#and getting more than one comment means you fucking nailed it

[kyluxtrashpit]

Dude if you wanna write het porn then write het porn but stop putting piv, the straightest possible sexual act, into gay ship tags. Homophobic as fuck

Trans men are men and therefore trans men having sex with other men is, in fact, gay sex, hope this helps ✌️

(And same goes for women, in case there was any doubt)

[mahgyu]

Choso smut + N$FW audio

• minors do not interact! 

──── Choso was feeling so strange about receiving a blowjob for the first time in his life.

And even though it was a new sensation for him, it was surprising. Choso had restless hands, unsure where to put them, his tongue came out of his mouth, wetting his dry thin lips. Choso's cock felt heavy on your tongue, spreading the drops of pre-cum that gathered above the slit, his skin was hot, essentially burning at your touch. He let out a short moan as he felt your wet silky tongue moving slightly under the head of his penis. You used your hands to anchor yourself, your nails leaving crescent moons on the surface of his thick muscular thighs as you gripped him.

On impulse, Choso entered your flexible mouth with more force, the sudden act causing you to gag, which immediately made Choso concerned when he noticed.

But you were quick to reassure him, smiling wickedly at him while still holding him in your mouth. You then moved your fingers down to his heavy balls, caressing them firmly, eliciting a sudden moan from Choso.

"So you're the type who enjoys choking games, Cho? What a dirty boy you're proving to be, huh?" You tease, smiling even wider when you notice him shrinking back shyly. You resume sucking him, this time faster and squeezing him harder.

"N-no, I didn't mean to do t-that, shit, please, slower" He tries to explain as he struggles not to reach his limit yet. The uncomfortable sensation from the beginning was barely present now as pleasure took over.

"Ah, baby, it's okay. You can fuck my throat if you want" Your voice, sounding so velvety while saying such promiscuous things, left Choso mesmerized.

He murmurs softly and you feel the blockage in your throat open up as Choso's cock reaches deeper, but this time slowly. Your mouth gradually closes around Choso's penis, getting tighter for him with each second as he settles shakily into you.

And Choso settled into your little mouth, moaning louder as he felt your throat around him, pushing himself into you until your nose bumped against his pelvis. His head tilted back and eyes tightly shut, his shoulders rising and falling erratically as he frantically tried to control his breathing.

"A-ah, that's it, so deep" Choso says hoarsely, now allowing himself to stroke your hair. You murmured in acknowledgment, running your nails along his thighs, sending shivers down his skin. Choso's breath caught when your throat vibrated around him, causing you to shift position as your pussy became uncomfortably wet, craving touch.

Choso's grip on your hair tightened, now using it to guide your head down rather than having to push into you. His brows furrowed, lips parting in a soft moan as he guided your mouth up and down along his shaft. Your tongue tracing the veins that slightly protruded on his skin, the salty taste of pre-cum coating your mouth entirely. Drool accumulated at the back of your throat and dribbled from the corners of your mouth each time Choso entered or withdrew. You sucked the saliva and pre-cum that flooded your mouth, causing him to feel your throat tighten around his cock every time you swallowed.

"I knew you liked this, you pervert " You tease again, amused and breathless, while Choso, in turn, has his lips curling into a small satisfied smile as he drifts further into his own pleasure.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Finally, Choso's version!! (I think this needs to be turned up a bit more to be heard better)

Which one do you suggest should be next?

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome 🫶🏻💕

[dwaekkicidal]

"Heats" with Bunny!Lee Know

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Day 2 of my Bboki-Dwae collab with @bbokicidal <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~900

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gn!reader but theres pregnancy mentions in the last two quotes at the very very end of this post, constant mentions of breeding, 1 mention of a spank, overstimulation, some cum talk, using another person's clothes+scent to get off, this last one is marked with "⚠" but 1 mention of being forced down with a foot on ur head lol

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

❥ Has no real heat cycle, at least not an obvious one, since male rabbits are always ready to breed year-round.

❥ That being said, he will be very obsessive about breeding you from the very beginning of the year, usually February or March, all the way to September. You both quickly come to learn that it is because of rabbit's mating season! Which explains why he's constantly insatiable during this time frame and will usually want to go multiple rounds a day, every single day if you'll allow it.

❥ He cums super fast sometimes, so oral is not an option in his mind. He will taste you at least 3 times a day and he'll dig his nails into your thighs if you start trying to squirm away from overstimulation.

❥ Once he's got his fill and he's sure you've enjoyed yourself, he’s wasting no time to flip you onto your hands and knees. It’s his favorite position!! something something "Best for me to breed you thoroughly"

❥ He’s gonna keep your hole nice and stuffed while he roughs you around for as many rounds as he deems sufficient enough for his seed to take. (Spoiler: it's NEVER enough for him)

❥ And if he’s that deep in, that he’s giving in to his more 'primal' side, then you will be at it for hours before his mushy little brain pushes past the chants of “breed. breed. breed.” and remembers that you’re, in fact, a human and need a second to breathe.

❥ He quite literally does not care if you physically can not get pregnant... You not having the means to get pregnant or simply being on birth control will never stop him from talking or thinking about breeding you. If anything, he finds it even hotter because his minds convinces him that "If we try hard enough.."

❥ You don’t need lube when he has almost disgusting amounts of precum/cum leaking from his tip <3 So much so that you now have a towel drawer in your nightstand

❥ Much to his human side’s dismay, and to his rabbit side’s joy, he will cum buckets every 2nd time. Meaning that once that second round of the day is hitting, prepare to literally overflow due to the sheer amount of cum his heavy balls will pump into you.

❥ Oh, and don’t even think about letting any of it go to waste. The second a singular drop of his cum falls past the midpoint of your thigh, he is racing to shove it back inside where it belongs.

❥ Depending on how deep into this “headspace” he is he might even growl, which always comes out as a huff, and land a warning slap to your ass cheek. Loves to combine it with some crude comment (like the very first quote at the end of this post)

❥ If he’s reaally really into it he will mount you as best as he physically can: If you’re in a position similar to missionary, you’re getting shoved into a mating press and held in place. Or if you’re in a position similar to doggy style, you’re getting shoved flat into the sheets so he can straddle the backs of your thighs and spread your cheeks while he watches himself fuck into your tight hole <3

⚠ You didn't hear this from me but if he's particularly insatiable & has lost himself to his instincts, he may or may not hold you down with his foot on the back of your head while you're in downward doggy. This is so he can force you to sit still and fuck your brains out so that you stay pliant for him until he's ready to take a break <3 In this position, he fucks you soo much more aggressively/rougher than ever before so prepare to not be able to walk for a bit hehe

Now, let’s say he goes through one of these “mating season” fits while you’re nowhere near. Maybe in another country or state for whatever reason and there’s no possibility that you and him can reunite anytime soon.

❥ He WILL try to breed hump everything that smells like you. From using your towel(s) to tug one out all the way to humping your favorite spot on the couch until his dick is raw.

❥ This also means he will throw one of your clothes (cough 90% of the time is your worn underwear cough) onto a pillow and will rub his cock against it until he dirties it even more.

❥ But, he is a good boy. So he won’t be gross and leave his cum to seep into your clothes until you come home. He’ll be good and thoroughly clean whatever he lost his mind on and definitely will get horny again in the process

❥ You let him think he’s gotten away with it, but in reality? He cums so much that some stains just don’t go away…

Well... that and you leaving a semi-filled laundry basket just to come home to an empty basket and suspiciously clean clothes always gives him away.

“Tell this ungrateful, little hole to take what it's given and stop wasting.”

“Jagi- Fuck. Jagiya, stop wiggling so much. The deeper I am, the better I can breed you.”

"I need to cum- God, please, baby- you haveta' take it all. You owe me for being so fucking tight and wasting all my cum."

“If you keep spilling, I’ll have no choice but to fuck another couple of loads into you, Honey.”

"You're gonna be so fucking sexy, all nice and round with my kits in your tummy. Yeah? Right fucking here." As he puts his palm on your lower stomach 🥴

"Yeah? You're gonna give me a litter? Gonna have our babies runnin' around my parent's house while I stuff you full with even more of them."

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez

[nottsangel]

the red means i love you — r.c.

pairing: dark!rafe cameron x dark!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, murder, vaginal sex, extreme violence, stabbing, blood, knifeplay (carving), bloodplay, possessive and obsessive behaviour (reader and rafe), fingering, hair pulling, slight spanking, toxic relationship, reader and rafe are both fucked in the head

word count: 5k

summary: in a relationship fueled by hidden obsession and jealousy, you and your boyfriend are more alike than you initially thought.

moodboard // m.list // blurbs m.list // taglist

You hummed along to the song blasting from your speakers, stretched out on your stomach while absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok, your long nails tapping against the screen. With your boyfriend away on their annual family vacation, you were left restless and bored. Since you started dating him a year ago, you've spent practically every moment together, causing your hobbies and personal interests to gradually fade, along with your sense of individuality. He was the centre of your world, everything in your life revolved around him— you were willing to go to any lengths for him, and you knew he would do the same for you. What you both didn’t know, was how far you would be willing to go for each other.

Yawning while watching the nth slime scoopability video on your TikTok for you page, a notification popped up on your phone— rafe_cameron posted a new picture! You instantly tapped on it, having notifications turned on for a reason only to find a photo of your boyfriend on a yacht, clad in nothing but his blue swimsuit. Fuck. His defined abs, the tight shorts showing his bulge through the fabric, his hair messy and slightly wet— you instantly felt an ache between your legs, prompting you to rub your thighs together.

Though it had only been a few days since you had last seen him, his absence weighed heavy and the picture didn’t help. You found yourself analysing every single detail of the picture, but your focus kept going back to his bulge as you could practically feel his cock filling you up so perfectly like he does every night again, except for tonight. You were desperately craving his touch, and just as you were about to reach your hand into your shorts to relieve the achy feeling, your mood was ruined when you checked the comment section.

oliviaprentiss4: looking good Cameron! 😍

Bang. You threw your phone aggressively at the wall while letting out a piercing scream as your breaths grew shallow and fast, anger coursing through your veins. Fucking bitch. Of course it’s Olivia, who goes after your man every chance she gets. Despite Rafe's constant assurances that she's just a friend and nothing more, as a girl yourself, you can't help but notice the subtle flirtations — the way she twirls her blonde locks while gazing up at him with fuck-me eyes whenever they talk. You're not stupid.

You fixed your gaze intently on the wall, attempting to collect your thoughts and calm your breathing as a plan dawned upon you. Swiftly grabbing the lip gloss from the bedside table next to you, you hastily reapplied it before gathering your phone from the ground and switching to the camera app. You raised your phone in the air, pushing your tits up and pulling your top down just a tad bit, leaving nearly nothing to the imagination as you snapped a few pictures while switching poses.

Brandon is gonna fucking love these, you thought to yourself while scrolling through your camera roll, referring to a fratboy you met at a party before you started dating Rafe. You hooked up with him once, seeing him as nothing more than just a one-night stand, but he became obsessed with you after that— replying to your Instagram stories daily and asking you to hang out at least once a week. You knew he would comment if you posted a few sexy pics, and you were right.

brandontheman: cute top, but im more interested in whats under it ;)

You bit your lip as an amused but sinister smile spread across your face, knowing it would infuriate Rafe. Clicking back on his profile to check the new picture once more, you noticed new comments had been added. Your smile abruptly vanished as you glanced at Rafe's comments section again, feeling the anger that had started to subside returning with force.

rafe_cameron: @ oliviaprentiss4 Thanks liv.

Liv. He fucking calls her Liv. Fucking asshole. You muttered curses under your breath, fists clenching as your breathing quickened and your jaw tightened again. He could've simply ignored her. Or deleted her comment. Or blocked her when you started complaining about the bitch four months ago. But no— the fucking idiot calls her Liv, for everyone to see, including you.

With hands trembling from sheer rage, you redirected your attention to your phone before switching profiles. rafe_cameron. Now, you wouldn't exactly label yourself as toxic for having his profile logged in on your phone. You're just, you know, keeping an eye on him, with the best intentions after all. Even though he was unaware that you peeked into his phone to get his password when he was showering. Hmm. Okay, maybe you were a little toxic, you can admit that much. But being toxic means being smart so you went to settings and disabled notifications, ensuring Rafe wouldn’t suspect a thing before tapping on his chat with Olivia.

As you scrolled through the chat, nothing new caught your eye, which didn't come as a surprise given that you checked his profile on a daily basis. It was the usual— Olivia showering him with compliments whenever he posted a picture of himself, and him graciously thanking her. You shook your head in disbelief, your jaw tensing with anger at his consistent responses to her. She was a big problem— a serious threat to your relationship, and you desperately needed to get rid of her. You took a deep breath, hoping your plan would succeed, before typing out a message.

rafe_cameron: hey liv.

oliviaprentiss4: hey rafey!

Rafey. Oh, this bitch really wants to die.

rafe_cameron: my girlfriend is out of town tonight. wanna come over?

oliviaprentiss4: sounds good! I’ll be there at 9!! 🤍

Not a girl’s girl, huh? You scoffed at how easily she agreed to a man cheating on his girlfriend, yet a small smile tugged at your lips as it seemed that your plan was starting to take work. Now you just had to figure out how to get inside Tannyhill, but let’s be real— breaking in is the easiest part of it all.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting eerie shadows across the Cameron’s estate except for a few lights that you hastily switched on when you arrived five minutes before nine. It was quiet; the only sounds in the eerie mansion were the ticking of a clock and a few birds chirping outside.

You were impatiently sitting on the couch, waiting for Olivia, with your knee bouncing up and down— not from nerves though, but rather, excitement. A wicked grin spread across your face as you heard the doorknob turn, followed by cautious footsteps on the wooden floor. Olivia gasped audibly when she spotted you, her face flushing bright red as she stumbled over her words, too stunned to articulate a coherent sentence.

“I- Sorry, Rafe said- I mean. I thought you wouldn’t-“ “You thought what, exactly? That you could fuck my boyfriend without me knowing? God, you really are such a stupid, fucking bitch.”

Your words hit her hard, causing her to freeze in place as she fiddled with her fingers nervously. She realized she fucked up bad when she caught the insane, psychotic glare in your narrowed eyes, which was filled with unmistakable hatred directed at her. It sent shivers down her spine— she came to the stark realization that you were more than simply a jealous girlfriend; she was fearing for her life.

You rose from the couch and marched towards her, causing her to take steps back in panic, her eyes widening in terror. But you were quicker, consumed by rage. She cried out in agony as you seized a handful of her blonde hair, and violently hauled her towards the ground until she smashed into the floor with a loud thud.

“Tsk, so many men, and still, you had to choose mine. Dumbest decision you could make, Liv. And you’re gonna fucking regret it.” You hissed as you straddled her. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling disoriented from her head hitting the floor as she confusedly gazed up at you. It was over for her. You knew it, she knew it. The poor girl gulped when you took a knife out of your back pocket— the pocket knife that Rafe bought you to defend yourself from men. Oh, if only he knew. Thank you baby, best present ever.

“Here’s what I’m gonna do. I will use this cute little knife to stab you, okay? Not just once though, no, there’s no fun in that.” Now, this was the moment where she broke down in tears, pleading for you to let her go. You revelled in the sense of power, devoid of any trace of empathy, as you observed the girl's panicked state with streaks of mascara running down her face. What the fuck did she expect? It’s the consequences of her own actions.

You gripped her face tightly, sharp nails pressing into her skin as you forced her to meet your gaze, her eyes wide with fear and brimming with tears as they met yours. She was frozen in place, paralyzed by an overwhelming sense of dread. “Hey, hey, just shut up for a moment and let me do my thing, okay? This is my moment and I can’t have you fucking it up. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

You paused and slowly closed your eyes, savouring the momentary bliss until Olivia interrupted you, prompting an irritated exhale and forcing your eyes to reopen. “Let me go, please! I wasn’t even gonna do anything with him! I promise!” she attempted and pleaded for one last time, despite knowing deep down that it wouldn't change anything. Your hatred was too strong, as evidenced by your eyes— the psychotic look on your face caused goosebumps to form all over her body.

“You think…” you started, breath quickening in growing anger as your jaw tensed, shaking your head and snickering in disbelief, “…you can fucking LIE TO ME?” you screamed before raising the knife in the air, not wasting any more time as she only fuelled your rage further, followed by bringing it back down, right into her chest next to her silver necklace with the letter ‘O’ attached to it. She let out a piercing scream out of agony before you quickly pulled the knife out, blood spurting in every direction possible just like in slasher movies, making you forget for a moment that this was real life. You were so caught up in the moment— it felt therapeutic in a way to finally release all of your pent-up rage.

“Don’t” stab. “touch” stab. “my” stab. “man, Liv.” stab, stab, stab.

Your heart raced as you witnessed the life drain from her ocean-blue eyes, a rush of power and exhilaration consuming you as you smiled down at her with a manic glint in your eyes. You experienced a strange sense of peace along with a wave of relief washing over you. Problem solved.

Standing up again, you had to steady yourself as you felt slightly lightheaded with adrenaline rushing through your body. You wiped the remaining blood from your face with your shirt before hearing a faint scream coming from upstairs, making you gasp as your heart beat out of your chest. What the fuck? You were convinced that no one was home, the entire Cameron family on their yearly vacation far, far away.

The screams came to an abrupt halt followed by a loud thud before hearing a person grunt, as if they were struggling while carrying something heavy. Fuck fuck fuck. This was when you started to panic. Whoever it was coming down the stairs right now was about to witness you fully covered in blood with a fucking dead body lying next to you on the floor. It was over.

“Shit man… why’s it never the skinny, short guys she fuckin’ falls for?” you heard a familiar voice complain, making you blink your eyes a few times as you saw your boyfriend descend the stairs while dragging a lifeless body behind him. “…Rafe?” you uttered, making him snap his head to the side, startled by your sweet-laced voice calling out his name.

First, his gaze fell on you, locking his blue eyes with yours, both widening in shock while staring at each other. Oh, he really fucked up, he thought, until he noticed the corpse next to you with the knife in your right hand, fresh blood dripping from it onto the floor. He then turned to face the body he was dragging down the stairs, blinking several times as he attempted to process the bizarre situation.

“Oh shit. We’re like that one Spiderman meme, babe.” you chuckled, cocking your head to the side as you watched the body comically fall down each step with a thud, leaving a trail of fresh blood behind. Rafe looked at you in astonishment, before his face quickly turned into one of absolute fury with nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowing. You knew that look on your boyfriend’s face— he was about to freak the fuck out. “ooohh my god, oh my god… what— what the FUCK are you doing?!”

Your face instantly dropped as you scoffed at the hypocrisy, “What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing?” you hurriedly marched towards him, casually stepping over the girl’s lifeless body with the bloody knife still in your right hand. With your faces merely inches away, you stared into his enraged, narrowed blue eyes before turning your attention to the body resting against the stairs. Brandon. The poor boy has been beaten to death with what you assume Rafe’s baseball bat, which has been sitting in the corner of his room untouched for quite some time, always leaving you wondering why he still had that thing. Well, that question was answered now. Brandon’s face was nearly unrecognisable, it was not a nice sight. He was covered in blood from head to toe, and it was clear Rafe used Brandon’s body to get all his aggression out.  

Your attention was then drawn to the once-white carpet he was standing on, which was now ruined and completely covered in blood. “Oh, and real smart, Rafe. Letting a body bleed all over your fucking carpet. What are you gonna tell your family, huh?” You snorted, taking in the mess that Rafe had made all over the house.

“That’s… that’s what you’re fuckin’ worried about here!? Just… I—  I don’t know, say you were on your period or some shit, jesus.” he rolled his eyes and shook his head, obviously not thinking about the fucking carpet right now as his mind raced with a thousand thoughts while squinting his eyes, still trying to figure out who the body was on the other end of the room.

“Is that— is that Oliv-“ “ON MY PERIOD, RAFE?! I’D BE FUCKING DEAD ALREADY IF THAT’S HOW MUCH I BLEED EACH MONTH, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”

Rafe briefly closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, attempting to block out your exasperating voice but failing miserably as it was the only thing he could hear at that moment. His breathing accelerated and his eyes narrowed as his frustration reached its boiling point, his vision blurred with a red haze of anger before punching a hole in the wall, the impact echoing throughout the room, sending shockwaves of sound outward. “FUCK! Why do you— why you always gotta fuck things up for us, huh? Can’t you just be a normal fucking girlfriend for once? Jesus fucking christ.”

A normal girlfriend? Your heart shattered into a thousand pieces at his words. Each syllable fell like a knife to the heart, leaving you more vulnerable and hurt. In that moment, you realized with a sense of sorrow that no matter how much you loved him, it would never be enough. Tears from sheer rage and heartache began to well up in your eyes as your grip on the knife tightened. You felt so misunderstood— why couldn’t he just see that no girl could ever love him the way you do? That everything you do is for him?

“I— I did this for you, Rafe, for us. Can’t you fucking see that? She was gonna— fuck—  she was gonna ruin what we have!” you spoke in a trembling but urgent voice, swaying the knife in front of his face as blood splattered all over the walls, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’d do anything for you, you hear me? ANYTHING! Nothing is ever gonna get between us, Rafe. And no one— no one will ever love you more than I do.” His eyes were eerily still, devoid of any trace of humanity, as he stood frozen, listening to your ramblings. It only fuelled your rage more, as you so desperately tried to get it through his head that you did it for him, with the best intentions, but Rafe gave no reaction.

“I just—  I just don’t get it… How the FUCK is this my-“ you continued with tears streaming down your face but gasped when you were abruptly interrupted by Rafe grabbing your face, leaving a red blood imprint on your cheek before pushing you against the cold wall followed by his lips meeting yours in a fervent urgency. His body was pressed against yours with his hand gripping the back of your head, pushing you deeper into him to intensify the kiss as your tongues danced together. At that moment, all your surroundings melted away as you were lost in the overwhelming need for each other.

Because oddly, it turned him on— your insanity turned him on. It stirred a sensation of warmth, a tingling feeling, and a deep sense of gratitude within him. Knowing someone loved him to the point of being willing to do anything for him, even if that meant killing— that was all Rafe needed in his lonely existence, longing for someone to love him with the same intensity he felt for them. Rafe Cameron just needed to be loved.

“You’re— you’re… fuckin’ perfect.” Rafe whispered, his voice laced with an unfamiliar sweetness as his blue eyes intensely gazed into yours. Perfect? You blinked a few times as you shook your head, unable to process the sudden change in demeanour. “W-what?” you stared at him before he cupped your face with both hands, a look of solace and devotion on his blood-stained face. “Listen to me, yeah? ‘m never gonna let you go, I fuckin’ promise that. I’d do anything for you— anything, you hear me? Gonna take good fuckin’ care of my girl, a’ight?”

A relieved smile graced your lips, a chuckle escaping as you found comfort before you leaned in to kiss him once more, the embrace deeper and more intense than before, filled with longing and desire. He pushed you towards the couch, making you stumble backwards while feeling more aroused with each step you took. It was a bizarre scene— both of you covered in fresh blood, hungrily touching every part of each other’s bodies, with two corpses on the floor next to you, still bleeding all over. But that wasn’t any of your concern at that moment. All you cared about was how his skilled hands moved over your skin, making you crave him even more.

Rafe, on the other hand, felt he still had something to prove— as if murdering a man wasn’t enough. He needed you to know how good he could make you feel. He needed you to understand that no man on this planet could treat you better than him. You could see it in his lustful eyes as he pushed you back on the couch, followed by him crawling on top of you and attacking your still blood-covered neck with hungry kisses. The ticklish feeling of Rafe’s mouth made you giggle as the metallic tang of blood flooded his senses, coating his tongue with an iron bitterness that lingered long. He didn’t know whose blood it even was, maybe both of theirs together mixed with yours, by the way he was so aggressively biting and sucking on your skin.

“Mine. All fuckin’ mine. Got it?” he snarled as he withdrew and grasped your face tightly, forcing you to look him into his intense eyes. You agreed with a nod, flashing a naughty smile as you gazed up at him coyly through your lashes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Don’t wanna go around killin’ the entire neighbourhood.” He growled, before trailing his lips to your earlobe, gently sucking on it as his expensive cologne filled your nostrils. “But I will if I have to.” His voice raspy as he spoke, making you become wetter with each passing second.

“Hm, i don’t doubt that.” You remarked before a moan escaped your lips caused by Rafe’s hand groping your tits under your shirt, massaging them over the laced bra that he bought for you. “But know that I would kill the entire female population of the Outer Banks.” He couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle, still wrapping his head around just how insane his girlfriend truly was. “You’re so fucked in the head, shit.“ he whispered, pulling your bra down and toying with your nipples, making you bite your lip, “Just how I like it.”

Rafe then grabbed the knife from where you had dropped it next to the couch, skilfully twirling it a few times. You observed him with a rush of anticipation, uncertain of his intentions. He slid the knife beneath your top, eliciting a gasp as he swiftly sliced through the fabric, ruining your clothes, before repeating the action with your shorts.

“Rafe, what the fuck!” You hissed in annoyance as he destroyed your clothes. “Those were my favourites! Oh, don’t you fucking dare do the same with my underwear” It was evident he wasn't taking you seriously, the smug smile on his face only grew bigger before he slipped the knife under your bra and cut it open as well in one swift motion.

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You know I can buy you anything you want, yeah?” Your lace underwear was next, leaving you inwardly agitated as he cut the fabric and flung it across the room. Seeing your dejected expression, he released an exasperated sigh. “Stop with the whining. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, a’ight?”

He seized you by the hips and quickly turned you around, pressing your face into the cushion before you could comprehend what was happening as in an instant, you found yourself face down with your ass up, angled towards him. “Fuckin’ soaked already, huh?” He suddenly grabbed a handful of your hair and raised your head, then stuck his blood-covered fingers into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his digits with a mixture of blood and drool running down your chin while feeling his clothed boner press against your bare ass. “Yeah— that’s right baby. Lick my fingers clean like a good fuckin’ girl.” You could feel yourself dripping down your inner thighs before Rafe scooped it up with his now clean fingers and slipped them into you from behind, making you let out a hitched breath at the sudden sensation as you moaned his name.

It didn’t take long for his digits to find your g-spot as he skilfully rubbed against it, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your pornographic moans combined with the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you made it difficult for him to control himself any longer, so he abruptly pulled out, causing you to whine at the sudden loss of contact. “You bitch! I was so fucking close!” Rafe’s hand reeled back before you felt a stinging pain on your ass, making you jolt forward on the couch. “Watch that fuckin’ mouth if you wanna cum.”

You heard the unbuckling of a belt behind you followed by feeling Rafe’s erection teasing your folds, dragging the tip up and down as his precum mixed with your wetness. Growing increasingly impatient, you tried to push yourself back onto his cock, to no avail as he held your hips firmly. “Aww, poor girl wants it bad, huh?” his voice laced with faux sympathy. “Then beg for it.”

“Rafe just fucking do-“ your words were quickly interrupted by him grasping your hair and leaning down to your eye level. “I said fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Fuck. Please, okay! I need to feel you! Just, please, fuck me” Rafe pushed himself into you in one quick thrust, swallowed by your warmth as he watched his cock disappear into your body. He gave you no time to adjust as he stretched you out completely, causing a brief sensation of pain that was quickly replaced by pleasure. He let out a sigh at the feeling, one hand on your lower back and the other on your hip as he quickly set a brutal pace— deep, erratic thrusts hitting your sweet spots so perfectly. Your nails scraped against the leather of the couch, nearly tearing it apart as you pushed yourself back onto Rafe’s cock, making him grunt at the sight. He massaged your inner walls so perfectly, making you moan his name loudly over and over again.

Rafe suddenly stopped in his tracks, cautioning, “Stay still or this will hurt, like bad, a’ight?”, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion before hearing him reach for the knife once again from next to him, sending a gulp down your throat. You tensed, anticipating the sensation, well aware of what was about to happen, just as you felt the sharp edge of the blade against your delicate skin while he was still balls deep inside of you. “So fuckin’ pretty all covered in blood, shit.” You could feel the letters he was etching into your skin— R.C., his initials. Once he was done, he tossed the knife on the floor before quickly pulling out, causing you to whine at the sudden empty feeling as he leaned down, licking up your blood that was dripping from the fresh wounds, mingling with Olivia's still-stained blood on your skin. “Forever mine.”

Rafe slapped your ass once again, causing you to cry out from the stinging pain of his hand making contact with the fresh carvings on your skin. “Now, where were we?” He slipped into you again as he mercilessly continued his thrusts, strangled noises leaving your mouth at the sudden feeling. He noticed your moans were muffled by the pillow so he grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged it firmly, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.

“Shit, look at ya now. Not so tough anymore, huh?” Rafe groaned as he pounded into you, his brutal thrusts making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your vision started to blur. “Shut— up.” You muttered in between his thrusts, your mind all fuzzy as his tip repeatedly hit your cervix. You clenched around him when he kept hitting that one spot inside you, the pleasure building as you could feel his cock twitching inside you.

You arched your back with your eyes fluttering shut as felt your orgasm approaching. “I’m— I’m so fucking close, oh my god” You moaned out with your mouth agape, nails digging deep into the skin of his arm that was wrapped around your body as the sensation became too much for you.

“Come f’me, doll. Gonna fill you up so fuckin’ good” Rafe’s hand snaked around your body to rub fast circles on your sensitive clit, making you moan loudly as your orgasm abruptly struck you, causing you to clench hard around his cock with buckling knees. All your muscles tensed as you saw stars, a wave of pleasure fully overtaking you with Rafe still pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm. He came not too long after you, slow and drawn-out curses spilling from his lips with his head thrown back as you could feel the familiar pool of warmth fill you up to the brim, completely emptying himself inside of you as his orgasm hit him.

He rode out his high before he carefully pulled out as your chest rose and fell in a frantic rhythm, each breath a struggle to fill your lungs with air while trying to regain your breath. “My pretty, pretty girl.” Rafe praised, staring at your cum-dripping cunt with a grin on his face.

As you opened your eyes, the harsh reality crashed over you like a wave, sending a shiver down your spine at the sight of the lifeless bodies lying across the floor. Panic laced your voice as you turned to face Rafe, desperation evident in your words. "Rafe? What the fuck are we going to do with the bodies?"

His response was surprisingly calm, his tone carrying an unsettling assurance. "Don't worry ‘bout that. I'll take care of it, a’ight?"

The eerie composure in his voice sent a chill down your spine, hinting at a familiarity with murdering that made your stomach churn. "What? How— how do you know how to clean up bodies?"

A sinister smirk crept onto his handsome features, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion and disbelief before his blue eyes stared deep into yours, holding you in their gaze with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Princess, what do you think happened to poor Jake last month? And Dylan before that?”

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[theemporium]

[1.7k] an early morning birthday treat for your boyfriend hours before the rest of the world needs either of you. (smut)

we are gonna ignore the fact i accidentally hit the post limit yesterday and pretend i actually posted this on his birthday

.

“Good morning, birthday boy.” 

Oscar let out a small hum of acknowledgement, a small smile working its way onto his face but he didn’t bother opening his eyes. Instead, he wound his arm around your waist and tugged you down until you were collapsing down on his chest. He sighed happily, nuzzling himself further against you whilst you wiggled in his embrace. 

“You’re ruining your birthday,” you commented, trying to nudge his arm away so you could sit back up. But Oscar didn’t budge a bit.

“It’s my birthday,” he grumbled, his voice still laced with sleep and his accent coating his slurred words a little thicker than normal. “I get to choose what we do and I choose sleeping.”

“That’s boring,” you retorted, twisting in his hold until you were facing him. You reached a hand out, pushing his hair back until you got an unrestricted view of his face squished against the pillow. 

“I happen to like boring birthdays.” 

You snorted, smiling fondly as you leaned down to press a kiss on the tip of his slightly scrunched nose. “You’re not even going to ask what I planned?” 

“If it includes leaving this bed before I have to head to the track, then I’m not interested,” Oscar mumbled, letting out a sigh as your nails began to scratch along his scalp. “I’m quite happy here. Very content. Very happy birthday boy.”

“And if I said your birthday plans start in bed?” 

Oscar paused for a moment. “I’m listening.”

You grinned, lightly poking his cheek until his eyes slowly fluttered open. “Hey.”

He flashed you a lazy smile. “Hi, baby.”

“Happy birthday,” you murmured before you leaned down, pressing a soft but lingering kiss on his lips. 

“Definitely happy,” he hummed in response, huffing a little when you pushed his shoulder so he was lying on his back. “You’re awfully bossy this morning.”

“You like it,” you teased, throwing one leg over his body until you were settled on his lap. In seconds, his hands were on your waist like the reaction was instinctive. 

“Maybe,” he replied, though the light pink painting his cheeks gave him away. His thumbs lightly swiped along your hip bones, slowly pushing the material of your (his) shirt up until he was met with bare skin. “I have to be at the track by ten.”

“It’s only seven,” you retorted.

“That means we could have had a solid two more hours of sleep,” he pointed out, his eyes still a bit bleary from sleep. He was just grateful enough that one of you remembered to pull the curtains shut last night. “You know, cuddling is good for dopamine and stuff.”

Your lips twitched. “Dopamine and stuff?”

“You woke me up five minutes ago, give me a break,” Oscar grumbled, squeezing your hips to emphasise his point. 

“I know something else that would be good for your dopamine and stuff,” you said, grinning a little as you leaned down to peck his lips. “Something for the birthday boy.”

“You keep saying that but—oh shit.”

You watched his eyes flutter shut, his grip on you tightening as you rolled your hips against his. You ducked your head down, lips pressing chaste, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck as you felt his skin flush under your touch. You felt his thumping pulse pounding, could feel the way his body was reacting to you. 

It was fucking intoxicating. 

“Do you still wanna go back to sleep?” You questioned, your voice teasing and a little patronising as you nipped the skin just below his ear.

“Nuh uh,” he breathed out, shaking his head in response. “This is good. This is better.”

You grinned against his skin.

And maybe it was still-half-asleep brain or maybe Oscar just didn’t want to assume, but he wasn’t really expecting more. It was still painfully early for either of you to be awake right now, especially considering how late you had managed to get to the hotel. And he was honestly more than happy to have this, to have his girl on top of him. To have your hands and your lips and your pretty words. To just have you. 

He wasn’t thinking about where it was leading, he was just stuck in the present moment of you, you, you.

His brain hadn’t even fully caught up until your kisses started moving lower, until a few chaste kisses along his collarbone started to move further down his chest. 

“Babe,” he rasped, his head still a little fuzzy with sleep as your breath fanned over the muscles of his stomach.

“Shhh, relax f’me, Osc,” you murmured between soft kisses, fingers tugging the edge of his boxers down as the urge to mark along his v-line overwhelmed you. 

“I—” But the words were lost in the back of his throat as the heel of your palm pressed against the bulge in his boxers, your lips mouthing at the sensitive skin along his hips. 

His eyes fell shut, his head digging back into the pillow as he let himself enjoy every single inch of his body that was being touched by you. The way his hips bucked against your hand, the front of the fabric already wet and stained with precome as you marked pretty bruises on his pale skin. The way your body settled between his thick thighs, nails grazing along his skin until he was squirming and whining underneath you. The way every cell in his body was just so, so responsive to you. 

A guttural moan escaped the back of his throat as you mouthed along his clothed cock, licking a thick strip over the fabric of his boxers as he helplessly buckled beneath your touch. He didn’t think a single thought in his head was about anything but you. He didn’t think he wanted to think about anything else but you. 

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs and throwing them somewhere off the edge of the bed, neither one of you all too bothered where it landed. Instead, you took his hard cock in your hand, not wasting a second before you sucked the tip in your mouth, lapping at the small beads of precome that were already leaking.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he breathed out, his hips bucking further into your mouth but your other hand kept his body planted on the mattress. 

He was fucking helpess. 

He was fucking helpess and he didn’t give two shits about anything other than you. 

There was a vague voice in the back of his head reminding him that it was early, that they had neighbours, that those neighbours were colleagues of his. But it was a passing thought at best for Oscar as he squirmed and wiggled and writhed beneath your touch. It was a problem for future Oscar to deal with. 

And it wasn’t often Oscar was vocal, not like this. But he was sleepy and caught off-guard and, fuck, your mouth just felt like heaven wrapped around his cock. He couldn’t help himself with the whimpers and moans he let out, your name like a mantra as it left his lips on a broken loop. 

Because Oscar Piastri was a weak man when it came to you. 

And when he lifted his head off the pillow to finally look down at you, he about lost whatever semblance of control he had left.

Your hands were placed on his thighs, your nails digging into his skin but the pain was biting and welcomed. Your cheeks were hallowed around his dick, a mix of come and drool leaking from the edges but it just made his stomach twist with a deep desire that he knew would haunt his fantasies for months to come. Your lips were red and swollen, your eyes were glossy and hooded and, fucking hell, the second he met your gaze, it was over for him. 

His hands were gripping the sheets of the duvet beneath him as he came, the pleasure white and hot and overwhelming in every sense of the word. He felt it all over like a hot flush, dancing along his nerve endings and racing down his spine as his body bucked upwards to be closer to you, your mouth, your everything. He was distantly aware of the little whiny noises he made as he came, the ones that were half muffled as he buried his face into his pillow as his orgasm washed over him whilst you lapped at his sensitive cock. 

He couldn’t really find it in himself to be embarrassed when he finally turned back to look at you, seeing you slowly lick your fingers clean from the cum that had leaked out your mouth with a huge grin on your face.

“You’re a menace,” was all he managed to breathe out, throwing his arm over his face to try and recover from mind blowing orgasm and the sight of you shamelessly tasting him. 

“Happy birthday,” you replied cheerfully, crawling back up the bed until you could press a chaste kiss on his cheek before nuzzling yourself against him. “Good start to twenty-three?”

He huffed out a laugh. “I think you might’ve killed me.”

“At least you died young, pretty and satisfied,” you joked, feeling his chest rumble beneath you and it made your stomach twist with something quite like delight. 

“And in love,” he added, his words a little slurred and his cheeks burning a little at his own cheesiness. But it still made you grin.

“I love you too, Osc,” you murmured back.

“I was talking about those sushi rolls we had last night, but yeah I love you too,” he murmured, letting out a short pained noise when you pinched his side. “Ow! What happened to birthday boy privileges?”

“Those ended with the blowjob,” you retorted. “You’re back to normal Oscar now.”

“Hm, that seems a little unfair,” Oscar commented as he wound his arms around your body, hugging you close to his chest like the two of you could melt into one person. 

“Tragic life of being twenty-three,” you teased.

Oscar smiled. “Thank you, seriously.” 

You laughed, lifting your head to look at him. “Did you just thank me for a blowjob?”

The sleepy smile returned. “Yeah, pretty sure I just did.”

“Never beating the polite cat allegations,” you said, lighthearted and sweet and joking as you leaned down to kiss him. “Never change, birthday boy.”

“Never in a million years, baby.” 

.

[evie-sturns]

Cry - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you and your boyfriend, matt, have spent the day together. you've been snapping at him the whole time, until it gets too much for matt and you accidentally make him cry. you find a way to make everything up to him.

contains: sub!matt, nsfw, blowjob?, matt crying, angst.

------------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫-----------------

matt and i have been dating for 7 months, sure, we’ve argued before but it’s never lasted more than a day and it’s never affected us that much. i’ve never seen matt cry, according to his brothers he hates crying infront of people, or even talking about it. 

today we’ve been bickering non stop, i’ve been making snarky comments and snapping at him for pathetic reasons, matt’s just been ignoring it.

9:24pm

i sit on the dining table, matt directly opposite me on his phone as he takes small bites of his dinner. “matt.” i say, my voice almost like a robot.

“mhm?” he hums, his eyes fixed on his screen, i groan, “for fucks sake matt.” i huff under my breath. 

“what is it?” matt asks, his finger continuing to scroll across his screen. 

i don't know why i've been so on edge today, everything matt's done has pissed me off. the way his hand is cemented onto his phone pisses me off.

“fucking stop! you don’t even care about me the only thing you do is go on your phone, your an actual excuse of a boyfriend.”

the words leave my mouth quicker than i can process, i don’t even fully comprehend what i’m saying.

i finish off my yelling fit by slamming matt’s phone out of his hands.

he stands up abruptly, his bottom lip shaking as his eyes well with tears. “don’t fucking say that.” 

i scoff, folding my arms and playing with my nails. matt lets in a sharp inhale, a shaky sob exiting his mouth.

my head snaps up to look at him, he’s got tears soaking his pink cheeks, his lips a raw red. he reaches his ringed fingers up to rub his eyes before speed walking out of the dining room, directly towards our bedroom.

my heart drops, an aching infecting my body. i feel a wave of guilt wash over me, tears somehow prickling in the corners of my eyes. i wipe my face quickly, 

i’ve just made matt cry. shit.

i stand up from my wooden chair, the chair legs screeching on the wooden floor. 

my footsteps tap on the ground as i slowly walk towards matt and i’s shared room, the door is shut. 

i stand outside for a few seconds, pressing my ear, which is decorated in sets of earrings, up to the wooden planks.

i hear sniffles coming from inside the room, and small crys. my heart pounds against my ribs as i twist the door handle.

i’m met with matt’s body which is sitting at his desk, his back facing me. i’m not sure he heard me, so i walk over to him. 

i tap his grey sweater, the cute wool sweater that he wears whenever he’s cold, the sweater his mom gave him in high school, which still fits him.

i feel him tense under me, he swings his head round to look at me, his eyelashes are dark and wet, his cheeks a deep red and his lips swollen. 

i take one look at him and my stomach forms a pit, i wrap my arms around his neck, yanking him into a deathly tight hug as i bend down to his seated height.

matt doesn’t hug me back, his arms hang loosely by his sides. i bury my head into the crook of his neck,

after a few seconds i pull away, visible nerves on my face, matt’s tilts his head down to his lap, where his hands rest, fiddling with his rings.

“matt please, look at me.” i say, my voice barely audible. his head shakes, i nod my head “okay.” i whisper.

“i’m so sorry sweetheart, i didn’t mean any of that, i promise it’s just the week before my period. you know i get in these stupid moods that i can’t handle.”  i say softly,

matt continues to stare down at his lap.

i get down on my knees my hands resting on his thighs, my nails scratching the material of his sweatpants.

im at the height where i can see his full face, his lips slightly pouted. i stare up at him, his eyes lock with mine for a split second. my hands travel to his waistband and grip the elastic, i look up at him again, asking for permission. matt's gaze drifts to my eyes again, he nods, his top teeth sinking into his lower lip.

i pull down his sweatpants to his midthighs, he's got no boxers on, already half hard.

i brush my thumb over his tip, earning a shaky groan from matt. i maintain eye contact with him, i feel him grow fully hard in my hand. i run my hand up his length a few times before taking my hands off him completley.

"please" matt clears his throat, "please what?" i tease, resting my hands on his thighs, he almost looks as though he’s going to cry again,

i can see his breathing intensify, "tell me what you want." i say calmly, matt lets out a whine, his leg bobbing up and down on the spot, "please." matt breathes out again.

i lean foward, wrapping my lips around matt's tip, a soft moan exits his mouth as he gentley tangles his fingers into my hair. i swirl my tongue around his tips before taking more of him further down my throat.

"close-" matt warns, bucking his hips up as his hands grip my hair tighter. i pull off his cock for a second to catch a needed breath,

"i need to." matt protests as his cheeks flush, small droplets of sweat gathering on his forehead, he runs his hand though my hair. i wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, "i know, i know." i say, quickly wrapping my mouth around him again as i scratch his thighs with my nails.

i bob my head up and down quicker, matts whimpers filling the room. i look up at him with doe eyes, he squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting his cock deeper into my mouth.

i can see his breathing intensifying before he releases in my mouth, i pull off of him.

matt leans back in his chair, before quickly reaching a hand down under my mouth, i spit it out into his hand "sorry.." matt laughs slightly, grabbing a bunch of tissues and cleaning his hand and my lips.

"don't say sorry matt, my fault for getting you so worked up." i say, standing up and grabbing matts arm, pulling him up onto his feet. i lead him towards the bed, he stumbles slightly as he recovers from his orgasm.

i sit down on the bed, my back resting against the headboard. matt lays down next to me, i pull his head onto my chest.

"matt, i feel really bad." i start,

"what? for what? that was the best fucking experience i've had all month, the nails did somethin-" he rambles, i cut him off.

"no! about the things i said, and.. you know.. making you cry" i say with a small laugh.

"trust me, you made up for it, can you do the same tomorrow so i can get another blow job." matt smiles, i run a hand through his hair, shaking my head with a scoff.

---------------------

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Four) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 4.8K / navigation / inbox

A/N: Day two begins!! thank you to everyone who's been reading along, and if you're just finding this series for the first time through this part, welcome! I hope you enjoy, and though this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, it packs some punches. You will get more insight into why they act the way that they do in this chapter, in the next chapter! bear with them please, they're dumb </333 please let me know how you're feeling about the series so far! <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Daniel’s shoulders are so broad that they block your view of both the cabin and his face, everything completely obscured by the heaving, sweaty, tanned mass of muscle flexed over you. Daniel’s toned arms frame your head, his lips tug your own into a string of merciless kisses, kisses that leave you panting when you’re granted even the slightest of respite. His cock pumps in and out of your throbbing cunt with every thrust of his strong hips, and all that you’re capable of is a pathetic stream of whines and whimpers as Daniel undoes you.

“Oh Dan- Daniel! Please, harder, I want- I want more, please!” You babble, gripping at his back, smoothing your hands and scratching your nails over every inch of his glistening, taut skin, “Please, please, I need more, please, more- harder, more, I need you!”

Pleasure shoots through your core stronger than you’ve ever felt it before, and you chase the feeling desperately, lifting your hips to press yourself into Daniel’s steady thrusts. The new angle of your body allows for your head to be tipped backwards, and you catch sight of the hazy face that had eluded your vision before. But where Daniel’s scruff blankets his face, there’s only tan, smooth skin, squared at the chin and leading into the tight, determined snarl of none other than Jake Seresin.

“Jake!”

You wake like it’s from a nightmare, a gasp leaving your throat and your stomach dropping at the image of Hangman having his way with you. You’re sweaty and sleep-ruffled, and you realize with a still-throbbing core that you’re clinging to one of his arms, rutting your hips against him like a man starved. 

Fuck. Fuck, your throat is dry which probably means that you’ve been moaning, god forbid his name, and- and he’s going to tell everyone that you’re desperate, and you’re never going to be able to look him in the eyes, and you might as well quit your job because he’s won and there’s nothing you’ll ever be able to do to make up for how ashamed you’re going to be… when he wakes up.

He’s asleep.

His lashes are softly resting above his strong cheekbones, lids covering eyes that did not witness you at your most vulnerable. He didn’t see, he’s been asleep- he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know, which means that you never have to talk about it, which means that you can go to the bathroom and take a cold shower and pretend that you woke up on the floor instead- maybe you’ll even tell him he kicked you off in the middle of the night so that he feels bad enough not to tease you for the day. And nobody ever has to know that he’s in your dreams, whether they be that or nightmares.

You stagger out from under the bedsheets and over to the small bathroom faster than you’ve ever been awake and alert in your life, and you’re instantly relieved by the sanctuary of the bathroom when it lets you shut a door between you and Jake.

--

The slamming of the door or the squeaking of the shower knobs is not what wakes Jake. It happened to be a very loud, very wanton cry barely minutes prior, when he’d woken to find your pinched-up face buried into the heated skin of his bicep. You’d whined and whimpered and moaned until a very sizeable tent had grown in his pants, and you’d fucked your hips onto his thigh over and over and over again until he’d felt a wet patch blossom that stuck his boxers to his thigh. He’d remained civil- respectful about it, keeping still even if his mind was racing, but when you’d suddenly moaned out his own name- Jake would have reached for his cock but that was when you’d woken, and he’d already had his eyes snapped shut in the desperation of conjuring a mental image of you writhing below him so that it seemed like he was still asleep. Blessedly disguised, Jake listens as you beeline for the bathroom, and when the door slams, his eyes fly open.

A quick glance beneath the sheet reveals a stain of translucent slick that’s soaked into his boxers, big enough to account for the way you’d been grinding so desperately onto his thigh. Knowing that you’d said his name, not Daniel or Damien or Dallas or Dalton or Devon- you’d been dreaming of him. It’s enough to have Jake frantically prying at the hem of his boxers, tugging on his cock with one rough fist while the other hand prods desperately at the wet spot on his boxers for something to lick up. Jake was the name you’d said, Jake is the man you’re thinking of.

--

Jake cannot be the man you’re thinking of. You don’t have nearly enough energy when you close yourself into the bathroom to shower right away, so you take to sitting dejectedly on the lid of the toilet rather than scrubbing down right away. But you feel dirty, you feel wrong for fantasizing about the jerk from work instead of the dreamboat you’d frenched in an elevator less than 24 hours prior. It’s not fair. Why does your brain have to latch onto Jake? Why can’t you just be peacefully separate from him, why does he have to nail himself to your door and bleed through the gaps? 

And why did he have to dress you in lingerie? 

You realize you’re staring down at your pink silk-covered stomach, and your nose scrunches when you note how little fabric there is to cover what’s between your legs. Christ, he couldn’t have dressed you in something a little more modest?

Although, you suppose, you didn’t bring anything more modest. Actually, the pink getup is probably the most modest nightgown you’ve got- you’d anticipated sex. So he gets a pass on that one, but you’re still peeved about the way he won’t leave your head. 

The shower is warm and being clean feels delightful against your slick skin, washing away the sins you’d rubbed into Jake’s thigh, but you’re so disturbed by your dream- or more so it’s subsequent meaning, that you can barely enjoy any of it.

In stepping out of the shower you realize you’d been in such a rush to get in that you’d forgotten to take clothes with you. But if you’re lucky, at least Jake will still be asleep, and you won’t have to endure any-

“Fancy droppin’ that towel, darlin’? Since you got in the shower without me, I figure it’s only fair I get to see what I missed.”

Any teasing. If Jake was still asleep, you wouldn’t have to endure any teasing. But there he is, hair tousled from sleep, eyes slightly bleary, but smirk in full force as he stares at your towel-clad form.

You’d be locked and loaded with a quip back any other day, but the memory of the pleasure writhing through your veins like blood itself at Jake’s hands has thrown you severely off-kilter. Instead you stand there, winded, lost for words as a strange and unexpected surge of tears sting at your eyes.

Jake notices, blinking as the smirk vanishes instantly from his face.

“Hey, woah, that’s- don’t do that. I was just teasing, don’t- don’t do that.”

“I’m not-” You defend uselessly, blinking rapidly as you back towards your suitcase, but Jake’s concern dims into something like disappointment.

He recites, “We didn’t do anything last night. You were shit-faced and you passed out the second you were in bed. I’m not…” He struggles, glancing away from you and towards the wall in thinly-veiled distaste, “I wouldn’t do that.”

You’re almost as stunned by the accusation as he seems. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind at all, but- in another man’s hands, you might not have been safe. You hadn’t felt a sliver of distrust towards Jake, and there’s something strange about that. Would you have felt comfortable going home with Daniel? Perhaps last night, several drinks in, you would have. But now you feel a strange camaraderie with Jake, now he feels familiar and safe and you’re glad he was the one to escort you to bed. You’re not used to respecting him, to relying on him, to letting your guard down around him. But you had, and you had even forgotten that you might not have been safe until he’d brought it up himself, convinced your crying fit is because of some awful thing you think he did to you last night.

You’d much rather use that excuse, but you’ll give credit where credit is due.

“I know,” You admit softly, clutching your towel tight around your body, “I didn’t think- thank you for taking me to bed.”

He doesn’t speak- he doesn’t think he ever could. But he nods, once, face tight and stiff because if it wasn’t it’d be soft. And you’d already shorn deep into his newly unguarded, tender flesh- he doesn’t need more wounds.

“Are we eating breakfast together?” Is your indirect way of asking- nay, demanding that he eat with you as thanks for the night prior without actually asking. Because asking would be crazy, you don’t even like him.

And you don’t want to eat with him, except for the fact that you eat with him near every day, and if you’re not going to be in a candlelight setting, you might be able to convince yourself that you’re not on a sex cruise, and that you’re just eating with your fri- teammate. That you’re just eating with your teammate, and all else can be ignored. Especially your dream.

“‘Was plannin’ on it. Hey, wear your bathing suit under that,” Jake nods at the romper you’ve chosen for the day, “We’re goin’ swimming after breakfast.”

You raise a brow at his tone, “Oh, are we? I was planning on meeting Daniel.”

“Where?”

“He mentioned going to the pizza place for lunch.”

Jake snorts, “Real romantic. Well, I walked by there the other day, and the pizza place is a poolside bar. So, put on that skimpy little bathing suit I saw in your suitcase, and you can swim with me until Danny-boy gets there.”

“I don’t want to swim with you,” You feel a little like a petulant toddler snapping back at him, but it’s true. You don’t want to be splashed and dunked and held down in what will surely prove to be the most stressful time you’ve ever had in a body of water- which is really saying something, because you’d had to eject into the Pacific before. Breakfast is one thing- a thank-you. This is different and you’d rather have a tooth pulled.

“Fine, then, princess. Sit on a lounge chair and read a book. I don’t care, just come with me.” You think this might be an invitation, a genuine hand outstretched amidst the numerous other jabs you’ve taken over the duration of your voyage so far. You meet his eye, but there’s a mischievous glint in them and it’s too late to stop him before he continues, “I’ve gotta keep my lady close, or else there’ll be a swarm of other passengers beggin’ to hang off my arm, and we’ll sink the ship if everyone rushes to one side.”

It’s pathetic to admit that you have nothing better to do than go with Jake. His cockiness creates scenarios that are so easy to refuse- so tempting to reject if only to see the light in his eyes fade into a more manageable dulled hue. Now though, you’re stuck. You’re not willing to spend the entire time on board locked away in your cabin hiding from Jake- you came for the fun and sun, dammit. And being in the sun sounds lovely, and the main character of the novel you’re reading will bring you a welcome respite from Jake until Daniel comes to sweep you off of your feet.

“I am not getting in the water,” You warn, fishing your bathing suit out of your suitcase while keeping a firm hold on your towel, “I am going to sit on a lounge chair and read a book. And you’re going to leave me alone, and do whatever it is you like doing in the pool. Chase those little diving rings, maybe?”

“I’m not six.” Jake wrinkles his nose in distaste, “I use the torpedoes, like a real man.”

Your eyes itch to roll back into your skull until they’re stuck there, and you never have to see his smug face again.

“Your torpedoes, then. Get my book from out of my bag,” You nod towards your purse, “And bring your own towel, because I’m not getting one for you.”

The door drowns out the beginning of Jake’s bitching when it slams behind you, but even in the tiled bathroom you can still hear him speak.

“-prissy today, aren’t you! Y’know, the hunk on the cover of this romance looks a lot like me. And- ohhh,” Jake’s wicked laugh instills fear- real, actual fear in your chest as you rush to get dressed, “This is one of them porn books, ain’t it?”

He’s holding the book like a trophy when you finally step out of the bathroom in your bikini, the way a fisherman would proudly display a 38 pound halibut. It’s got a cowboy on the front that’s wearing a hat similar to the one Jake wears at ‘Honky Tonk Night’ at the Hard Deck, and the female lead is draped over his chest, leaning in for a kiss.

“Wanna roleplay it, darlin’?” Jake moves forward, his free hand reaching for your waist to force you against him like you’re on the cover of your novel, “You could do exactly what it says on the cover, ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.”

You catch his arm instead and use it to give you leverage in your attempt to take back your book, but he’s holding it high over his head, and he’s tall even without his combat boots giving him a good extra inch or two. 

“Daniel’s got a bit of a southern drawl,” You choose to fight with words if you can’t win a battle of heights, and Jake’s bicep tightens in place as he tenses, muscles flexing.

“That boy’s got nothin’ on mine,” Jake tilts his chip upwards- ah, so you’ve hit a weak spot: that precious Texan heritage he boasts about.

“I like his better. It’s subtle, not too in-your-face.” You shrug, and now that Jake’s frozen, buffering, you’re able to reach up and take back your book without him fighting back. But he follows you when you step away, and your back hits the wall of the cabin when he leans forward and down to match your height.

“See that?” He inspects your expression, and even though you’re wide-eyed in bewilderment he finds something satisfying in it - “You like it when I’m in your face.”

Maybe it’s your proximity- the way his face is closer to yours than it was even in your dream last night, or maybe it’s the way he murmurs the words instead of boasting them, like they’re a secret. Something strips you of your ability to fire back, and you share a moment of silence before he pulls away and gathers a set of towels from the corner of the room.

He’s wearing his swim trunks already. You hadn’t noticed. Well, you’d noticed his lack of a shirt, but you hadn’t bothered to check what was below that. You’ve seen him in them before, a beach day with the dagger squad or a pool party for Penny’s birthday, but you’re not sure you’ve ever noticed the faint fish hook outlines on them.

“I can feel you lookin’,” Jake snickers, giving you a rather impressive view of his ass, “I’ll let you squeeze it if you admit Daniel’s not all that great.”

“The only thing I wanna squeeze is your neck, Hangman,” You scoff, hurriedly looking away from his ass and gathering your belongings- key card, phone, book that’s been discarded on the bed, “Now let’s get out of here before I change my mind and lock you out of our cabin.”

“Oh, but you’d be so bored in here without me,” Jake’s croon exudes fake sympathy, “Who would you bicker with all day?”

“Not Daniel.” You purr, grinning mischievously as you head for the elevators, your door clicking shut behind you as Jake nearly steps on your feet, “If I was with Daniel, he wouldn’t be able to talk through all the pussy on his tongue.”

That shuts him up.

The elevator ride is silent, and by the look on Jake’s face, you’d have thought he’d been declared a spare on a mission amongst a group of new recruits. HIs jaw is stone-set, sharp and tight, and his eyes bore uselessly but fiercely into the silver wall as the elevator moves up- something is brewing in that hard head of his.

Finally, some fucking peace and quiet.

Something about the ding of the elevator snaps him out of his funk, and he holds the door open to the breakfast hall for you with his signature shit-eating grin. It’s the same place you’d eaten lunch the day before, and you wish again for Daniel to knock knees with you beneath the table. It had been so cutesy, so intimate, so-

“Here,” Jake plucks two trays off of the stack, one for you and one for him, “I’ll hold it while you load up a plate.”

“I can do it myself,” You insist, snatching the tray from his hands and setting an empty plate on top of it, “I’m not falling for that act, Hangman. You’ll steal my breakfast if I let you hold it.”

“Now that’s not true,” He scolds, scooping eggs onto his plate, “I’ll steal it no matter what.”

The ship’s pancakes look surprisingly well-made, and you’re starting to marvel at how nice the amenities are for the price you’d paid. Maybe you’d been the guinea pig voyage, and they’re testing how feasible this sort of thing really is. 

“Hands off my syrup, Hangman,” You elbow him in the side, bumping him out of line for fresh pastries while you snag one for yourself, “I don’t want your sticky fingers getting all over my book.”

“So you do want me readin’ that thing,” He grins, reaching over you to pluck a chocolate croissant off of the tray, unbothered by your teasing, “I guess I’ll need to get into character. Tell me, how big is he? Anything under nine inches just won’t be realistic for me.”

“Please! I’ve heard things from Rooster,” You laugh, topping your plate off with butter packets, “Four is more like it.”

“You tell Rooster,” Hangman shoots a hand out, stopping you from snagging an empty seat at a table for two, “That he’s gotta stop swapping our measurements. Tell him to keep my name out of his mouth.” He pulls the chair out, clearly expecting you to sit.

Under his fiery, watchful gaze, you sit.

You don’t know what makes you do it; you’ve always felt Hangman’s faux-chivalry was condescending at best. He always seems to be mocking you- let me do it because you can’t, or let me do it because I don’t think you should.

Now it seems more like let me do it because I want to. And for that reason, you’ve obeyed.

Hangman’s terse mood from earlier seems to flicker in and out, but breakfast is pleasantly casual- nothing like your tense candlelight dinner the night before. 

“You’re lucky Phoenix isn’t here,” You raise your brows briefly at Hangman, eyeing the way he’s sprawled out over the bench, “She’d tell you to quit manspreading.”

“I like manspreading,” Hangman grins, thankfully concealing his mouthful of food in the process instead of showing it off, “Let’s everyone know what I’m working with.”

After a quick, fake look at his crotch, you decide, “Nothing?”

He takes the teasing good-naturedly, rolling his eyes and insisting, “You’re gonna be sorry when you find out how wrong you were, darlin’. First time y’see it your eyes are gonna bug out of your head.”

“I’d prefer not to see it at all,” Your nose wrinkles, “I’m perfectly happy with your current state of dress.”

“I know that’s right,” He snickers, “I saw you eyein’ up my tight little swim trunks earlier.”

“I was not.” You snap, but he’s only goaded into being further convinced, “Your back was to me, how could you have possibly known where I was looking?”

“I heard you stop moving the second I bent over,” He winks at you, and it’s a gaudy, grotesque display of cockiness, “You were transfixed, darlin’. One look and you forgot what you were doing.”

“That was because I couldn’t believe how skimpy your legs are,” You speak around a mouthful of pancakes, perhaps not the best etiquette but you’re not trying to impress anyone. “Next time you hit the gym, work on your calves.”

“Skimpy? Skimpy?” He shoves his foot into your lap, forcing you to stare at his exposed calf as you try avoiding the sole of his flip-flop on your bare stomach. You shriek, and you try tamping down laughter that threatens to escape as you attempt to shove him off of you. 

“These things are tree trunks,” Jake insists, and when you finally manage to wrestle his leg off of you he leaves it on your side of the table, his foot resting just beside your own, close enough to touch.

“You want some?” Jake offers you a forkful of scrambled eggs, but you shake your head, leaning away from the fork.

“Fine. Picky.” Jake shrugs, eating the eggs himself, “How come you’ll eat off of Payback’s fork but not mine? You think you’ll get all blushy if our lips touch the same thing?”

“I’m thinking I’ll vomit, not blush,” You correct him, “Payback brushes his teeth every once in a while, so eating off of his fork’s no big deal.”

“Damn, you’re vicious today!” Hangman observes, but he doesn’t settle into the back of the seat like you’d expected him to. It unnerves you when he leans forwards, “I brush my teeth twice a day,” He insists, and this time his antics are a little more intense than hiking his foot into your lap, “See?”

He stands so that he can lean farther over the table, flashing his grin in your face like you’re the lens of a camera he’s modeling for. It’s so forcibly charming, so irritatingly dazzling that leaning away- showing weakness - doesn’t even cross your mind, and you’re stuck staring at his pearly whites mere inches away from them, a sour scowl on your face.

“No cavities in sight,” He drawls, “But if you don’t believe me, you can inspect it yourself. Thinkin’ your tongue might work.”

“You’re a sicko,” You decide, your face blank, if not a smidge downturned as you sit inches away from Jake’s grin in full-force, “Sit down, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I’m embarrassing you.” He corrects, sinking back into the plush booth with a hiss of air and the spreading of his legs once more, “I can tell you’re blushin’ over there.”

“Must be an allergic reaction to something,” You sigh morosely, observing your plate, “There’s probably an ungodly amount of chemicals in all of this.”

“Tastes fresh to me,” Jake shrugs, reaching his fork across the table to pick at your fruit, “Give me that.”

“No- not the melon!” You clash your fork against his, an ugly scraping sound created by metal-on-metal as you fight to protect your fruit, “You can take anything else, just not the melon!”

“You can have my melons,” A smooth, melodious voice straight out of a porn intro comes from beside the table, and you and Jake look up in unison to see a woman in stiletto pumps and a skirt standing next to your seats.

Jake barely takes a second to process her bold words, and his face melts like butter into that greasy grin he’s always sporting around the ladies.

“Is that so? Well, thank you darlin’, that’s very kind of you. Might take you up on that if this one keeps holding out for a nobody.”

Jake points his fork vaguely, uncaringly at you, eyes still glued to the woman’s low neckline- her melons are, admittedly, nothing to sneeze at.

You find yourself incapable of speaking, so you take to pulverizing your fruit on your tongue instead of talking to the woman.

Once she and Jake have properly eye-fucked she struts away, and your nose curls to make way for a sneer at the clicking of her heels on the floor.

“What a bitch.” You retort, and Jake’s all-too-pleased with your indignance, “And those fucking heels? Who wears heels to breakfast on a cheap cruise?”

“Hey, I thought you were into all that girls-supporting-girls stuff,” Jake munches on a grape, “Ain’t that a little judgy? Maybe she feels pretty in the heels.”

“Girls support girls’ girls,” You insist, shaking your head disapprovingly, as Jake tries processing the tongue twister, “She was not a girls’ girl. She was trying to take my man!”

“Your man? I’m your man now?” Jake leans forward again, suddenly extremely interested in you rather than Miss Miniskirt, “When did that happen? The second someone else tried snatching me up?”

“No, you’re not my man,” You scoff, fork clattering against your plate, “But when we’re on a sex cruise together as unfortunate roommates, and we’re dining together, conversation flowing, clearly engaged with each other- when you were just leaning across the table asking me to lick your teeth two seconds ago- no girls’ girl would swoop in and try to take you away from me!”

“I think you’re just jealous,” Hangman points that damn fork at you again, and you still in your seat, prickling with annoyance, “I think you’re pretending to be all wrapped up in Daniel so that I go crazy, but it almost backfired on you when she started chattin’ me up. Hell, you called me your man! You can’t have it both ways, Y/N. Either let me go, or make me stay.”

“Go.” You seethe, eyes flashing with anger, with the indignance of being accused of puppetting him. You’ve been on edge this whole voyage, but something about his audacity combined with the sheer mortification of your dream last night means that your mouth is running without a filter. “I’m not pretending anything, Hangman, and- and I’m not going to ‘make you stay’, that’s ridiculous! I’m interested in Daniel. If you really want a woman who swoops in on what looks like a couple, then by all means, have at her. But you don’t get to bitch about Daniel and then act like I’m some controlling monster when I try to stop you from talking to bad ideas.”

“I’m not bitching about Daniel,” There’s a dangerous edge to Jake’s voice, the one that’s typically heard on the tarmac, “I’m trying to-”

“You’re trying to control me!” You accuse, and now it’s you that wields the fork, aiming it violently at Jake.

“I wasn’t done.” Jake snaps, but you don’t care.

You continue over his meager protests, “You are bitching about Daniel, 24/7. You’re trying to knock him out of the way so that you can schmooze me like you schmooze women back home, and it’s not going to work. You use people, Hangman, you hook up with women and then you push them away like they’re pathetic when they try staying with you for longer than a night! But I know you better than they do, and I won’t fall for it. You think I’m dumb? You think I don’t realize how much of a leg up you’d have at work if you got to tell everyone I fell for your little game? That’s why you want it so bad,” You huff, “You’re, like, obsessed with winning now- because I fly with you, and because I’m the only woman who’s ever told you no, you’re going crazy trying to get me to say yes! You are the one freaking out whenever Daniel talks to me! You are the one that’s clinging desperately to the unfortunate coincidence of us being roommates, and you are the one who refuses to let go. You won’t win. You cannot make me stay.”

Jake’s mouth had been open during your vicious speech, ready to fire back in a tone that would have made your skin crawl, but when you finish off, it falls shut. He stares, on the brink of disaster, one slip of the controls away from tailspinning. He’s always been like that: dangerous. 

You don’t give him the option to spin out.

“I’m not hungry anymore. You know what? You can have the fucking melon,” You stand, dumping your remaining fruit unceremoniously onto Jake’s plate as he stays frozen stiff, watching, “Maybe you’ll get lucky and score hers, but I doubt she’ll be interested if she’s not competing with anyone anymore.”

You barely remember to grab your belongings on the way out of the breakfast hall, and you don’t spare Jake another glance as you beeline for the elevators.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[plussizeficchick]

Close to You | Denki x Chubby!Reader

Summary; Denki doesn’t play when it comes to threats to your relationship, even at the expense of his friends.

Warnings: smut (p in v, implied cunnilingus, breeding kink (I mean it’s me😂) slight quirkplay) mean!Denki (but really only to his friend, he takes it out on your pussy though😣) dickhead!bakugo. Not proofread!

SN: I will be posting the Jungkook fic soon!!😭but this is just a little snack I had preplanned until then😉😂

You weren’t quite sure how you got here.

As soon as Denki stormed through your door, everything had been a bit of a blur. The only things you were able to make out of the senseless rambling was “fucking dickhead” “can make her come harder than anything” “gonna fuckin’ breed her”.

That, that had your pussy quivering.

While you were busy pondering what brought on this sudden shift in your boyfriend’s mood, Denki was thinking of all the different ways he was going to show everyone just how much you’re his.

— —

“Does he always talk to you like that?” Denki looks up at you from where his head is resting on your lap. “Who?” He asks, brows furrowed in confusion. 

You’d both decided it was time for you to meet his friends and he couldn’t have been more excited about it. You met with the group at a homey sports bar for the more relaxed atmosphere and besides a few minor flubs, he thought you all got along well. You and Mina made plans to get your nails done together, you recommended the rolling papers you use to Sero, and Kirishima hadn’t found someone with his sense of humor in ages. You even managed to bring Bakugo out of his shell, bouncing recipes off of one another seamlessly. So he wondered what went wrong.

“Bakugo, I don’t really like how he talks to you.” You try to convey without looking controlling. “Like when he calls you stupid and things like that. I mean he even had you running around, getting stuff for him today like you’re some “errand boy”.” “That’s just how he is,” Denki waves you off. He was used to Bakugo’s antics after having gone to school with him, so he knows better than to take it to heart. “And he doesn’t genuinely mean it when he calls me dumb.” He chuckles, focusing his attention back to what’s playing on TV. You sigh, a bit unsatisfied with his answer. “You know your friends better than I do,” You start, carding your fingers through his blonde tresses. “I just don’t think it’d kill him to be a bit kinder to you. You’re not in high school anymore, you don’t have to cater to him.” You say, pressing a kiss to his forehead. But what you said got him thinking.

— — 

If Denki was being honest, he was pretty accustomed to the way things were. And if he hadn’t met you, he was sure that this would’ve been his everyday life.

You hadn’t meant to initially, but you made him realize that there was a sort of hierarchy within his friend group with Bakugo at the head and after being with you for so long, he realized he was actually getting fucking sick of it.

Sure, Bakugo’s kind of behavior is expected when you’re a hormonal teen struggling with new emotions, but now it’s time to get a fucking grip.

He hadn’t even meant for everything to go down the way it did, but Katsuki’s nothing if not a shit starter.

— —

“and then Mina’s gonna pick her up so they can get their nails done. I’m pretty sure they’re gonna head back to (Y/N)’s place to get ready and we can pick them up from there.” Kirishima explained to Denki, whilst simultaneously narrowly dodging a blue shell in Mario Kart. Denki grunts in frustration, his character having slipped on a banana peel. “That sounds good, gives us plenty of time-” He’s cut off by Katsuki’s brash voice sounding from the couch. “Hey, Dunceface, go and get me a milk carton from the kitchen.”

Now, normally Denki would’ve made a playful comment about Katsuki being lazy before getting up and doing what he was told, but after being with you, after spending so much time working on bettering himself not just for you, but for himself, he’s not just gonna be walked all over anymore.

“Nah I’m in the middle of something, anyways, Kiri. I was think-” “HAH?! Did ya fuckin’ hear me? I wasn’t asking-” “Is it really that serious, Bakugo? I’m doing something so just get it yourself.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at Bakugo’s immaturity. Both Kirishima and Sero watch the display with baited breath, unsure why Kaminari suddenly has a death wish. Bakugo’s eyes widen at the blatant disrespect, sparks threatening to shoot from his hands, however, Kaminari doesn’t back down.

Katsuki narrows his eyes before a humorless chuckle escapes him, “Oh, I get it. Ever since Chubs decided to fuck with your dumbass you think you’re a big man. But no matter who you fuck, Dunceface you’ll always be the idiot who can’t function after using their quirk.” Bakugo practically spits. 

If Katsuki had said something like this around a year ago, Denki would’ve probably sulked and went to do what Bakugo had told him to, but now, he felt nothing but pure indifference. “You know something Bakugo, I really used to admire you,” Kaminari starts, a smug smirk making its way to Bakugo’s lips. “I really thought I wanted to be strong like you. But now, now I just feel sorry for you. I mean you spend everyday comparing yourself to Midoriya, you’re shitty to everyone who fucking cares about you and you’re so insufferable to everyone else that no one else genuinely WANTS to get near you.” A humorless chuckle leaves Denki’s own lips, grateful to finally get this off his chest. “You think people want to be around you because you’re cool when the only reason they can even stand to be near you is because of how dangerous your QUIRK is. People wouldn’t give a fuck about you otherwise.” Kaminari stands, collecting his stuff before moving towards the door, “I’ll see you guys later,” He emphasized to Kirishima and Sero. “Maybe you can get him to be an actual decent human being.” He scoffs, walking out of Kirishima’s apartment.

Bakugo’s left stunned, Kirishima’s shocked and Sero’s impressed. Though, it doesn’t take long for Bakugo’s shock to turn to anger, explosions ready to burst from his hands. “He’s. Fucking. DEAD!!” He exclaims, and that’s all it takes to snap Kirishima out of his stupor, trying his best to calm the explosive blonde down.

— —

It’s difficult for you to form a coherent thought with the sound of skin slapping against your ears.

You’re on your knees, arch pressed deep into your back as Denki slams his cock deep inside you. You gasp at the intrusion, but you have no time to recover as he sets an unforgiving pace. “He’s a fucking bitch. Doesn’t know shit.” He growls under his breath, hips canting against the fat of your ass, the sight of the rippling skin making his mouth water. You’re trying to talk, want to ask him what happened at Kirishima’s place, but then he’s slamming against that gummy spot deep inside and you keen. 

You’re limp, practically dead weight as Denki flips you over onto your back. He has your knees pressed against your chest, your pudgy tummy folded over as he slams his hips against yours, the fat jiggling deliciously. 

“Please,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath as he aims directly for your g-spot, your cunt clenching at his unforgiving pace. “Fucker thinks he knows shit about us, I’ll fucking show ‘im.” Denki mutters under his breath, cock throbbing at the warm wetness surrounding it.

He’s ravenous, tongue laving at your neck, sucking the skin harshly. You whine as his hands reach to pinch your nipples, your clit twitching signs of your impending release. “Please, baby. Let me cum, please.” You beg, tears threatening to pool in your eyes. The sight has Denki feeling a bit merciful, after all, you weren’t the one to rile him up. 

So he pulls back a bit, sitting back on his haunches to grind his cock deep inside you, hitting spots you couldn’t dare reach on your own. He guides one of his hands down to your clit, using little shocks from his quirk on the bundle of nerves.

The feeling sends a new wave of arousal gushing from your already sore cunt, but you’re nothing if not greedy for his cum. “Want you to cum in me, baby. Wanna feel you fill me up.” You murmur, cradling his face in your palms. You do your best to keep eye contact, though, with the way his cock is drilling inside you, the action is difficult. You connect your lips together and the act has Denki’s hips stuttering before he thrusts once, twice and he’s filling you up, snatching your nth orgasm unexpectedly from you.

You slowly pull away from each other, though Denki is sure to keep his cock nestled deep inside you, flipping you both over so that you’re on top of him. You trace shapes on his bare chest, slowly coming down from your highs. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?” 

Denki sighs as he thinks back on what led him here. There was no doubt that the dynamic in the friend group has shifted, whether that was in his favor or not remained to be seen but what he could see was right in front of him.

You.

You were his present and his future, and as he slips his cock out of your sore cunt and the rush of his cum gushes from you like a river, his mouth waters at the idea of this being his new everyday. He shakes his head as he pushes you to lay back, situating himself between his new home.

“Just wanted to be close to you.”

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @cherries-c0la @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon @c0pkiller

[roolette]

How Mk1 Men Fuck You

CW: NSFW, gn!reader

Bi-Han is just mean about it, frankly. Teasing you, never exactly hitting the spot you need him to, close enough to feel it, but not enough to really do much. And don't bother begging with him. He'll just roll his eyes and scoff, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb and not doing anything to give you release.

"I've barely touched you... how are you that desperate already? Honestly, it's ridiculous. You'll get what you want, just be quiet."

When he finally fucks you, it's at a relentless pace, holding your hips in place as he thrusts into you. He's stopped the teasing now, and is wholly focused on making you fall apart in his arms.

Tomas just wants to make you happy. He begs to taste you, to let him touch you where he wants to. He whines at the slightest touch from you, and you both know that you're the only one who can elicit these reactions from him. He could spend forever between your thighs, seriously, he'd die happy there. He'll run his hands up and down your thighs while he gives you head, he has to be touching you.

"Ahh... you look so... like this, I mean- don't tease me! I'll come up with a good description, just... let me have this."

PLEASE hold his jaw and make him look at you while you ride him. Remind him that he's yours, and he'll practically melt. He'll likely be the more vocal out of the two of you, babbling about how good you feel.

Kuai Liang is possessive in bed, but how can you blame him? It's the place where you're his, completely. And maybe this is just me being insane over that skin where his hair is up, but but he likes when you pull his hair while he fucks into you. You can also run your nails along his back, and good luck to anyone who comments on it. He's yours, and you're his, and he wants sex with you to be a reminder of that. He likes being able to look at you while he fucks you, especially those lovely expressions you make.

"No, don't look away. Keep your eyes on me. I don't want to miss a second of this."

You didn't initially expect him to be so open with his feelings in bed, but he likes to be vulnerable with you. He feels safe with you, and he doesn't have to be anyone but yours.

When it comes to fast and hard, it's Johnny Cage. Sex with him is always so energetic, and you have to wonder where that energy comes from. Admittedly, it took some time in the relationship for him to be intimate or slow with you, but you got there. Even then, he just likes sex to be fun. He'll crack jokes, tease you, or randomly bite you when you're least expecting it. He'll thrust up into you while you ride him, just to be a dick and throw you off balance. Have I mentioned he's a brat? Because he's a brat.

"So. You come here often? Well, you're about to, and- hey, ow! I'm supposed to be on camera, you know."

When he's intimate and slow, though, he really is. He'll whisper praises in your ear, words so genuine that it makes you blush more than the things he's doing to you. Everything he's too afraid to say sometimes, it all falls apart when you're in his arms.

I'm SICK and TIRED of people saying that Raiden doesn't know anything about sex, etc. He is loving, tender, and occasionally giggly. He sees sex as another way to be near you and show you how much he loves you. He'll kiss you all over while he's inside you, and he loves to praise you. He likes to fuck you with you in his lap and your legs wrapped around his waist. It's perfect, really. He can go deep inside you and look at you at the same time.

"You look so perfect like this. I'll move, love, I promise, just let me watch you for a moment."

He can make you cum fast, but he chooses not to. He likes to draw out your pleasure. Less to tease, and more to make it last as long as possible. He wants to fall apart with you.

Kenshi is going to make you cum on his fingers before he even thinks about fucking you. He's infuriatingly good at it, too. He'll leave you gasping and moaning just from his fingers, and he can't help but smile smugly about it, which only makes it more frustrating. You can beg him to fuck you, but it won't work. That's happening when he decides to, and not a moment sooner. So you may as well get used to cumming on his fingers.

"You're seriously still begging? C'mon, you know it's not going to work. Still, it's nice hearing you like this."

When he finally fucks you, it's slow and rough, going as deep as possible with each stroke. He'll wrap his arms around you while he does, face pressed against your shoulders, muttering praises and teasing words against your skin.

[bananami]

STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

[sturnioz]

‘BAD HABITS’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut

word count. 6.6k

❝you know you're my favourite.❞

content warnings. toxic situationship, jealousy, heavy mentions of alcohol and weed, dealer!matt indications, explicit content, manhandling, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, mean!matt, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie.

Don’t look at him.

You mentally tell yourself as you forcibly tear your gaze away from Matt who enters into the house party with a girl at his side, capturing a glimpse in your peripheral vision of how his hand rests at the base of her back, guiding her through the crowded room.

Stop looking at him.

You remind yourself again when your gaze inevitably draws back to him, and from across the room, you find yourself fixated on his every move. You watch as he greets his brothers and friends with grins and handshakes before settling onto the couch they’re occupying. The girl follows, gracefully positioning herself beside Matt, her hands adorned with sharp manicured nails gliding onto his thigh.

Stop.

Your tongue prods at your cheek in annoyance as you watch how close they lean into each other to speak, how Matt’s words seem to make her giggle and she flicks her hair behind her shoulder when Matt smiles at her, clearly enjoying his obvious flirtatious comments. Irritated, your grip tightens around the cup you’ve been nursing all night, and yor forcefully tear your eyes away from the scene as Matt’s gaze finally meets yours.

The relationship you have with Matt is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, and it’s not one you’re eager to let go of anytime soon. Matt is a friend—someone who you can rely on when things go south, someone who picks you up in his car for late-night food runs and smokes weed until the sun rises, and he’s someone who you actively sleep with just to get rid of that dull ache between your thighs.

You hate how well he knows your body, sometimes even better than you know it yourself. You hate how easy it is for him to whisper things into your ear, igniting something within you that leaves you breathless and yearning for more. You hate how his touch makes you weak and desperate, craving for more than just his hands. You hate how his eyes alone can have you on your knees in an instant, and his cock weighing heavily on your tongue.

But you know deep down that you have some sort of effect on Matt too, always finding it amusing how easy it was to get him alone with you, to make him drop whatever he was doing just to be in your presence. It, admittedly, brings you a lot of satisfaction in knowing that you both have some kind of similar hold over each other.

Although, there have been a handful of moments where he has ignored or rejected you, much like tonight.

It was you who had invited him to come to this party.

It was you that brought it up to him when you were fucking in the backseat of his car. 

It was you that had asked him to accompany you, only for you to be shut down and told that he wasn’t interested in ‘some lame house party’, and instead revealing that he had other plans for that night.

Before you even arrived at the party earlier, you saw the Snapchat story posted by the girl who is currently clinging to his side like a leech. The image was blurry, but you could make out her holding two joints, with a caption tagging Matt to thank him, and promising a fun night. 

At first, you figured it was a deal, being aware that Matt sometimes sells his weed on the side for extra cash, but you never expected that his ‘other plans’ would involve bringing her to a party he rejected coming to in the first place.

It honestly made you fucking pissed.

You mentally chastise yourself to get a grip and you scoff loudly, tilting your head back and gulping down the rest of your drink, the alcohol searing your throat and momentarily distracting you from your own fiery emotions. You lower the cup, swiping the back of your hand at the corner of your lips and wiping away any lingering traces of the liquid just as your best friend nears with you a drunken flush.

“Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Anna exclaims as she flings her arms around your shoulders for a hug, but her embrace falters as she notices the sour expression on your face. “What’s happened?”

“I’m out,” You say, gesturing towards your empty cup with a tight lipped smile, trying to hold yourself back from admitting—”Oh. And Matt’s here.”

“I thought he said no to coming?” Anna’s brows knit together in confusion, and she glances over your shoulder in search, catching a glimpse of Matt and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. But her expression quickly shifts to one of exasperation as she rolls her eyes, directing her attention back to you. “Are we really surprised? You know exactly what Matt’s like.”

“I know.” You hate it.

Anna continues, “He’s always been like this.”

“I know.” You really hate it.

Anna takes a moment to stare at you before she sighs, her shoulders slumping as she crosses her arms over her front. “Yet, it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re thinking about him right now.”

She’s got you there. “I know…”

Anna firmly places her hands on your cheeks, and grips you with enough force to have you stare straight into her determined eyes. “Forget him. He’s just some guy you’re fucking occasionally, and you know what that means?” You blink in response, causing her lips to curl into a grin. “It means you are single and free to fuck anyone you want. We’re here to have fun, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”

She’s right. 

Of course she’s right.

Her words bring a genuine smile to your lips and you nod in agreement, determined to not let something so silly ruin the rest of your night.

Anna wastes no time she excuses herself, returning back to you quickly with fresh drinks and tapping her cup against yours with a mischievous grin. You both take a few hearty gulps, allowing the alcohol to course through your veins and lighten your mood, head buzzing as she slips her fingers through yours to tug you away from your current position.

You mingle with a few of her other friends you’re familiar with, diving deep in conversations, laughing at jokes shared among the group, throwing flirtatious comments here and there when someone shows clear interest in you.

But you weren’t interested in them.

Not at all.

Not when you can still see Matt in your line of vision, who remains in his position on the couch, engrossed in his own conversation with his brothers, friends, and the girl who has yet to leave his side, seemingly unwilling to leave.

Your jaw locks tight when Matt occasionally meets your gaze, rubbing his palms on his jean-cladded thighs and shifting in his seat, manspreading as he relaxes back against the cushions. Your eyes narrow, fighting the urge to roll them when the girl beside him snuggles in closer, offering a smile that could make anyone swoon, but he’s not even looking at her now.

He’s fully looking at you.

Matt’s head tilts to the side slightly, the corner of his lips curling into a subtle smirk, leaving you with a mix of conflicting emotions that makes your head spin. On one hand, there’s a part of you that wants to wipe that look off of his face, fueled by your annoyance and frustration. But on the other hand, there’s a part of you that can’t help but be drawn to that smirk, wanting to bask in the attention and keep his gaze fixed permanently on you and only you.

A bitter taste lingers on the tip of your tongue as Matt’s attention is taken away from you, watching as he leans his head down to listen to the girl who whispers in his ear, her fingertips resting on his jawline to keep him close. A forced laugh escapes your lips, the sound tinged with bitterness and your tongue prods at the insane of your cheek. 

You rip your gaze away from the pair, redirecting your focus on Anna who looks at you with a confused expression, clearly bewildered by your sudden laughter and you try to shake off that ugly feeling that has settled within you, offering her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and Anna spots that immediately.

She calls out your name, wanting to question your odd behaviour but her words come to a half when the guy beside you grabs the attention of the group. Was it Jason? Jaiden? You can’t quite remember, and frankly you don’t really care enough to remember. But you remain silent as he speaks, asking if anyone knows where he can buy weed at the party, if there is anyone who knows who sells as he assures that he has the cash.

Matt. The name flickers in your mind almost instantly, and you meet Anna’s gaze as she subtly shakes her head at you, knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“I know someone,” You announce, and Anna sighs deeply in defeat. You ignore her reaction as you extend your hand towards the guy. “Give me the money. I’ll go get it.”

“Are you sure?” He asks in surprise, hesitating for a moment despite already having the dollar bills ready in the palm of his hand. “I don’t mind getting it—”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off abruptly, curling your fingers around the bills to take into your own hands. You turn on your heels, making a beeline directly towards Matt as you slip through the crowd, pushing through the bodies with determination and fire coursing through your veins, fingers grasping the money tighter as you get closer, eyes locked in on Matt as he watches you near.

As you stand in front of him, your gaze shifts to the girl by his side, tongue clicking against your teeth with bitterness tinging your thoughts as you observe her shuffling closer. Her hand now rests on Matt’s bicep, fingers sinking into the fabric of his hoodie.

The sight alone stirs a mixture of annoyance, frustration, and jealousy in the pit of your stomach and in the moment, you find yourself in an internal struggle to either make some snarky or bitchy comment in hopes to get Matt to understand how pissed off you truly are, or to continue with what you were originally here for. 

“Pre-rolls.” Is what you say with a monotone and direct voice, deciding to get straight to the point, and you extend your hand as you show Matt the money, making your intention clear.

Matt’s eyes briefly lower to the money before returning to meet yours, “For you or someone else?”

“Does it matter?” You reply sharply. “Pre-rolled joints, please.”

“For someone else then,” You hear Matt mutter under his breath as he digs inside the pocket of his jeans to pull out exactly what you need, but he’s quick to pull it out of reach as you go to snatch it from his grasp. Your frustration grows within you as you glare at him, but he takes no notice of your expression as he asks, “Are you smoking too?”

You huff, “Obviously.”

You watch as Matt reaches back into his pocket and your demeanour shifts slightly as he pulls out another batch of pre-rolls, ones you’re all too familiar with as you see the pink-coloured skins. He knows you prefer spliffs over joints. You want to continue being annoyed and angry with how he knows you all too well but yet, deep down, you feel touched as your heart thumps wildly in your chest and a flutter of warmth swirls in the pit of your stomach at the seemingly thoughtful gesture.

You bite down on your tongue, not wanting to let him know how much that simple action affected you so much, “I don’t have enough money for two.”

“You don’t pay for yours anyways.” Matt states matter-of-factly as he takes the money for the one pre-roll but hands you the two. It’s true, you think, curling your fingers around the two pre-rolls he's given you. You’ve never paid him when asking for a smoke… he doesn’t let you pay him.

“You giving out freebies?” The girl beside him speaks up for the first time, her tone playful as she decides to jump in on the conversation. She nudges Matt’s shoulder as she teases, “Pink skins too? How come I don’t get that treatment?”

“Because I’m his favourite,” You find yourself replying before your brain can register it, sending her a forced tight-lipped smile as she looks up at you in surprise, not expecting you to be the one to respond. But you couldn’t care less. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“I was talking more about the pink skins,” She snips back at you, and your tongue prods at your cheek once again, fighting off the urge to laugh as she turns to look at Matt as she smiles. “I like pink.”

“They’re for her.” Matt says as he gestures towards you with a nod of his head. The girl’s face drops, her smile completely fading and a sense of satisfaction washes over you. You offer her a sweet sickly smile in return before leaving, heading straight back to your group who are patiently waiting for you to come back.

Anna comes to stand beside you as you and the joint over to Jason (you managed to overhear his name as you were nearing closer to the group) and he grins in victory, thank you with a wet, dramatic smooch to your cheek before lighting it up, taking a hit and passing it around the group.

Anna leans her head down, disappointment clear in her tone as she speaks to you in hushed whispers, ridiculing you for suggesting Matt in the first place, but her tone soon shifts to curiosity and wonder, wanting to know what happened between you and Matt, and what you both had spoken about.

You’re partially honest with your answer, replying that the only topic of conversation was about the deal and that you were able to get exactly what you wanted and more as you showed her your own little gift. She grins, bumping her shoulder to yours proudly before jumping into a conversation with the others, taking the joint out of a friend's hand while you tuck yours away in your purse, saving it for later.

You had enough.

The irritation you feel becomes unbearable, unable to be masked by the alcohol coursing through your veins.

The sight of Matt and the girl still in the same position on the couch sitting close, sharing whispers and smiles. It gnaws at you despite your failed attempts to bury them with distractions by dancing with others and kissing others with lingering touches.

You’ve reached your breaking point.

You wish you were drunk enough to ignore everything and continue with the night, but unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case.

You want to leave.

Most importantly, you want to leave with Matt.

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. It would be so easy for you to leave without him, or even find someone else to go home with—that being Anna or some random stranger. But honestly, you couldn’t care less about the easy options. You never cared.

Abandoning your half-empty cup without a second thought, you leave Anna behind, not even bothering to fill her in on what you’re about to do. The sound of her questioning fades into the background as you make your way towards the living-room area with a determined stride.

As you approach closer, a sense of tunnel vision takes over; everything else seems to fade into the background too, sounds becoming distant whispers or muted, completely overshadowed by your thoughts and emotions.

You begin to second guess how this upcoming conversation would go. If Matt would actually leave with you this time if you asked. After all, he did say no to coming here with you… so why would he leave with you?

You internally scowl at yourself for even thinking about something so negative.

He’s wrapped around your finger just as much as you’re wrapped around his.

“I’m leaving,” You announce as soon as you stand in front of Matt, not even giving him enough time to react to your sudden appearance. He remains unbothered though, his gaze casually meeting yours as he lifts a soda can to his lips. His eyebrow raises in response, and without missing a beat, you continue, “Come home with me.”

The girl sitting beside Matt reacts with utter disbelief, her mouth dropping open as she scoffs at your audacity, her eyebrows knitting together at your words but you’re unfazed by her reaction. It doesn’t make you feel bad at all, not as your focus remains on Matt, waiting for his response.

And in that moment, you feel a sense of victory and satisfaction swell in your chest when Matt gives a simple nod of his head and rises from the couch, reaching for his car keys that are clipped to the belt loop of his jeans as he bids his brothers and friends goodbye.

“Wait!” The girl exclaims as she interrupts, tone filled with desperation as her hand shoots out, gripping Matt’s arm tightly, halting his movements. Her eyes shift towards you at first, giving you a harsh look before turning her attention back to Matt. “Are you serious right now? You were my ride here. How am I supposed to get home?”

You hold yourself back, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from responding, though your annoyance is clearly visible on your face. You keep silent, watching as Matt’s face remains impassive.

“That’s not my problem,” He states bluntly, removing her grip from his arm without hesitation, words devoid of any sympathy. “You’ll figure it out.”

The girl’s jaw drops even further, shocked at Matt’s sudden change in attitude and tone. A smug grin finds its way onto your lips, unable to contain that satisfaction bubbling within you, and you wave your fingers in her direction as Matt’s arm finds its way around your waist, resting his hand on your hip as he leads you out of the area.

As you’re leaving the building, Anna’s disappointed gaze lingers on you, but she still mouths for you to be careful and gestures for you to call her when you get home. You nod your head in promise, blowing her a kiss before turning away and leaving her behind.

The cold air brushes against your burning skin, but your mind is too preoccupied with a whirlwind of angry thoughts and unanswered questions, and the scowl on your face is clear. Matt continues to lead the way, guiding you toward his parked car in silence.

It’s deafening, and you hate it, intensifying the frustrations that build within you. 

You’re getting angrier.

You’re the first to climb into the vehicle, slamming the door of the passenger side with enough force it rattles the car. Matt, who seems completely oblivious to your anger (or just doesn’t take any notice), takes his place in the driver's seat, and his ongoing silence fuels your irritation even more. 

Without sparing you a glance, Matt inserts the key into the ignition and twists, setting the car’s engine rumbling to life. His attention is glued to the dashboard as he presses a few buttons to turn on the radio, playing a song you’re all too familiar with but not in the mood to vibe along with like you usually would.

Your frustration grows further when Matt casually drapes one arm around the back of your seat, focussing behind as he reverses then pulls out of the parking space, the car gradually gaining momentum as it merges onto the road. 

Settling back into your seat with your arms crossed tight over your chest, your gaze alternates between the side of Matt’s face and the road ahead. You’re aware that it would be best to stay quiet and allow yourself to calm down before questioning him, yet the curiosity mixed with annoyance within you refuses to be silenced.

You bite down on your tongue hard—you can do this.

… You can’t. 

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” You finally speak, unable to hold back your words. The bitterness seeps into your tone as you continue. “I thought you weren’t interested in ‘some lame house party’... what happened to that?”

Matt’s response comes with a nonchalant tone that irks you, “I’m not interested,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I had things planned, but plans changed.”

“Right,” You hum. “So you decided to come to a party, which I invited you to, with a girl?” You struggle to hide the tinge of jealousy in your voice.

Matt glances at you briefly, and a smirk slides onto his lips. His audacity strikes a nerve and you release a dry laugh, your tongue prodding at your cheek in disbelief.

“Jess was one of the people I was selling weed to tonight,” Matt explains casually. “Chris texted me while I was at her house that he was at this party, and he wanted to buy weed. I told him I’d drop by and give him some.”

Jess. Her name makes your face scrunch up in displeasure. “Okay. Then you somehow ended up coming to the party with Jess and stayed for the majority of the night.”

Matt grins, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. “She was actually planning to go to the party after she saw me. But once she found out that I was heading there, she asked if she could ride with me. I drove her, and when I realised Chris wasn’t outside, I was going to leave. Then Jess said she’d help me find him inside, so I went in.”

You mutter under your breath, the words escaping in a frustrated whisper, “Still doesn’t explain why you stayed.”

“I got caught up with my brothers and friends,” Matt responds simply, and his hand reaches over the centre console to rest on top of your thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath his fingers. His touch attempts to soothe you, his voice softening. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” You lie through gritted teeth. “Just wish you would’ve at least told me you were coming, or came up and said hello when you arrived.”

“I’m sorry,” His apology is minimal, but his tone sounds sincere as his thumb draws circles on your skin. “Like I said, I wasn’t planning on staying,” Matt takes a quick glance over at you, that smirk returning. “Besides, you’re wearing that dress I like, sweetheart… walking up and saying hello wouldn’t be the first thing I’d do.”

You hum at that, twisting in your seat to face him, “And what exactly would you do?”

Matt answers without missing a beat, “The same thing I did last time I saw you at a party.”

The low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine and your thighs squeeze together to relieve that sudden ache in your cunt, vividly remember that night qt a house party where he dragged you upstairs and fucked you silly in someone else’s bathroom, not caring that the mirror rattled against the wall and belongings off all sorts had fallen off the sink, creating a mess on the floor that neither of you bothered to clean up when leaving. 

“I don’t remember,” You lie, giving him a glossy smile. “I think you have to remind me.”

Matt looks out into the open road, “Do you see a bathroom anywhere?”

“Funny,” You roll your eyes, but you lean over to brush your fingers over his crotch. “You can just remind me here—”

“We’re not fucking in my car,” His words make your eyebrows raise in shock, and your mouth drops open with a scoff as you rip your hand away. Matt smiles, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Last time we were in here, you ruined my seats. That shit costs too much to clean, sweetheart.”

You’re bitter as you reply, “You didn’t seem to complain when you were desperate to make me cum over and over again.”

Matt’s laughter fills the car, his tongue clicking against his teeth as he shakes his head at your bitter attitude. The sound gets on your nerves immediately. You scoff once more, crossing your arms back over your chest and directing your gaze out the window, intentionally ignoring him for the rest of the journey. 

As the car turns onto your street and your home comes into view, you reach for your seatbelt. Once Matt parks the car outside your house, you swiftly unbuckle and slide out of the car, slamming the passenger door shut so hard that it rattles it again. The sound of Matt’s laughter only further irritates you.

With your house key in hand, you unlock the front door and step inside, feeling Matt’s presence behind you. His warmth brushes against your back, but you refuse to acknowledge it, striding towards your room.

Standing by your vanity table, you remove your sparkly earrings, your focus solely on the task at hand as you bite the skin of your cheek with a scowl.

“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me,” Matt drawls, his voice reaching your eyes. You raise your head to meet his gaze in the mirror’s reflection. He’s leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his lips despite the feigned upset tone in his voice. He continues, “You told me to come home with you, and now you’re giving me this treatment? All because I wouldn’t fuck you in my car? That’s cold, sweetheart.”

You huff quietly, even though you know deep down that Matt’s words hold some truth. You continue to stay quiet, unclasping the necklace from around your neck and placing it back in its designated spot.

Matt’s tongue pokes at his cheek as he continues, “I could’ve just stayed with Jess—”

You immediately bristle, and you whirl around to face him. “You’re not funny.”

Matt’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling. “Got you to finally talk to me, though.”

You let out a forced laugh, and you plant your hands firmly on your hips as you glare at Matt. “You know what? You can go—I don’t care. Go. Go back to the party and spend the rest of your night with Jess.”

“Hey,” Matt’s response is immediate as he moves toward you, standing right in front of you. His fingers reach up to grasp your jaw, the cool sensations of his rings stinging your warm skin. He playfully shakes your head, and a part of you wants to shove him away, but you remain still. “Enough, kid. You know I’d rather be here with you anyways.”

And you do. Deep down, you know that. 

But you love pushing his buttons, especially with the thrill it gives you.

Pressing further, you challenge him, “Do I actually?”

Matt’s voice hums with confidence. “Of course you do. You know you’re my favourite.”

You blink at him, unimpressed. “There are others?”

Matt sucks in a deep breath, his grip on your jaw tightening as a playful warning. You can’t help but grin now, pleased in your ability to get under his skin so easily. “You’re a pain in my ass, I swear.”

A giggle escapes your lips as you slide your arms around his shoulders, and his hand releases your jaw to rest at the base of your spine. His fingers put gentle pressure, urging you closer, and you willingly comply as you allow your chest to press against his.

Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of Matt’s neck, the grin on your lips unfaltering as you continue to taunt him. “Pain in your ass, yet you still can’t get enough of me,” You then mockingly gasp, “Don’t tell me you like me, Matt?”

“Yeah, yeah, you wish,” Matt mutters dismissively, his head dipping low to press his lips to yours in a heated kiss, sending a surge of electricity through your veins. You respond eagerly without a moment of hesitation, matching his fervour, your lips moving in perfect sync.

Matt’s hand glides up from your lower spine to firmly grip the back of your neck, keeping you pressed against him. The sensation of his touch sends shivers down your spine, and you fist the material of his hoodie in your grasp, ensuring that he stays close to you. 

As the kiss deepens, you feel a gentle nip of his teeth on your bottom lip, causing you to gasp at the pinch. Your lips part, giving him an invitation for his tongue to slip inside your mouth. The taste of him, the mingling of your breath, it’s intoxicating to you, and you want more.

The force of his kisses push you back against your vanity table, the impact causing a few of your belongings clattering to the ground. But you pay no mind, your focus is solely on Matt who stands between your parted thighs, his hands sliding beneath the bottom of your dress. 

“Lift your hips a lil f’me.” Matt orders you, and you listen. With his fingers that hook under the band of your panties, he pulls them down in one swift movement, discarding the lacy material carelessly to the side before his arm hooks around your back.

You yelp in surprise as he effortlessly lifts you up from the vanity table, and your legs instinctively lock around his hips to make sure you don’t fall, but it doesn’t matter when Matt drops you down on the bed with a bounce. 

Before you can fully register what happened, Matt’s hand curls around your ankle and he tugs you to the edge of the bed, and you watch with parted lips as his hand moves between your thighs to drag his middle finger through your slit. 

“You’re fucked soaked…” Matt hims as he lowers himself down, gazing up at you from your parted thighs. A silent gasp leaves your lips as his two fingers sink into your tight, wet heat. “You had so much to say earlier, and now you’re quiet. Does it feel too good?”

“Just shut up.” You bite back, and a smile breaks out onto Matt’s face, sending you a wink before he leans down. His tongue swirls against your sensitive clit, plunging his fingers into your cunt at a steady rhythm.

Breathy moans leave you as you try to watch Matt, but his free hand slowly creeps up your body and pushes down at your chest, making you fall back against the mattress with a huff. You’re reminded of the dress that’s still clinging to your body, making you regret not taking it off sooner, but all your worries and problems are pushed to the side when you feel Matt drapes your legs over his shoulders, closing him in.

“Fu—ah!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your back arches off the bed. You’re unable to use your words, lost in the feeling of Matt sucking at your clit and the curl of his fingers against your spongy walls, brushing over that spot that has your thighs tightening around his hand.

One of your hands grip the bed sheet, and your other lands on top of his head, threading your fingers through the overgrown strands as you tug, eliciting a groan from his chest. You’re grinding your pussy against his face, desperate for more, and he doesn’t seem to mind, allowing you to use him as you please.

That’s until your legs soon fall from his shoulders when Matt forces them apart, spreading you out in front of him when he feels your climax approaching, and he leans back as he watches his fingers pump into you. The speed in which his fingers move has your legs closing around his hand, and his tongue clicks against his teeth in a sound of disapproval.

“Keep ‘em open,” Matt warns you, and when you fail to listen, his fingers slow down, causing you to glare at him. “Don’t look at me like that. What did I just say?” Your legs slowly part, and Matt nods his head. “That’s right…”

He picks up the speed once more, and he drives his fingers inside your cunt, a grin playing on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on yours, staring down at your face as he leans over you. You gasp loudly when his thumb rubs your clit for stimulation, and you immediately cum.

The squelching sound of your wetness is hard throughout the room along with your wailing, and your body shakes and your pussy contracts around his fingers. He’s laughing as he fingers you through your orgasm, watching as your body trembles and your hips rut against his hand.

You cry out in pleasure, your body shaking and your brain fuzzy as you slump back against the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Matt removes his fingers from your sensitive cunt, and you watch through hazed vision as he sucks them clean. The sight alone is enough to have a surge of energy rush through your veins, and you sit up to pull him into a kiss. Matt groans when your tongue slides into his mouth, and when he kneels in between your thighs, he takes hold of your wrists and guides your hands towards his belt. 

You immediately know what he wants you to do, and you comply. You unbuckle his belt hastily through hungry kisses, making quick work of the button and zipper, tugging the material down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxers.

Usually, you would’ve completely rid him of his clothes and yourself. But on this specific night, you were too desperate to have him to go through with the task, and Matt seems to be feeling the same when he suddenly throws you around.

You huff as the air is knocked out of your lungs when you’re flipped onto your tummy, and you turn your head to the side, cheek mushed against your pillow as you watch Matt through your lashes. He’s fisting his cock, tip leaky and red, spreading his precum around the base. 

He tapes his cock on your puffy folds and you squirm, an irritated whine leaving your lips to which Matt smirks at.

You grit through your teeth, “Hurry up.”

“Just admiring the view,” Matt cheekily replies, giving you a wink as he taps your ass before his cock nudges between your folds. “Breathe.” He instructs you.

You bite back the remark that’s resting on the tip of your tongue, and you inhale deeply, only to let out a drawn out moan when Matt pushes himself inside, the familiarity of him stretching out your pussy makes your toes curl and fingers grip the bed sheets.

Once he’s fully seated inside your warmth, buried in you to the hilt, you feel his ringed hands slide up your spine beneath your dress, his blunt fingernails pressing into your skin as he drags his hand back down before gripping your hips, keeping you still as he begins to thrust.

“So wet ‘n tight for me, sweetheart…” Matt grunts, pinching your hips. He lays a firm slap on your ass. “So good f’me. Always so good.”

He repeatedly pumps in and out of you, gradually picking up his speed, and you find yourself moaning with each deep thrust of his hips. You fuck yourself back onto his cock when you feel his grip loosen on you, and your volume increases, mewling at the feeling of Matt’s cock fucking you so deep that it makes your head fuzzy.

You pant, almost drooling, “I wan’ more.”

“More?” Matt repeats with a chuckle, and his lips curl into a grin as he watches your ass bounce back on his cock. “I’m already deep inside your guts. What more could you possibly want?”

You give him a dark glare in warning, “Matt—”

“You already cum once too,” Matt tsks, and you feel his hand slip around your waist to slot between your thighs. You shiver when you feel the pads of his ringed fingers brush over your clit. “Fucking greedy, kid. You take, take, take…”

You gasp as his fingers start rubbing slow circles, and your pussy clamps around his cock. “Ah!”

“Good thing I’ll always give you what you want, right?”

Your mouth drops open, and your eyebrows knit together from the stimulation of Matt’s cock fucking into you and his fingers rubbing at your clit, the pleasure building. He’s grunting loudly behind you, his free hand giving harsh slaps to your ass and soothing over the sore area.

It surprises you when Matt’s hips start to slow down for a moment, and he bends over you to press a wet smooch to your cheek. You crane your neck awkwardly to capture his lips in a kiss, only lasting a few seconds before he straightens back up and resumes his pace.

“Good cum for me, sweetheart?” Matt asks when he feels the walls of your cunt flutter around him, knowing all too well. You nod your head quickly, and Matt smiles as he pinches your clit, eliciting a squeal from you. “Hold it.”

You gape at him, “Ho—you’re joking?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“I can’t wait!!” You hiss, shaking your head quickly, already feeling the pleasure build up in your tummy.

All Matt does is laugh at you, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he mutters about you always getting what you want, and you go to snap back to defend yourself, but the words fail to come out of your mouth when you feel his cock swell inside of your cunt, and with one harsh thrust of his hips, you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name.

He curses under his breath, trying his best to keep the momentum as he pushes further into your tightening walls, only for his orgasm to hit harshly. He’s hips jerk, his cock pumping you full of cum, and he’s breathing heavily as his hands rub your sides.

You’re sweaty and sticky, immediately regretting not taking off your dress the second he had you against the vanity table earlier. You grunt at the ache in your hips and lower back as Matt pulls his cock out of you, and you slump to the bed with a huff, allowing your body to relax while muttering quiet complaints.

Matt chuckles at your antics, and he reaches out, pressing his fingers into your lower back to massage you and you grin happily, melting at his touch. 

“Spoilt,” Matt states, and you lift your hand to give him the middle finger in retaliation. Matt grins and continues his ministrations for a few more minutes before he lets you go, causing you to jut your bottom lip out into a pout as you turn to look at him. “Easy, kid. You need to go pee, and then we’re gonna go shower. Get you cleaned up.”

A smirk makes its way onto your face as you tease, “How chivalrous.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He waves dismissively at you, and he stands up from your bed. He offers a hand out to you and you take it, feeling his fingers clasp around yours as he pulls you up, and he wraps a steady arm around your waist as your feet touch the ground. “I still got some weed leftover from the party, I’ll roll when we’re done. Pink skins for the princess, right?”

Feeling smug and confident, you raise your head high. “Right.”

© sturnioz

[glossysoap]

just wanna be yours ; ghost

tags/featuring: fem reader, misogyny, unwanted advances, reader experiencing what literally every fem presenting person experiences on a daily basis, ghost protecting reader, ghost drinks respect women juice, simp ghost, smut, multiple orgasms. very first cod piece so excuse any mischaracterization 👍

notes: italics are flashbacks.

playlist: i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys, will be linked as well

word count: 3,257

Your senses are overwhelmed by Simon and Simon only.

Tears pricked at your eyes and you panted with every thrust of his hips. It took every ounce of your willpower not to let out obscene moans when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“No, no, no. none of that. You’re gonna let out every single moan and fucking whimper,” Simon growled, biting against your shoulder.

It all started when Graves directed his attention towards you.

Now, Simon couldn’t blame him because he didn’t want to become official with your relationship yet. He insisted that it was because he didn’t want you to get hurt, but since you work on the same team, you’re going to get hurt regardless.

So, to the rest of the team, you were completely available. Soap would throw in some harmless flirting from time to time but that was nothing compared to Phillip Graves, who would constantly ask you out on dates or comment about your love life.

Soap’s harmless flirting also never made you uncomfortable or scared, unlike Graves’ whorish attempts that always put a pit in your stomach. Thankfully though, Graves’ attempts at pursuing you were always slyly shot down or interrupted by Ghost.

Whenever you asked him why he would interfere constantly, he would stick with the same bullshit answer, “I can’t have him distracting you on the job.” You would scoff and roll your eyes, and he would let you because it was easier than telling you the truth. That he blocked any of Graves’ advances towards you because he’s in love with you. That he needs you in his life more than he needs the very air in his lungs. That he can’t breathe at the thought of you getting hurt.

He convinces himself that you’re safer if you’re not in a relationship with him. He convinces himself that if he lets you into his heart, a target will be painted on your back.

So he resigned himself to loving you from afar. That was good enough for him. As long as he could protect you and your friendship, he would be alright with not loving you openly.

Protecting you meant that every single time Graves approached you with that slimy grin, Ghost wasn’t far behind - ready to cut Graves off and shield you from his unwanted attention. He is hot on Graves’ heels the second he sees your eyes widen a fraction or your breath quicken. Ghost’s hackles rose the most when he sees the tale tell sign of an oncoming panic attack; you picking at the skin around your nails, leaving them raw and bloody.

Wherever Graves struck up a conversation with you and Ghost was in your vicinity, the Lieutenant would bark a command to some poor recruit. His loud, booming voice would simultaneously distract Graves and pull your attention back to your Lieutenant. Just the way Ghost liked it.

Other times, he would make up tasks for you that involve following him to his office or to the gym. Or following him to literally anywhere that Graves wasn’t. He might tell you that he’s having trouble with documents so he needs you to follow him to his office. He might say that Price called a meeting, when in fact, he never called one at all.

This was one of those times. Ghost was in the gym doing deadlifts when he heard Graves’s grating voice peeking out from his headphones. He tried to ignore it as he kept pumping the weights and pushing his limit, but to no avail.

“I mean, I see you around here all alone, and I just think it’s such a waste.” Ghost hears as he turns his headphones off. He waited a moment to hear whoever Graves was flirting with, if you could even call it that.

Ghost continued lifting the weight, jaw ticking when he heard your timid and shaky voice respond, “That’s nice of you to say, but—,” before Graves rudely cut you off.

“I could treat you—,” Graves was interrupted by Ghost dropping his iron weight on the padded floor, letting it bounce loudly. Graves was jolted from the conversation immediately and his eyes flashed to Ghost, who was now striding over to the two of you.

Your anxious demeanor calmed immediately once Ghost approached Graves, now replaced with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You knew Ghost had a possessive nature about him but no matter what, he would always put your safety first. And the second he noticed that anxious look on your face, or the way your eyes glanced toward the exit door as if planning an escape? His instincts went into overdrive, to not only claim what was his, but to protect what was his.

“Can I help you with something, Lieutenant?” Graves asked, annoyed that he was interrupted. He crossed his arms as he stared back at Ghost, who was now only standing a few feet from the two of you.

“You can, as a matter of fact.” Ghost replied cooly, without missing a beat. He spared a single glance at your nervous figure and without any hesitation, waved you over to stand next to him. You obeyed immediately, moving to stand behind the brooding soldier as he held his arm out to protect you.

As you eagerly took your spot behind him, your eyes grazed over him. You gulped, watching as his arms flexed and his veins bulged as his hands balled into fists.

You could tell he was getting agitated.

“What you can do is take a fuckin’ hint and leave her alone.” Ghost shot back.

Graves scoffs.

“And how exactly does this concern you, Riley?” The American shot back with a roll of his eyes, which Ghost didn’t take too kindly to.

“It concerns me because you can’t take no for a fucking answer, you piece of-” Ghost spat, taking a step further until he was in Graves’ face.

You reached for Ghost’s shoulder and tried to pull him away. You would love nothing more than for him to put Graves in his place, but you knew Ghost would get punished as well for getting into an altercation.

“Okay, LT. I think he gets the point. You get the point, don’t you, Graves?” You narrowed your eyes at the American, daring him to go any further.

“Sure do. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again! I assure you.” He scrambled, his southern drawl breaking as he apologized. He looked back and forth between you and Ghost, gauging his reaction.

“Okay, great! Then why don’t we get out of here?” Without waiting for Ghost’s response, you dragged him out of the gym and away from Graves.

You kept dragging him by his wrist all the way to the showers, his boots hitting the pavement behind you.

“You know I appreciate it when you do that but you’re just gonna get yourself in trouble one of these days.” You muttered as you put your locker combination in for a change of clothes. He waited patiently next to you, studying your face while you opened your locker. You could feel his gaze burning into you.

“I’ll deal with that if it comes to it.” He waved your concerns off. You sigh at his nonchalant attitude, grabbing your towel and change of clothes.

“Not if, when, Ghost. You keep putting yourself in positions like that and Shepherd will have you on probation. Especially for something stupid like that..” You mumbled the last sentence under your breath as you slammed your locker. You turned to walk away from him only to have him grab your wrist and pull you close to him.

Impossibly close.

“Defending you from that pervert is anything but fucking stupid. I can’t stand how he makes you feel. How you tuck tail and freeze whenever he talks to you. I see that.” He grounds out. His hand moves from your wrist to hold the small of your back, bringing you flush against his chest. His dark eyes bored into yours, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

“I see how scared you are, even if you don’t want to admit it. Even if you don’t wanna accept my help. I’m always going to be there.” He almost growls, his other hand moving to cup your cheek. His thumb traced small circles on your skin.

“I will always protect you.”

“Why?” You shot back, fire burning in your eyes. He visibly recoiled at the rare sight of your glossy eyes glaring daggers at him. He was so accustomed to two expressions from you: The first being your bright eyes, crinkling at the edges from laughing so hard at some dumb joke of his. The second being your face contorted in pleasure, throwing your head back as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you.

“Why do you care so much? You’ve made it clear that you only want something physical and I’m trying to respect that, I really am.” You blink at the rapidly building tears in your eyes, forcing your emotions down. You refused to break down in front of him, not when you knew how this would end.

You knew that he would brush off your feelings as just a lust fueled crush that would pass any day now.

“But you make it so fucking hard.” Every word that comes out of your mouth is like a punch to the gut for Ghost. He can hear the pain in your voice and he hates that he’s the cause of it.

“One day, you tell me that we can’t keep doing this because it’s a distraction for you. The next day, you’re showing up on your white horse to ‘defend my honor’.” You use your index fingers to make quotations in the air while you spoke the last three words. You’re animated as you rant, waving your hands and raising your eyebrows. It was clear as day that you’d been holding this feeling in for a long time.

“So which one is it? Do you want me or not?” Ghost felt his heart sink when your voice broke. You were at your breaking point, he knew that. You were done playing games. He knew that if he wasn’t honest right here and now, you would end this arrangement for good. He would never get to feel your soft skin under his callused fingertips or have your soft moans hit his ears.

So being honest is exactly what he would do.

“What kind of question is that? Do I want you? You.. you consume every thought in my head. Every room I walk into, you are the first person I look for.” He speaks every word so slow and languidly, leaning down closer to you. He moves the hand that was on your face down to your back so that both of his large hands were splayed across your back.

“You occupy every fucking inch of space in my soul. I cannot breathe when you’re not near me. Of course I fucking want you.” He shouts, his voice echoing off of the lockers.

You jolt a bit in surprise and your eyes widen in shock and disbelief. You bite your lip to keep it from trembling as your mind races.

“That’s a sick fucking joke, Ghost.” You almost whisper, stomach feeling like lead as you avoid his gaze. There’s no way. There’s just no fucking way he would ever feel the same way about you, not after he adamantly denied it time after time. Not after he made the two of you promise that your arrangement would always be no-strings-attached.

“You don’t believe me?” He scoffs in your ear, his hands still sending tingles down your spine. He didn’t wait for your response before moving closer, so close that you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

“That’s fine. I’ll make you believe me.”

That’s how you ended up here.

In your quarters, naked, moaning and trembling under Simon as he thrusted into you. His big, rough hands were holding your thighs so your legs were pushed against your chest, putting you in a mating press position.

Skin slapping against skin, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. Your face was contorted in pleasure, brows furrowed and mouth hung open. Simon’s face was buried in your neck, grunting as his cock was squeezed by your tight cunt. Your cunt was sopping wet, your juices soaking his cock and mixing with his seed.

His mouth went to work on claiming you as his, for everyone to see. Licking, sucking and biting on the span of your neck, painting it with teeth indentations like a necklace.

When he got to your jugular, he bit hard. You let out a particularly loud moan at the mix of pain and ecstasy. You could feel him smirk against your neck.

“Atta’ girl.” He praised, angling his hips to thrust even deeper.

“Oh God!” Your eyes rolled back as he hit the spongey spot over and over, the knot in your stomach unraveling as you came on his cock. That would make your first of many orgasms of the night.

“Just me, love.” He muttered, pressing a wet kiss against the skin of your collarbone. The pet name fell from his lips so effortlessly, so naturally. You were too deep in your fucked-out state to even notice him use that name for you.

“I’m gonna ask you again. Do you believe me?” He asks, reaching two fingers down to toy at your swollen clit. Your juices mixed with his cum made obscene wet sounds as he rubbed the bundle of nerves. You cried out, still so sensitive as he rubbed mercilessly, not giving you even a moment of reprieve. His hips continued thrusting against your sweet spot. You could already feel the warmth in your stomach build again.

“I asked you a question. Do you believe me?” He demanded, slowing his thrusts so you would be able to respond.

You shook your head. It was small, but he noticed it all the same.

He clenched his jaw, and decided on a change of plans. He would fuck you until you believed him. He would pull every orgasm from you until you believed that he loved you. Every last drop.

So he hiked your legs up even further, ankles by his ears, and began pistoning into your swollen entrance. Your breath got knocked out of your chest from him hitting your cervix, only to turn into a wail as he slapped your abused clit, over and over.

Your second orgasm washed over you in waves, cunt squeezing around him and making him groan in pleasure. He fucked you through your high, rubbing your clit until your orgasm died down. By now, his happy trail was painted with your cum.

He never pulled out though. Instead, he stayed sheathed inside your warm pussy and pressed kisses to your ankle that was still hiked up on his shoulder. He watched your blissed out face as you came down from your high, admiring your parted lips and furrowed brows. Your chest heaved as you panted, reminiscent of how your breasts bounced just moments before.

“How ‘bout now, huh?” He murmured against your ankle, dark eyes trained on your face. Your eyes opened after a moment, still a bit unfocused from two consecutive orgasms. You still looked up at him through your lashes, eyes all glossy and pupils blown from lust.

His eyes peered into yours, almost daring you to shake your head again. He almost wanted you to, truth be told. That would mean he would get to coax more toe curling orgasms from his girl.

You rolled your eyes just a fraction and let out a scoff. To others it might’ve sounded like a pant or just an exhale, but he was perfectly attuned to every noise and expression you ever make. He knew it was a scoff of denial and doubt.

“So fucking stubborn.” He growls deep in his chest, wrapping his arms around you to manhandle you as he wished. You let out a yelp as he completely changed positions.

With your cunt still squeezed around his cock, he sat back and pulled you into his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist. Your cunt was now damn near impaled on his cock, feeling impossibly full of his cum. He didn’t let you set the pace though, no. He was in control and you knew it, if the pathetic whimpers falling out of your mouth were anything to go by.

He palmed at your ass with his large hands, feeling your hips instinctively grind down as you immediately moaned against his shoulder. Hands grasping and clawing at his back, desperate to find purchase as you bounced on his cock. With every bounce, he met it with an equally strong thrust into your cunt. Every thrust hit your g-spot just right, making the knot in your stomach tighten for a third time.

Your hips instinctively bucked towards the source of the mind numbing pleasure, grinding yourself on his cock. You let out needy whines with every sway of your hips. Every sound that fell from your lips was like music to his fucking ears.

Once you started building your own rhythm, he took his opportunity to remove one hand from your ass and use it to reach down past your stomach, and torture that swollen bundle of nerves once more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—,” You babbled, slumped against his chest. Your throat was raw with how much you’ve been moaning, whining, screaming in ecstasy. Your nails were leaving red scratch marks across his back and he would wear them with pride.

You squeezed painfully tight around his cock and he knew you were so close, teetering on the edge, and you just needed some encouragement.

“Come on, give it to me. I know you can do it, love.” He murmured right by your ear, his husky accented voice sending shivers down your spine.

He rubbed your clit a few more times as he leaned down a bit to bite your neck, growling into the skin.

The knot in your stomach broke and your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your third orgasm cascaded over you. You squirted onto him and milked his cock for every bit of cum it was worth, making him moan into your neck.

He felt warm puffs of air hit his shoulder as you panted in exhaustion. He reached up to cradle your head and stroke your hair.

“You believe me now? You believe that I love you with every fiber of my being? Because I do. And if you want me to, I’ll spend every waking moment proving it to you. No matter what. Whether that means protecting you and making sure you feel safe, or worshipping you like the goddess you are, I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“That sounds good.” He heard you mumble sleepily against his chest. He chuckled, relief flooding his chest because you were giving him a chance.

bonus:

“…You know I believed you the first time right? Just wanted to see how many times you could go.” You mumbled as you laid against his chest.

You felt his chest rumble with laughter at your admission.

“You little fucking minx.”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission. you can use this work as a scriptfill for gonewildaudios as long as you credit me and link me.

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[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter one | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus is his own warning, elitism

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus finds out the plint prize won't be his, at least for now but the district twelve girl belongs to him

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 here's the first chapter ;)) hope you like it?! Remember to give feedback guys! And beta read by @nowitsmissing

series masterlist | series taglist | navigation

previous : prologue

Coriolanus Snow wakes up to his grandmother singing the Panem national anthem. He quickly takes a shower, trying to ignore the squeaks of rats in his bathroom. He rubs himself clean, turning his skin red from the raw scrubbing. He stops as his fingers brush on the scar tissue he has on his wrist.

He takes a deep breath, not letting his mind wander off to you. It's the reaping day. It's the plinth prize. A prize he was going to win. You were of no importance today, or ever for that matter.

But still, he can't help but imagine that the date was etched on his skin. The numbers were written with ink darker than the night, now all that remained was an ugly scar that gave him a nastier remainder.

He shakes himself out of it. His hands grab a towel to dry himself. He fixes his curls, trying to make them as stylish as possible. He has a reputation to keep up after all. Thankfully, today wasn't one of the days in which his eye bags were obvious, the hollow of his cheeks too obvious due to lack of food.

He looked surprisingly healthy like any privileged Capitol citizen would look like.

He gets out of the bathroom to go to his grandma’ams. He gives her a note on her singing of the national anthem before asking her where Tigris is. Just on cue, Tigris bursts in.

Her voice was excited, her face all smiles. She hands him a shirt, his dad's old dress shirt renewed with tesserae buttons. He wore it, letting his cousin rant about the process of it all. Even though he had no interest in listening, it was a thank you in his way.

He pins the rose given to him on his shirt. Teasing his family members about new dresses and chocolates. He was going to win the Plinth Prize, nobody could take this away from him. It was his right.

In the academy, he chats with his inner circle. Making snide comments about Sejanus and his Ma. That's when you come in, a drink in your hand. Your eyebrows are raised as you look at Arachne with barely hidden disgust.

Fuck, you looked stunning in your dress. He has to dig his nails into his palm to remind himself not to stare. Why are you torturing him by being so pretty? You're just a district girl, you had no business having such beauty.

“Tell us who won,” Arachne said with her haughty voice, “Your boy toy surely would have spoiled it by now.” You laugh in response.

A small giggle escapes your lips. You don't take offense by having Sejanus being called your boy toy. Coriolanus wants to furrow his eyebrows from your reaction. Were you and Sejanus dating? No way in hell. Even if you're district, you're better than Sejanus in every way. He wants to scowl at the implications.

(You're his, his, his)

“I wouldn't dare ruin his big day, Arachne,” Sejanus's voice rings out instead, him standing behind you. His arm around your shoulder. “People may not like my father but they do love his money. Surely you can relate?” Sejanus grins.

“Funny,” Arachne replied with a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “Don't be mean, Sej.” You sip your drink and Coriolanus’ eyes can't help but follow the movement of your tongue poking out to lick your lips clean of the drink. His eyes also glare at Sejanus's hand on your shoulder, a part of him wishing he could break his arm.

You turn to Coriolanus. “Nice shirt,” you comment with a smile, and Snow can tell it's more genuine than anything you flashed at the rest of your classmates. He feels himself flush at the compliment. Not even stopping you even though he should because why should your dirty hands touch him? But he doesn't stop you when your fingers reach out to delicately touch the red rose pinned to his shirt.

“Such a beautiful flower,” you mutter in fascination, “and fresh too.” You tear away a rose petal, crushing the poor thing between your fingers, the tip of your fingers turning red.

He watched, no thoughts in his mind but he knew he should be offended. It has been ten years of your behavior he had endured, yet not once could he open his mouth to insult you.

How weak had you turned him since day one. If anyone knew, he would be ruined.

“Did you have to do that?” Clementia frowns, “Flowers are significant to the Snows.'' You only smirk in reply to Clementia. “I see,” you comment, before taking Sejanus's hand in yours.

You begin to walk away but Snow sees you turn around for a split second. Your eyes meet his and your lips form a word. Sorry. He mouths back, ‘ It's fine. ’

You smile at him and turn back, walking towards the chair where the top 24 seniors are supposed to sit, waiting for the announcement. You had let go of Sejanus’ hand by then, letting relief fall over Coriolanus.

Coryo's fingers rub the scar tissue over the fabric of his shirt. It was going to be fine. Over the years, both of you have grown up a lot. Despite having district blood, you consider yourself Capitol more than Sejanus did. You had adjusted first, and even if your peers didn't accept you, their families were certainly charmed by you during the galas.

You were smarter than Sejanus. You were better than Sejanus. Certainly, you couldn't be compared to the Capitol citizens, but you were worthy in Coriolanus' eyes. That doesn't mean he accepts you as his soulmate. That's something that won't ever change, however, the pride he felt towards you is something he couldn't control.

Coriolanus sits between you and Sejanus. He liked the fact that he was in between like a border neither of you should cross. Sejanus whispered to him, his voice grating but Coriolanus heard what he said.

“I know you had high hopes for this,” he whispered, “But there won't be no Plinth Prize. Not today.”

Coriolanus freezes as he hears what Sejanus means. What does he mean by no Plinth Prize? Never in history is that possible. Sejanus must have been mistaken. That's it because otherwise, everything in Coriolanus Snows’ life would go to hell.

However, Sejanus wasn't a liar nor did he make a mistake. Dean Highbottom soon revealed that the 10th annual Hunger Games and the mentor who won will win the prestigious prize Coriolanus needs. Livia Cardew, the girl he loathed, got someone from district one. Sejanus, the lucky bastard, had gotten someone in district two.

You had gotten the boy from district twelve. Someone named Jessup. The boy was healthy, fit, someone who could win under your guidance. Anger blooms in Coriolanus' chest, he tries hard to control the urge to not throw a chair at Dean Highbottom.

Even God wouldn't be so petty as the dean is. For reasons unknown why. The district twelve girl was his. Lucy Gray Braid.

Her makeup is jarring, she was wearing a dress that reminded him of clowns if they used more colors than red and white. The only thing good about her was how she captured attention despite the fact she had already insulted Snow by creating a facade in the reaping.

You can't take my sass

You can't take my talkin'

You can kiss my ass!

He looked at you when he heard the last part. A part of him craved your reaction, surely out of everyone, you wouldn't mock his tribute. You were district yourself after all. You wouldn't mock your people.

What Coriolanus Snow forgot was that you were his soulmate. And in no way the fates would allow his lover to be a saint, an angel as he had hoped for. You were anything but.

You had cruel amusement gleaming in your eyes. A smile of triumph on your lips as if you're sure that you will win the Hunger Games and not him. You turn to him, your eyes hiding the cruelty. You lean forward and Coriolanus counts to ten in his head so his eyes don't fall on your lipstick-stained lips.

“May the best man win,” you whispered, a smirk on your face, filled with the mockery all too familiar like the rest of his peers.

He was going to fucking show you.

“And hereby I declare the beginning of the 10th annual Hunger Games. May the odds be in your favor,” Dr. Gaul's voice calls out to the students.

Odds will be in his favor, whether it be willing by the Lord or his brute force.

Next Chapter

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[hunnidmilly]

on wat you on. z.f

fuck my nigga, he ain’t shit! boy ain’t good for nun but dick, flodgin like you wit yo niggas, pussy boy you wit that bitch.

parings: zilla fatu x black!reader

warnings: TOXIC ASS RELATIONSHIP LMAOO it’s all i’ve ever known this might hit close to home tbh. cheating, name calling, smut.

where the fuck you at? 12:24AM

let me find out you with yo hoe ass friend shakin’ yo ass and imma be on 10. 12:25AM

missed call from: Z<3

bro now you really got me fucked up. turn yo lo back on, bro. 12:27AM

yo. on my life, don’t make me come find yo stupid ass, ma. 12:29AM

(6) missed calls from: Z<3

i told yo ass i fell asleep at jey’s house yet you still wanna do the fuckin’ most and shit. but nah. you tryna listen to what janay ugly ass wanna say instead of me tho. might as well be fuckin’ her. 12:34AM

i really don’t give a fuck bout’ what you saying nigga. i’m on whatever you on. you fuckin them lame ass hoes anyways…so wassup fr? 12:36AM

ight. bet. 12:37AM

coo. 12:37AM

“girl! fuck his trifling ass fr! i’m tryna have a good time!” your friend, janay, yelled over the music in the club

“you right. i’m not even tryna get on that with him forreal. it’s whatever.” you declined zillas next call before powering your phone off completely. he wanted to take it to the next level? let’s see who finishes the game.

he kicked the shit off the night prior by not only not coming home, but going to the club all night with his cousins without telling you. to further push shit to the fam, he was on instagram live acting like he didn’t see your phone calls, or comments but replying to other thirsty ass hoes.

the last year and a half for you and zilla already had been rocky. him wanting to always be a hypocrite. he took issue with you going out and partying and dressing sexy as you wanting attention from other dudes, especially if janay was involved. yet with the rising popularity of his cousins in the WWE, all eyes were on him. the son of the late umaga currently creating a name for himself, straying away from the shadows of his family. that created a shit show as more female fans appeared.

him greeting them, smiling, creating more conversation than needed, following them on instagram, liking their tweets, giving them free tickets all kinds of shit. he stressed how it was just him trying to create his image to get his name more popping…lying ass nigga.

zilla loved the attention. especially from Aaliyah, a promoter at a local wrestling venue trying to recruit him for a match. she’d always make sure to show up in the tinest baby tee from the target toddlers section, low rise jeans showing off her tattoo near her midsection, a butterfly belly piercing, and lipgloss giving zilla ‘fuck me eyes’. he ate that shit up, too. smiling—making sure every diamond from his grill was flashing—making jokes, and laughing. you knew how important it was to zilla to join his family, but he couldn’t do that without being a friendly ass nigga?

everytime you brought it to his attention, it all started and ended the same. an argument until he fucked you into submission until tears streamed down your eyes making you forget exactly what causes the argument. you’d be cool for a few days and it’d all repeat again.

“ight yall. this next one for all my ladies in here lookin realll and i do mean reallll sexy.” the dj spoke before mixing the current song to get it sexyy by sexyy red.

the club wasn’t the place to nurse a broken heart. but having your hair, makeup, and nails done looking good? you felt better anyways. the music was a plus.

“cmon! i’m tryna dance. ill deal with that nigga tomorrow.” you tossed back your drink before grabbing janay and heading to the dance floor

you begin throwing your ass back without a care in the world. whatever it caught just happened. you knew your poster girl dress left little to the imagination, but that was neither here or there right now.

you felt hands slide across your ass bringing you towards someone’s lap. liquor taking over you backed into the dude behind you throwing your ass onto him and grinding. he got to excited as he pressed his growing erection onto your ass. while dude definitely wasn’t getting any play, you hoped someone was recording or was a friend of zilla to show him two can play the game. the dudes hands palmed over your thighs are you leaned against him letting his head fall into your neck, the strong smell of henny coming from him.

“damn baby. you tryna get fucked in the back? all this ass forreal. bet that pussy good ass fuck, too.”

“nah. i got some in the back for yo ass tho.”

your eyes went wide as the dude was snatched from behind you. you quickly spun around to see him getting punched in the face by zilla.

how the hell? who the hell, actually?

“what the fuck is wrong with you? why would you do that?” you yelled, uselessly shoving him backwards

“shut the fuck up and getcho ass in the car. yo ass got me so fucked up.” he yelled grabbing your wrist to drag you out the club

“nah! i’m good. get the fuc—“

“yo man, i ain’t know she was yo bitch. she lookin like she was ready to take some.”

zilla moved back towards the guy delivering another punch to his eye landing him back onto his ass. he grabbed your wrist back into his tight grip pulling you outside the club.

“get off me!” you snatched your arm back from him

“this the shit you doin! dancing with another motherfucka like a hoe knowing you got a man? this why ion want you with her ass! she put you up to this bullshit!” he yelled looking over your shoulder glaring at janay

“nigga fuck you. i wouldn’t have to convince her of shit if your toxic ass wasn’t a liar! what makes you think she wasn’t gone go out tonight to nurse her heart after you wanted to be with some groupies on ig live?” janay responded with just as much hatred for zilla

“mind yo fuck ass business. you deadass? i told you what i was doin! where i was!”

“the next day in the afternoon? oh so you just man of the year? fuck you.” you gloated rolling your eyes

“watch yo fuckin mouth talkin’ to me like that. i ain’t having this conversation out here with you either. get in the car.”

“what so you can go to the club with random bitches but i do it? im a hoe? i’m the problem? you’re crazy.”

“oh so you in there giving other dudes some play? like they finna line up for pussy cause you got an attitude? ight. bet.” zilla opened the passenger seat to his car eyeing you “getcho stupid ass in the fuckin car. you ain’t about to be out here tryna give some other dudes some pussy on some independent revenge shit.”

“ugh! fuck!” you grunted into the mattress as zilla plowed into you from behind

“nah, you wanna be big and bad right? take that shit like a good girl, ma.” zilla breathed out placing his foot ontop of the bed giving himself more control to pull your ass backwards, “throw that shit back, ma.”

your mind couldn’t even put 2 and 2 together from his rhythm, so his request went unanswered. his hand roughly came down on your ass cheek making you gasp, “what i say? hm? throw that ass back like you was on ole dude.” his hand came down on another slap before you began to throw it back onto him

“yeaaa, that’s right. look at that pussy. only dick she’ll ever know. had that motherfucker’ thinkin he was finna get some tonight. thought my baby was gone give him some. you was gone give him some baby?”

“ah! n-“

his hand came down on another slap making your pussy clench around him in a death grip.

“tight ass pussy. you was gone give him some of my pussy? what belongs to me?”

you couldn’t shake the feeling overpowering your anger. your pussy aching for that release, you knew your man was going to give you. each thrust had a small sting as zilla was forcing you to take all of him without allowing you to adjust for a moment. zilla not only had a big ego, but a big dick to match it. each time feeling like the first of getting fucked. zilla was a whole lot to handle and sometimes you needed a moment to take him in before he got started. but tonight was different. you ran your mouth off and he was once again, fucking you into submission and near amnesia to sweep the nights activities under the rug.

the car ride was filled with spiteful words. soon as you got home, you grabbed a duffle bag deciding you couldn’t do it anymore. you couldn’t take him wanting to be a hypocrite, an asshole, and being friendly. you were over it. calling your bluff, he yanked the duffle bag out your hand.

“you ain’t going no fucking where. sit the fuck down and take them panties off. running yo fuckin’ mouth. put that ass in the air, ma.”

“you really think, i’m about to give your bitch ass some? nah! let that other bitch get your dick wet. fuck you!”

“there is no other bitch. you think i’m letting you go over some bratty ass attitude you got? you wanted to get fucked tonight right? let me give you whatchu want. get them panties off.”

all it took was for you to raise your dress up to ur hips for zilla to see you had no panties on, for you end up in your current position. dress torn to shreds around your body, him naked, and pumping his dick into your pussy with no mercy, making you take every inch he had.

“whatchu was on tonight? wearing no panties? you like making me like this shit huh? you worried about me fuckin’ her, all i’m worried about is fuckin’ you. but you wanna be annoying and shit.” he grunted before speeding up his thrust

“shit! zilla—ssss—wai—“ you hissed out as you pushed back against his abdomen at an attempt to get him to slow down

“this wet ass pussy, nawl. you wanna be grown, showin yo ass, right? take this shit.” he pulled both your arms back into his wrist pinning them against your back. he rammed his dick into your tight space, using the advantage against you.

your sobs bouncing off the walls with the noise of your pussy squelching with every move of his hips. you couldn’t stop leaking like a faucet onto his dick. your juices connecting you to his lap as your ass rippled with each draw back. zilla gathered some of your arousal onto his thumb before pushing against your 2nd hole; it immediately clenching onto him.

“shit, baby! oh! ohhhhhh myyyy goddd.” you moaned at the feeling

your expression was priceless. teary eyes, pouty lips, and whines with the sheets coated in drool at how your pussy had a tight fit around him as he pumped. it felt too good. zilla quickly averted his attention to the ceiling with his lip in between his teeth; he was about to nut watching your pussy squeeze him. tonight was about teaching you not to fuck with him. while he crossed the line in your head, you crossed the fuck out of it in his.

“fuck, ma! i love this pussy. you was gone take her from me?” he panted speeding up “this pussy ain’t goin n’where. you ain’t going n’where.” he moaned out “takin’ me all good and shit. whining about how big it is. you can take this dick—keep that back arched f’me.”

“mmmmm.” you cried out feeling your nut rushing towards you. if he didn’t slow down soon, with his dick and his thumb, you were gonna make a mess all on him and the bed

“you wanna cum, ma? you think you earned it?” he asked removing his thumb and grabbing your hair to pull you towards him. his hand lowering towards where you both were connected and rubbed your clit in circles making your mouth open on a scream “who owns you? who this pussy belongs to?”

you tired to form a sentence in your head—anything! to please him to let you cum.

“who owns you? whose pussy is this?”

“yours.” you croak out in a small voice throwing your ass into his lap chasing his high

“nah.” zilla bends you forward again pushing at your back for your arch, “you wanna cum f’me? show me how bad. get that nut, ma.”

you placed your hands onto the bed before reversing the roles and fucking yourself with his dick. your body shuddering as you pushed yourself onto him.

“whose pussy is this? you ain’t cummin’ till you tell me.”

“mmmm fuck! yours zilla! it’s your pussy! a—i’m cumminggg ahhh.” you collapsed—temporarily loosing consciousness—to the bed as you gushed around his dick, your pussy convulsing around him mimicking your body as you thrashed on the bed babbling. zilla following behind you flooding your pussy with his cum. he let out a moan watching it spill out around the sides.

he wrapped you into a bear hug, panting deep into your ear as your bodies shuttered. he released a deep guttural moan as his dick kept twitching with spurts of his cum still shooting out.

“you ain’t going no fuckin’ where y’understand me? this pussy stayin right here and so is you,” he panted into your ear “you’re mines. no other fuckin’ dude. remember that shit. im yours. and you mines.”

“if i catch you talking to those groupie ass bitches again. imma cut all of yall. i mean that shit.”

zilla let out a chuckle as he pulled out of you. he bit his lip at the sight of your pussy pushing out whatever it couldn’t fit inside onto the sheets.

“i know, ma. i know.” he responded before heading to the bathroom.

even though you were in and out of consciousness fighting sleep, you didn’t miss him grabbing his phone out his pants pocket before.

you heard the sound of the shower running, nearly tuning his voice out, “…yea…just put her to sleep. have them panties off f’me when i get there. y’know how i want it, baby…you and janay getting all this dick t’night, aaliyah. t’care of each other fore’ i pull up. wantchall ready fa me. betta be wet too…ight…on the way.”

FA THE PLOT???? 😭. i wanted this have a cute ending but my trauma wouldn’t allow it LMAOOOOOO. 2 FICS IN ONE DAY IS CRAZYYYY

[oneforthemunny]

what we do in the shadows |familiar!eddie munson x vampire!reader|

prompt: eddie is your familiar, but sometimes, he can be more than just your supernatural servant.

based off the fx show, what we do in the shadows. a little au version with eddie and the gang from hawkins :)

contains: au. familiar!eddie, vampire!reader. mentions of murder. vampire things. blood. types of vampires (energy vampire lol). mean! bitchy! reader. alludes to smut?? sorta smut but not really but slight dom!reader x sub!eddie. language. minors dni.

“Eddie!” 

The muffled screech jolted Eddie from his mundane dusting, the feathered duster falling with a heavy thud onto the dark carpet, dust flying in a cloud at his feet. “Son of a bitch,” Eddie huffed, chains of his belt rattling when he bent, snatching the duster off the rug. 

“Eddie! Can you not hear me?” The piercing scream echoed through the hallway, echoing off the dark, wallpapered walls. Eddie knew he needed to hurry, that the banging on the coffin’s lid would come next, your fury following for the rest of the day. 

“I’m coming, Mistress!” Eddie’s teeth gritted, sliding down the dim, candlelit halls. How this place had managed to not burn down yet, Eddie wasn’t sure. The three of you were careless enough with the candles, always leaving them burning without a care. He supposed it was his job. 

“Eddie! Where the fuck is he?” Your muffled tone came from the coffin, black and dramatic in the middle of the room. 

“I’m here, I’m here.” Eddie huffed, pushing his bangs back out of his eyes. He needed a haircut, desperately, but with his new career, he supposed that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. 

“Finally,” You growled. Eddie was met with your glowing amber eyes narrowing in predatory rage when he lifted the coffin’s heavy lid. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?” You snapped. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie nodded, swallowing back a snapping comment. “I was dusting down the hall, and I lost track of-” 

“-Nevermind.” You snapped, rising quickly into a standing position. “Help me down. I have much to do today.” 

“Yes, Mistress.” Eddie stood to the side, offering his hand for you to take as you climbed down. He always wondered why you insisted on being helped out, as if you couldn’t fly out, snap your fingers and be wherever you wanted to be. It was symbolic, he decided, a way to ensure that he knew his place. 

Your hand slid into his. His skin tickled when you brushed your long, claw-like nails that were freshly painted every Tuesday. He’d gotten very good at it, Eddie thought. A hiss fell through the room, your hand pulled back with a sizzling burn, teeth bared towards him in threat. 

“What- Eddie! What have I told you about those rings?” You pointed accusingly at his rings- silver. It was a habit, to slip them on in the morning, one he hadn’t broken yet. “Are you trying to hurt me?” 

“No, no.” Eddie shook his head frantically, tugging the rings off, shoving them in his pocket. “I’m sorry. I-I forgot-” 

“-I’m sure you did.” You rolled your eyes, lips pursed in displeasure. “Don’t let it happen again. I burn myself again on those cursed things, and you’ll not have a hand to put them on anymore. Understand?” You clipped, nose in the air as you climbed down, nails digging into his skin just enough to solidify the threat. 

“Yes, Mistress.” Eddie swallowed, following the commanding sway of your hips. “I won’t let it happen again.” 

“Good.” You chirped. There it was. The whirlwind that was your emotions. Mood swings, Eddie never understood why they called them that until he met you. How you would go from raging to sweet in the bat of an eye. Maybe it came with being a vampire. 

“Get my dress.” You waved your hand, the heavy mahogany closet door flinging open with ease. 

“Which one were you wanting today?” Eddie swallowed his agitated sigh. 

It had been a rough couple of days, the three- fuck, four, of his new found ‘roommates’ had been on a bender of sorts. A bender that would put the rockstars he idolized in high school to shame, much more metal than them. It was fun, Eddie would admit, but it was tiresome. Especially when he was still very much human, and so very exhausted. 

“The black one.” You hummed, looking into a mirror you couldn’t see yourself in. Habit, of course, even after all these years. 

“They’re all black, Mistress.” Eddie gritted, eyes pinching closed. 

“The one with the long sleeves.” You waved him off. “You know the one I like.” 

And he did. Eddie knew most everything about you at this point. Which dress you liked, your preference of food source, how many candles you liked lit at a time. 

Eddie pushed through the racks, stopping when he saw the velvet garment. It was what you were wearing when he first met you. At the Hideout, where he was still bussing tables, hoping to finally get a weekend gig. You strolled in, magnetic from the moment his eyes laid eyes on you. So… intriguing in your tight velvet dress, fastened with a corset that held you up and in beautifully. Initially, he’d went to try and ask you out, and you’d humored his attempts because you were hungry. Then, after a few hours of conversation, you both decided he’d be a better Familiar than a meal.

“Eddie,” You hissed, breath whistling through your fangs. The sound never failed to make Eddie’s spine tingle, hair raising on the back of his neck in fear. “Have you hit your head? Is that it?” 

“No,” Eddie grumbled, pushing the wooden hangers. 

“Then what is it? Hm? Why are you dragging your feet today?” You snapped, hands curling around your hips. 

“My apologies, Mistress.” Eddie huffed. “I’m just- nevermind. Here. I found it.” Eddie pulled the lacy material, hanging sleeves and bouts of black fabric out of the closet, hanging it on the door for you. 

“No, finish what you were going to say.” Your eyes narrowed into his, commanding, but lacking the usual tone of challenge and threat. “You’re what?” 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine. Do you need help zipping up this one-” 

“-No, answer me, Eddie.” You lifted a finger towards him. “Do not make me use compulsion. I know how groggy and moody you get after it, and I have many plans for today. I’d rather not, but if you’re not going to comply, then I will be forced to-” 

“-You don’t have to- Fuck, I’m just tired.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped in defeat, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” 

“Why?” Your head tilted, lips pursed in curiosity, reaching for the dress before sliding behind the dressing curtain. 

“Because,” Eddie tried to focus on the carpet, on the candle wax that dripped off the table, anywhere but the curtain you were behind though he ached for even a silhouetted sliver of your frame. “I just couldn’t sleep.” 

“Maybe you should get a coffee?” You peaked over the bamboo wood, a brow lifting in… playfulness? 

“I think Robin has the lock box in her room. Ask her for it and go get yourself one.” As if draining a victim of their blood wasn’t enough, Eddie’s career consisted of stealing from them too. It always left him feeling a little uneasy, guilty, robbing the deceased. 

“I’m alright. I just need a second to wake up.” Eddie muttered, heel of his palm pressing to his eyes, rubbing so hard he saw stars. 

“Fine, but I better not hear one yawn during the house meeting.” You glared, stepping out from behind the dressing curtain. “You know how that irks me. Zip me.” 

Eddie stood, one hand holding the top together, pulling the zipper slowly up your spine, finger brushing over your spine. Your skin was cold, like ice, a chilling reminder of what you truly were. 

“Last chance.” You turned, swiping your shoes from the floor, discarded from the night before. “Before I go and wake the others.” 

“I’m fine.” Eddie nodded softly, lips curling with the hinting of a smile. “Thank you.” 

Your lips pursed, shifting at the sudden gratitude. He knew you were about to say something mean, put him down to establish your own dominance, you were predictable that way. “Don’t thank me,” You scoffed. “It’s not for you. I don’t want to hear your yawning.” You scoffed, eyes rolling hard towards him, before you were stomping down the creaking wooden planks of the hall. 

The Creel Mansion was still standing strong, despite its abandoned looking exterior. It had been your refuge for years, decades even, since Victor had first brought you there. It was his house before, but now all that remained of him was a portrait at the end of the hall, half covered by a black veil you refused to let Eddie move. 

“Robin!” Your shrill tone made Eddie wince, ears ringing at the pitch. “Nancy!” 

“What?” Robin groaned, her voice muffled with sleep from the door of her coffin, which you pulled open, uncaring of disrupting her slumber. “What- Why?” 

“House meeting. Hurry, before he gets home.” You muttered, turning over your shoulder towards Eddie. “Eddie, go check downstairs. Make sure he didn’t slip in early.” 

Eddie nodded, grabbing a small handheld lantern- a gift from you. He kept burning himself with the candle opera you’d gifted him, and when he wasn’t searing his skin off with the flame, he was turning to quickly and extinguishing all the flames. You told him it was because he’d wake you up with his fumbling in the dark. When you’d included the batteries with the small lantern, Eddie was convinced it was because you were growing a soft spot for him. 

A creaking of a door had Eddie jumping, looking through the flickering flames with his bright plastic lantern. “Uh, hey,” Eddie stepped closer. “Anyone there?” 

The silence was an eerie answer, Eddie swinging the lantern around. It was times like this, he really wished that the electricity still worked, that he could flick a light on, and see what was lurking in the shadows. The dining room appeared empty, a few spider webs and lots of dust, but lack of any danger Eddie could see. 

“Looking for something?” 

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck-” Eddie jumped, nearly dropping his lantern, tripping over his own feet to scatter away from the figure in front of him. 

“Did I scare ya?” Jonathan’s lips curled in a half smile, standing rigidly in the doorway. “You know, they say if you get scared easily, you’re not living right. That’s a saying that’s been repeated and found all throughout history. In Christianity, oddly enough, is where they-” 

“-Alright, Jonathan. I got it.” Eddie lifted a hand, his heart still hammering. He could feel his lids beginning to droop, eyes starting to gloss over the way they always did when Jonathan ‘fed’. A shitty excuse for a vampire, Eddie thought, What the fuck even is a psychic vampire? 

“Oh,” Your face fell, contorting into a grimace when you came down the steps. “Jonathan, you are home early today.” 

“Yes, I decided to come home early today.” Jonathan droned in a painful monotone that had your shoulders tensing. “I didn’t want to miss the house meeting.” 

“Wonderful.” You grimaced, looking at Eddie with an annoyed sneer. He fought back a snicker, turning to the bat down a cobweb that he missed. You could be funny at times, when you wanted. 

“I know you three tried to hide it from me, but you always talk too loud. You forget the walls are thin. Which reminds me, did you know that back in the early nineteen-hundreds when this house was first built, that architects of that time used-” 

“-Yes, Jonathan. Please, shut the fuck up.” Robin groaned, falling into the leather armchair. 

“Jonathan, I really can’t humor you today.” Nancy glared at him lightly. “You know the rules, if you’re going to be in a house meeting with us, you can’t feed off of us.” 

“I know.” Jonathan lifted his hands. “Sorry, I can’t help myself.” He turned to Eddie with a grin. “Guess it’s just you I’ll be feeding from.” 

“Not from my Familiar either, Jonathan.” You snapped, teeth baring in territorial threat. “Eddie is off limits.” Eddie’s chest swelled with pride, chin tipping towards the floor, hoping it would hide his blush. 

“Why are we even having a house meeting?” Robin rolled her eyes, the bags under her eyes especially prominent from lack of slumber. 

“Because,” You hissed, shoulders tight with annoyance. “You three need to get your own familiar.” 

Robin scoffed, Nancy rolling her eyes in agreement. “What?” 

“You three always call for Eddie to do everything, and it distracts him from me.” You jabbed a sharp nail into your chest. “I need him to be attentive to my needs, not yours. Go get your own familiar.” 

“Oh, please-” 

“-We only ask him to do a few things that should already be done-” 

“-I have to agree with Rob and Nance on this one.” Jonathan lifted a finger. 

“Do not call me that.” Nancy hissed, her teeth baring in the dull light of the room. 

“Nan?” Jonathan turned, eyes lighting up though his expression stayed neutral, the way it always did when he was feeding. 

“Ok,” You lifted your hands, stopping the attack Nancy was about to launch. “Find your own familiar. Eddie is my familiar, and is to attend to me exclusively.” 

“I’m sure he does.” Robin muttered, Nancy’s snicker making your ears burn- well, it would, if they still could. Eddie’s cheeks did burn a bright red, shifting at the innuendo. 

Your eyes narrowed, a threatening glare that neither of your roommates seemed phased by, only furthering your irritation. A sharp snap of your fingers, heavy soled steps clicking down the hall, and Eddie was following you.  

“Idiots,” You hissed, flinging the door open. “All of them. I should’ve told them no, that they’d have to find their own nest, but oh no. I had to feel fucking generous and kind that day.” 

Eddie stood in your doorway, hands rubbing down the material of his jeans, unsure of what to say, what to do. His eyes on you, waiting for your next command, for you to tell him what you were wanting, what you were thinking. 

“Are you just going to stand there?” You huffed, a lashing tone that had Eddie jumping. 

“No, wha-what do you need me to do?” Eddie stammered, uneasy with the glare you were giving him, so menacing. He knew better, or at least he thought he did, that you wouldn’t hurt him. You’d chosen him to be your Familiar for a reason… right?

“I don’t know, something?” You scoffed, eyes rolling back over his frame. “Maybe start with changing your clothes. We’re going out tonight and I’m not being seen with you in that.” 

Eddie’s lips pursed, jaw grinding tight. He’d blame the lack of sleep on his agitation. “What do you want me to wear then, Mistress?” Eddie’s tone was bitter, toying on the edge of annoyance. 

“Who are you speaking to-” 

“-You.” Eddie snapped, shocking both of you. There was a pause, realization washing over the two of you. “I just- I like what I have on, ok?” Eddie’s tone was softer, looking down at his ripped jeans and holey band tee. “It’s what people from this century wear.” 

Your lips rolled, flattening into a furious line. For a moment, Eddie thought you might pounce- fully preparing himself for the hiss, the baring of teeth, to feel his throat being ripped from his neck. Instead, you simply huffed, turning on your foot. 

“Fine.” A quipping, positively moody huff of a reply came. In that moment, you sounded petulant, human. 

“If you insist on wearing mauled clothing, then so be it.” You shrugged, a snarl still pulling on the edge of your lips. 

“Thank you.” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the tremble in his throat. “And, uh, thank you for before, too.” You turned, brow lifted in intrigue. “For- During the meeting.” 

“I didn’t do that for you.” Your reply was quick, teetering on defensive. “I did that for myself. I can’t wait for you because they’re too lazy to go out and compel their own Familiar.” 

“Right.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He gave up, ready to throw the towel in. Clearly, you were set on your mood and there would be no changing it. No swaying it with charming kindness today. 

“I’m going to go.” Eddie stepped towards the door. “I’ll go dust or something. Just let me know when you’re ready to go-” 

“-No.” Your voice echoed through the halls, bouncing off the walls, a sense of urgency that had Eddie freezing. 

You wrung your hands in front of you, anxiously. “No, just- stay in here.” 

Eddie frowned. “You just told me to go do something.” 

“I know,” You huffed. “But, just stay in here with me. Robin and Nancy won’t be ready for hours, and… and if you go down there Jonathan will try to feed and drain you, and-” 

Eddie recognized the ramble in your tone, a sliver of humanity breaking through the cracks of your cold, monstrous exterior. It was rare, you to turn soft like this- needy, but Eddie knew why you did it. He knew what you wanted. 

“Fine.” Eddie nodded, stepping into your bedroom, shutting the door carefully so the candles didn’t blow out. 

A lingering pause fell between the two of you, thick with an uncomfortable but familiar tension. Routine but an oddity all the same. 

“What do you want me to do in here, hm?” Eddie’s voice dropped, slow steps across the hardwood towards you. “Just sit here and stare at you.” 

“No,” Your chest tightened. It had been years since your heart had beat, but you swore Eddie could make it skip. “Surely, there’s something better that we could do to pass the time.” You declared, voice a little shaky with desperation to regain your control. 

“Yeah? What do you have in mind?” Eddie’s lips curled in a smirk, his face near inches from yours. “I’m at your service, Mistress.” 

Your body tingled with heat, the only warmth you craved, the only warmth you needed. You were shocked, when you first transitioned to your undead state, that this feeling didn’t go away. If anything, it grew stronger. 

“I think you know what I have in mind.” You glared at him, half heartedly. “Don’t make me beg, or I’ll make you beg later.” 

“I would never, Mistress.” Your thighs twitched, Eddie’s hands sliding over the lacy material of your dress, the swell of your hips. “I’m your faithful servant. You just tell me what you want- whatever you need.” 

“Hm,” You breathed slowly, your body closing in with him, chest to chest. Your nails raked over the etched skin of his forearms, dragging a sharp nail up his neck, to his jaw. Eddie shuddered, fingers sinking into your waist 

Your lip grazed over his, mouth parting just barely, your fangs hovering over his bottom lip teasingly. Eddie swallowed back a moan that you didn’t miss. Your eyes met his, darker now- nearly black, the way they always darkened when you got like this. Aroused and needy, entirely hungry for something. 

“You’ve got to be quiet this time.” You gave him a pointed look. “They heard last time. They’re starting to catch on.” 

“Sorry.” Eddie swallowed, nose brushing over yours. He wanted to press his hand to the back of your head, kiss you with an urgency, but he knew better. That wasn’t how you liked it. Oh no, you liked the anticipation, the adrenaline filled excitement that came with teasing. 

“Who cares if they know anyways?” Eddie muttered brainlessly, eyes glossing when they met yours. “What’s so wrong with it?” 

“It’s unnatural.” You whispered. “Complicated.” 

“What’s so complicated about it?” Eddie scoffed lightly, hand sliding up your spine, towards your zipper. “You’re turning me into a vampire anyways, right? Why’s it matter?” 

You hesitated, breath hitching and ghosting over his lip, chilling him. “It’s just- it makes things difficult now.” You stammered, fingers sliding through his hair. “I don’t want to talk about that now.” Your thumbs pressed lightly to his temples, his eyes meeting yours. 

“For now,” You purred, lips curling in a small grin. “I think you should thank me again, but this time,” Your nose brushed over his. “By letting me sit on your face. That seems fair, right? You thank me, I keep you quiet- a win-win.” 

Eddie blushed, lips spreading in a wide grin. “Yes, Mistress.”

[kujousgf]

MOVIESTAR. mdni. 18+.

pairings: natasha romanoff + camgirl!reader

summary: your girlfriend offers to help during one of your streams

warnings: dom!top!natasha, sub!bottom!reader, handcuffs, edging, fingering, mouth fucking

wc: 1.5k~

a/n: this very vaguely fits this req so, i hope you enjoy this anon !

When you had told your girlfriend what you’d been getting up to in your free time and why you were suddenly spending more money online shopping than you ever had before, this is not exactly how you expected her to react. Not that you thought she’d react poorly, she would never, but you certainly hadn’t expected her to want to appear in one of your streams.

Natasha doesn’t know why you’re so surprised, really. She just needs to make sure all the pathetic men and women watching know that you’re taken. That you only pretend to be interested in them because they throw money at you, nothing more than that, because you belong to her. And you would never belong to anyone else.

Well, that and you expressed that you weren’t entirely comfortable in front of the camera just yet, still shy and nervous about what to do and say, but your viewers didn’t seem to mind too much. And, well, if that was the case, who was Natasha to deprive everyone of seeing just how cute you are when you really get shy? It seemed a shame, really, to deprive them of that when you'd recently been talking about how much you wanted a new couch. Natasha was sure she'd get them to pay for it for you.

-

"C’mon, pretty girl... Show ‘em how you touch yourself for me,” Natasha murmurs into your ear, dipping her head down to nip at your earlobe. Her rough hands slide up and down your sides in what is supposed to be a comforting manner, but really just makes you squirm in her hold. “I thought you said you’ve done this before, princess? Don't be shy…” You huff at her words and roll your eyes, she’s acting like she doesn’t have your hands cuffed behind your back, like you’re disobeying her words on purpose.

Her hands move down to your thighs, blunt nails raking against your skin before gripping them and pulling them apart, showing off the damp spot on your lace panties. “Just look at how wet you are already—” she’s interrupted by the, in her opinion, incessant dinging sound of the donations finally starting to pour in and she takes a glance at the comments that accompany some of them.

[user2340293] donated $5: quit playing around and just fuck her already

[scarletmommy] donated $200: oh, a guest? how cute

[user04930291] donated $15: you’re so fucking hot

“Everyone's gettin’ so impatient, baby. C’mon, be a good girl.” Natasha smirks, a teasing laugh escaping her lips. She leans down to kiss at your neck, and then takes the opportunity to scrape her teeth against the soft skin there, threatening to bite down and leave her mark. “Tasha.. cut it out.” Her words and actions make your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

You don’t usually get so worked up when she teases you like this, but knowing that you’re streaming right now makes you more embarrassed than usual. “What? You need me to do everything for you now?” She squeezes your thigh before moving her hand up closer towards your core, ghosting her fingers along your skin, up your thigh, across the waistband of your paintes. You jolt when you feel it snap against your skin, the stinging feeling pulling a whine from your throat, “Natasha, please.”

“Hm? What was that?” She's just being mean now, wants to hear you get all desperate for her. “Please what? I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what you want, princess.” Natasha smirks, not that you can see it from where you’re sitting between her legs, but you can practically hear it in her voice. “Please, touch me.”

She had been teasing you practically all day, groping you whenever she could, whispering things into your ear, you couldn’t take it anymore. You know she probably planned this all along, getting you all desperate and then all of a sudden suggesting she appear on a stream with you. “See, was that so hard? All you had to do was ask.”

Natasha’s hand slides down the front of your clothed cunt, the heel of her palm grinding against your clit and pulling a whimper from your throat. Her fingertips ghost along the edge of your panties, teasing, for what feels like forever until she finally uses her other hand to pull your panties to the side. She hooks her arm under your leg to keep them apart just in case you decide to try and get shy again. She's reminded of the stream once more, when that awful dinging sound of the donations picks up again when your glistening cunt is exposed to the camera.

[user0012394] donated $15!

[mvriahill] donated $100!

[user1205938] donated $10!

Two of her fingers dip inside your drooling hole, but they’re gone just as fast as they came because she’s leaning forward to really show the camera how wet you are, pushing you forward with her. Your breasts are now on full display as well, threatening to spill out of the flimsy lace bra you’re wearing. She moves her fingers around in the light and spreads them apart to show off the string of slick dripping from them. “Look how excited our little moviestar is,” she grins, spreading your slick around her fingers before bringing them up to your mouth, “open up, princess.”

Her fingers push past your lips before you can even react to her words and you wrap your lips around them, tongue tracing the length of her fingers and then pushing between them, cleaning your slick off of them. Natasha pushes her fingers further into your mouth and you choke a little, gagging around them as tears begin to prick at your eyes. You look a little pitiful and Natasha’s not even being as rough with you as she usually is.

She's showing you off to the camera like some sort of whore now, really getting into it, looking at the screen showing the live feed. “See, isn’t this better? You just needed me to come here and show you how to properly stream, isn't that right, baby?” She uses her free hand to tug your bra down, “need to let them see all of you,” she says casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You're drooling around her fingers as she starts to play with your tongue, drool dripping down onto the bed sheets. “Just look at you, making such a mess already.” She hums as she starts to thrust her fingers into your mouth, and then you’re choking on her fingers again as she shoves them down your throat, tears starting to spill from your eyes. “Crying already? We're just getting started, princess,” she laughs, “you didn’t think I’d go easy just because we’re on camera, did you?”

[user8674439] donated $20!

[user5693842] donated $5!

[captaindanvers] donated $500!

She leans back and lets you settle against her as she continues pushing her fingers to the back of your throat. She holds them there for a second before pulling them out completely and letting out a little chuckle at the way you gasp for air.

She hooks her hand under your leg again to keep them open before moving her other hand back to your cunt. “Maybe I'll go a little easy. I have to keep some things just for me.” She murmurs, kissing the top of your head tenderly. Her fingers teasingly circle your clit as she speaks and you shiver slightly at the feeling of her spit-covered fingers against your slick cunt.

“Tasha, please, inside.” You plead, pulling against the cuffs around your wrists. If you could grab her wrist and force her hand down lower you would, stupid cuffs. “Well since you asked so nicely, sweetheart.” She grants you a little mercy by moving her hand lower and immediately sinking two fingers into your heat. The heel of her palm grinds against your clit as she thrusts her fingers in and out.

Little moans and whimpers slip past your lips as Natasha fingers you, curling her fingers every few thrusts just to hear the sounds she can pull out of you. The pads of her fingers drag against a particularly sensitive spot at the same time as her palm presses against your clit and your thighs try to snap shut instinctively. “Keep them open. Be a good girl.” Her other hand grips your thigh tightly and forces it open, her blunt nails digging into your flesh.

She can hear the annoying dinging of the donations and she tries her best to block it out. What a horrible noise. She finds the perfect way to drown it out when she picks up her pace and your moans get louder. You can feel yourself getting closer and your fists clench behind your back, “Tasha, f–fuck, please.”

“Are you close, baby? Are you gonna cum for me?” When you nod in response, Natasha does the unthinkable and takes her fingers away. You whine pathetically and she laughs, squeezing your thigh. “I didn't say you were allowed to cum. I told you, I have to keep some things just for me, baby.”

Natasha’s starting to think maybe this camming thing isn’t so bad after all.