#Wicked Sensation

[sadhours]

Wicked Sensation

part nineteen // billy hargrove x f!reader

find all chapters here

a/n: this is the end of the road :( next chapter is the last one. thank you all so much for reading!! I’ll be working to start up another series.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dirty sex like literally, p in v, neil but he’s not being the worst?!

tag list: @blue-eyed-lion @bbyhargrove @sweet-villain @actuallyspencerreid @trapistani @sierrahhh @likeanimagepassingby2

Billy has had what feels like the longest shift of his life. Twelve grueling hours of being under searingly hot engines. He’s learning a lot and earning even more but he sincerely fucking hates these long days. However, he’s offering to stay late more days than not. He’d saved up enough for a place but once you’d mentioned how you wanted a honeymoon, Billy took it upon himself to make that a reality. His bank account was looking nice meanwhile yours was draining almost as soon as you got paid. He wasn’t upset though, you were buying baby stuff and even though both he and Mary suggested you wait until after the baby shower to start buying stuff, he liked the excited look on your face as you showed him all the things you’d bought.

It’s late when he walks through the front door. You’re seated at the kitchen table, flipping through wedding magazines Mary brought home for you. The clock on the stove tells him it’s almost nine and the look on his face tells you the day he’s had. He’s covered in sweat and grease, his curls barely have any bounce to them as they stick to his neck and forehead and his eyes look exhausted. For some reason, the sight of him like this sets you aflame. You feel yourself getting very wet. And Billy can read you like an open book because he gives you a pointed look.

“I need to shower first,” he tells you seriously but his lips curl up as disappointment twists your features. “What? You want me to fuck you like this? All covered in fucking oil and god knows what else.”

You nod up at him, “You look so sexy.”

He shakes his head but steps closer to press his lips to yours. You deepen it instantly, sliding your tongue against his bottom lip until he opens his jaw slightly. Tongues clashing, you grab onto his dirty work shirt and moan softly. It lights something deep in Billy and he’s lifting you from the chair and setting you on the table. You don’t even care that your dad and Mary are awake. Maybe it’s the hormones but you want Billy so carnally in this moment you’re gonna let him fuck you on the kitchen table.

Your hands make quick work of his belt and zipping, pushing down his briefs and pants low enough for his cock to spring out. Billy groans into your mouth, his fingers pushing your nightgown up and pull your panties to the side. He presses his tip to your entrance and pushes in with ease, filling you to the brim in one swift thrust. You cry out but he silences it with his lips, hands digging into your hips while he drills into you. It’s so rushed and reckless, like if anyone walked in you two couldn’t physically stop. Your hands wrap around his neck, whimpering against his lips. With each thrust, he hits your g-spot so perfectly and repeatedly you’re already a goner.

He pulls his lips away to whisper in his ear, “Such a needy girl. You’ve been thinking about my cock filling you all day, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you confess breathlessly, “want it all the time.”

Billy has to admit, with all the working he’s been doing he’s a little pent up so he’s not lasting very long. He grabs onto your hair and pulls it, tilting your head back so he can devour your throat with his tongue and teeth. You grip onto him tighter, gasping out without a care in the world about how loud you’re being. Billy rolls his hips into you even harder, his grip on your hair getting tighter as he chases his high. It grabs you first, though and you moan out his name as your hips rock up to meet his eager thrusts. Your orgasm ripples through you, your thighs shaking before your legs go limp. Billy grabs a hold of them, fingers digging into the back of your thighs as he holds them up. He gives another few hard thrusts before shooting his load into you. He stills completely, lowering his forehead to rest on your shoulder as he breaths hard. You giggle softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and turning your face slightly to kiss his dirty hair.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters before pulling away and stuffing himself back into his pants. “You need a shower now.”

You bite your lip as he slides your under back into place and helps you off the table. He laces your fingers and drags you to the bathroom where you share a very boring shower.

-

“He proposed how?” Eddie asks, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at Billy from across the room.

The baby shower was bigger than you thought it would be. Your dad invited every single one of his employees and they all showed up. You invited Eddie and Billy invited Max. But there were so many people here you barely knew. Mary even invited the majority of her coworkers. It was nice. Your eyes turn to follow Eddie’s, seeing as Billy sips his beer while talking to his coworkers.

“Well, the ring fell out of his pants when we were getting ready for bed and I saw it so he just did it then,” you shrug, “I’m sure he was planning some big gesture but I like how he did it. It was sweet.”

Eddie frowns, “He’s so different now.”

You know he means it as a compliment but you know this Billy has been in there all along. You’re just glad you were able to help coax it out of him. Billy was different without having to be under the dictatorship that was Neil but he was more like himself. He was patient, kind and incredibly loving. The biggest surprise was just how funny Billy is. He would have you bent over laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe. When he didn’t have to be so serious all the time, he had a great sense of humor.

“He’s himself now,” you correct Eddie.

He reaches over and squeezes your hand, “I’m happy for you. I mean it. You deserve this, all of it.”

“Thank you,” you beam, meeting his eyes. “Oh!” your eyes widen as you slide off your engagement ring and you hand it to Eddie. “Look how he engraved it.”

“Snoopy?!” Eddie let’s out a bellowing laugh before handing the ring back to you. “And you were embarrassed of those pajamas.”

“It’s still embarrassing,” you gush, “We may be getting married but I still want Billy to think I’m cool.”

“He obviously does, otherwise he wouldn’t be looking at you like that,” Eddie grins.

Your eyes raise back up to see Billy looking at you with stars in his eyes as he bites his lower lip. Your cheeks redden as you smile back and you see him walking over.

“Having fun, Eddie?” he asks, hands in his pockets.

Eddie nods enthusiastically, “Oh yeah, this is quite the rager. In fact, I frequent baby showers. They’re the best kinds of parties.”

“Well then,” Billy smirks up at you, “We’ll have to make a couple more so you can come to the parties.”

The idea that Billy wants more than one baby makes your stomach flip. You can just imagine him rocking cargo shorts and dad shoes.

“Give me two years after this one at least,” you say defensively.

“You excited to be maid of honor?” Billy directs his attention back to Eddie as he sits at the table with you two.

“Dude of honor, thank you very much,” Eddie bites back cheerfully.

“You wearing a dress?” Billy teases, pulling the beer he was holding up to his lips as he smirks over the rim of it.

“Don’t think I won’t,” Eddie mimics Billy’s smirk.

Mary interrupts by rushing over to tell you it’s time to open the gifts. She ushers you and Billy over to the couch where the presents are slowly presented to you. Mary takes photos of every gift, insisting Billy smiles as he hold them up. You turn to watch his face scrunch up in exaggerated delight as he holds up a box of diapers.

“You’re not gonna be making that face when you have to change ‘em,” you hear one of his coworkers call out.

Billy rolls his eyes as he sets the diapers back down but then his smile is back as Max walks over with a gift bag. He pulls the card out and opens it.

Billy,

This gift was hard to give because it’s the one thing I kept from your infancy. It was a reminder of the love your mother and I once shared and what a wonderful baby you were. You’re growing up and I wanted you to know I’m proud of you. I know you’ll be a great dad.

Love,

your dad.

Billy’s eyes immediately well up with tears and he wonders if his dad cried while writing that. Neil had never been so candid, he’d never once told Billy he was proud of him. He wouldn’t even bring up Billy’s mom. This… this was something else. He wipes his tears quickly, sniffling harshly as he hands you the card. He pulls out a second card and wonders if his dads playing a sick joke and this one will say Just kidding. Fuck you. but it doesn’t. This one is to you and him and it’s from Max and Susan. He reaches into the bag as pulls out some baby clothes. After you read the card, you’re leaning into Billy and pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you rub circles against his back. You’re crying, a lot more freely than he is. At the bottom of the bag, Billy feels the hard plastic and hears the sound before he sees the gift and immediately he knows what it is. He pulls it out, mouth agape slightly as he peers down at the ocean themed rattle. He recognizes it, he’d been pretty damn attached to it when he was a kid. He can’t believe his dad had kept it and had it tucked away all these years. He’s too floored by the rush of emotion to care about all the eyes in the room on him. He won’t let himself break down and sob, but he stays silent as he holds the toy in his hand. He didn’t know Neil had it in him to be so kind.

You press a kiss to his cheek, “That’s so sweet, Billy.”

“I know,” he says after clearing his throat and resting the rattle back into the bag before slapping his thighs, “Alright, what’s next?”

You let it go, knowing you’ll talk to him more in depth tonight. Max reaches forward and squeezes his shoulder before retreating. She knows Billy well enough to not dwell on this moment in front of everyone.

-

When you walk into the bedroom, you see Billy sitting against the headrest of your bed. He’s holding the rattle in his hands, turning it over while he looks at it. You sit next to him, placing a hand on his thigh as you wait for him to speak first.

“You think he regrets being a giant asshole my whole life?” Billy breathes out, not tearing his eyes away from the rattle.

“Probably,” you guess, “I’m sure he misses you being around. He’s probably had lots of time to think about how he treated you.”

Billy drops his hands, looking up at you with misty eyes, “I want to hate him so bad.”

“And you have every right to. But it’s complicated. Did you hold resentment for your mom after she left?”

He nods.

“Yet, you still love her dearly and you’ve justified why she left. It could be that while your dad was shitty to you, you still appreciate that he was there,” you offer, hoping it could help him. You didn’t exactly know how Billy was feeling but you know how you felt about your own situation with your parents.

Billy sighs, a tear breaking from his eyes and cascades down his cheek. He reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “I don’t want to be like him. I want to be a good dad.”

“You will be,” you promise, moving into his lap and raking your hands through his hair. “You don’t have to be like him.”

Billy rests his head against your chest, pulling you into a hug. You circle your arms around his neck and squeeze him tightly while you kiss the top of his head. “It’s not the best apology but maybe it’s way of doing it.”

“Yeah…” Billy sighs, “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” you tell him.

-

“Are we ready for something like this?” you ask as you walk down the hall, peering into empty rooms.

“Your dad said he’d co-sign,” Billy shrugs as he steps into the hallway bathroom and flicks the light switch on and off.

A mortgage seems like a big step into adulthood that you’re not sure you’re ready to take. You’re always overthinking things, though. You’ve imagined all the possibilities. All the things that could happen. Like what if you and Billy break up. Or what if you guys can’t afford to pay it and it horribly damages your credits for the rest of your lives. Billy seems to notice you’re panicking internally because he wraps his arm around your waist and looks down at you.

“You’re pregnant with my baby and we’re getting married in a week. The next logical step is buying a house,” he says and then thinks for a second, “Er, trailer.”

“I don’t even have a car yet. I’m still a kid,” you argue back.

“Yeah, we’ll work on the car thing,” he chuckles, “We may be young but we’re doing very adult things. We’ll be fine. We’ve got each other.”

“It’s three bedrooms,” you point out.

Billy rolls his eyes, “We ain’t stopping at one baby. We’ll need the room.”

You giggle and with that, he’s convinced you.

“Fine!” you gush, “Let’s do it.”

Billy grins as he leans you back and plants a big, sloppy kiss on your lips. The prospect of being so domestic with him has you buzzing. You grab hold of his jaw while you kiss back. He pulls back to nudge his nose with yours, “I’ll put in an offer. We can move in after the honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” you look up at him in disbelief. You’d thought it’d been out of the budget.

“Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that?” he leads you into the kitchen and leans against the empty cabinets.

“You did,” you reply, “How can we afford to buy a house and a honeymoon?”

Billy lifts you up and rests your ass on the counter, twirling a bit of your hair between his fingers while he looks up at you. Your heart swells with how much you love this man. He’s given you everything you could ever want and more.

“Why do you think I’ve been working twelve hour days? I wanna give you everything I can,” he murmurs, blue eyes scanning your face and focusing in on your lips.

“I wanna give you everything too,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist and grabbing a hold of his t-shirt.

“Yeah?” he smirks, resting his hand on your thigh, “You can give me something right now.”

“In here?” your eyes widen.

“Why not? It’ll be ours,” he counters, hooking his fingers into your waistband.

He has a good point so you nod, leaning back so he can pull your leggings down to your ankles. He presses a bruising kiss to your lips as he starts to unzip his jeans. Once he’s got his cock in his hand, he drags his tip through your folds. Billy exhales at the sensation, your slick coating his throbbing head. It’s all so intoxicating and right. He taps it against clit a few times, eyes on yours intently as you whimper. You worry the realtor will show up randomly even though she canceled and gave Billy the key.

He reads your mind, seeing the uncertainty on your face and tells you, “Stop thinking. We’re alone.”

“Okay,” you breath out but it quickly turns into a moan as Billy slips inside your dripping hole.

He fills you completely, exhaling against your face as he does so and you can smell the minty gum he was chewing. You grab a hold of his shoulder, sinking back until your head rests against the cupboard. You’ll never get used to how big he is or the way your aching pussy grips him. You get excited, thinking about all the furniture you guys can fuck on in your new place and how you’re starting that now before it’s officially yours.

Billy’s lips are against your ear suddenly and you feel his breath on it as he whines, “Fuck, you’re so tight. I fucking love your pussy. All mine.”

You cry out when he bites your earlobe and starts thrusting into your eager core. The slow drag of his member against your walls is electric, sending shivers up your spine. He grabs hold of your thighs and scoots you a bit closer, angling your hips up so he reaches the spongy spot deep inside you.

“Billy,” you moan out, “Ugh, right there!”

He laughs lowly, almost sinisterly and it’s the sexiest sound to grace your ears. You love to fluff his ego, you want him to be so sure that he fucks you like no one else could and that you completely belong to him. It’s hot how arrogant he can be about it.

“Fuck, that’s so fucking good,” you groan out, eyes rolling back as his rhythm reaches the pace that’ll bring you over the edge.

“Yeah? You like that?” he grits out, “This pussy was made just for me.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod frantically, “all yours, Billy.”

“All mine,” he repeats, moving his hand so he can lick his thumb and press it against your clit, moving it in quick circles.

“Ugh, yes… I’m so close,” you warn him, hands tangling into the curls at the back of his head.

Billy groans lowly against your ear before encouraging you, “That’s it. Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

You whine, closing your eyes as he lures you to the edge. He licks against your neck and you lose it, writhing on the counter as you reach your climax. He keeps whispering praises into your ear as you ride it out, prolonging the waves even further than normal. You don’t even notice he’s meeting you there until you feel him emptying inside you.

“Billy,” you pant softly, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. He wipes them away and kisses your lips gently before pulling away and dressing the two of you.

“Well, we’ve christened the house,” he jokes.

You smack him arm, “We have to buy it now.”

He chuckles as he helps you down of the counter, “Or we can keep looking and see how many empty houses I can fuck you in.”

“Very romantic,” you roll your eyes, lacing your fingers together so you can lead him out to the car.

-

Your wedding dress is just a tad snug but you can still walk in it so you think that’s a win. Max, Mary, your dad and Eddie sit on the bench while you stand on the pedestal. You’d wanted Billy to come with but Mary insisted it was horrible luck for him to see you in the dress before the wedding. You felt like you and Billy were too in love for any of those superstitions to affect you. However, at the same time you didn’t want to risk it.

“It’s a little tight,” you mention to the associate, “in the belly, obviously.”

Eddie snorts but when you turn to him to glare at him, he smiles wide, “You look great in it.”

“Could we just take it out a tiny bit here?” you ask the associate as you rub your stomach.

“Of course, we can,” she smiles at you, “We’ll be cutting time a little short, it won’t be ready until the morning of, though.

“That’s fine,” you say as you turn and look behind your shoulder to see the back of it. “You can pick it up, right, Eddie?”

“I’ll pick my dress up then too,” he teases, earning laughs from the room.

You roll your eyes as you turn back around. When the associate brings out the veil and places it on your head, Mary lets out a sob and you turn to see your dad also has tears in his eyes.

“Happy crying, I hope,” the associate mutters to you, “you look stunning.”

You hope Billy will agree. You beam at her before you turn back to the mirror, the reflection you see is almost a stranger. You’d never imagined you’d be getting married ever, let alone right before your nineteenth birthday.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married,” you say to yourself, eyes scanning over all the delicate, lace details on the dress.

“To Billy fucking Hargrove,” you hear from Eddie, it’s soft and copies your disbelief. It was quick, very quick. Hell, you’d known him barely over a year and now you’re making the commitment to spend the rest of your life with him. It feels a little scary until you imagine him standing next to you, in a suit and bowtie. Then it feels more exciting than anything.

-

Billy peers down at the invitation in his hand as he stands at the doorstep. He could turn around. He could run back into your dads house and continue his life without Neil in it. But the card he’d given Billy made him not want to. He’d always been there, always stayed by his dads side and picked up the broken pieces of their life. He knew his dad was an asshole, knew he treated him so unfairly for his entire childhood but he never abandoned Billy. So Billy couldn’t abandon him.

He knocks on the door, hoping that maybe Susan or Max would answer and he could just hand over the wedding invitation and leave. But he’s met with a familiar mustache and brooding blue eyes, wonders if his own look like that.

“Son,” Neil says, his tone stern with a hint of relief.

Billy keeps their eye contact, like he’s been taught to, like real men do. Though he struggles, always has. Wants to anywhere but his dad.

“I uh, wanted to give you this,” he says and extends the invitation out.

“Come in,” Neil says, the tone has changed but Billy’s still wary. He thinks of making an excuse, saying he’s got to work or you have an appointment but he doesn’t. He follows his dad inside, to the fridge where he grabs two beers and casually passes one to his son. As they walk into the living room, Billy notices his weight set is gone and a chair takes its place, probably paid for the chair. Billy won’t mention that he personally paid for the bench press. He hasn’t had time for working out anyways, doesn’t have much anger pent up anymore. He fears for a moment that he’s getting pudgy but his dad distracts him from the self criticism.

“Sit down.”

Billy obeys, sits on the new chair and cracks the beer open. His shoulders ache and he notices how much he’s tensed up by stepping into this house so he rolls them to get some relief and tells himself he’s fine, safe. Extending the invitation to his father, he relaxes a bit. There’s a peace offering in it.

Neil takes the envelope and opens it, pulling out the card stock with your name and Billy’s at the top.

“So, you’re gonna do the right thing and marry the girl,” Neil nods, “Good.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, wants to tell his dad how much he loves you and that’s why he’s marrying you, not just because he knocked you up. “It’s this Saturday. I probably should’ve brought this over sooner but you know, we’ve been busy. I just signed the papers for our house.”

“You bought a house?” Neil sounds surprised but proud.

Billy nods, “Well, it’s a trailer but yeah. Three bedrooms, two baths, it’s nice.”

“Expecting more kids already?”

“We want to,” he clears his throat, “Not right away but yeah.”

Neil sighs, looking down at the invitation, “Well congratulations. I’m glad you’re starting a family.”

“Thanks.”

Billy’s itching to leave and hates that he can’t just get along with his dad like most sons. Furious at his dad for making it feel like he can’t say what he’s feeling. Part of him wants to tell him thank you for sticking around but he knows Neil will tell him he had no choice. And Billy knows that’s true.

“We’ll be there,” Neil says and sips his beer, tossing the invitation on the coffee table. The air in the room is thick. They both want to say how they feel but it’s been beaten in both of them not to. Billy makes a silent promise to himself he won’t do that to his kids because this is brutal to sit through.

“Cool,” Billy nods and they sit in silence as they finish their beers. Billy figures he can leave now.

-

Squeezing into the wedding dress was like shoving a balloon into a sock. How your belly had grown so much in just one week you weren’t sure. It was a horrible way to start the morning. You felt bloated and tired. They’d taken the dress out but it seemed like they hadn’t. You should’ve insisted another inch or two. Mary assures you that doesn’t look like it’s squeezing you. Eddie walks into the room, already in his suit and he looks like a million bucks, he’s holding a packet of mini donuts from a convenience store.

“Jesus,” you breath out when you see him, “I have never in my life seen you look so grown up.”

He shoves a donut into his mouth, cheeks filling as he smiles around the bite. Once upon a time you thought you’d end up marrying him and seeing him in a suit gives you a tiny glimpse into that parallel universe and it’s not so bad, but you’re glad it’s not the one you’re in.

“Did you invite Harrington?” he asks once he’s swallowed, “I saw his placement on the table.”

“Billy insisted,” you admit, “think it’s part of that weird feud they have going on.”

He snorts, “Did you make him invite Stephanie?”

“We never got her RSVP,” you giggle and Mary rolls her eyes.

“Doing all these grown up things yet you’re acting like you’re still in high school,” she sighs.

“It’s healthy,” Eddie shrugs.

“Very healthy!” you agree.

“So how did the bachelor party go?” Eddie asks as he sits.

You laugh, hard. Billy had come home drunk but complaining that Tommy and Drew didn’t get along and that neither of them knew how to throw a proper bachelor party.

“No strippers then?” Eddie teases and shoves another donut in his mouth.

“I think they just got drunk at Drew’s apartment.”

“Real rager.”

“Totally.”

Your dad walks into the room, getting a look at you all done up for the first time. He grins wide, “My little girl. All grown up.”

“It’s about time, huh?” Eddie shoves your shoulder playfully.

Your eyes always hurt after spending time with Eddie, constantly rolling them.

“Speaking of,” Mary rips the donuts from Eddie’s hands, “You need to be heading down the aisle.”

“Yay, I get to walk with Tommy,” he mumbles sarcastically. “Think I might get lucky,” he winks at you.

“Carol’s watching,” you call after him as he exits the room.

Mary stands at the door as watches, then she’s turning back to you and your dad.

“It’s time!” she squeals.

You link arms with your dad after he fixes your veil. The butterflies in your stomach rave, more present than they’ve been all day. It’s happening. You’re about walk down the aisle to Billy. You feel like you might puke so you take a deep breath. The piano sounds cue you and your dads feet, walking through the doors until the beginning of the aisle. Immediately, your eyes meet with Billy’s ocean blue ones. The threat of vomiting immediately ceases. He’s never looked more handsome than he does in this moment. His suit hugs him perfectly, the blue tie matching his eyes. His curls. They’re so perfect, pretty blonde coils styled more intently than ever. He takes your breath away. It’s as if you’re the only two people in the church. You can’t even feel all the eyes on you as every head in the pews turn to you. The walk feels like it takes forever, you want to run to him.

When you finally get there, you see the tears in his eyes and he shyly says, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you repeat and it’s met with a roar of laughter. For a moment you feel like you’re in a tv show and you’re reminded there’s about 100 eyeballs on you.

Billy takes your hands in his, grounding you. It’s easy for the rest of the ceremony as you look into his eyes. He somehow expresses silently to you that this is just between you and him. You could’ve done this simple and just as sweet at the courthouse but Mary loved planning this big event.

You recite your vows, Mary had helped you write them because you had no idea what you were supposed to say. The first wedding you attended was your own. Billy recites his and they’re simple but beautiful. They make you cry. He reaches up the year streaming down your cheek and the audience collectively ‘aws’ and you feel like you’re right back in that tv show.

When you kiss, you feel a whole lot lighter. Billy’s lips are soft and pliable. He’s your husband now. You’re kissing your husband. He cups your cheeks with his hands, smiling into it before slipping his tongue past your lips. Again, you’re reminded of the audience by the whooping.

-

Billy can dance. You watch with wide eyes as he two-steps with none other than Steve Harrington. They have drunk smiles and flushed cheeks. You feel warm inside, dandelions sprouting in your belly. You and Steve made a mistake but he was a really good friend, you’d wanted to show Billy that. Open Billy up to people who would care for him.

“That’s a sight for sore eyes,” Mary says to you, nudging your shoulder. She can see the smile stretching your face. Everyone in the room can see it.

When Billy locks hands with Robin and sways away with her, you take the opportunity to swoop in on Steve. He looks surprised, but happy. He holds onto your hand and awkwardly moves side to side with you. It seems Billy was doing all the work.

“Thanks for coming,” you say to him, watching as his chestnut hair flops with each step.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he beams, “Seriously, congratulations.”

“It’s weird, though, right?”

“Oh, other dimension weird,” he agrees, “That’s life.” Steve shrugs on the last word.

“He’s nice,” you feel the need to say. “Better than nice.”

“He’s not half bad,” Steve says but his eyes look past your shoulder and you feel strong hands on your waist, pulling you back from Steve’s grip.

Blonde curls tickle your jaw as your husband rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes locked on Steve’s.

“Mind if I steal her? She’s my wife, after all,” Billy shoots him a toothy grin and the declaration sends tingles through you.

Steve raises his hands, “Hey, she’s all yours.”

Billy turns you, looking right into your eyes with a dreamy bite of his lip. You hook your arms around his neck and press your hips to his. He moves his hands up your back and shamelessly says, “Can’t fucking wait to get this dress off of you.”

“I’d be happy to leave right now,” you chide, hooking a blonde curl with your finger.

Billy purses his lips, “We could just find a broom closet or something.”

“Hmm, romantic,” you roll your eyes but you’d definitely do it. “Where are we going?”

“Oh you mean the honeymoon? It’s a secret, tonight we crash at our new place,” he tells you nonchalantly.

“On the floor?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing this week? Got us a much bigger bed,” he grins, nudging his nose into yours.

You tilt your head, “Think they’ll all notice if we leave right now?”

Billy lets out a deep, throaty laugh. He squeezes your hips, “This whole shindig is kinda for us. Yeah, they’d notice.”

“I don’t really care if they do,” you admit and that’s all it takes to convince Billy. It’s late anyways. He’s pulling you out the doors before anyone can make a peep.

[georgelynchsstuff]

Lynch Mob

Wicked Sensation

[dijidweeeb]

Motivational Music in the Morning ... #LynchMob, #WickedSensation [Official Audio Track] (1990) #MMitM1

[eyelinertestosterone]

LYNCH MOB-RIVER OF LOVE

[mariocki]

Inspector Morley, Late of Scotland Yard, Investigates: The Case of the Scarlet Letters (1.3, WGN-TV, 1952)

"Mr. Mullins, I have in my possession sixty-eight letters, none of which has begun to outlive its usefulness. I'm quite prepared to admit that blackmail is risky, but then murder has its disadvantages too - that is why I gave up murder."

[adonis-koo]

Time heals everything so just let it do it’s work. If u can’t stomach the thought of love, then don’t force it. It will come when it’s ready.

Ik it’s sucks to think that maybe he wasn’t as into you as he said, but at least you were honest and loved them to the fullest extent which is really admirable.

And plz give him a side glare upon my behalf whenever u see him at work

my intention has been settled the entire day as ‘it’s okay to grieve what wasn’t meant for me’

i ended up talking to him outside at work yesterday and we talked about how we both felt, how it went down, it was…a very bittersweet feeling, but I understood where he was coming from and why he made his decision, I gave him my few thoughts in relation and spared him all the feelings I’m reconciling now.

we left things on good terms, because even if it wasn’t love, we still cared for one another deeply, and that still meant something.

does it still hurt? it does, but will I be okay eventually? I will, I do firmly believe it. another mantra I’ve been repeating is ‘I will never miss out on what is meant for me’

also I unfortunately don’t have the heart to sideglare him and it’s also no longer possible because yesterday was my last day 🎉 I’m off to get another job working with kids and I’ll be getting my licensing for it.

I’m very excited because this something I’ve been wanting to do for a long while and just didn’t realize there was a niche to get in to start. will it work out? hell if I know, I thought this would work out and it turned into a total dumpster fire 💀

but regardless I’m embracing the journey for what it is. anyways I’m gonna stop using this blog as my journal now, because I’ve accidentally projected on here for two months straight and if you scroll far enough you can watch this train wreck go down in 4K and I’d that isn’t embarrassing then idk what is💀

[crystalxdeathheadx]

-

[silkjade-archived]

WICKED DRAGON, LAY WASTE TO ME

⤀ synopsis: neuvillette has always been the gentlest of lovers—and so tonight you ask him not to hold back ⤀ cw: afab!reader, unprotected + rough sex, size kink, praise, overstimulation, breeding + creampie, marking, monsterfucking (dragon cock), cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, dumbification, mentions of mates, lil bit of dom!neuvi (??) but he is still sweet — mdni || ꒰ 8.4k wc ꒱ a/n: leviathan fic for leviathan neuv ( i’m not talking abt his constellation ) rbs + feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡

“Well? What do you think?” You come home, twirling before him in a gown, different than the one you had left in. The short hem at the front lifts mischievously, teasing just a peek of what lies underneath, while the longer, flouncing layers of skirts behind you, wrap flirtatiously around your legs. Neuvillette feels his throat run dry.

“Navia and Clorinde thought it was high time I changed my look, and you know I can’t ever say no to Chioriya Boutique.” 

While he’s spent the better part of the night reviewing court documents in the parlor, you have been out with Navia and Clorinde, who he thinks have perhaps plotted to kill him. ‘Girls’ night,’ you had called it.

Draped in a vivid palette of the finest fabrics, decorated interchangeably with delicate metalwork and dainty ribbons, the blush on his pale skin is ever-present as he rakes his eyes up and down your body. The dark, patterned stockings, squeezing your thighs just enough, so that supple flesh spills obscenely over the top, the tight, whale-boned embrace of your corset, accentuating the curves of your waist, and pushing upwards the swell of your breasts…

A coy smile graces your features when you catch how his throat bobs in his silence. Giggling, you lean down, tracing the tip of your finger up the contours of his neck, skimming the gentle curve beneath his chin until you’ve tilted his gaze to yours. “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, got nothing to say?”

How can he even think, much less find the right words to say, when the familiar scent of your perfume fills his head with indecent, lascivious thoughts? Everything about you is intoxicating, almost insidiously attractive, so would it suffice to say that he’d much rather see your pretty, new dress abandoned somewhere on the floor? 

That first pulse of arousal translates into the first twitch of his cock, and oh how he wishes to kiss away your teasing little grin, but his lust-driven eyes are drawn to the miniscule movements of your bodice sleeve, predatory as he watches how it begins to shift, ever so slowly, off your shoulders. 

“If you don’t like it, then perhaps…” You loosely roll your shoulder, letting the sleeve slide right off. “…you’d like to help me undress?”

That, he will gladly do. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down into a straddle over his hips. 

“Temptress,” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, distracting you with a featherlight kiss as his nimble fingers waste no time in undoing the delicate clasps of your bodice, leaving the heavy outer garment to tumble off your shoulders, abandoned in a pile at your waist. 

Cool air licks at the now exposed skin, though it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his lips as he slots his mouth against yours, gently coaxing you open with a subtle swipe of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut in honeyed complacence, allowing Neuvillette to kiss you slow and sweet; impassioned, ardent, each kiss an oath of love and longing and lust. 

Desire blooms like romaritime flowers upon water, and you just know the tension underneath his placid exterior, is ready to burst. It’s prevalent in the way his muscles grow taut, tense beneath your every touch, fighting to hold himself back as your legs squeeze around his hips. Demonstrated, again, by how he pulls apart your corset, impatient and haphazard as he unlaces each cross, before tossing it to the ground, forgotten. And of course, only you can attest to the searing sensations of his escalating kisses—gentle wisps, once faint and docile, now wanton and heated with depravity. 

You can already feel it in your chest, in your bones, in the wetness that’s begun to form between your legs; maybe it’s the anticipation, but despite the layers of clothing you’ve already shed, you find it even harder now to breathe, especially as he holds you so close, body pressed against yours, while he traces the bare curve of your neck with his lips. 

For one with such a carefully crafted visage of elegance and poise, Neuvillette becomes sloppier as his restraint fades and lust seeps through the cracks. Something about you drives him wild, draws out the more carnal side of him that he so desperately seeks to hide away from you, who he could never even dream of hurting. 

But perhaps he’s spent too much time amongst humans. Or perhaps he understands their nature more than he had initially believed, for he makes the most human mistake of all in letting his control slip—enough that his fangs graze upon your sensitive skin, sending a shiver that reaches all the way down to your core, eliciting a moan so mellifluous, he cannot help but utter a sigh of strained content as the undeniably sweet sound reaches his ears.

“If we don’t stop now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back,” he mutters, tongue laving over the spot in apology. It doesn’t help that you voluntarily crane your neck, offering him even more access in your heated bliss. His fingers dig into your waist in a silent plea to still your rolling hips. 

“So don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t hold back tonight.” Desperate to have him closer, you arch into him, the loose material of his shirt firmly clasped in your hands, deepening the kiss with a quick tug, a silent request for him to let go, but he immediately halts his movements, pulling away in hesitance. 

Oh Neuvillette. Your sweet Neuvillette, who in spite of his stern exterior, is the gentlest of lovers—always so tender with you and steadfast in placing your pleasure before his. You know of his draconic origins, know that he holds back in fear of hurting you, but for all the times he’s pleased you to the fullest extent, you only wish to do the same for him.

Your hand reaches to cup his face and he leans into your familiar touch, steely eyes soft. “It’s okay, I trust you.”

It’s already difficult denying you anything on a normal basis, so how can he, now that you sit, straddled over him, determination colored in your bright eyes, and with nothing but flimsy cloth left between the two of you. His eyes linger at your chest, the scooping neckline of your lace slip doing nothing to hide the smooth crests of your collarbones, begging to be marked. 

Neuvillette sucks in a breath, and attempts to swallow his doubts, before exhaling. He can no longer ignore the tightness in his groin, and to you, it’s clear that the obvious erection poking from beneath his trousers, speaks much louder than the uncertainty storming in his eyes. Perhaps he just needs one more push…

Your fingers come to curve around the sharp lines of his jaw, unwavering as you tilt his head up into your gaze. “Don’t worry about me, I can take it.”

His heart threatens to leap out of his chest in a flash of excitement, gratitude, desire; it’s far from the first time you’ve lain together, but to choose to bear such vulnerability before him, to surrender yourself to a full-fledged dragon… He glides his hands over the round slopes of your shoulders, easily sliding off the straps of your slip as he goes. The silk garment collapses down your torso, piling atop your forgotten dress. 

“If that is truly what you wish…” He presses an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin between your breasts, and the warmth of his breath runs a chill even colder than the night air. His whispers hide a growl, and despite the blush apparent at the tips of his pointed ears, his hold on your waist tightens. One hand slides down to grasp at your rear, and you can feel him smile against your lips, the rattle of a faint chuckle rippling in his throat before your breath hitches as he picks you up in his arms, and carries you off to the bedroom. 

He sets you by your shared bed, tearing off his now wrinkled shirt, while you wriggle out of whatever’s left of your dress, until both sets of clothing are discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re finally left in only your panties and your stockings.

Immediately, his hands find your waist, roaming up and down over your curves as he smothers you in hungry kisses, herding you along until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your shared bed. This Neuvillette nips at your bottom lip, not asking for, but demanding entrance into your mouth, and you have no choice but to let him in, what with the way he makes you whine as he sneaks his hands down to knead the globe of your ass, before lowering you onto the bed. 

The tingling sensations bloom in your stomach, buzzing with excitement while you ready yourself to surrender completely—pliant to his will, whatever it may be. Arousal swallows you like the sea and he has yet to even really touch you. Impatient, your hand wanders, though not far down enough before you’re caught in his grasp. 

“Patience…” he mutters, pinning your wrist beside your head, broad shoulders caging you in between him and the sheets. His other hand follows the natural lines of your body, tracing along the edges until he stops to fondle one of your breasts. 

It’s impossible to relax your speeding heart at this side of Neuvillette: less reserved in his touches, more candid in his wants. The untreated heat in your body makes sure to touch on every part of you, running like water through your veins, until you’re sure your dripping cunt is pulsing with a heart of its own. Unable to stand the ache any longer, you wriggle beneath him—rolling your hips and squirming until your knee unwittingly brushes against his crotch, eliciting a choked grunt from him, only slightly muffled by the fact that his teeth have dug their way into your exposed flesh. 

He immediately pulls away at the sound of your surprised yelp, eyes darting to and fro across your features in frantic search for even the smallest semblance of discomfort, completely missing the way your entire body had seemed to arch into his touch. His eyes finally settle at the light indentations now displayed upon your once unblemished skin.

“Forgive me,” he begins, “I should have been more careful.” Neuvillette is ever the gentleman, but his voice is clearly strained in a poor attempt at fighting back his instincts—instincts that demand a dragon to mark what is his. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.” A soft smile graces your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face, curling around his jaw in hushed reassurance. It’s so easy to read the thoughts that plague him so. “It felt good, I promise.”

True to your word, his heightened senses easily pick up on the scent of pure arousal that drifts from between your legs, swirling in the air, and lulling him into a state he’s kept buried for so long, he’s unsure of whether he’d be able to hold himself back even if he wanted to. He admires your bravery for daring to poke at the slumbering beast; bravery he knows stems from a place of passion, but how can he release such inhibitions upon a mere human? So physically… fragile. 

“I meant what I said: I can take it. And I know you won’t hurt me so…” Your fingers clasp around his shoulders, pulling your lover down just far enough to whisper, low and sultry, in his pointed ear.

“Don’t you dare look down on me, o’ hydro dragon sovereign..” 

You lurch forward, manicured nails drawing light lines down his bare back, and he meets you halfway in a long, drawn out kiss. A quiet growl rumbles from deep within his throat, clearly aroused by the way you had drawled out his full title. He nips at your bottom lip, dragging out a single, short gasp before leaving to trail wet kisses down the column of your throat, never stopping until his lips hover over the very spot where he had previously made his mark. 

He doesn’t even have to touch you, just his presence, tangled with your own anticipatory excitement, invites a shudder so deep, you can feel it in your bones. The sharp edge of his fangs scrape along that still-sensitive patch of skin, lightly, as if testing the waters, though this time, he makes sure to take note of the quiver in your pretty little mewls. 

Slowly, he bites down again and a moan slips past your lips, forced out from the very depths of your chest as your fingers fly to tangle in his moonridden tresses. His hot breath seeps past the barrier of your skin, leaving every nerve privy to his effect, and combined with the building pressure, you’re left open for the stream of soft whimpers that leave the perfect ‘o’ of your parted lips. As he sinks his teeth deeper, you squeeze your eyes shut in the midst of all the pleasure.

“Do it again,” you gasp, “felt good… ”

And oh, he has absolutely every intention to, what with the way you’re putty underneath him. However, he must do something about how distracting your hands are when you tug at his hair: hard enough for him to groan with an ache so wanton, it sends tremors echoing down until his trousers feel far, far too tight. 

Neuvillette is neither here nor there when he alternates between kissing and sucking and biting at your tender flesh—anywhere is fair game when you’ve relinquished yourself to him like this. With how attentive his lips are along your body, you hardly even care for the absence of his hand when he reaches around to untie the ribbon in his hair… at least not until it’s too late and you're left bemused by the uncharacteristic display of boldness; after all, it’s all you can do when your wrists are suddenly so tightly bound overhead.

You whine as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue, while he ravishes the other between his fingers. Heat surges through you and the aching desperation congregating in your belly begins to boil; you’ve never felt so sensitive, never been more pervasive to his touch.

Inside. You need him inside of you. But with your hands currently incapacitated, you’ve no other choice except to buck into him, beckoning him with your hips in the hopes of redirecting his attention to where you throb. 

“Inside. Please. I need you. Need you inside.” 

He hums in acknowledgement of your wishes, tugging at the hardened bud with his teeth, successfully wringing another shaky cry from your throat, before he finally pulls at the delicate lace of your panties, and guides them down the length of your legs. You easily kick them off, but in his observation, his piercing gaze catches every thrum of your muscles as they tense underneath the hand that finally trails between your thighs. He drags his lithe fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, while his thumb rubs your clit in slow, but firm, circles. 

“My apologies for the wait.” Neuvillette kisses you right above your heart, where his acute hearing easily picks up how it palpitates as he dips his fingers into your velvet walls. “Allow me to make amends, my love.”

With the way your cunt gushes so copiously, it’s easy for him to slide all the way down to the last knuckle. He flicks his wrist, pumping fast and hard, scissoring you open before slipping in a third digit, drawing out mewl after pathetic mewl, as you fail to pull yourself together. The bedsheets twist beneath your incessant movements: simultaneously squirming not only from the initial stretch, but also to feel him deeper.

The discomfort is all too familiar, but with just the curl of his fingers, it washes away into unadulterated pleasure, just as it always does. But with your arms tethered, leaving you open and powerless, everything—every touch, every twist, every curl—feels tenfold.

Plus, no one would even believe you if you were to say that the chief justice had such a playful side in the bedroom; his fingers have explored your insides far too many times for him to just miss the little spot that he definitely knows by muscle memory. Whining, you buck your hips, senselessly grinding into his hand, hoping he’d get the message, hoping he’d quell your heat right at the source. 

But something dangerous and wild and primordial shines in the blue-violet glow of his eyes. For all the times you’ve made love together, he’s never seen you like this: so desperate, so needy for him. He pinches a nipple, hard, before locking your jolting hips down; a show of strength to remind you of your place. 

“Please, more.” Your voice rises in congruence with how you struggle against your ribbon-bound wrists. His fingers tease the spot again, this time with more force, and he watches as you keen and clench around him—helpless and at his mercy. 

With a curl, his fingers crook inside your silken walls, pistoning in and out, fast and hard. Arousal continues to build, turning the low squelches into distinct suctions. Every nerve in your body is ignited, seared by the heat as he laps at the overflowing wetness that seeps out of your entrance. A satisfied purr sounds in his throat, and the vibrations dare your hips to buck in spite of the iron grip that holds you down.  

It thrills him to see you steadily fall apart like this, coming so undone before him, dissolving under the weight of your pleasure. It’s just as you had wanted. More. So you can take it, can’t you? You can take more? 

Neuvillette slots your throbbing clit into his mouth, hot tongue relentlessly striking the swollen nub with viscous lashes, while his fingers continue to bully your insides with no intention of slowing down. Sucking harder, fucking faster—you keen at the added stimulation, back arching clean off the bed in blinding pleasure, unable to do anything more than let out jagged sobs as you cum.

Your entire body grows taut as he sees you through the end of this high, before finally drawing out with one last sleight of his hand, so that his fingertips might graze along the velvet top of your walls, bidding farewell with another shudder-inducing wave of euphoria. He exits his soiled digits, clearly pleased as he inspects the amount of slick that coats his elegant hand. 

“You’re absolutely divine.” He hums whilst licking up the side of his wrist, so as not to waste a single drop of your liquid pleasure. It’s intoxicating how exquisite you are, more decadent than even the most pristine of waters. “Perhaps you’d like a taste?”

His offer is rhetorical at best, as he answers for you, already slipping his slender fingers into your open mouth, tangling them with your tongue, until the first bits of drool begin to dribble from your lips. 

He unties your wrists, releasing them from the ribbon’s hold; time and experience have proven that you’ll need something to grasp onto. In a haste, Neuvillette discards what remains of his clothes, and his cock springs forward in all its glory: long and thick, pale tip leaking and thrumming with desire. 

“You’re absolutely sure… ?” he mumbles, voice trailing off, almost embarrassed. He can no longer control the way his hips twitch in excitement, begging to bury his cock into your warmth, but for his gentle heart’s sake, he needs to hear you say it again.

You laugh out a soft ‘yes’ but just for good measure, you rake your nails down his chest, applying just enough pressure to tickle his nerves. “Use me,” you goad. “Come on. Be wicked, my dragon.” 

Neuvillette exhales, chuckling softly at humanity's arrogance. Wicked dragon. If that was what you wanted... “I wonder if you’d still say the same after I’ve finished with you.”

He pins you back down in one fell move, and aligns himself to your entrance, stopping after inserting only the tip. A delicate whimper leaves your lips as you wince at that familiarly sweet stretch, but you and your little cunt are both so eager to please—the continued arousal you churn out, weeping nonstop, and already clenching around just his cockhead. You wriggle into him, trying to fuck yourself deeper on his fat cock as you adjust to his size. 

Reaching up, you pull him into a seemingly reassuring kiss, hands smoothing over the framing pieces of his hair, before curving around his jaw. His lips follow yours, but as you pull away and the short pieces of his hair fall back into place, you notice how his slitted reptilian pupils are dilated almost round. 

“You wish for me not to hold back,” his voice comes in a low growl as he inches further into your cunt, “so please show me how resilient you are.”

It’s all the warning you receive before he slides the rest of his length to the hilt, burying himself in your creamy insides. A shattered sob tears through the room, and your arms fly around his neck in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself, but it only pulls him closer as he leans more of his weight into you, pressing down and reinforcing the heavy plow of his merciless hips. 

Taking him all at once like this burns like wildfire. Pain from the sudden, rough stretch spreads hot and fast, the small embers bursting into a blaze of arousal as pleasure breezes through just as quickly—like air infinitely adding to an already devouring flame. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, turning his head to reward a small kiss to your cheek. Your hole gushes, rushing to quell the heat, and the added lubrication helps you settle into his pace. Still, the dual sensations wash over you like the tide. It pulls you under, drowns you and consumes you with absolute ecstasy.

And just when you think you’ve grown accustomed, Neuvillette lifts your hips, aiming for the spot he knows will drag out the most wonderfully broken cries from your throat. Your nails dig into his back, and he groans at the vice grip as you clamp down around his cock. With each powerful thrust, he buries himself balls deep with a force that has your tits bouncing along to his rhythm, letting the wanton sound of your sobs ring throughout the room, loud enough to almost drown out the lewd noise of skin slapping upon skin. 

The coil in your belly is wound so tight that you’re sure it won’t be long until it collapses into itself. That it won’t be long until you yourself are about to implode, like a star ready to burst. 

“I’m going… going to…” Between the ragged breaths and the overwhelming sensations of ecstasy, you can’t even find it in yourself to think straight.

Neuvillette hums, his liquid smooth voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You’d do well not to break so soon.”

He thumbs your clit, drawing tight circles, ignoring the way you convulse beneath him. As your back arches, he drags the flat of his teeth from the edges of your collarbones, down through the valley between your breasts. 

Your entire body quivers, legs jolting by reflex to the intensity of your orgasm, vision blurring white as your lover continues to pound relentlessly through your high. There’s a layer of fuzziness over your mind that leaves you feeling as if you’re floating atop calm waters, but the fingers still thrumming on your abused nub are quick to drag you back into the salaciously dangerous depths of your own pleasure. 

A string of pitched whines follow in the aftermath, but the pretty noises you make has him throbbing even from within your tight hole. You ask him not to hold back, yet here you are before him, so small and pitiful, already writhing from the intensity—and he hasn’t even cum yet. 

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, your body struggling for a break from the stimulation, but Neuvillette finds it quite adorable, in the way that a predator might toy with its prey. He slows his thrusts, but reaches deeper with every roll of his hips, each languid stroke hitting the exact spot that fills your sight with stars. 

The lascivious sounds of your soaked cunt perfectly swallowing his cock, followed by the slap of his heavy balls on your ass—he’s mesmerized by the way he disappears and reappears, and disappears again inside of you. His heart skips, and he bucks, breaking his rhythm. You undo him like no other, and it spurs him on that he too, seems to have the same effect on you. The way your pussy holds on to him so tightly, the helpless cries of his name amidst your hiccuped whimpering… 

He lets out a small chuckle, breath hot and ragged in your ear as he sucks at the inch of skin below. “Surely you can give me another,” he murmurs, the low grumble of his voice reverberating all the way down, until you can feel the vibrations in the hollows of your collarbone. 

Your eyes flutter, desperately blinking away the wetness that has begun to gather at your lash line. Sweet Neuvillette, your Neuvillette who reveres you more than he ought to and touches you like you’re made of glass. Even through the numbing haze, you know that for him, you’d give anything. 

A long, stuttered moan breaks out from between your lips. As if biding his time, he drags the entirety of his cock along your walls, the large vein that wraps around the length gliding along just right, that your back arches and your knees bend. It’s not that he means to move so tortuously slow, but you squeeze him to such an extent that in spite of his aching need to cum, he cannot help but try and savor the delicious way your walls are gripping for dear life. 

Neuvillette pulls out with the sticky squish of your slick. His throbbing cock, long and flushed, glistens with the sheen of your juices. In the emptiness, you think that perhaps he’s taken pity on you and your now overly sensitive cunt, but that just isn’t fair. Not to him, nor you and your once again looming orgasm.

“You haven’t even cum yet,” you gasp, trying to argue through baited breath. The whole point of this was so that he could feel just as good as he always made sure you did. So why would he—

“I know.” 

You can feel him as he lifts you, flipping you over like you’re nothing more than a doll, and manhandles you onto all fours. Limbs weak, mind frazzled, you’re barely able to hold yourself up, so when he realigns himself at your entrance and slams back through your folds with just as much power as before, you quite literally fall apart. 

“Too much?” The low chuckle in your ear is dangerously taunting, wickedly amused and with no sign of its usual sweetness. You’re able to muster a pitiful whine, but the way your entire body trembles tells him everything he needs to know, as he reangles you mid-thrust.

“I believe you said you could take it.” With a particularly powerful snap of his hips, your arms buckle, and you collapse onto the mattress. The intensity continues to send you jolting forward, but his reaffirmed grip on your waist holds your hips in place.

Nothing deters him as he ruts into you, hitting deep new angles that have your fingers grasping at the sheets while your cunt grasps onto his cock. With every slap of his skin against yours, his tip threatens to kiss your cervix, the aftershocks rippling through you until they’re released as broken sobs, muffled into the bed. 

How unfortunate that such noises, so very sweet to his ears, would be hidden from the world. Tangling his fingers along your scalp, Neuvillette tugs at your hair, lifting your head back so as to hear the pretty melody you sing when your cries ring around the room. Good. Just as the whole of Fontaine should recognize a dragon’s mark on your skin, they too should hear it’s he who pleasures your body so.

Little bits of drool trickle out of your open mouth, your eyes rolling back as he keeps up the brutal pace. Everything feels too overwhelming, yet so tantalizingly good, that your back curves and you’re creaming around him again. 

Electricity shoots through your veins, your lungs desperately racing to catch up with the rapid beat of your heart. The stars painted across your vision drop down to your stomach, exploding with an intensity that rattles you to your core. It’s a flood with no remorse—taking and leaving nothing in return, easily washing away any and all thoughts, until you’re left mewling the name of the only one who could ever give you such a sweet taste of heaven. 

But Neuvillette continues to thrust into you, and as he, too, nears his peak, his tireless strokes finally melt into something a little more forgiving. Just a little. The long drag of his cock slides so smoothly against your slick walls, gentle enough to fool your delirious mind into loosening your grip around him. 

What trickery from the wicked dragon who slams his hips forward with enough force so that your body jostles with every push and pull as he hits all the right spots again and again. Trapped under the weight of his body, all you can do is feel: the heat of the room smothering all your senses, the fervorous thrusts pushing you to your very limit—all you can do is feel and take it as he kisses the spongy head of your cervix, leaving you without a semblance of sanity, blabbering indiscernible nothings that beg to milk him dry.       

“Want more,” you keen, voice as broken as the crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks and melt into the pillows. “Inside. Wan’ it inside.”

Neuvillette laughs, low and airy, strained as his grip tightens, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough that it’d be sure to leave bruises come the morrow. “Is that what you want?”

“Please, please I–” You stop to let out something between a pant and a moan. “Want you to, h-hah, cum inside, wan’ your cum inside me.” Your walls clamp down even harder, as if attempting to trap his cock deep inside you forever, as if you weren’t already tight enough around him. 

White fills his vision, and white fills your womb as Neuvillette cums to the knowledge that you love this. He takes in the sight of you, his precious treasure, now reduced to the likes of a common whore: legs quivering, ass in the air, cunt filled to the brim and leaking from where the two of you merge. All for him. By his doing. 

Such splendor automatically evokes the instinct to claim you in a way far beyond that of human understanding… but you’ve already let him indulge more than enough tonight; he couldn’t possibly ask for more. 

You whimper when you feel him stir again inside you, careful as he brushes past your too-sensitive folds, but even such simple movements hazard to relight the flicker of arousal once again. Every ridge and vein, drawn out so agonizingly slow, sends an inadvertent shiver down your spine until he finally pulls out with a squelch.  

There’s no hope in tearing those sharp, reptilian eyes away from your puffy cunt, abused and messy and leaking with your combined fluids. Neuvillette sucks in a breath, trying to suppress his urges as much as he’s trying to swallow down the desire quickly boiling over in his belly again. Cumming inside you—no, breeding you—was a privilege. For dragons such as he, it’s a ritual reserved only for mates, and given the difference in your physiology, he had never allowed himself to do so—at least not until now, that is. 

In his defense, you had begged for it, and how could he ever deny the very one whom he has entrusted his heart to—especially when you were so beautifully fucked out and unraveled on his cock like that. And perhaps he’s lived among humans long enough to forgive this indulgence as a paradigm of fleeting desire, though nothing of what he feels for you could ever be considered fleeting. 

He parts your folds with two slender fingers, giving himself a better view as his cum now seeps out with suent access. You whine again when you feel him drag his digits down the sides of your pussy lips, catching the overflow before it can fall onto the sheets, and stuffing it right back into your little hole. No point in stopping now, if he’s already committed his sin.

From your half-lidded gaze, you manage to steal a glance at your lover, and judging from the erection that still stands stiff as a rod, he has yet to be satiated. In the attempt to break through the shadow of delirium, you lift your head, shifting your weight back onto your elbows, and forcing your battered body to turn just the slightest bit over. 

“You’re still hard,” you note through staggered breath, “We can go again if you want.”

Neuvillette looks down as if he hasn’t already been feeling the near painful arousal throbbing in his groin. Of course he’s still hard—how could he not be; you’re so complacent before him, offering yourself to him like that. But perhaps he is too soft-hearted, for he only lets out a reassuring hum as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“You were beyond perfect tonight,” he murmurs. “It… might not be pleasurable for you if I continue anymore. I can finish myself.” 

Lovestruck, you shake your head. “I can take it r’member?” Your large eyes, red-rimmed and dreamy, plead for him to use you—use you to his own content, use you so that he’d feel just as good as he always makes you feel. You nibble at your bottom lip, bashful. “You can even use your other form if you'd like...” 

Your words catch him off guard, and he immediately stills in a half-hearted attempt to collect himself as another wave of pure, unadulterated desire pulses through his entire being. Neuvillette swallows hard before letting out a slow, shaky breath. His cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath the creamy skin that now seems to gleam with a soft shine, revealing scattered patches of effervescent cerulean scales. You affect him more than you could possibly know, revitalizing such carnal urges that ignore his will and allow his body to react so enthusiastically.

“You’re sure…?” His normally polished tone is husked in a defiant strain. Despite the way his pupils are blown wide and wild with lust, conflict still swims in the shallows of his expression, made clear by the way his voice rasps as he desperately claws to retain even a semblance of his composure. 

The tips of your fingers trace the blue streaks that protrude from the crown of his silver head, now hardened into twin ribbons of ivory; his horns, delicate but strong, glow a luminescent azure—so warm and inviting in its radiance… You grasp them tight, pulling him down with you, as you fall back into the bed, his lips pressed against yours. Of course you’re sure. He’d never hurt you, your Neuvillette would never ever hurt you.

“Devious…” he whispers between kisses, your tongue and teeth clashing in a waltz of their own, as his body drapes over yours. 

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him in this form, crossed somewhere between a human and a dragon, as beautiful as he is powerful. But it’s certainly the first time you’ve ever attempted to take him like this. He’s bigger in this form—you can already feel it as he grinds up between your legs. Longer. Thicker. Ribbed and embossed with the same pearlescent blue scales. Beautifully intimidating, just like the dragon sovereign himself. 

And as you continue to marvel, he lets his cock rest across your lower stomach, sizing you up. His fervor shines through in the way he’s already leaking a mess of sticky precum atop the smooth skin of your belly. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, clearly enthused. 

“This is how deep I’ll be,” he muses, almost apologetic of the incoming stretch you’d have to endure. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even fit inside you.” 

Would it be wicked of him to admit, even to himself, that he enjoys the way you wriggle and cry just taking him in his human form? And yet… he’s forced to steady his breathing in a poor attempt at grounding himself—a task near impossible as you roll your hips up, ardently shaking your head no, outright ignoring the last out he offers.

“I will… make it fit.” They’re the last words you manage to wrangle out before being overtaken by the need to be full and filled. There’s no reason you should be so terribly, terribly hollow, when he’s right there. Neuvillette chokes back a laugh; your unyielding determination sends blood rushing to his erection, desperate to feel your velvet walls crowd around him again.

Finally relenting, he teases your entrance—running his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness, before slapping your clit with the tip—reminding you just how sensitive you still are. Gasping, you jerk away from the stimulation that once again taunts your nerves. Your hole, however, clenches around nothing, eager to please. 

But perhaps you’ve greatly underestimated just how big he is, because he barely makes it past the threshold of your folds, before the pleasure pain of the stretch begins to take over. That, and the overstimulation from your previous orgasms, already have you instinctively trying to snap your legs shut, but the firm hold on your thighs forbid you from doing so.

“Ha-ah N-neuvi—” A twisted sense of pride swells in his chest at the way you can hardly speak as your breath hitches and your lungs desperately search for air. “’s too big,” you sob.

He gives you a momentary reprieve to adjust, while his hand snakes down to run sloppy circles over your clit.

“More?” he whispers. 

It takes you a minute to respond, but he waits until finally your voice shakes with the violence of each hiccupped sob. “More.. please…”

A baritone hum sounds in his throat as he pulls forward, pressing wet kisses to your jaw in a quiet reassurance, effectively sliding a couple inches deeper, as he does so. “You can take it, my love. You’re so pretty like this.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, your hold eliciting a long, low groan from the dragon. Wherever you squirm, he follows, pressing more of his weight onto you, burying more of his cock into you. Each ridged inch that slides past your folds, seems to push the thoughts right out of your head, letting them dissipate into thin air until you’re left mindlessly moaning sweet praises to his name. 

Desperate to accommodate the unfamiliar enormity of his dragon cock, your walls ripple and tense around him, back arching into him, wanting to feel ever closer to the love of your life, determined to push your cunt to its limit for him. For your Neuvillette. 

Neuvillette. Neuvillette. Neuvillete. He’s all you can think about; him and his monster cock that seems to split you so deliciously open. It’s wave after wave of heat that sets your insides ablaze, soothed by the waters of arousal that have you begging for more, and restarting the cycle until he finally bottoms out, and you feel as if you’ve been electrified. You squeeze your eyes shut, but with the way his bulbous tip prods at your cervix, your mind goes blank, and the tears fall regardless. 

“There…” you pant, eyes glassy from the euphoria of feeling so incredibly full. “’s all in.”

“Yes,” he praises, softly. “Look at you, so nice and tight for me.” 

He wipes the salt from your cheeks, distracting you with a delicate kiss. His fangs are more prominent in this form; you can feel them as he grins against your lips, whilst whispering breathy nothings that tell of how good you are for him, how perfect, how he should be so lucky to have you like this, to have you as his. 

When your body eases enough, he pulls away, though the subtle shift of his cock still drags a pitched whine out from your lips. If he’s to be honest, he cannot tear his gaze from where the two of you are joined. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotic, to see how he splits you open, to feel how you mold into the shape of him, to imagine just how much your little cunt had to stretch so that he might rest comfortably inside.

Though, comfortable might be an overstatement due to the way your muscles tense and release so tightly around him, clamoring for more of his attention.  Eyes darkening with lust, Neuvillette smooths a hand over your abdomen, cerulean scales cold upon your skin.

“Can you feel me right…” He draws a clawed finger delicately across the skin of your belly, where his cock rests parallel underneath. “Here…”

He leaves more than just a faint line of red where his talon rakes. Yes, you want to say. You can feel the faint prickle of his claw on your skin, you can feel how the sharpness sends a shiver ringing through your body, and of course you can feel how he’s sheathed his dragon cock right into the very depths of your cunt, deeper than anyone’s ever been, deeper than he’s ever been… But the only sounds that spill through your lips are another stream of broken sobs, fever touched by how close you are to cumming just from being filled.

“Go on, darling. Cum for me.” He can feel you pulsing around him, clenching and unclenching in search of sweet release, yet he makes no additional moves to help you, leaving you to your own devices.

At this point, you can no longer tell if you’re making things better or worse, as every little movement knocks you into reaction—like dominoes toppling over until every piece of you has been unraveled. You writhe atop the soiled sheets for any sort of friction, but it’s too much when his tip knocks against the entrance to your womb. So you shift away, letting the ridges on his shaft graze against your syruped walls, inciting another wave of need. The scales continue to tip between ‘too much’ and ‘more’, until you finally work yourself into a delirious orgasm, on nothing but his cock inside you and your own incessant squirming. 

As you continue to ride out your high, Neuvillete finally begins to move, tearing himself away from your fluttering vice grip with a tremulous moan, because fuck you’re still so tight around him, still so warm and wet even after cumming for what? The fourth time tonight? Pressure lands heavy over your frame as he begins to rock into you, folding you in half as he does. 

He fucks you slow and even, stretching you out even more with every new stroke. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as this new position affords him the privilege to reach impossibly deeper. Despite his shallow thrusts, each drag of his cock still blooms an ache from all the hidden spots that he has no choice but to touch, though it’s quick to pass, as pleasure continues to coil in your belly. 

It’s so much all at once. You can’t take it, it’s too much. But the soul-shattering euphoria of being so utterly full, is unparalleled. You want more, you need more.   

“My pearl,” he whispers, though his voice is gruff, “my heart… I want to hear you.” 

And so you oblige him, wailing something broken and pitched and strangled, at the sudden snap of his hips, at the way he bumps into your cervix and seems to rattle your organs about. 

“F-fuck,” you cry, without thinking. Not that you can anyway, when the push-pull tide of his thrusts raises you to new heights of delirium. “H-ah god, fuck Neu–”

Another sharp, jutting thrust cuts you off as the dragon above you snarls, clearly agitated by your crass choice of words. “There are no gods to help you here.” Not in Fontaine where he rules, and certainly not here in his home.

There’s a feral wildness that shines in his bright vishap eyes, and his possessive streak flares—dragons have no natural inclination to share after all. It’s clear in the way his pace changes: faster, harsher, more ragged—a ferocity befitting of an elemental dragon ruler. But titles aside, he’s still your Neuvillette, and every move he makes is still laced with a tenderness, so as not to break you more than he already has. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands, dragging his tongue up the length of your throat.

“Yours. ‘m yours, Neuvillette.”

In and out, in and out. His long strokes guide the ridges of his cock back and forth through your tender muscles, leaving you to mumble mindless nonsense as you convulse and keen beneath him. Whatever pain you had felt earlier has long chipped away into undeniable pleasure as you near the precipice of yet another orgasm. Eyes glazed over in all consuming ecstasy, all you know to do is to chase your lust, and so your hips grind back, rolling together like waves in a storm. 

Amidst the flagrant wet sounds of your rabid fucking, you cum again, lashes fluttering as your eyes roll, muscles tight as they tremble from such rapture—so lovely, so beautiful. Your siren call of pretty cries spill from your lips, intermingled with weak babbles of his name. You’re so breathtaking like this in your post-climax haze: fucked out and cloudy-eyed, panting into the cool air as his slowed thrusts still rack up an aftershock of shudders.

Neuvillette bows his head, once again trailing wet kisses across your collarbones, before pausing to hover his lips right over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breath a familiar spot of comfort in this maddening pleasure. Perhaps it’s some sort of sixth sense unique to only the most attuned of lovers, ones whose souls seem to harmonize in perfect resonance, but there’s hesitance in the way he suckles at the spot, fangs ghosting over your tender skin.

“S’okay… you can do it.” Your soft, dreamy sighs of approval are accompanied by the languid tilt of your neck, jeopardizing more of your delicate skin to the dangers of his teeth. “You can mark me… w’nna be your mate…”

Choking back a moan, Neuvillette pistons thrice more into your cunt—pulling out until just his tip remains, and then plunging back into your gooey insides, sending you into another round of dizzying convulsions. His own orgasm follows, seeing stars as he places an amorous bite to the crook of your neck using only the flat of his teeth. 

With how deep he’s buried, ribbons of his cum shoot right into your womb, spilling out into every cavity, and painting your interior white. Warmth blossoms from the inside out. Your heart is full, mumbling happy nothings of ‘mates’ in between sniffles, while a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, thick liquid oozing from where he ends and you begin. His own chest rises and falls in jagged patterns, but his only want is to seek your lips, to drink in your mewls, and exchange sweet kisses, so that your soul and his, may meld together as they dance in the shape of your breaths intertwined.

He strokes your hair, planting easy kisses all around as he unplugs himself, letting loose the flood of cum that seeps out of your hole, but you whine at the loss, wanting nothing more than to be ever close to your newly consummated mate. Neuvillette only nuzzles into your neck, deep purrs of content reverberating from his chest as he lazily rubs his scent all over you. Meanwhile, a quick swish of his sapphire tail up the sticky underside of your thigh, teases another pulse from your cunt, and by reflex, you push out another dollop of white. 

A small tap tap to his shoulder distracts him from his scenting, and he looks up with a tilt to his head and a small furrow to his brow, his normally sharp eyes full of earnest concern, relaxing only once he finishes reading through the bleary, dulcet tones of adoration that glow in your half-lidded eyes. You poorly suppress your little giggles—although he often disagrees, your lover really can be quite adorable. 

Fontaine’s Iudex Neuvillette is elegant, poised, and meticulously polished… but here in the quiet night hours, in the privacy of your hearth, your Neuvillette is unruly-haired and damp-skinned from satiating the beastly desires of his still tender heart. You reach out a tired arm, first brushing back the pieces of hair that cling to his skin, then wrapping your palm around to cup his face. 

“Was I a good mate?” Your hand slips down from his cheek to play with the tips of his silvery hair. “W’nna be the best for you.”

“You already are the best for me.” His hand, no longer clawed nor scaled, brings yours back up for a kiss to your knuckles. “The only one for me.” 

He rolls off of you, sweeping you into his embrace, as he carries you off to the bathroom. Your head rests heavily against his chest, but your happy hums and quiet murmurs of ‘good,’ tell him that you have not drifted off into slumber just yet.  

“You truly are a wonder,” he breathes, dipping his head to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it would be my honor to have you as my mate… but not tonight.”

His instincts had urged him to do it, to permanently claim you as his, and mark you as a dragon would, but his heart vehemently disagrees. The most sacred bond known to his kind is an ultimatum in your relationship, and it is one he refuses to be the sole architect of, so perhaps the two of you can revisit this conversation again once you’re more clear-headed; his answer would remain the same anyways.

a/n2: writing this took years off my life, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank u sm for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡

a/n3: here is a little visual of how i imagine the dress at the beginning to look like, but of course you can always imagine it however you like since i’ve purposely left it rather vague : )

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[uzurakis]

"babe, could you grab that thing for me?"

your body came to a halt for a brief minute, and you looked up from your phone to find that he was not paying attention either. "what did you just say to me?" you asked, your eyebrows quirking in amusement.

"oh," megumi suddenly realised, "i think i didn't make it clear."

“my phone, could you grab my phone for me?"

your laughter filled the room as you shook your head; you aren't going to let him off the hook easily. "no, what you said before that." your boyfriend was bewildered and innocent. “what?"

“what’s with your face?”

“what about it?”

"megumi,” you chuckled between your words. “you just called me babe for the first time."

the man was unsure whether he had actually stated that out. although he has been thinking about it, he was hesitant to start calling you in an endearing way. "that," he objected, attempting to preserve "i did not." he said, hiding his humiliation and the tingling sensation on his face.

you insisted with a grin. "you did."

"i didn't." you didn’t believe he’s still denying, though his blushing betrayed his words.

"but you're red."

"i'm not!”

"fine, whatever you say." you finally relented, handling him his phone. “here, babe."

"shut it." god, megumi is so frustrated, the man can't even look at you, and he's hiding his face as well. even though the endearment made his heart skip a beat, he doesn't want you to know.

however, you will not pass up this opportunity.

"only under one condition," you said, with a wicked grin you had been attempting to conceal. "you call me that again and i'll stop teasing—“

“no!”

it took every bit of him not to surrender to your quirks. nevertheless, he still took the bait. he understood very well he cannot win against you on this one. megumi took a deep breath before saying..

“babe…"

a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “say it again."

"you said you'll stop!" megumi frowns as your laughter bubbled the room.

“i didn't say when though."

n. brainrotting so so bad about this one. i’m a firm believer megumi just subconsciously says whatever he feels and thinks out of the blue and won’t admit it afterwards. it just comes out very natural from his liking (you always took advantage of these moments lmao) — requests are open!

@uzurakis

[sadhours]

Wicked Sensation

part eighteen // billy hargrove x f!reader

find all chapters here

tag list: @blue-eyed-lion @bbyhargrove @sweet-villain @actuallyspencerreid @trapistani @sierrahhh @likeanimagepassingby2

a/n: sorry this one is kind of short!! I’m working on the next chapter as we speak. my requests are open!! send me some angst and fluff 😘

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, I think the only warning I need to give is a Neil mention

“I can’t believe you haven’t asked her yet,” Drew shakes his head as he’s helping Billy empty the oil from the bottom of a Buick.

The bit is stripped and Billy’s prepped a new one to take its place. He’s frustrated already from the extra work he has to do and the question only makes it worse, he fumbles with the ratchet extra hard and it feels it give, raising his hand to unscrew the cap and oil spills all over his hand. He used to be able to do it without making a mess but all this pressure to propose to you has turned Billy into a bumbling, clumsy idiot.

“God damnit,” he curses, tossing the stripped bit in the trash and reaching for the cloth to clean off his hand.

Your dad just had to tell everyone that Billy was going to ask you to marry him. He likes Drew, he’s been the one guy Billy’s gotten close to these past four months. He would’ve told him on his own. Drew was close to Billy’s age and they usually got the same shifts, doing the same duties. They’d started hanging out outside of work, Billy going over to his house to watch sports and drink a few beers. It’s the first time Billy’s had a male friend he didn’t feel like he had to impress all the time or compete with in some way.

Billy watches as the almost completely black oil drips out of the car, cringing at the thought of going so long without changing his Camaro’s oil, “I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

Drew chuckles, “That’s the thing, you have to make the right moment. If you keep waiting then she’s gonna already have popped the baby out. You better hurry, Dale’s starting to think you’ve changed your mind.”

Billy hadn’t, and he had. He kept going back in fourth and that’s why he’d had the ring for a month now. Especially since you’d insisted on hanging out with Eddie more frequently now and Billy knows that’s stupid and you’ve been friends your entire lives but he’s possessive and unfortunately is threatened by any man. He knows he needs to work on that and he’s trying.

Marriage scared him but he couldn’t fathom being with any other woman for the rest of his life so he knew he had to marry you. He felt a bit stupid for not asking already, but whenever he was about to, something always interrupted it. Billy was literally about to this morning after you sucked his dick but then his alarm went off and he took it as a sign not to. Which he knew was dumb, you looked so pretty in between his legs and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, smiling up at him.

“I’m gonna do it soon,” he mumbled, grabbing the replacement cap and tightening back on the car. “Ready for ya!” he called up to let the guys upstairs know they could get started on the new oil.

He glances to the clock and then sees you with your dad walking down the stairs.

“Do it now,” Drew suggests, his voice low.

“I don’t have the ring with me,” Billy replies sheepishly, which was a lie. He kept it in his pocket everyday, waiting for the right moment.

Drew points to his pants, “So you’re just happy to see me then? You have a box shaped dick. How am I the single one?”

“Shut up,” Billy groans, blushing hard as he walks over to the sink to wash his hands.

Once they’re clean he meets you and your dad at the bottom of the stairs. He looks down at his dirty uniform and then up at your pretty white dress. He grimaces and settles for grabbing your hand and leaning in to kiss you.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks, smiling wide.

You look over at him, confused and then up at your dad, “My dad said you wanted to take me to lunch, you asked him to call home?”

Dale grins from ear and to ear and Billy has to hold back the roll of his eyes. Everyone keeps pushing and pushing him.

“Take an extended lunch,” your dad says as Billy grabs your hand and leads you back upstairs.

“Everyone’s acting so weird,” you complain.

“Tell me about it,” he sighs as he walks you to his Camaro.

You smile as he opens your door, “You know something I don’t?”

Yes, Will you marry me? He thinks but instead shakes his head.

And he still doesn’t ask you, he brings you to a diner and you talk about work. You’d gotten a receptionist job at a salon and Billy listens as you complain about customers and a few of the hairdressers. He complains about the stripped bolt but he can’t ask you to marry him and he doesn’t know why. He gets sick to his stomach every time he reaches in his pocket and grasps the box.

When he gets back to the shop after dropping you off, your dad and Drew look at him hopeful but he shrugs.

“No dice,” he groans, “You guys are making me too nervous.”

Drew rolls his eyes, “You know she’s going to say yes.”

Your dad sighs, “Better sooner than later. Five months isn’t a long time to plan a wedding, ya know.”

-

When he finally does ask, it’s because he has no choice. He’s taking off his pants to get into bed and you’re standing behind him, already changed into your nightgown as you’re taking off your earrings, when you see the box tumble out of his pocket and onto the floor.

“What’s that?” you ask, nonchalantly.

Billy heaves a sigh and kicks his pants the rest of the way off, he reaches down for the box and then gets down on one knee. You feel your body light up, stomach rising like you’re about to drop on a roller coaster. He displays the box to you and pops it open, it’s a very simple ring with a small diamond. You gasp, dropping your earring to the floor and cover your mouth.

“I didn’t want to do this without my pants on, but uh, here we are,” he mumbles and you notice how red his cheeks are and you can see the vein in his temple that you only see when he’s nervous or angry. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh, my god…” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks before you realize they’re there.

You don’t answer him quick enough and Billy squeezes his eyes shut, closing the box and is about to push himself back up.

“Wait!” you squeal, reaching your hand out to him, “Yes! Of course I will!”

“Oh thank Jesus,” he lets out a breath and opens the box again, “God, you scared me.”

He takes the ring out and slides it onto your left ring finger. As soon as it’s on there, you’re pulling him up and kissing him. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, you cling onto his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist.

“You thought I would say no?” you ask him, dumbfounded between kisses.

Billy looks into your eyes, “It crossed my mind.”

Fate, he thinks, he was waiting for a moment like this when he had no other option but to ask you and maybe it’s not the biggest gesture, but he figures it’ll make a good story.

“How long have you been waiting?” you wonder aloud, squeezing him as tight as you can.

Billy sets you back down but holds your hands, “I bought the ring a month ago.”

“That’s why everyone’s been so weird,” you realize, “Especially you.”

Billy laughs, “I have not been weird.”

“You looked like you’re about to puke every five minutes whenever you’re around me,” you argue, pulling him to the bed and laying back on it. Billy lays beside you and holds your hip.

“You have no idea how anxious I’ve been. And everyone’s been bugging me about it too,” he mumbles, his lips ghosting against your chin.

He feels so warm, you curl into him. The baby bump has taken some adjusting, you’re always freaked out you’re gonna accidentally hurt the baby by laying the wrong way.

“Oh, my appointment changed,” you remember, “It’s Friday now.”

“Okay, I’ll switch the days around for work,” Billy mumbles but he knows your dad doesn’t care about scheduling when it comes to the baby. “It’s gonna be a boy, ya know.”

You roll your eyes, holding his hand and looking down at the pretty ring on your finger. It feels surreal, like you shouldn’t be having such a normal conversation after you’ve just got engaged. That’s what it was like with Billy, though. Easy. It felt like you could just let things happen.

You press your lips into his, letting go of his hand to grab his shirt and pull him even closer. It’s lazy but sweet, stroking each other where you can while placing sleepy kisses on each others lips.

-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Billy screams from behind the wheel of his Camaro, stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. Which is pretty odd for this time of day on this particular road in Hawkin’s.

“Hey,” you purr, rubbing his thigh, “It’s okay. They’ll still see us if we’re a little late.”

Billy knows it’s true but he feels like it’s his fault that you two will be late. He had to stop for cigarettes and gas this morning because he was too exhausted to do it on his way home last night. Billy doesn’t like being late, a side effect of being raised by Neil, who instilled in him that punctuality is one of the most important traits you can have. So whenever he finds himself running a few minutes late it fills him with immense anxiety. Your hand on his thigh kind of helps it, but a cigarette might help more. He’d tried to stop smoking in the car with you but since your doctor recommended you didn’t quit smoking and just cut back, he figures it’s fine and lights one up. The rush of nicotine helps, but he’s still rubbernecking to figure out the cause of the traffic.

As it picks up and Billy is able to start inching forward, he lets out a hearty laugh.

“Harrington wrecked his daddy’s BMW,” he announces with another cackle.

You sit up, “Is he okay?”

Billy looks to you, a little peeved that you care, “Yeah, he’s fucking fine. He’s just an idiot.”

“Billy,” you sigh, but are afraid to push further given the history.

As you pass, you see Steve standing outside his car, looking down at the smashed front end of his car. He sees Billy’s car, it’s hard not to and sees you sitting in the front seat with him. Steve had figured you two had gotten back together since your trip and because he hadn’t heard from you since before it. Billy wonders if Steve knows your pregnant, wants to scream it out the window at him like it’s some competition he’s won. Steve lifts a hand and waves awkwardly, catching the pair of eyes in the Camaro staring back at him. Yours look concerned while Billy’s look sadistically amused, smirk smeared across his lips to match.

“Nice job, Harrington,” Billy calls out of the window as you pass and you lean over to smack his bicep.

“Knock it off,” you tell him, crossing your arms.

Billy scoffs, flicking his cigarette out the window as the road opens up and he can speed like he wants to.

Any animosity between the two of you dissolves as you sit in the exam room. You’re laid on your back with your shirt pulled up to expose your growing belly, Billy sat in the chair beside you with his hand in yours. He smiles warmly down at you as the doctor smears that jelly stuff on your stomach and begins the ultrasound.

“Everything’s looking good so far,” she confirms. She carries through the exam as usual, it’s like any other appointment you’ve had in the past month but this one is special for a specific reason.

“So,” Billy starts, “It’s a boy, right?”

The doctor laughs softly, maneuvering the handle on the machine to see the baby at a different angle. If Billy’s honest, it looks like an alien’s inside you but hey, it’s his alien in there so he still thinks it’s cute.

“Bad news, dad,” the doctor teases, glancing up at Billy and then you.

“It’s a girl?!” you ask excitedly.

“Sure is,” the doctor smiles, pointing her pinky up to show the two of you.

Billy’s excited anyways. He didn’t really care too much about the gender. With each appointment, he gets more and more thrilled about becoming a father and starting this family with you. He squeezes your hand and smiles at you, silently expressing how he’s feeling. He wasn’t great at talking about it, especially around strangers.

He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you walk to the car, planting kisses on your cheek and neck. He lets you know how excited he is without words.

“Wanna grab some lunch?” he asks, “Before I take you back to work?”

You nod, turning to him as he opens the passenger door for you. He looks into your eyes and places his knuckle under your chin, pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss.

As the two of you walk into the small restaurant, you see Stephanie before Billy does and she sees Billy before she sees you. You’ve got your left arm intertwined with his, your fingers laced and your right hand holding his bicep but still, Stephanie somehow doesn’t notice you as she perks up.

“Billy! I haven’t seen you in so long!” she gushes, “Hi!”

“Oh, I didn’t know you worked here,” he says, sounding a little flustered as he looks down at you but you just grin up at him. If he could still have beef with Steve then you don’t see why you can’t keep your little feud with Stephanie going.

“Yeah! Here, sit in my section!” she sounds excited and then her eyes follow Billy’s, seeing you standing next to him and her eyes fall to your pregnant belly on full display. “Oh, my god. You guys got back together… and you’re pregnant.”

You smile as sickly sweet as you can, lifting your left hand to display your engagement ring, “And we’re getting married.”

You swear you hear Billy chuckle, watching as Stephanie’s smile turns the opposite direction. Still, she leads you to a booth, putting on her best customer service voice.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

You wonder why she doesn’t just pawn you off on another server. Perhaps she’s too proud. Perhaps she just wants to take the opportunity to be a bitch and maybe you’re a little immature because as you sit there with a ring on your finger and Billy’s baby in you, you feel like you’ve won this competition. You got what she presumably wanted.

“Just water,” you smile up at her, hooking your ankles with Billy’s under the table.

“Yeah, waters fine,” Billy nods and reaches over the table to grab your hands, stroking his thumb along your knuckles.

“Have you been thinking about any names?” he asks, grinning up at you. You see Stephanie roll her eyes before walking away.

“I haven’t,” you admit, “The way you all were hoping for a boy kind of stunted that process a bit, I’ve been thinking of boy names.”

Billy laughs, “I’m happy either way, I was just messing around. I think your brother sincerely wanted a boy, though.”

You nod, agreeing with him. Your brother will surely be disappointed with the news.

“Well we’ve got some time to brainstorm,” he points out.

“Yeah, we should probably be planning the wedding,” you say with a heavy sigh. The date was a month away and while you’d already had all the big stuff planned, there was still so much to do. You’d wanted to shop for wedding dresses but you were scared you’d suddenly get really huge the day before the wedding. It was irrational. You’d only be five months along but you didn’t exactly know how any of this pregnancy stuff worked. Everyday you were learning. You’d experienced some morning sickness in the early months but nothing too extreme since. Except you were exhausted all the time and you found yourself getting super frustrated when Billy couldn’t read your mind. You just wanted him to know what you needed and exactly when you needed it. The other night, you kicked him when he didn’t understand that you wanted him to rub your feet.

His patience with you was incredibly shocking. At first, you’d figured it was because he hadn’t been around his dad in months but you slowly realized it was because he actually cared about you and was willing to put up with anything to make you happy. It was sweet and you’d have to find a way to show him how grateful you are.

“I feel like we should just show up,” Billy smirks, raising his brows, “I mean, that’s pretty much what I’m doing.”

You roll your eyes, “I can’t. Mary is having a very fun time but she wants to pretend it’s me doing all the planning. I just wanna plan the honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” Billy replies in surprise, “Are we having one of those?”

His surprise is because the both of you know it’s not exactly in the budget. Every penny you had saved was supposed to get you guys into a place together but you also had to start buying things for the baby. Billy got paid well at the shop but your receptionist gig didn’t help all that much. You’re lucky you’re dad hadn’t kicked you off the insurance and once you were married, you’d be switched over to the coverage Billy was offered. It still feels surreal, that you’ll be married to this gorgeous blonde sitting across from you.

“I mean, I want to,” you say, “Even if it’s something quick and cheap, I need to get away for a few days.”

Billy nods slowly, his brain turning over places you could go. Perhaps a weekend in a nice hotel in Indianapolis. He’s bringing your fingers up to his lips when Stephanie returns with the waters and to take your food order. During the rest of lunch, she’s making sweet comments to Billy and touching his shoulder every single time she gets to your table. You find it amusing more than anything, even though a small part of you worries this will be a constant occurrence throughout your marriage.

-

When Billy makes it back home after dropping you back at work, he’s surprised to find Max sitting at the kitchen table with Mary. He raises an eyebrow as he sets his keys down on the counter, “What’re you doing here?”

“What? I can’t check in on my step brother?” she replies, feigning innocence but Billy’s smarter than that.

“What does he want?”

Max scoffs, knowing that Billy would immediately see through the facade. She does care about him and she’s wanted desperately to see how he’s doing and get away from Neil too.

“He wanted me to come get information,” she admits and then crosses her arm, “but I also wanted to see how you were.”

“I’m better now that I’m not there,” Billy confesses, leaning against the counter and nodding to Mary as she squeezes his arm before leaving the two of them alone. “What’s he want to know?”

Max shrugs, “It was a long list, I don’t remember most of it. He thinks you’re going to run off to California.”

“If I could afford it, I would,” Billy sighs and sits at the table across from his step sister. Max gives him a sympathetic smile, she wants to go back too and maybe one day, she will. Neil was really quiet at first, in fact, he pretended he didn’t even have a son but as time passed, he nonstop talked about Billy. He rarely said nice things but Max could tell he missed his son. She’s sure Billy’s a lot better off at your house, your dad and Mary are nice and when Max stepped inside, it felt like a home. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time, she’s sure it’s been even longer for Billy.

“I know I’m supposed to find out if you’re getting married and if we’re invited,” she mumbles, drawing shapes in the table with her finger.

“We are but I don’t know if I want him there. I want you there,” he says with a smile, “How have you been, Max?”

Billy’s been worried sick that without him being the punching bag, Neil’s wrath has turned towards Susan or Max. He’s been guilty about it, knowing he wants to protect Max as best as he could.

“He doesn’t hurt us,” Max assures him, somehow seeing in his eyes that that’s what the question hidden underneath really was. Billy nods curtly, feeling a little lighter at the information but also bad about himself. His dad just didn’t like him or his mother, it wasn’t that he just couldn’t help himself.

“He talks about you constantly,” Max informs him after taking a deep breath. “I don’t blame you if you don’t care but I think he misses you.”

Billy’s conflicted. On one hand, that’s his dad and he loves him but on the other hand, his dad never showed him love or affection. He wants him to feel guilty, wants him to regret how he raised his son. These past months have been blissful. While he had stress, he didn’t have fear. He could spend his time doing whatever he wanted and no one said anything to him. Your dad and Mary were genuinely interested in getting to know him. He didn’t ever feel judged anymore.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he sighs, “I don’t think I’m ready to see him again and maybe I won’t ever be.”

Max nods and then moves to stand up but Billy says, “Hey, you don’t have to go. You can hang out. We can hang out. I’m sure Mary already told you, you’re always welcome but I mean it, Max. Whenever you want to come over here to get away from them, you can. And when we move, you can come hang out there. Maybe I can get some free babysitting out of you.”

Max laughs at that, “Thanks, Billy. I’ve got to go now, though. Plans with Lucas.”

Billy stands up and opens his arms, Max looks at him like he’s grown another head. They’ve never hugged before but she finds herself in his arms and hugs back, tightly.

[chikaras-garden]

Batboys as your sugar daddy

What’s the point of all this money if you don’t have someone to spend it on?

Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x fem!reader

Contains: Sugar daddies. Possessive, controlling men. Power imbalances. They’re all a little toxic. These relationships are not aspirational babes. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Dick’s.

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked.

BRUCE WAYNE 💋

“Wear the diamonds,” Bruce rumbles from behind you, lips right next to the shell of your ear. Before you can answer, his warm hands are already on your throat, and cool platinum touches your skin. A hundred diamonds arranged in three dainty layers sparkle in the low light of Bruce’s bedroom, clinging tightly to your neck.

With the choker clasped in place, one of Bruce’s hands traces up and down your neck while the other rests heavily on your hip, holding you flush against his chest. His touch is hypnotic, pulling you in like a planet pulls a moon into orbit. Your whole world revolves around him—and that’s exactly how he likes it.

But like the moon, the subtle gravitational pull you have on him keeps him in place, keeps him stable, calms his most wicked of storms.

He bows his head. The way he looks at you through his eyelashes is almost reverent while he kisses your bare shoulder, skin interrupted only by your dress’s hair-thin silk strap.

“Beautiful,” he says, and you know he’s not talking about the necklace, the dress, or any of the other jewels and silks he’s drowned you in over the last year.

When your eyes meet in the mirror, one corner of his lips quirks up into a smirk, which he buries under a kiss to your jaw. 

There, with a quick, sharp nip of his teeth, he lays his claim. “And all mine.”

DICK GRAYSON 💋

Dick’s on his knees, head buried between your legs when you hear—feel—him say, “I need you to take a week off work.”

Well. What he really needs is for you to just quit your job already, but you got upset the last time he suggested it. Baby steps. For now.

“Why?” you gasp, blinking hard as you try to focus on the fact that he’s starting a conversation now when his tongue is making you smart and shake with pleasure.

“I want to go to the Maldives,” he says as if it’s the most inconsequential thing in the world, as if he’s saying he wants to go across town, not across the world.

His tongue flattens out and dips into your weeping hole, and your thighs tighten around his head in response. He groans, and you choke out, “A week for the Maldives?”

You feel his lips twist and curve around you, paired with a little graze of teeth; he’s smiling, and the sensation makes you dizzy. There it is, he wants to say. You want more. Finally, your expectations are starting to match his bank account.

But he decides to play the dumb, pretty boyfriend he likes to make people think he is. “You don’t think it’s enough time? Wanna take two weeks?”

“I don’t have the—” He kisses up to your clit and gives it a tentative little suck, which makes you fist his hair. “—vacation days.”

“Why don’t you just take them without pay?” he proposes as his tongue laves up your swollen sex. “It’ll be okay, just this once. You’ll feel so much better after some time off; I promise.”

JASON TODD 💋

Jason is currently scrutinizing the contents of your pantry, a box of macaroni and cheese in his hand. After seeing the scowl on his face, you’re not surprised when he starts to lecture you. “You eat this crap?”

You raise a brow because he’s one to judge. “I’ve seen you eat an entire party box of tacos.”

“I’m not you,” he fires back. His voice is still low, still calm, but you can sense an edge in his tone; this conversation is about a lot more than boxed macaroni and cheese.

In the beat of silence that follows, his heated gaze dulls to a smolder. “You don’t know how precious you are.”

You open your mouth to reply, but whatever retort you were going to argue back with is silenced when Jason’s big hands cup your face, tilting your head up so he can kiss your forehead. He lingers there, and you feel him tremble. His breath is ragged, rough—as if he’s afraid.

“I’m not you,” he repeats in a whisper. It’s like he’s talking to a child, like he knows you don’t know any better. Poor little you—you need him. “Just let me take care of you like always, okay? How about I sign you up for one of those meal prep kits? No more processed food; it’s not good for you.”

When he pulls you against his chest and strokes your hair, you feel yourself nod, unable to disagree. You know he’s right, after all; and isn’t it sweet that he treats you like a delicate angel even though he’s seen the worst of the world? That nothing without his stamp of approval is good enough for you?

TIM DRAKE 💋

“Oh, you’re all set,” your manicurist smiles at you as soon as you take out your wallet, nails freshly done. 

Caught off guard, all you can reply with is, “Huh?”

She just smiles a little brighter, and there’s a sparkle of something in her eyes. It looks a little wistful, but also a little vapid—is that jealousy? “Your boyfriend paid already,” she explains as her eyes not-so-subtly look around, trying to catch a glimpse of said boyfriend, but you’re just as surprised as she is.

“For the next year,” she adds in a dry tone. Slowly, you drop your wallet back into your purse. There’s only one man alive who could figure out where you get your nails done, what day and time you like your appointments, and call ahead to pay off your manicures for the next year without you ever finding out about it.

So when you get back to your car, you call him.

“Do anything fun today?” he asks over the phone, pretending to be way more innocent than he actually is.

“Tim—”

“Actually,” he cuts in, and you hear a bashful tremor in his voice. That tremor makes your stomach do flips, which beckons you to give in to whatever he wants. “I was just thinking about you. You’ve got the prettiest hands.”

“Tim—”

“Let’s go shopping later,” he rambles on, completely ignoring you. “I think you need some new jewelry. You’d like a new set of rings, wouldn’t you?”

🔖: @mrs-kurooo; @lovely-loren05

[dijidweeeb]

Wicked Sensations Presents: Sweet Treats (2024)

[shotmrmiller]

retired pornstar ghost has always been a talker. his voice is deep— a low rumble like distant thunder. always gets anyone that's under him going.

his voice to his own ears sounds plain, like any other man, really; he doesn't see the appeal. but what he does find appealing are the noises that come from you, his cute co-star when he talks to you, lips dripping with honey.

ghost loves when you clamp down on his cock, squeezing him like a vice when his wicked words sink into your ears. "tight bloody cunt would drive any man wild, love. how lucky i am that it's me getting to fuck you."

"look at you under me," he stills the bucking of your hips with one hand, skin dimpling where his fingers dig into you, "at my mercy, taking my desire."

"doing so well," he coos.

ghost lets out a sharp exhale through his teeth when your walls begin to flutter around him. "so quick to come, and i haven't even touched," he moves his hand down to your mons, thumb finding your swollen pearl, "here."

the circles he draws there are tight, precise, destructive. he brutally wrenches your orgasm from you, and in your blinding ecstasy, you dig your nails into the side of his proportionately wider waist.

his hips undulate as he fucks you through it while still fucking talking.

"kitty's got claws, doesn't she? i love a little—" but the words that were on his tongue crumbled into ash. you'd dragged your nails on his skin in mild annoyance, because how dare he sound so untaxed even though you're still twitching from the aftershocks under him—

the silence spoke volumes; he'd even stopped moving. you did it again, and this time he had whimpered— a pathetic little noise that came from the back of his throat.

delicious.

you wonder. this time, your nails score red lines down the front of his chest, grazing a little too close to his nipple and he groaned. loud.

delectable, like thick, molten chocolate.

now it's your turn to do the talking. "the mighty ghost, rendered speechless. have i performed a miracle?"

peering down at you, his eyes hold a deeper shade than usual. you continue to claw at him, this time targeting his unmistakably sensitive nipple. the sight of his eyes rolling back in sheer bliss ignites a fire within you.

"my, oh my," the smug grin on your face perfectly matches your tone. "tell me what you need, ghost. you need me to mark you up? want to see me on you come morning?"

his growl is animalistic, a shiver licks up your spine. he quickly bends you in half, feet dangling helplessly on his brawny shoulders.

"bite."

it's easy to follow his edict when he hits so deeply in this angle that the pain and pleasure blur into one overwhelming sensation. your teeth sink into the thick meat of his barrel chest, and he abruptly stills, a guttural snarl escaping his lips.

he doesn't speak a word until after; when his seed drips from your glistening slit and sweat-slick skin begins to cool down.

"fuckin' hell, love."

[dragonsholygrail]

Centaur Head Canons: Tying you up

Centaur bf x fem!reader— bondage, teasing, nipple play, oral (f!receiving), cum eating, yandere behavior

The height difference between you and your centaur bf was always something you both enjoyed, despite its brief troublesome moments.

One of those moments being the strain it put on his body whenever he maneuvered himself to eat you out. The most troublesome part of that being is that your centaur bf fucking loved to lap at your sweet pussy. He longed to get lost in the apex of your thighs and to suffocate between your folds.

It was his favorite meal and every now and then he couldn’t help but kick his legs back, tail already swishing in anger by not having easier access to your cunt.

Until one day he couldn’t help but notice the beams and the way they crossed within his stable. The height at which they sat… leading to a wicked idea forming in his mind.

And that’s how you found yourself suspended high up in the air of Centaur bfs stable, constricted around so many loops of rope you had lost count. Your arms strung up in the air and your legs forcibly spread as wide as they could go. Leaving yourself vulnerable to whatever your bf wanted to do to you.

Centaur bfs ties the knot right in the valley of your breasts, the texture of the rope sending goosebumps along your spine and hardening your nipples.

“You’re gonna do so good for me, sugarplum,” your bf rumbles, his southern accent having a naturally calming effect on you. His hands teasingly trail down your body, eliciting gasps from your throat as he makes his way down to your glistening pussy. Already so wet and ready for him.

Centaur bf’s mouth salivates the second your scent wafts into his nose. His licks his lips, leaning in and soaking up every bit of the scent of your arousal. He lets it coat his tongue, imagining being able to taste you and fully lose himself in your flavor. His hands massage your steady thighs, gripping the bottom of them so he can keep your dripping folds right up against him.

He nuzzles into you, getting your essence all over his face. Not wanting to rush a moment of this he just takes you in, even as you whine and faintly beg for him to lick you. His tongue darts out, flicking a dollop of your liquid into his mouth and he groans loudly.

“Good heavens,” he rasps before he unhinges his jaw and his tongue slides up into your cunt like a man starved. Hands squeezing at your thighs as he laps up every drop that had gushed out of your nice glistening pussy.

He takes full advantage of having such easy access to you. His tongue swirling through your folds in ways he’s never been able to do before. He rediscovers your pussy, making sure every inch of it is pleasured by his eager tongue.

Your moans ring throughout the air, body writing and hips wriggling as you both try and lean in and escape the unrelenting pleasure Centaur bf is unleashing upon you. Your bf lets out a rough huff and the clomp of his hoof hits the ground loudly. His fingers digging into your ass and holding you tighter against his mouth.

Centaur bf can’t decide on which part of you tastes best as he licks you up like you’re the best tasting sugar cube he’s ever had.

He wants to taste it all, all at once. His long thick tongue slipping deep inside your cunt before sliding up to suck at your clit. Forcing unbelievable sensations to crash into your body in waves. Your body shakes, only making the ropes brush tantalizingly against your skin and adding to your pleasure. With a ragged shriek you cum all over Centaur bfs face.

A loud neigh chokes out through your bfs throat, his front legs rising a little in order to get impossible closer your gushing pussy. Your release soaks his face and he growls, rushing to lick every drop of it up. You cry out loudly, overstimulation setting in as he just doesn’t stop. Lighting your nerves on fire in the best way.

“O-okay, get me down now. Someone could come in at any minute,” you croak, slight worry to your tone. You two are in the public stables after all, just as your bf had planned.

Centaur bf stays firmly against your spasming lips, lazily stroking up and down your walls to get any remaining ounce of your orgasm. His eyes darken as they look up at you, not that you very much notice as you pant heavily, suspended so highly above him and the ground.

A part of him wanting someone to hear. Wanting to bring you to the point of ecstasy that someone can’t help but overhear and wander in, worried your screams are ones of pain and not pleasure. Only to find you here in his stall. That you’re his and he’s the one bringing you to such a peak. Before they rush out to leave you two alone because above all your nosies are for him and him alone to enjoy to the fullest.

Hesitantly leaning away from your pussy he starts rubbing out the muscles of your thighs as they twitch and quiver in his hold. You look down at his face and immediately whine, seeing the amount of lust in his eyes. What you didn’t know yet was just how many plans your bf had for you. How many ways he wanted to watch you fall apart in these ropes before he takes your exhausted body and takes you again. His eyes sparkle with how much need he has for you. Knowing you need him just as much.

“Oh, we’re not done yet, pretty girl,” Centaur boyfriend says in faux sweetness. One hand slips back to your ass while the other slides along your inner thigh. You hiss as two of his fingers glide along your slit and make your hips jolt at the spark of pain that shoots through your pussy. Your bf chuckles, seeing how your body reacts to him.

“Gotta get you all ready and stretched out for my cock…”

[tasteracha]

a/n: minho puts a vibrator in you and makes you ride his thigh idk there is no plot here. i wrote this in 20 mins. smut - MINORS DNI.

this might have been the most stressful car ride of your entire life. every single bump, turn, and stop of the vehicle sent pangs of want pulsing through your core, and the worst part is that the toy wasn’t even on the highest setting yet. 

minho had handed the thing to you as you were walking out of the door and watched with hungry eyes as you slipped it under the hem of your sundress, past the lining of your underwear and into your hole with a slight shudder. it was the kind that settled right against your spot, curving perfectly, with a piece jutting out that nestled against your clit. it came with a remote control that minho tucked into his pocket with a smirk and a wicked glint in his eyes. 

he had kept you at a low buzz as he drove down roads, speeding through yellow lights and jerking at stop signs just to see your reaction. he was a good driver usually, so you knew he was doing this on purpose, the fucker. 

he turns it off when he parks at your destination, a busy market street that the two of you liked to frequent to window shop. he was kind to you when you were walking in public, only slipping his hand into his pocket when you got too comfortable with the sensation of the toy inside of you. you nearly forgot about it several times until he’d hit you with a series of quick buzzes that makes you stop in your tracks and press your legs together. you could feel wetness building in your core, dripping onto your underwear and you prayed that it wouldn’t start dripping down your thighs. as much as he would enjoy it, the thought of the sensation made you cringe in disgust. 

it’s only when you both return to the car in a secluded parking garage that he takes out the small remote and runs his fingers against the buttons. every time his nail catches on the button that raises the vibrations you tense up, but he repeats the motions again and again until you relax into the carseat. the click of a button echoes through the entire car when he finally presses it, and you’re embarrassingly close to coming from how on edge you’ve been for the past hour. 

he knows - of course he does. he knows you better than he knows himself, can read your body like it’s a worn out novel on his bedside table. he turns off the vibrator when you’re reaching the crest of your peak, and you’re left clenching around the toy as your high escapes you. you try to chase it but it runs faster than you can move your hips, and you collapse against the seat with a groan. 

“come here,” he pats his leg and pops back his seat as far as it can go, making room for you to fit between him and the steering wheel. the angry retort on your lips dies as you meet his eyes and see the possessiveness in them; he looks close to feral. you take a glance outside the windows to make sure that no one was outside before climbing over the central console, trying to climb into his lap. 

you want to be wrapped around him, you want to feel his comforting touch against every inch of your hypersensitive body, but he pulls you away when you try to press close. he pushes you to the side until you’re straddling just his thigh, and the hard muscle there pushes the toy closer to your clit and deeper inside of you. your dress falls to the sides, leaving your thighs touching the material of his jeans and your soaked underwear definitely staining them.

he turns on the vibrator again, pushing it to a higher setting than you’d been before, and the moan you let out was borderline pornographic. you don’t have time to feel embarrassed about it because he throws the remote into the cupholder and wraps his fingers around your hips in a tight grip. he pushes you back a bit before pulling you back into him, over and over until it clicks - he wants you to ride his thigh. in a public parking garage, where anyone could walk in and see your desperation and helplessness. the thought makes your entire body burn and you can’t help the way your hips jerk along with his movements. 

it’s absolutely euphoric, the way he’s gripping you in a way that will leave fingerprint shaped bruises on your skin paired with the vibrator buzzing against your clit and rumbling inside of you. you can’t think of anything other than the searing pleasure building up inside of you and you don’t realize that your eyes have fluttered shut until he moves one of his hands to grip your chin, keeping your gaze pinned on him. 

he looks wrecked just watching you, his lips parted and his eyes unblinking as he watches you fall apart. you come with a full body shudder, your eyes rolling back into your head as you lose your balance and fall into him. he keeps the vibrator on as you ride your way through your orgasm, and he wraps his arms around you as overstimulation starts to set in. you squirm, trying to escape the near painful pleasure sparking through your belly, but he keeps you pinned to him until you start to cry into his shoulder. 

you don’t see it, but you know he’s smiling at your cries; there’s nothing he loves more than bringing you to tears from pleasure. 

he turns it off after a few moments and your body melts against his, your limbs feeling like jelly and your head fuzzy like cotton. you bury your head into his neck, the collar of his jacket digging into your cheek and the smell of leather invading your senses. he strokes your back until your tears stop, whispering praises into your hair in between gentle kisses. when you gain some control of your body, you shift a little and you can feel the slick that’s collected between your legs. you wince and let out a little whine, and he shushes you and presses a final kiss to your forehead. 

“i’ll run you a bath when we get home, angel,” he promises. 

“mm,” you agree, nuzzling against him. “but i’m not moving for at least another ten minutes.”