#he can rap…so he’s good with his tongue…

[nateezfics]

i haven’t been the same since this man picked up that electric guitar…

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 | dad's best friend!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on the following request: what would dilf/dad's best friend cillian do if he found your dildo?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble...)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only), significant age gap (reader is college-aged, cillian is in his late forties), voyeurism/exhibitionism, semi-public sex, use of toys, praise kink, unprotected sex, very brief/semi sarcastic 'sir' kink, shockingly fluffy??

Not that your parents' anniversary cocktail party wasn't horribly riveting (cue dramatic eyeroll) but you were upstairs, on your bed, on your phone; you'd had enough of 'so how's college going?' and 'what's your major again?' and 'got any boyfriends yet? you must be a heartbreaker' for one evening— or a lifetime, preferably.

It wasn’t even that comfortable to be on the bed in your party dress—a cute, short sparkly one that you’d picked out for tonight—but it was better than standing around and trying to balance in those sky-high heels; those you had kicked off into the corner of the room the second you were alone.

When you heard a small rap on the door, you hummed a quick "Come in!" and didn't even look up from your phone, figuring it was your mom or dad come to find you after you disappeared.

Instead, you heard Mr. Murphy's voice as he leaned in the doorframe; "Sorry to bug you," he said, startling you slightly as you closed Instagram and set your phone down. "Just needed a Tide pen— your mom said you might have one in here?"

"O-oh, yeah," you said, sitting up, "sure— what happened?"

"Salsa fiasco," he joked softly as he shut the door behind him, showing you the dark red stain on his shirt— though the shirt itself was red, so it wasn't too egregious, but still noticeable.

"That's too bad," you chuckled, "I warned them about that salsa— if you serve salsa, there's gonna be a fiasco, that's what I said."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "They should listen to you more," he agreed.

"I've got a couple stain remover pens in that top drawer," you suggested as you pointed to your dresser.

"Great," he smiled, starting to unbutton the shirt; you got nervous for a second until you realized he had on a black undershirt beneath. It's hard to say why you were nervous about that, since you'd seen him shirtless plenty of times in the years you'd known him...

"Nobody's worried about me going missing, right?" you wondered as he continued working on the buttons, and he shook his head while shrugging slightly.

"Not yet," he replied, "but they're going to want to find you soon, you're sort of the star of the night."

You rolled your eyes, frowning. "It's my parents' anniversary party, I think they should be the focus."

"Maybe they should, but you're the much more interesting one," he informed you.

You pulled your legs up a bit, leaning to the side as you sat on your bed; as much as all this attention from your parents' friends was usually annoying to you, something about being interesting to Mr. Murphy didn't bother you so much. "Is it weird for you?" you asked, lowering your voice a bit; he tilted his head quickly as if to ask what you meant. "Going to an anniversary party after, you know—"

The words hung in the air, seeming to gather around his conspicuously naked ring finger: after the divorce. "Oh, no," he scoffed, taking off his cufflinks. "It's fine; but I'm sick of the questions about it."

You winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he laughed finally shirking off the shirt; he looked a little too good in just the short-sleeved undershirt. "You can make it even by letting me ask you how college is going."

"Oh god," you groaned, rolling your eyes, and he laughed.

"If I didn't know from your parents that you were acing it, I'd worry that your aversion to talking about it meant you were struggling somehow."

"It's not that," you assured, "it's the people."

"The people?" he pressed. "Or the guys?"

You laughed nervously, looking down at your lap. "Geez, you learn to mindread while I was gone or something?"

He stepped around your bed to get to the dresser, laying his shirt down over it. "No, I just remember that time— somehow. And I remember how much of a headache I and every other young guy was."

"I guess not much has changed then," you smiled.

"What, I'm still a headache?" he grinned as he looked over his shoulder at you.

"No, I meant—"

"I know what you meant, I'm just teasing," he chuckled. "Top drawer you said?"

"Yeah," you nodded, and he opened the top drawer of the dresser; of course, only right then did you remember that you should have specifically said top left. Because the top right was—

Oh shit.

You swallowed thickly as Cillian stared down into the open drawer, and your heart pounded as you somehow hoped and prayed that what was in there had turned invisible or something; but if the look on his face was anything to go by, it was just as visible as ever.

“I—fuck, sorry, I forgot that’s—” you choked out, face burning impossibly hot.  “I never meant for you to see—I’m—could you shut the fucking drawer, please, you pervert?!”

“I’m the pervert?” he laughed thinly, looking at you again finally.  “You’re the one with a massive fucking dildo in here.”

“Well—you weren’t supposed to see that—”

“Yeah, but—fuck,” he choked, “I was just looking for your stain remover and I see your— you have a— are you sure that isn’t technically considered a weapon or something?  How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”

“That’s the great thing about it: he doesn’t have to compete,” you explained, “that’s sort of the whole idea.”

He looked back at it for a second and you yelped, reaching your leg off the bed to kick him in the hip.  “Would you please shut the drawer?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed a bit, “but I mean, how am I supposed to react to that?

“Well, you’re not supposed to just stare at it!” you insisted.

He shut the drawer, giving you a look you couldn’t possibly decipher.

“What were you thinking?!” you said, somewhat rhetorically.

“I—well,” he hummed, looking away from you for a second, “I was thinking that I can’t imagine how you can possibly fit something like that.”

You blinked quickly, not sure what to say in response to that.  “Well—I mean, it’s a little big, but… it gets the job done.  Keeps me from calling the guys I shouldn’t be calling.”

He nodded.  “Well, that’s good… none of those college boys could possibly deserve you…”

His eyes were running all over you, and even though you’d picked out this dress just for this party because you loved how you looked in it, you felt a little exposed by his stare.

“I just can’t believe a girl like you—”

“Come on, I’ve never been a saint,” you scoffed, glancing away.

“No, I just mean… the size of that thing…” he trailed off.

“You really can’t get over that part,” you noticed, “is this some kind of… intimidation, Freudian situation?”

You glanced quickly at his pants, and he started to deny it instantly.  “No—come on, it’s not—I just can’t believe you take all that.  For fun.  It looks like it would break you.”

You hadn’t even had any drinks at this anniversary party, and yet you found yourself with this foggy head like you were tipsy; you blurted something out as if you were tipsy.  “What, you want me to prove it?”

His chest sunk a bit, and you were about to take it back when he spoke before you.  “I’d like to see you try.”

Biting your lip, you sat up on the bed, reaching around him and into the drawer.  He didn’t step back or out of the way, just let you grab the toy and lean back on the bed in front of him.

You reached up under your dress, sliding your panties out of the way, finding yourself suddenly plenty wet to fit this toy.

His eyes never left you, though they certainly travelled all over your body as you pressed the toy up to your entrance; it was thick, he wasn’t wrong, and you had to slowly warm yourself up to it whenever you used it on yourself. 

After pushing with enough pressure, the tip finally slipped inside and you let out a small sigh.  He watched carefully, and your lips fell open into a moan as you pushed the toy deeper into yourself.  When the stretch became a bit too sharp, you winced and slowed down, trying to take your time even with your heart racing and hands shaking.

You heard his own breathing picking up, watching you take the toy deeper; you found your gaze wandering over him, even lingering on his groin to see if you could catch a bulge growing there, but nothing was obvious yet.  You stared for a moment at his hands, too, suddenly wishing to have them all over you—well, maybe not that suddenly, you’d sort of thought about this before.  It wasn’t until somewhat recently that you noticed how sexy he was.  Maybe when you were younger, you understood that he was better looking than all the other adults you knew, but only once you left for college did you start thinking about him out of nowhere, imagining what he was really like when he wasn’t just being friendly with you—you even asked your mom once on a phone call if he was dating anyone.  Thankfully, she didn’t seem to get suspicious when you asked that; but she’d be more than fucking suspicious if she walked in now, saw you doing this to yourself under his watchful eye.

Oddly enough, the knowledge that someone could walk in and see this just made you even more desperate, and you gasped as you pushed the toy in deeper.

It still wasn’t all the way in, and you already felt so full… truth be told, he had a point about it maybe being too big for you—when you usually used it on yourself, you only put it in a little over halfway, since that was all you really needed.  You hadn’t put the whole thing inside since you first got it—and yes, you’d ordered it online, because if you’d seen it in person you probably would’ve been as intimidated by its girth as he was.

Your decision not to wear a bra with this dress became very apparent when his gaze settled on your chest; your nipples were hard, and clearly visible under the fabric now.  It was just because it was strapless that you went without, but you were thankful for it when you saw him quickly lick his lips at the sight.  You dared to moan just a little louder as you pulled the toy in and out, picking up your pace carefully.

“How’s it feel?” he asked lowly, his eyes drifting back to where the toy slid into you. 

“Good,” you mumbled, “really fucking good.”

“Can you really take it all?” he pressed, making your walls clench on the silicone.

Instead of answering aloud, you simply pushed it all the way in until your eyes rolled back—it was so deep, pressing heavy and fat against your deepest points until it felt like you might burst.

“Fuck,” he praised—it was just a swear, but the way he whispered it made it sound like a praise.

You sped up slightly, trying to do this the way you normally would without someone staring at you.  But you were even more sensitive with him watching, your walls clenching more and more around the toy until it was almost hard to keep thrusting it in and out.  Sighing, you shut your eyes and laid back on the bed to try to help yourself relax.  The change in angle just seemed to make the toy go deeper, rubbing harder against the spot inside you that made your back arch.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed; you whimpered, nodding in agreement, and kept moving the dildo as deep as you could get it with every thrust. 

Your free arm went back over your head to hold onto the comforter under you, your hand gripping tight for some relief for the pressure inside you.  “Fuck yes,” you whispered, knitting your brows together and fucking yourself faster.  “Feels so fucking good…”

He hummed a little, but you kept your eyes shut, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you looked at him again.  It had been months since you used anything but this, and you had no regrets—the toy performed way better than any of the guys you’d met at college.  But, truthfully, you didn’t like having to do this to yourself.  It felt like you could never move it fast or hard enough, and you needed to constantly have perfect control over the toy to get yourself to come—and when you come, the last thing you want is to take control, you want to lay back and lose control.  Still, it was better than the college fuckboys who smelled like beer and didn’t last more than two minutes.

Thinking about them wasn’t going to help you now, though; it was much better to think about Cillian, about those icy blue eyes running all over your body, about how his hands would hold you down while he claimed you, about how his lips would feel on your neck before he whispered in your ear that you were his…

You let out a sharp and sudden moan as the toy hit harder on that spot; your legs started to shake.  “Good girl,” he mumbled, making you moan even louder because god, those words just sounded right in his accent, with that rough voice—and they sounded right being said to you.

“Fuck,” you choked, “Mr. Murphy, I—”

He laughed a little.  “So polite,” he cooed.  “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Though it made your heart beat even faster, you did as you were told.  His stare was all-encompassing, making you feel completely trapped in a way you enjoyed more than you could’ve imagined. 

“Call me Cillian,” he insisted.

You weren’t sure if he meant to literally call him that right in that moment, but it sort of came out anyway: “Cillian,” you moaned, and the grip he’d taken on the dresser behind him tightened.

“Can you come for me?” he asked lowly.  “Right now?  Can you come on that fake cock?”

You bit your lip and nodded, moving the toy faster and faster— more desperate to come than ever.  “I—fuck, yeah, I’m close…”

“Good,” he praised again.  “Let me see you come, honey.”

Your back arched harder, deeper—your hands were shaking but you kept going, holding on tight to the dildo and forcing it back and forth as your legs began to quiver.

Moans poured from your mouth faster than you could try to quiet them—everyone was downstairs, you just had to hope the music and conversation was enough to drown out your desperate, pleading noises.  “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled, right as you hit the peak and melted into the mattress, a wave of ecstasy pouring over you.

You felt hot everywhere, but especially between your legs—you could swear you felt yourself leaking out around the toy, soaking it, giving away how needy you’d become and not even having the mental energy to feel any shame for it.

Cillian certainly didn’t look like he was trying to shame you for it; when you opened your eyes again, he had a stunned expression—in the best way.  “You normally come that fast for a toy?”

You laughed a little, but you still couldn’t quite catch your breath.  “No,” you admitted, “it normally takes… a bit longer than that…”

“What was different about tonight?” he mused, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes again.

“Shut up,” you sighed.  “Now I have to figure out how to take this thing out—I’m always sore after…”

“If you can handle putting it in, taking it out shouldn’t be much trouble,” he noticed.

Which, yes, that would make sense, but after coming you always got all tight and sensitive and it could be a little intense.

“How about I help you?” he offered, and your chest tightened.  He waited for you to nod before carefully wrapping his hand around your own, watching your face as he gently guided you to pull the toy out.

Your lips were slack and your eyes were probably glassy and dazed as he looked at you like that, completely enveloping you in his stare as he studied every detail of your expression.  Aside from some heavy breathing you didn’t react much to him sliding the toy out of you, until the ridge of the head reached your entrance and you winced.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s okay…”

A long sigh of relief emptied your chest when the toy tapered off and you felt the last of it slip out of you; you really noticed then how soaked you were, as a draft in the room seemed to cling to the patch of wetness that had coated all between your legs somehow.

“Lemme see, baby,” he cooed under his breath as he set the toy aside, kneeling down and resting a hand on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs open.

You could barely catch your breath with him doing that; you’d never had someone… look at it like that.  You felt incredibly vulnerable but impossibly sexy as you heard him sigh at the sight.  “Is it all stretched out now?” you wondered.

“No,” he said, “you look… just as tight as before.  Fuck.  That’s incredible.”

You bit your lip, sitting up enough to try to get a look at his face past the puffiness of your dress’ skirt, and he smirked up at you with the loveliest sparkle in his eye.  “Really?” you breathed, and he nodded.

Even though your hands were still shaking you suddenly felt brave; maybe it was just the afterglow, but you grabbed him by the shirt and sat up to kiss him, colliding your lips with his.  He reciprocated instantly, putting his hands on your upper back that the strapless dress left bare.

The kiss was perfect—needy but not too fast, sweet but not too chaste, teasing but not too slow.  The guys in college couldn’t even kiss like this… you were wondering why you ever even tried with them—or, you would’ve been if that kiss left you capable of thinking about anything but him.  “Need you,” you whispered as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips, a hand holding your waist while he started to kiss your neck and jaw.  “Not here—your parents—”

“Don’t care,” you whimpered, “I’m so—fuck, Cillian, please—”

“You already came,” he noticed with a small laugh, “didn’t that take the edge off?”

“Not enough,” you whined, getting impatient and running a hand down over his shirt and down to his pants—and you smiled proudly as you felt the hardening bulge beneath.  He choked a little when you touched him there, holding you tighter.  “You want me too,” you noticed.

“Of course I do, but—” he breathed, then stopped himself as he tossed you back on the bed; you giggled as he crawled up over you, pinning you down.  “But we can’t… your parents would have my head on a platter—once they’re done serving crawfish etouffee off of it downstairs.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on telling my parents,” you smirked.  “Were you?”

“No,” he agreed, kissing your neck again as you hummed happily.  “But if they found out—”

“So?  They wouldn’t like if they found out about what just happened, either—and they won’t.”

“But this is different,” he insisted.

“How?”

“Because this…”

He trailed off, kissing down your neck and over your shoulder, until a hand reached up to pull your dress down and expose your chest.

“Shit,” he sighed at the sight of it, and you smiled up at him.

“You were saying?” you teased.

“Right, erm,” he swallowed, “this is different because—because if we do this, you’re gonna be my girl.  Not just a misguided one-time fuck because you were turned on after screwing yourself with your dildo while I watched.”

You felt a little out of breath but nodded up at him.  “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” he repeated, looking a little shocked.  “I tell you that you have to be mine and you just say okay?”

“What was I supposed to say, yes sir?” you joked.

“I just mean—shit, if I knew it would be this easy, I would’ve said something sooner,” he chuckled.  “But I’m, er, not complaining about the yes sir thing either…”

He sat up and started to unbutton his pants, making you wiggle a bit on the bed impatiently.  Even though you’d just gotten filled by your big toy, you felt needier than ever for something inside you—something real. 

Your throat caught when he took it out— it was pale and veiny just like the rest of him; long, uncut, a bead of precum starting to leak from the slit… it was beautiful, honestly.  The artificial fleshy hue of the silicone could never compete.

“Big enough for you?” he asked with a smirk, but you had to swallow before you answered because your mouth was watering.

“Yeah,” you panted, “plenty.”

He kissed you again, laying more of his weight on top of you; your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close as he pressed you down into your bed.

One hand found your wrist and held it back above your head, while the other kept a tight wrap around his cock so he could guide it to your waiting entrance.  When he pushed inside, you both sighed with relief like you’d been longing for this for ages—perhaps because both of you had, in your own ways.  “Fuck,” you breathed, “Cillian…”

He whispered your name back to you, heavy and desperate and right by your ear, and you absolutely knew you were his, just like he said.  He only stilled for a moment when he was all the way inside, already starting to rock back and forth—but he was sort of tender about it, watching you move under him as he fucked you.  “So pretty,” he praised quietly, kissing you again, even harder than before.  You both moaned into the kiss, and a warm, rough hand settled on your thigh under your dress.

Soon, the pleasure was too much to even focus on kissing, and your mouth just fell wide open in front of his as needy moans passed through it.  He stayed close, though, watching your face go slack with ecstasy.  The previous orgasm had left you sticky and sensitive inside, still totally dripping for him, everything in you begging for more.  “Oh my god,” you sighed, eyes rolling back, your composure completely slipping already.  He made you feel so good so easily—and fuck, the way he was looking at you, it was just too much to bear.

“Mm,” he hummed proudly, latching his lips onto your neck again until your fingers tangled in his hair.  He moved down and caught a nipple in his mouth, making you whimper as he suckled at it gently. 

“Fuck,” you whined, nearly pulling him along by the hair when he moved to the other one; you couldn’t stop clenching inside, squeezing him until he groaned against your skin. 

“Won’t last if you keep doing that,” he warned you softly. 

“What if I don’t want you to?” you teased, and he growled a little between his teeth, sitting up to look down at you.  He fucked you harder, but put a hand on top of your head and pet your hair for a moment, looking at you like you hung the moon; how could he be so dirty then so adorable within the same split-second?!

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he decided, speaking softly, “how about that?  What do you want me to do?”

That was a little too much power to give you, at least in your opinion, but you grinned as you considered it.  “Then I want you to come way too quick,” you decided, “like all those annoying college boys—because you just can’t help yourself.”

He laughed a little, though he stopped to bite his lip as he fucked you even harder—and faster, too.  “Okay,” he breathed, “don’t know why you want that, but—fuck— it won’t be very difficult after that little show you gave me.  You look so pretty when you come…”

“Just keep going and you can see it again,” you promised, holding onto him tighter as he pressed into you and really let you have it—not really rough or anything, you couldn’t risk making any more noise than you were, but still aggressive and passionate and desperate.

He kissed your neck again, burying his face in your shoulder and finding the spot that made you gasp out his name suddenly; your fingers clutched at fistfuls of his undershirt, and your legs began to shake where they were hooked around his hips and half-pushed-down pants.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the pleasure hitting you again—but it was better than with the toy, it was stronger, and it just kept going because he kept going.  When your head fell back onto the mattress with a sigh, he realized that he’d made you come.

“Wait, fuck, I wasn’t looking,” he rushed as he popped his head up from the crook of your neck, “do it again.”

You laughed breathlessly and pushed against his shoulder a bit; “Shut up, I can’t do it on command.”

“You did it the last two times I told you to,” he reminded you, and that just made you feel even more deliciously dizzy. 

Yes, you were definitely his girl now—totally addicted to him.  You’d never felt like this with somebody—not just physically, but the trust and the laughter and the comfort of it all.  This wasn’t a too-empty dorm room that still smelled like fresh paint, it wasn’t a mattress with no sheets in an apartment with 5 roommates nearby, it wasn’t a guy you vaguely knew from a two-hundred-student class or someone you saw on a dating app and talked with for an afternoon before meeting for ‘coffee’ (it was never just coffee).  This was Mr. Murphy—and that should’ve made it weirder, but somehow, it just made it make more sense.

“So, if I tell you to come again,” he spoke lowly by your ear, a new authority to his tone, “you should come.”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say: “Yes, sir,” you breathed, hugging him close to you and pressing your face against his shoulder.

Of course, it wasn’t quite instantaneous, but just another minute of him giving you those deep, controlled thrusts right into your favorite spot sent you over the edge easily—and this time, he gently guided your face out of its hiding spot and looked at you, watched your pleasure overtake you, tenderly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.  “Good girl,” he praised softly, kissing you again just as the last of it drained from you; you were so numb that you barely heard him whisper something to you—it took you a few seconds to process it.

“I’m gonna come,” he’d whispered to you, “fuck, you’re so fucking warm…”

“Come inside,” you instructed, and for all the concern he tried to perform for you after you said that, his moan was undeniable, as was the way he started to move faster.

“Fuck, really?” he nearly whined.  “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, panting.

“You’re on—”

“Yes, please, just come inside me,” you begged, and he finally stopped protesting and pressed himself as deep into you as he could—you could feel the way his cock flexed, and it made your exhausted walls dig up just enough energy to flex back.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, holding onto you tightly.

You hummed a little at the feeling, turning your face towards his, hoping to see what he looked like in this moment—but he pulled you into another kiss before you could get a good look.  Even this kiss was different from the others—a little slower, a little more tired in a wonderful, dreamy way.  He was breathing heavy against you, and eventually he found the energy to push himself up with his arms on either side of your head, and you smiled up at him.  He looked really fucking good like this: his face a bit flushed, which seemed to show his freckles and fine lines even more (which you adored); his hair falling down, a little wavier from the slight sweat he’d worked up; his lips swollen and slick from the kisses; and those eyes, they looked as beautiful as always, but they made you feel beautiful, too.

“Is taking this one out gonna hurt, too?” he asked you with a smirk.

“Probably a little,” you shrugged.

“For both of us,” he agreed, “I’m so fucking sensitive now… you really do have me acting like a desperate college boy—but you know, it’s been a while, so…”

“Right, sure—good excuse,” you joked, but you didn’t mind any of it either way.

He did it a little quicker, pulling back as he took a sharp breath in, and you giggled softly.

“Fuck, I can feel it, like… leaking out,” you admitted, biting your lip at the sick satisfaction of the warm gush.

“I think I need to see that,” he said, sitting up and picking your legs up from under the knee to look at you.  This was apparently a habit of his—and you were starting to get used to it already.

“How’s it look?” you asked, wondering if he’d finally stretched you out after that.

He just stared at it for a moment longer, running his tongue over his teeth, before finally looking back at you and saying with a smile: “Looks like you need the Tide pen more than I do.”

[shotmrmiller]

simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.

gambling's illegal, you know.

thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.

a veterinarian.

good thing we're all dogs here, then.

he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.

seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.

what, did they guy like steal them or something?

no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.

incredible. (that's insane.)

he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.

lemme take ya out, love—

don't call me that.

and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—

stop talking, simon.

and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.

a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)

with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."

he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"

always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"

the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.

there's never any rest for the wicked.

"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"

the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.

"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."

you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"

his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."

he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"

"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.

"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.

the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.

"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.

black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"

simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."

you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."

he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"

his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."

johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.

pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."

you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"

he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"

"stop talking, simon."

johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.

--

this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.

simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.

even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.

"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.

pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.

simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.

heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.

he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.

"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.

johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."

he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.

oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.

"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.

simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"

he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."

you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.

"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.

"shit, let me go get my medbag."

he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."

a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.

"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.

"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."

you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.

[uofcosmos]

mark bf hcs

sfw

- type to say "babe this one's for you" and miss

- says dude but romantically

- thinks you're his best friend, his gf, his bbg, his everything

- makes you pinky promise him and takes that shit to heart

- thinks you're the funniest person alive

- is always touching you in some form, especially in front of other people

- the type to embarrass you in public and think it's really funny

- sends you every tiktok he sees that he thinks you would even vaguely like

- main form of physical affection: his arm around your shoulder with his arm hanging off of your shoulder and he expects you to hold his hand

- extremely clingy when he's drunk (canonically a lightweight) and if he's out without you he's texting you the entire night

- if you leave the room to get something rq, he just stares at the door until you come back

- biggest yes-man in the world

- if you asked for his opinion on choosing between outfits he would be so stressed cause "babe you look too good in both of them :/"

- if you showed him your eyelash curler and fake lashes he would physically flinch and be so so concerned

- asks you to use them on him so he can experience "the same pain"

- matching social media pfps

- you would catch him thanking god that you're his girl

- likes writing music with you in his lap (says he needs his muse with him all the time)

- starts fantasizing about a future with you on the second date

- go to cuddling: he's on his back and you're on your side using his arm as a pillow

- but he moves around too much in his sleep so you never wake up like that

- HES the rapper gf 

- spontaneously starts beatboxing and rapping about how hot you are and sometimes goes “dude wait… this one’s kinda good i need to write this one down”

- backhugs all the time and cages his arms around you esp when you’re talking to someone else so that he can get your attention 

- paints your nails for you with the utmost concentration (his tongues sticking out and everything) but it’s still messy asf 

- gets flustered when you make sex jokes

nsfw under the cut !! mdni

- also backhugs and starts kissing your neck when he’s horny (it’s his signature move)

- has a sex playlist that consists of solely the weeknd and chase atlantic and plays it religiously when you're fucking

- pleasure dom - gets off on how well you're getting off

- esp the first few times he'd be super stressed about how good he is at giving you head

- when you try to give head the first time he panics and keeps saying you don't have to and asking if you're sure

- finishes in 25 seconds cause he says you just feel too good

- tries to dirty talk once but he starts mumbling it and gives up (never does it again)

- he has such a tiny waist, he's super into it when you grab his waist or back when he's on top of you

- loves it when you put his arms around his neck

- he's really into putting you in odd positions, loves it when your legs are around his waist/shoulders

- mating press

- whiner over groaner

- really into riding, especially when he doesn't have to do too much of the work (he's a busy guy)

- if you came out of the shower and dropped your towel in front of him to walk to the bedroom he's tripping over himself to follow you

- very obvious afterglow, everyone can tell when he's just fucked

- makes really distinct faces when he's fucking

- would try to convince you to let him record your moans to use in the back of his songs (he's half-joking)

- trails kisses down you and is super into eye contact when he does it too

- always needs to see your face when you're fucking

- starts begging way too early when you even think about edging him

- loves when there’s visible scratches on his back so that it’s just a little secret between the two of you 

- every time he tries to edge you and you start whining or getting a little upset he gives in super easily cause he just loves you too much 

- carries you to the shower to clean the both of you off but he never tries anything in there, it's only about you

[sanspuppet]

dom!hwa with his low voice whispering dirty words into your ear while pleasuring you during a long night… (yes i’m down bad ever since i heard his rap in matz😵‍💫)

W/T: fingering, pet names (pretty, darling), unprotected sex (don’t)

A/O: happy to see im not the only one down for him so bad lately, wtf??? he’s so fucking gorgeous in this comeback. ALSO I LOST HALF OF THE WORK because of a glitch and i was annoyed as fuck, but i tried to write it all again, hope you like it anon! thanks for the request :3

• not proofread cause here’s late and im too tired to function properly

“Come on baby, i know you can take more than this.” Seonghwa’s laying on your body, lips near your ear as his hand’s playing with your clit. It’s been a long hour since you’re a whimpering mess, while your boyfriend’s trying to pleasure you. That’s right, he’s trying. You haven’t cum yet, and it’s driving you crazy, feeling Seonghwa’s fingers diving into your pussy but still haven’t creamed around them. “Why the fuck aren’t you cumming?” he whispers at you, a slight tone of frustration and disbelief in his voice. He’s surely more frustrated than you, you can tell it because he starts uncontrollably to exasperate. “Why? Want me to add another finger? Four fingers??”

“Should i eat you out?” “Aren’t my fingers enough for you?” you can’t deny that his whingy voice is incredibly hot, reminds you of his groans he emits while he uses to fuck you dumb. He buries again three fingers inside your pussy, sliding in and out of you faster than he did before. The sound of his palm slamming against your clit is booming inside your head. Hwa squeezes his eyes as he feels his arm burning from how quickly he’s finger fucking you, and his waist hurting as you’re gripping at it harshly, your fingertips diving into his skin. He sticks his tongue out when he feels your walls getting wetter, sighing proudly. “Is this what you want? Want me to fuck you harder?” you moan desperately, arching your back as he pulls out, your folds clenching around nothing but the air. “Keep talking” is the only thing you can articulate. “Huh?” Seonghwa rubs his index finger against your inner walls, playing with your wetness. “Is it because of my voice?” he slides out, licking joyfully your arousal off of his finger. “Yeah, fuck-“ you murmur. He intentionally groans lowly at your ear, secretly smirking as he replies you: “Didn’t know it” you bite your lower lip, your mind getting blurry from the way your body reacts to his voice. “Fuck, you always taste so good, pretty.” He leans in for a deep kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You can’t even know how fucking hard i am” You can feel his gaze moving down your body. “Wanna ruin your pussy with my own dick.” whimpers keep leaving your mouth, wanting to feel him inside you more than anything else. “Wanna fuck you so hard, that i won’t need to stretch out your pussy before fucking you.” He gets up, and immediately positions himself between your legs. “Gonna make you cum so quickly, pretty.” his cock pops out as he drags his pants down, without even waiting a second he pulls his length inside your wet cunt, another groan escaping his mouth as he feels the warmth of your pussy embracing his dick. “Fuck, so tight.” he murmurs. You moan loudly, clenching helplessly around him. “Yeah, shit. Keep doing it darling.” Seonghwa holds your legs when he starts to slide in and out of you. He throws his head back as he tries to concentrate on the feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock without any problems.

“Ready? Imma fuck you senseless tonight.”

[paperultra]

space cadet.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 831 words Warnings: None

reverie (noun): a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream

You imagine the thoughts in your head as a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea: dense, beautiful, brimming with life and all too easy to get lost in.

They’ve caused you trouble in the past. Countless rapped knuckles, letters sent home to your parents, walking into trees on the way home from school. But how could you resist? Empires rose and fell over the course of an hour inside your mind, mighty beasts swore their allegiance to you and the four seas were yours to explore. The childhood you had in the real world was so dull and lonely in comparison.

When you ran off and joined the Straw Hats, you finally had the excitement you had so craved. And yet, even now, your mind still wanders.

“If you swab the deck any more, we won’t have any left, sweetheart.”

Only a select few can bring you back.

You blink rapidly, the clouds dissipating as you stop scrubbing and look up. Sanji’s already smiling when you meet his gaze.

He lifts his hands; one offers a plate of shortbread cookies, the other a glass of milk.

“I’m going to guess that you haven’t had a break in a while,” he says. “Am I right?”

A break? Sending him a perplexed frown, you lean on the handle of your scrub brush and glance over your shoulder.

The side on which you had started winks back at you from afar, wood gleaming under the afternoon sun.

Oh.

“I … I guess so,” you reply slowly, turning back to him. It’s only then that you register the saltwater washing over your feet and the ache in your muscles. “I didn’t even realize …”

He shakes his head and chuckles, leading you to some nearby crates to sit down. “Too caught up in your stories again? I’m almost jealous that they get to spend so much time with you.”

“I don’t mean to make you worry.”

“Loving someone means worrying about them from time to time.”

He winks, and you smile, flustered.

“I see,” you say quietly. “Then thank you for worrying, Sanji.”

“Of course.” He hands you the glass of milk, then picks up a cookie and taps it against your lips. “Now, this is my best batch of sablés. You have no idea how hard it was to keep Luffy from eating them all in the kitchen.”

“I have some idea,” you drawl amusedly, taking a bite.

The cookie breaks with a gentle snap. It crumbles delightfully in your mouth, sugar and butter dancing on your tongue. A pleased hum rumbles in your throat before you wash it down with a gulp of cold milk.

“What do you think?”

“I think I might eat the whole plate right now,” you say, taking the other half of the cookie.

He grins. “So you like them.”

“They’re delicious.” Picking up another one, you hold it in front of his face. “Here.”

Sanji’s gaze remains locked with yours as he leans forward to take a bite of the cookie, his lips brushing your fingertips in an impromptu kiss before he pulls away. He chews thoughtfully. The action should not look as good as it does.

“My best batch, as I’ve said,” he tells you once he swallows. “But I’ve tasted sweeter.”

You tilt your head. “Where?”

His mouth curls into a smirk, and he places his fingers under your chin to bring your face closer to his. Your noses touch and you can feel his answer against your lips as he murmurs, “Right here.”

The rest of the crew may also have the pleasure of eating Sanji’s food, but they do not share your privilege of knowing just how talented he is at kissing.

He sets down the plate and lifts his hand to cup your jaw, meeting your lips and letting out a soft sigh before pressing his lips more fervently against yours. You can taste the smoke on his tongue, a constant underneath the warm sweetness of sugar and the saltiness of butter. Your eyes flutter closed, and you reach up to cradle the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly. The groan he lets out sends tingles down to the tips of your toes.

“Sweetheart,” he pants, and the longing in his voice would’ve made your knees buckle if you were standing, “I won’t be able to stop if you keep doing that.”

You put your glass of milk down so you can bury both hands in his golden hair. Your forehead touches his. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Maybe it is,” he mutters.

You bring him back in for another searing kiss that Sanji returns just as eagerly.

Yes, you value your time alone with your thoughts. They are a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea, beautiful, countless, and wild.

But as easy as it is to get lost in your thoughts, it is infinitely easier to get lost in him.

[peterman-spideyparker]

Drunk on You (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Court, aka @chvoswxtch, is a talented genius amazing superstar talent whose fic "ours." has consumed my mind all week and has inspired me. I hope I've done you proud, and I hope you like it! :)

Summary: Yours and Matt's relationship is still relatively new, but it's different in every conceivable way, and it's amazing. His plans for a nice romantic night in, however, get thrown for a loop before you arrive, and all he can think of is you.

Warnings: Fluff, Foggy and Karen being Foggy and Karen, shameless smut (talk of birth control and side effects, f!receiving oral, fingering, m!receiving oral, protected p in v sex, failed attempt at bondage, dirty talk, praise), swearing, these guys are basically soulmates, okay, they're in love and have thought about a future together and there's a whole detailed world for them in my head

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Karen Page

Word Count: 3,586

Matt’s hands slide over his watch face for the time. “Do you guys think you can handle things here for the rest of the day?” he asks his friends.

“I think we can handle it,” Foggy hums, taking in the quiet office space around them. “You have a date with that girl, don’t you? Or is it a different one?”

“Nope, it should be the same girl,” Karen says. “It’s still within the time frame.”

Matt furrows his brows as he turns toward his friends. “Time frame?”

“Do we really need to go over this again, Mr. Serial Dater?” Foggy sighs. “How many girls did you see last year alone?”

“I don’t—.”

“Ten,” Karen supplements. “I mean, technically, it was nine because you dated the same girl twice, but they all fizzled out just as soon as they started. None of them lasted over two months.”

“And that’s not counting hookups we don’t know about. If my math is right, we’re almost at the two month mark in—.” Foggy turns to look at the calendar hanging on the wall to confirm. “—about a half of a week.”

“Thank you for the countdown, Father Time, but I don’t see that happening with her. She’s different.”

“Do we at least get her name? Since she’s so different than the others, that is,” Karen tries hopefully, and Matt can tell she’s eagerly biting her lip.

“(Y/N),” he concedes. “Her name is (Y/N). (Y/N/N).”

“Ooh, full name and a nickname. Are you treating (Y/N) to a fancy night out?” Foggy asks.

“Nope,” Matt grins, sliding on his jacket.

“Oh?” Karen hums. “Finally going to bring her to Josie’s?”

“So you guys can just happen to stroll in? No,” Matt continues to smile. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that’s where we met.”

“So, no fancy restaurant, no Josie’s . . .”

“I’m cooking for her at my place tonight. Happy now?”

Foggy and Karen ooh at him like a bunch of fifth graders.

“Well, here’s hoping she’s a heavy sleeper in case you hear a bank robbery across town and need to suit up.”

“Well, she knows.”

He can tell the way that they look at him, absolutely stunned. “Knows?” Karen repeats.

Matt puts his fingers up by his head to mimic his devil horns.

“EXCUSE ME?” Foggy shouts.

“It’s a long story, guys, and I have a dinner to prepare.”

“Let us know when the wedding is!” Foggy shouts as Matt leaves the office. “Knows . . . She knows! . . .”

Matt finishes plating the food before lighting the candles on the table, blowing out the match as he freezes in his tracks. His senses are good—he can always tell when you’re near, even though you haven’t been seeing one another long. But this time, even though you’re about a block away, it feels like you’re so much closer. Your scent is much stronger than usual. It’s not perfume, shampoo, or detergent clinging to your dress—it’s you. Matt can practically taste you on his tongue when he lets out a deep breath through his mouth, and it drives him wild. His thoughts are fuzzy, and all he can think of is how he wants his hands on you, dragging over every dip and curve of your body right until he’s between—.

Matt practically jumps out of his skin when you rap at his door. With one more deep breath and a quick adjustment to his pants, he makes his way to the door, swinging it open and greeting you with a warm smile. As soon as the door is even open a crack, you drown his senses. He feels almost drunk, and he just wants you.

“Hi,” he smiles, leaning in for a kiss. You meet him halfway, pressing your front flush against his, resting a gentle hand on his waist. He pulls you in even further, desperately trying to deepen the kiss. You smile and giggle into the embrace before you lean back and look up at him.

“Hello to you, too,” you smile. “It smells really good in here, and you look like quite the chef with your sleeves all rolled up and a towel over your shoulder.”

“You like the look, hm?” he teases, closing the door close and kissing your neck some more as he walks you into the loft.

“I do. I like it so much, I almost dropped the bottle of wine I brought, especially if you keep kissing that spot.”

He pulls back and kisses the top of your head. “Well, I’m glad you’ve both survived this far.” Matt, on the other hand, is barely holding on. Every second that you’ve been here—the whole 90 of them—he’s had to restrain himself from jumping on you the way he so desperately wants.

“How about we sit first?” Matt hums, giving your arm a squeeze.

“You’ve plated everything. I’d hate for the food to get cold. This looks lovely.” You lean over, kissing his cheek. As your lips leave his skin, he turns into you, kissing you deeply before dragging his embraces down your neck and up to the sweet spot behind your ear, humming in delight as he takes you in and kisses your skin. You let out a soft moan, your knees buckling slightly as you lean into him and hold onto his body.

“‘m pretty sure that this is supposed to happen after dinner,” you swallow, your fingers desperately holding onto his arms.

“Dinner can wait. You smell too good,” he murmurs into your skin, taking the wine from your hand and putting it on the island.

“I—!”

You suck in a breath in surprise when his hands travel low and squeeze at your hips.

“You smell good,” he repeats, his voice dipping low. “Better than dinner—better than it tastes.”

Your hands have a mind of their own, moving up his arms, letting your fingers rake through his hair.

“Matt . . .” you breathe. He can sense how your heart races as you hold him close. 

“I can stop if you want to,” he hums, dragging his kisses down along your collarbone. “But I really don’t want to angel.”

You let out a sigh that goes straight to his cock. “I-I don’t have anything,” you tremble, and Matt notices a slight edge of something else in your voice. You sound a little nervous, but it’s not like the two of you haven’t had sex before. There’s been a few times where you’ve done just this—throw your date plans out the window to just spend the night exploring one another’s bodies over and over until you’re both so worn you turn into a tangled mess of limbs in bedsheets. And then it clicks for him. Your smell being extra strong, your elevated temperature, your racing heart, and now the slight nervous tremble in your voice. You’ve been together for two months, and he’s been with you around the time of your period, and even during your period, but as he wracks his brain to work on timelines, he’s positive there’s only one solution.

You’re ovulating.

And you know it.

Matt pulls back slowly, his hands still on your hips as you face him. He desperately works to find your eyes, even though he knows he’ll never be able to, not in the way he wants. 

“And you’re . . . you’re not on . . .?” He doesn’t want to finish the sentence—it makes him feel slimy asking that, but he wants to hear you say it rather than conclude based on assumption, even if that assumption is rooted in everything your body is telling him.

“I-I’m not,” you confirm. “The side effects and stories I’ve heard from friends . . .” You shrug. “It didn’t seem worth it. As contraception or a way to help with periods.” He senses another shift in you, but this one is different. You’re embarrassed, ashamed even. 

“Hey,” Matt says softly, kissing you tenderly. “It’s your body. You need to do what’s best for it.”

You nuzzle into his touch, and he lets out a little hum. “I just hate to have killed the mood. Especially since I smell so irresistible, apparently. And those kisses were pretty damn nice.”

Matt can hear how you smile while you speak when an idea comes to his mind.

“What’s that face?” you smirk, holding onto him adoringly.

“We can still keep the mood going. I mean, I have condoms, but, if you don’t want to use them, I have another idea. All you have to do is sit down and look pretty for me.”

You eagerly bite your lip, making Matt chuckle. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips before leading you to his bedroom.

“Sit down for me, angel,” he hums. “And spread your legs nice and wide for me.”

With a smile, you do as he asks as he softly kisses up your thighs, moving back and forth between each leg until he’s the apex, pressing a large open-mouthed kiss to your covered core. You take in a sharp breath as he slowly kisses and licks at you. For just how badly Matt wants you, he’s surprised and impressed with the restraint he’s showing. You whimper and moan as he begins to set his pace, one of your hands moving to his head and tugging on his hair, urging him to get closer. Between your arousal and his mouth, your panties are absolutely soaked within minutes. 

“Hey,” you whine as he removes his mouth from you. “I was enjoying that.”

“I know,” he grins, sliding his hands up your legs until his thumbs hook around your panties and slide them down your legs before tossing them up behind you on the bed. “Those are mine, now.”

You chuckle, your laughs turning into a moan when he reattaches his lips to your dripping core. Your sounds are louder, more unrestrained now that his lips are on your dripping ones. The way you squirm against Matt’s face only eggs him on, the rotations of your hips are only helping drive your scent further into his nose, injecting pure you into his body. Wet sounds fill the room, even with his face as buried deep as it is, and he can sense the way you lean back more and more until you’re flat on your back on the mattress, still managing to pull at his hair while he eats you out. You’re done for as soon as he slips two fingers in you. You tremble with an intense orgasm as you cry out so hard, Matt can tell it hurts your lungs a little. You squeeze his head with your thighs, and Matt uses his free hand to grip onto your hip and hold you closer, bringing him on the verge of suffocation by pussy—which wouldn’t be the worst way to go, if he’s being honest.

Matt continues to lick and slurp up your juices, pushing you into overstimulation territory, your mews still music to his ears but with a tinge of discomfort, but not before you cum again and coat his face with your delicious release. Moving his lips off of your clit, he gently licks up your mess, pressing kisses all over your pelvis before lifting his head up above the skirt of your dress.

“Better than anything I could’ve cooked,” he grins as he proudly wears your slick on his face. “So good, I want to go back for seconds.”

“You gotta give me a second, tiger,” you breathily laugh, caressing the side of his face, and he desperately turns his head to kiss your palm. “Maybe while I recoop, you can get some condoms? Or at least put the dinner in the fridge so we don’t get poisoned when we get around to actually eating it.”

Matt smiles and pounces on you, caging your body beneath his before holding your face in his hands as he kisses you. You giggle and chase his lips happily, and Matt slips his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself even better. You squeal in delight as he presses you into the mattress, and he feels like a giddy teenager in love.

Shit. He loves you. 

He was pretty sure he did—from the moment he met you, he didn’t want to even think about dating anyone else. And call it the pheromones he’s undoubtedly drunk on right now, but he doesn’t see himself being with anyone but you for the rest of his life. 

“What’s on your mind, pretty boy?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair, and he can tell you’re looking at him as if he’s all the stars in the sky.

Yeah, he loves you.

“You,” he hums. “I got lucky, getting you in my life.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” This time, it’s your turn to pull him down for a sweet kiss, and Matt feels as if his heart might explode.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs against your lips. “Stay just like this.”

“Kay,” you hum.

Matt presses one more kiss to your lips before he scurries out of his room, blowing out the candles, putting the plates in the fridge, and grabbing a box of condoms from his bathroom. When he comes back into his room, he finds you in the same spot he let you, pure relaxation covering you from your head to your toes. 

“You’ve got the stuff,” you smirk, and Matt can’t help but do the same. 

“I do,” he hums as he walks back to you, sitting on the mattress, leaning you up to snuggle into his side. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight? Because trust me, as much as I want to do this with you right now, I can wait until a better time. I don’t mind sticking my head back down between your legs and spending the rest of the night there. I’ll be just as happy there.”

Your eyes flutter shut, leaning into his body and kissing him. “I’m sure. And trust me, if that’s what you eat pussy like when I’m ovulating, I can’t wait to feel how you fuck me. No way I’m waiting to experience that.”

The last part seems to slip out past your lips before you can realize it, and you both know what it implies. A small smile pulls at the corners of Matt’s lips, and he leans forward to kiss you again before you have a chance to feel embarrassed, resting his forehead on yours. That’s not a conversation for tonight, but he’s touched that you’ve even considered it. “Alright, if you’re sure,” he whispers. “But you need to open the package.”

“I will, but first . . .” You straddle his lap and push him down on the mattress. “I think I need to take care of that painful looking bulge in your pants.”

Matt licks his lips in anticipation, listening to how you work yourself over him. You lean over, kissing and sucking a little mark into his neck before you unknot his tie and unbutton his shirt. 

“Do you trust me, Matt?” you ask.

“Completely,” he smiles. 

Taking his tie, you gently move his hands up above his head and begin to knot his fabric around his wrists. 

“Is it too tight?” you ask, brushing hair out of his face as if you’re clearing his line of sight. 

“‘s perfect,” he assures. “So are you.”

He can sense how you blush before you lean down and kiss him, softly dragging embraces down his exposed skin until you get to his pants, undoing his belt and sliding it off, and taking care of his pants, sliding it off his hips, leaving him exposed. He’s painfully hard—he’s surprised he didn’t cum in his pants while he was up to his eyeballs in (Y/N). He sucks in a breath between his teeth when your hand wraps around him, giving him some gentle pumps before you lean down and start to use your mouth. You press feather-light kisses on the underside of his shaft, licking his frenulum and gently caressing his balls. You get the tip of him in your mouth, so warm and wet, he swallows hard. 

“Wait,” he begs. “‘m not gonna last if you keep going like that.”

You smirk as you bring your mouth down toward his base before you let your hot breath spread over him.

“We both know that this isn’t the first time you’ll be cumming tonight, Matty,” you hum. 

You lick along the vein in his shaft until you’re back at the tip, opening your mouth and going down on him. Matt cries out at the top of his lungs, his hips bucking up as he lets out his release. He breaks out of the satin restraint, his hands moving to the sides of your face, not to force you down, but just to have his hands on you. When you finish sucking him dry, you pull off, licking your lips before you swallow.

“I’m offended. You broke out of my knot,” you chuckle. 

“Sorry,” he says with a blissed, dopey smirk. 

“No, don’t apologize. It was hot. Like, really hot. Like, we’re going to have to do something like that in the future hot.”

“Are we now?”

“Mmm. Now, where’d you put that box of condoms?”

Leaning over, you grab the box and pull out the foil package, tearing it open while he gets up and takes off the rest of his clothes before you carefully slide on the latex.

“Sweetheart, I think you’re a little overdressed,” he hums as his hands slide up under your dress. 

“What’re you gonna do about it?” you grin. 

His hands grip the zipper, pulling it down the track before sliding it off of your body, his hands then deftly moving to remove your bra. 

“There we go,” he smiles before leaning in and taking one of your breasts into his mouth, letting himself get lost in the soft, supple flesh. You both roll around in the bed until you’re under him, Matt sliding into you.

“Aah!” you cry out, your fingers grabbing a bruising grip onto his shoulders. It gets stronger the further that he pushes into you. Even with two orgasms and plenty of your arousal dripping from between your legs, you’re still so tight.

“That’s it,” he hums. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart.”

“Fuck!” you cry out, throwing your head back as you scratch angry red lines down his back.

“A little more, angel, you can do it. You can do it . . . Good girl, just like that.”

You both let out a grunt when he bottoms out in you, taking a moment to adjust.

“Just say the word for me, and I’ll start moving.”

“I-I need you,” you say almost immediately. “Matt, please, start moving. D-Don’t hold back.”

He takes your face in his hands, kissing you deeply before he starts thrusting. He does as you ask, not starting slow like he has in your past sexual encounters. Your moans and cries are music to his ears, spurring him on to go even faster, making you cry out louder. 

“Matt!” you cry with a guttural moan. “Yes! You’re so deep!”

“Made f’me,” Matt growls as he throws your legs up over his shoulders and folding you in half. “Mine.”

“Yours! I’m yours!”

Matt slithers a hand up your body, mapping out your soft skin with his touch until his hand is around your neck, holding your jaw, fingers spread before giving it a light squeeze. He listens to how your body reacts immediately, your warm, wet, tight cunt squeezing his cock as a response as you moan and bite your lip.

Matt’s going to have fun with that fact.

“Are you ready to cum, sweetheart?” he coos as he slams into you so hard, he’s pretty sure that your cunt might be permanently stretched and remolded to match the shape of his cock. “Can you cum around my cock for me?”

“Yes,” you whimper, one of your hands dropping to his forearm, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop! Make me cum—make me cum hard! Just don’t stop!”

Matt lowers himself to kiss you deeply, your bodies a tangled, squished mess as he keeps pounding into you. You hold onto his face desperately, deepening the connection and the kiss until you open your mouth to let out an unbridled cry of pleasure. It hurts his ears, but what a sound to go deaf to. His hand slides from your neck, moving to higher up on your waist as he kisses you through your high, his sweaty forehead eventually falling to the crook of your neck as he experiences his own release.

The two of you are a panting, sweaty mess, tangled together and coming back to your senses while he softens inside of you. A few minutes pass, and he finally musters the energy to pull out of you, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash by his bed.

“If you’re gonna fuck me like that every time I ovulate,” you pant, kissing his cheek before resting your forehead on his temple. “I’m in for a real treat.”

Matt chuckles, enjoying the taste of your skin and how it mixes with your sweat. In that moment, everything is calm, quiet . . . everything makes sense. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he hums, his hands roaming your body. “We’re not done yet.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​ @blackhawkfanatic

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia

[l4long-winded]

i really wanna see carmy groveling 🤭 might be fun, after a fight or something

how cruel... i like the way you think! i tried to write him as close to his character here while still adding in that groveling element. i hope i've done it justice!

o.s. a guilty heart's plea(s)

summary: carmen's said some unforgivable things to you. and yet here he is at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: as much as i pride myself in my ability to write scenes and descriptions, i still struggle a lot with making dialogue sound good while flowing with my writing. i think this has been good practice for me to really get inside this character's head and see what he could possibly say with a prompt as heavy as this. this took me about a week to write so i really hope i gave it the time and energy it deserves. thank you all for reading and feedback is always welcomed, appreciated, and encouraged!

warnings: cursing, angst, established relationship, implied smut, reminiscing, they're on a break, inner monologue, carmen's pov, rambling, self-loathing, carmen pleading, inability to express feelings, apologies, missed calls, insecurities, acts of service, sydney sweeney mention, smoking, somewhat happy ending (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 2,132

( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )

Carmen knocks on the screen door ahead of him. It’s his seventh time doing so, the clattering and aggravating sound of metal reverberating against the second door behind that one. Dust coats his knuckles because it transferred from the opaque metal, a small spot shinier than the rest of the door because he continued to rap at the same area. Maybe he should clean it for you later if you actually decide to speak to him again. His hands fidget at his sides, clenching and releasing, staring blankly as he thinks of all the times he’s come over. For his first initial visit, you unlocked the door, gave him a cautious glance over your shoulder, and then led him inside. During the second time, you held his hand as you stepped past the threshold, squeezing it in reassurance.

On Valentine’s Day, when he surprised you with an assortment of flowers from the farmer’s market, you greeted him with a deep kiss, tugging the collar of his shirt to pull him inside of your house. He didn’t show any resistance, blindly following your lead, dropping off the flowers onto your couch as your hands lifted his shirt, and your mouths departed from one another for a smidgen of a second before they found each other again, more impassioned and desperate.

“Open the door, come on, I’m sorry,” he says, more so to himself than your screen door. He’s been close to shouting at it this entire time, making his pleas, encouraging you to open it for him so he can have a discussion with you face-to-face.

He’s called you plenty of times. Each one has either rang for as long as the line allowed or went straight to voicemail. Two weeks have passed without seeing each other. Two long weeks of unanswered text messages he’s sent day by day and missed calls clogging up your phone’s notifications. You’re ignoring him and he knows he deserves it, guilty as the hand in the cookie jar, but he still can’t shake this overwhelming feeling inside of him to see you again. The albums dedicated to you in his gallery are not enough to satisfy this. His fingers twitch every time he swipes at an image and relives the sensation of running them along your skin. That’s when his nose begins to miss the scent that clings to your neck. That’s when his ears long to hear the lilt of your laughter and that particular way you say his name. That’s when his tongue rejects the nicotine and implores him for a taste of your chapstick, or the bubblegum flavor lingering in your mouth greeting him after a shift at work, or the giggles you fall into as he chases the subtle pecks you graciously feed him.

The door behind the one he’s attending to opens. There you are. He can’t see you since the sun is positioned right behind him, warming his back as it sets into the background. At most, he makes out the silhouette of your frame, recognizable to his eyes as he’s acquainted himself with every curve and slope of you, but he’s aware you fully see him on the other side. He wonders if you’re able to tell how little he’s slept since a look in the mirror this morning painted the picture of an exhausted man through dark rings under his eyes and a slackened jaw.

“What do you want, Carmen?” You ask. Not Carmy. Not Bear. Not any of that cheesy shit Richie pokes fun at him for. Carmen. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved to hear the sound of your voice or offended he’s lost every sweet moniker you’ve bestowed upon him.

“To talk,” he explains quickly, “I just want to talk. If you want me to fuck off, then,” he inhales sharply. It would kill him if you told him to fuck off, but he’s also not about to make you uncomfortable for an issue he caused. “Then I’ll fuck off.”

Unlike Carmen, you’re not rapidly firing away sentences in response to him. You’re quiet for a beat and it’s rather agonizing for him because even though there’s only a door separating the two of you, you’re still so far out of his reach. He’s tempted to cup his hands over his eyes and look past the individual holes of the door to check if you’re still there.

“Go ahead,” you say, interrupting his thoughts and refuting his fear you’ve stalked back inside your living room.

“Talk.”

He gulps. He was hoping to at least do this without a barrier in the way, but he’s not about to fumble the one opportunity and chance you’ve given him after two weeks of nothing. He’d be a fool to.

“Fuck… I…” Well, this is off to a great start. He tries to think about the texts he’s sent. He had time to sit down and write out apologies and yet none of them are splurging onto his tongue to save him the awkward discomfort currently stirring in his stomach.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said,” Can you let me figure this shit out without breathing down my fucking neck ringing in his ears, haunting him like a phantom stuck on his shadow because it’s one of the last things he said to you before you took off and rightfully gave him the cold shoulder.

“I was stressed and frustrated and, and I wasn’t thinking. Those aren’t excuses for being shitty,” he shakes his head so hard that his hair untucks from his hat and grazes his eyelashes, “If anything, they make me more shitty because only assholes do that and that’s what I am. I’m a fucking asshole and and and and…” He’s rambling, losing the point of this. He’s got a talent for berating himself. He falls into it naturally if he’s not careful.

“And I fucked up. I really, really fucked up. I didn’t mean any of it. I never wanted to hurt you.” But you did. “I don’t know why I do that. I don’t know why I ruin shit, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but something is and you, you, you always… you’re always there and and and then you weren’t and…”

This is hard. He’s never been good at articulating his feelings. He wants nothing more than to just tell you how he’s fucked up and you’re one of the only people who doesn’t think he is, but after his true colors have splintered out of him and sliced at you as they have other people in his life he cares for, your perception’s possibly changed from that. He believes he’s confirmed every horrible thing he’s ever thought and said about himself and usually, he can handle that self-loathing and dissonance on his own, but consternation bubbles in his ribcage and sparks embers licking at the lining of his stomach at the very idea of you becoming desensitized to the version of himself you’ve fallen for. He wants to shove the curtains back into place, pretend you never stumbled upon the man behind them, and continue walking hand in hand with you in the reverie he knew wouldn’t last. But damn it. He wants it to last longer than this. It wasn’t enough time. He craves more of it, grasping for the seconds in his hands despite how much they’re attempting to evade him as the clock ticks and ticks. 

“Fucking fuck,” he bellows, “Man, fuck me, fucking fuck me.” Vulnerability is so fucking repulsive. Who the hell invented it? He can’t finish a keynote to save his life.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he settles on.

“I can’t fucking sleep, I can’t fucking eat, Richie keeps calling me a dumb shit like I’m not already thinking that. I-I-I need you. I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t, but I do. I don’t blame you for leaving and I don’t blame you for ghosting me, but please, I can’t fucking do this anymore. I know I’m being a selfish fuck, but I can’t shake what you make me feel and I won’t leave until you talk to me.”

He stares hard at the door. The sun’s lower in the sky, making it more difficult to see if you’re still standing there listening to what he has to say, as jumbled of a mess that it is. His hands leave his sides, anxiously pressing palms first into the metal like it’ll ground him. An urge presents itself to rip it off its hinges and see it for himself rather than wait for verification, but he manages to remain steady where he stands. It’s about the same experience he’s had over the past two weeks of texting and calling to no avail. You’re not saying anything. You’re not denying his insecurities, you’re not soothing his temper, you’re not reflecting it, and you’re not engaging like he’s envisioned time and time again. You’re eluding him. You’re slipping past his fingers like liquid as he desperately grasps.

“Please, please, please say something.” His forehead leans into the surface, eyes shutting tight. “Tell me I’m not shit, tell me you never want to see me again, please talk to me.”

Please forgive me, he swallows. Please forgive me and take me back.

“Just… please… I… I want to fix this. I want to make it up to you. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please don’t shut me out. I’ll make you something? Yeah? Your favorite? What about that place you wanted to go off Lake Shore? Or, or that movie you wanted to see with, uh, that Sweeney girl? What the fuck was it?” Carmen’s eyebrows knit together as he tries to remember the name. “We can go see it… we can go to dinner… I can make dinner. I can take time off work and we can travel somewhere, we can take a trip like you wanted, whatever—I want what you want. Please…? Hello?”

Carmen speaks your name a few times among his pleading. His forehead slowly detaches from the door, indents of the mesh left behind on his skin. He goes quiet to listen for any movement, but he can’t even hear your breathing like this. He can’t hear anything besides the wind picking up, blowing cold over the tips of his ears sticking out from his hat. He steps away from the door, a lump in his throat alongside all the affection he doesn’t know how to let out that he swallows with great difficulty. Instead of walking away from your house, he sits on the cement step leading up to the walkway. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t leave until you talked to him.

He camps outside your house. One hand fishes for his carton of Sapphires, plucking a cigarette from the box. He’s got about two left since he’s been chain-smoking to fill the void. Carmen greatly considers trying to make his plea again on his knees in front of the door if that’s what it’ll take as he lights the end away from his mouth. The pressure of the cement will be a motherfucker, but he’s concocting another game plan to gain your attention since he’s already here and the walk back to his apartment is too long for him to jump at it. If that doesn’t work, then he can leave and come back in the morning before work. He can afford to be slightly late as his normal is showing up early and Sydney and Tina know the prep work that needs to be done.

All his thoughts fade as he hears the door behind him creak. He glances back suddenly, catching it as it slowly swings open. He’s in the midst of standing to his feet and flicking his cigarette into a patch of dirt when you come into view. Your hair’s messy, a white tank top on your torso, and a pair of fleece pajama pants he knows are new. His hands yearn to become acquainted with them as he has your other bottoms. Carmen stares at how you’re hugging yourself, presumably because the cold air is filtering into your warm house. The goosebumps littered over your biceps and forearms confirm his theory.

He’s on you in an instant. His arms wrap firmly around your frame, sighing out as his stress undergoes the mitigation of your own arms embracing him back. Your hand finds his hair, incidentally causing his hat to fall off to the floor, but he doesn’t care. He’s far too busy stamping your temples, cheeks, jawline, and lips with kisses he has weeks of time to make up for.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles into your hairline, “so, so, so sorry. Missed you.”

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓♥️🌶 ┊”henny n’ coke, baby” + BKG ꒱

『♡』 18+ , healthy relationship, alcohol consumption, clubbing, grinding, twerking, friendly fun, making out w Mina, flirting, squirting, cum licking, cock sucking if u squint, finger sucking, light hair pulling, light choking, spitting in mouth, cum kisses, “good girl”, exhibitionism / voyeurism (if you squint), f!reader x katsuki bakugou

『♡』 was thinking about when my friend and I took turns spitting alcohol in one another’s mouth then kissed. Anyways this is a horny mess. Warning you now. IM a horny mess, fuck.

The club music is loud, you can hardly hear one another. It vibrates the floor and the tequila in your veins has you excited.

You start off with Kirishima, who whoops and hollers and catches your hips while you grind. You roll your hips in a circle, too tiny skirt coming up a little and flashing panties. Sweat beads on the back of your neck and you flip your hair to the side. Ignoring your massive hoop earrings getting stuck in your hair, you look back over your shoulder with a grin.

His hands are thick and large, where they lightly rest over the curve of your hips. He avoids touching too much. You thank him for that, but wish he’d be a little rougher.

Mina jumps in front of you and starts throwing it in a circle. Her ass presses into you and she bounces. Skimpy shorts show off pink ass cheeks and fishnets. She giggles loud enough you can hear it over the music. It’s hot, she’s hot, he’s hot. But you know what’s hotter? Katsuki.

And then you’re thirsty, horny, and on a mission. Everything seems amazing, the world feels like this is what life is about. One of those moments that makes you feel higher on life than just about anything else.

Mina takes over and Eijirou takes it upon himself to pull your skirt down enough to cover more of your ass. He gives a light tap to the fat there and gets close to your face, giving you a toothy smile.

He says something over the music and you don’t know what anything was. Except “good luck”.

Your beautiful, tall and strong boyfriend stands off to the side with Kaminari. They chat idly and you make your way to him, weaving through the crowds of people. Thank fuck you wore flat shoes and not heels today.

When you arrive he’s giving you a quick kiss, asking if you had fun, and you nod feverishly. Wordlessly you point to the drink in his hand and take a sip.

“Yuck! Wha’s this?” You whine, confused. Your features scrunch as if you’ve sucked on a lemon.

“Henny n’ coke baby.” Katsuki laughs and Kaminari raises his matching drink.

Katsuki looks edible- all tanned muscle and winks. You don’t blame all the women that have come up and attempted to dance with him. Comfortable black slacks and half unbuttoned, see through, Lacey top. You picked this for him, knew you wanted to see his body whenever you could. And the chain around his neck shines a little brighter against the club lights.

The song changes, less EDM and more so rap. You squeal, taking another sip of his drink and handing the rest to Kaminari.

Katsuki cocks a brow and Kaminari let’s out a laugh, knowing what’s coming. You grab at his wrist and leave a wet kiss to his lips. Throwing a wink to him, you stick your tongue out.

You push him toward an open chair, one of the few sitting in a corner and he falls back with a ‘oomph. He looks at you with wild, cherry eyes and Kaminari watches from the distance with a grin.

Katsuki’s on cloud nine, alcohol making him braver than he’s ever been and ridding him of his nerves. His cock stirs in his pants at the sight of you.

You plop your ass onto his crotch and grind, bouncing your hips up and down in rhythm. Something comes over you and you bounce on his lap like you’re riding his cock, making a kissy face toward Denki.

Katsuki throws his head back and grips on the fat of your hips, watching your mini skirt ride up and put your thong back on display. You turn to face him, rubbing his chest with your hands and rolling your body. Your knees are situated on either side of him, and you bounce your tits.

He wills himself not to fuck you in the club. Begs himself to show restraint, despite seeing the wet spot on your panties.

Your tongue slides over the seam of your lips, proving yourself back so that the back of your knees hangs over the chair. He watches you, steadying your excited movements with firm hands.

His cock presses into your ass and his eyes meet yours. Cherry eyes consume you, making you wild, and you lean back and flip off the chair.

First he panics, but when he sees your head pop back up and you smile, he laughs a little. He stands at that, bending you over and letting you twerk and grind against his cock in front of everyone. He nods to Denki, who heads over and hands him his drink swiftly.

The blond hunk you’ve got your ass pressed to takes a sip and gyrates his hips into yours. You snap back up and turn, shoving your tongue in his mouth. Your sparkly gloss smears onto the corners of his mouth and he licks into you.

When you pull back for breath, he uses a thumb to wipe some of it off your face and gives you a wink. Denki still stares, gobsmacked, cock growing hard in his pants at the sight before him.

Eijirou and Mina make their way over with another set of drinks and you take a nice, long swig. The pink haired girl grins and pulls you in for a kiss, earning a low whistle from Eijirou and a couple swears from the two blondes.

She tastes sweet, like vodka and orange juice, and her lips are plush. You make note to run off to the bathroom for a makeup touch up later. But that thought is shoved down when her hands reach around to snake up your skirt. She grips at the flesh there and leaves a firm smack. Her tongue is long and it explores, sending shivers down your spine and making your clit pulsate in your panties. Your hips kick and she grins into your mouth, pulling back with a string of spit. A choked noise leaves one of the men in the group.

“Can he spit my drink in my mouth?” She whispers, inches from your lips.

You nod, pulling away and sending him a wink. She practically bounces toward him and gets in front of him, back turned. The music vibrates your bones and soothes the ache in your tummy. Katsuki hands his drink to Eijirou and grabs hers out of her hand.

Eijirou groans out a “me next” and Denki a “me third “.

She does a little twerk on him and he grabs her by the throat. You watch as your boyfriend uses a large, rough hand to position her just right. Her mouth hangs open and she closes her pretty eyes. He brings her drink to his swollen lips, sucking through the straw.

Then he swishes it in his mouth and your pussy throbs at what he does next. He’s spitting it in her mouth, not letting her come up to breathe properly until she swallows. And god you have got to be next on the list.

Her eyes roll back and she licks her lips. You’re on your way over to Katsuki, excited, tipsy, and much too in love with that idea. God bless Mina, the kinky bitch.

The other two take their turns and it shows what they’re like in bed, too. Denki is sweet about it, takes his time, sends her off with a wink and a light tap to the jaw with his hand. And Kirishima? Fuck. He has Denki give him the drink, holding it up. His other arm holds her close to his chest and he hovers his mouth right over Hers and spits. Before she can protest, his thumb is in her mouth and he’s telling her to suck.

People whistle and holler, a group of girls make a moaning sound and one of them yells a “god when will that be me” over the music.

And you’re all sucking down glasses of water and pouring an electrolyte mix in to avoid hangover next. Only to go grab another drink, something that’ll leave you all just a little hornier and on edge.

Katsuki and you find yourselves desperately yanking clothes off at the end of the night. The Uber pulls off and you make sure Mina, Denki, and Eijirou got to their shared destination safe. And then something comes over Katsuki that you’ve never seen before.

It isn’t jealousy, not by a long shot. His cock is leaking precum when you pull it out and he’s gasping, pushing his tongue further into your mouth.

You quickly make it to the bed, still in your shirt and thong, and him in just the goddamned button up. And he’s got you bent over, pressed into the mattress, thong pulled to the side. and fucking you so hard you’re high.

“Yeah? You liked them watching you rub on my cock huh?” He gasps, face numb. A pink tongue licks over puffy lips and he leans forward to anchor his hand in your hair. It stings but he isn’t pulling, just gripping hard enough for you to know he’s got you.

His cock is so thick, filling you to the brim and then some, and you whine out agreements. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth and he brings his head closer to yours. His hips stop moving and you whimper, pushing yourself back on him desperately.

“You wanted to suck Eijirou, didn’t you baby?” Katsuki rasps, licking and sucking below your ear.

Your pussy squeezes and it gives him his answer. He drops his hand in your hair, bringing one around and under your panties to rub circles on your clit. The other, he brings up to spit on the tips of his middle and forefinger before he shoves them in your mouth. You keen, squeezing harder and sucking on his fingers.

“Look at this, such a good, good girl for me. Come on pretty, tell me what you want.” He mutters, willing himself to stay still. His fingers are removed from your mouth and you frantically start begging for him to move.

But he doesn’t, he continues rubbing lazy circles and his hand wraps around your throat. He squeezes lightly, just enough to make you dizzy and float. And then he stops, and does it again, and then he just holds it there. Let’s you know that he could if he wanted to.

“What do you say?” He demands, more than asks, and his lips tingle.

His throat is dry, tongue heavy, watching you try to fuck yourself on his cock. But you can’t, it won’t work the same without him doing it. And he knows that.

“Fuck- oh god fuck- please, please, please!”

Your fingers dig into the sheets and spit covers his hand. He removes his fingers from your pussy, where they originally rubbed, and he sucks the taste of you off of them and moan. He throws his head back and slams into you.

You shake, spongey spot being bullied by the head of his cock. Your thong is ruined, no double stretched out. Pussy juice slicks down your thighs and froths at the base of his cock. He pulls his hand off your throat, sitting back on his knees, where he spits where his cock meets your pussy. It’s dirty, and he watches you clench around him, sucking him in.

Your pussy squelches, spewing clear juice all over the bed and you praise him like he’s fucking god. Begging him not to stop, to stop, to keep going, harder. Faster. And then he rubs your clit back and forth, up and down, making the squirt spray everywhere.

Something in you snaps and your body goes taut and then limp, your eyes rolling back as you just lay there and take it. And he pulls out, flipping you over and crawling forward.

You watch in awe as your boyfriend, with a face burning peachy and coral tones, fucks into his fist over your face. You open your mouth and he sinks his cock in, just a little, and pulls out again. You reach a hand up, wrapping around the base. There you move, licking at the head of his cock to taste yourself and the precum off of it.

He cums a minute later, all over your pretty lips, where he promptly licks at. He suckles on your bottom lip and spits some of his cum back into your mouth. You greedily accept, swallowing it down with a giggle.

It takes a few moments for you both to collect yourself. And then you’re grabbing the bottle of water beside the bed and taking turns chugging. The Gatorade is next, before you head off to the bathroom. He licks his thumb and wipes some of the cum off of your face, sucking it off of his finger.

Then, you’re brushing your teeth and butt ass naked, showering sloppily. The clock on your nightstand reads 5:08 am and you sigh into his chest when you finally lay down for sleep. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Eijirou and Mina are going to love hearing these stories tomorrow.

[reysdriver]

Roleplay | E.M.

Day 1 of Kinktober: Roleplay — eddie x fem!reader smut

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - roleplay, piv sex, unprotected sex, blowjob, fingering, edging sort of, creampie, light begging

words: 1.2k

Eddie rapped twice against your bedroom door to get your attention while you put on the finishing touches on your costume. “Are you alright, sweetheart? Let me know when I can come in, okay?”

You exhaled lightly and spoke up so your boyfriend could hear you from the hall. “I’m ready, Eds.”

He opened the door slowly, and you bet it was because he wanted to build his own anticipation for the moment he saw you. And when he did get a look at you, he was stunned. His eyes moved from the way you braided the front two locks of your hair, to the way you did delicate, sparkly makeup, and to the long chiffon dress you wore that let him get a faint view of your lingerie underneath. 

When he had gotten home that night, you had told him you had a surprise for him—and you had implied it was sexual—but he never would have expected this. 

Even though you were sure he would be into it, his silence could have been an indicator for anything. “Eddie? Do you like it?”

“You’re— You’re her.” He responded.

You knew exactly what he meant. You had attempted to dress up as the fairy princess in Eddie’s new Dungeons and Dragons campaign—the character he based off of you—and you were so glad he recognized it. 

“Yeah.” You whispered, then repeated your previous question. “Do you like it?”

“I fucking love it.”

Eddie’s lust-ridden voice sent a chill up your spine and brought back your confidence.

“Yeah? Well, I was hoping you could be your character and I could reward you for saving me from the Arcane Brotherhood, would you like that?” 

“Baby, that’s some shit out of my fucking fantasies.”

“Good. You can just lay back and I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

“I don’t get a costume or anything like yours?” He asked, settling down on the bed. 

You got on the bed and started straddling him. “Well, the goal is kind of to have us both be naked soon, so…” You shrugged, then leaned down to kiss him. 

He kissed you back, then pulled away for a breath. Well, you thought it would be to take a breath. Instead, he kept talking. “I’m kind of digging the whole outfit though…”

You sighed exasperatedly. “Oh my god, Eddie. Do you want your reward for saving the fairy princess or not?”

He pulled you back down so you could kiss again. “Yes, absolutely. I’ll shut up now.”

You two were making out heavily, but you moved down to kiss Eddie’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone, and everywhere in between. Eddie tends to have wandering hands when you make out, but this time you had to stop him before they went too far down on you. 

When he looked at you with a slightly confused face, you had to explain to him why you did it. “This is an expression of my gratitude for coming to my rescue. I’m sure the High Forest will be so relieved to have their princess back. I want to do something to show how grateful I am.”

He looked like he finally got it. “So I should just lay back like a paladin weary from a tiresome journey to rescue the princess?”

“Exactly.” You said with a smirk. 

Then you scooted back a foot or so, just to sit beside Eddie’s legs so you could start undoing his belt and pulling down his pants enough to free his dick. 

You looked up at him and batted your eyelashes while stroking his hardening member, trying to put on an innocent yet sexy face. “Is this okay, handsome paladin?”

He was already breathing heavily, but trying to calm himself. “It’s great, princess.”

“Tell me if anything is less than perfect, okay? I want this to be the best gift I can give you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey. So far, I love it.”

His compliments just egged you on, but you tried to hide your smile so he wouldn’t get too cocky. You leaned down and fit as much of him inside your mouth as you could. You knew you were doing alright so far because you heard Eddie choke out a moan with every swipe of your tongue against his cock. 

You kept going, bobbing your head repeatedly, creating an amazing bedroom symphony when paired with his repeated moans. 

Because you knew Eddie better than anyone, you knew that him beginning to get tense was the sign you had been waiting for to tell you that he was close to cumming. 

Instead of continuing to suck him off, you let off of him, knowing exactly what it was doing to Eddie. 

Eddie looked at you with aching eyes. “Honey, I was so close—”

“I know, but I thought you’d rather finish in your favourite place.” You pulled his pants off completely, then went to remove your dress as well. 

“As much as I loved that dress, I’m so happy to see what’s underneath.”

You knew he would like it. In fact, you bought a set with a hole in the panties so you wouldn’t even have to take it off and Eddie could keep looking at it the whole time. 

“Yeah? I bought it from some fairies in an oak tree who said any charming hero like yourself would love it.”

“And I do.” Eddie said as you straddled him again. “I mean, I didn’t come rescue you for the reward but I have to admit it’s incredible.”

“Well, I trust you, but I can’t be sure I’ve given a sufficient reward just yet.”

You lined him up with your entrance and lowered yourself onto him slowly. Eddie let out a groan of your name and brought his hands to your hips. You both let out some whimpers—quieter than you would if you didn’t have such thin walls—and you moved your hips to ride him properly. 

You kept moving up and down while Eddie helped gently guide you. And even though you really wanted the night to be all about Eddie, you didn’t protest when he moved his hand to help move you along. 

“I’m so close.” You said breathily. 

He looked like he was holding back. “Me too, princess. I want to finish inside of you, right with you. That’d be the best part of this. Please, princess.”

“I’m right there, honey!” 

With the perfect way Eddie was moving his thick fingers, plus the feeling of him releasing inside of you, it was impossible to hold off your climax. 

You continued to ride him through both of your highs, and then you practically went limp on top of him. You kissed his jaw in the way Eddie always liked as a way to cool down, and he spoke again. 

“If I write more characters based on you, can we do this again?”

You let out a giggle. “I’ll give you one night for every character, Eds.”

[sluttywoozi]

Tongue Twister

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.1k

Tags: est. relationship, smut, fluff

Summary: Wonwoo has started practicing tongue twisters before bed. This benefits you greatly.

Warnings: oral f. rec., mention of being held down, wonu holds reader’s mouth open, mention of oral m. rec., not proofread

Reader Notes: has a vagina

“Betty Botter bought some butter but she said the butter’s bitter. If I put it in my batter, it will make my batter bitter but a bit of better butter will make my batter better. So ‘twas better Betty Botter bought a bit of better butter,” Wonwoo practices beneath you, his chest rumbling under your ear as he reads off the words. You’re tucked up against him, your head resting on his pec and your leg thrown over his. 

A few days ago, Wonwoo took up tongue twisters in an effort to improve his enunciation. He said it would help with his rapping and with his occasional bedtime stories, and that was all you needed to hear to get on board. Now, he reads through a couple every night before bed while you listen and try to keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 

That’s the only drawback of Wonwoo’s new hobby, the ideas it brings to mind. Because enunciation has everything to do with how well your tongue moves, and you can think of something that also has everything to do with how well your tongue moves, and Wonwoo is already incredible at it. 

Both of you have been working long hours and practically falling into bed in your work clothes at the end of the day. He hasn’t eaten you out or fucked you since before he started practicing, and it’s taking everything in you not to offer him another way of strengthening his tonguing skills. 

He sounds off the last word, turning his phone off and placing it on the nightstand before grabbing the book he’d been reading with you and adjusting his glasses as he starts. 

It’s not long before the depth and warmth of his voice and the vibrations of his chest under your cheek are lulling you to sleep. 

Your thoughts follow you into your dreams. They’re not vivid, just flashes of heat and breathy sighs and wet warmth between your thighs, and that’s exactly what you wake up to. Wonwoo is still asleep next to you, his chest rising and falling under your ear and his thigh warm in the space between yours. That must be what triggered the dream, the friction of his leg against you, though his tongue twisters are undoubtedly the true source. 

Wonwoo’s always been a light sleeper and it’s not uncommon for him to wake when you do, simply because his body knows you’re no longer sleeping. He stirs before you can pretend not to be awake, a low, raspy groan followed by the cutest squeak escaping him as he stretches beneath you. 

“Why’re you ‘wake, baby?” He mumbles into your hair, pressing a kiss to your crown and taking a surreptitious sniff before letting his head loll over to check the time. 

“Just a dream,” you respond, hoping he won’t question you further. Of course he does, the loving, caring bastard. 

“Bad?” He sounds concerned and you can’t lie to him, not when he’s so sweet and sleepy and gullible. 

“No, Woo, it was a good dream. You can go back to sleep, though, it’s okay,” you offer, starting to pull away so you can take care of yourself in the shower. 

“Nononononono,” he grasps at your shirt, pulling you back before you can get far, “Tell me.”

Fuck. 

“Please?” 

Well, shit, now you have to. 

“It’s the tongue twisters,” you moan in exasperation, covering your eyes and trying to curl away from him. 

“What do you mean?” He sounds so confused and so cute, and you just know his hair is all ruffled and his sleep shirt is rumpled and that he has to be squinting because he hasn’t reached for his glasses and-

Fuck, you love him so much. 

“Your tongue twisters, it’s… they- I just think they’d make you even better at something else, is all. Something you’re already way too good at.” 

A few seconds pass before it clicks for him, but when it does, he stiffens beneath you in more ways than one. His dick is half hard under your thigh in no time, his body squirming as he tries to adjust to the sudden arousal. You know you’ve caught him off guard but he’s adaptable, his grip tightening on you before he starts to move. 

“You been thinking about my tongue, baby?” He asks as he slides down your body and shoulders your thighs apart. You whine an affirmation, weak to him already, and push at your pajama shorts when his fingers graze the hem. 

He pulls them down, your underwear going with them, and groans deep in his chest when he sets blurry eyes on the mess of your cunt. He doesn’t waste any time, licking right into you and shoving his tongue in as far as he can before dragging it up to your clit and going, for lack of better phrasing, fucking wild on you. 

His tongue is so precise on your clit, so fast and firm, that he’s working you up to your first orgasm before you know it. All you can do is lay there and take it, try to keep your hips still for him, try to keep your eyes open so you can see his form moving in the dark, try to keep your moans and cries down so you don’t get another noise complaint from the neighbors. 

Wonwoo doesn’t like that last one, throwing an arm over your hip so you can move against him and reaching his free hand up to grasp your jaw, working a thumb between your lips and pressing it down on your tongue so you have no choice but to let your sounds loose. 

He groans into you in response and that’s all you need, the last push that tips you over the edge, and you can’t stop your thighs from closing around his head, trapping him against you as you cum. You know that’s one of his favorite parts of eating you out so you don’t feel bad, just bliss, your back arching and your whines echoing around the room as he works you through your release. 

When he doesn’t stop, you know it’s going to be one of those nights. The kind where he holds you down and makes you cum so many times you can’t think or talk or move, and draft a mental email to your boss telling them you won’t be able to make it into the office. There’s no way you’ll be able to function tomorrow, and you definitely won’t be able to talk after swallowing Wonwoo’s massive dick when he’s finished with you. 

My Masterlist

[anastasiabowe]

Ahhhhh! I'm so excited someone still writes for KnB, makes me so happy! Your fics are top notch!

Could you possibly to Aomine and Kagami (separate) reacting to their girl rapping WAP?Can be Nsfw pls? Thank you!

"𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗗𝗜𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗔𝗬?" — Your boyfriend reacting to you singing a very... Crude song.

note: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!! I'm really shocked not a lot of knb writers write for them anymore! But thank you, and everyone for your support!

Content warnings:

★ — 𝗔𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘

You pressed your playlist, and put it on shuffle. You started to undress as your fav song came on, WAP by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion. Well, it’s not your favorite song, but it brings you back! You restart the song and get into the shower. The warm water instantly relaxing your muscles as you sung along with Cardi.

Aomine had just gotten home from an intense game down on the basketball courts. It was intense for the other players more so, but the game never ended until his team (more him) got to 200 points, that was the bet, which Aomine with no doubt won, 1,000 USD. His sweaty stinky body lurked up the stairs.

He could hear the shower running, and your loud voice, singing: “I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage.” And so on. His eye twitched at the words, he himself very much knowing what those mean, and doesn’t know you talked like that.

He entered the bathroom, wincing at the hit steam, himself already being so hot. You could see him coming in through the glass, but you couldn’t see the look on his face as you continued to rap, “Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me, quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me, I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be I run down on him 'fore I have a guy running me.”

The more you rapped those lyrics, the more shocked he became. Who are you? So after your little show, and you dried off in the shower, Aomine no longer was in the bathroom, no he was not. He was sitting on the bed waiting for you to come out so he can wash out that filthy little mouth of yours.

“Uh huh, wanna talk all that shit, probably don’t even know what it means, huh?” You choked on his dick as it reached the literal back of your throat. You wanted to take him how you wanted, but this wasn’t for you.

“Why you cryin’? Was talking about wanting all of this earlier! Just giving you what you want!” He pushed your head up and down, your throat spawning trying to protect its sensitive walls. Your spit was all over you lower chin and his dick. Tears spilled down your face as you felt his dick twitch.

“Take this shit.” He came into your mouth making you force yourself off of him and you coughed. He smirked, and wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Good girl.”

★ — 𝗞𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗜

Kagami laid on your shared bed, resting while you talked in the phone with your friend in the bathroom. A song started playing that nobody in their innocent mind should be singing. You started mumbling to the words as you did your post-shower care. Your friend laughed hearing you sing along with the song, voice much louder.

She pointed out how you sang it, “stop singing about what you want and go get it, he’s literally a door away.” She joked, but that wasn’t very funny to you. “Yeah, but he’s not really into that..” you sighed, and she bursted out laughing mocking you.

Once you got off the phone with her and headed out of the bathroom, Kagami’s chest hit your face. You winced and got ready to yell at him, but before you could he picked you up and pushed you against the wall, you practically sitting on his shoulders. He pushed your panties to the side and began to eat you out

“Kagami, chill!” You moaned as he ate you out. He was grunting like a fucking hungry dog, and you couldn’t help but wonder what got him like this.

You didn’t wonder long, you soon were pulling his red locks as you came for the 3rd time. He flicked his tongue in your bud, making you scream in overstimulation.

He brought you over to the bed and laid you down. He removed your panties, and spit on his dick.

“Could have told me you wanted to do more than what we usually do. A song shouldn’t have decided that.” He slowly pushed in, knowing you weren’t all too familiar with his size. He started thrusting, and you smiled, thinking to yourself,

“Thank you Cardi and Megan.”

[daydreams-after-dark]

Behind the Curtain |

han jisung x reader x minho (Minsung x fem reader)

MDNI // SMUT

Pairing: mean!han x bratty!fem reader x helpful!minho

Synopsis: you tease your boyfriend Han before a show and he's not happy. So he punishes you, leaves you in a needy mess, and sends Minho to look for you. What happens when Minho can't resist your needs?

word count: 3.5k

MDNI // CW BELOW

CW: oral sex in semi public place, edging, mean Han, bratty reader, unprotected p in v sex, unprotected double pen 2 holes.

a/n: this is a slight rework of a request / ask from my other blog, but feel that the readers here might enjoy. X. Shorsha.

It probably wasn't a good idea to have tagged along to the show. All you did was distract him, making him all needy, his grabby hands clawing at the hem of your shirt. “Come on, baby, I have to touch you before I go out there.” he said “Come on, please baby, let me get a taste of your sweet pussy”, “Come, on… no one will know.” He teased, even though, literally anyone would know what was going on if they happened to walk in the room.

“It won’t take long.” He whispered as he pushed you to sit on the makeup table, knocking bottles and brushes all over the place.

“But Hannie,” you cried as he pushed your underwear to the side and his fingers squeezed into your very tight, very wet, very needy pussy. “You need to practice your vocal warm ups. You don’t have time for this… You need to wait until after the show.” You tried to sound stern.

Han looked at you devilishly. “You’re right. I do need to do my vocal warm ups.” He said low, and he knelt down between your legs, lifting your skirt and pushing a thigh wide with his unoccupied hand. Han proceeded to practice his vocal warm ups, trills… all that, right against your clit, whilst his fingers roughly fucked you. You didn’t last all of five minutes before you were screaming his name and your legs shook around his head. Surely the others would have heard you, and Han secretly loved that idea.

He looked absolutely fucked out after you came all over his face, your wetness smeared all over his mouth and chin, messing up his stage makeup. “Baby,” he said with pleading eyes. “Can you suck me off before I go out there?” he bit his lip and stared at you with Bambi eyes.

He just would not be told that he didn’t have time for this. So you decided to be the biggest fucking tease. “Okay baby, sit on that chair there. Let me take care of you, okay? Sweet sweet baby.” You had his cock out in no time. It was already rock hard, you knew he wouldn’t last long as you stroked his length and teased the tip with your tongue. “So much precum, honey.” You noted. Then you really gave it to him. A mix of long, slow strokes, and swirls of the tongue on the head, then taking him all the way in to the base, and then almost pulling off entirely. “Fuck.” You heard him mumble under his breath. You stole a look up at his face and you knew he was in a whole other world. And so very close.

That’s when you popped off entirely and packed his beautiful cock away, zipping up his trousers and slapping him on the thighs. “It’s showtime baby.” You announced brightly and left him there while he came to his senses and realised what the fuck you just did. And let me tell you he was not happy.

From your view of Han from the side of the stage he seemed absolutely fine to anyone else, except you knew better. His tight leather trousers were struggling around his package. Lucky they were black and already somewhat wet look because you were sure he would be oozing precum in there. And he seemed a lot more aggressive with his rapping.

But it wasn’t until he was walking to come off stage and he made eye contact with you that you knew you were fucked.

It was exactly what you wanted.

You thought he was going to take you backstage and fuck you against the door to the make up room, or bend you over the sink in the bathroom while he made you watch in the mirror. You were definitely NOT expecting him to grab you arm and take you behind the stage curtain that partitioned off the unused section of the arena.

You did not expect him to push you to the floor while he sat in one of the seats and whipped out his cock. “Finish what you started, baby.” he said rather cruelly. This is the Han that really gets you going. You thought about teasing him further, but you realised that you didn’t actually have a lot of time before someone would come looking for you both.

Han didn’t wait for you to protest and grabbed the back of your head and pushed your mouth down over his cock until it hit you in the back of the throat. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in, baby? Letting me make you come, and then you leave me like that.” he panted as he thrust himself up into your throat. He attacked your mouth with a mix of anger, aggression and so much passion. All he wanted was to feel you around him when he came. How dare you tease him like you did. He was making your eyes water and your saliva ran down your chin and hand and landing on his lap. Han loved it messy. “Look at you, taking my cock like this…” he tangled his fingers in your hair pushing you down even further than you knew was possible, and absolutely fucking your mouth without any care for you.

Why should he care when you left him like that? He threw his head back, growling as you felt his cum shoot down your throat. But he was still hard. And you hadn’t learned your lesson. He stood up and lifted you off the floor only to force you to kneel on the seat with you holding onto the back of the chair. He pushed your skirt up around your back and tugged your underwear down. Grabbing onto your hair to both hold you in place and to use as leverage, as he lined up his cock with your entrance. “I’m still so fucking hard, and you still need punishing.” He sighed and he pushed into you in one motion, slamming into your cervix and making you cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Han paid no attention to your needs, this was about punishing you and chasing another climax of his own.

You smirked to yourself. You enjoyed teasing him in the hopes you would unleash this version of Han. The wild, frenzied, relentless, brutal? Han. The one where he just wanted to use you for his own pleasure. He was always so attentive and caring, and sickly sweet (which you love), but when he was like this, fuck it did things to you. He’d never fuck you like this is you merely asked. You had to taunt and push him into it. Make him snap.

Han came inside you with a loud “fuck!!!” and pulled out of you without a care for your climax. You whined at the emptiness when you were so close to coming. Your vagina clenched around nothing. You turned to see Han putting his cock away with no intention of helping you as his semen started seeping out of you onto your legs, the chair… everywhere.

“But Han?” you say helplessly. He just looked at you unamused “You’ve got five minutes to make yourself come and clean yourself up, before I send Minho to look for you.”

You were left absolutely stunned and highly turned on by what just happened. You set to work to try and relieve yourself before you were caught by Minho.

.....

Han left you on the arena chair, in the semi darkness, panties down around your legs, cum leaking out of you. Not to mention the cum all over your chin either. Your skirt was hiked up around your hips. You looked like an absolute sight. But you were still so horny from what just happened.

Your legs were jelly from kneeling on the chair, so you decided to plonk yourself down on the seat (also getting cum on the chair - Han had given you fucking bucket-load), and set to work on trying to relieve yourself. You slid your hand down between your legs and closed your eyes, concentrating on bring yourself to orgasm.

Han headed backstage and immediately looked for Minho. He wanted to teach you a lesson for edging him and leaving him so fucking horny that he knew he was showing a partial erection the entire time he was on stage. But he also loved you. You were his sweet angel whom he loved more than anything in the universe. Part of him thought the idea of leaving you needy and in a compromising position extremely arousing, but at the same time he didn’t want to just anyone to find you. Plus, he had an idea.

“I need you to go find y/n. I’ve left her in a…um…situation… and I really don’t want anyone else to find her in the state she’s in.” He instructed his friend. Minho appeared disinterested, but on the inside he was intrigued, and maybe a tiny bit concerned that a random person might come across you first. “I just need you to go make sure she’s taken care of… and then bring her back.”

Minho had his suspicions on what he might see when he found you. He knew what you had done to Han before the show. He heard you both through the door before the show. He saw the look on Han’s face when they’d finished on stage, and he saw him grab your arm and pull you back behind the curtain.

Minho knew you liked to play games with Han. He knew you liked to bring out that rough, aggressive, brutal side of him. I’m aggressive too, Minho caught himself thinking.

Then he saw you. Minho stopped in his tracks, his breath caught in his throat. “Jesus fucking Christ” he whispered. He’d never seen anyone look so beautiful and at the same time so fucking dirty. You were reclined as much as you could be, legs parted with your panties around one of your knees. Your skirt flicked up around your waist and your eyes were closed. You had no idea Minho was standing there, fixed to the spot, mouth agape, staring at you as you dipped your fingers through your dripping folds.

“I just need you to go make sure she’s taken care of… and then bring her back.” Minho hadn’t missed the devious look in Han’s eye when he’d said that. Did Han actually mean…?

As Minho stepped closer to you he truly saw the state you were in. Your mascara was smeared down your face. So Han fucked her mouth ‘till her eyes watered, hmmm? There was an obvious sticky substance plastered to your chin. Yep, he definitely fucked her mouth. Minho’s eyes drifted over your body. Your breasts were heaving under your shirt, hard nipples showing through the thin fabric, a sheen of perspiration on your chest. Then he dared to look down between your legs, where your fingers were buried inside yourself. Minho sighed at the sight. “Fuck!” He muttered under his breath when he saw Han’s cum coating your inner thighs.

Minho’s dick was hard in his tight leather trousers. He couldn’t help but imagine being inside you, having your tight walls choking his cock. He felt his dick twitch when he imagined filling you up mixing his cum with Han’s. Minho sighed louder than he had meant to. Your eyes flicked open. Your eyes locked on each other.

Shit. Thought Minho swallowing hard, but he couldn’t look away. He stared at you with his classic unamused glare, that you could only imagine was him trying to snap you out of this ridiculous neediness you were currently exhibiting.

But the look had the opposite effect on you, and only made you even more aroused. He looked so sexy in his stage outfit, his makeup was still pristine despite him having been sweaty earlier while performing. You thought about the way he moved his body on stage and the way he rolled his hips. So strong. So powerful. So sexy. You bit your bottom lip at the mere thought of him rolling his hips against you, between your legs, inside of you, and you felt your walls flutter. You wanted him to fuck you.

“Minho…” you squeaked, your voice sounding so needy, your eyes hooded.

Minho shook his head. No please don’t make this harder than it is. He thought.

“Please… Minho… I need to you to help me. I’m supposed to be quick…. But I’m having trouble.” You said timidly, almost shyly, although your current situation did not scream “shy” at all.

Minho sighed, feigning annoyance, and sat down on the seat next to you. “Look,” he said “I think you should just tidy yourself up and come back to the makeup rooms. You look really slutty right now you know that right?” He wanted to touch your body so bad, but you were his best friend’s girlfriend.

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. And then you were on him, straddling his lap, grinding yourself against his stage clothes. Your wetness and Han’s cum all over him.

It felt so good to grind yourself against him, against his erection, the friction of his trousers against your bare clit offering some relief. But you needed more. You smashed your mouth on his and threw your arms around his neck. Minho could taste Han on your mouth which made him hornier than ever, and he grabbed your face, holding it still so he could plunge his tongue into your mouth, kissing you rough and urgently.

His hands slid up your thighs to squeeze your ass, lifting you off his lap slightly, then pulling you back down as he rolled hips up against you. You both let out a moan. “Fuck, you’re making this so fucking hard.” He breathed as he repeated the action.

“Come on Minho…” you cooed. “Hannie left me like this… all needy… all ready… for you to find me.” You said breathy.

Minho let that sink in for a moment. Maybe you were right. Maybe he could help you. Minho really wanted to help you.

You stared at each other for a long moment.

Fuck it. Thought Minho.

“Lift up.” he instructed gruffly, pushing you off his lap enough for him to reach his fly. Your eyes lit up as he freed his cock, watching it spring up and hit him on the stomach. “You want it, then get on.” He ordered as he gripped your ass with one hand and lifted you up enough to sink you down over his length in one swift motion.

Minho wasted no time, fucking you hard and steady from the start. “Is this what you wanted, hmm?” He growled.

“It is what I wanted, Minho…Hannie made me want it…” Minho’s mind froze but he didn’t slow down his thrusts. “It’s true,” you continued, oblivious to Minho’s confusion. “he’d say little things… putting ideas in my head… making me wonder what your cock felt like.” You closed your eyes concentrating on chasing your release.

“But, Minho… I’m pretty sure this is what you want too.” You rolled your hips. “I’ve seen the looks you give me and Han.” You leaned in to his ear “I know you were listening through the door earlier.” You whispered.

It was true. It was what Minho had wanted. For so long. Oh how he’d imagined going down on you, wondering what you tasted like. He’d imagined you sucking his cock too, and how it might feel to have your lips around it. He’d imagined what your tight, wet cunt felt like. He never imagined he’d really get to feel it squeezing around his cock like this. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back so he could attack your neck, sucking and nibbling, marking your skin. You moaned, your climax building rapidly.

Han’s words from earlier repeated in Minho’s head “make sure she’s taken care of…”

Minho’s hand slid up your shirt. “No bra. Should’ve known.” He said squeezing the flesh of your breast. “I need your mouth on my nipple. Now.” You panted. Minho hurriedly lifted your shirt, and attached himself as instructed, making you cry out at the pleasure/pain as he bit down. One hand was still glued to your ass assisting you as you bounced wildly on his cock.

“What do you imagine Han would think if he saw you ride another man’s cock like this? Like a fucking whore?” He hissed, not slowing down.

You laughed “What do you think he’d think?” You challenged.

“Fuck! He’d probably want to watch!” Minho replied. “You’re both such fucking exhibitionists”.

“He’d probably want to join in.” You added.

“I do want to join in.” A voice said.

——————————-

Neither you or Minho knew that Han had actually been watching from the beginning. A row back and seven seats away. His heart had exploded with happiness as he watched his best friend and you having sex. He loved you both dearly. He wanted to give you anything you wanted. But he also had his own fantasies. Like sharing you with Minho. When he realised that both you and Minho were attracted to each other, he set his plan in action. Even though neither of you had said anything, you didn’t need to say anything. Han knew, and he had been secretly planning a moment like this, where he could get the two of you together, and today’s events made for a perfect opportunity.

——————————-

You and Minho didn’t even slow down when Han appeared at your side. “You fucking asshole, Han.” You choked “leaving me so horny.” You didn’t mean it, you were just trying to spur him on.

“Yeah, Han… not sure it was really a good idea to send me to take care of her.” Minho winked at you. Tormenting Han was something you and Minho did well individually, but together, it made Han hard as fuck.

“You’re girlfriend is such a cockslut, I think she’d happily take two.”

This was exactly what Han had fantasised about. It was also what you had fantasised about. And Minho had definitely fantasised about it as well.

“You two have played right into my hands. You do know that don’t you?” Han smirked freeing his dick. “Is that so?” Minho sneered taking you in deep kiss.

It felt so incredible on Minho’s cock, but as soon as you sensed Han coming up behind you, and his hand land on one of your ass cheeks, you suddenly became wetter than ever.

“Pull her other cheek for me.” Both men had one hand on each of your cheeks spreading them apart and holding you still, so Han could press the tip of his penis against your other entrance. Minho halted his thrusts. You weren’t sure how Han was managing it in such an awkward position, but you soon stopped caring once he pushed the tip inside.

“Fuck!!!” You cried out. “That’s it baby, you can take it. I need you to take it. Fuck… your so… tight.” Han grunted as he inched his way in.

The stretch felt unbelievable as you were filled and stretched with two cocks. “How’s it feel for you, Minho?” You panted as Han began to thrust into you slowly. From Minho’s expression it was evident that he was trying to compose himself.

He gulped “it’s so fucking tight. It’s like your choking my dick.” He closed his eyes and started to move too. “Fuck… Han… I feel your dick moving against me.”

“I can feel you too, baby.” Han replied.

Shit! That’s hot. You thought. “Please… harder… faster… just fuck me.” You cried.

The men built up an unrelenting rhythm as they fucked you over the edge, coming hard and squeezing their cocks, and laying limp against Minho’s chest.

Minho had been close to coming for a long while, although he hid it well. But now that he’d taken care of you, he let himself go, releasing himself deep inside you with a few final thrusts and a long groan.

Now that you and Minho were both still, Han picked up the pace, tugging on a fistful of your hair and slamming into your ass until he too had come, filling you up once again. That was Han, always horny and always ready to coat your insides.

“Fuck, baby…” you weren’t sure if Han was talking to you or Minho.

But it didn’t matter. It also didn’t matter that you had no idea how you were going to clean yourselves up.

All that mattered was the feeling the three of you felt for each other, and that you had finally done something about it.

If you enjoyed this, please share with your Minsung x reader friends xxx and leave me a comment if you enjoyed. Luv you, Sorsha

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @rixenluv

[sleep-0-deprived]

Can you write a Nagito x reader smut, preferably bottom reader

Unexpected

Ofc I can and I hope you enjoy it ;)

Female aligned Dni 18+ only blog NSFW below

Something that came as a shock to you was the fact Nagito was a top because every body always assumed him to be the bottom in the relationship but boy they couldn’t have been more wrong.

So here you are with your ass in the air and a slender hand on your waist “c’mon I know you can take it baby” Nagito praised as he took a vibrator and pressed it further against your prostate “I can’t I just want to cum~” you whined in a needy voice but was suddenly interrupted by Nagito stroking your dick in rhythm with the harsh vibrations assaulting your prostate over and over again “your doing so well just hold out a little longer baby” Nagito cooed with bitter sweet encouragement “I’m so close~” you moaned as Nagito turned the vibrator on high and took his fingers pressing the vibrator dead in your prostate “that’s it cum for me baby” the white haired man spoke as he stroked you dick faster “I’m cumming~” you screamed as white strings of cum shot from your dick and only dirtying the fresh sheets.

“on your back now” Nagito demanded, taking his hands off your body, you hurriedly turn over on your back and watch Nagito trace his hands all over your body and only stopping at your perky nipples “hah~” you groan at the sensitive pleasure “god your so sensitive and beautiful” Nagito praises while taking his mouth and littering your neck and chest with bite marks only to come back up and pull you in to a deep kiss. You feel Nagito’s tongue against yours as he takes his hands off your nipples and raps them around your waist and grinding your bare body against his for the friction.

Nagito pulls away only to let you breath “gah~” you gasp needing more air. Soon Nagito breaks the string of saliva connecting the two of your mouths by tracing his tong across your already sensitive nipples “fuuck~” you groan feeling nagito grab your dick with his free hand and rub the tip and start stroking it while never letting his mouth and other hand leave your nipples “please please more~” you beg in a desperate voice “anything you want baby boy” Nagito groans while still sucking on your nipples and stroking your dick. Soon Nagito retracts his mouth and hand from your nipples, letting the cold air hit your swollen nipples but wasting no time at putting his mouth on your dick and gripping your thighs while slowly sucking you off.

“Ngh ah fuck just like that~” you moan out loudly as nagito sucks faster as he stares you in the eyes and you buck your hips into his mouth, “I’m so close Nagit~” you were cut off as a wave of pleasure hit you. You cum in Nagito’s mouth as he sucks every drop of cum, soon milking you completely dry “you tasted amazing baby boy~” Nagito purred with his signature smirk “now face down ass up” Nagito said with a storm voice. You quickly get in position feeling nagito push two fingers into you hole and slowly prep you “so good~” you groan, backing your hips in to Nagito’s fingers “it seems like your prepped enough already” Nagito remarked and pulled his fingers out, only to be soon replaced with his dick.

Before you could say anything Nagito bottomed out into you “god you feel so good baby~” Nagito groaned as he pulled out as slammed back in “oh god fuck faster~” you scream out in desperation and pleasure, soon Nagito picks up the pace gripping your hips and relentlessly slamming into you until you can’t think strait “your such a good boy y/n fuck~” the white haired man groaned in you ear as he continued to pound your ass with one hand around your waist, gripping hard enough for marks to be left behind after and the other hand stroking your oversimulated cock as it weeps between your legs and drip with precum.

Nagito picks up the pace, railing into your prostate and fucking you so hard your stomach bulges and you grip the sheets, your eyes rolled back and your mouth hanging opens with saliva all over the sheets “I’m hahngh closee~” you moan out inaudibly as Nagito fucks you at a inhuman pace “I’m close to baby, just wait a little longer~” the bigger male moaned out as he started fucking you rougher feeling like he is rearranging your guts.

“I’m cumming~” you scream feeling your third climax hit the hardest, with a few more thrusts Nagito came with his cum filling you to the brim with his hot seed. Soon you and Nagito comes down from your high and Nagito speaks up “I almost forgot” the man said while opening the nightstand and pulling a black but plug out “so you don’t waist any” Nagito said with a sly grin as he inserted the plung into you “im tired baby” you whined after Nagito put the plug in, soon you and the white haired male roll over, your head resting on his chest “I love you Nagito” you speak half asleep “I love you too y/n” Nagito spoke as he kissed your forehead and ran his hand through your hair until you both fell asleep.

[pursuitseternal]

“Dark Kissing:” 🫦 nsfw, making a Vampire Bride in “Our Blood is Thicker:”

(Ascended) Astarion x Cordehlia (Tav) | E | 2.6K of the Nsfw Dark Kiss

Art by co-creator and illustrator @marimosalad , NSFW version on X

Summary: Cordehelia rouses herself to feed, but the Dark Kiss is far more dangerous than merely awakening. She must be checked, subdued, brought under control by her love and creator by any means necessary

CW: Rough Sex turns Romantic, blood kink, hair pulling, Feral Vampires getting freaky, The Knee™️, (lovingly) Dom!Ascended Astarion, my interpretation of Van Richten’s “Guide to Vampires” 2e, heartbeat kink, nothing like feral sex followed by soft cuddling aftercare

Previous Ch | ao3 Link | Masterlist

Chapter 19: Dark Kissing…

🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦

“Astarion…” she purred, voice thickened with his blood, a bit strange on her tongue, as if she savored every letter in his name.

But that strangeness hardly registered, his body winding tight with lust as he looked into her own crimson eyes, as her lips drank him down for the first time. He could feel himself inside her, coursing in her veins, pumping in her whole body, not just that sweet, slick channel he longed to fuck into once more. Something deep inside him unlocked, robust and powerful and all consuming.

Blood ran down her chin, a sight that made his every breath race from his slack-mouthed, fang-licking grin. Her lips were cool on his wrist, warming hotter the more of him she drank. “Oh, my love,” he groaned, slinking to straddle her prone body between his thighs. “I could watch you swallow me down for hours…”

“You have, my love,” she chuckled, thick and deep in her chest as she hardly broke from his flesh.

A flash filled his mind, stronger than their tadpoles, their bodies and minds and souls as one. It was as if he relived every time she had sucked his cock, tasting himself on her tongue, feeling the way her throat closed with all the cum he spewed countless times over countless years. Instantly, his cock strained again against his leathers, that claustrophobic feeling of clothing suffocating his ever-growing desire.

His need to have her.

And yet she drank more. Until his skin began to tear, his head growing slightly light. “Enough, Cordehlia,” he whispered, a grind of his hips above her, his wrist freeing from her mouth.

Only to be ripped back by her fiercely strong grip once more. “But you taste so good, my love,” she crooned, “and I am just so hungry.”

Astarion recalled all that reading, gritting his teeth as he pulled against her, fought against the way both her hands clawed into his arm. “You will listen to me,” he ordered. Louder. “You must stop, or else you will die.”

Her voice made him shiver, unnatural and dark. “I think that’s already happened, hasn’t it?” One last musical laugh from her bloodstained lips, and she sank her newborn fangs into his forearm to feed all the more.

A growl on his lips, Astarion dug deep into whatever new well of power, of strength lay inside him. Never mind the way his heart actually began to rap harder in his chest, in lust and in fear. “You will listen to me, Cordehlia,” he hissed through clenched fangs. Wrestling his arm from her mouth, he felt every muscle in her body move to attack, ready to spring. Wanting more. “Ah, ah,” he smiled, darkly, determinedly. Catching her hands, he pinned them over her head, staying them with all the strength he could find, even as she thrashed and kicked and snapped her teeth. “Little Raven, I promised you I would save you, now you have to trust me just a little further. You are still being remade, turning into something so beautiful, so fierce I can hardly believe it. Why don’t we try a little something else to busy your lips and tongue with, hmm?”

A roar from her mouth, she bucked him off, sending him clean off the bed. Astarion braced himself against the wall, feeling less dizzy and stronger the less she drank. Somehow, his body knew what to do, more than that which was just between lovers. He knew he had to subdue her, keep her safe, lest she endanger herself.

A duck of his head, and he dove out of her tackle. Wild and crazed with bloodlust, she might be, but all that grace was yet to come back to her. He gripped her by the back of her shirt, his fingers easily tearing through that linen, baring her even paler flesh for him to see at last. “Come on, Cordehlia,” he laughed as she turned, eyes narrowed and breasts heaving with her pants, “you used to put up a better fight as a girl.”

Yes…. She took the bait, racing for him blindly, only to be shoved from behind and laid flat out on the floor at the foot of the bed. She froze for that moment, wind knocked out of her, even though her undead lungs required none of that now. He needed to finish this, needed to subdue her in more than one way. His hands ran down her back, lightly tracing over the bumps of her spine. “I’m going to strip you, my darling, going to take your mind off that pit in your stomach. You hunger, and I can sense how painful it is, my love. Let me ease that pain.”

“Want me… to say please?” She panted, breathless as she gasped for air.

“If you’d like, my darling…” he wasted no second of his advantage, shimmying down her trousers, ripping them like paper with such ease in his new and powerful hands.

“Fuck you, Astarion,” she grunted trying to get up, but he just covered her backside with his whole body and grabbed for her hands again to capture them against the floor.

“That is the idea, my love,” he tried to chuckle, the same jibe as they had made many times before. But never like this. Never with every instinct in his ascendant brain screaming at him to claim her and finish the task at hand. He settled heavily on her back, pushing her as hard as he could into the ground to keep her steady, her two cold hands in one of his, he tugged off his shirt and freeded the laces of his breeches.

But for all the pounding drumming in his head that could have blinded him, he looked down at her. Pinned, subdued, ready and panting and sweating.

He didn’t see some creation half-made. Didn’t see a servant or slave for his use.

It was her, addled and unsure and newborn. Lusty and scared. And he tried to slow that reborn and foreign beating in his chest.

“Cordehlia,” he leaned forward, tracing the pad of his tongue up her chilled, pointed ear. “My sweet, I’ve got you.”

Still she fought, twitching and jerking under his hold, but his hands rested on each of hers to slide them next to that mess of fiery red hair. He could see her breathing so hard as her skin pulled between her ribs. She needed calming, claiming… he suckled on that cool right ear, forcing the urge to bite into her flesh again back into his stomach. Something inside her purred, her voice maybe, her soul perhaps. But whatever it was, he did it again. And again. Suckling on the edges of her ear as it twitched. Feeling her flesh mildly warm now with his blood flooding her and her lust taking command.

Her breathing grew softer, steadier and less frantic, he sensed her rising heat, smelled the way slick began to gather between her folds. His cock jolted to feel her begin to buck beneath him, almost grinding against the floor as her hunger traveled below her belly to simmer lower and stronger. Shifting carefully if quickly, his knees spread her wider, his sharp ears hearing her arousal dripping to the wood beneath them.

The way she raised her hips ever so slightly as he slipped between her thighs drew some kind of noise from his throat. Feral. Hungry. He loved it, laying his whole length down to cover her head to toe. Her skin was cold, a strange shiver raced down his spine as he pressed her into the floor. As he pushed her apart, letting his cock slip in so naturally, so slowly, finding that wet and tight warmth he craved more than air.

A low purr seemed to sound from her, her back arching against his chest. She hissed, a little roll of her hips, pleading for more of him. raising herself against him, she wriggled his cock deeper, bracing for his thrusts to begin. “Please, Astarion,” she breathed, voice honey-thick in her throat, “you wouldn’t leave your Bride unsatisfied, would you?”

Bride. At the word, he groaned loudly, fangs wet as he smiled, shoving his cock deeper inside as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. “Never, my darling,” he rasped. Another guttural noise, and he released one hand from hers, wrapping that length of bright fiery hair around his hand once… twice, and yanking her head back slightly. “You are mine forever now, my love until the stars fall down.”

Warm lips pressed against the cool ivory of her neck, careful to keep his teeth covered, lest he stir awake her bloodlust again. But Cordehlia wasted no time, slamming and wriggling her cunt against his cock, easing forward to easy back again.

A hiss rushed from his mouth against her skin each time she dared to move. Finally, he rocked into her ever so slightly, letting his cock sink all the way into her, letting that aching, pulsing head brush against that edge of her channel. Curling, she snapped her hips hard against him, stealing his breath.

Another snap, and he groaned, that insatiable hunger for her growing unbearable. That reality of his freedom, his power starting to course in his veins as she bucked back against him with even more fervor. “You’re an eager little thing,” he sighed, running his tongue over the scars on her neck, taking her ear into the warm, wet of his mouth once more. “I like you this eager,” whispering, he savored the way she shuddered beneath him.

“Then give me some of your own eagerness back, won’t you? I would hate to do all the work for you… my lord…”

Enough of coyness and carefulness he decided as he grasped her head, pulling her mouth to his to assume control. He needed her on his tongue again, needed to devour and consume and dance with her lips as they had a thousand times. “I love you,” his words breathed between her lips as he sucked more of her with each kiss. “I never want to do this with anyone but you ever again.”

A wish he had made once, so long ago under the elven forest and stars.

He could almost smell the woods near their homes, almost hear that babbling stream and feel the moss beneath them as every sinew sought the release they both craved. Thrust after thrust, he could feel her pressure rising, the way her thighs began to shake, her mouth panting and sighing heavily against his open lips. He could taste himself on her tongue yet, that rich iron, that tingling sensation of power, the same that raced down his nerves… and just like that, he knew she was about to seek more of him.

Drink more of him.

A yank of her hair in that fist, and he pulled her off his flesh just as her own razor-fangs snapped shut. “Tch, naughty, my bride,” he teased. A trail of caresses down her spine, and he raised himself. One hand rested on her shoulders, hair tugged just tight enough, he slipped his warming touch around her hips. Her clit was hard, aching and easy to find, and it was so simple to circle it. To make her moan for him, to raise her ass up just that little bit higher and take him all the deeper. To angle himself as he slammed into that spot inside that he knew better than she did herself.

He chewed into his own lip, clenching hard but not to draw blood. No, he needed her sated. Pleasured. Flooded with the bliss they shared now.

Lord and Bride.

Maker and beautiful creation.

Her pleasure tore into him, every muscle that clenched around him pounded as if his own. Her voice cried his name, that she loved him… her sweet words panted over and over again as she crumbled to the floor, boneless, bloodless, hot, and writhing.

Slowly, he pulled out, turning her on her back, longing more than anything to see her smile. Radiant, breathtaking, her breasts heaved as she caught her wind, her hair streaked over her damp and sweating face, and most beautifully, she smiled at him through her bliss. Her little fangs peeked beneath her rosy lips, her tongue wetting her mouth as she pulled those fiery, loose strands from her cheeks and chin.

Reverently, his own hands helped to clear her forehead, strand by precious strand. Laying his body atop hers, a groan slipped from his lips as she raised her hips to slot his cock back into her seeping, wet folds. He breathed her name, believing for the first time that she was with him again, saved.

Now made of one flesh.

Sharing one blood.

A blood that ran hot and thick forever between them.

He couldn’t hold her close enough, couldn’t thrust into her smoothly or deeply enough. He couldn’t taste enough of her on his tongue or feel her slightly chilled breath sweep into his own lung in any amount that would satisfy. His fingers gripped against the back of her head, weaving tightly again into that mess of her locks, the other wrapped firmly around her breast, the hard, cool nipple pressing into his palm like stone as he gripped it, as it swayed in time with his taking of her.

That tether between their bodies, that bond between their minds, something within them snapped taut, his heart beating in her chest, his very essence hers too. Every sensation between their bodies doubled, coursing harder as he drove her to the edge of her climax, thrown there himself as her side. She clawed at his back of ancient scars, body arching and trembling as she groaned her love for him again.

And this time, he followed, pouring every last bit of himself into her, making and remaking her anew. His cock shuddered, jolt after jolt of pleasure bursting from his core into hers. Seed seeped, hot and slick and mixed into one as he lowered himself into her arms.

Nestled into that bloodied crook of her neck, he could do nothing but breathe, forcing his eyes to remain open, to assure himself that this was it. That it was done.

That every little bit of trust she had put in him was replaced tenfold. And would be repaid again for the rest of their immortal lives.

Touch ghosting up and down his back, she smiled against his forehead, lips pressing their strange, cool kiss just beneath the edge of his curls. “I love you…” she whispered, almost imperceptible. Almost inside her own mind.

With a grunt of effort, he slipped from inside her, a tender kiss on her lips before he reached up and over the top of the bed to grab for the blood red covers. The heavy fabric fluttered as he draped it over them both, as his hands tucked it around her shoulders, her back. “I love you, my darling…” he kissed her cheek, “my consort…” he kissed her forehead before staring softly into those searching, crimson eyes, “…my bride.”

Astarion pulled her into his chest, rolling her to rest against his warm flesh and racing heart. “Rest, my love, we have eternity to make up for lost time now.”

His hands traced through the softness of the blanket, and his warmth seeped into her skin. She wouldn’t let it out from her lips just yet, how strange it was now to be the one corpse-cold, to be the lover to seek the warmth of her love. But as she nuzzled closer into that perfect dip in the muscles of his chest, she smiled.

A tear leaked from her eye.

To hear that ancient pattern of his heart beating beneath her ear again.

[littledemondani]

bestie can i get something abt fuckboy!eddie and shy!reader selling to you but you don’t have enough money if you catch my drift 😏

warnings: fuckboy!eddie, fem!reader, oral (m receiving), r buys weed from eddie, r is shy but not shy?, no use of y/n

you’re normally so put together. there’s never been anything or anyone that has ever caught you off guard. you’re so quick with witty comebacks and overall being the epitome of confidence. all of your friends pride you on it, while some wish they had even an ounce of your courage and lack of giving a shit about what anyone thinks of you.

so, when you meet eddie munson, the dealer your best friend suggested could hook you up with some weed while you’re home visiting family from college, you are taken aback by how quickly you fucking fold.

his charming smile, bright personality, and overall damn good looks rendered you fucking speechless. you’re a bundle of nerves, fidgeting in your seat and looking anywhere else but at him.

eddie finds it adorable. normally he’d be annoyed to hell and cut the deal off, but your soft eyes and voice captivate him.

“so, whaddaya say?” he asks, holding the baggie filled with weed out in front of him. “you good with twenty dollars?”

you stutter for a bit, having completely gotten lost in the warm brown of his eyes. “yeah, yeah, lemme just…”

you open up your wallet and visibly deflate when you notice how much is in there. fifteen, not enough to cover the full amount he’s willing to charge you. you mutter a low ‘fuck’ under your breath, but not nearly low enough.

“something wrong?” eddie presses, leaning forward slightly against the picnic table as he looks you up and down.

“i don’t have enough,” you say, tossing your wallet back into your purse. “i’m sorry. i thought i had way more in there.”

eddie takes a minute to respond. he’s mulling something over in his mind, rapping his fingers against the wood of the table as he does so.

“what if,” he says slowly and thoughtfully. “you can pay me another way?”

you pinch your brows together, clearly not understanding what he means. “wait, huh?”

“i’m saying…you don’t have to pay me with money, sweetheart,” he raises a brow at you, a hint of a smirk tugging on his lips.

then it hits you. the realization of the offer he’s giving you. you’d done that more times at school than you’d like to admit. but in those instances, it was always you who suggested blowing them, and what twenty-year-old college boy was gonna say no to that?

you just never expected yourself to be on the receiving end of that same offer.

“so what, i blow you, you give me the weed, and that’s that?” you ask, suddenly getting a sliver of your confidence back.

eddie studies you for a bit before grinning devilishly. he normally isn’t this straightforward when he sells. opting to keep it professional at all times but there’s something about you that makes him throw all of that out of the window.

“i think it’s a pretty fair trade,” he points out. “but if you’re not into that, then don’t worry about it. this is only if you want to. i’m not a sleaze ball like that.”

you stand and walk around the picnic table, trailing your fingertips along the old wood. you stop in front of him and sink to your knees, keeping your eyes on him.

“i think it’s pretty fair, too,” you say, rubbing your hands up his thighs to the bulge already formed.

he shifts and widens his legs a bit to make room for you, his eyes darkened with lust and anticipation.

you waste no time in undoing his belt buckle and pulling his jeans down just enough for his long, thick cock to spring free of its confines.

your mouth waters at the sight of it, throbbing and leaking at the fat tip. you dart your tongue to lick it up, moaning softly as you do so.

eddie groans at the feel of you, bringing his hand to grip onto your hair. his eyes roll back as you wrap your lips around the tip and suckle, bucking up towards you instinctively.

you slowly take more of him down your throat. you gag a little, though it only turns eddie on even more. he grips your hair tightly, and you can tell he’s trying to hold himself back from fully fucking your face.

once your gag reflex settles, you set a steady pace, swallowing around him.

eddie brings himself to look down at you. you’re already gazing at him, and he smiles.

“you’re so fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth, sweetheart,” he moans, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “shit, i could get used to you like this.”

you bring your hand to his heavy balls, giving them a gentle squeeze before massaging them. eddie whines at your touch, tipping his head back as he curses.

“your mouth feels amazing,” he says, holding your head still so he can fuck into you. “goddamnit, i’m gonna cum. fuck, you’re too good.”

he thrusts a couple of times before his release overtakes him and he cums straight down your throat. he moans loud, shuddering a bit at the intensity of his orgasm.

when he finally lets go of you, you pull back and swallow the remnants of his cum.

“here,” he pants, reaching for the baggie to hand it to you. “a deal is a deal.”

“thanks,” you stand on shaky legs and take the bag from him, giving him a soft smile.

he tucks himself into his pants while you make your way back to the other side of the table to gather your things. you put the baggie inside your purse and fling the strap over your shoulder.

you take one last look at him, watching him as he takes hold of his black metal box. thoughts of wanting to see him again cross your mind, and before you could even stop yourself, you’re walking back over to him.

without saying anything, you reach for his hand and write down your name and phone number on his palm.

“see you around,” you tell him with a wink as you slowly back away from him to head back to your car. leaving him at a complete loss for words.