

SYNOPSIS - It was your choice, and he didn’t like it. After coming back from helping your allies in Wholecake, tensions grow between you and your captain and your interactions become awkward. The now freed Wano gives you and Law the chance to speak to one another and express both of your true feelings.

CW - spoilers! mentions of stuff from Wholecake to the end of Wano, gn!reader, usage of “Y/N”, mentions of arguments, reader fights off and kills a beast, mention of fainting, holy this is a lot more angsty than I imagined.

A/N - Sorry guys, a lot is happening in my life rn so if I’m not posting that much that is why. Hope you all enjoy this :))

To say your captain is always stressed is like saying a cat likes milk. It’s just so common. Unfortunately, Law’s stress levels currently were as common as a pig that can fly.

The Heart Pirates made it to Wano just a week prior. You’d decided to follow the handful of strawhats to Whole Cake to help them retrieve their friends and the poneglyph that Big Mom kept in her protective castle.

Much to your captains dismay, to say the least. The two of you fought before you left. He hadn’t wanted you to leave, and you wanted to do something to help with your friend's crew.

Words were said. He argued the strawhats as not being their friend, and how you should “join them if you loved them so much” while storming off. Leaving you saddened and upset. As the mission went on, you couldn’t help but worry for your crew.

Well… more for your captain than crewmates.

Due to the strong currents of Wano upstream entrance, you crash landed in the country and were now searching for your crew in an attempt to keep yourself out of any danger. Which was a lot trickier than you imagined, being that you were venturing through a forest that was packed with dangerous animals. Leading you to your current situation.

“Take this!” You exclaimed, taking your weapon and striking the creature. It screeches in pain, dropping to the ground and effectively disabling it for good.

You take a second to breath, walking up to the beast and dealing the finishing blow. The rush of adrenaline slowed and you steadied your heart rate. All of a sudden, you hear a loud sound of feet coming towards you. Without a second thought you ripped the weapon from its place from the beast's corpse. Ready to attack. When the threat you had thought was completely different.

“Y/N! IT’S US! DON’T ATTACK!” Called a voice that you had remembered. You jumped with joy as you ran over to your crews very own first mate, Bepo. As he wrapped his soft body around you in joy.

“Bepo! Oh my god- I missed you so much!” You gushed. From behind, Sachi and Penguin came up and hugged you tightly as well. It wasn't long before your captain came.

“Captain…” You mumbled. He kept his gaze on you, a frown displayed prominently on his face. Though, you could make out a hint of sadness in his eyes.

Law was always a very proud man. Things not going his way would be difficult for him, and he’d say and do stuff he soon regrets later. He has his faults for sure. But he always made up for his mistakes. In his own Law way.

His silver eyes looked you up and down. You couldn’t help but notice his hands that slightly shook. It was clear his eyebags had gotten heavier and darker since last you saw him. You wondered if it was because of the plan or you.

Before you could say anything, he walked up close towards your direction. Your heart rate increases once again. His arm reached up, causing you to close your eyes in a knee jerk reaction. After a couple of seconds you opened your eyes. Only to find your captain holding out a leaf in front of you, and a lingering feeling of a hand in your hair.

“You had something in your hair.” He states, tossing the leaf aside. A blush came on your face, and you awkwardly laughed.

“Ah. yeah, I guess so. Thanks, captain.” You sputtered. Walking away, you turn your head back to your captain talking to Bepo.

He turns his head to you, and your eyes lock together for a second before the both of you let go. A sinking feeling surfacing in your stomach. It felt bad… but also felt good. A confusing feeling for sure.

Trafalgar Law was at a standstill. For one, he had a pounding headache and his stress levels almost made him feel nauseous. At the same time, he felt funny at the sight of seeing you again. He couldn’t tell if he was happy or upset.

It was just a confusing feeling for sure.

The war was over.

After days of preparing, planning and fighting, the country of Wano was free and it was the perfect time to party and rest.

At the sound of Kaido defeated, you fainted. The fight took everything out of you. You had awoken to the sound of your friends cries for you to wake. And it had taken a moment before you realised you weren't dead, and your crew was cheering with joy and not fear.

After wandering around you had caught your captain. Sat upon an engawa that viewed the entirety of the Flower Capital in its joyous and festive mood.

He sat with his clean kimono and usual hat put off to the side. Letting you gaze at the back of his raven hair. He seemed content with his relaxed gaze peering over the city.

With caution, you waltzed over to him and lounged next to him. Not saying a word. He glanced over in your direction.

“Oh, Y/N. You’re awake.” He says, surprised. You keep your mouth shut and keep on looking ahead. He starts again, taking a long breath before.

“Y’know, those idiots wouldn't stop crying about you. They kept asking if you were awake every five minutes. God, they’re so annoying…”

You figured he was talking about Bepo, Sachi and Penguin. As they burst into tears at the sight of you awake and well.

“The whole country is celebrating after everything. It’s ironic how they’re the same people who supported the bastard.” He comments, with a scoff.

“I can still feel the pain from before. All that planning and strategizing went to waste thanks to Strawhat- ya’s idiocy. What would he know about a good plan? He invited you to go on that stupid rescue mission.”

“God, I was so furious when you left. You were reckless, stupid and a fool. So adamant about “helping a friend” and “doing it for us”. You didn’t have to prove that you were a good person by leaving.”

“You have no idea how worried I was. For our plan to work, for us to come out of this alive… for you. I’m still a little shaken from everything.”

“Why did you leave us? I’m still…”

“Damn it, Y/N, will you say something!?”

He asks, loudly and with a hint of anger behind his eyes. Along with another hint of sadness. You couldn't help but smile at his silvery eyes as they tried to pierce through your own. But with no avail.

Your hand went up, a finger pointing towards his messy, black hair. You giggle.

“You have something in your hair, um… do you want me to get it out?” You ask, smiling.

A small blush forms on his pale blue cheeks, stretching out to the very tips to his ears. He slowly nods and lets you gently remove the pale pink sakura petal out. A stark contrast to his hair. You giggle once more and with a soft blow, you watch the petal fall down to the restless crowd below. Disappearing into the Flower Capital.

“And this time I asked.” Adding on with the question. Making him embarrassingly scoff and look away. Like a little boy.

“Yeah, thanks…” He mumbles, crossing his arms together.

Without hesitation, you scooch in closer towards him and rest a head on his shoulder. Mainly to test the waters to see what he’ll do. Law tenses, but lets you do what you please. A shaky breath leaving him.

“Law, listen,” You start, gaining his attention by him turning his head to you, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know how much stress I put you under, really. The guys wouldn’t stop talking about it. And- for the record- you weren’t the only one worried. I couldn’t leave the thought of something happening to you in the back of my head.”

His eyes widened. Not leaving your illuminated face. You look over to him, smiling.

“And… for the record again, I was mainly worried about you. You and your stupidly cute worried face.”

A pregnant pause took hold. You wondered if you said something wrong, your heart skipping a beat. Glancing over, you guessed a not so pleased Law. But instead, you were given a captain with a smile. A growing and bright smile.

“God, that’s so stupid. Just like your stupidly cute face, too.” He says, repeating your last sentence in a way that made you playfully nudge him in the shoulder.

The two of you spent the night together just sitting and watching the night progress. After your confessions, everything seemed to go so smoothly. Laughing at your friends partying and tripping while under the influence. It made you feel like parents, in a sense. Watching over your stumbling kids. Law takes a long breath before speaking again.

“Please don’t leave me again, Y/N. I love you too much to lose you.”

“I love you too much to make you worry. So, don’t worry about it, Captain.”

[creativesaturn]

Summary: You can't help but feel sorry for Spencer.

Genre: Light angst , fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Warnings: light angst

Word count: 805

A/N: feeling very lazy today

You stared at the man who's desk was directly in front of yours. The both you being left behind in the bullpen to finish up paper work. But you could hardly focus, not after what you witnessed today.

Spencer was reading a book, completing his papers an hour ago and was now waiting for you, which you didn't quite understand.

But what you couldn't shake all day was how everyone was so mean to him. It was genuinely sad to witness when someone would tell him to stop talking or blow him off like he was dirt.

Spencer looked up from his book, staring back at your face that failed to hide any kind of expression. Your eyebrows knitted together, nostrils flared and your hands holding your head up as you watched him.

He didn't say anything at first, merely letting the both of you keep eye contact in hopes you'd break first. But, when you didn't, he opened his mouth to say, "You okay?" He said, his own brows withering in slight confusion.

His voice snapped you out of your expressed stated, your eyebrows rising and your face finally relaxing, "Yeah! Yeah, sorry.." You muttered, looking away to try and hide from the awkward conversation that was about to happen.

"Is there a.. uh... a reason, you were looking at me?" He asked, not letting his eyes leave you, curiosity eating at him.

You thought for a second, there was, there was a big reason. You just weren't sure if it was the right time to talk about it. But, will there ever be a right time?

You took in a deep breath, letting out a sigh to finally turn back to him, nodding slowly. "Yeah, uhm.." You muttered, looking back down to your hands to find your words.

He stared at you, completely patient, just waiting for you to speak.

"Everyone's just so mean to you, Spence." You blurted, trying not to give yourself time to overthink it.

His eyebrows furrowed at your words, "No one's mean to me?" He spoke, his tone in a questioned manner.

"And you don't even realize it." You scoff with a laugh. But, it wasn't a laugh to express that any of this was funny. It was to express how unbelievable it was.

He stayed silent. His eyes going back to his book with a long lingering silence, trying to find words of his own.

You looked away too, not wanting to overstep and assuming your previous sentence wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

"I do realize it," He finally replied, his eyes off his book but still completely avoiding eye contact.

"I just.." He sighed, "I just convince myself they didn't mean it, or it was a joke. I don't get jokes a lot so it was always easy to tell myself that, 'i just don't get it'." He admitted, sticking the tip of his tongue out to coat his dry lips. His eyes, now unable to look towards you as he admitted something that no one else knew.

You completely understand what he said, your pity for him growing even more as you thought about every word he spoke. "It hurts me to see people walk all over you, Spence." You professed, your eyes studying his body in an attempt at better understanding him.

"I know.." Spencer replied in a mumble, "I just have nothing else to say. If people don't want to hear me talk, it's--" He tried to go on, but his voice cracked, giving up mid sentence on him.

"I want to hear you talk. I would never tell you to shut up, it's not something a good friend does." You went on, trying to finish his sentence for him as you watched his eyes water and the tears threatening to spill.

His eyes finally met yours, his breathing getting heavier as he tried to control the overwhelming urge to cry in front of you.

"You don't have to say anything else." You said to him, "But I swear to God, if someone says anything to you again I won't be able to control myself." You laughed, lightening the mood to see him laugh along with you; which he did.

You stood up from your desk and walked over to him, he looked up at you in confusion but when he watched your arms open for a hug, he quickly obliged. He stood up and let you engulf him in your embrace.

You could hear the faint sniffling that was muffled by your hair, causing your eyes to water too. But, you didn't want to cry. This wasn't about you. This was about the boy who never felt truly liked and was walking around hoping he was just some joke making people laugh.

As if that was the best case scenario.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3