#I’m for the smut I’m for the action and I’m for the horror for my Au

[reidmotif]

"Technically" Not A Student

Summary: Reader is Alex Blake’s TA, and after a guest lecture, Spencer seems to take a liking to her .

Prompt:You’re Alex Blake’s TA when a Dr. Reid comes to guest lecture. Things get heated quickly when you're alone.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, guestlecturer!Spencer , age gap (roughly 10 years), car sex, heavy making out, unprotected sex, slight female masturbation, Spencer is smart and that's HOT, heavy sexual tension

Word Count: 5.1k

Being asked to be Alex Blake’s TA was the opportunity of a lifetime, and when it was presented to me as a first-year graduate student at Georgetown, I took it eagerly and never looked back. 

She had personally approached me after I’d finished a semester in her forensic linguistics class as a freshman, and commended me on my dedication to the material and my general work ethic, and then inquired if I’d ever consider filling out an application as her teaching assistant starting the next semester. 

I immediately agreed. It was a no-brainer. Blake was a seasoned professional in the career field I wished to enter, not to mention she’d been one of the best professors I’d had whilst taking classes at Georgetown. Knowing I’d be working so closely with her absolutely thrilled me. It provided opportunities I'd have never gotten otherwise.

For example, getting to sit in on the class the famed Spencer Reid would be lecturing on. 

She usually kept me quite busy, having me develop assignments and quizzes for her class when she had other responsibilities to attend to. I’d heard horror stories from other TA’s in which their supervisors would delegate ninety-nine percent of the work to their juniors, having them essentially teach the class for minimal recognition or pay. Blake wasn’t like that, and I was thankful. This time around though, she had very different instructions for me.

“You don’t need to prepare any material this time around.” Blake explained to me, and I nodded, listening diligently. “I’d just like you to sit in, and possibly take notes, as you see fit.” She added, and I flashed a polite smile, nodding. 

“No problem whatsoever. I’ll sit in the back so as to not bother any students as I do.” I replied, offering her as much convenience as I could within my actions.  

Secretly, I did want to catch more than a glimpse from the back of the room. I wanted to experience the esteemed colleague Blake had often spoken of with incredible fondness. I was aware he was slightly older than I was, and a bit socially inept from the way she described him in his stories, but I was also aware the man was a goddamn genius. She’d describe in precision the way Reid would pick up on patterns and leads faster than anyone else on the team, and his immense knowledge in multiple fields beyond criminal profiling. When she’d told me he had three pHDs, I had to hold back a gasp. I hadn’t even started my own doctorate, but the idea only exhausted me- and he had three?! Color me impressed. 

Blake, being as brilliant as she did, could sense the hidden enthusiasm in my eyes in meeting this man. 

“Honestly, I’d rather you sit in the front. If you’re taking notes for any student unable to attend, it’s more imperative that you know the contents of the lecture, rather than anyone else.” She said, smiling kindly. 

“That’s absolutely alright with me.” I say, even quicker than before, nodding, thoughtfully. In reality, the only thing I was thinking about was how close I’d be near the man. I had no idea what he looked like, what he sounded like, but something about him made my stomach flutter. 

“I’m sure Dr. Reid would be interested in meeting you, as well. He takes special interest in anyone pursuing our line of work.” Blake added. She didn’t mean for it to happen, but the words made my cheeks light up with a hint of embarrassment.

I don’t know why, but he intimidated the hell out of me. The idea of him taking interest in a conversation with me made my heart beat slightly faster, and I nodded. I tried to convince myself that my nerves came from a purely professional standpoint, but regardless of my intentions, I was absolutely exhilarated by our imminent meeting.

While I knew there'd be initial awkwardness when I'd meet him, given my idolization of the man, I didn’t account for how terrible it’d actually be when I realized how fucking attractive he was. It was almost unfair. I was already tripping over the words I planned on saying in my head, and now he looked like that?

It was cruel.

The soft, doe eyes paired with sharp cheekbones. The slope of his nose, and the mess of brown curls atop his head. Every word out of his mouth was made even prettier by the soft curve and pinkness of his lips, and I found myself wanting to lunge over the table and kiss the hell out of him.

Needless to say, not the right thoughts to have about your professor’s (older) coworker. 

 While I was initially going to introduce myself to Dr. Reid before his lecture, hopefully establishing myself as a serious individual regarding my studies and eventual career, I shied away, opting for Blake to introduce me instead, nodding politely when he made eye contact with me, exchanging a quiet “hello” and taking my seat in the front.

That was it. And probably how it should be, considering I genuinely couldn’t think straight around him. Students began filtering in, and I took my spot at the front of the room, crossing my legs and beginning to outline his lecture as he began to speak. 

He was a brilliant lecturer, and it was honestly criminal he didn’t do this for a living. He gesticulated wildly throughout the whole of it, but every word of his was punctuated with a genuine passion that even some of the best professors on campus lacked. I did my best to diligently keep up with every point he brought up, but with how fast he spoke, it was difficult. Still, an effort was made. 

If that wasn’t enough to deal with, I swear the man kept making eye contact with me for the duration of his lecture. At first I believed I was imagining it, that his eyes kept drifting to mine by coincidence, but by the third time, I’d realized that everytime my eyes left his figure to scribble something, I’d look up to see his dark eyes boring into my soul, almost as if he was trying to solve me with a glance. It was intense and made my stomach turn in a way which wasn’t entirely unpleasurable, but I forced myself to remain professional.

 Blake did not need to see me absolutely lusting after her coworker, even if he was utterly fit. 

Anyway, he was probably only making eye contact considering I was in the front, and probably in an optimal spot for his eyes to focus on whilst addressing the whole of the class. Still, the way his gaze was trained on mine, reaching the deepest parts of my soul didn’t help the growing heat between my legs. 

I forced myself to focus on the board, my notes, anything but those godforsaken eyes for the rest of the lecture. Anytime we made eye contact afterwards, I’d quickly look down, like I’d been caught doing something terrible. 

Was anyone else seeing this? Was I insane and made delusional by my unexpected attraction to this man? Was he seriously making me wet just by looking at me? 

Yes. 

Sooner than anyone wanted, the lecture period had completed and Dr. Reid was finishing up. The students were absolutely enamored, especially the girls, as expected. Of course it wouldn’t be just me who’d noticed that in addition to being accomplished in his intelligence, he was also ridiculously easy on the eyes.

Blake stood in the corner, watching her students vacate the space, while some held back to talk to Dr. Reid as he packed his things. He seemed a bit shy at all the attention, but didn’t hesitate in explaining concepts to seemingly eager students, giving them all a soft, shy smile. 

God help me, he was adorable. How was I falling for a man I’d never even spoken a word to? 

I’d never left the classroom before Blake did, so as she stayed, I did as well, until the three of us were the only ones left in the room.  Blake smiled, walking up to Dr. Reid with her hands in her pocket. 

“You worked up quite the fanbase, Reid.” Blake said, a little playful.

Reid replied somewhat bashfully. “You have a great bunch of students.” He flashed a small smile at her as they spoke, still packing up his things. 

 The dynamic between my superior and the man was obviously sweet. They almost looked familial, which made sense. Blake had commented here and there that she managed to spend more time with the BAU with her actual family. I’m sure the latter was the same for Spencer. He probably had a doting girlfriend at home, ready to welcome him in her arms and I mentally kicked myself again for being so attracted to him.

He was nearly ten years older, for god’s sake! Enough! I screamed at myself. 

 I was brought out quite suddenly from my thoughts when Blake spoke in my direction. “This is (Y/N), my teaching assistant.” Reid came in my direction as I got up and approached him, offering a hand to me. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. Blake told me who you were, but we weren’t properly introduced.” 

I gave a firm shake to his hand, which I noticed was calloused and smooth at the same time. God, even his hands were pretty. He had long, slender fingers with short-kept nails. They were veiny, and looked strong. I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like inside of me, buried in the heat of my core as I begged him for more.. more.. 

I forced the thought out of my head, only nodding again at the handsome man. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” I say, forcing myself to be professional.

Stop thinking about fucking him! 

“Spencer works just fine.” He says, imparting a kind smile that nearly made my knees weak. Did he have any idea the embarrassing effect he was having on me? 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake looking at the two of us with a bit of a strange expression on her face. I let go of his hand and took a step back. Oh god. Could she tell? If she could, she said nothing. She gave us both a kind smile, before grabbing her own things.

“(Y/N)?” She called out, starting to walk to the door. “Mind locking up for me tonight?” She said, already throwing her keys to me. 

“That’s fine by me.” I say, grabbing her keys mid-air. I was used to this. Blake often wanted to leave a bit quicker than I did, and I was more than happy to assist in any way possible. What I didn’t realize, was that this left me and Spencer in the room alone, something I wanted to avoid, considering how fucking awkward this man was rendering me with so much as a glance at me.

I heard Blake leave, and as she quietly closed the door behind her, I leaned against a desk, keeping my eyes down as Spencer continued to pack his own things. I tried to not let my gaze drift to him, as I waited for him to finish up. 

I let my thoughts wander to the lecture, and couldn’t shake the feeling he’d evoked in me when he looked at me like that. This was honestly ridiculous. The man had barely spoken ten words to me, and here I was, absolutely mooning over him. It was a new low for me, but in my defense being a graduate student meant I didn’t have much time to get my .. needs fulfilled.

“That’s why” I convinced myself. I just hadn’t gotten laid in a really long time. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“So, you’re a criminology student?” Spencer says, suddenly, breaking me out of my trance. 

I looked up, nodding. I responded on pure habit and instinct. ‘Yes, I’m in the process of getting my Masters in Criminology.” I said, nearly robotic. 

“That must be interesting.” Spencer replied, flashing me a sweet smile that caused an entirely new slew of butterflies to erupt in my stomach. “I never studied criminology specifically, but the classes I took interested me.” 

“Blake told me you had three pHDs.” I acknowledged, trying to return his smile, but in all honesty, I probably looked like an idiot. I was nervous as hell, and hoped he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t my fault. He was awe-causing. A sight to behold, if you will, in intelligence and appearance. 

He laughed good naturedly, “Yeah. Three.” He must’ve noticed the stars in my eyes, because he continues. “As well as a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Sociology. And I’m working on another in Philosophy.” He finishes with a smug, boyish type of smile. 

What was previously stars in my eyes, was now full blown shock all over my face. “Wow, Spencer.” I said, a little dumb-struck. “That’s.. a lot.” I add, a little stupidly, giving him a little laugh. 

He sweetly scratched his neck, revealing his self-consciousness. “Yeah? You think?” He says, a small smirk in his voice, and I laughed again. “You think I should stop after Philosophy?” 

“Totally. Save some knowledge for us.” I teased. It was comfortable. He was surprisingly easy to get used to. He was affable, despite how daunting his knowledge was. 

“Hey, you try graduating before you’re a teenager.” He defends himself, playfully. “Not much to do, really.” 

I laugh. “I don’t know.” I say, throwing my hands up a little. “Play ball? Run around?” I joke, and he makes a face at that, scrunching up his nose. 

“Not my thing.” He replies, smoothly, and I laugh. 

“Alright, fine. Keep your degrees doctor man.” And he laughs at my joke. Like, a real laugh. I didn’t even find my own rhetoric particularly humorous, but knowing that I’d gotten him to react like that made my cheeks glow. 

He finished packing the last of his things and slung his satchel bag over himself, starting to walk over to the door. I made sure to gather all my things, and walked to the door with him. He held it open for me, and I nodded my head in thanks, and he let it shut behind us. I turned around to lock it, using Blake’s keys and placing them in my bag securely, before looking at him. 

“Well, Spencer. It was nice meeting you, thank you for the lecture it was-” I start, but he interrupts me. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” He interjected, looking a little shy as he did. I smiled a little confusedly, wondering why he’d want to do so, but I gave him my answer, nonetheless. 

“I don’t have a car. I usually take the bus back to my apartment.” I explained, smiling softly. 

“The bus?” He says,  quirking his mouth to the side. “Isn’t it a bit late for that?” He replies, a hint of concern in his voice. 

I gave a little sigh, “I mean, it’s fine.” I say, trying to laugh a little. “I’ve done it before.” I add, attempting to ease the worry out of his voice. “It’s not that late.” I say, but he simply shakes his head. 

“No way.” He says, still adamant on this. “I.. I can drive you home, if you’d like?” He says, his words going slightly on the higher pitch as he rolled out his proposal, and I gave a small grin at that. 

“Really? If it’s a hassle I can seriously just take the bus. I wouldn’t want you to keep anyone waiting at home or-” 

He interjects again. “No hassle. I promise. I want to.” He pauses, before adding, “No one at home. You’re probably going to be the last person I see today.” He seems to blush at his final admission, and my eyes widen in interest. No girlfriend? Score. 

“Alright, Spencer.” I say, smiling again. “Lead the way.” 

He led me to his car, an old-fashioned Volvo and I couldn’t help myself from gawking at it.

“God, you have a cool car too? Is there anything about you that isn’t interesting?” I say, aware I was probably stroking his ego a bit, but honestly I wanted to. The man was just so damn intriguing, and every new bit of information I learned about him only made me want to unravel the whole of him. To truly know him, in and out. 

He laughed, using his keys to manually unlock the door. “Oh, trust me. I’m plenty boring. The car is probably my only saving grace.” He joked, and I laughed again as I got into the car. 

“Oh, I highly doubt that, but if you say so.” I say, sweetly, and adding a light tone of flirtatiousness in my tone. He seems to blush at this again, and I begin to think about the events of day. The stares in class, the perpetual rosy tint on his cheeks that had been there since we began our conversation, the way he joked and laughed at my (admittedly, unfunny) jokes. 

Oh god. Did he like me? 

Only one way to find out. 

As Spencer got in the car and began driving onto the main road, I looked at him, trying to put on my best, innocent smile. “So, you said you’re not going home to anyone?” I say, a softness to my tone, but an undeniable hunger in it as well. 

“Uh.” He responds, that damned blush coming on, strong. “Yes.” He replies, nodding as he keeps his eyes on the road. 

“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I ask, a bit forwardly. 

Now he’s really blushing, stuttering a bit. “Oh, no. No girlfriend. Not much time, given the BAU and our schedule.” He said, almost clinically, and I nodded. 

“I mean, Blake has a husband.” I point out, a little smugly. 

“I guess.” He says, sighing a bit. “But, you know.” He says. He vaguely gestures to himself, and I look at him a little confused, tilting my head at him.

“Spencer, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” I say, with a little giggle. “But trust me, you’re absolutely gorgeous.” I continue, before I can stop myself.

He looks at me, giving me a soft smirk, and a raise of his eyebrows. He didn’t look uncomfortable, and honestly looked just as thrilled as I did, and I knew that this night had a good chance of going the way I wanted it too. 

“Ah, you’re sweet.” Spencer replies, “But no. I just mean, I’m.. me. You know?” He says, trying to explain his (non-existent) shortcomings, but I just shake my head. 

“You don’t give yourself much credit, you know?” I attempt to say with that amorous tone from before, but it was more overcome with genuine respect and admiration. “You’re smart, funny and nice to be around, I mean.” I pause. “Did you not see the absolute crowd of girls around you after the lecture? Trust me, Spencer. I bet you’re more than easy to be with, even easier to like.” The words rush out of me, and I watch him tentatively for his reaction to my words. 

Instead of the sweet side smile he’d been offering me all night, he finally looked at me. The car had come to a stop at a red light, and his face was dangerously sexy as it was illuminated by the colored glow around us. 

“And what do you think?” Spencer says, in a low tone, making direct eye contact with me. 

I feel my stomach turn at the sudden directness in his words, his gaze nearly devouring me whole. I felt my mouth go dry and I swallow, trying to keep my tone steady. 

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice having a slight shake to it. 

“I mean, what do you think about me? Do you.. like me?” He says, licking his lips slightly, and the action causes the previous heat between my legs to come by in full force. 

“Oh, I mean.” I say, my previous confidence dissipating in an instant. “Well, yes, Dr. Reid. Everyone liked you today.” I say, trying to give more of a conservative answer now.

The man had a way of making me feel totally comfortable around him, and then flipping the switches, rendering me dumb and stuttering. Like I was now. 

“Oh, so I’m Doctor Reid now.” He says, clicking his tongue and saying the words with an air of lighthearted teasing, but I only bit my lip, hurriedly trying to explain myself. 

“I mean, it's your title.” I say, quickly, trying to justify myself. “I mean, you said it yourself- three pHDs. It’d be pretty shitty to just discard the years taken to achieve that. Um. Well. You’re a genius so probably not as long, but still! Calling you doctor is a sign of respect for your accomplishments and-”

“You're cute.” He interrupts, and I look back at him to see his eyes back on the road, a cocky smile plastered on his face.

The light around us turned green, and he started the car. I picked at my nails slightly, trying not to display any more signs of nervousness around him. I wanted to do something with him, at least, and that couldn't happen if I was a bumbling mess.

We drove in relative silence for the next few minutes, as I tried to gather my thoughts and possibly continue what we’d been building up to these past few hours, but a quick glance at the windows and the road we were on caused me to furrow my brows.

“Oh, this isn’t the way to my apartment.” I remark absentmindedly, looking at the window beside me, then in front. “I live near the train station, off east?” I offer, expecting him to fully make a turn back towards the direction I’d prompted him towards, but he didn’t even flinch, continuing on the more secluded road we’d entered.

“I know.” He said, glancing at me once more, actually applying more pressure to the gas pedal, causing us to go faster down the terrain. 

Okay, fuck. He was an FBI agent, so I didn’t have to worry about him murdering me, right? Wait, no, that’s stupid. He could probably get away with it. No! He’s Blake’s friend. Her coworker. For the goddamn FBI. He wouldn’t murder me. What the fuck was going on? 

I watched as Spencer pulled off to the side of the road, darkness surrounding us entirely. There weren't any other cars around, and it was silent in the car before I bit my lip, and started to speak.

“Did I.. offend you?” I ask, cautiously. No reply. I try again. “Why did we stop?” I add, trying to test the waters with him to see what he was thinking at that moment. 

“I thought I could wait before we got to your place, but I need to know now.” He replied, a sudden urgency in his voice. He turned towards me, watching me with a dark, intense gaze, similar to the one he'd given me in class that day. “Do you want me? Am I reading this wrong with you? Because if I am, we can completely forget it and I can drop you home but (Y/N)..” He paused. He made direct eye contact with me and once again I found myself wanting to swim in those dark eyes of his. “I want you.” He said, his voice low and raspy. 

I didn't give it much thought as I gave into my urges and surged towards his lips the best I could in the car. He responded immediately, bringing me closer with his hands and placing them on either side of my face, moving his lips against mine in a perfected rhythm. I used my fingers to quickly undo my belt, before climbing over the console to sit in his lap, getting closer without our lips disconnected once. He understood my actions and intentions immediately, pulling the seat back so I could rest more comfortably in his lap as we continued to kiss. 

I knotted my hands in his hair, giving an experimental tug which elicited a low moan from his mouth. I grinned against his lips and his hands moved from my face to his hips, bringing my clothed core to rest right against his growing bulge, which I immediately moved against. He let out a sharp breath as I did and broke the kiss. 

“Oh god. I’m sorry.” He said, breathlessly, hands on my hips. “I don’t know what came over me and-” 

He looked almost frantic, and incredibly guilty, so I quickly leaned in for a peck, stopping him mid sentence. I brought my hands to his shoulders to rub them soothingly, and he seemed to relax in my touch. 

“Spencer, calm down.” I say, nearly purring. “I want this.” I continue, rubbing patterns into his arms now. “Please.” 

“You’re Blake’s student.” He murmurs, using one of his hands to run through already messy brown curls. “What am I doing?” He says, almost to himself, looking ready to stop our tryst. 

I realize he was attempting to backtrack from this, and before he could continue his train of thought, I quickly leaned in from my position on his lap to start kissing his neck, trailing wet hot kisses down the column before whispering. “I’m not her student.” 

He pulls away to look at me, biting his lip. “What?” 

“I was her student last semester. I’m her teaching assistant now.” I smirk a little, licking my lips. “Technically not a student of hers.” 

He seemed to take in my words for a moment, and then something in him shifted, and he lunged at me again, kissing me with even more ferocity. He absolutely devoured me, his hands everywhere at this point. Caressing my sides, in my hair, on the small of my back. He brought me closer to him in any way he could, pressing our bodies against each other in a frenzied manner that caused the wetness between my legs to increase tenfold. 

“Wanted you.. as soon as I saw you.” He murmurs against my lips as we caught our breath in between kisses. “Knew it was wrong but..” 

I nodded. I understood. I was the same. 

“Fuck.” I moaned, as I felt the bulge resting below me get even harder. “Spencer, please. Don’t make me wait.” 

“Impatient.” He remarked, smirking, now beginning his own line of kisses down my neck, making me moan in pleasure. 

“Please.” I breathed out, my words being reduced to a squeak as he bit my neck gently, and my eyes fluttered shut. I was melting right in his damn hands, just like he wanted. 

His hands started to work at the buttons on my jeans, and I sighed in relief, lifting up my hips to allow them to be tugged off, leaving me in my underwear. His slender fingers traced the seam, leaving me shuddering with pleasure for the man in front of me. I tried once more, breathlessly murmuring at him.

“Please. Please.” 

“Use your words, baby.” He whispered, a devilish smirk on his face. I was too far-gone to care about what I looked like. I needed him so badly. 

“I need you to fuck me, now.” I say, clearer. “I need it, Spencer.” 

Something about me using his name, nearly moaning for the man when he’d barely touched me stirred something in him, and he started to undo his own slacks, freeing his cock from the confines of his briefs. I watched in fascination as it sprung out, and took in a sharp breath of air. I licked my lips before making eye contact with him, begging for us to get on with it at this point. He nodded, understanding my desperation and I smiled dumbly, beginning to lift my hips. He guided his cock to my heat and placed his free hand on the small of my back, slowly guiding me down his member.

I moaned softly as I felt him enter me, providing me with the most delicious stretch. I threw my head back in pleasure as he brought both his hands to my hips urging me down. 

“That’s it. God, fuck. You feel so good.” He moaned, which only made me want to take more of him. I lowered myself down a bit faster, and he released a heavy groan as his hips met mine. I whimpered slightly, his length filling me up perfectly. A thin sheen of sweat had gathered on my brow and I leaned my forehead, adjusting to his size. 

“You good?” He breathed out, using his hand to brush a piece of hair that had stuck itself on my brow, and I nodded. 

“Yeah, just.” I took a deep breath, before licking my lips, looking up before nodding.

I slowly lifted myself off, letting the head of his arousal nestle in me before I slammed back down, eliciting moans from both of us. He began to match my movements in tandem, thrusting up into me wildly. I held onto his shoulders, burying myself in his neck as we went faster. I could feel his tip hitting my cervix every time, causing me to cry out with pleasure every single time. 

I felt my orgasm rapidly approach, and Spencer seemed to sense this as well, considering the involuntary clenches I was giving around his cock. He let his hand slip down to where our bodies met and rubbed tight, fast circles around my clit, encouraging my release. 

“Come on, pretty girl. Come all over my cock. You can do it.” He breathed out, watching my every move with a hunger I'd never experienced before.  

It took a few more thrusts from him, combined with the insistent fingers at my bundle of nerves before my thighs began shaking, and I let out a chorus of moans, most of them sounding like strangled versions of his name as I coated his cock in my wetness, spurring him on to go faster inside me, bucking into me like a man possessed. 

He continued to jut into me wildly, until I felt him finish inside me, coating my walls with his release. He breathed shakily, holding me close to him as I slumped over his shoulder, my chest heaving up and down as I came down from the intensity of the previous moment. 

He affectionately removed me from his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, the tenderness and gentleness in his actions contrary to what we had just done. I pulled back with a dazed smile, taking in how pretty he looked. 

“If it’s alright, I’d love to take you out for coffee sometime.” He said, still a bit breathless, and a shy smile appeared on his face.

I giggled. He was literally still inside me, and was asking me out on a date with a boyish nervousness that made him even harder to resist. 

“For you Dr Reid? Anything.” 

ahh! writing this was a beast, and i imagined it to be longer but i got what i wanted in less words haha. i hope you guys liked this. any reblogs, comments, likes are so so appreciated i know it sounds totally stupid, but your guys' support means a lot lot lot!! thank you!!! <3

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey! So I had this Hurt comfort fic idea with Charles where she is engaged to him. Have you seen the video about the crowd in Montreal surrounding him? So something like them arriving and he's signing and clicking pics through the crowd holding her hand and the crowd and paps goes a bit haywire and she is separated and then visibly very hurt and injured because of that. And Charles is angry and protective, with the "Idc about myself but if anyone touches/hurts you I lose it" or something similar. Add drama and spice as you feel

Thank you Babe ❤️

A Step Too Far || CL16

Warnings: fluff, angst, implied smut WC: 1.9k

Charles could remember the first time he met your father. Obviously it wasn’t the first first time but it was the first time as your boyfriend, and that made it more important than any of the times they met in the paddock. Toto had gripped his hand tightly as they shook, pulling the younger driver closer to whisper in his ear.

“That’s my daughter, Charles, you put her above all else. It’s my job to protect her, and I’m trusting you here.”

“I understand, sir. I’ll keep her safe.”

“What did he say?” you asked as you left for your date.

“Nothing, ma chérie,” Charles assured you with a smile and a kiss to your cheek.

For three years he had kept that secret promise religiously, even as his popularity grew beyond his wildest expectations. He couldn’t walk down the street without being recognised, crowds gathering and people asking for photos or signatures. It wasn’t exactly new for you having grown up the way you did, but Charles’ fans were far more excitable and passionate than the ones who met your father.

Monza 2023

Everywhere you looked it was a sea of red supporters, the tifosi out in force to celebrate the third and fourth places Ferrari had taken in the race. You could see the equal parts of pride and disappointment on Charles’ face as he watched Carlos take the third step on the podium.

After heading back to his driver room, he collapsed into a chair with a groan and hung his head in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, wrinkling your nose at the sweat that dampened his dark hair. “That was a hell of a fight, baby.”

His grunt told you he thought otherwise but he placed his hand over yours and gave it a soft squeeze. “I almost had it, amour.”

“I know.” You nuzzled into his neck until his shoulders bunched up and he wriggled with a laugh at his ticklish spot.

“Okay, okay, no more moping,” he said as he stood up and turned to face you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You held up your hand that had a sparkly new ring resting upon it. “Or I wouldn’t have said yes.”

“I’m very glad you did.” He smiled as he took your hand and kissed the engagement ring. “I need to shower. There’s room for one more…”

Charles kept you tucked close to his side as he made his way through the lines of fans to where his car was pulling up. You were running late once again, after being distracted while you were meant to be getting dressed to go out for dinner. He left your side for only a moment to open your door but that moment was all it took as the metal barriers separating the crowd came crashing down and they surged forward.

The sight and the sound gave you a fright and you stepped back instinctively. “Charles!” He turned at your panicked tone and watched with horror as your heeled foot missed the curb, twisting painfully as you fell. For a second he lost sight of you in the sea of red and he was spurred into action.

“Back up! Get out of my way!” he shouted to the crowd as he pushed his way to you. Rage filled him as he found you crumpled beside his car, arms wrapped protectively around your head while the bodies finally started to give you room. Tears blurred your vision as pain radiated from your ankle and suddenly you were weightless as a familiar pair of arms picked you up. “Amour, are you hurt?”

You could hardly hear him as the crowd demanded his attention, screaming as they waved hats and posters in his direction. The look he sent them should have been warning enough but they were too high on his presence to notice.

“Amour?”

“My ankle,” you admitted with a wince as it was jostled.

He released a torrent of expletives under his breath as he carried you to the driver’s seat and climbed in with you on his lap, your legs hanging over onto the passenger seat. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he apologised as he kissed your temple and pulled out of the hotel.

“It’s not your fault, Charles, I should have been paying more attention.”

“You got hurt because of me, that’s the only reason they were there. Shit.” His eyes darted to the centre screen as it announced an incoming call from Toto and he hit the accept button on the steering wheel.

“You haven’t lost your watch again, have you?” Toto greeted, his voice thick with amusement.

“We are almost there,” he replied as he turned onto the street where the restaurant reservation was booked. “We just ran into some trouble with some fans.”

The silence was deafening until it was broken by the scratch of a chair being pushed back on a wooden floor followed by the click of your father’s footsteps. “Trouble?”

You watched the door to the restaurant open and your father ignored the concierge as he stepped to the curb Charles was pulling up to. “This should be fun.” Charles grimaced at your words and ended the call as Toto tucked his phone away and opened the passenger door.

Toto stared at the empty seat before dragging his eyes across the space to find you on your fiancé’s lap. “Hi papa.”

“Don’t hi me,” he tutted as he walked around and moved the valet along with a wave of his hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you assured him as you accepted his hand out of the sports car. “You two are as dramatic as each other.”

The flare of pain was sudden and impossible to hide when your shoe touched the pavement, the joint weakly giving underneath you. If not for Charles behind you it would have been much worse but he took your weight and kept you upright.

“What the fuck have you done to my daughter, Leclerc?” You found yourself in a tug of war, but you were the rope. Your father tried to pull you out of his arms but your yelp of pain froze the very air. He relinquished his fight and raised his hands before pointing a damning finger at Charles. “Hospital, now.”

“But I’m hungry,” you whined as he instantly moved to follow the order, stepping back towards the Ferrari. “Can’t we go after dinner, please?”

You turned your pleading eyes to your father and watched his resolve weaken.

“No,” Charles interrupted before Toto could agree and you turned to him with a look of betrayal. “Don’t look at me like that, amour. I can’t bear to see you in pain, especially when it’s my fault.”

“At least you take ownership,” Toto muttered. “Susie and I will bring you dinner. Go.”

There was no room to argue, not that Charles would. He respected your father too much for that.

“You need to make a statement,” Toto said tiredly as he sat in the hospital chair opposite Charles. You were on the bed separating them, enjoying the lack of pain while the drugs did their job and waiting for the moonboot to be fitted. “Something like this cannot be allowed to happen again.”

“He didn’t exactly give them permission, papa.”

Charles cut you a look out the corner of his eye before nodding to Toto. “I’ll make sure of it, sir. It might be time to hire some security.”

Your father barely hid his scoff as he muttered, “Better late than never.” Toto sat up straighter and rubbed his tired eyes. “These are things you will need to think about even more in the future, especially when you have children of your own - you’ll realise you can’t wait until something bad happens before making changes. You need to start thinking about the future now, son.”

Charles’ stare turned out the window as he took the advice seriously. You could see the contemplation set in hard lines across his face. The look turned sad when the nurse arrived with the moonboot you would need to wear for at least two weeks and he started to withdraw into himself as he pulled his phone out. Only a few moments later you saw your phone light up with a notification that he had posted to his Instagram.

“Good man,” Toto said as he read the statement that in no uncertain terms warned his fans there would be consequences if they couldn’t respect the boundaries set.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Yes,” they both answered adamantly.

“You are all set to go, darling,” the nurse said with a soft smile. “Rest up, and if there are any concerns just come right back.”

After thanking her you hobbled along, sandwiched between your father and fiancé, to the underground car park where the car was waiting.

“I’ll come back to your hotel, make sure you get inside safely,” your father said as he opened your door and kissed your cheek.

“His fans have probably all run away by now.”

“I think you’re underestimating the tifosi. I’d rather not take the risk.”

Toto was right, because if anything there were even more fans lining the entrance to the hotel than before. Only this time there was also more security.

You were quickly ushered through to the quieter reception area where Toto shared a look that said ‘I told you so’ before bidding a goodnight and heading his own way back. The elevator ride to the penthouse suite was silent and it wasn’t the comfortable silence you were used to. It grew heavier with each level and you were itching to get out of the confined space by the time the doors opened.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered as Charles pulled his shirt off and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I broke my promise,” he said as his shoulders sagged further, like he was moments from imploding on himself. “I swore to your father I would protect you.”

“Charles, I love you, but you can’t protect me from the world - no matter what my father thinks.” You crawled over the duvet and onto his lap so you could cup his face. “I don’t blame you and it is me who is going to be marrying you, not him.”

His brows pinched together. “I hadn’t even thought about children.”

“What?”

“After the wedding, having children - what that would be like in this environment. I hadn’t thought about it. I obviously knew it’s what I wanted for us down the line but now…it’s a little scary to think what might happen to them.”

“Char, there’s no rush. We don’t know what our future will look like in five years, or ten.” You stroked his cheeks and dipped your head forward to kiss his pouting lips. “Just focus on the here and now, baby. Forget what happened out there. In here, it’s just you and me, and a king sized bed that’s far too neatly made.”

“It is pretty neat.”

“So why don’t we mess it up?”

His eyes flicked to your legs draped over his, lingering on the bulky boot. “Amour?”

Your fingers were already running down his chest, reaching for the waistband of his trousers he had worn to dinner. “You won’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I trust you.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Let's play a little game | Ethan Landry x Reader

Summary: You get a phone call from a masked ID when you’re home alone…

Word count: 2k

Warnings: smut, fingering, p + v action, ambiguous consent, home invasion, cheating,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You looked at your reflection in the mirror as you brushed your hair, admiring how hot your body looked in those small shorts and cami. The rumors were true, you really looked your best in your early adulthood. You posed, making sure all your curves were in a flattering angle, and sent a picture to your boyfriend. It was a bummer Chad was away in Woodsboro for the weekend when you looked that good.

After exchanging some naughty texts with Chad, you called Tara if she wanted to come over and watch horror movies. The weather had been gloomy and cold all day, which was perfect for the occasion.

‘’If you had called me two hours ago, I would be running over in my pajamas and bringing along my fuzzy blanket, but I may have gotten a call from a certain brunet from my film class and agreed to go on a date…tonight.’’ Tara covered her mouth to stifle her excitement, but you could hear it in her voice.

A smile bloomed on your lips, excited for your friend. ‘’Oh my god! He did?’’

‘’Yes.’’ On the other side of the line, Tara paused, her head full of Tyler. ‘’I’m so nervous. It’s my first date ever.’’

‘’It’ll be okay, T,’’ you reassured her. ‘’And if he turns out to be a jerk, excuse yourself to the bathroom and send me a text. I’ll call you and fake an emergency.’’

Tara promised, then hung up to finish getting ready for her date. She needed to leave before Sam got home and asked a plethora of questions. Maybe she’ll do a full search on Tyler to make sure he’s not a crazy Stab fanatic like her own ex-boyfriend.

You were about to shoot a text to Anika, but your phone rang again. This time, the caller ID was masked.

You answered with a frown.

‘’Hello?’’ a distorted male voice said.

Your frown deepened. ‘’Eh, shouldn’t I be the one saying ‘hello’?’’

‘’Who is this?’’

‘’Who are you trying to reach?’’

‘’I don’t know.’’ There was a short silence, then the man spoke again. ‘’Do you like scary movies?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ You took a body-spray from your vanity desk and spritzed a little on you, smiling when the sweet caramel scent filled the air.

‘’What’s your favorite scary movie?’’

You took a moment to think. ‘’Probably Jennifer’s Body. Does that count? It’s more of a horror comedy, but I’ve watched it a thousand times.’’

The stranger hummed. ‘’The one with the hot chick that eats her best friend’s boyfriend?’’

‘’Yes!’’

‘’Speaking of boyfriend, do you have a boyfriend?’’

‘’Why? You want to ask me out on a date?’’ you joked, fixing the pendant of your necklace that had flipped over.

‘’Maybe.’’

‘’If you want to ask someone out on a date, calling on a masked ID is not the best way. It gives off stalker vibes.’’

‘’I’m not a stalker.’’

‘’How can I know you’re not?’’

‘’If I were a stalker, I would tell you how hard my cock is just from looking at you in those pajamas.’’

You gulped uncomfortably, standing from your vanity chair and going to your window to peer through the curtains to see if anyone was outside. You were on the tenth floor. How would anyone get up there from the outside? It didn’t make sense.

But it was the only window in your bedroom…

‘’I…I’m gonna hang up. I need to take my dog out.’’

It was a lie. You didn’t have a dog, but the stranger on the other end didn’t know that.

‘’Don’t hang up on me!’’ he yelled at you.

You did anyway.

Seconds later, the phone rang again. Fuck.

‘’Why are you calling again?’’ you snapped at the caller, not bothering to check the ID. You knew it was him.

‘’To apologize, of course.’’

‘’Okay. You did. Now bye.’’ You pulled the phone away from your ear, but the man yelled at you.

‘’If you hang up again, I’ll come inside and gut you!’’

The threat was stronger and starting to scare you, but you couldn’t let him know.

‘’You’re bluffing,’’ you said, praying your voice wouldn’t falter. ‘’I’m on a high floor. You can’t get to me.’’

‘’From the outside, no. But who said I’m not already inside.’’

Fear settled in your guts as your phone buzzed with a text message. A picture. Someone in a Ghostface mask standing in your bedroom. He had a knife in his hand and you had a feeling it wasn’t a fake one.

When was this taken? And where was he now?

You searched your vanity for something to use as a weapon. There was a ton of makeup, a few perfume bottles, your hairbrush — all useless. Then your eyes fell on your manicure scissors. You used them a few nights ago to cut a thread from a shirt. They were small but pointy. It could injure your stalker.

Scissors tight in your hand, you stood from your chair and ventured to your living area. It was a very small apartment. The living room and kitchen were merged into the same room and all the lights were off. You turned the main light on, illuminating the whole room, but saw no one.

The curtains were closed. They were tall and thick enough for someone to hide behind.

Putting your fictive big-girl pants on, you walked to the window to check, but jumped and when you heard the distorted voice in your ear.

‘’Let’s play a little game. I say something and you do as I say….or else I’ll use that sharp knife on you. Got it?’’

You gulped and nodded. A part of you wanted to call the cops and signal a home invasion, but if your intruder was already inside, they would never get to you on time. Even at night, New York traffic was a nightmare.

‘’Take those little shorts off. I want to see those lacey panties you have on underneath.’’

You didn’t want to, but you reached for your small dolphin shorts anyway. You weren’t shy with your body, but getting undressed for a stranger to jerk off to you made you stomach churn. Your fingers touched your waistband, about to pull your shorts down, but stopped when you remembered you were not wearing anything under.

‘’I-I'm not wearing any.’’

‘’Don't lie to me. I can see those tiny shorts from here.’’

You looked around the room, trying to figure out where he was hiding. Your bedroom window was already out of the options. Your bed was a box and your closet and the bathroom door were shut. Where the hell was he hiding?

‘’Not the shorts,’’ you corrected. ‘’The panties.’’

‘’Naughty girl.’’

You should be disgusted, but you found yourself blushing — and slightly turned on — at the creepy stranger's words. Was it the Ghostface mask that was suddenly having this effect on you? You did feel a strange liking to the masked killers when you watched horror movies.

‘’Strip.’’

You fumbled to push your dolphin shorts down and out of the way, exposing yourself bare.

‘’Now go back to your room, get on the bed and sit against the pillows.’’

You did as told and leaned back into your pillows, but kept your knees closed. You could sense where this was going. Men loved to watch a girl touch herself. If you look at their internet history, you’ll find a ton of porn videos of women touching themselves.

He tutted you. ‘’Don't try to hide. Spread your legs. I want to see.’’

You knew you shouldn’t part your legs, but your arousal was getting stronger at every instruction. It’s like he had casted a spell on you and you were helpless to disobey him.

God, you should be disgusted with yourself. How could you be turned on by a masked intruder in a Ghostface mask asking you to strip and give him a free view of your intimate parts?

Shutting your subconscious, you parted your legs and exposed yourself, shivering when you felt the cool air of the room.

You heard a groan in your ear. ‘’That’s a beautiful pussy. Show me how wet you are for me.’’

Your free hand slid down your body and to your mound, then lower. You sighed as you reached your folds, spreading them and showing the way your lips glistened with wetness.

‘’Am I wet enough for you, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you asked into the room, sliding your finger up and down your folds a couple of times.

‘’Why don’t you stick a finger inside? Play with yourself for me.’’

A soft moan slipped from your lips as you did, your finger sliding easily. You thrusted in slowly, then out, and repeated. The pace was too slow for your personal liking, but you knew how to tease and turn on a partner. Watching a video of your fingers sinking in and out of yourself, coated with your arousal had made your boyfriend cum in his dorm bed many times.

But let’s not talk about Chad now.

You added a second finger and caught your bottom lip between your teeth when you curled them. You wish you had your pink vibrator for your clit, but your other hand was occupied holding your phone.

‘’Mmh, you’re making me so fucking hard right now.’’

‘’Are you touching yourself to the sight of me, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you asked, bringing your thumb to your clit and rubbing.

A distorted whimper came from the other side of the line. He was.

The sensations from your touches were sending fuzzy tingles from your neck to your dripping pussy, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

‘’Is that all you’re going to do? Are you going to just watch me fuck myself for your own pleasure like a selfish asshole…or are you going to come and fuck me?’’

The line went dead and all the lights went off, sending chills down your spine. You removed your fingers, unsure if this was part of the game or not.

‘’Hello?’’ you called into the darkness of your bedroom. ‘’Is someone there?’’

It was stupid to ask, having seen enough horror movies to know what happens to characters who ask that very question.

The light returned with a static noise and you jumped when seeing a tall Ghostface figure standing at the end of your bed, watching you intently. He pounced on your bed like a lion on his prey, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you toward him.

A deafening scream left your throat, thinking he was going to kill you. Instead, he parted your thighs and lifted his robe, his pants already down to his thighs and his hard cock out. He wasted no time, thrusting himself between your wet folds and splitting your cunt open as you moaned out loud.

‘’You like being filled with my cock, uh? You unfaithful little whore!’’ the distorted voice said, grabbing your hips and pounding into you. ‘’Getting fucked by someone else while her boyfrined is away in California.’’

Unfortunately, you couldn't deny it. This cock felt fucking amazing.

You pushed all thoughts of Chad to the back of your head. You’ll figure this out later.

Right now, all you wanted to focus on was the man between your legs.

The sounds that rang from your throat were nothing short of obscene, mouth hanging open helplessly while he wrecked your pussy, his cock slick with the evidence of your arousal. You clawed at your sheets, your back arching from the bed from the intense pleasure filling your whole body.

Moans and grunts mixed with wheezings came from underneath the mask. Breathing must not be easy under the rubber mask. You reached out and took it off, gasping in shock when seeing who was underneath.

Ethan?!

You opened your mouth to speak, but he threw your legs over his shoulders and you cried out at the change of angle, not caring that your boyfriend’s roommate was fucking you.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly

[allbark-no-bite]

Ignorance is Bliss || Coriolanus Snow x reader

summary: there’s something to love about the simplicity of boyhood. or in which there’s still good in Coriolanus and you love him

warnings: none really. this is just self-indulgent fluff. maybe slight mention of smut

word count: 1.3k

authors note: okay first of all ik everyone here spells it Coryo, but i much prefer Corio. the Hunger Games was the first ever fandom that i wrote for nearly 8 years ago (please don’t read my wattpad) and i’m so excited to have an up to date fic posted on here! the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes revived my love for the series and i hope you all enjoy :)

The sky shifts from a faint blue to yellow with the approaching evening light. In just a few minutes the swarms of awakening insects will be almost too much to bear. He swallows, and the combination of his dry mouth and the lack of humidity makes it feel as though his throat sticks together with the action. Being so deep in the forest, away from the rest of civilization, the air out here is so fresh that just breathing it is dizzying.

By now he's so used to the polluted air of District 12 that this sort of clarity is a startling but welcomed reprieve. In the Capitol, he'd grown up hearing stories of the miners in 12 who would eventually succumb to the horrific fate of suffocation, their lungs black from years of inhaling coal dust. Even after just a few months of being assigned as a peacekeeper to the district, the undersides of his fingernails had turned permanently black with the dust.

The games are far from his mind these days—at least most of the time they are. He has done his best to put those horrors in the past. He is no longer a Capitol student, fighting to prove that he belongs there in his hand me down shoes and shirts with buttons made of bathroom tile. Those days now seem like an entirely different lifetime.

His heart rate slows to the point that his chest hardly rises, and his only sign of consciousness is the occasional flicker of his eyes as he fights to keep from dozing off. He lies there watching the sky and counts the hours until the sun is swallowed by the horizon.

It's considerably quiet save for the breeze moving through the leaves of the trees overhead and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot of a forest animal. Five more minutes and he'll get up.

Movement at his side makes him grunt. It's not much, just a shifting of weight, but it still forces a puff of air out of him. Underneath the cream undershirt of his uniform is a mess of slowly healing, raw pink flesh. His body still hurts from weeks ago.

The district boy's spear had stabbed straight through  the muscle of his shoulder and was rapidly on the mend thanks to Dr. Gaul. The burns on his back were healing on their own accord, albeit slower than he would have liked. All things considering, his wounds had been relatively insignificant.

He had seen tributes sustain much worse things in the games before. He'd take a couple of burns over a severed head any day.

This time the weight lifts almost completely from crevice of his side and his attention shifts to the body beside him. You'd been curled up, asleep at his side the the better part of an hour.

"Where are you—" His question is cut off as your weight returns, this time into the pit of his stomach, curling up against the curve of his lean body. It half knocks the breath out of him. You have the tendency to do that to him.

With your cheek pressed into his gut, your hand reaches out for his own and he willingly complies, linking his slender fingers with your own. Perhaps you don't realize it but this is the same way he first touched you, hand in hand back in the zoo, and it will always mean more than anything to him. It is this thought that causes him to bring your wrist to his mouth and press his lips against it.

His mouth is warm against your skin, and even if you don't know exactly where the gesture of affection came from, you reciprocate it with the same tenderness.

"What are you thinking about?" You finally ask, breaking a long hour of comfortable silence.

You.

Rather than answering, Coriolanus hums in acknowledgment of your question. "Corio—" At the same time, he swings his leg over your hip, switching positions so that his body is hovering above your own.

"Hi."

You grin, fingers grabbing hold of the cool metal of his dog tags that hang down from his neck.

"Hi."

Looking pleased with himself, he dips his head down, capturing your lips with his own. You were his, and he was constantly refiguring that out.

The kiss is sweet, tamer than what you're used to from him. Not that he's ever been unpleasant, you adored Coriolanus and just about everything about him. But he was a man. A boy growing into a man and that came it, its own boyish tendencies. Regardless, rarely ever did you discourage his wandering hands.

You can't help but smile at the feel of his lean, brawny body pressed against yours. He'd been thin with hunger back at the Capitol. His time in District 12 training as a peacekeeper had done him well. Not only had he become sturdier with muscle, but somehow taller too. One of his legs is wedged between your own, and through his trousers you can feel him, half hard with interest.

Coriolanus pulls away from the kiss at the feel of your lips pulled into a smile. His brows furrow together in confusion, but your smile is infectious and soon enough his own frown is tilted upwards. "What? What are you smiling about?"

You attempt to subdue your grin at his inquiry, but it's to little avail, and that only drives his insistence. "(Y/n). What've I done?"

"Nothing," you laugh, a palm coming up to cup the side of his jaw so that your thumb can smooth over the sharp protrusion of his cheekbone. Normally the action would be enough to distract him, but he's persistent.

"(Y/n)."

“Really, it's nothing," you insist. "I just... I love you." That is what you settle on. I love you.

You love the naivety in which he is able to love. Pure and untainted by heartbreak. Too young to know much at all. Even too inexperienced to realize that there were more ways to satisfy his desire for you than just kissing. His body wanted you in the way that a man wanted a woman, and while he surely felt the effects of that attraction, his pure intentions had yet to stray.

Coriolanus' clear blue eyes narrow in slight skepticism but he doesn't press you any further. "I love you too," he says, lifting his hand to slip his fingers into your hair and massage at the base of your scalp. At the same time, his thumb presses up into your jaw, tilting your chin upwards so that he can kiss you again.

This time you indulge him further and kiss him back a bit more forcefully than before. Your hand finds the short crop of his blonde hair, and like a cat preening under the attention, his body reacts in tandem. He half snorts in amusement at your reciprocation but doesn't comment, too pleased to pull away long enough to taunt you.

Coriolanus takes it upon himself to deepen the kiss, the force of his lips upon yours not yet bruising but certainly heading there. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring the taste of your mouth. At the same time, one of his slender hands slides down your side, his fingers grasping at the curve of your hip.

The day will come that his desires get the best of him, and he’ll want more of you. Frivolous things such as the wrestling and the making out that the two of you do now won’t satisfy him later. And while the thought doesn’t bother you, it’s nice what you have with him now. It’s so simple and so easy to love him and his still boyish self now. The time will come eventually, and that’s okay. You’ve got a lifetime together after all.

[dancingbirdie]

Here’s a smut idea that’s been stuck in my mind, how about the reader getting caught in the middle of “taking care of themself” and Astarion decides to join the fun but only to guide their hands along and just cooing soft, encouraging/teasing words into their ear 😩

Hi, anon! This was so naughty and I loved it. I wrote this fic in, like, less than two hours. So I guess that shows how excited I was to sketch this out haha. I hope you enjoy! xoxoxo

A Good Show

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings/Tags: masturbation (fem), praise kink, voyeurism, slight dom/sub vibes

Summary: Astarion catches you playing with yourself and is all too eager to help you finish.

*****

“Your wicked tongue got you into this predicament. You know that, don’t you?” Astarion smirked down at you, sprawled as you were on hands and knees over his lap. 

You whimpered as his fingertips traced across your backside, feather-soft, mapping the skin there. 

You heard the crack of his palm against your bottom before you actually registered the sting. A desperate mewl slipped from your lips as your mind attempted to reconcile the pain with the flood of arousal in your lower abdomen. 

You were so wet. Dripping, filthy wet. And he knew it. 

“Tch. So naughty. Not even a good smack can get you to behave. Whatever shall I do with you, hmm?” Astarion murmured. His hand resumed its tracing while the other carded through your hair lovingly. 

“Whatever you want,” you breathed, trembling with want from the obscene position you found yourself in. Naked, bent over Astarion’s lap, ass smarting, and cunt as wet as the Chianthar. 

“Dangerous words, darling,” he chuckled, dipping his fingers lower and slipping all too easily between your slick folds. 

You moaned as you felt him insert two fingers inside you and begin pumping at a leisurely pace. His other hand soon joined, thumb circling slowly around your swollen clit. It was all you could do to remain balanced and not collapse on top of his lap. 

You could see it so clearly in your mind’s eye. 

Although it was your fingers pumping inside you, it was his hands you thought of. It was his slender digits, impaling you again and again. It was his thumb circling your clit until you nearly saw stars. 

You’d shoved the collar of your tunic in your mouth to keep your voice muffled. The vision you were concocting was so vivid, it was nearly impossible to stop yourself from moaning. The humble little inn you all had settled in for the night was so quiet; you could only pray that no one heard you through the thin walls. But just a few more pumps of your fingers with fantasy-Astarion goading you on, and you knew that a climax would be nearing ever closer. 

Your hopes for secrecy were dashed as your ears pricked, honing in on the quiet cough emanating from the corner of the room. You froze. To your horror, you realized the door to your quarters was ajar and who else but Astarion himself was now peering around it to find you, perched at the end of the bed, trousers at your ankles, playing with yourself. 

You could have sworn you’d secured the latch on the door beforehand. But, then again, this place was in shambles. It was fully possible that the thing was too rusted to do its simple job. Either way, it hardly mattered now, given that the subject of your pleasure fantasy was now locking eyes with you in reality, his eyebrows raised in obvious amusement. 

“My, my. What do we have here? And, more importantly, why didn’t I receive an invitation?” he smirked. 

His voice spurred you into action, and you quickly rose from your reclined position to attempt to cover your not-so-decent bits from view. You could feel the red crush of embarrassment coloring every part of your body it could. 

“Astarion, I’m so, so sorry. I swore I closed the door earlier and… and…” you trailed off, burying your face in your hands. “Gods, this is worse than a javelin to the thigh,” you finished in a muffled tone.

You heard his throaty chuckle. “These locks are all but disintegrated, darling. They’d barely hold a mouse at bay, I’d wager.” 

You nodded, too mortified to continue having this conversation with him. It was bad enough to have been caught in the act, but to be caught by the very person you’d been fantasizing about? The gods were truly cruel. 

You heard the door close with a quiet snick. Assuming Astarion had sauntered off down the hall, your shoulders sagged with the weight of all that had transpired. 

You didn’t expect his voice to call to you again. This time, a little closer in proximity. 

“Well, is that it, then?” he goaded. 

You lifted your head slowly from your hands to peer at him. He was watching you with an intensity that one might see in a predator observing their prey. 

“What do you mean?” you hedged. 

“I mean, are you going to leave yourself half-sated, or are you going to finish what you started?” Astarion intoned. 

“What - are you thinking of staying for a show?” you retorted, flabbergasted at yet another turn in the course of these events.

“Wouldn’t you like me to?” he pressed, a teasing smile stretching his lips wide. His fangs glinted in the candlelight. “I heard you sigh my name, you know.”

You stared at him in horror, but he only chuckled again. 

“The wonders of elf ears and vampiric senses. They never cease,” he explained. 

Then he made his way further into the room, closer to you, before slouching against one of the bedposts at the foot of the bed. 

“I know you want to,” he murmured in a low drawl. “I can feel your arousal. It’s still boiling within you.”

Your breath stuttered of its own accord. His voice was so deep, so smooth, it was nearly impossible to resist. 

“I don’t know that I can…” you whispered, not trusting your voice to keep the gravity of your desire a secret. “What with you, you know, just standing there watching me…”

“Oh, darling,” he cooed, peeling away from the bedpost to crawl up on the mattress behind you. You watched him, awestruck, until he disappeared from your peripheral vision. 

“I plan to do much more than that,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. 

You shivered as you felt his legs stretch and line up against yours, while his hands came to band around each of your wrists. You groaned as you felt the hardness of his erection pressed firm against your backside, realization dawning on you that he was enjoying this, too. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” you breathed as you allowed him to lift your hands from your lap. Like you were a marionette on strings. His marionette. His strings. 

“Making sure you give yourself a good finish,” he crooned. “Now, lean back into me, and start touching yourself again.”

The obscenity of it all caused your cunt to flush with arousal all over again. You clenched on thin air, a pitiful whine escaping your mouth. 

“Three fingers this time, please,” Astarion whispered, nudging your right hand down lower. “I know you can take it.” 

Your fingers followed his orders almost of their own accord. Like your body was primed and ready to take Astarion’s demands, whatever they may be. 

You groaned as you sheathed three fingers inside your dripping cunt, pulsing them in and out. It was tight, so tight, but in the most delicious way. 

“There’s a good girl,” he murmured through a kiss against your temple. “Now the other hand, if you will.”

You whined as he guided the fingers of your left hand to begin circling your swollen clit, almost too sensitive to bear. 

“That’s it, darling. Yes. You follow orders so well,” he crooned. “Give yourself a good finish. Let me see how you touch yourself when you’re thinking of me.”

You were beyond words. Couldn’t fathom enough of them to string together a sentence. His name and a plea to the gods were all you could muster, and after a while those two seemed to blend into one. Astarion was the only god here that you could feel. And it was his praises you sang as he kept a firm grip on your wrists, forcing yourself to usher in your completion. 

“You’re so close, I can almost taste it,” he breathed into your ear. You could feel his ragged breathing behind you as you continued to touch yourself, back arching into his chest all the while.

“Give me a good show, darling. Come for me. Come with my name on your lips,” he ordered. 

Your body was more than willing to comply. With a last thrust of your fingers, landing all the harder thanks to the extra force Astarion applied to your hand, you wailed his name as you climaxed. Your body shuddered as you reeled from the pleasure of it, stars exploding behind your eyelids and reforming from the dust that remained. 

It was the hardest orgasm you had ever experienced by your hand, and you knew it had everything to do with the one who had been guiding you. You collapsed your full weight into Astarion’s chest, soaking in the coolness of his skin against your heated flesh. 

“That was… that was incredible…” you murmured after a moment spent collecting your breath. 

You bounced against his body slightly as he chuckled. “It was, wasn’t it?” he mused. “You gave quite the performance, I have to say.” 

“I had an excellent instructor,” you teased, eliciting a true bark of laughter from him at last. 

“Free lessons for you, whenever you’d like,” he retorted, kissing your temple once more.

[mothdruid]

Morning After

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x fem!reader

summary: while at the hard deck you meet a shy guy, but get him to loosen up with some shots. when you two walk home you learn who he is, Bob. Bob goes on the fuck your brains out that night, even stays over at your place. he quickly leaves in the morning, only for you to meet back up somewhere unexpected.

wc: 4.5k

warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, fluff at the end, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal fingering, blow job, cum play, spit play, pet names (angel), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bob fucks.

a/n: i've been cooking this one up for awhile and had it as an idea for even longer. this is my little crack at the bob fucks idea.

“What are you? A wallflower?” The words come out of your mouth with a particular tone, not one that you had initially intended. Alcohol always tends to do this, making you a bit more loose and unaware of your actions. It was such a drastic change from your normally reserved nature. Phoenix had always teased you about it, saying you became a completely different person when you drank. Eyes narrowed at you behind the glasses, his eyebrows knitting together. But there was a confused smile to the questioning look, one that made your heart flutter. 

“I don’t really know what that means.” A rosy flush tinted his cheeks, taking a drink from his beer bottle. You raised an eyebrow, questioning his reply. A gentle smirk pulled at his lips while he looked at your expression. “What?” 

“Are you being serious?” All of it was too cute. The way his lips curved into that half smile, words barely forming in his mouth. He took a sip of his beer while shaking his head no. “Like you know,” you nudged his arm with your elbow while your brain buzzed, “someone who knows everything but isn’t a part of it. Stays on the wall of things.” He raised his eyebrows again, biting at his lower lip while you watched him. 

“I mean, kind of.” A bit of nervousness laced those words, pointing out that you might have hit some form of nerve. A pang of guilt shot through you, the weight of your words finally catching up.

“Hey, I’m really sorry. I… I shouldn’t have said anything.” A soft look settled on his features, taking in your apology.

“No, you’re good. My friends are alway on my ass about not putting myself out there. I don’t mind, it was just an observation anyways.” You couldn’t help but stare as he adjusted his glasses, pushing the wire frames back up the bridge of his nose. You offered him an awkward smile before taking a drink from your beer. You leaned up against the wall next to his chair, the two of you silently deciding to watch the room together. It had seemed that your friends disappeared from the bar, or maybe your brain just wasn’t registering them anymore. That’s when an idea popped into your brain. 

“Do you wanna go do a shot? Maybe two?” He was mid drink of his beer when the words hit him. His eyebrows knitted together slightly, a look of thought on his face. You watched the him intently, finishing off the drink in your cup. 

“Ah, sure.” 

-

“Eight hours? How?” A tone of shock was laced in your words, your facial features reflecting the same level of shock.

“It was a big lego set! Like,” he paused for a moment to think, “a lot of pieces.” The two of you laughed at the thought of it. The both of you were five shots later and giggling all over the bar of the Hard Deck. The two of you had chatted about mundane things at first but slowly ventured out. The conversation had covered movie favorites to TV show horrors. Lego sets were the new topic, a personal favorite of the new man that had captured your heart tonight. 

The two of you were beyond the point of driving, making you thank yourself for getting a rental unit close to the bar. You knew this man wasn’t able to drive either, not sure whether his friends had also ditched him like yours had. The intention of the night wasn’t to bring someone back home with you. But after being the one who suggested the shots, you felt obligated to take care of him. Bringing him home would be simply that, taking care of him. 

A source of warmth brushed your thigh, pulling you from your thoughts instantly. The look on his face had changed when you weren’t paying attention. It was a soft look but different from all of his other ones, but with a hint of lust. A heat filled your cheeks, his eyes meeting yours. His hand settled on your thigh, not leaving its place this time. The warmth from his palm radiated into you, making you borderline nuclear. 

“This is gonna sound weird, but do you wanna crash at mine?” It was his turn for his cheeks to fill with heat, a blush blossoming over them. Lips parting slightly then closing again, his words not forming in his mouth. Panic had started to creep its way into you. “If you don’t want to though I get it-” 

“I’d love to.” A flutter in your chest was all you felt, the panic melting away. He hopped off his bar stool, the hand on your thigh lifting off for only a second. He offered his hand out to you, taking it as you got off your own bar stool. The both of you fished out bills to leave the bartender before leaving. 

The cool air was sobering, helping your brain start processing that you were bringing this man home with you. This man that you hadn’t learned the name of yet. “Wait, wait, wait.” The walk had barely started, the both of you on the shoulder of the road until you hit the sidewalk. One of his eyebrows cocked up, a questioning look on his face. “You’re not gonna kill me right? Cause like I don’t even know your name, and now you’re coming home with me and I just have too much going to die like this.” Word soup. Another favorite trait you acquired when drunk. 

A strong silence hung between the two of you, a car passing by to break it. A giggle started emanating from him, making it your turn to have a questioning look. The wrinkles near his eyes made your heart warm, the almost undetectable shake of his head catching your eye. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close into his chest as he started walking the two of you down the side of the road again. 

“I’m not gonna kill you, I promise.” A small pause had you, metaphorically, on the edge of your seat. “But my name is Bob.” 

Bob stumbled through the doorway behind you, hands low on your back. Bob walked a little bit further into the foyer of your house. After you closed the door you pressed your back onto it, you watched Bob lean against the wall. His jaw was tipped up towards the ceiling, staring into the dark abyss. Your fingers crept over to the light switch, flicking the switch and illuminating the area. 

“Wowza.” The light seared Bob’s eyes, him squeezing them shut. A giggle crept up inside you, pushing off the door you walked over to him. Bob rolled his head to look at you, opening one eye open. “What are you laughing about?” A big smile tugged at his lips, his body turning to meet yours. The two of you burst out into a laugh, his arm reaching out and pulling you closer to him. 

Heat bubbled up into your cheeks, cerulean orbs staring into your own. A gulp was audible, not sure whether it came from you or Bob. One of his hands trailed up, a finger ghosting over your cheek. The warmth of his body covered yours, sending a small shiver down your spine. Your gaze flicked to his lips then back up to his eyes. Bob leaned in close, his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear. Suddenly, he was pulling away from you, hand gently resting on your face now. 

“I.. I’m sorry.” A worried look had settled onto his features. Your hand covered Bob’s as you looked at him. 

"Sorry for what?" Alarms had started going off in your brain. Did you do something wrong? Was bringing him back a mistake? Was he actually going to kill you?

"I…" A softness gathered in his eyes now. "I was gonna kiss you." Your heart fluttered at his words, the heat in your cheeks burning more intensely. “But.. we are inebriated.” It was cute, his use of such a technical word. You shifted a little bit closer to him, only mere inches in between your bodies. You moved to the balls of your feet, pressing your forehead to Bob’s. That perfect cerulean gaze meeting yours. 

“Kiss me.” There was a small pause before you felt his lips met yours. It was a gentle kiss, one that you would have expected from a man like him. Bob slowly backed you up against the wall, his one hand staying on your cheek while the other moved to your hip. The hint of alcohol still lingered on the both of you, becoming drunk on each other now. His hips pressed towards you, pinning you against the wall. 

Fingers threaded into Bob’s hair, bumping his glasses and making them go slightly askew. His tongue moved over your bottom lips, asking for permission to slide into your mouth. Your lips parted for him, allowing his tongue to swirl around yours, exploring your mouth freely. You pressed your hips into his, rolling them up against his. The hand on your cheek moved along your jaw, pushing back some hair back from your face. 

Slowly the two of you undressed each other. A trail of clothes led from the foyer to your bedroom; you flicked the lights on when you passed the door frame of the room. Both your brains were still in a haze from the alcohol. His lips were like fire against your skin, nipping and mouthing the skin of your neck. One hand cradled your face while the other wrapped around your body; palm pressing between your shoulder blades. The pressure of his palm kept you pressed tight against him. The edge of your bed pressed into the back of your knees.

You climbed onto the bed, waiting for Bob to meet you on it. The only article of clothing left to take off were his boxer briefs. You sat on the edge of the bed, fingers toying with the band of his boxer briefs. Bob’s mouth was slightly agape, watching your fingers hook under the elastic band. His cheeks reddened even more, gaze stuck on your fingers as they started to drag his underwear down. His cock sprang free, tip glistening with a small amount of precum. 

“That feels so good.” A shaky breath left Bob as he felt your tongue lap at his cock. His hand rested on the back of your head; guiding you slowly as you started bobbing up and down his cock. You looked up at him through your lashes, seeing him adjust his glasses. A moan fell from his mouth every now and then. 

You let your spit start to drool down your chin, gathering at the curve of your jaw. Bob brought his free hand to your mouth, groaning while his thumb gathered the drool on your chin. He moved his thumb around your lips, stretched out around his cock as you looked up at him. 

“I could stare at you like this forever.” Bob let out a raspy groan when you pulled off of him, tongue dragging along the underneath of his cock. 

“That so?” It was the first thing that passed your lips, a small challenge to him. Bob smirked, his thumb rubbing spit on your bottom lip. 

“Let me taste you.” Bob’s words were barely above a whisper, almost begging you. His thumb stayed on your lip as you nodded. He sank down onto his knees, both of his hands trailing down your chest. You draped your legs off the bed, him settling between them. His hands palmed at your breasts, thumbs rubbing your nipples. He leaned in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

Bob felt like he was in heaven when your back arched, pressing your chest further into his face. Having someone of this beauty want him? It shocked him. But he kept swirling his tongue around your nipple, his other hand trailing down to your clothed cunt. He let out a moan when he pressed his fingers against your cunt, feeling how wet you were. 

“Got this wet from blowing me?” Bob questioned, kissing down your sternum and stomach. 

“Got a little excited,” you lifted your hips to help him pull your panties off, “at the idea of you inside me.” Bob kissed his way back up your leg, starting at your mid calf and ending on the inside of your thigh. His lust blown eyes stared at you through his glass. He flattened his tongue and dragged it through your folds. You dropped your head back, holding yourself up on your elbows. 

Bob kept up with these languid licks for only a moment longer. He started flicking his tongue against your clit, making you whine loudly. Bob brought his arms around your thighs, locking you in place against his mouth. He kept up his assault, randomly alternating the flicks and stroke of his tongue. At some point you had laid back completely on the bed, back arching hard when he sucked on your clit. 

“Oh my..” Your mouth was agape, moans and his name flowing freely from it. His right hand left your thigh, snaking up to your breast and squeezing it. 

“You sound like an angel.” Bob moaned, keeping his focus on your clit. His other hand left your thigh, coming down and pushing a finger inside of you. Your walls clenched around the finger, him thrusting it in tandem with his licks. Your hand moved down to his hair, almost catching his glasses in the process. Fuck, those glasses were really doing a number on you. 

A second finger entered you, then a third quickly. They were pushing and prodding against that sensitive spot inside of you. “Bob,” you looked down at him, “please..” 

“Let go, angel.” It quickly became too much, your orgasm rocking through you. You clenched around his fingers like a vice grip, his tongue giving languid strokes to your clit. Your legs began to shake as Bob kept going, not stopping anytime soon. His fingers kept working you while he started flicking his tongue on your clit again. 

“Fu-ck, Bob!” You grabbed at his hair, pulling it hard enough to get his mouth off you. His fingers followed soon after, an empty feeling replacing them. Bob audibly gulped as he looked at you, shaking and already thoroughly fucked. A small kiss was pressed to the inside of your thigh, Bob resting his head against the expanse of your exposed inner thigh. The thin metal frames of his glasses pressing into your skin. A comforting smile was on Bob’s lips, making your heart melt as your orgasm finally started to subside. 

“That… was amazing.” You whispered as you laid back on the bed, your hands settling on your stomach. Bob placed a few more kisses on your thigh, moving up your stomach to meet you face to face. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Your fingers played with the metal frames of his glasses slightly. There was a small devilish smirk on his face when he broke the kiss. 

"I'm glad you liked it," his arm snaked under your lower back, "but I'm not finished yet." There was that confidence he liked to keep hidden away. His arm tightened around your waist, hiking you up on the bed more. Bob had you in the middle of your bed quickly, settling himself between your legs. 

"I shouldn't need these anymore." Bob took off his glasses, setting them on the right bedside table. Bob leaned down and captured your lips again. His forearm was near your head, holding up a majority of his weight. Your legs were spread out for him, one of either side of his waist. One hand traveled up and down your sides, soothing and calming you while moving his cock closer to your cunt. 

"You ready?" Bob questioned with a peck to your cheek. 

"More than ready." Bob brought the hand from your side down to his shaft, lining himself up. Bob kept his eyes on your face, watching how your eyes fluttered when he ran himself through your folds. The head of his cock rubbing on your clit, sending small waves of pleasure through you. 

"Bob." It was a plea. You didn't want teasing, you wanted him stretching you out. Bob bit his lower lip and nodded, the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance. 

The stretch of his cock had your head thrown back. Bob let out a soft groan when he sank inside of you. Your warmth welcomed him more and more until he bottomed out. His eyes followed down your chest, watching your chest rise and fall. He brought his hand to the side of your thigh, hiking it up further on his hip. Bob nuzzled into your neck, nipping and kissing at the skin. 

"So tight." Bob practically whimpered, his hips slowly pulling back just to slowly press forward. The slow thrusts were agonizing. One of your hands threaded through his hair, your other arm draping around his shoulders. Just as you were about to say something, his thrusts picked up. 

Moans poured from your mouth, the head of his cock zeroing in on the sensitive spot inside you. Your walls were clenching hard around him, encouraging Bob to fuck you a little harder. Bob pulled back from your neck, watching your face for a moment. "Wanna see you." 

Suddenly, his thrusts stopped. Bob got up and sat back on his heels, keeping your legs spread wide apart. You were at his mercy now, your entire body on full display for him. "This way I can see all of you." 

Without hesitation Bob pressed back into you, resuming the pace he was previously at. That sensitive spot being targeted once more. Your hands dug into the comforter underneath you, back arching with pleasure. 

It felt like his whole world was spinning, watching you underneath him was beyond intoxicating. Bob watched his cock push in and out of you, watching it stretch you open. The way your tits bounced with every forward thrust had his mouth watering. Groans flowed from him as he watched you become more fucked out. 

"You're so fucking pretty." Bob grabbed your legs and set them up on one of his shoulders. His arms tightened around them, keeping your legs closed and tight. The sounds of skin smacking and your wet cunt filled the room. You felt that familiar sensation of an orgasm approaching. 

Bob knew you were close again, the clenching of your walls signaling it. Bob started thrusting harder, pounding the sensitive bundle. "Bob, I- oh fuck! Bob!" You tightened around his cock, your orgasm crashing hard. His cock slid in and out of you, fucking you through your orgasm. 

"That's it, that's it angel." Bob cooed, talking and fucking you through it. But his hips never slowed, keeping you at some form of high still. Bob moved your legs so one was on each of his shoulders. He watched himself fuck into you for a moment, his eyes flicking to yours. 

Bob’s head fell back, his thrusts never faltering as he let out a loud breath. You dragged your hands down his abdomen, “Bob, oh my-” 

“One more, I need one more.” The hand on your left calf moved to your clit, thumb rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bud. He started thrusting faster, keeping the circles tight and quick on your clit. The tightness in your abdomen had already returned, the overstimulation pushing out a rolling orgasm. 

When your insides clenched around his cock this time Bob lost it. His hips started to stutter while whimpers fell from his lips. Your hands were both now gripping the comforter, borderline screams falling from your lips. His whimpers turned to groans as his orgasm arrived. Bob pulled his cock out, leaving you empty. He pressed his cock between your folds, rubbing it between them. He unloaded himself all over your clit and cunt, spreading his cum all through your folds. 

Bob whimpered out a small ‘fuck’, watching himself fuck his cum through your folds. Your hips shook with pleasure, the slick wet feeling of his cum making you clench. Bob’s hands moved to your legs, rubbing the outside of your legs soothingly. He stopped his movements, looking down at you with an equally fucked out look. You finally registered his new look. 

A deep red blush covered his chest to cheeks, hair tousled and messy, with a thin layer of sweat covering him. He sat back on his heels, tilting his head to the side and cocking an eyebrow. His chest was rising and falling fast as he regulated his breathing. “Sorry..” Your eyebrows knitted together at his apology, wondering why he would be apologizing. 

“Why?” 

“Was it too much?” Bob asked, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee. You took in a deep breath, trying to regulate your own breathing. 

“No, it was really hot.” You smiled as he removed himself from you. Bob laid down next to you, staring at you as you looked at him. “Huh?” 

“Nothing, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You rolled your eyes, surprised that the man that just fucked your brains out would think he didn’t please you. “Uh.. where can I.. clean up?” 

It was cute, watching him now slightly awkwardly ask for the clean up. You nodded your head and started sitting up, Bob quickly getting up to help you. Your legs were still shaky as Bob helped you walk to the bathroom. 

The two of you cleaned up, Bob being as gentle as possible when he cleaned his come off you. The warm washcloth helped soothe the now slightly raw flesh between your legs. Bob quietly waited outside of the bathroom, waiting for you to pee so he could help walk you back to bed. Bob helped you back to the bed, the both of you slipping on your undergarments and you putting on a big t-shirt before climbing under the covers. The two of you quickly fell asleep, Bob holding you from behind tightly.

The loud noise of the alarm woke the two of you up. Bob sat up swiftly, surprised by the unfamiliar surroundings. You reached out, hand soothingly rubbing his thigh. “Hey, it’s okay.” Bob gave you a weak smile, laying back down next to you. The two of you laid there for a few minutes before getting up. You watched as Bob gathered his clothes, dressing himself after finding them all. 

“Do you wanna stay for breakfast?” Bob shook his head no. 

“I’d love to,” he moved to grab his glasses from the side table, “but I can’t. I gotta go get ready for work.” He offered you a weak smile, hating having to turn down your offer. You gave him a smile, getting out of bed and walking him to the door. You gave him a goodbye kiss before he left. 

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” You asked. Bob gave you another smile, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

Your morning moved by quickly, shower, breakfast, memories from last night, driving to work. The typical things in your routine. You sat in your car before getting out, thinking about the events of your night. God, you really hoped to see Bob again. If not, at least he gave you a memorable night. 

“Quiet this morning, Howler.” Phoenix teased while zipping up her flight suit. “Where’d you disappear to last night?” 

“Home. I went home.” You zipped up the front of your suit. 

“With?” 

“You wouldn’t know him.” You really didn’t want her to know about your escapade last night. Halo chuckled at the two of you.

“Chances are high, if he is a pilot I mean.” 

“That’s why.” The three of you giggled as you all finished up. All of you made your way to the hanger, seeing the typical two person tables set up. A few people were already sitting down at the tables. Hangman, Coyote, and someone you didn’t know. They turned around and it hit you. Bob. The man how fucked your brains out was sitting in front of you. His eyes flicked between all of you, landing on you last. They were glued to you, making you stop in your tracks. Of course this would happen, why wouldn’t it?

“What? You scared, Howler?” Jake yelled out, eyes drifting down your stare to Bob. He cocked an eyebrow, staring at the both of you. Hangman didn’t say anything else, turning to make a snide comment at Phoenix. You swiftly made your way to the table behind Bob.

“What the fuck?” You whispered. Bob was bright red, his embarrassment obvious. The confidence he had last night being tucked away.

“I didn’t.. you’re a pilot?” Bob questioned, adjusting his glasses and trying to keep his gaze low while the two of you talked. 

“You are too, apparently.” Bob smiled awkwardly, giving a small nod. You couldn’t help but admire how cute he looked like this. 

“Gonna introduce me to your friend?” Rooster joked when he sat down next to you. Bradley nudged your arm with his elbow in an encouraging way. 

“This.. this is Bob. He is a..”

“WSO. I’m a WSO.” Phoenix pulled that chair next to Bob out, a big grin on her face. Fuck, she knew. 

“My most recent backseater.” Her grin painful to you. The teacher started the class, silencing the conversation you all were having.

The class felt like it dragged on. You needed it to end, needed to talk to Bob. Privately. When all of you were dismissed you leaned over your table, getting a knowing smirk from Rooster and Phoenix. Bob turned around when you tapped him on his shoulder. His cheeks were still rosy, making you wonder if he had been blushing all class. “You, me, private.” Bob nodded and got up, the two of you awkwardly excusing yourself from the group for a moment. 

The both of you were silent in the side hallway for a moment. He was facing you on one side of the hallway, you leaning against the other side. “So..” You lead.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you.” Bob apologized, making your heart break a little. 

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t say anything either.” You said, not wanting him to feel bad. There was nothing wrong with either of you forgetting to mention that you were pilots. “It’s not like we knew we’d be in this group together.” Bob took a few step towards you. His right hand grabbing your left hand, fingers lacing between yours. A smile crept on your lips at his affection. It was something you could get used to. 

“At least now we get to see each other again.” Bob’s words were sincere and full of affection. His heart fluttered as he watched you.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” You heard some footsteps, the both of you looking down the hallway to see Natasha. 

“Hurry up you two! We are getting ready to head up!” Once she stepped out of sight Bob pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was your turn for a heat to fill your cheeks at the gesture. A happiness spreads through you, glad that he was going to become a constant in your life.

[distorted59]

First of all, I love your works soooo much! And I love you too

Please I really want Kirk Headcanons. He’s the love of my life! I want to cuddle him and also something smut things too

thank you lovely!! I'm sorry for taking so long, i hope you enjoy!! <3

He’s really shy!! When you first met him, he was very nervous. Blushing and stumbling over his words. (You thought it was absolutely adorable of course!!!) When he first shook your hand, he felt electricity running through his body. After a while he fell right into your trap, he was hooked. Begging for more every day. 

He gets flustered a lot when he’s around you. He would mess up riffs during rehearsals or stumble over his words. One time he didn’t sleep very well, because he was overthinking all night. (May or may not have been horny all night) and he’d show up tired and sexually frustrated. You’d welcome him with open arms and took a nap together, when he woke up (hard) he got nervous. Your smell and arms around him drove him crazy. You noticed him stiffening once he woke up and quickly figured out what was happening. You’d start kissing his neck and rubbing him over his jeans. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

loves to eat pussy. Like he devours it. All of the boys would be into it but he’s addicted to it. Very good at it as well. He’d pull you to the edge of the bed so he could grind himself against the mattress while eating you out.

“Fuck, you taste so good, baby.” Kirk moans against your cunt. His hips are unrhythmic and desperately grinding against the bed. 

you moan and tug on his hair, keeping him in place right between your thighs. 

“Hmm!” you let out a squeal as he hits just the right spot. Kirk is humping against the bed like an animal. 

“gonna make me cum just like this, honey, fuck!” 

I feel like he gives the best hugs ever! Loves to cuddle and hold you close to him. 

80s Kirk is such a cutie, I just wanna hold him and kiss all his worries away. like, he’s such a geek with all his comics and action figures. Imagine going with him when he wants to buy new toys.

“Oh my god, babe!” Kirk whisper-yells at you and holds up a new issue of ‘Monster Magazine’. 

“Is that the new one, baby?” you smile at him, finding it overly adorable how excited he always gets.

"Yeah!" He looks at the back. “I’m gonna get this.” 

He smiles excitedly at you and kisses your cheek. You giggle and blush a bit, not expecting the kiss. 

“Can I read it after you’re done?” 

“Of course, baby!” Kirk grabs your hand. “We’ll read it together!”

Talking ab horror…. he would be into monster roleplay…. HE WOULD DONT DENY IT. Like him dressing up as dracula and you are the girl who got lost….. like!!!????? and he finds you and traps you and bites you and fucks the absolute life out of you. Thank you for listening. 

Also, the fact that in all those videos where he makes a joke and no one laughs??? c'mon now… baby is just trying to have some fun :(

his stutter is so cute!!! he still gets nervous sometimes and can’t look you in the eye or form a sentence. but you don’t mind. <3

I have been thinking about this a lot lately; giving Kirk head for the first time. him all whiny and excited, not knowing what to expect. 

“I’ll be gentle, okay?” You look up at him through your lashes. 

“Mhm.” He has his fingers over his mouth, unable to even speak. You stroke him lazily and smile at him. He throws his head back and lets out a huge moan when you lick the tip. 

“Ooh~, baby!” He whines. “ngh.. fuck!” his chest moves up and down and he tries to hold your hair back for you. 

you lick him from the base up and put him in your mouth. You’d think he’s seeing stars, cause he lets out the most heavenly moans you’ve ever heard. 

“feels so good, baby~”

yes, just a silly little thought.

the older he gets the rougher he gets, i feel. I mean, the fame and money definitely upped his confidence. which isn’t a bad thing AT ALL.

One of my favorite eras of him is htsd, his hair is starting to gray a little bit, and his skin has that old deep tan. the mustache, the goatee. yes just yes. 

I feel like he’s such a tease!!??  imagine going out for dinner with some friends, or the rest of the band. and he’s touching you all over. 

“Does my baby wanna feel good?” he slides his hand over your thigh. He’s been touching your thighs an kissing your neck all fucking night. 

“Kirk, please.” you whimper. “Not here, why here?” 

“Why here?” he smirks against your neck and moves up to whisper in your ear. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this as much as I do, princess.”

GIMME THAT I NEED IT NOW

He’s a really sweet boy, has a kind heart and actually looks too cute to be in a metal band. His voice is so sweet, his hands are very soft. (they become more and more calloused over the years). He would trace his fingers over your skin and whisper sweet things in your ears and place soft kisses on your neck. 

ALSO Kirk with eyeliner!???? just imagine you making him feel so good after a show or sum and he starts crying in pleasure and it just drips down his face!!???? His face is messy and his eyes are red with tears as he craves more and more of you.

actually need that rn

and going to the beach with him!! maybe he'll teach you how to surf or just chill with you enjoying some drinks in the shade and going for a casual swim. <3

[lavendertales]

SEÑORITA: Chapter 9**

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: you get Javier to open up about his life in Colombia. meanwhile, when Steve invites the whole lot of you to brunch, it becomes tough to keep your relationship a secret, especially when Javier's confession burns on the tip of his tongue.

word count: 7k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut; lots of flirting, love confessions, mirror sex, cunnilingus & fingering, some dry humping , cockwarming, lil bit of praise kink & gentle dom!Javi.

A/N: so hiiii yes I am not dead, I am just not really posting anymore but I will see this story through. idk if this is as good as I'd hoped, but I do hope you enjoy it nonetheless 💕

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

series masterlist | AO3

There’s loud screams all around him. Smoke, screams, and the unmistakable scent of death and despair, all around him.

Someone’s screaming for him. Saying his name on a loop. Javier, Javier, Javier. Followed by Javi. Then a toe-curling help me and please, and then—silence.

A silence so loud his ears are ringing and pouring blood.

Except when he looks around him, there’s blood everywhere.

Blood, mass destruction, and an impending sense of doom that no matter how far he runs, no matter what lies he tells, it never leaves him. It is then, in that very second as he’s looking down at the bloodied and bruised face of a woman he once thought he could be with and save, Javier realizes that sense of doom will never leave him. He will remain forever locked in its harsh and cold grip, forever followed by the inevitable shame and guilt, doomed to drown in them.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “’m sorry—I’m—I couldn’t—“

“Javi. Hey. It’s okay. Can you hear me? Javi. It’s me.”

His name on a loop, pronounced so carefully and sincerely, so rich with care and an almost soul-crushing sweetness, awakens him at long last. He’s disoriented as he looks around, his temples and forehead dripping with sweat. There’s a hand gently resting on his chest, steadying his heartbeat, and it’s then that Javier’s eyes come into focus and they see your face. And then slowly the realization that he’s no longer in Colombia, no longer surrounded by pain, comes into focus as well, and that he’s in his bed, next to the most wonderful woman he’s ever known.

“Are you alright?” you ask, gently rubbing his chest through the t-shirt.

“Yeah. I’m definitely better now.”

He cracks a reassuring smile and so do you.

“Nightmare?” you ask next.

Javier nods, rather hesitantly. “I was back in Colombia. In Bogota.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Upon noticing the hesitation on his face, you’re quick to add, “It’s okay if you don’t want to though. I don’t have to know everything about your past.”

Something about that feels oddly endearing; Javier hasn’t met anyone who has been as kind and understanding as you and for every genuine word you throw at him, for every gentle caress of his hand or his cheek, he feels his chest impossibly lighter, as if all the pain he has been carrying with him for the past few years is beginning to wear off at long last.

Though his tongue aches for verbal release, Javier isn’t certain that he wants to burden you with the horrors he had witnessed and done in Colombia. You are far too tame to handle such harsh realities, even if you clearly expect the truth and nothing but it.

“I did things I’m not proud of,” he lets out in a coarser than expected voice. “Terrible things. Either for information or out of… helplessness or desperation.”

You don’t say anything; you adjust your position so that you face him clearer, even in the darkness, and let him continue.

“I’m no saint, by no means. I guess sometimes I thought my actions were justified because the end result would be good. But it rarely ever was.”

And before he knows it, Javier is telling you the chapter of his life which he deemed closed some time ago, from start to finish: he tells you about him and Steve and how they worked together; he tells you about working with the most gruesome group in all of Colombia in order to get to Pablo Escobar; he tells you about Helena and how he cared about her and how he got her traumatized simply because he pushed her too much for information; he tells you of all the people he threatened, shot, of all the plans he made and failed, how he got the so-called promotion in Cali and how it meant that Steve was the one who ended Escobar eventually. By the end of it, it’s nearly morning and you’re cuddled at his chest, listening to him breathe and caressing his cheek.

“I appreciate you opening up about this,” you murmur. “I know it can’t possibly be easy.”

“It is. It feels easier with you.”

You smile, chastely kissing his lips. Javier’s chest rises and falls with each additional shaky breath he takes as he forces his mind to collaborate with his mouth in order to get out those pesky three words that have been pressing on his conscience for weeks now. Yet the way you kiss him tenderly and sweetly, as if to reassure him that he’s safe and sound from any harm in this world, it shuts him up real good.

His mother once told him that when he’ll meet someone special, he’ll know it and he’ll know just what to say and when. He was still a kid at the time and he dismissed his mother’s words, but now he feels them to be truer than ever.

“So if we were in Colombia,” you say suddenly as a smirk graces your lips, “would I be one of your girls?”

Javier turns to you, faintly amused. He cocks an eyebrow at you, his interest visibly peaked.

“What?”

“Would I be one of many girls that fall at Javier Peña’s feet? One of the lucky ones who get to go to bed with him?”

Something aches inside Javier as you pose that question. It’s a playful one and while you have no ill intentions behind it, it dawns on Javier that the idea repulses him on a certain level. The idea of you being just another pretty face to add to that seemingly endless list of conquests, another forgettable name on there… he doesn’t want that.

Especially not when the reality could not be more farther from the truth.

“No,” he responds, shifting closer to you and removing a strand of hair from your face. “No, absolutely not.”

You smile, somewhat confused. “Why not?”

“Because you’re—better. You’re—you’re everything, you—“

His heart starts pounding, his throat feels beyond dry and it feels as if there is a huge ball of fire in his chest, waiting to burst at the slightest movement.

“I—what?”

Tell her. Tell her now.

Tell her you fucking coward!

“We should get some rest,” Javier mutters, stroking your hair and coaxing you into his arms so that you fall asleep as soon as possible. Once you do, he finally exhales, still burdened and haunted, but much more secure in his decision to finally come clean to you tomorrow, no matter what.

Except that when tomorrow comes, Javier receives an unexpected invitation.

“You free in about two hours?” Steve’s voice asks through the phone, and Javier gulps out of instinct.

“Yeah, think so. Why?”

“How would you feel about having brunch with me and Connie?”

He falters, and it’s as if Steve can sense the hesitation on his part because he’s quick to add, “Hopefully my sister’s gonna be there too. Also Sylvie and her boyfriend Zack, they’re coming too. You know, my sister’s friends.”

“Right, yeah, I think she mentioned them at some point.”

“Yeah. I thought a nice friendly meal would do us all good. What do you say?”

Javier meets your face from the corner of his eye and notices the question written all over it. He shakes his head briefly, a little “I’ll handle this for us” sign, and resumes his conversation with Steve.

“Sounds nice, I’m in,” he tells Steve.

“Great. Just gotta call my sister now. Or hope to get in touch with her at least.”

“Just call her, I’m sure it’s gonna be fine.”

The moment he hangs up, he stares at you with the same guilty face he’s been having whenever Steve’s been around lately.

“You need to go to your apartment,” he tells you in a grim voice.

You frown. “Are you kicking me out?”

Javier makes a face. “No, of course not. But you need to go to your apartment because your brother’s gonna call you and you need to answer the phone.”

“I could be sleeping in. It’s Sunday, after all. I could’ve been out last night. Hell, I could’ve been with somebody. Maybe I was with Dean and we—“

“Okay, stop.”

You try not to smile seeing the bothered look on Javier’s face. Instead, you inch closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Aw, honey, are you jealous of Dean?” you peck his lips.

“I think we’ve already established that I was. But not anymore. I’ve got you, and he can go suck a lemon for all I care.”

You scoff, kissing him again, utterly enjoying the sensation of Javier simply melting into your arms, into the kiss you share.

“You really should stop with this because if you don’t, we’re gonna be stuck in here for the rest of the day, spent and sweaty,” Javier warns, to which you cock an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, so what did my brother want?”

“He invited us to brunch.”

“Us?”

“Well, me. And he should be calling you any moment, so if you could go to your apartment and answer the phone, I’d really appreciate that.”

“But I could be—“

“Please. For me?”

You roll your eyes, sighing. “Fine. You’re lucky I’m sweet on you.”

Javier presses a kiss to your cheek, stroking your hand.

“But we need to set up some ground rules for this brunch,” he tells you sternly.

“Rules? For what?”

“We said we’re not gonna tell Steve about us until we’re ready, and we’re not really there yet, so no sitting together, no touching, no looking at each other unless absolutely necessary.”

“Don’t you think that makes it more suspicious?”

“Hopefully not.”

You chuckle. “For someone who used to be a bad boy, you sure like setting down rules.”

“I’m just saying—okay, just—just go upstairs.”

“Ooh, yes, sir.”

He knows you’re joking; he knows you’re teasing him, especially in that falsely impressed and sultry tone of voice, and yet a part of him still twitches at the thought of you being so willing, so malleable and needy for him.

It’s a thought that will never leave his mind—or his body.

The little bistro Steve chose—aka claims, because everyone knows Connie is the one who actually picked it—for the brunch is quite cozy: floral arrangements adorn the outside windows, little lights hang from the walls on the inside, and plenty of people buzzing and chatting, completely immersed in their conversations.

If he were honest, Javier preferred if the two of you showed up at this brunch separately—although in hindsight, that would probably raise more questions instead of burying them for good. But he still has a knot in his throat even when you assure him that nobody’s going to bat an eyelash and that they will all think you coming together here was nothing more but an act of convenience.

“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” you sneakily squeeze Javier’s hand. “Could you at least try to look less constipated? Just—you know, for at least an hour or two.”

Javier frowns at you, taking a deep breath and taking one last, long look at you, as if he’s trying to memorize every single detail about you. You crack a smile.

“It’s going to be fine,” you reassure him. “You care far more about Steven’s opinion than I do. I don’t care if he finds out.”

“I kind of do.”

“I know you do. And it’s so sweet. But so what if he finds out? I mean… what’s he gonna uncover? That his little sister is in the healthiest and best relationship she’s ever had?”

“With his friend and partner whom he particularly asked not to fool around with his little sister.”

“Javi, we’re not just fooling around.” After a pause, you continue somewhat concerned. “Are we?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Then you shouldn’t worry this much.”

It’s quite astounding how fast you’re capable of calming Javier down with minimal effort. But it works, and when the two of you enter the place and take your seats at the table, greeted by the rest of the party, Javier breathes a little easier. He avoids Steve’s eyes as he shakes hands with Zach and Sylvie, guilt weighing on his conscience like the heaviest boulder. He tries his best in remembering your words that this isn’t about Steve, it’s about the two of you and your newfound happiness, but alas, he remains just a little bit stiff throughout brunch as conversation starts flowing between all of you.

On the brighter side, Javier smiles to himself seeing you and Steve engaged in conversation, laughing with each other. You’re sitting side by side to your brother, which means Javier is right in front of you and gets to notice the two of you mending your relationship.

Then he thinks again of how hopelessly in love he feels with you, how he has been for the past several weeks, if not more, and how it’s all happening behind Steve’s back. Maybe you were right, though; maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for Steve to find out at last. He’d find out that his little sister is happy, and that his best friend is content, at peace.

Would that be so bad?

And then he feels your foot rubbing against his, sneaking its way up, just in the slightest; he inhales a sharp breath, giving you a death stare, and he gets his answer.

Maybe it would be so bad.

“I hear you finished writing your book?” Sylvie asks you, redirecting Javier’s attention to the subject matter.

“I did,” you proudly say. “I need to do the final editing, run it by someone, but I’m pretty confident it’ll be out by next year. At least that’s the hope.”

“That’s so damn cool,” Zach says in between mouthfuls.

“Truly amazing,” Connie adds.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Everyone turns to look at Steve, who’s got the brightest smile on his face and his glass raised up. They all follow suit with the gesture, toasting your accomplishment as you stare at your big brother.

“Really, I am,” Steve goes on. “I’ve always been. Always thought you’re amazing. Much cooler than me.”

“By miles.”

The table laughs.

“But it dawned on me that I never really told you this. So… I want you to know that I am very proud of you, every day. And I love you.”

“Thank you. And I love you too.”

“Here, here!”

 The conversation begins to flow easily afterwards: Connie shares Olivia’s latest endeavors and how she started walking; Zach and Sylvie talk about their relationship and how it is to live together, to which you make a tasteful joke about her pretending to still live with you as well and how you and Zach basically share Sylvie; then Steve talks about work and how he enjoys it, being similar and yet different than what he used to do in Colombia. Javier remains silent during this portion, sipping on his black coffee and pretending not to feel your leg sliding up his.

“What about you, Javier?” Sylvie asks.

“What about me what?”

“How do you like it at the precinct?”

“It’s okay.”

You eye him briefly, affectionately rubbing your leg on his shin, concealing a smile as you see him squirm in his seat.

“Javi’s having a bit of a tough time adjusting,” Steve intervenes.

“It’s police work. It’s what I know, and it’s what I do.”

“It’s what gives you nightmares.”

Everyone at the table turns towards you, the same surprised look on all of their faces. You shrug, ignoring Javier’s deadly stare.

“And you know this how?” Steve asks reticently.

“By talking. By asking and by actually getting to know people, Steven.”

“Let’s move on, shall we?” Javier suggests.

“What do you mean?” Steve resumes, focusing solely on you. “I know people, I talk to them.”

You take a deep breath, maintaining a neutral tone even if your pulse increases rapidly.

“You refer to Javier as your best friend, but besides work, how much do you really talk to each other?”

“We talk.”

“Sometimes too much if you ask me,” Javier adds.

“Point is, he is my best friend.”

“Really? Did you know that he has night terrors? Not nightmares, terrors. And not every night, but he has ‘em. He mumbles and groans in his sleep, sometimes cries or even screams. He apologizes over and over to dead people, to you and to Connie.”

“Oh, Javi…” Connie mumbles.

“Do you know how I know this?”

There’s a lightbulb moment happening inside Steve’s head, and it is perfectly legible on his face as he stares at you, then at Javier, who gulps. Steve says your name, still processing, and it is only then that Javier stands up abruptly, his eyes shooting right at you.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? All the way over there?”

You raise your eyebrows, quite surprised, but nod and follow Javier all the way to the buffet table. You notice the little crease between his brows, the way he purses his lips and you can tell something’s making him uncomfortable. Suddenly the thought makes you feel guilty.

“Javi, I’m sorry if I crossed a line—“

“You thought at brunch would be a good idea to rub your leg against me? With your friends and brother right next to you?”

You furrow your brows, even more taken aback. “Okay, not where I thought this conversation was headed,” you confess.

“Tell me.”

As much as you’d like to deny it or pretend like it doesn’t affect you, Javier’s demeanor is getting through to you in ways you wouldn’t have thought possible; the way he’s being so adamant about his request, his voice low and husky—

“I thought it would be fun, yes,” you shamelessly admit.

“You gotta stop it because otherwise I might excuse us again and fuck you in that bathroom.”

Speechless, you stare at him, mouth ajar and heart pounding in your ears. You find yourself incapable of saying anything for the next few seconds, and even more shocking, you find yourself seriously debating Javier’s words.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about it,” he says.

“Don’t tell me you’re not,” you chuckle.

Javier huffs, frustrated to the point of taking his own words into consideration.

Except he is trying really hard not to be that kind of man and be more respectful and wary.

“Gotta be honest, I thought you were gonna be upset about me saying you have nightmares,” you mutter.

“No, I’m upset because you were rubbing up against me with your brother right next to you, and I can’t keep going like this. So either you tell him about us, or I do.”

You stare at him incredulously. “Wait, seriously? You wanna tell him?”

“I need a clear conscience. And I really need it so next time I fuck you, I won’t feel so guilty.”

You chuckle, stroking his arm. You’re fully aware that the gesture hasn’t gone unnoticed by the four people who are most likely still staring at you two, but all of a sudden, you no longer care. Javier is right; just as he doesn’t want to deny or hide it anymore, neither do you.

So when you return to the table, the perfect comeback is hatched from your brain.

“Sorry about that,” you smile, turning straight to Steven.

“What’s going on?”

“As I was saying, do you know how I know all of those things about Javier?”

“Don’t say it.”

“I’ve been spending the nights at his place. Every night for like three months now.”

Connie and Sylvie are the only ones smiling, except the latter is sipping from her cup of coffee with utmost interest.

“Three months?” Steven repeats. “So you chose to sleep with my best friend to what? To prove a point, to—to laugh in my face?”

“Neither. Actually, it did start as a way to get back at you. But as it turns out, he’s great in the sack.”

“As advertised,” Javier adds.

“And you wanted to skip brunch today,” Sylvie whispers to Zach, who’s watching the exchange as speechless as Connie.

“Don’t—“Steve shakes his head.

“Oh yeah, he’s fantastic. Knows his way around a woman’s body better than she knows it. I’m talking about waves and waves of endless pleasure.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Actually, I think I might too. We haven’t really been careful, you know? It’s been a lot of sweaty, rough and yet so passionate—“

“Okay, stop! Why are you being like this? Both of you!”

You exchange a glare with Javier, both of you smiling at each other.

“Like what? Wild, unhinged?”

“Kind of, yes!”

“The way you’ve been treating me since I was 15? Which I haven’t been in years, by the way.”

“Please tell me you were using some form of birth control though.”

“Ew, shut up! Would you calm down already? We’re both responsible adults, we know what to do. Besides, we’re not just sleeping together. We’re going on dates and spending time together and… we like each other.”

“We’re not just fooling around,” Javier adds, unable to look away from you. “I’m in love with her.”

You stare back at him, ignoring Connie’s soft oh my God in your vicinity, even Sylvie’s I fuckin’ knew it towards Zach.

“Javi, it’s okay, you don’t have to—“

“I love her, Steve. And I did keep my promise to not fool around with her. What I can do is promise to keep her safe and treat her with respect and care.”

It dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve heard Javier say those words, and realizing he also hasn’t said them since his last real relationship. It’s a huge milestone in both your lives, and the fact that Javier chose this moment to confess makes you realize how much he must care about you.

“It’s true,” you add. “I—I love him too. I have for quite some time.”

“I fuckin’ told you,” Sylvie smiles. “I told you, and I knew sooner or later—“

“Not now, Syl.”

“Right, sorry. Continue.”

“Honey?” Connie presses her hand to Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t you wanna say something to them?”

“I’m really sorry, guys. I never wanted to… to treat you this way, to push you even further, sis. I guess I was just afraid that what Colombia did to me and Javier would be too much for you to handle. I know Connie got overwhelmed at some point. Rightfully so. But after all, I had her to come home to. Javier was… alone, and burying his problems in alcohol, cigarettes and random women. Relationships were out of question for him, and I saw what Colombia did to him overall, what all of that did to him. I didn’t want any of that for you. I obviously want you both to be happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I see you guys now being so happy with each other… it makes me happy.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t tell you earlier,” Javier says. “I guess we needed some time to figure things out ourselves.”

“Doesn’t matter now. Point is, I know my sister, she’s an amazing woman, and I—I missed the angle where that might be something good for Javier. Which it clearly is. And clearly he was full of shit when he said you’re not his type.”

“Just out of curiosity,” you intervene, “what exactly is Javier’s type?”

“The usual sexy, sultry woman.”

You raise your brows, to which Steve panics. “Not that you’re not! I mean, not that I think you as my sister are sexy… okay, this is weird, let’s move on.”

“Yeah, let’s.”

“I meant, you’re more the next door girl kind of woman, I suppose, and Javier usually went for the ‘right in your face sexy’ kind of a woman.”

“Relax, I know. I’m just teasing you.”

“Yeah, it’s what you do best.”

Everyone laughs, with Connie affectionately rubbing Steve’s arm.

“But listen, as glad as I am that we are talking about this and being open and mature about it, please do be safe, okay?” Steve says, and you make a face. “Also I know this goes without saying, probably—hopefully—but please don’t have a baby just to spite me.”

“Steven—“

“Please, I’ve learned my lesson, I swear. I promise I’ll be good! I’ll stay out of your relationship, just don’t—“

“Steven!”

“I’m not totally ready to be an uncle. I need to mentally prepare myself for a baby that’s half Murphy, half Peña.”

You roll your eyes. “Would you relax? We are not there yet. We may never be there. I don’t know. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but for now we’re good the way we are. Plus he’s teaching me Spanish too.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“But don’t worry, we only do it when I get a full sentence right.”

Seeing the scandalized look on Steve’s face, you burst into laughter, and the rest follow suit.

“I’m kidding! Oh my God, it’s so fun messing with you.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

You can’t help but share the laughter with the rest of the company, never quite managing to capture Javier’s eyes in your direction, not even on the way home. It only hits you the weight of the words that had been hastily, yet calculatedly, been spilled at the brunch table among friends and family once you get the inside of his apartment. You look around, finally allowing the day’s events to hit you, and then you turn to look at Javier, a warm smile gracing your face.

He confessed to everyone present that he loved you, standing up to your overly protective older brother.

“What’s going on?” Javier asks.

It somehow still surprises you that he’s able to capture the concern on your face, even when it’s not there. You’re not concerned this time around. Quite the opposite; you’ve never felt more at ease and more impressed by a partner. Granted, not that you had many serious relationships in the past, but this right now with Javier, it has so much potential to be something grand that it astounds you.

“About what you said before,” you start, your heart thrumming in your ears. “At brunch.”

Then it hits Javier as well. He inhales deeply, steadying himself.

“Right. So here’s the thing,” he clears his throat. “I’ve only ever said those words once before, and as we know, it didn’t end very well. Okay, in all fairness, it wasn’t paradise city from the beginning, it was more of a masked—that’s not the point. Anyway—“

You conceal a chuckle, staring at him with anticipation and a warmth that exceeds any expectation.

“I’ve only said those words once,” he resumes, “and I did mean it at the time. But I wasn’t really… in love when I said them. It didn’t feel like it should. But now, I think for the first time in my life, I feel those words the way they should feel. I thought I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t do relationships because I suck at them and there was never any time back in Colombia but… I think I just needed to find my match.”

You take his hand into yours. “Javi…”

“I’m serious. I’ve never met anyone so witty and funny, so—so badass. Frankly you could probably kick my ass and I’d be hella turned on.”

You don’t stifle the hearty laugh that escapes your mouth this time, and it triggers the same reaction out of Javier.

“The point I’m trying to make is… I meant what I said. I didn’t just say it to shut Steve up. I—I do love you. The best that I can, which I don’t think is near enough to what you deserve, but… I’m trying to do better, to—“

You cup his cheeks, kissing him tenderly. Javier blinks surprised at you, and his flustered face with his big brown eyes is so sweet it weakens your knees.

“You’re doing just fine, Javi,” you reassure him. “Are you kidding me? You’re so attentive and sweet and—and I love you too.”

Javier blinks in surprise again. Somehow it slipped right by him that you could reciprocate his feelings, hence why he’s rendered speechless for several seconds.

“What uh—I mean… you do?” he finally asks.

“I do. I love you. I should’ve said it sooner, I think, after you turned my story into a book. That’s… kind of when I knew. I guess I chickened out.”

“You chickened out? Why?”

You sigh. “Because… I never said the words before.”

“Wait, you never said ‘I love you’ to someone?”

You shake your head, slightly shuddering. “Well, you know my dating history and patterns, so none of those boys stuck around long enough for me to actually develop real feelings. And there was never any real connection between us. All we really had—“

“Ah, okay, I can—I can visualize what you had.”

“Aw, honey, are you jealous?”

“No. Just… not really a fan of picturing you have sweaty sex with some douchebag.”

“How about if I have some sweaty sex with a very good man?”

Though his interest visibly peaked, Javier still gulps at the notion of being referred to as “a very good man”. It’s the lie he’s told himself countless times back in Medellin and Cali and Bogota, and the same lie he operated under with the hope of excusing his horrid choices. But to hear now as something factual, something that someone as wonderful as you actually believes in…

“You could,” he finally says, stepping closer to you.

His hands roam around your waist, teasing from the small of your back; shivers run down your spine, prickling your skin.

“Is this how you were with the women back then?” you dare ask.

“Why the sudden interest?”

You shrug. “Not sudden. I’m a writer. Everyone has the potential to be an interesting character. Besides, I find the Javier stories fascinating.”

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, that Javier isn’t really around. All he was good for was some fast and rough outlet for release and… not much more.”

“So I take it that dominant, needy Javier is gone?”

He raises his brows, chuckling at the way you’re sneakily handling him. A part of him still fears this power you hold over him, but a bigger part of him is thrilled even by the still of your hand, let alone the way you’re capable of handling him.

He’s never had that, he realizes; he’s never had a woman meet him right where he’s at, handle him like a pro and then some more, and he enjoys it far more than he would’ve expected.

“I meant gone as in… gone on a vacation, not dead.”

You smile, teasingly playing with the hem of his shirt.

“That what you need now?” Javier teases.

“I want whatever you’re comfortable with giving me.”

That’s what ultimately sets him off. So when he finally kisses you, it’s rugged, needy and asserting dominance, but there’s also something very tender in the way Javier is holding you, pulling you into his body. Javier’s sole focus right now is exposing more of you to him, feeling you as close as humanly possible; therefore, he doesn’t tell you just how affected he is by your choice of words. He doesn’t tell you that this is the weakest, yet strongest he’s ever felt. If someone were to ask him how he feels, he’d easily reply “disgustingly happy”, words which he never used before.

He doesn’t tell you any of this; he lets actions speak louder. Calloused fingers, accustomed to manhandling and roughhousing, caress and cup your ass. With each passing second, the kiss you share deepens further, his pulse quickens and his jeans become more and more constricted. Never mind that it’s the middle of the day, in broad daylight; Javier wants—needs—to marvel at every inch of you, exactly as it is.

“Whatever you want from me,” he tells you through a shuddering breath as he slowly undresses you, “it’s yours. Anything.”

Javier surprises himself at how malleable he finds himself to be, caught under your spell, but he does not care one bit. When you look into his eyes and see his blown out pupils, you know he means it. You feel his words to be true.

You smile as you close your eyes and pull him in for another hasty kiss, stumbling your way to the bed. Javier strips you slowly, stealing kisses down your body while a breath catches in your throat. The sun shines right through the big windows on this crisp fall day, so there’s nothing to hide. It’s only when Javier’s hands finally pull down your panties and expose you to him that you notice you’re facing the mirror hanging from the wall of his bedroom. You shiver and on cue, Javier’s hungry eyes look up to meet yours. He smirks—because of course he does, son of a bitch.

“It’s a great view, isn’t it?” he murmurs, tentatively licking a stripe up your pussy.

His eyes don’t leave you when you sneak another glance at the mirror: it’s not huge, but big enough to fit your naked body and Javier’s head right between your legs. No good words cross your mind, even if your mind is in overdrive, begging your mouth to release some form of verbal speech. Your knees buckle and your heart beats rapidly when Javier takes his first taste. It feels like the first time he’s ever done this, though it’s really old news by this point. Recently you thought Javier’s existence is limited to one place and one place alone, and that is in between your legs, based on how much he loves spending time down there—whether he’s snug inside you or eating you out.

“Watch how gorgeous you are when you come on my tongue,” you hear Javier’s voice, lustful and dark.

“Presumptuous, aren’t we?”

You laugh a little, but it quickly fades when you feel two digits moving slowly in and out of you, a tongue collecting the slick gathered in your most sensitive spot. His nose nudges your clit, his whole mouth is seemingly buried in your pussy, and all you can do is moan helplessly, let one of your hands grab a handful of his hair and keep your eyes locked on the way your body curves and aches at his mercy. God, he’s so needy, so eager to please you and to give you orgasms; almost like this is his purpose in this world.

“Does it feel good?” you hear his husky voice.

His fingers feel like they’re splitting you open while you nearly fall apart in his mouth, and at the same time it’s not enough. It drives you insane.

You nod frantically, locked in the same trance of watching yourself getting ate out by Javier.

“With words, señorita.”

Oh fuck. You hadn’t expected that, certainly not the reaction it triggers out of you.

“Yes,” you exhale. “It feels so, so good, Javi.”

“Good. Touch yourself.”

Though your mind is in a haze, you’re able to follow his instruction. Your hand bolts to your clit, rubbing in circling motions. That, paired with his fingers pumping in and out of you and his mouth like a hot furnace devouring your pussy, it doesn’t take that much longer to get you to where you desperately need. Seeing you like this, being able to make you feel this way, it’s all getting to Javier too; he’s gotten so hard by this point it’s borderline masochistic how much pain he’s voluntarily taking in, so he unconsciously starts to rub against the edge of the bed. The friction is so good, but nowhere near enough. It’ll have to do for now, he thinks. He needs to get you off first.

A moan is harshly ripped from the back of your throat, your legs jerk and nearly trap Javier between them as pleasure jolts throughout your body. It’s electric, overwhelming, and simply unmatched. It’s too much all at once, to look in the mirror and see how painfully needy you are for this man, how beautifully fucked out you look in at this very moment. You notice his hips, desperately humping the bed, unbeknownst even to himself.

Javier pulls out his fingers, only his tongue remaining on your overly sensitive area, the strokes of it now gentler. You tug on his hair to make him attentive, and when he looks up, you see his face contorted in a mixture of delight, pleasure and neediness. And just like that, your body aches again, only this time for something more.

“Ah fuck,” Javier groans in his fast attempt to dispose of his clothes. “Didn’t notice I was—“

He sighs right as you smile, taking in the sight of a naked Javier, all in broad daylight for you to savor. He’s so hard now it almost pains you, so when you make a motion to get to him and stroke him, Javier nearly swats your hand away.

“Why not?” you ask with a pout.

“Because it’s gonna be a fucking miracle if I last more than a few seconds and I wanna be inside you when we come.”

You raise your brows. “We?”

“What did I tell you in the beginning that you’ll always have from me?”

“At least two orgasms.”

“I live up to my words.”

He’s wrapped the condom around his cock, now crawling in between your legs, the place he has claimed as his own and by far the most incredible place he’s ever resided in. He’s done this plenty of times before now, it’s nothing new; and yet, this very moment which reeks of anticipation and desire, this single moment in time when his hand is curled around his cock, guiding himself to your already soaked entrance, Javier wishes he could freeze it, keep it to himself forever.

When he slides right at home, deep inside you, you both moan in tandem. And it is the most damnable, beguiling and intoxicating sensation he’s ever known.

Probably because you’re not just another girl passing through his life and his bed. You’re not another random face or a number to the list of women he’s been with.

You’re the woman he loves, the woman he’d take a bullet for if he had to, the woman he’d move mountains for.

“Javi?”

You have this ability to bring him back with his feet to the ground whenever he tends to wander off, and Javier is nothing if not grateful for it, particularly now.

“Can you move? Please?” you plead and it’s so sweet he could come just from that.

Javier chuckles, the sound resembling that of a madman—and he supposes he is one, in a sense.

“Keep lookin’,” he instructs, a little bit of his Texan roots slipping in his tone as he starts to roll his hips. “Want you to watch how good you take me. How—beautiful you are when you take me.”

The grip you have over his shoulders tightens as his hips pick up a moderate pace, pounding into you with a mixture of greed and love. The more he sinks into you, whispering sweet nothings and giving the occasional order, the more you feel pressure building inside your belly. You do as he says, watching your body writhing beneath his in the mirror, and you shudder. His back covers a lot of the frame, so you mostly notice him from behind, pounding into you, and your nearly limp body underneath, taking him as he is giving himself to you.

The sensation of having him atop of you is stellar, something almost like it was meant for you and you alone; Javier’s stealing the occasional kiss from you, his hips more erratic with each additional thrust and his mouth whispering that he’s so close, so fucking close.

“D’you see?” he manages to get out through a wicked smile. “See how—how fuckin’ good you look hmm?”

“Yes—yes, I see it—“

“Mhm—good girl. My good fuckin’ girl.”

Javier loses any train of thought, be it rational or not, and when his orgasm finally hits, it’s all too much and too sudden, and when he can’t stop cussing or thrusting furiously into you, you cup his cheeks and tell him a simple “I love you”.

And he lets go, almost violently.

He’s struggling to catch his breath when he feels you spasming around him, and there’s pride to be felt even when he’s dumbfounded that you came almost at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you make a face at him trying to regulate his breaths. “I was kinda hoping… I’d last longer.”

You kiss him sweetly, gently, still feeling him ache inside of you. “It’s the sexiest thing,” you murmur.

“Having the endurance of a teenage boy?”

“No, the idea that someone needs you this desperately they can’t hold themselves in one piece. I love that. And I love you.”

Javier pecks your lips. “I don’t think I’ll get used to you saying that.”

“You should.”

“I love you too.”

You stay snugged up like that for who knows how long, while the sun rays beam down on your naked bodies. And then it starts to get dark, and you’re on Javier’s lap, slowly riding him and kissing him, aiming for nothing in particular but intimacy.

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tags: @pedrostories @psychedelic-ink @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs @casa-boiardi @fallenkitten @jenispunk

[silkscream]

𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩

ੈ✩ pairing: steve harrington x reader

ੈ✩ summary: you and steve settle your differences when he drives you home.

ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), dom!steve, fingering, unprotected sex, drug use, not edited

steve harrington is good at being patient. he knows this — and he’s taken pride in it, too. from surviving getting beaten by russian spies with robin to following dustin around as both a bodyguard and a surrogate father.

steve harrington isn’t good at biting his tongue, though. he says what’s on his mind at all times, doesn’t care (or register) if anything that comes out of his mouth is particularly stupid. but it’s earnest and it’s real, which is all that matters. 

with you, at the moment, however, he’s wary about what he says to you and he is absolutely less than patient with you. you’re frustrating to him to no end, actually, and he’s starting to let things slip that he might regret later. he feels like his blood is actually warming up from the mere feeling of your eyes searing into him during this useless argument.

he doesn’t even know what you’re arguing about, but he knows that you’ve pissed him off since the moment he met you. dealing with eddie munson was enough, but steve had gotten around to the metalhead after having him aboard the crew. but you, eddie’s best friend — god, you were a fuckin’ piece of work. it was like the universe created you just to push steve’s buttons. 

the situation at hand isn’t high stakes. not at all. it just so happened that eddie could drive himself back to his place on his own after the horror movie marathon at robin’s, robin fell asleep early on, nancy had just been dropped off by steve, and now you were the last one left on the way to steve’s house. and sometimes your teasing went a bit too far, you got under his skin too easily. he doesn’t want to admit how easy it is for you to get under his skin with just one look from you.

“god, you are so fucking insufferable sometimes,” steve mumbles under his breath.

“gee, thanks.”

he clenches his jaw in anger, but he feels a twinge of guilt assaulting his chest at the moment from the way your voice sounds so small, so despondent. silence ensues for about a minute and a half of “drive” by the cars.

real silence permeates the space when you pettily turn the radio knob down until the sound of ric ocasek’s voice fades to black. 

“what the fuck was that for?” steve demands, shooting you a glare.

“the cars are annoying.”

“this is my car, morticia addams. so i play the fucking music!”

ah, that nickname again. it was a rough attempt to criticize your style, which was mostly you wearing all black and having a love for eyeliner, but you consider it a compliment at this point. 

“then pull over and i’ll get out of it since you seem to abhor me this much!” you huff, hand clutching the door next to you. the action makes steve slow down to a stop rather abruptly because he thinks you’re actually about to jump out of his moving car. the adrenaline nearly strikes his heart.

once the car stops, he’s quick to shove his body into your space, arm outstretched to block you from opening the passenger door. you glare at him through heavy lashes. 

“no one uses the word ‘abhor’ in everyday conversation, you freak,” he murmurs. 

and to his surprise, you laugh. it’s a sound he doesn’t hear very often, and when he does, it’s not like the reason is ever him.

“i’m surprised you know what that word means, harrington,” you chide. 

steve wants to retaliate, wants to one-up you in any way he can, but the reality is that it’s nearly one in the morning and he’d be tired to death if you weren’t there to rile him up. and while he’s trapped you in the passenger seat of his car while it’s parked, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, didn’t think about what would happen after this. he knows he should make nice with you, just for eight more minutes until he can drop you off at your place. but the tension between you is as thick as fog. so he releases all of his inhibitions instead.

it’s like whiplash, the way his mouth sews itself onto yours like it belongs there. you surprise yourself as well for kissing back, for finally clutching steve fucking harrington’s full locks. you don’t even have time to hate yourself for it because of how good his mouth feels on yours. you realize how badly you want to crawl into his lap.

“to the back,” you croak meekly, but he takes it as a command. it’s funnier when it happens seconds later — you climb out of the car to get into the back while steve reorganizes his long limbs through the middle instead, nearly falling to the floor from his lack of coordination while you laugh in response.

“you’re so fuckin’ stupid, come here,” you roll your eyes, pulling him up so that he can sit in the backseat properly so you can straddle him. 

steve’s never felt this kind of elation in intimacy — not with heidi or lydia or even nancy. no, you were as unprecedented as it came, and kissing you felt like a leap between two fucking mountains. now that he’d taken that leap, he thinks he’s fine with dying considering how much this felt like heaven.

“you want this, harrington?” you whisper breathlessly into his mouth as you grind into his lap. “been awful quiet lately.”

“oh, don’t get all fuckin’ cocky like i didn’t kiss you first,” he gruffs, his voice low. the sound of it makes your core heat up, not to mention the way he snakes his hand up your body and onto the base of your throat. “my car, my rules. still stands, sweetheart.”

you picked the wrong night to underestimate steve harrington. from all that taunting, he feels the need to put you in your place, which he can do perfectly fine even if you happen to be on top of him. he grins at the way your breath hitches when his teeth are on your throat, when he clutches your wrists and keeps them in place inside of his bigger hands just so you can’t move. 

“tell me to stop and i will. i’ll take you home and we can pretend this never happened–”

“shut up,” you mumble. “just shut up and keep going.”

“okay. you wanna lay down for me on the seat, then?”

“no,” you whisper. embarrassingly, you can feel your wetness seeping through your panties. steve must be able to feel it too considering you’re wearing a skirt. you hated how wet you got from the moment he kissed you, and now you’ve fallen completely under his spell, the haze of lust exacerbated by the edible that eddie had given you an hour prior. 

“what do you want?” steve says with caution. he’s let go of your hands now, instead grabbing your waist gently.

“don’t make me say it,” you whine.

“you’re already on my fuckin’ lap, now you wanna be ashamed?” he scoffs. “tell me. or i’m driving you home.”

“want you to fuck me.”

“huh? what was that?” he taunts. “use your big girl voice for me.”

“i want you to fuck me!”

“atta girl.”

it surprises you how quick he is to discard your underwear for you, how fast he gets his fingers circling your wet folds in a way that makes your skin burn.

“steve, don’t tease me.”

he doesn’t respond, only smirks at you and gives your ass a smack. you whimper. steve doesn’t want to admit he’s on a power trip, he really doesn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve ever been desperate for him. for fuck’s sake, it’s the first time he’s known you really wanted him at all, but he still wants the upper hand for the fact that you’d pissed him off for the entirety of the night. he deserves a little compensation.

and you give it to him, you fold so quickly that maybe the edible flooding your senses is what’s making everything feel like a fucking movie. steve harrington fucks into you like his life depends on it and his strong hands are making bruises on the small of your back. 

his cock feels so good – so deep – that you’re moaning in ecstasy from the feeling of being split open. steve likes it when you bury your face into his neck, loves it actually, because then he can smell the scent of your hippie-dippy all-natural shampoo and hear every single sound you make right it in his ear. you’re too high to be embarrassed about how you sound. he thinks you sound angelic.

grinding on his cock makes your thighs burn, makes your entire body quiver when you realize the hilt of your position and how the piercing feeling of your g-spot means you’re about to tip over the edge.

“breathe for me, okay?” steve coos into your ear, a saccharine softness that confounds you. “you’re doing so good.”

when you mewl for him once more, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls backward just so he can see your face in all its glory, mouth ajar and widening from the impact of his cock inside your walls. he attacks your throat with small lovebites, kisses sinking into flesh until the skin bruises incarnadine-red.

you don’t recognize your own voice, how it’s so high and fawning and submissive. not you. the girl that most boys in hawkins high would be afraid of. steve has never been afraid of you – he merely saw you as a challenge. at the moment, this was a challenge he seemed to be winning.

“s-steve, fuck,” you hum, hot air surrounding your bodies. you’re titillating towards something as intense as the big bang, you think. at least that’s what your inebriated brain is telling you.

“what is it, huh? not falling apart on me so soon, are ya?” steve quips as he thrusts into you.

“feels too good,” you rasp. “i’m… i’m gonna–”

“that’s a good girl. that’s a good fuckin’ girl, huh?”

if he speaks any more, you’ll probably fucking explode. you’re too exhausted, too overwhelmed to ride him as he fucks you dumb, but he continues anyway. steve hands hold you in place with an iron grip, your body still as your figure drapes over his with arms wrapped around his neck while he fucks into you. 

“oh, oh my god,” you cry out. 

“gonna cum for me, you little slut?”

you can barely respond, instead moaning into his ear with an intensity that’s borderline obscene. 

“stevie–”

“you can do it, i’ve got you.”

he groans at the way your body shakes, tears pricking slightly from your eyes and coaxing out streaks of black eyeliner to smudge around your waterline. the sight alone nearly makes him come undone, so he has to pull out of you before he loses himself completely. 

“fuck, fuck, so pretty,” he gasps. “all for me?”

“yeah,” you whine, breathing heavily from your recovery but still grinding against steve’s thigh in anticipation of his orgasm. you watch in excitement as he stares at you starry-eyed, jaw slack while his hand pumps his thick cock. you take pride in the way he whines and grunts, the way he bites his lip to hold back his moans even though he can’t.

it doesn’t take long for him to cum all over your skirt. it’s funny, the way he’d been eyeing it the entire movie night and covering up his attraction with insults and banter. you pushed him over the edge much too often. this happened to be the one time there were consequences about it.

[just-a-creep-babe]

53 and 65 for some posessive HABIT action, if you're still doing the prompt thing?

Will I ever get sick of writing nasty smut for Habit? Mmmmh no, I don’t think so 😌🫶

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

53. “You can hate me all you want, but you can’t deny how good I make you feel.”

65. “I’m going to fuck them out of you. I’m going to make you scream my name so hard that you’ll never think of them again.”

He has you in a mating press, your thighs pressing against your chest, your body folded in half with your legs up over his broad shoulders

Both his hands are around your throat, his fingers tight around your neck, granting you just the right amount of airflow so that you don’t pass out on him

And despite everything, despite how overwhelmingly good he feels, you’re still pissed at him

“F-fuck you—“

It’s pathetic, the way you gasp the words out

You’re clawing at his hands, writhing and squirming beneath him, but you can’t escape the bruising way he keeps driving himself into your sopping-wet cunt

You shouldn’t give in to him—you can’t—for your own sake

“You still upset, rabbit?” he grunts, and as he says it, a wide, sharp grin spreads to his lips, “You can hate me all you want, but you can’t deny how good I make you feel”

It’s like he angles his hips on purpose to hit a spot that almost has you screaming

Your back arches, vision going white, mouth parting in a borderline obscene cry

“Yeah, that’s right~” he encourages, “look at that. Look at how fucking good you take my cock”

He emphasizes his words with brutal thrusts, his pace hard and shameless and entirely unrelenting

Your cunt squelches noisily around him, wanting more, wanting to feel the thick head of his cock pulse deep inside your fluttering walls until he releases the entirety of his load into you

Some indignant slew of curses get caught in your throat, escaping only as a few choked moans when he applies more pressure to your vocal cords

“Don’t worry, rabbit. You’ll forgive me soon enough—“

He interrupts himself with a grunt as you tighten around him

You’re practically gushing around his cock—oh so unbearably close to an orgasm but trying desperately to resist it

You won’t give him the satisfaction

You won’t cum around him after everything he’s done, after all the horrors he’s committed in the name of his obsession for you

“I’m going to fuck them out of you” he snarls, “I’m going to make you scream my name so hard that you’ll never think of them again”

He jams his cock so hard into you that it nudges against your cervix

You want to scream—it’s too much, he feels too good—but all you can manage is a pathetic little submissive whimper

“That’s right—take my cock, rabbit. Take every. Fucking. Inch of it”

His voice splits, demonic nature permeating through, and you think surely he’s getting close as well

Surely he can’t keep this up for much longer

One hand leaves your throat, and you gasp, trying to swallow in the air that’d been withheld from you, but he applies more pressure with his other hand, and all you can do is lay there and take it

You’re trapped beneath him, forced to let him use your drenched little cunt as hard as he pleases

You don’t want it, don’t want to cum around him, but he feels so fucking good; whatever meager willpower you have left is crumbling apart

“Once I cum inside you,” he grunts, “I’m going to mark you—head to fucking toe—and everyone’s gonna know who you fucking belong to”

Your toes curl, tears springing to your eyes

Every ruthless pump has his tip kissing your cervix

Waves of ecstasy crash into your system, tensing your muscles until you’re squeezing his cock so tightly it’s all you can feel

He’s all you can focus on

With his free hand, his fingers dig into the flesh of your cheeks to force your lips open

And just as everything’s becoming too much, just as your vision’s blurring and your thighs start shaking, he spits a thick glob of saliva into your mouth

It’s humiliating—the way you cum for him despite your best efforts not to

You’re helpless to resist him as even through your orgasm, he doesn’t once relent his brutal onslaught

He spits into your mouth one last filthy time, then takes both of your wrists in that one free hand and pins your arms above your head

“F-fuck—fuck! H-Habit—fuck!!”

You want to tell him to stop, tell him to at least give you a break, but he’s impossibly persistent

You're practically gushing with arousal—you can feel it making a mess between your thighs

You’re too drunk off his dick to know for sure, but there’s almost no way you produced that much slick without squirting

You whine his name, over and over again as he imprints the shape of his cock into your convulsing walls

“Good little bunny—good—fuck—good little rabbit. My little rabbit. My slutty fucking bunny”

His filthy nothings grow increasingly possessive as his cock keeps tensing and twitching inside you

“Habit, I’m—‘m yours!”

Your cry has a snarl rippling through his chest

He buries his face into your neck, and then your body’s thrashing as his teeth sink into skin

He keeps you nice and pinned beneath him as he rides out his orgasm in eagerly satisfied thrusts

And even once he’s released everything into your cervix, once you feel utterly stuffed with his seed, he doesn’t pull out

Instead, he keeps nipping at your neck, alternating between licks, bites and kisses

“That’s right, good bunny~” he hums the words out, and even then, his praises have your sex fluttering weakly around him

“Let’s get you all nice and marked so you don’t forget who you belong to~”

[bellewintersroe]

Sebastian Vettel x RBDesignEngineer! Reader 18+.

Set in 2013 during the GP, Jennifer is fresh out of uni and has made a name for herself within the F1 world. She joins Redbull-Renault as one of their engineer designers and easily fits into the team, forming friendships easily. Most of all, she captures the attention of three time world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

Part 10- here’s the LINK for part 9. This chapter contains smut, mentions of oral sex, protected sex (seb is an Angel ok) Seb and Jen are getting rid of some of the tension they’ve felt for months. Jen lets a little secret slip to which Sebastian finds quite embarrassing… Seb is shy🥺🥺 but also in the next few chapters I wanna explore his dominant, cocky side. I feel like this isn’t my best work but 100% more Seb smut incoming… taglist: @rainerax @peachiicherries @jaypreshpresh @mccall-muffin

Seb’s hand landed on the back of my head, deepening the kiss with just as much want and need as I offered him. My hands rested on his shoulders, the grey Red Bull hoody ever so slightly bunching up in my fingers. When I went to fall back down off my tip toes, believing the kiss was over, Sebastian dipped down, pulling me back by the waist. Our fronts pressed together as he firmly held me in place, lips moving against mine. He was bending me backwards, yanking my hips into his. I purposefully pushed forwards, hoping to feel the hard of his cock.

The kiss was getting a little too sensual to be in the hallway of a hotel, so when a family walked past, we awkwardly stood there whilst he fumbled the key card out of my pocket, clearing his throat with a head hung low. I accidentally giggled, finding myself unable to stop the burst of laughter until he closed the door behind us.

“What’re you laughing at?” He snickered himself, playfully putting a palm over my mouth, the other wrapping over my shoulders to pull me in closer again. “Just… it was funny, you were so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” He smiled, dropping his palm down to my chin as he caressed a finger on my skin. “No I said you were, not you are. Unless you actually are.” I rambled as he sheepishly glanced side to side.

“Now you are just putting words in my mouth.” The German squeezed my cheeks slightly as I went to argue back, but he’d kissed me, cutting my words off short. I hummed out a quick laugh, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. The laughter soon faded when he’d purposefully pulled me closer, stepping slowly until my back hit the wall gently.

The kiss was intense, our tongues were moving against one another and I felt like I couldn’t get enough. My fists balled around his jumper, pulling him closer, and when I felt the hardness in his trousers press up against my abdomen a soft moan escaped my mouth, remembering exactly what he’d been doing to himself last night. Sebastian reacted by bucking them up slightly, and I gasped, breaking the kiss, “are you ok?” He asked as I nodded, smiling back as I held his gaze.

Sebastian smiled and dipped his head, kissing down my jaw and neck. I gasped out, the intensity of his kisses making me breathless as I replayed the sounds of his moans over and over again. “Seb.” I whimpered, fingers raking through his hair. He continued his kissing as my head dropped back in utter arousal against the wall he had me up against.

“Fuck… I heard you last night.” I managed out as Seb paused, standing up a little straighter as he watched me with almost horror in his eyes.

“I-I heard you, saying mine name, everything.” His cheeks immediately warmed as I continued speaking, not wanting him to feel ashamed. “You should've come in.” I pressed myself closer to him, hands falling to his crotch where I grazed my fingers over the button on his jeans. God knows why he was wearing them when he was hungover. I kissed the corner of his lips on my tip toes, his smile widening as he held his forehead. “I am so embarrassed.”

“No, no. Don’t be.” I paused my actions, holding onto the waist of his pants instead. Sebastian swallowed, scanning my eyes. “I thought the door was shut.” He awkwardly laughed, head dropping as I meant back against the wall, swinging on his waist band ever so slightly. My pussy was throbbing thinking about him touching himself for me, I wanted to hear those moans again, I needed it.

“I didn’t realise you heard.” He laughed again, stepping a little closer. “Fuck.” He cursed, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s fine, Seb. I just… couldn’t exactly concentrate on anything else this morning.” I swallowed, maintaining eye contact with him.

“Why?” He half smirked, watching down to me, a hand planting on the wall besides me. A small shyness took over me as I giggled. “Thinking about what I heard, obviously.” I glanced at him up and down as he stepped closer, kissing my forehead before meeting my lips once again.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” I hushed, Seb hummed gently against my mouth. “I liked it.” I hushed as he let out a soft groan, sliding his hand down from the wall, to the back of my neck to kiss me with a stronger need, practically moaning against my mouth. My fingers then fumbled to undo his button, feeling a relief when I slipped his jeans down, resting my hand right over where his cock began.

“I need you.” Seb practically growled, rolling his hips into my hand, he went to make a start on my shorts, but I’d already pulled his cock free, glancing down to see his large member, rock hard in my smaller hand. We both looked down at the same time, making eye contact and smiling gently before I began stroking him slowly.

“I need you, Seb.” My voice barely reached above a whisper, feeling slightly shy as I began pleasuring him. Sebastian’s eyes fluttered shut, head falling against the wall besides me, lips pressing to the top of my head as I felt my stomach fill with butterflies.

“Have me.” His voice cracked as I let out a closed mouth moan, falling down to my knees for him at the admission. I glanced up, watching him mesmerised with me, our eyes met and I licked his tip, watching his face contort in pleasure before I wrapped my mouth around his tip, taking him in in my mouth. I hadn’t sucked anybody’s dick in so long, especially not somebody I found this attractive. I suddenly felt under pressure so I just remembered to make him as wet as possible, eventually using my hand to jerk off part of his cock I couldn’t fit down my throat.

Sebastian was breathing heavily, groaning each time I took him as far back. I tried not to gag and choke, but he was big and my gag reflex wasn’t the best. I sucked him a little more firmly, feeling his hand wrap in my hair, resting on the back of my head as he groaned, swearing out as he rested against the wall, feeling the bob of my head. “Fuck, that feels so good. You’re so good.” He grunted out followed by the sexiest groan I had ever heard. My legs tightened, feeling the desperation growing in my pussy. “Put your hands down your pants, touch yourself.” His words had me moaning around his cock. Who knew he had such a dirty mouth? I followed his instructions, moaning as I sucked a little harder, his cock muffling any noise that escaped my lips.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Sebastian’s hips bucked out as I gagged slightly. “Sorry, sorry.” He gently took hold of my chin as I pulled off with a gasp. “Are you ok?” “I’m good.” I nodded with a smile, sucking his tip as he let out a closed mouth groan, brushing my hair tenderly out of my hair. “Fuck, you could make me cum so quick.” Sebastian spoke as I giggled, allowing him to hold my head still, just in front of his cock. He pulled me up, practically lifting me off the floor as my legs wrapped around his waist. “Oh my god.” I laughed as he offered me a shy smile before kissing me with a hunger I almost couldn’t keep up to.

Sebastian eased me back onto my feet, hand stuffing under my shorts and under my thongs. I could feel the slick of my wetness against his fingers. My breath hitched as he rubbed against my clit, over my hole and eventually sliding a finger in. Sebastian had the most fucking talented fingers, he had me moaning and gasping for air in no time.

I could feel myself growing wetter and wetter as he used his other hand to rub on my clit, kissing me desperately as I whined and whimpered in his mouth, my legs shaking furiously. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” I gasped out the words in shock. My hips were gyrating in the movement of Sebastian’s and he was flushed in the face, mouth agape as he brought me to my peak.

“Cum, cum for me.” Sebastian muttered as I felt myself letting go, hiding my face in his shoulder as I felt the tightness in my stomach explode. My legs turned weak and I was borderline trembling, holding onto his shoulders for support as he coerced me through my orgasm. Holy fuck, no man had ever made me finish so quickly in my life.

“Fuck.” I cursed as he let out a soft throaty groan, pulling out of me gently. “Let’s get these off.” He slowly tugged at the waist of my leggings, “wait!” My eyes fell on the curtains. “Can we- can we close the curtains first?” I didn’t need any harsh, direct sunlight on me, not when I was getting naked in front of Sebastian.

“Of course.” We shared another sweet kiss, before he pulled his boxers back on, but kicked free of his jeans. When he went to close the curtains, I sat on the edge of the bed, smiling shyly down to my waist. Sebastian was slow with his movements, running a hand down my thigh before tugging at the material, freeing me of both my underwear and leggings at once. “I want to taste you.” His words were barely a whisper, but I let out a soft moan in response, feeling the warm wet kiss of his lips over my thighs. Sebastian moved forwards, pushing my legs aside slightly as he began licking at my dripping pussy. I was sensitive. My head dropped back with a slight moan as he dove deeper in, pleasuring me gently as he groaned into my core. My hand fisted at the sheets, tightening my grip around the white fabric as though I’d rip it.

“Fuck me, Seb.” I whined, hips bucking up into his mouth. He hummed against my pussy, hands smoothing over my thighs as he remained pleasuring me for a few more moments before pulling up again. “You want to?” He double checked as I nodded, perching up slightly on my elbows.

“Yeah.” I agreed. “I need ah- a condom. Fuck.”

“You don’t have any?” I watched him half naked scurry towards his suitcase, rummaging through. “I do.” He pulled one out, sitting on the edge of the bed to roll it on. He seemed nervous, a little shy- it made me feel I was losing my virginity again. Maybe that was a weird thing to think.

Sebastian climbed on top of me after discarding his t shirt to the floor. We were both completely naked now and I swallowed nervously feeling him brushing the tip of his cock against my lips. I always preferred sex raw, it felt better, but I wasn’t complaining, especially when I felt the stretch of his cock filling inside of me.

I gasped gently, Sebastian paused, lifting his head. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah, it’s good.” I nodded. Hand holding onto his arms as he pushed himself up slightly, hands on either side of me as I hummed out a gently moan when he thrusted into me. “Let me know if you want to stop.” He muttered as I pulled him down into a kiss. “I will.” After that comment we moved into the love making, Seb fucking into me as he released all the pent up sexual tension that had existed between us before. The bed squeaked beneath us and our bodies grew hotter with the movements we shared.

When he was close to climax, his hand cupped my cheek, watching back to me with a pleasured expression that almost made me feel like I was dreaming. “Fuck.” He cursed, jaw tightening before abruptly opening again and a quick moan left his mouth. “Seb.” I cooed, lifting my hips slightly.

His head dropped down besides mine, lips pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek. “I wanted you for so long.” He dirty talked. In return, my legs spread wider and I pressed my hands into his lower hips, pulling him in harder.

“Harder, Seb.” I whispered. “If I go any harder, I’ll cum.” He warned.

“I want you to.” I moaned into his ear as he let out a satisfied groan at my words, catching me off guard with another kiss before fucking his hips into me harder, faster, there was more passion. Holy shit he was good.

As he reached his climax, I could feel the tremble of his tense arms, the way his legs wriggled slightly, chasing his orgasm. His breathing became heavier and his voice was clouded by grunts and slight moans I could tell he was holding back.

“Cum for me, Seb-” was all I managed out before he came crashing down, eyes screwing shut before his hips snapped and his body was thrown into an overwhelming orgasm. I don’t know how, or why, but Sebastian reaching his peak was so hot and overwhelming that I seemed to come crashing down after him.

“Fuck.” I cursed, head lolling to the side as my chest rose and fell quickly. Seb’s body crashed down on top of me, breathing eventually slowing down from his orgasm. I imagined what it would’ve felt like if he didn’t have a condom on, the feeling of being so irreplaceably full with him.

“Sebastian.” I hummed out a quiet moan, hand running down the back of his head, as I felt his hot breaths against the crook of my neck.

“Are you ok?” He gently cooed, chest flush to my own. “Yeah… are you?” I whispered as he pressed his lips to mine, hips rolling gently, barely even there, as he milked the last of our orgasms.

“Yeah.” He sexily sighed out. The two of us glanced down as he pulled out slightly, I grimaced a little at the feeling before he kissed me several more times.

As Sebastian was pulling the condom off and discarding of it, he began speaking again. “I could’ve… lasted longer, it’s just, you were really good.” My stomach knotted at his words, I smiled back to him.

“I like it, Seb. You were good.” I shyly pulled the covers over myself, sitting up. As I watched him, I was almost in disbelief that this had actually happened.

Only weeks prior we were ‘friends’ with an undeniable attraction, I never actually thought anything would happen between us. Looking back to when I was still with my ex, compared to now, I felt like my life had done a complete 360, and I was so excited to see what else Sebastian and I could get up to…

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Save a horse, ride a cowboy | Chad Meeks Martin x Reader

Summary: You make a move on Chad and end up in an empty bedroom with his cowboy hat on, riding another kind of horse

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: smut, p + v action,

Request: Can you write Chad in his little cowboy costume and reader riding him? Maybe she can wear his hat while doing so?

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

You met Chad through his sister Mindy. She and you had classes together at Blackmore university and became friends through your passion for horror movies.

One evening, you were in her dorm, catching up on the latest horror releases, when Chad stopped by and asked for five dollars. Mindy had mentioned having a twin brother before, but you didn’t expect him to be the tall and handsome type.

Unfortunately for him, Mindy didn’t have five dollars to give him — but you did.

‘’I can’t take that,’’ Chad said with a short shake of his head, refusing your money. He had no problem taking it from Mindy, but his sister’s friend who he didn’t know? He couldn’t. ‘’It’s your money. You might need it.’’

‘’I don’t need it. You do.’’ You held the folded dollar bill between your fingers, insisting. ‘’Take it.’’

Chad sighed and finally accepted. ‘’I’ll pay you back next week,’’ he promised.

You slipped the money in his jacket’s pocket, then looked up at him with a flirtatious smile. ‘’Let’s make another deal. You keep the money, but you give me your number?’’

His mouth curled into a soft smile, eyebrows rising, getting on the same page as you. ‘’Alright. Deal.’’ He took your phone and typed his number as you bit your lower lip, failing to suppress a smirk. ‘’Text me later?’’

When you returned to the couch to get back to the movie, Mindy made a gagging sound, recognizing the flirty look in her brother’s eyes.

A few weeks — and several late night conversations and R-rated pics — later, you ran into Chad at a Halloween party on campus. He was dressed as a cowboy, with only a bandana around his neck and stupid straw cowboy hat for accessories. Your breath caught in your throat. Fuck, he looked hot.

‘’I can’t believe we’re sitting here on fucking Halloween,’’ Mindy complained, taking a sip of her beer. ‘’We should be having a horror movie marathon and stuffing our faces in candies. That’s what Halloween is about. Not some frat party where everyone is dressed as a sexy version of generic costumes.’’

Although you were sitting right beside her, you weren't listening much. Your attention and eyes were drawn to her brother, watching intently as he played beer-pong with some frat boys — and easily kicked their asses. Every time he threw the ball, his bicep would flex and he would bite his lip in concentration before.

‘’Y/N? Are you listening to me?’’ Mindy’s eyes followed your line of vision, confirming that you were in fact not listening, and snapped you out. ‘’Please stop ogling my brother. I can feel the beer I drank coming up my throat.’’

You brought your red cup to your lips, averting your eyes from Chad. ‘’I’m not—’’

Mindy rolled her eyes. ‘’Oh, please. He’s been asking me all week if you would be coming to the frat party.’’

You heard cheering coming from the beer pong table and saw that Chad had — again — won. You smiled, but it fell shortly after when you saw a blonde in a sexy nurse costume clinging to his side, tapping him on the upper arm and no-so-subtly feeling his bicep. She leaned closer, her back turned to the other boys, and whispered something to Chad.

You were boiling with jealousy.

‘’I’m gonna get another drink,’’ you declared, standing from the couch. ‘’Be right back.’’

Mindy scoffed, watching you striding in her brother’s direction. ‘’No you won’t!’’

She was right.

When you started college, you vowed to yourself to never start a fight over a boy, but tonight, nothing was gonna stop you. This fake nurse was playing in your lane and you couldn't lose.

You quickly schemed, letting strategy set the scene, and casually walked by Chad, making sure to brush his arm when passing by, laying the groundwork. And then, just like clockwork, the dominoes cascaded in a line.

His attention shifted away from the blonde, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. ‘’Hey. I didn’t know you were coming.’’ His body was inclined toward you, a sign that the other girl was forgotten.

You brushed a finger along the seam of his turquoise bandana. ‘’Nice costume. Were you on a tight budget?’’

Chad laughed, not at all offended by your quip at his financial situation.

The blonde girl grabbed Chad’s arm again, rudely interrupting your exchange. ‘’Are we gonna go upstairs?’’ she asked, leaning forward in an attempt to flash more of her cleavage.

Unfortunately for her, Chad brushed her off, having only eyes for you. He put an arm behind your shoulder and led you away. You ended up in the kitchen, sitting on the counter while Chad was mixing drinks. From this new height, you had a better close up of his face; the perfectness of his eyebrows, the two scars on his cheek and over top lip. Those lips — you wanted to kiss him.

‘’Cherry or orange?’’ he asked, holding two liquor bottles.

‘’Cherry.’’ Always cherry.

Chad put down the orange one and poured the other one into cups. While he was doing so, you took advantage of his inattention to steal his hat and put it on your head.

In rodeo, there was a few rules and superstitions about cowboy hats. One of them was: never let someone wear your hat unless you plan on taking them home.

He looked up, his expression lustful at the sight of you in his cowboy hat. ‘’You’re gonna be my cowgirl tonight?’’ he asked, a finger under your chin to look you in the eyes.

The moment between leaving the kitchen and getting to an empty bedroom upstairs was a blur to you. All you knew was that Chad’s mouth crashed on yours the second the bedroom door shut, backing you against it. He would've taken you to his dorm, but he didn’t want to risk Ethan coming in and ruining the moment. Having a roommate fucking sucked.

His hands were on your hips and face, pulling you closer and kissing you with a reciprocated burning passion. You could feel the pulse of his heartbeat as his bare chest was pressed against you, warm and hard. Muscles were usually not your thing, but Chad made you want to trail your tongue over his abs and pecs.

If Mindy were to hear you, she would vomit.

A slight squeak left your lips as your feet left the floor and Chad’s hands grabbed your thighs. Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, breaking the kiss for half a second. He chuckled and your back left the door as Chad carried you to the bed, sitting down with you over his lap.

You could feel his hard cock straining against his pants, right under your ass. Arousal dampened your panties and your core tightened.

Chad cursed under his breath as you rolled your hips down, his eyes fluttered slightly at the pressure.

His mouth trailed to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses as you ran your hands over his chest, feeling the slopes of his muscles. You’ve been wanting to do that since he sent you that shirtless selfie taken in a bathroom mirror, towel very low on his hips. Good thing your roommate was not home, you had never fetched your vibrator faster.

The room was getting hot, figuratively and factually. Your hands left Chad’s body and moved to unbutton your shirt. Chad pressed a last kiss to your jaw and pulled back, his eyes following the movement hungrily. He took a sharp inhale when you revealed your bra, then reclaimed your lips as you reached for the clasp in the back and let both garments fall.

Without disconnecting your mouths, one of his hands came up to cup your breast, palming the soft flesh. His touch was gentle, and the smile etched on his lips boy-ish. He couldn’t wait to watch them bounce and jiggle when you’ll be riding his cock. Chad grunted at the idea. His erection was pulsing beneath his jeans, desperately wanting free.

As if you had read his thoughts, you reached to undo his belt and unzip his pants, pulling his cock out and making Chad moan when you brushed your thumb over the tip.

‘’Ah, fuck.’’ He was so sensitive and needy.

You wanted to take him into your mouth all the way down and swallowing it whole until the tip hit the back of your throat, flick your tongue at the tip and lick all the pre-cum leaking like it was birthday cake icing, but whoever’s room this was would come banging on the door at some point and you’d really hate to not have gotten to the fun part yet.

Standing, you rid yourself of your clothes as Chad did the same.

Ignoring your body insecurities, you shifted your gaze to him, taking him in in all his naked glory, and he tapped his lap in invitation. ‘’Ready for the rodeo, babydoll?’’

You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh to run out of the room. Why did a good looking man like Chad have to have a dad-like sense of humor? You really can’t have it all, uh?

Ignoring the terrible joke, you pushed him down on his back and clambered onto his lap. His mouth turned up at the corner, his eyes raking over your breasts as they rose and fell. Your nipples were pointed proudly towards him, begging for attention. Chad took one of the buds between his fingers and pinched lightly, eliciting a moan from you.

He had priorly gotten a condom from his wallet and put it on to save time. Smart thinking.

You took his hard cock into your hand and brushed the tip against your pussy from your entrance to your clit, smearing your wetness.

Chad‘s eyes fluttered closed at your teasing. You did it again and the boy beneath you had to hold his hands down to not push you down on his cock. ‘’Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.’’

‘’That would be unfortunate, would it?’’ you said, lining Chad’s erection and lowering yourself on his cock under his watchful eyes.

He groaned as he felt your walls wrap around him, warm and snug. One of his hands trailed down the plane of your back, coming down to cup the flesh of your ass and thighs, grabbing at anything he could get. You raised your hips and slowly sunk back down, feeling so full.

You had fantasized about this moment before, alone in your bed. You had imagined how good Chad would feel inside you, how full he would make you feel. A mix of your fingers and your imagination had to be used to mimic the sensation — and even then, it didn’t compare to this.

Chad moved his hips involuntarily and you both moaned, the cowboy hat almost falling off when you tipped your head back. ‘’Shit, sorry. I didn’t—’’

You shook your head and told him to do it again.

A rush of pleasure shot through your body as you began to move your hips at a faster pace. The room quickly became a mess of panting, moanings, skin slapping and various other sounds.

One of Chad’s hands had glided to your clit and started to play with it, adding to your pleasure every time you were meeting his thrusts. You could feel your orgasm coming, spasming around his cock. Soon enough, a wave of intense pleasure flowed through your body, this time losing your hat as you threw your head back. 

Chad followed, joining you in your orgasm and filling the condom, his thighs clenching and fingers squeezing your cheek hard enough to leave marks. 

You took a minute to recover, both of you panting heavily on the bed.

‘’I don’t know much about rodeo, but cowboys lose points if their hat falls off,’’ Chad said, earning a hard slap on his chest.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny 

[josibunn]

backstage help.

getting the jitters out of euronymous before a gig :3 smut! obvi, some fluff,, hand job/mutual masturbation, public sex, p in v, quicky action, it gets a lil messy, you guys are so vocal so u gotta be quiet :P

tl: @vanlisbon @cc-luvr @monkeyfart1 @444rockstargf @bambi-horror @auggiethecreator

im getting on rq RIGHT NOW!! dont think i’ve forgotten I promise, hope this makes up for it :3 also after rq I have some new characters and some jack thurlow SHACKEDD up, its been a minute since ive written something slutty for him.

euronymous sighs through his nose as he rubs your hip, seeing as you were seated on his lap. he had half an hour before he went on to play a gig, and he was nervous. I mean, he was always nervous, but he got a glimpse of the crowd before he went on and choked.

“you’ll be great baby, you always are.” you say, dipping the paint brush back into the black paint. you were finishing his corpse paint, and you even did your own as support for him. “I know,” he mumbled. “did..you saw all those people though, right? there was a lot.” he looks up at you and you sigh softly, considering you weren’t done on his eyes.

“I did. and there’s always a lot of people, that’s why I tell you not to look.” it was kinda silly a guy like him, the leader of the band, was getting stage fright. “and what’d you do? close your eyes,” “I looked,” he rolls his eyes and closes them, “right. there’s always a lot of people baby you’ll be fine, you know that. you’ll do great.”

“you’re gonna watch, right?” “of course! I always do, and you can keep your eyes on me the whole time.” you smile, even though he doesn’t see it. “i’m gonna be in the front moaning your name, you think the security will carry me if I pass out?” you joke, and he busts out laughing, pushing you lightly.

you smile, hopefully this’ll get the jitters out. “and you better not look at those other chicken built bitches either,” you warn, finishing up on his lips. “I won’t baby, only you.” he holds the back of your neck, caressing you. he admired your face paint, “I love this. like, so fucking much. can you do it at our next one?” you giggle as he smiles at you.

“sure, i’ll think about it,” you put the paint on the ground, turning back to see him still smiling at you. “evil incarnate isn’t supposed to smile, don’t fuck up my hard work.” you joke and he laughs some more, “can’t help it, got this fuckin’ angel in front of me.” god, he’s so corny, but you laugh anyway as you shift to sit next to him now, legs crossed but his hand still on your thigh.

and oh you loved how he always had to touch you, especially when he was all jittery and nervous. it made you feel so special. “you have like..twenty minutes.” you remind him, and you hear him whimper. “I know. i’m fine, i’m fine,” he fixes his shirt, but you see in his eyes he’s still nervous.

“øystein you’re ok, they’re gonna love you. they wouldn’t all be lined up if they didn’t.” you rub his arms and tuck his hair behind his ears before giving him a light kiss. “right..ok. all here for me.” “all here for you,” you repeat softly. he kisses you again, and again, and again until you’re giggling against his lips.

“baby the makeup,” you giggle through kisses. “we can fix it it’s fine,” he says quickly in a breath, holding the back of your head under your hair. your kiss gets more heated, you’re holding onto each other and smearing all your corpse paint. he digs his fingers under your skirt straight to your pussy, cupping you and rubbing down your clothes folds, making you moan in his mouth.

“twenty..twenty minutes baby,” you whimper in a breath, gripping his shoulder. “we can do it,” he groans feeling your hand get into his pants quickly as you stand on your knees, giving him more space to get in your skin.

you pull him out, pumping his cock quickly as you two pull away and breath into each others mouth, stimulating each other with locked eyes, and you moan out when he pulls your underwear to the slide and slips two thick fingers inside you, eyes widening on his. “angel, yer’ fucking dripping, holy fuck,” he groans as he pumps his fingers deeper into your throbbing cunt.

you bite back your moans as you grind onto his fingers, stroking him faster. he wraps an arm around you and pulls you onto his lap and you gasp, already knowing where his mind was headed. “øystein, øystein you’re about to go out—” “you can do it baby, ok? ‘can do it,” your voices topple each others as he lowers you down on his length, silencing your moans by grabbing your face and shushing you.

“good girl, goood girl,” he eyes you as you throw your head back, moaning under his hand as he rocks you on his cock, his lashes fluttering as he nods, “that’s fuckin’ good, so fucking good,” he whispers, letting out a relaxed breath.

“gotta keep it down, ok?” he stammers as you roll your hips onto his that fuck into you, his now free hand gripping the top of the couch you guys were tainting. “feel so fucking good,” he plants his feet onto the floor as you hop on his dick, eyes glued to your soaking pussy that engulfed him so well, squelching sounds filling the room.

his eyes squeeze shut as he throws his head back, brows coming together as he lets out raspy groans, hand planted on the small of your back, guiding you ever so slightly. “needed this, god you’re so good baby,” he praises and you smile, wrapping your arms around him, your boobs pressed against his chest as you moan quietly in his ear.

“ride this dick baby, oh just like that,” he moans as you grab onto his hair, yanking it back as you reach your climax, his tip kissing that sweet spot you love so much. you moan out, eyes squeezing shut as you pull yourself closer to him, hugging his shoulders. he bites his lip as he pounds upwards into you, sensing your climax in the way you tighten around him.

“so fuckin’ tight, god s’like you were built for me,” he hugs your waist, keeping you steady. “gonna cum baby? hm? gonna make a me—” you cover his mouth, shoving his head back on the couch, and that alone could’ve sent him over.

“baby,” you moan weakly, opening an eye to look at him, “gotta be quiet, too. they’ll hear you..” you breath, ducking your head into his neck as your legs shake, moaning high. he nods over your hand, eyes rolling back, stomach dropping as he feels your pussy pound against him, wrapping both arms around you now and slowly rocking you through your orgasm.

you gasp and moan out, accidentally pushing him back as you climax, “o’my god, oh my go-ahm!” he covers your mouth again, your eyes widening as you moan under it, his dark, fogged out eyes soft yours, and now the only thing being heard is the wetness of our pussy and you twos muffled moans.

youre drooling your face paint onto his hand as you two cum together, quickly moving each others hands off and connecting lips passionately, again fucking up your hard work. you pull away and he chases your lips,

“you gotta go, gotta-gotta perform,” you heave, sliding off next to him and he tries to collect himself at the mention, nodding and mumbling. “was so good baby,” he huffs, rubuckling his pants. “think I gotta do that before each gig.” he chuckles, tucking his hair behind his ears, watching you sigh, legs still open and dripping with cum.

the door busts open. “euronymous! been shouting for you for-oh my fucking—” its hellhammer, and he shuts the door just as fast as he catches a glimpse at you and your disheveled state, and he groans from behind the door.

“you fuckin’ serious?! dude, you guys are sick! be ready in five minutes!” “you should’ve fucking knocked! dont rush me,” you grab him back down and fix his smeared face paint, “you feelin’ ok? still nervous?” you quickly go over where it was messed up, “uh uh, s’like you knock it right out of me, might just be my good luck charm.” you smile as he tries not to, humming.

“well if it helps you, we can do whatever you want. go out, be great ok?” you kiss him once more as you stand up with him, following him to the door and hopping on your underwear, cum still leaking.

“im’a be a amazin’ all for you,” he walks out and they all look at you two, and you didnt even fix your makeup, so you got the worst of it. but euronymous just waved his hand at the stares from his band mates and says a small “lets go.” making you smile as you walk your way off the where the crowd resides.

heheeeee I loved this one, love my boyfriend🤫 (hes not real) i love including hellhammer hes so cute😭hope u enjoyed!! mwah mwah mwah

[buckets-and-trees]

Peering In My Hollow Core

Fandom: MCU Title: Peering In My Hollow Core Characters/Pairings: Nomad!Steve x Morally Grey!Female Reader Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Even the best laid plans can go up in flames. You're both wrong, and yet also more right for each other than you know.

Content Warnings: explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT due to sex pollen, masturbation, rough fucking/vaginal sex, unprotected sex/ejaculation

Logistical Notes: I claimed prompt 13 for @lunarbuck's Star-Crossed Lovers Soulmate AU challenge and also knocking off I1 "masturbation" for @the-slumberparty's August/September Bingo challenge. And because you know I can't resist... it's also using one of the prompts (first bolded line) for @witchywithwhiskey's Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon! And it's answering an ask I got from one very mischievous @stargazingfangirl18 that's been on my mind for the last two weeks.

Additional Notes: @biteofcherry and @vonalyn let me suss out how this evolved, so thank you for enduring my brainstorming! Eva also gave a line of dialogue inspiration that I found too delicious not to snatch up, and so that's bolded for acknowledgement as well (near the end). Title from Scars by Basement Jaxx.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“What’s your grand plan here, Doc?” The golden-haired, bearded hulk of a man, America’s golden boy now a rogue in the shadows is pacing before you. “Are you even a doctor?”

His tone is biting, angry, and you don’t hold it against him.

He did fall right into your trap.

“You’re a smart boy, you can guess.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I think it will bruise your ego more if I spell it out for you.”

“You should have thought of my rage before you put yourself in this situation, Doc,” he all but growls, still prowling back and forth across the living room floor. “What’s your exit strategy here?”

“You’re getting more volatile and heated, that’s good. That’s what I need.”

“Do you think this is a fucking game? You’re on dangerous ground.”

Your lips curl up slightly, but you try not to smirk. “I dangled myself in front of you. Good Captain America couldn’t resist trying to liberate the poor scientist who got wrongfully entangled with the remnants of HYDRA. You never even stopped to consider that I was dangling myself out in the wind to get you here like this, and you’ve read enough about HYDRA, you know what I gave you.”

“But why?” he barks.

“No one can beat you for strength. You’re driven, resourceful, able to evade an attack. Your weakness is caring,” you pause because he stops his pacing, he looks ready to spring, but doesn’t yet. His eyes haven’t left you for even a moment since he realized it’s you he needed to worry about, not save. “I need your DNA, blood samples, bodily fluid, and I can’t trap you with anything, but I banked on the one physical vulnerability even a super soldier isn’t immune from: a compound they initially developed as something called a sex pollen. In fact, I think you know they tested it on a super soldier, don’t you?”

He slams his fist on the table between you two, and it splits from his actions.

You shouldn’t have provoked him with that. It wouldn’t yield the results you were trying to manipulate him into.

“Easy, Nomad,” you raise your hands cautiously to ease the tension just slightly. “That’s what they call you now – Nomad is the moniker now that you can’t be Captain America out there to the world anymore.” He flexes his fists, another angry reflex, but one you know speaks to a slight de-escalation, self-regulation. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t agree with everything HYDRA has done.”

He lets out a bitter laugh.

“I don’t,” you insist.

“If you’re not in with them, you’ve made a deal with a devil you’ve vastly underestimated.”

“They’re a means to an end.”

“How can you be so foolish to think that?”

“No one will fund my research at the rate and without regulatory oversight the way they do. They’re desperate to have more of you but under their thumb, especially since you’re at the root of them losing their prize assassin.”

“You’re not stupid, so why are you giving them what they want?”

You lift your chin defiantly.

Steve’s eyes narrow. “Oh god. You can’t tell me… Really? You think you’re gonna keep your research and development from them in the end?”

“Look at what I’ve done so far,” you gesture. “You’ve evaded every attempt they’ve made to get you, you’re evading all the countries who are supposed to enforce the accords and hand you over, and yet I have you trapped here.”

“Why do you care about a super soldier serum?” he asks.

You shrug. “I’m interested in a serum, but I don’t need super soldiers. The list of your medical ailments before you were injected, and then you’re instantly cured of everything? Do you know how many people need even a drop of what cured you?”

“And you think I’d be opposed to that?”

You scoffed, “Yeah, easily. Once the research exists, it will get applied for things it was never intended to be used for, up to and including developing super soldiers for HYDRA and people who pretend they’re better than HYDRA.”

“So, who has made you this desperate?”

“You don’t get to know that.”

He scoffs now. “You don’t get to set the terms here if you intend to get what you want.”

“Don’t I? You’re uncomfortable. You’ve been uncomfortable for a while. It’s going to get worse, but I adapted the formula for what I gave you in that drink of water. All you have to do is ejaculate, and the toxin will abate from your system.”

“How thoughtful of you,” he deadpans.

Then his demeanor changes. He sniffs, and his eyes finally stray from you.

“You said this house is reinforced in its lockdown to keep me in until you initiate and secure your extraction with the HYDRA team?”

“Yes,” you answer slowly, trying to follow his line of sight and decipher what he’s looking at.

“I think you’re going to need to adjust your plans and priorities and do it quickly.”

You open your mouth to ask why, but then your mind quickly makes the leap. “They modified my ventilation system.”

“HYDRA has refused to be eliminated for decades. They can wait for a purebred super soldier and think they can get one in your womb today.”

The heat of humiliation floods your body. How could you have been so foolish not to account for a maneuver like this. They had clearly approved of your strategy too easily.

“Soon you won’t be able to think about anything more than my cock in your cunt, so you better start thinking of how you’re going to get yourself out of this, Doc, because Nomad is not who everyone knew Captain America to be, and I’m certainly not inclined to assist you in any way now. Been doing fine evading capture as you yourself asserted, I can probably figure out my own exit strategy here and fight off the sex pollen until I make it out. But for someone without any biological enhancements… I’m not optimistic over your odds. I read everything on HYDRA. This stuff was nasty when they first developed it, but you can bet they will have reverse engineered whatever you did to the formula to make it even worse.”

As if on cue, you start to feel the physical effects of whatever nearly imperceptible airborne toxin – imperceptible to you, but apparently not to enhanced individuals. Heat flares again in your body, but this time it is a pulsating sexual need.

You close your eyes to try and keep your breath steady and even, but after another moment, you whimper and draw your hands to your stomach as the poisonous desire pulses more strongly, the tremor of need undeniable.

Your eyes burst open again, seeking out the male across the room from you.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, no. I’m not giving you anything you want. If you’re as brilliant as you think you are, you don’t need me to get out of your unfortunate predicament.”

Your body is yearning for him, but you know he’s serious.

You also know he’s right; you need to think fast.

You’re coherent enough to get both of you out of the lockdown state of the house now – because HYDRA was clearly going to come for both of your – you had a failsafe to get out in case there was some loss of electrical power. But could you get away in this state?

And you know if you get out, you’ll never get the DNA you need from Steve Rogers – you’ll never be close enough to or even see him again. You know that in your bones.

Over the next hour, at different points during the feverish state that overtakes you, you can sometimes hear the super soldier nearby, doing things around your home, undoubtedly trying to apply his own ingenuity.

He might be successful.

It hardly matters.

Now you’re in the shower, under a stream of cold water, trying both to alleviate the unbearable heat your body has peaked to and to hide the sound of your sobs as best you can. You’ve stripped down to a nearly naked state. You ripped off your shirt and pants in your room, left them on the floor, your panties are on the tiled floor outside the shower, but you couldn’t spare your hands to remove your bra. At first you were almost experiencing a sliver of relief with one hand between your legs, paying every attention to your excessively slick folds and throbbing clit, thrusting your fingers in and out of your cunt as well, but it was a false grasp at hope.

You don’t know when you slid down the tiled wall of the wet glass tomb where you think you may die, curled in on yourself, one hand still trying pointlessly to trigger the orgasm that will flush the desperate physical pain from your body, surely it must come.

You don’t know how long he’s been standing in the doorway of the bathroom before you try to shift pathetically, your eyes open, and you see him slowly stroking his hard cock, watching you. You shut your eyes again, in agony wondering how he can possibly seem so collected. Why isn’t he pumping his fist in a frenzy? You couldn’t stroke your clit fast enough, and now you can’t bear to touch it, but the heel of your hand can’t help bumping it as you try to fuck yourself on your fingers.

Then a rush of air blasts over your body.

You open your eyes weakly to see Steve reach to shut off the water, before he bends down and without a word grabs your limp body from the floor, drapes you over his arm, where you hand limply, bent in half, and he hauls you back to your room, and throws you on the bed.

You continue to cry and stroke yourself while you hear him unzip and unfasten, your body a trembling heap, facing away from him as he’s undressing.

“I’m going to fuck you, and then you’re going to let me out before HYDRA comes for both of us. You’re fucking clever and I can’t get out of here without you.”

You whimper when you feel his weight on the bed behind you.

He forces you into a kneeling position, but he doesn’t care that you can’t even prop yourself up, head and shoulders slumped down on the mattress, ass in the air. His left hand grips your hip, and he groans as he guides the head of his cock up and down the slit of your dripping cunt before he finally slides in. It’s deliberate, sliding down to the base, his hips pushing into yours. The way he invades and stretches you is painful, and yet you need it, keening at the fullness.

You do catch that his breathing hitches.

He needs this, too.

You’ll give it to him if he’ll just put your body out of its misery.

After a moment of slowly rutting against you, only shifting his girth inside of you a bit, teasing, perhaps warning, you whine, “move, please, more.”

“More than you bargained for,” he growls, then pulls back, and then thrusts back into you, adopting a brutal pace, both hands anchored at your hips now, slamming you back and forth roughly.

He pulls a first orgasm from your body quickly, but the second comes not long after when he reaches around to pinch and roll your clit between his fingers, still using your pussy for chasing his pleasure.

A third, and you’ve gone from whimpers and keens to crying out and a fresh wave of tears. This is rough and you’re over stimulated, and he knows. He leans over your back to smirk against your neck.

“Please,” you cry. You don’t know if you’re begging for more or for less because your body is screaming in exhaustion, but the fire is still tormenting your veins.

Because you haven’t been filled.

The smirk turns to a sneer against your neck, and Steve snarls, "You wanted it. You staged it. So, you're going to take it and keep fucking taking it until I'm done with your pathetic fragile body."

He’s pressing into places you’ve never felt before, and you cry out more, face pressed into the sheets. He pushes back up and pulls his cock out of you. His fingers work the clasp of your bra, and he pulls it off while he flips you over so you’re on your back. You can’t even open your eyes, but you feel him looming above you, kneeling between your splayed out thighs.

But then you feel something shift. He mutters a curse and is suddenly still.

You open your eyes and look up at him, but he’s looking at your chest. His hand moves up to trace his fingers over a scar near your collarbone. You look and see the same scar evident on his chest.

You reach up and your fingers quest along his bicep, and they do find a scar there, very faint but long, matching one you’ve had nearly your entire life.

Your eyes lock on each other now, and the acknowledgement there between you is terrifying.

There are more scars, but you don’t need to continue to confirm what you know.

You’re soulmates.

You’ve betrayed him before you even knew.

You’re still beholden to the drive of the sex pollen, boneless and exhausted, but this revelation drives with adrenaline through the haze, too hard to deny. It gives you enough to say, “We can’t deal with this now if we want to get out of here with a chance to escape HYDRA, fuck me and end this.”

He does, but he can’t look at you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, and spears you with his cock. The fucking is rough, and you take it. It’s punishing penance and painful pleasure. You cling to him as he thrusts you over the cliff of ecstasy again, coming with you finally, and his spend pumps hotly into you. The physical relief from the torture is blessedly immediate. His hand ghosts over your lower abdomen where he’s just planted his seed. With his eyes closed, he touches his forehead to yours, then pushes roughly away and rolls off of you.

“Get up, get dressed, pack light,” he says, stone cold. “Between us we might get out of this dangerous trap. That’s all we need for now.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[bby-bo]

When the Boss Comes Knocking pt. 2

the love on part one has been so wild ❤️ thank you guys sm for reading, I hope this drags you on an even wilder emotional rollercoaster than last time 🤠🤠

I sure as fuck have no proper explanation for my actions here, brace yourselves.

Summary: Sakusa knows he screwed up, but he’s quick to get on his knees to work for your forgiveness.

Warnings: solid combo of angst, fluff, and smut, reader is all over the place, Sakusa eating p*ssy 🫶🏼

“Always Yours, Kiyoomi”

The note had sat on your desk for 3 days, staring you down with the heat of hell tucked into the ink scratched on the paper.  It was Friday, the day the Sakusa Group was to officially purchase the small publishing house you wrote for, but the man himself had yet to show up since your last encounter.  

3 painfully slow days of no contact or sign of Sakusa had felt like 3 years, and you couldn’t help but feel angry. Angry that he thought he could come back into your life at his own convenience, with no explanation of his leaving for so long. Upset that you wanted him to come back. Pissed at yourself for letting him treat you like this. 

The back and forth in your own brain was clouded by the memories of him, one hand on your throat and one in your hair, pulling you in. The look of satisfaction on his face when you finally called him by his first name again. The sweet bliss of his deep voice directed at you. It was inescapable even on your morning commute to work. 

Opening the door to the lobby, you greeted Josie as always. 

“Morning Josie”

“Oh good morning! There was a message left for you, actually. Mr. Sakusa’s secretary called and mentioned setting up a lunch meeting today around 1 pm.” 

Surprise and irritation shot through the fog in your brain. He couldn’t even call you himself?? His behavior was getting ridiculous, and at this point you were going to completely miss the next 4 deadlines for the book you were working on if this distraction kept up.

“What?! Don’t respond please, I’ll just eat lunch here like usual” A guilty blush immediately spread across her face and you just dreaded whatever she was about to say.

“Um… I already scheduled it. Sorry! It felt like maybe you guys got along last time since you spoke for so long in your office and I thought maybe it would be a good idea to-”

“What??? Josie NO!” Complete horror washed across you like an ice bath, and you immediately realized that you were not dressed for a CEO level lunch date. 

“I’m sorry to spring it on you like this. But hey, at least he’s sending a car to bring you, right?” She finished her sentence with a bright smile, totally not understanding why this was the absolute worst thing in the world. 

You gave her a fake laugh and a smile, trying not to be too mean to her in your mind before heading straight into your office and slumping into the seat. 

“Always Yours, Kiyoomi”

The note stared back at you, and you narrowed your eyes at his name. Fuck. Off. Sakusa. If he wanted to play this game, you certainly weren’t going to make it easy on him. 

You had no time to let the regrets from your last encounter stew when time was not on your side today.  Stealing your nerves, you got to thinking of all the things you’ve been wanting to say to him, all the things you’ve been dying to ask.  But time raced against you, and when Josie knocked on your office door it felt as though no time had passed at all. You were still just as nervous as before, but an unfamiliar man in a suit followed behind Josie, ready to take you to your demise- a.k.a the Sakusa Group headquarters. 

It was 45 steps from your office to the car, 30 minutes in the car between offices, and now only 10 steps from the car into the massive lobby of the tower where the beast resided.  Someone greeted you straight away, and escorted you all the way to Sakusa’s door.

Shit. Shitshitshitshit. Your mind and heart were racing, but you took in a deep breath and reminded yourself to resist his efforts to win you over. Yea right, resist the irresistible. Great plan.

The door opened, and there he was. Goddamn this was going to be more difficult than you thought. 

Sakusa’s deep voice rang out, smooth and rich like dark chocolate. His usual black button down and slacks made him the picture of all your work romance fantasies- not that you were thinking of anything like that. Certainly not.

“Thank you George, you may go.” Your escort bowed in respect, and closed the door on his way out. Sakusa said nothing, just smirked as he stood and walked toward the door, and locked it. 

You stood frozen, feeling the heat of his chest warming your back. A large hand brushed your hair away from your face on one side, exposing your neck as Sakusa planted a soft kiss beneath the corner of your jaw, letting his breath tickle over your skin. You could just feel the smirk widening across his face. But as much as your knees were already growing weak, your anger refused to be forgotten this time. 

Your figure’s sharp turn cut his growing smile off into a small frown, those dark brows furrowing slightly.

“Stop that. You owe me an explanation and I won’t let you near me until I get it.” Your voice was shaky, but you got your words out clearly. 

Sakusa just closed the space between you again, towering over you with slight irritation on his face. This was obviously not how he expected this meeting to go. 

“What is with these horrible greetings each time we meet? I’ll teach you this lesson as many times as I need to-”

“YOU were the one who told me not to call you Kiyoomi all those years ago, so don’t gimme that bullshit!! You don’t get to break up with me, be a total dick during our last conversation, disappear with no contact then return into my life like nothing happened years later! There is absolutely no way I can accept anything you offer me when you have completely shattered the very foundation of our relationship, Sakusa!”

The pent up energy, anxiety and ire that had slowly been collecting in your heart and mind this week was at its boiling point, finally spilling over as angry tears gathered in your eyes, your finger jabbing into his chest. 

His demeanor changed entirely as he listened to your rant, and a serious look crept over his face, but he made no move to interrupt you. Even now, when you were so worked up that you couldn’t see straight, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to push him away or wanted to cry into his arms. He let you finish before speaking. 

“So this is how you’ve been feeling. Come here, sweetheart.” 

Simple acknowledgement was all it took for your tears to fall, and strong arms gave you comfort as he tucked your head beneath his chin. His fingers stroked your hair, and that damn cologne filled your senses as you tried to contain your emotions.

He brought his palms to your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the salty tears beneath your eyes as his gaze softened into something you’ve missed so desperately since high school. His tone was serious but gentle as he spoke his next words.

“I know you’re angry, yes?” You nodded aggressively, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I hear you. I want you to look at me sweetheart, tell me how I can make it up to you. What can I do to fix this?” 

“I don’t know if this can be fixed Sakusa, I thought you just walked off and forgot about me after high school and I-”

“You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“If I’m wrong then prove it! Some explanation, anything is better than the nothing you left me with!”

Sakusa let out a heavy sign before pushing his hands into the roots of your hair, and kissing your forehead. He took your hand, fingers intertwined with yours as you swiped at the last of your tears. 

“It doesn’t excuse the way that I’ve treated you, and I sure as fuck am not proud of it but I can give you an explanation. Let’s sit while we talk, yeah?”

You followed him into a connecting room, a dining room of sorts, complete with cushioned seats and a glass coffee table. Sakusa settled in a seat next to yours and turned to set his serious gaze on you, so you might understand his sincerity.

His chest expanded as he took a deep breath, and released it slow.

“My family has always been demanding, and I knew their wish for me was to take over the Sakusa Group as early as possible. But I was young and dumb, and I didn’t have the confidence that I could actually do it. I know it’s no excuse for leaving you like that, but I was scared to fail. Disappointing you was something I couldn’t handle, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could become someone worthy of taking care of you one day. So I made sure to cut ties and cut them sharp so that if I did fail, you would hopefully never find out.”

This… this was not what you expected. Had he always been so concerned with your judgment of him? Why did he not let you support him? You had every confidence in your Kiyoomi back then, and you had always tried your best to show that, so why..? Did you not tell him enough? How could you ever possibly be disappointed in him?

“I didn’t forget what I said to you back then. I’m sorry I was so selfish, sweetheart.”

Tears threatened to spill over again, and you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. There was a soft shuffling sound and the scraping of a chair across the hardwood, and when Sakusa tugged your wrists from your face he was kneeling before you. Still tall enough on his knees to be nearly eye level with you. 

“Don’t cry baby, look at me.” His fingers tucked beneath your chin, raising your head slightly. 

“Tell me what I wanna hear. Come on love” You knew what he wanted immediately. 

“Kiyoomi” Your voice was just above a whisper, but enough understanding was translated in that one word. Not quite forgiveness, but understanding. 

This had always been a thing between you two, even in high school. When first names were used after an argument, you could both recognize that things were back on the right path. So it wasn’t quite forgiveness, but it was a step. 

“Again.” But he was still just as greedy as ever. Gripping your chin a bit tighter, he brought his face right up to your neck and softly nipped at the skin on your jaw, tongue laving over the skin to sooth it.

“Kiyoomi”

“That’s my girl. Now, how should I make it up to you, hm?” His hands gripped your thighs just above your knees, squeezing into the flesh.

The tone of his voice switched, dripping with honey and saturating your mind with memories of twisted sheets and bated breaths. 

“I think I know just where to start” Shit, that voice. You were sure it would be the death of you one day, but right now, it was your lifeline. 

One of his thumbs hooked under the hem of your dress, baring one thigh ever so slowly, as his other hand guided your fingers into his hair. His gaze held yours as he began to kiss and bite a trail upwards following the exposed skin. 

If there was one thing your romance readers raved about, it was the smut that some of your books contained. But you could hardly claim any credit when your inspiration for those scenes came from Kiyoomi. The Kiyoomi who loved seeing you flustered and blushing beneath him, hand around your throat and embarrassment crawling up your cheeks. Loved seeing tears of overstimulation roll down so he could lick them away. That was this Kiyoomi, the one that knelt before you now.  

A hard bite on the inside of your thigh brought you back down to earth, a yelp of surprise escaping as your eyes snapped open.

“Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me.” You nodded as you tried to catch your breath, small bits of air coming out in light pants. 

Pushing your dress all the way around your waist, Kiyoomi gripped your ass roughly with both hands and tugged your body to the edge of your seat, legs thrown over his broad shoulders. His eyes closed as he turned to bury his face into the thickness of one of your thighs, fingers dipping into the waistline of your panties. He watched completely enamored as he pulled them off your body, the evident wet spot sticking to the source of your arousal. 

In one quick movement, he sat back on his heels and rid you of your panties entirely before settling back in on his knees. Two thick fingers swiped at your slit, gathering the stickiness there and bringing it to your mouth. 

“Open.” You did as he asked without hesitation, and you could taste the saltiness on the pads of his fingers as he pressed down on your tongue. But you knew better than to wrap your lips around his fingers- knew to wait for instruction. His smirk returned in full as he realized you hadn’t forgotten his rules.

“Suck.” 

His grip around your thigh tightened as you obeyed. Taking his fingers from your mouth, he pressed them back at your entrance, teasing you up and down as he finally, finally, brought his mouth to your clit. His tongue circled the nerves as he watched your eyes roll back, your mouth open just slightly. 

Now Kiyoomi was never a religious man, but he would’ve prayed to any god to never forget this sight. Legs open for him, pretty face silently begging him to touch you. He wanted it permanently imprinted in his memory, wanted it to be the only thing he saw every time he closed his eyes. His control snapped.

Fingers plunged forward into you and Kiyoomi was lost in your tight heat as he set a quick pace, teeth tugging lightly on your clit before circling it with his tongue over and over again. He still knew your body so well even after so much time had passed, and he knew exactly how to drive you over the edge. 

“O-omi” 

“Hm?” He refused to pull his face away from your sweet pussy, humming against you in response, sending light vibrations that tickled up your spine.

“G-gonna cum Omi” His fingers curled upward and hit that spongy spot, as he pulled his mouth away for just a moment to respond. He pressed a thick forearm down across your hips, not letting you escape.

“Go on baby, cum in my mouth. Wanna taste you” 

Kiyoomi shoved his tongue inside you, nose buried right up against that sensitive bundle of nerves as he reached up to fill your mouth with the fingers that had previously been fucking in and out of you. His other fingers gripped your jaw roughly as he pressed down on your tongue, sliding them further and further back into your wet mouth. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, doing your best to take what he gave you without gagging.

The release that spread over you had you crying out around his fingers, legs shuddering on his shoulders as his forearm held you in place, never pulling his tongue from you until he was satisfied he had tasted every drop. 

But he only allowed you a moment to catch your breath.

Kiyoomi tugged your whole body straight off the chair, pulling your thighs to sit over his where he knelt.  He secured his arms around you and slotted his mouth against your lips, tongue slipping against yours to let you taste yourself on him. Crushing you against his chest, he let out a low groan and let a large palm tangle into your hair, tugging it slightly. 

“Always been Omi’s favorite girl, you know that? Missed you so much sweetheart. Promise I won’t leave you again. Ever. And I’m so sorry I upset you my love” 

And as he pressed his forehead against yours, you realized the signature on his note had always been true, more so than you realized. 

“Always Yours, Kiyoomi”

[guessm0del]

Little Red Riding Hood

Chapter Four: Reckoning Day

Summary: Living a life of caution for as long as she can remember, Y/N has never stayed too long in one place, always moving from town to town in hopes to hide her identity. With the Hunters Moon coming, she knows she must be extra careful, as the local culture resides heavily in the hunting of her kind. One night, when a cloaked figure unveils her secret and narrowly escapes, Y/N finds herself in a desperate situation: kill or be killed. With no face to go by, she must now search through the townsfolk before the stranger can spread the truth about her. But the task proves more than difficult when she realises her only lead is a long, crimson cloak.

Genre: horror, fantasy, little red riding hood retelling

Warnings:cursing, stalking, death, heavy smut (in later chapters)

Pairing: redridinghood!Jungwon x femwolf!reader

chapter one here

chapter two here

chapter three here

The trek through the forest is long, awkward, and incredibly quiet.

Jungwon trails behind me now, walking at a hesitant pace to ensure there’s enough distance between us.

He hasn’t said anything since we left Mary’s cottage, but then again, neither have I.

Stopping in the middle of the forests path, I wait for Jungwon to catch up to me. Just as quickly, however, he comes to a stop too, taking a step backward. “Is there something wrong?” His soft voice is soft and calm, or at least that’s how he wants it to sound. I can hear it brimming with fear.

“My dress…” I pout, pointing to the taut fabric stuck to a tree, “its caught on a branch.”

I hear him suck in a breath.

I don’t have to be telepathic to know he’s contemplating how to escape this. He’s afraid of me. And I intend to find out why.

Despite my obvious impatience, he makes no move to come closer. “Have you tried tugging it?” His voice is gentle, as though not to test my patience further.

“Twice, but it just won’t budge…” I muster the most helpless face possible and plaster it against my skin.

He’s calculating his options. He knows I’m close to Mary. He also knows I will relay all his actions to her when and if she should ask.

If Mary were to find out that her grandson refused to help her dear sweet Y/N, she’d make his stay in Avion a living hell.

He grimaces, slowly moving forward and kneeling before me. Gently manoeuvring the fabric away from the branch, he carefully tugs at the loose fragments so they don’t rip. I peer down at him, catching the way his jaw clenches in determination.

If he is who I think he is, I’m going to have to play at this very carefully. Helena and I didn’t just spend an entire year planning a siege on Avion just for it to be spoiled by a boy. Besides, it wouldn’t work if I killed him now. While Mary would likely take my side, I have no doubt the Council will point their stubby fingers to me. Not to mention, if I kill him now, everyone will know I was the last person he was seen with.

Helena’s words echo through my ears.

All good things come to those who wait.

She’s right, as always.

If I want this boy dead, I’m going to have to play chess with him first. And the first step is to move his piece as close to mine as possible so that when he gets there, I’ll be able to lean over and snap his neck.

————————-

We make it to the town pathway and bid our farewells, parting ways in the opposite directions. The walk was quick and silent, as expected.

After the incident with the branch, I didn’t initiate any further conversation. It wasn’t like there was really any point, anyway. Every time I tried to, he’d give brief, quiet answers.

I make it to the Avion welcome post and turn back to watch him walk away. I study his figure, comparing it with a memory of a red cloak running away into the forest. Jungwon has a similar build, but then again, so do most young Avion men. Lean, tall with broad shoulders. It could’ve been anyone.

Yes, I shouldn’t be so quick to make assumptions. I need something more solid. Something clearer.

But it’s no use. The strangers face was covered during our tumble, and I can’t go by his voice as he never actually spoke. My memories can’t disclose any detailed traits, only the image of a long, dark red cloak descending into the darkness remains.

Casting one last glance back to him, I turn around to resume my journey.

A fleeting memory evades my mind and I whirl back around.

His leg.

I threw a heavy rock at him during our tumble, which by any measure, would’ve given him a noticeable limp. If it really is him, his leg will give him away for sure.

But it’s too late, Jungwon is long gone, his figure completely swallowed by the darkness of the forest.

I contemplate running after him, but it’s no use. The last thing I need is for him to know I’m onto him. It’s not like his leg can heal itself overnight.

Helena’s voice rings through my head once more.

All good things come to those who wait.

Yes.

I’ll check tomorrow.

——————————————

Roaming through endless stretches of darkness, I come to a stop as I notice something out of place. It takes me a good five minutes to realise I’m lost. You’d think such a thing to be impossible, considering werewolves simply don’t get lost. The forest is both their home and hunting ground, not to mention, I’ve hunted in these woods every night for almost a year.

Hiding under the stark shadows of the moon, a grand chapel stands proud against the quiet blur of forest, its walls painted with breathtaking swirls of gold and white.

I eye the barren gates blocking my view.

Hmmm.

I know the dark forest better than the back of my hand. The curve of every leaf, the song of every house sparrow, the whisper of every hallowed tree hidden beneath the southern sky. I would’ve noticed a grand fixture like this if I’d seen it.

You definitely weren’t here before, were you?

But, no. The trees, the shade of ebony green flooding through the forest, it’s too…..unfamiliar.

I come to the realisation that this isn’t the Dark Forest at all, but somewhere else entirely different.

Maybe I’ve gone mad…

I shrug at the thought and move forward. The gates open silently as I pass through, standing firm as I come to a stop before the chapels smooth marble steps.

Unlike the entrance, however, the grand doors make no move to welcome me inside.

Cocking my head to the side, I lift a hand to the smooth white surface, giving three firm knocks.

No response.

I sigh, turning to retreat.

They can probably sense my dark magic through the doors. It’s clear I’m not welcome in such a holy place.

Before I can turn away, a thrum of noise echoes from the other side.

Without warning, the right door creaks open, defying its twin, who stays stubbornly stuck in place as I pass through.

The interior is enormous, boasting a grand sea of pews that face a massive podium. It’s windows shower a heavenly glow from the outside world onto its empty seats.

I stop in my tracks, glancing back to the grand doors from which I came.

They’re shut solid.

Huh….

I could’ve sworn it was night time.

I turn back to the windows. Observing the harsh stretch of white oblivion behind them, I come to the sensible conclusion that I have indeed gone mad.

This place is filled with magic.

Magic has been banned from Avion since the Dark Ages.

Yes, I’m not in Avion at all, rather somewhere else entirely.

Small echoes of church choir embrace me from every corner as all thoughts of realism slip between my fingertips like sand.

I look around, expecting to find a hoard of quire children singing their hearts out, but the chapel remains empty.

Well, almost.

In the distance, I spot a figure sitting alone in the first row of pews. His back faces me as his fingers clasp desperately together in prayer, hands held high above his head. He’s too far away to call out to, so I go to step closer, only for a soft voice to stop me.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I whip my head around, fingers dancing across the hilt of my dagger with caution.

A tall young man stands at my side, admiring a large mural hanging high on the wall before him. I observe his long robes, taking careful notice of the golden silk adorning his cuffs.

A Priests cuffs.

Naturally, my gaze lifts to look upon his face, only to choke on my own breath as I realise he doesn’t have one.

That’s it, I’ve officially gone mad.

Face covered by a cloud of beige blur, the stranger stands patiently to the side as he waits for my response. It’s nearly impossible to see what he looks like.

“Beautiful?” I glance to the giant engraving of Christ before us, cocking my head to the side as I inspect its infinite detail. The carving depicts a heart wrenching image of Jesus hanging limp against the cross, his features scrunched in agony as onlookers watch his suffering from afar, unmoving from their posts.

I glance over to him, cocking a small grin. “A Priest who delights in the suffering of Christ? I can’t say I’ve met one until now.” Though I can’t be sure, I feel his smile widen at my remark.

“I’m no Priest, though I’m flattered you think so. And it isn’t Christ’s suffering I find beautiful, but rather his sacrifice.” His voice remains calm, a beacon of gentle reprieve.

Stopping in brief intervals to observe the artistry of each portrait, I hear him follow behind me as we trail down the hall, coming to a large portrait of gods greatest disciples standing atop a grand table. For a fleeting moment, I allow myself to admire them in all their glory, that is, until I realise they’re cowering above the table as a group of atheists throw food at them from below.

Why would a painting like this be allowed in here?

“What sacrifice?” I laugh, nodding my head back towards the last mural. “The one where he ties himself to a wooden post and lets people stab at him?”

He laughs, his voice a soft, song like noise that feels sinful to listen to. “You don’t believe his suffering to be honourable?”

I shrug, turning my head to the side. “A noble sacrifice, I’m sure.” My eyes dance along the carved lines, tracing the fervent colours that connect the faithful. “But a pointless one all the same.”

I hear him scoff beside me. “How so?” I glance across, scanning the blurry haze that clouds his face. “Please,” he laughs in derision, motioning a hand towards the painting, “indulge me, little bird.” I can’t help but cringe at the nickname.

Without thinking, my hand reaches up towards the engraving, letting my lips explain the difference between reality and blind faith. “Most believe God sacrificed his sons life to teach us a lesson,” my fingertips trace the carved lines as I continue, “to eradicate the temptation to sin, by showing us that his very weak, very mortal son would live a life without sin, only to die for the price of ours. An honourable contribution and yet, look at them.” I motion to the carved audience watching Christ’s suffering from afar, whose faces stain with worry and fear. Among the carved crowd, my fingers find that of a mother clutching her young son as they watch on in horror.

They, much like the rest of those watching, make no move to release Christ from his restraints. Some faithful indeed.

I turn to face him now, staring into a hidden face with features I can’t quite make out, “Such a noble sacrifice, and for what? The mortals Christ died for? They don’t care. They may hang crosses above their dinner tables and dress for church every Sunday, but their blood boils with sin. It is the very beat of our hearts between each breath that condemns us.“ I pause and lift my head high, reciting the verse my mother used to drill into me as a child, “It’s as the judgement reads, ‘we are all sinners, though some of us are far better at hiding it than others.’”

The stranger makes no move to argue with my reason. Instead, he remains silent, and though I can’t quite see, I’m certain I feel his gaze burning straight through me. “And I suppose you would consider yourself such a person?” He asks softly, as though he’s sure of my answer.

I laugh and shake my head. “I used to be. But I’m afraid a rather…..” I pause, briefly hesitating as I trace the outline of an edge, “unfortunate shortcoming has exposed a sin of mine.” My fingertip gets caught on a jagged edge, and I watch in silence as it slices through taut skin with ease.

Small drops of blood fall to the floor.

“I suppose I’m not as good at hiding my flaws as I thought.” I murmur that last part, unsure if I even meant for him to hear.

The young man steps closer, stopping just short of contact, watching, waiting, searching for something. At this proximity, I can almost make out the soft glaze of ebony eyes. Its clear he wants to ask me something, though it seems he already knows the answer. While the small distance makes me feel uneasy, I don’t turn away, opting to neglect my emotions as he involuntarily unveils them.

Anything.

His eyes nearly plead the word, as though he wants me to confess something to him. After a long moment, he realises that’s not going to happen and turns away.

He motions to a mural on our right. I follow his hand, expecting to find another glorified portrait of Christ, but no, this one’s not quite like the others at all.

Its canvas spews a swirl of fiery reds across its surface, painting a picture of terrified mortals falling into a pit of hellfire from above. I look down to its description plaque. Its design is different from the rest, with four short words etched against a small, non descriptive plate of metal.

The Day of Reckoning, it reads.

Unlike the rest, it bears no mention of a deeper meaning. No hidden message behind the portrait, only a simple title as though it was painted by a seer itself.

“Dishonesty is the quickest path to evil. You’ll do well to remember that, little bird.” I laugh at the nickname now, watching in silence as he lifts a hand out to graze his fingertips against the canvas. “They had sins too.” He sighs. “And like you, they chose to keep them secret from their forefathers.” He motions to the boiling pit of hellfire. “It’s a known fact that all sinners go to hell, but there’s a special place in hell for those who try and keep those sins secret.” I can’t see his eyes but I can tell he’s staring straight through my soul.

Before I can respond, he turns his back on me and resumes his stroll down the hall. He doesn’t look back as he calls out. “The day of reckoning will come, little bird. First, with your confession,” I watch in silence as he descends into the darkness of the Abbey, hands held firm behind his back, “and then with mine.”

Confusions flies through every crevice of my head as I try to comprehend his word. His confession? I try to call out, to shout for him to come back and answer the riddles and questions that are eating at my brain, but it’s too late, the young priest-or-not priest, is long gone.

I twirl around, eager to find anyone, anything that could give me answers. My eyes scan the endless sea of pews for the lone figure I spotted a few moments ago, but it seems he too, is long gone.

The church quire still echoes in the distance, but the chapel is truly empty now. My only company is the tall shadow attached to my feet.

I hear small drops of water fall from a leaky faucet nearby. Turning ever so slowly, I come to face a stone well that sits in the centre of the Abbey.

What in the seven hells…..

What is a waterhole doing in a church….?

Without giving my mind the right patience to answer, my feet creep forward, eyes itching with the need to see what lays inside. I nearly gasp aloud when I come to its stone edge.

Instead of water, I’m greeted with an endless stretch of oblivion that seems to descend on forever. Maybe it has water at the end, it might just be too far down for me to see.

A thought spears at my mind and my blood runs cold with dread.

Maybe it doesn’t have an end.

Curiosity gets the better of me as I grip one hand to the stone corner and lean over, squinting against the pitch black.

Still, I see no sign of an end to the well. It simply goes on and on, and I wonder, for real this time, where I truly am.

Before my mind can spiral a thousand different theories, a cold hand attaches itself to the small of my back and pushes me in.

I let out a panicked gasp and reach out for a pillar or a slab of stone I can grab onto, but it’s too late, I’m already falling down, down, down until there’s no more down to fall.

Before I plummet into the last depth of darkness, I whip my head to the cloaked figure that pushed me in, forcing my eyes to adjust to the darkness as the figure watches me from the top of the well. Face concealed by the shadow of his hood, the stranger turns to retreat, leaving a small corner of his red cloak to flap behind him before he disappears completely out of sight.

I force my drooping eyes open, denying them the reprieve of sleep as they try to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.

A red cloak.

My breath catches in my throat, and I question my sanity as I fall further down the well.

Wait, or was it orange? Maybe an amber beige?

But the colour of the cloak is no matter now, for my eyes are much too tired and my bones much too sore. I feel the bottom of the well nearing and briefly ponder the thought of death.

I’ve heard stories that when one dies they experience a slow peace that floods them from all sides. All the beautiful memories of their life flash before their eyes in slow motion.

Where is this the peace they speak of?

Why isn’t everything in slow motion? Why instead, am I falling ridiculously fast to my death?

Is this what it’s really like? A tumbling, torturous rotation of fear? A well with no end? A faceless figure?

I hear the echo of my screams ricochet off the bottom of the well, and when I glance behind me I realise I was right.

There is water after all.

An endless, black pit of it.

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Authors Note:

…..I have no words for how sorry I am at how long it took me to write this……..

…..really, no words…..🥲🔫

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