#i dunno i'll have to look through those

[espy-heart]

I've been slowly trying to draw more.

[quiveringdeer]

I really don't want to go back to work. technically probs shoulda worked yesterday but like no one else is going in this wk pretty sure- and I technically have annual leave I can burn sooo I think I just might

ugh

[writersdrug]

Convincing bartender Simon to make one of those overly decorated and sweet cocktails or even add it to the menu because it’s cute and you know it’d do well on the gram and attract the ladies. He’d huff and puff but do it anyway

Like one of these with cotton candy, glitter, and sprinkles etc!: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/825988387943179970/

OMG wait I soooo want to try that-

The video ends, and Simon stares at the picture of the drink with a furrowed brow.

"Looks like somethin' you'd see at a bridal shower." He comments, handing you back your phone.

"Doesn' it?" You say with a smile, shoving your phone into your back pocket. You lean your arms over the bar and poke his side. "Come oooonnnnnn, Simon - imagine how many sales you'd make on something like that! People would love it."

"Imagine the money I'd lose, havin' t' buy bags of candy floss..." he grumbles, hiding his smirk behind his mask when you groan dramatically.

"You could do it as a promotional thing...? Like- ladies' night... in October?"

He snorts. "'Ladies' Night in October', hmm? N' what are ladies celebratin'?"

"Ok, fine- forget Ladies' Night. What about something for Halloween?"

"Like wot?" He grunts, grabbing a glass from the stack and pouring out one of the taps.

"I dunno... something fun, but practical - Oh! You could- like a Moscow Mule, but just serve it in a different glass and use edible glitter!"

Simon quirks his brow as he slides the beer glass to a customer. "Edible glitter?" He asks, wiping his hands on his rag. "Didn't know there was such a thing."

You nod quickly, your eyes full of excitement. "Yeah! God, I could pick up a bunch from the baker's supply down a few blocks. You could call it 'Witches' Brew.'"

He turns it over for a moment - in his opinion, it's ridiculous. He runs a pub, not a college bar. He would have scoffed at the idea of someone else had brought it up - but, it's you bringing it up, and that's a completely different story. You have such a brilliant gleam in your eye that melts his heart. He can't say no to you, especially after making you cry last week. He's still carrying out his penance for that.

"You think it'd sell?"

"Oh, for sure! I can make an insta post about it to get some attention."

He clicks his tongue, turning to the POS and seemingly uninterested by it. "Fine - if you spend anythin' promotin' it, let Price know. He'll reimburse ya."

You let out a triumphant whoop and slide of the barstool. He lets out a huff as you trot back to your tables, a noticeable pep in your step. He chances through the window on the kitchen door to see if his food is ready - what he's met with is Johnny's face, staring through the warming counter as he stands at the stove, a smug grin resting on his lips.

Simon can practically hear the cook's thoughts. Whipped bastard.

You had left without saying goodbye that night. You waited by the counter, rocking eagerly on your toes as Simon grabbed your tips from the night before out of the safe. As soon as he handed them to you, you snatched them and ran out the door. He was a bit irked by that, standing there with a stubborn frown as you pranced out of the restaurant - maybe you're still not back to being cheeky and chipper yet after last week. He can live with that... for now.

However, not twenty minutes later, you come stumbling back in with a paper bag in hand and a smile on your face, panting like you'd just run a marathon. Simon's anxieties quell at the sight of you.

"Got it!" You say breathlessly, walking to the edge of the bar and dropping the bag onto it. Simon folds his arms over his chest as you reach in and pull out a small bottle of glitter. You hand It to him and he takes it, holding it up to the dim light above.

"You can eat this shit?" He asks, brows furrowed.

"Mhmm!" You chirp, settling into a barstool. "Now, bartender - I'll have a Moscow Mule."

He sets the glitter down and grabs a clear glass, working on gathering the ingredients. "Ya only call me that when you want something."

"I'm calling you what you are." You respond, watching as he skillfully mixes everything together, pouring vodka from the jigger between two fingers, tossing in lime juice and topping it off with ginger beer. As shameful as it is to admit, you're kinda attracted to the skill he presents.

"Should be callin' me boss." He says, topping the drink off with a straw.

You slide off your stool and chuckle. "Yeah, you'd be into something kinky like that."

Simon has to bite the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the thought of you - nope. He won't even entertain the idea. He simply steps back a bit as you wedge yourself behind the bar (yes, he actually forces himself to give you enough room - he doesn't need you feeling hiw aroused he is).

You grab a bottle of the glitter and dash some into the drink. After swirling it with the straw, the liquid becomes iridescent with purple shimmer that billows about the glass. You look up at him with a satisfied smile.

"Witches' Brew." You announce, holding the drink out to him.

You look happy - an observation that makes Simon smile, even if he wasn't the one to cause your happiness. He lifts his mask, grabs one of the straws and plugs it, before bringing it to his mouth and sampling the drink.

"Tastes like a mule."

"But it looks like a potion, right?"

"'S this glitter goin' to be in my gut whenever I get autopsied?"

You laugh, grabbing the glass and leaving Simon behind the bar. "That would be a cute party trick." You call over your shoulder.

Simon watches you, arms folded over his chest and his eyes curious. You set the drink on the opposite end of the bar, pulling your phone from your pocket and pointing the camera to the glass. You grimace; your arm reaches over the bar to grab the rag lying over the faucet, and quickly wipe down the bartop. He huffs, grabbing his phone from the register and pulling up his group text with Soap and Price.

Ghost: got ourselves a marketing team.

He looks back up at you - you're hunched over, taking picture after picture of the drink. You twirl the straw in the liquid every few seconds, kicking up the glitter and making it reflect the low lighting of the bar.

Hus phone buzzes.

Price: ??

Ghost: she's making a drink for october and promoting it in social media

Soap: clever girl

Soap: what drink?

Ghost: moscow mule, but in a clear glass and with some edible glitter shit. it's pretty neat.

Soap: picture?

Price: Promoting? Will this cost me anything?

Simon chuckles. He pulls up the camera on his phone and aims it at you-

Except you're in a different position. You're perched so nicely on a barstool, holding your phone at arm's length and your drink in the other hand. You're smiling up at your camera, nose scrunched as you pose for a selfie. Your hair is down, your back is arched, and - did you tug your neckline down? You most certainly did. You're breasts weren't that pronounced before.

Without thinking, Simon takes a photo. The shutter clicks loudly: you look at him, as do the three patrons sitting at the bar.

Fuck. He panicks, clearing his throat and lowering his phone. "Jus' showin' the lads what you're up to." He says, but you can see the tension in his shoulders as he quickly sends the picture to the chat and puts his phone in his pocket.

You smirk - whether it was truly just for Price and Soap, or if it was for himself, you felt a little flattered that you'd caught him in the act. You hoped for the latter.

Simon exhales heavily and rests his palms on the counter. His face burns beneath his mask as he tries to calm his racing heart. Fuck- was that weird? Course it fuckin' was. Goddamn creep.

His phone buzzes again. He sighs and pulls it into his hand.

Price: Cute thing, isn't she?

Simon immediately frowns, any previous shame now replaced with a fire in his chest.

"Fuckin' wot?"

[heejake-hoon]

Enhypen hyung line when you send them a dirty text while being surrounded by family (mdni)

Heeseung: You try to bite back a smirk as you covertly type out the risky text under the table. 'Out with the fam but all I can think about is your thick cock stretching me open later…' Send. A few moments pass before your phone vibrates. You sneak a glance to see Heeseung's intense eyes narrow at you from across the room, his plush lips already parting subtly. There's a slight flush creeping up the back of his neck as he reads it. 'I dunno baby, might need you to send me a pic to really get me going while we're around your parents…' he types back with a heated look. You mouth an innocent 'What?' at him, going for wide-eyed before quickly typing. 'Like maybe a sneak peek of what's waiting for that huge cock later?' You can see the way Heeseung clenches his jaw, chest subtly rising and falling as his thick arms tense involuntarily. He's definitely getting riled already. With a wicked grin you fire off another. 'I'll be dripping and ready for you to just slam in to the hilt…' Heeseung's eyes damn near smolder as he hungrily drinks in your body before slowly, purposefully dropping his gaze straight to your lap. Even from here you can see the slight telltale tenting of his slacks as his tongue sweeps over his lower lip. Your phone buzzes again. 'Better be ready for this, baby…cuz I'm gonna wreck you raw when we're alone.' Arousal zings straight to your core at the sultry promise. Looked like getting him all worked up wasn't so hard after all.

Jay: You try not to squirm at the positively sinful text you just sent to Jay while surrounded by his whole family for dinner. 'I'm so fucking horny just thinking about those big hands spreading me open later…' You covertly peek up through your lashes in time to catch the harsh inhale and clenched jaw as he reads it. Jay's piercing eyes instantly find yours in a dark glare that has you suppressing a shudder. 'Pretty fuckin' ballsy to be sending me dirty texts while my parents are sitting right there,' he types with one thick finger. A fresh wave of arousal washes over you at the thought of getting caught. You shift minutely in your chair. 'Well maybe if you werent so goddamn thick I wouldn't be gagging for it all the time…' The muffled growl tears from Jay's throat as he reads the words, powerful forearms tensing against the tabletop. For a torturous moment you match his blazing gaze, skating your tongue over your lower lip. "Everything okay over there, son?" his father pipes up in concern. You have to duck your head to hide the smirk at Jay's visible stiffening. "Y-yeah. Just…something annoying. But it's fine." Your phone buzzes again as you catch that scorching dark look. 'This ain't over. Soon as we're alone I'm making you choke on this dick for being such a fuckin' tease…' You stifle a desperate whimper at the promise, already throbbing between your thighs at the mere thought.

Jake: You make sure Jake is within view before tapping out the scandalous text behind your back. 'God I can't wait to go home and just bury my face between your thighs later…' There's a choked sort of sound from across the room as Jake reads it, chest instantly heaving. You peek through your lashes to see his face flushed, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring as his fingers fly over his phone. 'Fuck, you tryna get me all worked up in front of your parents like this?' You bite your lip hard as you tap out your response. 'Maybe…get you so fucking horny you're leaking by the time I wrap my lips around that huge dick…' Jake damn near snarls as he reads it, free hand clenching into a white-knuckled fist in his lap. You can see the desperation kindling behind those heated eyes when they catch yours, speaking right to the molten need already pooling low in your stomach. Another buzz. 'Jesus fucking Christ. So fucking bad I wanna bend you over this table & eat you out raw till you're soaked and screaming for it…' You have to sink your teeth into your fist to muffle the desperate whine that escapes your throat. Your thighs press together instinctively, whole body quivering at the explicit visual his words evoke. You catch Jake's heated gaze again from across the room, holding it boldly as you mouth 'Bathroom?' at him with a devilish arch of your brow. His jaw clenches almost violently at the unspoken suggestion, thick chest visibly heaving beneath his shirt as that muscle in his throat bobs. For a moment, you think the sheer naked want coursing through his expression might make him snap and take you right there on the damn table in front of everyone. Then your phone buzzes harshly in your lap. 'You got 2 minutes to get that sexy ass in the bathroom before I come drag you there myself…'

Sunghoon: You try not to squirm in your seat as you send off that deliciously filthy text to Sunghoon while surrounded by his whole family. 'I'm so fucking horny just thinking about your huge cock deep in my guts later…' There's a tense pause before your phone buzzes with his response. You covertly peek up to see Sunghoon's intense gaze burning into you from down the table, jaw visibly clenched and the tips of his ears already turning pink. 'You keep talking shit like that and I'm gonna make you finish me under this table…' he warns, dark promise simmering behind those heated eyes. You bite back a whimper at the thought, surreptitiously crossing and squeezing your thighs together as another rush of arousal washes over you. Before you can overthink it, you're quickly tapping back with one hand discreetly in your lap. 'Maybe I want you to use me like a fuckdoll while your whole family's right here…' The way Sunghoon's chest expands with a sharp inhale, thick forearms flexing involuntarily against the tabletop…God, you're already soaked just imagining having that powerful frame pinning you down. Completely at his mercy while he claimed what was his with brutal need. Another buzz drags your attention back to your phone as you mouth goes dry. 'Be careful what you wish for, baby girl… you know damn well that this dick doesn't play fair.' Your cunt clenches hard at the utter sin dripping from those words. You can already picture him forcing your thighs apart to make room for his thick length sinking into your helpless body with deep, punishing rolls of his hips-- A sudden insistent nudge against your ankle makes you start. You glance up to find Sunghoon's smoldering gaze trained on you as he slowly, deliberately grinds the toe of his boot against your inner calf in a blatant tease. The breath stutters from your lips as your thighs instinctively part slightly, already desperate for more friction against your dripping center. Sunghoon's darkly amused smirk is the only warning before he's trailing burning paths all along your legs with little aborted thrusts and caresses. You have to sink your teeth into your knuckles to stifle a moan, whole body quivering with the effort of keeping some semblance of composure...

[tidetfs]

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

[jilixthinker]

gross freak

͟͟͞♡ jisung × fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warning: sub!jisung, dom!reader, kinda gross jisung, established relationship, masturbation (m rec), cock/balls slapping, jisung is gross but they are so in love

=͟͟͞♡ please consider reblogging if you like my works!

“Honey, I'm home!"

Jisung is kicking off his white sneakers in front of the door. They're a bit stained with mud on the sides, and he knows he’s not allowed to step inside the house wearing those unless he wants to hear your voice reverberating through the apartment. He's still wearing his soccer gear, tiny red shorts with a white stripe down the side, cut just above the knee, and a white tank top that you're sure he wore for the training as well. It's 10 p.m., but it's still warm outside, and the white fabric sticks uncomfortably to Jisung's slim body, a few yellow sweat stains under his armpits. 

His hair is still damp from the running, tied in a bun. A red hairband is pulling back his greasy locks from his forehead. He hasn't changed that in at least two weeks.

"Idiot," you chuckle in response, "how was it?"

"Uh, fine I guess" Jisung answers while kicking off his grayish, damp socks along with his shoes, "Changbin-hyung fell and ate a bunch of soil, I laughed so hard I peed my pants" he snorts.

"You all act just like children," you reply with a giggle, "I'm glad you had a good time. Are you hungry? Have you had dinner yet?"

"I ate a burger with the boys . It was huuuuge, baby. Can still feel it moving in my stomach," he replies as he finally enters in the living room delivering his signature goofy smile. 

You smile as you see him patting his tummy. Jisung is very thin, almost borderline unhealthy, but a small layer of fat sits stubbornly below his belly button, and it doesn’t go away despite all of the physical exercise. Jisung says it’s okay, that he doesn't mind. But you, you love it.

"Good. You didn’t take a shower there, did you?" you ask stretching your legs on the couch and pausing the show you were watching. 

"Nah, I didn't feel like it. I'll do it in a while." Jisung answers while opening the refrigerator and fishing out a can of sprite. He opens it with gnarled fingers and brings it to his lips, chugging half of it in one big gulp. 

"Ew, Sungie" 

Jisung widens his eyes in fake shock and leans against the peninsula of the kitchen. "Ew? To the love of your life? Your boyfriend, your future husband, the apple of your ey-"

"Enough of this," you laugh as you come closer him, leaning across the peninsula. "I could count the grease stains on your hands if I wanted to. You're dirty."

"Mean," Jisung whispers drinking the other half of the sprite and hiding a burp with one fist. "I thought I'd come home and get a better treatment than this."

You burst out laughing at his words. "Uh, did you have plans? What did you expect big boy, tell me." 

Jisung chuckles again and you can see a bit of burger sauce pooled at the corner of his lips. 

"Uhh, dunno. A massage, maybe? Showing your baby you love him?”

You laugh, "You want a massage? Come here, that can be arranged." You take a couple of steps back and sit on the couch, on the peninsula side, so you can stretch your legs. Jisung looks at you with a lopsided smile and brings a hand to his head, scratching behind his ear. You can see from a distance the oily strands of hair slipping through his fingers. You should find it disgusting. You really should.

You open your arms and offer him a big smile, "Come on, baby. You must be dead tired, hmm? The boys destroyed you. Come to mama, I'll give you what you need."

Jisung gulps and giggles, wobbling closer to you and letting himself fall into the space between your thighs, abandoning his back against your chest. Then he lets himself slide forward a little, pressing the nape of his neck against the softness of your breasts under the shirt you're wearing.

"Uh, uh. That feels nice already," he murmurs adjusting himself against your chest.

"Have you had some drinks?" you ask, bringing your hands to his shoulders and pinching them lightly. The fabric is damp and smells of sweat and the spray deodorant Jisung always puts on when he doesn't feel like showering.

"Just a couple of beers with Chan-hyung," Jisung sobs as soon as your fingers sink lightly into his muscles, "that man needs to get laid."

"Don't be cocky, Sungie," you reply with a grin as your hands descend to work on the muscles in his arms, "if it wasn’t for me, you'd be jerking off to one of your tacky porns as well. Be grateful I picked you up on the streets and decided you would be mine."

Your words are light, he knows you are joking. Even though, to tell the truth, Jisung was a virgin before meeting you, and the first time you had sex he was so nervous he came before he even managed to put the tip in. Adorable.

Jisung laughs and then he lets out a breathy moan when you run your fingers up between his shoulder blades, focusing on a knot. "That’s true. But now he’s the one jacking off to a shower wall. While me, I have a beautiful girlfriend who decided I was good enough to be adopted. I still am thankful for your bad taste in men." 

"My taste in men is great, excuse you," you retort as your chin rests on his head, near the band that pulls back his hair. "I pulled the nastiest hottest boy around. I regret nothing."

Jisung laughs. "You literally call me your rat." 

"Rats are cute," you answer back piquantly. Your fingers continue to work on the knot in Jisung's back with a little more insistence. Jisung writhes softly. "You just call me that because I'm a little gross."

You lower your head to rest a kiss on his greasy hair. There's gel residue on the strands, and it's a bit crusty.

"You know how much I love that you're a little gross. Makes me feral."

"You're a freak." Jisung laughs as your hands finish massaging his shoulder blades and descend to the front, down to his chest, to caress his sore pecs.

"Maybe," you admit. "Tell me how many beers you've had again. Just the truth this time, hmm?" 

"Five. Or six. Maybe six. Ah-" Jisung gulps when you brush your thumb on his pec, grazing his nipple. "Feelin' a bit tipsy." 

"I know, my love," you whisper as you continue massaging his chest with your fingers. Jisung's head is nestled perfectly between your breasts and you feel his ribcage swell and deflate quickly, like a baby bird. "You're all wriggly. You just can't sit still when you feel good, hmm?"

Jisung laughs embarrassed before letting a faint moan out when your fingers pinch his nipple again, more insistently. “Not fair though, you're t-teasing."

You nod a few times as your face descends to his ear, kissing the skin behind it, where you know that acrid, powerful smell typical of Jisung accumulates. “As if you didn't have a different kind of massage in mind from the beginning. Don't lie to mama, Sungie."

Jisung shakes his head tentatively, “I wasn’t trying to imply any of that”.

You chuckle at his words, bringing your mouth to his earlobe and nibbling at it. “Now say it again without drooling over yourself, mh?”

Jisung hiccups and goes limp against you, giving you enough space to keep nosing at his neck. A little bit of saliva is bubbling out of his parted lips, forming a shiny coat on his skin and you just wanna suck it off.

“Well, maybe. M-maybe just a little,” he grunts while the tip of your tongue brushes on the shell of his ear. “You’re mean for real.”

“Don’t call me mean when I’m about to jack you off, Sungie. That’s just ungrateful, don’t you think?” you whisper on his skin, breathing the sweet smell of his body in. Even his sweat kinda smells like beer. That’s disgusting and hot at the same time. Maybe you’re a freak after all.

“Oh. Oh. We’re… we’re doing that? Fuck, yeah. Suuuure, cool.” And then he lets out the nervous squeak he does everytime you’re about to touch him. It doesn’t matter it’s been years, he never gets used to you been enough attracted to him to give him pleasure even if he’s dirty. But, to be fair, Jisung is always kind of dirty.

You smile against his skin and your fingers find his nipple again, rolling it between your pointer and thumb over the fabric of his top. Jisung keens at that and you can feel the goosebumps forming on his arms under you.

“Wanna kiss. Give Sungie kiss first? Can you? Please?” He blubbers while your other hand is caressing just above his navel. He turns his face to look at you, and the angle is weird because he needs to force himself in this position, but his cheeks are flushed and cute, and his eyes so big you can almost see your own reflection in them.

The first kiss on his lips is just a peck, nothing else, and you can feel that Jisung tries, he tries so hard not to be affected too much this early, but as soon as you place your mouth on him and start to nibble lightly at his bottom lip, he lets out a broken whimper. He tastes like alcohol and ketchup, and his teeth are all sticky for the sprite he just chugged. You find yourself forcing his mouth open just after a few seconds just to be able to lick at them, feeling the sugar on the tip of your tongue.

“You’re so filthy, Sungie. You’re delicious.” You tease him a bit while sucking his own wet muscle into your mouth and slowly pulling it between your teeth.

Jisung lets out the quietest yet painful moan, "Ah- please, I just...", and he starts parting his thighs just a little bit, the tiniest movement showing how he is growing hard under his pants.

You look down and he is just the prettiest, all spread out for you.

“Never denied you anything,” you mutter as you scoot forward on the sofa to place a last peck on his lips. They’re a bit chapped, and a drop of blood stains your mouth.

Jisung’s head falls back on your chest, nuzzling between the comfort of your breasts, and he looks wrecked already. His eyes are teary and his vision fuzzy while his lips pucker, as if he was trying to suck on the air.

“Fuck, you’re so cute. Wish you had something on your mouth, uh?” you ask him as your left hand puts and end to the lazy massage on his lower stomach and finally cups him through his pants.

Jisung is fully hard already but, to an untrained eye, the two inches tent his erection is struggling to maintain makes him look like he’s just sporting half of a chub.

“Uh, uh - yeah, w-wanna suck please,” he manages while your hands goes a bit lower to graze his balls. “Please, mama- gimme anything.”

“Oh, Sungie, don’t beg,” you whisper kissing the tender skin of his ear one more time. Jisung’s soft sobs always make you feel lightheaded and needy, but you cannot show him. Not now. “Mama’s gonna give you fingers, mhkay?”

Jisung nods and parts his lips as a pavlovian response to your words, his tongue lolling out diligently out of his mouth. Your pointer and middle finger pinch the fat of his bottom lip and he moans softly at the teasing. When you finally ease your fingers inside of the heath of his mouth, Jisung lets out a weak cry. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” he gurgles around your digits as an indecent amount of spit oozes out and coat your palm.

When you look over his shoulder, you can see the shape of Jisung’s tiny cock angrily pointing at you, still covered by his shorts. The red fabric is somehow already wet because Jisung is always eager and leaky, and what he lacks in size he makes up in liquids.

“How many minutes today, Sungie? How much can you last for mama?” you ask, tone sticky and sweet while you thrust your fingers deeper inside his mouth and brush at the base of his tongue.

Jisung chokes on the pressure and a single tear escapes from his eyes. His cock twitches and you pat it condescendingly. “Aw, poor thing. How much? Two minutes?”

“Uh- mhhf sowy” he hiccups, mouth full of fingers and saliva, “sorry, I’m not..”

You smile and you finally wrap your free hand around his balls, squeezing it. “Don’t worry, baby. Mama gets it. Wanna come already uh?”

Your face finds its way against the crook of his neck and you lick a fat portion of skin, sucking it into your mouth. He tastes like soil, dirt and sweat. But most importantly, it tastes like Jisung. Like fried food and soda, mint cigarettes to cover the smell of unwashed teeth, ingrown hair and blemishes, acne and cum.

You bite on that sensitive spot and he sobs the most pathetic whimper out as your hand slaps his clothed cock once, twice, thrice, and your fingers go deeper and deeper, almost brushing his uvula and making him drown on his own spit.

“So-oh-sorry” he cries as his cock spasms one more time under the constriction of two layers of clothes. His knees shake and he lets out the most loud and sinful noise his voice lets him. His hips tremble with the force of his orgasm and he goes completely limp against you while spurting warm ropes of cum inside of his sweaty underwear. His eyes are glassy and full of tears while he empties himself for what it seems to be a full minute. He always cums more than he lasts anyway.

You hold him close through it as his high washes over him, arm tight around his waist, and you kiss his cheek, savoring the salt on his skin.

After a minute, Jisung turns his head in search of your reassurance, and he finds you already looking at him, your fingers falling out of his mouth to let him breathe properly.

“Well, that was a record” you chuckle at the sight of his goofy smile.

Jisung huffs and rolls his eyes at you. “I said- I said I had a few beers. That’s why.” He tries to justify himself.

You wink at him and you blow a raspberry on his nose. He always try to be the bigger man, but it never works.

“Whatever you say,” you concede. “Go change your underwear now. And take a shower.”

Jisung lazily shakes his head. “Nah. Too tired. Imma do it later.”

“You’re gross, Jisung.”

“And you’re a freak.”

©️jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[rueclfer]

saturdays are for the blondes // fratboy smau part one

a/n: i love my blondies (bakugou's n hawk's will be out later whenever i feel like making those) *also written under the cut*

denki kaminari, katsuki bakugou, hawks

"You in there?" You call out, harshly knocking on the bedroom door over the blasting music still echoing throughout the house.

The door swings open to reveal Denki's flushed face holding a bloody wadded paper towel up to his nose.

"Hey cutie." He nasally squeaks out, stepping out of the way so you could enter. "Came to check in on your knight in shining armor, huh?"

"Hey yourself. Just wanted to admire the damage." You tease, closing the door behind you, muffling out the music.

You follow him to his bathroom where you see multiple others of used paper towels and bloody droplets in the sink, making your stomach turn.

"Looks like a warzone." You grimace. "Let me see." You motion for him to move his hand away his face, revealing a smudged line of dried blood dragged out from his nostril and redness spreading across his nose bridge and into the area right under his eye.

You reached up and grabbed his chin, moving his head side to side to see the damage done.

"How's it looking?" He mutters, looking down at you with a slight smirk on his face.

"The bleeding stopped and it doesn't look broken to me. You may or may not wake up with a black eye, but if you keep it iced you should be fine." You pat the side of his face before dropping your arm. "Your face is still cute, so at least there's that."

"You wanna kiss it better?" He takes a step closer to you, leaning in to let his arms stretch out against the bathroom sink, trapping you in on both sides.

You two were at eye level now, faces only inches away from one another. With his backwards baseball cap and his messy blonde hair peeking out from the front, cropped t-shirt, and alcohol running through your system, his offer was tempting.

"You think you'll survive if I don't?" You laugh as the heat rises up to your ears.

"No, I don't think so. You've been avoiding me all night too, so my feelings are wounded too." He fake pouts.

"So sensitive, pres." You teasingly coo, darting your eyes to avoid his lidded stare. "I guess I do kinda owe you, don't I?"

"Mmhm." He hums in agreement, moving his hand from the bathroom counter to your lower waist, playing with the hem of your shirt. "Only if you want to, of course. I can always catch another beating for you at the next party.

"I'm still gonna be on the invite list after that? You must really like me."

"V.I.P. list and everything, baby. I'll fight a million more guys and take a million more beatings for you." He chuckles.

"You really do know how to swoon me, huh?" You bring your hand up to his cheek, brushing your thumb over the tender area darkening and swelling with every minute.

"Even when you love playing hard-to-get." He mumbles, reaching his hand up to the side of your neck as you lean in to softly kiss the bruise. "I know you better than anyone."

"You piss me off more than anyone else, too." You mutter against the soft flesh of his cheek.

"That's just the fun of it." He moves his hand down to his chain hanging from your neck, letting a finger loop onto the end of it, pulling your body in closer. "Sleepover tonight?"

"Nope." You popped the 'p'. "The girls are waiting for me downstairs to walk back to our apartment."

"Boo." He whines. "When can I see you next?"

"I dunno. The next function?" You shrug, reaching around the back of your neck for the necklace clasp. "You can have this back too."

"Wait no no." He grabs your hand away. "Keep it and give it to me next time. Please."

You sigh with a hint of a smile on your lips, dropping your arms. "See you next time then, pres."

"Next time, sweetheart."

[star-stilinski]

stiles with virgin reader? maybe she's like insecure or like is just scared he'll look at her differently 😩😩 everytime i watch the eichen house basement scene i literally die because he is so sweet and gentle and GHRHHSHEHDH

okay so i actually have that written from before i deleted my blog... would you guys want me to write another?! i'll repost the one i have but this concept is really super fun to me and i like writing it a lot so... maybe you guys would want to see more?? anyway here's the old one!

☆

yep, stiles is perfect. dominant, but just to guide you. observant and overly educated (he once spent an all nighter researching female pleasure and orgasms. he stayed a virgin for a long time after, but at least he knew!). he wants you to feel good.

i feel like he had a conversation with allison once when she was really frustrated with scott where she basically ranted about how he was great in bed, really, but he sometimes got too excited and forgot about her until later. or his wearwolfness made him a bit rough. stiles just kinda stood there, but he was determined to keep that from being his reviews when he finally got laid. it was very educational.

set right before season 4.

you're reading up on the spanish mafia on your bed while stiles types away on his computer with one hand and breaks to texts scott with the other. he seems to be especially stimulated today.

"i think my excuse will be that we're camping." he mumbles randomly, setting his phone down face-up to take a swig from your water bottle. you frown. he smiles. "when we go get derek."

"for your dad?" you set the library book on the floor and scoot up on your bed, sitting back against the pillows.

"yeah. he's all worried i'm isolating myself after... everything. so he'll like that anyway. hey, scott invited us to the lake later tonight, wanna go?" your boyfriend talks so quick you almost get dizzy. that subject change was so stiles though, and seeing him as himself after those worrying days of the possessed, zombie-eyed shell of a man he was makes your chest feel fuzzy.

but at the mention of swimming, you glance away from him. you hadn’t been feeling super awesome about your body lately. It’s just… stiles is amazing, really, but he never says much about your looks and you’re scared he’s not into that part of you. It’s not like you need to be constantly hit on, but knowing that he wanted you in every way would be… well, it would make you feel better than you do.

so you hesitate, at the thought of being in a swimsuit in front of everyone. “uh, i dunno, i have a lot of homework.”

he laughs and his eyebrows shoot up. "what? we got ahead on, like, everything. did you fall behind again?”

"okay, first off, we did not get ahead on everything. we did everything due this week. you’re just used to waiting until the night before to rush through. second of all, i’m not really feeling the lake right now.”

“why not?” he frowns, tilting his head at you. you roll your neck and sigh, wishing you hadn’t said anything. It was so annoying to try and explain it.

“i mean…” you shift uncomfortably on your bed. “i don’t know. i’m just feeling weird lately.”

stiles stands, grabbing a stray pen to fiddle with as he stretches his legs, pacing your bedroom floor. "yeah, that's what you say, don't you? that you’re feeling ‘weird’.”

"you're weird." you deflect, watching him pace. he likes it when you do that, you both realized one day a long time ago when his hair was buzzed and you had braces. a lot has changed since then, but he still liked to know that you’re listening when he has to move around.

"and yet here you sit, after inviting me over to listen to me ramble." he teases back, throwing you a look before turning to walk the other side of the floor. he scans the pictures and posters on your wall, back turned to you. "seems like my weird is good weird and yours is bad weird."

you're thankful he isn't watching as you flush a light pink color in the cheeks. it's the stupidest stuff getting you flustered recently. the other day he said 'atta girl' to you and you were still blushing ten minutes later. kira actually thought you were sick. 

you know why. Part of you just wants to ask him, but a larger part of you assumes that -even as his girlfriend- he’ll be grossed out if you asked to have sex. He’s just not into you like that.

stiles swivels around to look at you, frowning curiously. "you went quiet."

"oh, um," you shift on the bed and fiddle with the hem of your shirt. he watches you do so with a look on his face before stepping closer to the edge of the bed while you scramble to remember what you were talking about. "your weird is tolerable weird."

he smirks and scoffs but it's kind of a laugh, one that makes your stomach swoop pleasantly. "what makes yours bad weird?"

"it’s nothing, sti’.” you fiddle with one of your stuffed animals, growing antsy under his gaze. “just thoughts.”

you feel the bed dip beside you as stiles sits, feeling his shoulder brush with yours. there's plenty of room on the bed. you know he did it on purpose.

"i like to know your thoughts.”

"yeah, well, sometimes i prefer to keep them in my head." you huff, still not looking at him. “and anyway, they’re just-”

"weird?" he interrupts and you look up at him. he's smirking, brows up, eyes sparkly.

you frown at his cockiness. you were going to say weird, but still. you can hear him silently asking you to elaborate.

"you’re not allowed to get all pitying, okay?" you feel yourself about to spill anyway, so you might as well tell him. it would usually take a lot more encouragement for you to say anything, but it's stiles and he's using his stupid pretty eyes on you and you trust him with your life. “lately i just feel kinda… just like, um, not great, i guess? i’m just scared i’m not doing enough for you, or something’s wrong with me because you never say anything about my looks and i dont need you to, but if you’re unsatisfied i want to change that because i want you to be happy in every area to do with me.”

stiles is silent for a moment. you look up and catch him look away from you. he frowns and looks back, meeting your gaze head on.

"that's not weird.” he says, quietly, brows upturned. “you… wow, you’re dense.”

you laugh abruptly at the jab stiles pulled, embarrassed. "stiles! I’m not upset or anything, i just dont want you to not be into the way i look. which might be unrealistic, i guess. not everyone is going to be physically attracted to me. that's fine."

"you say that a lot." his tone drops to something more thoughtful. you give him a face and tilt your head.

"what? no i don't."

"yeah, you do. 'oh, well, lydia's the beauty out of all of us anyway.' 'malia, you should dance with kira to blend in. that would be casual and guys will find you two hot, anyway.' 'that isn't my color.' 'i'm breaking out.' 'i'm bloated.' 'i don't think anyone would want to see me in something that revealing.'"

you feel heat crawl up your neck as he quotes stuff you've said the past few weeks. you scramble to make him wrong. "stiles, literally all of those were different sentences."

"no, they were not." he shifts, like he's revving up to explain something. you press yourself against the pillows to create space between you two. he notices. "you keep saying you think you're ugly. just the other day, a girl you didn't even know came up to you and said you were pretty and when she walked away you said she was lying. i remember, you were convinced. thought it was just to be nice because you had let her cut you in line for drinks. it was at the movies."

you look away from him, narrowing your eyes. you're embarrassed right now, and he knows. why isn't he stopping? "she was lying, stiles. you're a guy, you can't see that stuff like girls do."

"i'm a guy, i'm not blind." he gets hotter in his voice. both in tone and in attractiveness, getting sterner. saying 'i'm right' without saying it. "are you blind? you're so pretty. like, objectively."

"stiles, can you drop this? I shouldn’t have said anything." you curl in on yourself, drawing your knees up to hide your body. you feel so exposed, like he tugged the part of you out that you don't really like to talk about.

stiles goes soft. like a flip being switched, he loses his fight and shifts to face you better, placing a hand on your knee. "hey, i'm sorry."

you desperately want to go back to when he was a safe distance away and pacing your room and teasing you. you hate it when you ruin the mood with your feelings. you hate how much you love it when he touches you, especially since he'd never want you the way that you want him.

"it's fine, i promise." you claw around your brain for something to change the subject, but you feel it short circuit as stiles' hand begins to hold your cheek. he lifts your chin to look at him. you feel your cheeks flame hot and your whole body warm at his touch. you stare at him as you feel your resolve practically melt away.

"do you think you're pretty?" he asks, curiously. like you're something he doesn't fully understand yet, but he's on his way and he's getting excited to speed up the process. it makes you nervous.

"umm... i don't know..." you don't think so. you're very confident that you're ugly. but telling stiles that is letting him win. and you don't know what you'll do with a cocky stiles when he's already ballsy enough to corner you like he is now.

"i do." he says with finality. stiles gets closer and his hand leaves your cheek, only to part your legs gently and crawl in between them. "i think you’re hot. and pretty. and when you focus you nibble your lip and it kinda makes me want to pin you to the nearest flat surface and eat you out.”

now your legs are on either side of stiles and he's leaning over you, eyes roaming over your face hungrily. you stutter dumbly for a moment, face flushed and feeling like a cornered bunny getting stared down by a wolf. his scent becomes stronger and you resist the urge to ask him to do just that, opting instead for feeling like a gross creep and fretting if you’ve shaved well enough.

"you don’t have to say that..." you trail off, still flustered at stiles' boldness. "i just didn't really know what you thought about my looks, i guess. b-but i guess that’s kinda conceited, huh?" you laugh weakly at your joke. stiles doesn't laugh at all. instead, he watches you quietly for a moment, a hand landing on your knee again.

"i don’t say anything because i never want you to feel uncomfortable." he states breathily. you squirm under him as he leans forward, a determined look in his eyes. “do you want me to tell you what i think about you?”

"stiles, c'mon." you turn your head away. maybe you can resist this question by acting pathetic. it's not really working, and stiles just gently guides your chin so that you're looking at him again. he knows the answer. he kinda has to, doesn't he? otherwise he wouldn't be doing this.

"I want to hear you say it." he looks into your eyes like it would actually literally kill him if you said no. you feel that rush you get when he talks like this, all quiet and deep like he's breathless. and despite you thinking that stiles thought of you as a low-physicality girlfriend, you find yourself nodding slightly.

"yes, i do."

stiles sighs out like you just healed every one of his wounds and leans forward, shifting himself so that he's propped on his hands and knees above you. one hand moves to your waist and the other holds his weight as he leans down.

the kiss sends a spark down your spine. as he goes back in again, kissing you harder, deeper, gently guiding your mouth open, you think it's better than any other kiss you've experienced. his hand inches your shirt up to reveal your stomach and he pulls back.

"you're beautiful. okay? i feel like you're not hearing me. i want you to see it." he says, still upset about that. you're still a bit flustered by the quick change of events, so you don’t respond.

he frowns at your lack of response but it softens as your hands slide onto his neck, pulling him down again. he smiles and goes back in for another kiss.

this one's even more than the last. stiles' tongue... well, it works. that's all you can describe as he makes you gasp in surprised pleasure from just a kiss. you can feel his slightly cocky smirk as he kisses again, but it gets lost when you rake your nails lightly against the back of his neck. he manuvers you both further down the bed so you're laying more comfotably and kisses you deeply again, like he can't get enough. 

he presses his knee up against your core as you kiss and it sends a pulse of pleasure up your body, making you pinch your brows. stiles pulls back abruptly, and you're both panting. you can see your spit making his lips glisten prettily and you want to hide under the covers and pull him back into you at the same time.

"hey," stiles dawns a little smile. it's sweet, and when he tugs at the hem of your shirt gently your heart flutters. "can i take this off?"

you pause at that. if he takes your shirt off, he'll have to see you shirtless. you didn't wear a nice bra today, just the grey t-shirt bra you got at walmart. but he wants to see you shirtless. and you want to see him shirtless.

then again, you’re no pornstar-level body. maybe stiles will be disappointed. or laugh. no, no, he won’t laugh. but if he doesn’t like it, he won’t say anything, and you’ll be stuck wondering what he’s thinking again...

"i can hear you overthinking, you know." stiles' big palm lands on your bare waist, his thumb rubbing your skin softly. "we can stop if you want."

you meet his eyes. he looks like he really means it, like he'll pretend none of this happened if you asked. his hand leaves your waist, cups your cheek, and his thumb presses against your bottom lip softly. you breathe in. "i don't want to stop."

he nods, smiling. it's crooked and you almost giggle because of course stiles is excited to keep making out. and then his gaze shifts and he takes his hand off your cheek to tug on your shirt again. his brows lift in question.

"uhm, yeah." you nibble your lip. fuck it. "take it off."

"that was not enthusiastic enough."

"i-?! don't blame me if you don't like what you see! i just don't want you to be unimpressed!" you squeak defensively. he laughs and pulls you up just enough to lift your shirt off.

"you can be so obtuse sometimes." he mumbles as he tosses your shirt out of the way. you're propped up on your forearms when he turns back around and you can practically hear the breaks in his brain screech to a halt.

his eyes roam your body in a way that makes you flush and his hands aren't much better, spreading over your now-exposed middle like they have a mind of their own. he lets out a breath and blinks a few times, one hand sliding up to cup your bra. “s’ this okay?”

you swallow and nod. it is. really. you like the way stiles’ hands feel on you and how his eyes track over you like he wants to devour you but doesn’t want to hurt you. you like how eager he is to touch you. it makes you feel like maybe he really wants to.

he leans over you and presses a kiss to your neck. you tilt your head back on instinct as he grows more persistent, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and nibbling your neck to pull a sound out of you. you gasp when he nibbles your earlobe and he reacts positively, hands getting more confident as he cups your breasts or you waist or whatever he can get ahold of.

you feel him press his knee up against you again and it makes you jolt momentarily. your thoughts are getting hazier, you feel yourself relaxing every second you spend underneath him. his hand travels up your back and finds your bra clasp and he kisses down your collarbone as he undoes it.

“you’re so pretty.” he starts, pulling back. you blink up at him as he sits over you. “you are, I don’t care what you think. I can’t believe you’re so convinced otherwise.”

he pauses, giving you time to reject him or tell him to stop or do anything. instead, you tug at his shirt, pulling it up.

he takes it off immediately and you press your hands against his bare skin. “stiles, i’ve never done anything before. I’m not gonna be good.”

he scoffs and shakes his head, toying with your loose bra strap. it’s still on, unclasped. he’s waiting.

“you’re doing so good right now, idiot.” he hums affectionately as he traces the seam of your bra, fingers brushing your breast. you suck in a breath. he watches your chest rise. “i’ve, um, thought about this before. a lot. and it’s ten times better having you under me than daydreaming about it.”

you blush at that. he traces the underside of your breast, fingers slipping under your bra to feel your skin. “I want to make you feel good.” he whispers, meeting your eyes. you nod slowly, fingers running along his abdomen as you admire him.

“you do?” you ask, as if he wasn’t practically pinning you to the bed already. he nods eagerly and it spurs you on. you shift, slowly pulling your bra off. he helps you and tosses it away with your shirt, but his eyes never leave you. instead, they dart all over your chest, hands cupping your tits. he sighs and his thumbs swipe over your pebbling nipples, making you squeak in shock.

“you’re so beautiful. ‘m gonna make you believe it, okay?” he says with finality, maneuvering so that he can kiss your breasts. you gasp when his tongue flicks over your nipple and he pulls up just to envelop your mouth. “you sound so pretty. just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

you’re embarrassed at how easy it is for you to make noise and how eager you are to listen to his instructions. you sink into the pillows and let your eyes flutter shut as stiles kisses you. it's soft and slow, but it makes you a puddle anyway.

stiles gets the both of you down to your underwear shortly after. his hands are incessantly gentle and when he does something new he leaves a sort of gap for you to tell him to stop.

you never do.

he's mouthing at your neck when he first presses his long fingers against your clothed clit, and you sigh lightly in relief. the pressure was more than enough and you had completely soaked through your panties anyway. he pulls away from your neck to watch you as he rubs a slow circle against your nerves, humming in approval when your lips part and your brows pinch.

"does that feel good?" he questions quietly, still rolling a circle against you with his middle finger. you nod and hear him swallow as his eyes roam from your exposed tits to your wet spot and everywhere in between, locking eyes with you at the end.

"i can't wait to hear you. you're gonna sound so good." he mumbles, mostly to himself as he slowly pulls your panties off. you whine in embarrassment and cover your face with your hand.

"don't say stuff like that!" you huff, scrubbing your face like it will make the blushing subside. "you're getting your hopes up."

"jesus christ." he groans, and it sounds super fucking hot. you peek through your fingers and see him looking at you like you've wounded him. "you've exceeded every single one of my very high hopes i've been getting off to since freshman year so far. you-i mean, look at what you're doing to me."

he gently takes the hand you're using to cover your face and guides it against his bulge. he's hard as a rock, and when you press your hand against him he tilts his head back and sighs out. "seriously, you're so gorgeous. and you're a great kisser. you're doing so good. i mean..."

with your panties off and him in between your legs, he has easy access as he slides two fingers through your slick. you can both hear it in the quiet of the room and you feel that heat rush of embarrassment again, eyes widening as he literally moans. "you're so wet. just for me."

and as he presses his finger to your clit, it feels ten times better than it did with your panties on. you gasp and your eyes flutter closed as you whimper "god," completely on accident. his hands aren't amazingly skillful, but the way he watches your reactions and tweaks his performance, fucking a finger into you and keeping his pace on your bundle of nerves-it's almost hotter than a guy who isn't looking to improve, because stiles is adjusting things to your preference. not just what every woman would generally like.

"how's it feel, pretty girl?" he hums against your stomach, kissing down your body. you don't know what the hell he's doing but most of your mental focus is on how stiles is making you feel, anyway.

"feels good, sti'," you gasp, feeling his mouth against your thigh. he moans when you say his name before sucking a hickey onto your inner thigh. your eyes snap open and you prop yourself up to look at him, eyes wide. "are you leaving a mark?"

stiles looks up at you, and then at your neck, and then your tits. he pulls away from your skin slowly and mumbles "uhm..."

"whatever, just... don't make it ugly. hickeys can look so weird." you flop back against the pillows and sigh, but your thoughts are cut short as stiles-

"oh, fuck," you moan, rolling your hips against stiles' tongue unconsciously as he presses his mouth on your clit. he flicks his tongue and you gasp out another moan, hips lifting.

his big hands land on your bare hips and press them back down, holding them there as he looks up at you. meanwhile, his tongue is laying claim on you in a way no one ever has, and he's making you feel better than you ever have. you sit up on your forearms to watch him and he sucks on your clit, making your eyes roll back. "stiles, oh god, that feels really good-"

he moans at your noises, mouth moving with more fervor against you, hands pulling you closer to him. he's doing everything perfectly, or so you thought, until he pulls a hand away from your hip and presses two fingers inside of you. it's a stretch, but it feels amazing, and your brain is fried as you feel yourself hurtling towards that edge-

and then he pulls back.

you look down at the speed of light, glaring at him on accident. "wha-? why-?"

his eyes are dark, something you haven't seen in them before. his mouth is covered in your arousal and he's sitting up, leaning over you. "i really want you to finish with me inside you. does... is that...?"

your previous annoyance falls away and you bob your head enthusiastically. "yeah. yes. please."

he grins and licks some of your slick off of his lips before kissing you sweetly. when he pulls back, you look down to take his boxers off but realize he took them off already. you also realize you've never seen stiles' dick before.

"your staring is making me nervous." he teases, rubbing your thigh. you blink and look back up at him, smiling sheepishly. he smiles back, and it's crooked, and he's tilting his head and panting and sometimes his eyes are wandering to your tits before snapping back up to your eyes. and.

"you're the hottest guy in the whole world, i think." you hum, reaching up to cup his cheek. his eyes go wide and he laughs, kissing your palm.

"is my dick that big?"

"not what i meant."

"it could be."

you laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. "'s it gonna hurt?"

his eyes go soft, a bit worried. "proabably for a second, but we'll go at your pace so you can stretch out properly, and if it's too much i can just finish the way i started, kay?"

you nod. stiles would never, ever hurt you. and with the way he's looking at you and how he moans when you feel good and how his hands always have to find a way to pleasure you... something in you switches and you realize he really wants you to like this. that he's being honest when he says he's thought about it a lot.

so as he quickly rolls on a condom (which included him admitting that he usually grabs one before he leaves to see you) and presses into you -slowly, slowly- you try your best to relax against the pillows. it's not unbearable, but you have to ask him to pause sometimes. he always does, and layers praises on top of each other while he does it.

"you're doing so well. just breathe, okay? just like that. holy shit, you feel amazing- b-but how do you feel? you alright?" he rambles halfway inside. you nod, breathing deeply.

"it actually feels... good..." you close your eyes and pull on his waist, urging him forward slowly. he bottoms our and gasps out a moan at the same time you do, feeling him reach the spot you're never able to. his hand snakes in between the two of you and presses against your clit. you gasp out his name, tilting your head back. it's almost too much.

almost.

as you urge him to move, he presses slow circles against your bundle of nerves and kisses any patch of your bare skin he can get ahold of.

"just relax, baby- fuck, god, you know how may times i've thought about this?" he pulls out slowly and pushes back in, and all of his stimulating mixed with his moans and his words... he's doing a good fucking job, that's for sure.

you moan when he moves a little quicker, gasping. he presses his tongue into your open mouth and kisses you sloppily, going a bit faster with every thrust. you whine when he flicks your clit almost crudely, pressing your head back against the mattress and gasping, "faster, sti'"

he obeys without further encouragement, snapping his hips a little quicker than comfortable. you feel your body adjust and watch stiles as he leans back to admire you.

his eyes rake over you, one hand cupping your breast and kneading it softly. he lets out a higher pitched moan than you've heard from him when he sees the point where your bodies connect, slowing his thrusts just to watch. "you're perfect, i swear to god."

you can't respond, not when he's already leaning down to overstimulate your nipples. your brain feels like it's in the other room and has been replaced with stiles' hands, almost solely focused on his kneading of your tits and his circling of your clit. his mouth makes its way back up your neck and he kisses you again, still with very little concern for the proprieties of it.

it's sudden, the feeling that crawls up on you as his hips snap quicker and praise falls from his mouth in between kisses. you gasp for air and tug his head back by pulling his hair, causing a loud moan from him that you'll have to unpack later. you're arching your back, whimpering "faster, faster," squeezing your eyes shut as you feel that sweet release low in your belly. he speeds up his hips, but more importantly his fingers on your clit. your vision goes white for a split second as you cry out, chanting his name like a prayer. you hear him moaning too, and it only helps you as he rides you through your orgasm.

"holy shit," you gasp as you come down. he nods, pulling out of you carefully, and you both lock eyes. you're smiling and he's kissing you and everything feels kind of perfect for a split second. then you remember him, and feel like an idiot. "oh, did you, i totally forgot, did you-"

"don't worry," he laughs sheepishly and glances away from you. "i did. it was, um, when you pulled me away from kissing you."

"when i pulled your hair?" you ask incredulously. he buries his face into your neck and groans.

"maybe we should focus on you again." he kisses up your neck and all over your face. "you did so good, you're so perfect and pretty and oh my god you thought i wasn't attracted to you. you're so out of it sometimes."

"stop insulting me! you never said anything!" you defend, slapping his shoulder. he laughs and cups your face.

"i'm going to say every thought i have now. okay?"

"i feel like this isn't going to end well..."

he grins mischievously. "you look so good when you're cumming. let me make you make that face again?"

you close your eyes and sigh. "yeah, i knew it. this is going to be the death of me."

he laughs, loudly, excitedly, and kisses you. "it's funny how you think death will help. i bet you'd be a sexy ghost. oh, fuck, now i'm thinking about that. yep, it's hot."

you shout and push him off of you, laughing.

☆

when i wrote this originally, i wasn't super happy with it. even now i'm like... ehhh.... i dunno.... so if you guys want more of stiles with virgin/inexperienced reader, i have a lot of ideas and would totally post some if given the 'okay' from my fellow stiles lovers! let me know!!

(please say you want more because i want to make more lowkey tho just lowkey like idec but please)

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Come on, aren't you just in love with them?" Sophia asked her boyfriend, Matt.

"Jesus, how much do those things weigh now?"

Sophia shrugged casually. "I dunno. A lot? Probably thirty pounds each, wanna weigh them?"

"Sure..... maybe later. You know, you don't have to keep doing this, Sophia. They're plenty big."

"Awwww, don't pretend to feel bad for me! I'm your girlfriend, it's my job to please you!"

"I appreciate it..... but don't you think you're taking this a bit far?"

Sophia giggled in a way that made it seem like she took this as a challenge. "You get so timid when your boyish little fantasies get exposed..... I saw all that porn on your laptop. Every other girl you jerk it to is some Influencer who grew out their boobs so much their spines snapped and they legit end up paralyzed from the shoulders down. The girls wear it like a badge of honor. I was so shocked to hear them talk so casually about their bodies being numb, not feeling their pussies, not being able to cum all because they grew such colossal boobs..... They act like it's the pinnacle of sexual appeal to be completely helpless, buried under a gigantic pair of boobs they can't even feel, only able to watch as men fuck them, encouraging them to have fun with their paralyzed bodies and not hold back. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Sophie, you know I'd never ask that of you. Your career...."

"Being a therapist? Uh, duh, I can still do that over Zoom or Snapchat. Or my patients can come to me, trapped in bed, naked. I'll have to warn them not to mind my ponderous, 200lb-breasts. They're for my boyfriend, just try to ignore them! Or..... if men have pent up frustration, it might be a great way to get some of that anger and trauma out on what will amount to a pair of massive, fatty punching bags. I think that'll be an excellent option for my patients. Of course, I'll at least still be able to suck your cock and taste your cum, that'll be all I need--honest! And if you don't mind I can reward my clients by sucking their cocks, if they like...... this might be fun for the both of us after all!"

"Jesus, you're seriously committed to this?"

Sophia groped her oversized breasts, which were a D-Cup when they started dating only six months ago. "What gave it away? So, are you done pretending you don't want me to grow a pair of the biggest, heaviest, back-breaking tits you've ever seen?"

"Shit..... you are such a freak, I could marry a girl like you....."

"Down boy. Let's wait til my spine snaps! I'll look so much better getting wheeled down the aisle, my boobs well over 100lbs, wearing only a garter belt and veil, ooooo, maybe you can put huge hoops rings through my nipples at the altar? Not like I'll feel you piercing them. Won't that be fun?"

"Nothing would make me happier than to show your rich, snobby family what a good, obedient girl you turned out to be."

Sophia smiled, running over to kiss Matt, squishing her hefty breasts against his chest. Feeling that made both of them realize that although her breasts were absurdly large now, they were ultimately tiny compared to what they'd look like in another year or two.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Love Game II

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You, Leon, in his bedroom. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children), p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms (f receiving), hair pulling, minor choking, creampie, praising, soft!dom!leon, Leon has kinda of an innocence kink, parent/teacher dynamic, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, foul language

WC: 4.4k

A/N: yay I made it past the 2 part mark for a "series" how exciting. I hope I can post this in peace. For anyone that cared enough to want more parts, here we are. There's some more in the works. What do we say? Do we want to see this second date and leon being dumb and in love? Dunno when those will come out but, for now here's this.

Part I | Universe Masterlist

Were you really driving halfway across town to get laid?

Absolutely. 

Leon didn't even have to ask you twice. It wasn't like you had much going on anyway. And you really wanted to see him.

You made it three, maybe four feet into his apartment, enough for you to take a look at him. Hair wet like he had just taken a shower, shirtless, and only a pair of pajama pants hung from his hips. That man was without a doubt, trying to drive you insane. Though you had concluded you were in fact insane, the second you said yes to going out with him. 

"Hi." You stood in front of him, the scent of his body wash taking you in. A mixture of light bourbon and vanilla. It wasn't overbearing, but it was definitely intoxicating. That, or you were already drunk on the thought of him.

"Hi." His lips irked up and he leaned down, lips barely brushing over yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair. "I really wanted to see you again." 

You were in his bedroom in record time. Somehow in between hushed laughs and messy kisses, always doing your best to stay quiet. But ultimately, he closed the door behind you, his body pressing you against it as he kissed you.

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both. 

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?" 

Your jaw hung agape, a sharp shudder leaving your lips at his words laced with confidence and dominance. Christ, the things this man made you feel. You felt like you would have slipped right onto the floor had he not been pressing you against the door with his body. It took a long hard look from the ocean of blue that were his eyes for you to even speak. 

"I.. Yeah. I'll be quiet. I just.." You swallowed, lip quivering with anticipation, your hands landing flat against his chest, attempting to grip at something other the hairs across his chest. "I need you, please."

Leon watched you ever so amused, flashes of lust and need overcoming his otherwise stoic eyes. And his lips irked up with malice. 

"You sweet girl," He gripped your chin between two fingers, tilting your head ever so slightly to look over your pretty face. The need to see this face covered in tears as you begged him to come overcame his rational mind. All he could think about was ruining you. "How is it possible for such a pretty and innocent looking thing to ever be so needy?" 

"You. You do this to me. I've never—" You wetted your dry lips, a wave of heat flashing between your thighs as your voice died in your throat. 

I've never wanted to be ruined by someone. 

I've never wanted to be fucked into nothing. 

Until I met you. 

The words never left your lips, though. All you could do was look at him with those pleading eyes of yours, hoping he would understand. 

And fuck, did he understand. 

His mouth was on yours without another word being spoken. You were more than eager to let him take over. His hands guided you carefully through his bedroom as his lips did with yours as he pleased. He sucked, pulled, and bit all he wanted. And the sounds that would sit in your throat every time he did so only made him all the more eager to have you on his bed. 

Your feet were no longer on the floor, and your back hit something soft and warm. With a soft gasp you landed on your back and his body encased you under him. His lips once again found your neck, making work of your skin as his hands fell down your body. He forced your hips off the mattress long enough to push your sweatpants and panties down your hips. You kicked them down the rest of the way with a shiver, watching through half lidded eyes as he lifted his body up enough to settle beside you. Your eyes followed him with confusion, for a moment forgetting about the cold air now settling between your thighs. 

"You, Miss, are going to keep your legs wide open for me, okay?" A large hand fell on your thigh, fingers digging into the tender skin for a second before he pulled your legs as far apart as they went. You gasped, unconsciously flinching at the cold air. Leon slightly narrowed his eyes at you. "I remember you like to squirm, and close your legs. But these better stay open, or I will fingerfuck you until you cry. Understood?" 

Your lips parted, but you simply nodded, not saying any words out loud. 

"Use your words baby, I know you can." 

You breathed out a shudder, "Yes, I.. I understand." 

Leon flashed you a pleased smile as he positioned himself on his side, his chest pressed against your shoulder and he used his legs to trap one of yours, making sure they stayed open. He didn't trust your self-control very much right now. 

"That's a good girl." He leaned down, his lips pulling your own into a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was heated and it was fucking messy. But it was enough to distract you from where his hand was about to go. 

His lips parted from yours just enough to leave room for him to spit into his fingers, before his lips were back on yours. Your mouth didn't stay open long though, for the second his fingers grazed your already sensitive clit, you gasped. His lips curved up, his nose brushing against yours as he rubbed slow circles around the nub. It was slow, agonizing, but fuck, it felt so good. 

"Oh my—" the words fell from your lips in a quiet whimper, your head falling to the side into Leon's chest as you attempted to quiet yourself, but the longer his fingers worked you the stronger the ache in your stomach became. "Fuck, Leon." 

"I know, sweetheart. You're so wet for me. Is this what you wanted me to do to you earlier? Finger you wide open in your bathtub?" He spoke into your ear, his voice was raspy and so full of arousal with each word he said. 

You tried to respond, but when you felt two long fingers slip into your wet cunt all you could do was scream. You weren't sure just how muffled the sound was but Leon didn't say anything about it. He definitely heard you, but that only made him want to work his fingers harder. He loved the sound of it, too, the lewd sound of his palm slapping against your wet cunt each time he snapped his wrist. It was his favorite sound— after your moans, of course. 

"Shit. Shit. Leon— a-ah—" Your voice was broken as you weakly grinded against his palm, but his fingers were buried so deep already all you could was desperately chase with your hips. Leon only found this all the more arousing. 

"Mhmm, yeah, just like that. Fuck yourself on my hand just like that. You look so goddamn pretty." He spat, watching as he curled his fingers against that one spot that made your squirm. The sight of you, pathetically grinding against his hand as you weakly attempted to stay quiet shot straight to his cock. 

He needed to fuck you so goddamn bad. But he needed to focus. He could be selfish after. 

"Shit, baby, look at yourself. I don't think I've ever seen a more perfect sight." He made you watch, his free hand fisted around the roots of your hair and he held your head in place to watch as he slid his fingers in and out of your soaked cunt. His hand as well as your thighs were glistening with your slick.

The sight was absolutely filthy, the sound more so. But fuck that only made you want to come even more. You couldn't help it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mouth fell open in a silent cry, the wind-up in your belly getting tighter and tighter. 

"Please. Please Leon. I'm gonna come. I think I'm gonna come." The words came out in parts, high-pitched and in between pants. 

Leon bit his lip, feeling the tightness of your walls around his fingers and he hummed, letting go of your hair to clasp a large hand over your mouth. He was shifting his weight more on his side, and he slammed his fingers so hard and so deep his palm rutted against your clit. He was a smart man. The cry you would have let out then would have woken up anyone in that apartment, or next to it. 

"Let go for me, pretty, I got you." His fingers left your hole to rub harsh circles on your clit, his fingers so wet he didn't even have to spit on them again. 

Though, he did surprise himself with how fast he had started to learn your body, because the second that wave of blinding heat hit you, you were squirming on that mattress like you wanted to run away. He, admittedly selfishly so, slightly ground his own hips against your leg as he fingered you through your orgasm. He could only handle so much with the sounds you had been making and how you oh so desperately wanted to come. 

He watched your face, teeth digging marks into his bottom lip as his fingers slowly stopped their rhythm. Only when you couldn't take it anymore and you attempted to squirm away from him, that was. 

"You did so good, baby." His lips replaced his hand with a much gentle kiss. He pulled back as he sat up, slipping his coated fingers past his lips in the process. "You taste really fucking good, too." 

This man was going to be the fucking death of you. 

You breathed out long pants, your forearm over your forehead as you tried to bring yourself back down to earth. You watched him shuffle around a bit. Until he was once again above you, his massive arms caging your head. 

"You okay, pretty?" He ran a careful hand over your face, looking you over with tenderness. It warmed your heart just how gentle he could be after absolutely wrecking you. 

"Uh huh. I'm perfect." You gave him a lazy smile, throwing your arms around his neck to hold him closer. "Are you going to fuck me now, handsome?" 

Leon looked at you with surprise at your shot of confidence, but the look in your eyes was of need. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he tugged his pijama pants down his hips, kicking them off the rest of the way somewhere to join yours. Your sweatshirt was next, and Leon was more than pleased to find you bare under it. 

"Just the way you deserve, pretty girl." He pressed a long, hard kiss to your lips before he sat back on his knees. 

Your legs hung lazily over his hips, completely at his mercy as he slowly rubbed himself through your folds, covering himself in your slick. Your lips fell open into a soft whimper. Leon shot you a small grin, his blue eyes filled with a wave of lust not once leaving your face as he slowly slid into you. His own lips parted and a grunt fell from them as your walls took him in. It was intoxicating. He was fucking addicted to it. 

"Goddamn baby, you take me so well." He sighed out, grinding his hips ever so slightly, enough to make you whine. 

"Leon, please. Just take me." You whined, slightly grinding your hips to give yourself some relief. He tilted his head at you, both hands gripping your hips with a tight grip. 

"Why are we so needy today, hm?" He teased, lazily dragging his cock in and out, not stopping but also not giving you what you wanted. 

"Ugh— you! You do this to me." You all but shouted at him, instantly regretting your volume and you swallowed hard at the glare he shot you. 

"I swear to God if you woke up my daughter." He groaned and leaned down, picking up his pace without a warning. "I am so going to fuck this attitude out of you." 

Any and all witty comebacks you could have come up with then were lost the second he started to drill into you, the angle making you feel the little hairs at the base of his cock brush against your clit with each snap of his hips. Your body would have slid back and forth on the mattress had it not been for the tight grip he kept on your hips. You were sure you were going to have his fingers printed on your skin in the morning. But God, you didn't care at all. 

"Shit— shit Leon— you feel so—" You whined into the air, your head falling to the side to muffle your cries on one of his pillows.

"Feels good, baby?" He gave you a particular deep thrust that made you slide up the mattress and you nodded harshly. "Yeah?" 

"More—" You breathed out, mindlessly reaching for him, only finding his wrist. 

Leon bit his already puffy red lip, long strands of hair falling over his forehead as he moved above you, his body now hovering over yours. Your knees were now damn near next to your head as he kept fucking you into the mattress. The new angle made you see fucking heaven now. 

"Like that?" 

You barely missed his words entirely, you were so drunk on the feeling of his cock, on his scent now mixed with your own. You didn't know many things, but of one thing you were certain, you could never get enough of this man. 

"Yes, yes, yes." You chanted into the air, almost delirious, like a praise only meant for his ears. 

Leon grunted softly, leaning down to brush hid nose against yours. He spoke words of praise so quiet you would have missed them had he not been so close. Your hands were on his face, barely holding on to him for dear life. His lips found your wrist, then your palm and in an instant one of his hands gathered both of yours, pinning them both above your head. You were absolutely helpless and at his mercy. And you wouldn't want it any other way. 

"Are you gonna come for me, pretty girl?" He slurred the words against your cheek, his cock buried so deep it was only a matter of time before you fell apart. You gave him a half nod, mouth agape as quiet moans fell on his ears. "Yeah, you are. I want to feel you come on my cock, c'mon. Fuck— I need to feel you come on my cock again." 

"God Leon— fuck— I'm gonna—" Your back arched against his chest, toes curling as wave of pleasure overcame your body. And it only took the feeling of his thumb on your swollen clit to fall apart completely. 

His mouth covered yours as your body convulsed under his, your orgasm hitting you so hard you were squeezing the shit out of Leon's hand above you. He happily swallowed the cries from your mouth as he continued to drill into you, rutting himself against you. He could only control himself for so long. 

"Fuck me— Goddamn baby, you drive me crazy. You take me so fucking well." He grunted against your cheek, his free hand now sprawled across your neck. He didn't squeeze this time, he only held you as he gave you one, two more thrusts of his hips before he was spilling himself inside you. "Atta girl. Atta girl." 

His lips were lazy on your cheek, leaving gentle kisses in his wake. A drunken giggle left your lips at the slight tickle his stubble left on your skin. His hands were now beside your head and he lifted his head enough to look at you. 

"Doing okay, pretty?" He asked with this pussy-drunk smile on his face, one of his fingers brushing the side of your face, "hm?" 

"Yeah, I'm living my best life." You giggled softly, opening your eyes to find his sapphire ones staring sweetly at you. 

"Sure you are, with my dick deep enough to feel me in your stomach, what more could you ask?" He teased, his lips curved up into a smug grin. You widened your eyes at him and smacked his shoulder. 

"You're insufferable." You rolled your eyes at him and attempted to move from under him but he was a brick wall above you, he refused to move a muscle. 

"You adore me. Wouldn't be here otherwise." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and removed himself from you. His words lingered on your mind. You weren't sure what the fuck it was that you felt for this man, other than the utter need to be fucked by him. But outside of the obvious chemistry, you wanted to be around him, to be around Isabella. You couldn't help it. You were catching feelings for him and his little girl.

You watched with big eyes as he stood up and walked around the bed, you couldn't help but giggle a bit. He turned to shoot you a questioning glance. 

"You actually took your pants off today." 

Leon furrowed his eyebrows even more confused and looked down, in fact very naked, "Yeah?"

"You didn't last time," You laughed softly, sitting up, amused by the way his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. 

"How would you know that? You were on your stomach, then on your back the whole night." He teased you back, making big eyes at you. 

"I heard your belt rattle the whole time.'" You rolled your eyes, now sitting on your knees at the edge of the bed to meet where he stood. He narrowed his eyes at you as he leaned down to meet your lips. 

"Guess I was that eager to fuck your brains out." He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he nudged to his bathroom. "Clean you up, then maybe, stay the night?" 

"Really? You scrunched up your face at him, eyes slightly widening at the idea of being in his bedroom while Izzy was down the hall. But you had to admit you couldn't say no to this man. "I mean, that'd be nice but—"

"Hey, don't worry. She doesn't have to know you're here if that's what's on your mind. We'll get there when we have to." 

We'll get there when we have to. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't sure exactly when morning came. Leon had closed the blinds before getting into bed with you last night. Tiredly so, after he decided taking you one last time would be ideal. You had decided to spend the night with him. What was the worst that could happen, right? 

An embracing warmth surrounded your body, and it wasn't exactly the thick soft duvets that covered you. When sleep slowly slipped from you, your eyes fluttered open to find Leon. Your face was snuggled deep into his chest as his arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, keeping you warm. The bourbon and vanilla lingered on his skin and took you in like the sweetest of greetings. You smiled softly, snuggling further into him. Leon had been awake for a little while. But he refused to get up so as not to wake you, he simply held you, his fingers resting on your scalp soothingly. Only when he felt you stir awake did he move. 

"Morning, pretty." His low raspy voice filled your ears and you felt a pair of cold lips on your forehead. You hummed softly, lifting your head to find him already looking at you with those eyes. 

"Morning, handsome." You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone as you laid your head on his chest. 

"You sleep okay?" You heard him mumble above you. You nodded.

"Slept nice and warm." You smiled, running your fingers over the prominent patch of hair on his chest. 

"I'm good at something after all." He snorted. 

You were about to respond with one of your witty comments when you heard a few rapid but soft knocks on the door. The doorknob turned a couple of times with no result since it was locked. You and Leon jumped into a sitting position at the sound. Leon in particular had a 'oh uh' look on his face. 

"Daddyyyyyy! Why is your door locked?" You heard Isabella on the other side of the door. 

You looked at Leon who was frantically looking on the nightstand for his phone. 

"Fuck. Goddammit." You heard him curse under his breath as he harshly stood up, shuffling around the nightstand. 

When the fuck did he leave his gun out last night? He groaned to himself. Walking across the room with his handgun in one hand and his phone in the other. Which you clearly didn't miss. 

"Leon, why do you have a gun right now?" You asked, anxiously holding the covers up to your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious and embarrassed. 

"Government issue. Forgot to put it in my safe last night." He answered over his shoulder as he went into his walk-in closet, he came out a minute later. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I completely forgot she had to get up early today. Let me get her in the shower then I'll be back, okay?" 

You pursed your lips softly, a bit disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend the morning with him. But it was understandable, his daughter was first, and it certainly wasn't time to introduce, well whatever the two of you were. He leaned down to capture your lips into an apologetic kiss. 

"'S okay. Go, take care of Izzy, I'll be here." 

He shot you a smile and nodded. He found his pants from the night prior and slipped on a random sweatshirt he found sitting on his dresser. He shot you a wink before he slipped out the door, closing it behind him. 

"Daddy." 

Leon was met with a very grumpy and frowny little girl as soon as he closed his bedroom door. His eyes widened at the sight of her with her arms crossed. 

"Yes, bee?" Play dumb. Why not? 

"Why was your door locked?" She repeated her question from earlier, sapphire eyes intensely staring him down. Like he was a suspect that needed intimidation and she was the agent doing the intimidating.

"'Cause I'm an adult and I can lock my door. What did I tell you about minding your business?" He gave her a look, but he wasn't being serious, not really. Her face didn't otherwise change, though. 

"I'm going to be late, daddy." 

"No, you're not. Isn't your ballet lesson at 9:00 a.m? It's 7:00 a.m." Leon rolled his eyes at his little girl and picked her up. She, of course, didn't protest at all. 

"Well, yeah, but I want breakfast." She rebutted. Leon couldn't help but chuckle at her. 

He took her to her bedroom, setting her on her bed before he walked to her closet. 

"Yeah, well, you're taking a shower first, bee, you stink." He snorted when she very loudly disagreed, that she did not, in fact, stink. 

"I do not! You do!" 

"I showered last night. I can't stink. Your nose doesn't work." He kept annoying her until he found her ballet clothes. He walked back to her bed, handing her the folded clothes. "Go on, go shower. Just don't get your hair wet, remember I have to put it up, okay?" 

"Okay daddy." Izzy happily took her clothes and skipped out of her bedroom, but not before popping her head back in to say, "Can I have waffles for breakfast please? With lots of syrup and bacon?" 

Leon looked at Izzy with soft eyes, his heart warming ever so slightly at his little girl, and he nodded. 

"Of course, Izzy. Whatever you want." He waved her away and she happily skipped, going on about her daddy being the best daddy in the world. He couldn't help but laugh to himself and at the wonderful daughter life decided to give him. 

When Leon returned to his bedroom he watched you hurry back to his bed like a child that just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to. He raised an amused eyebrow at you when you slightly bounced on his bed, eyes big as you tried to hide the smile on your lips. 

"You're so nosy." He chuckled, rolling his eyes at you. 

"What? I wasn't doing anything.." You bit your lip softly, holding back a giggle. "Just that your little girl has you wrapped around her finger."

If he had rolled his eyes any harder, they would have gotten stuck there. But the tiny curve on his lips told you he was more than happy about it. He shrugged as he stood in front of you, leaning down to your eye level. 

"She's not the only one." He grinned softly at the confused look you gave him. "I know it's soon but I can't stop thinking about you. You're sweet, absolutely gorgeous and you're kind to my little girl. So, maybe you'd like to try something with me?" 

"If you wanted to ask me on another date you could just say so, you know my answer." There was a playful smile on your lips as he leaned down to kiss you. 

"After I drop Izzy off at ballet? We could grab brunch, and, I don't know, let's do something you like. How does that sound, Miss?" 

Christ, you felt so stupid, so naive, like this could go all kinds of wrong but, what's the worst that could happen? 

“Sounds like a start, Mr. Kennedy.”

[stevieschrodinger]

Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part One

Part Two

PART THREE

"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."

"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"

"Yeah, like a series."

"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"

"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"

"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."

Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.

"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"

"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"

"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.

Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"

"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."

Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.

Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'

And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.

There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.

"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."

Steve's heart fucking melts.

Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.

"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."

"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"

"Yeah. Still not my thing-"

"Oh."

"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."

"...yeah?"

"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."

"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"

"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."

"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.

"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."

"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.

"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."

"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."

"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."

"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."

And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.

@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch

[jarofstyles]

Oh ohhhhh friends to lovers pleaseeeee

6. "I wanna take you so fucking bad."

OHHHHH YES

Patreon

-----

Harry really wasn't sure how he ended up here.

It was a scenario from his dreams, ones he'd never admitted to having to anyone else before, but he didn't know how he'd even gotten into this position with his best friend. Wine night had gotten out of hand, some sort of something had been said and the next thing he knew he had a lapful of Y/N and wine stained lips pressed against his own.

Her pajama pants were pulled tight on her ass, his hands unable to keep the temptation of it away from his brain. Rocking on top of him, she whimpered softly as his lips pressed to her hot throat. The layers between them felt flimsy and he could feel how hot she was for him. His best friend of 5 years, rolling her hips and holding his face against her sweet spot on her neck.

"H-Harry..." She breathed, tugging softly on the hair at the nape of his neck. "It feels so good... Why does it feel so good?" Her slow grind against his prick made him roll his eyes back into his head. It was childish, something he hadn't done in years, but it felt better than his last year of hookups combined. "Why didn't we do this before?"

Y/N always asked the real questions.

"Dunno... Should have." His fingertips pressed into the curve of her ass, the hot skin exposed from her shorts moving up. "God...You smell amazing." It was the little things like that. Teeth nipping her throat and being engulfed in her, realizing just how much he gravitated towards certain candles because they smelled like her. His brain always knew, was always plotting this even if he was trying his hardest not to. "I wanna take you so fucking bad." The voice that came from his throat was unfamiliar to him, wrecked and desperate. "But I can't. Not now."

"No... Please." She begged, pulling him from her neck to look at him. "Please, H. I need it so bad, I can't... I can't stop." He could see it in her face. She meant it. Y/N really wanted him to take her, and god knew his cock was desperate to sink into her hot cunt, get deep inside, stay there. Milk every drop of cum her had inside of her. But not like this.

"Can't... Not when we've been drinking." He frowned. "M'not gonna stop this.... Gonna let you rub yourself on my cock and let you cum. Not that cruel." He squeezed over her ass harder to get that pretty whimper from her mouth. "But I can't do it like this. You deserve more. If I'm going to fuck you... M'gonna do it right." He breathed, connecting their lips again. She tasted so sweet, the tiniest hint of sour from the drinks but it only added to it.

"How?" She whined. "How are you going to fuck me?"

It shouldn't have been so easy for him to spill, but it was. "Need you on a bed. Not my couch." He started, deciding to let his hands slip under her shorts and feel the full warmth of her skin against his. "Strip you down, get to see how gorgeous you are. I know it's gonna ruin me, sweetheart." No lies were told. They wouldn't be able to come back from that. "Kiss down your body... Gonna make little marks for you to remember me by. On your perfect tits, that stomach, those gorgeous thighs... Everywhere I can." His hands aided her rocking, shifting her just so and getting the gasp he'd desperately wanted from her. The thin shorts and his sleep pants were barely layers and he knew this would be the way to get her clit the way she needed.

"Then I'm going to split those thighs open and kiss you down there. Lick you up. Start slow and tease you a little, make you beg for me just like you did before... But then I'll give it to you. Suck on that clit until you can't take it and push my head away, make you cum on my tongue and stretch you out with my fingers. Know you're going to be a sopping fucking mess. Gonna want it all over my face."

"Fuck." Y/N keened, gripping his hair tighter. The action alone made his prick twitch in his poor excuse of pants, feeling the heat of her cunt bleed through and warm him up. Soon enough she'd soak those shorts and he'd be able to feel it make a mess of him. "What else?"

"Greedy thing, aren't you?" He chuckled. "mm.. Want to feel that mouth wrapped around my cock. Dreamt of it so many times but... Think I want our first time to be about you. Dunno how long I'd last with it." The mere idea of her sucking him off had been the subject of many wanks and he knew it would take an embarrassingly short amount of time to orgasm. "So instead, I'd spread you open and take you. I'd want to take you on your back at first- need to see the look on that perfect face while my cock stretches that cunt open." He groaned at the mere thought. "But I think we'd switch around a bit." One hand slipped out of the back of her shorts to go up her shirt instead. The hot skin of her back warmed his palm as he dragged it up and down.

"I'd love t'take you just like this. Watch you bounce on me, make a mess of my lap. Have your tits in my face..." He let his hand graze the side of one, making her shiver. "Suck on them. Make them wet and swollen for me, just like your cunt. But you'd get tired, hm pretty girl? Bouncing up and down like that, gonna make your legs burn... So I'd flip you over and get you on your knees..." His voice was muffled for a moment as she kissed him again with her sugary mouth. "I'd get you on your knees and watch you take me. See your ass move and hit my thighs... How you'd arch your back for me. I think that would be perfect." His hand kneaded her ass, spreading it a bit roughly as she gave him another pretty gasp. Her eyes were bleary and soft as she looked down at him, heat behind the gaze as she rutted on top of him.

"Would you do it hard?" She asked, swallowing thickly. "Would you spank me?"

Harry's eyebrows raised in shock at the question, but it shouldn't have. Of fucking course she was perfect for him. There was no way around it. "Yeah, I would. I'd go at the pace you want... and you're obviously a filthy thing. Had no clue you wanted something like that, but I'd give it to you." he pulled her back down to his lips, slipping his hand out of her shirt to give a light slap to her ass before rubbing over the area to soothe. It wasn't the hardest he could have gone but it was testing the waters. "Like that?"

When she shook her head, he couldn't help but smile. "Harder?" He repeated the action, harder this time. It made her jolt, the stinging skin getting a whimper as she nodded against him. "Fuck me... You're what I needed all along, aren't you? Been under my nose the whole fucking time."

[munsster]

rockstar standards

A/N: PLS PLS PLS DROP SUGGESTIONS FOR HOCKEY STEVE/EDDIE im having a total brainfart but i need to break into the hockey au game bc i love it 😻 (gif creds: @cuntyarmand)

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, 90s AU

Summary: Corroded Coffin starts to gain some traction, and you can't help feeling stranded. 1.5k words

Warnings: minor angst/hurt comfort, fluff, pining, pet names (bug, sweetheart, sweets, baby), jealousy, undressed cuddling,

You watch him parade around the stage every Friday night. Sometimes he's playing the home stage, other times he books random amphitheaters and dive bars. But today, he's drenched in purple light on the outskirts of Chicago. It's by far the biggest venue Corroded Coffin has played. You sit by the pop up bar, but bodies are packed like sardines in this place. It's hot and loud, but it's worth it to see him so elated.

Even through his streaky eyeliner, you can tell he's adoring the attention of the pit. You can see their red fingernails and shiny tank tops and free flowing hair. You never thought Eddie would be the kinda thing you were attracted to. You also know he's not the kinda guy to be attracted to something like you. You know guys like Eddie usually go for the Pam Andersons and Courtney Loves. The Party girls. Not the ones who have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than watch a romcom alone.

That Sunday, Eddie pulls onto your street. It's late and he has a ringing headache. He couldn't think of anything better to do after touching down in Hawkins again. You'd headed home the night before, and it made his gut wrench knowing he wouldn't get to see you the rest of the weekend.

Your door creaks open, and he's smiling on the other side. He's already leaning against your doorway with the bouquet he bought earlier from the woman selling them on the corner.

"Missed you, bug," he huffs, "Can I come in?"

You step aside without another word, and he hangs his leather jacket on the coat rack like always. Something feels off when he sits on the couch to find you're on the complete opposite side from him. Usually, you're not shy about cuddling up beside him to watch a movie or share snacks or just talk.

He frowns and scoots closer, leaning in to grab at your ankle playfully. You kick his hand away, brow set hard above your lethal glare.

"Sweetheart," he huffs, tilting his head in confusion, "What's going on? Where's my cuddlebug?"

"I dunno, somewhere in Hollywood?"

His eyes nearly pop out of his head at that. You're his favorite girl and you know that. So why're you grilling him now.

"Tell me what's goin' on. What did I miss?"

And you look serious, too. This isn't some running joke he missed out on while he was away. He's not sure who bruised your confidence, but he's sure he'd like to have a few words with them. He hates the way your lip wobbles and your eyes avoid him cause it gives you away. That's how he knows you're heartbroken.

"Eddie," you whine, swiping a hasty tear from your cheek. "I just don't know why you keep me around when you could have any of those girls at your bon vivant gigs."

"Fuck is that supposed to mean, bug?" He barks it out on accident, sitting back on his haunches with a scowl. "I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm gettin’ rid of you."

"Eddie, please... you're gonna make it big and get shipped off to Tinseltown, and I'll still be here, teddy. Probably being someone's lonely, suburban housewife. It's what I'm made for, and that's not what you want."

"You're wrong."

"And maybe you should go," you whisper, choking back a sob and standing from the couch.

"No, sweets, you're wrong," he says, standing and striding over to you, "You've got me wrong, and you've got you wrong."

You cross your arms over your chest and finally look him in the eye.

"'S that so?"

"Yeah," he tuts. And he has the most charming, most dastardly smile you've ever seen, flashing his canines like a gentle killer. "'Cause I'm gonna take you with me."

"Teddy."

"Nope, I'm takin' you with me wherever I go, and there's nothin' you can say to change my mind. Even if you hate my music forever, fine, I'll fix you up in a nice five star anywhere we go. You can sit and watch all the movies you like. You'll be nobody's housewife, baby, 'cause I'm keepin' you."

You roll your eyes, batting away tears when he grabs your hand to pull you back to the couch.

"And what if I said that's not what I want?" you suggest, testing his rockstar resolve with your big, wet eyes and stubborn quips.

"Then I'll give you somethin' else. Anything else. But you're mine no matter what." If only you knew how proud it made him to call you his girl. To know you support him even if you don't love his genre.  "Now, would you come closer? You're killin' me."

You obey with a frigid pout, letting him drape your thighs over his and brush his ring clad paws over your cheeks, down your neck.

"But what about your groupies and the pretty girls at the bars or in the front row?"

"What about 'em?" he says, just barely shaking his head, "I'll have somethin' way better waiting for me."

You chuckle. "You're crazy."

He cocks a brow. "Old news."

When he notices how close you've gotten, he smiles. Your manicured nails graze over his chest with the only light washing over you from the dimly lit kitchen. He can't resist his palm curling behind your neck, pulling you close for a sweet kiss.

"Where d'you keep your vases?" he mumbles, remembering the tulips resting on the little table.

"Kitchen. Above the fridge," you say with your fingers already slotting between his to pull him towards the warm light. He loves you like this: sickly sweet and tender, holding him all gentle in your hot pulse. You go to reach for a painted ceramic vase, but he wraps his arm around you and turns you away.

"Ah ah ah, drop it, sweetheart. That’s my job," he says against your temple, holding the lip of the vase and patting your ass. He takes the bouquet from your grasp and sets both on the counter by the sink. You hand him a pair of scissors and he carefully snips the stems jagged, filling the vase with water.

His stomach flips when you wrap your arms around his waist and clasp your hands at his belt. He sets the prepared arrangement aside and turns in your embrace.

"All done," he says wickedly, palming your face with his wet hands. You jump back with a squeal, pelting a dish rag at this chest.

"Use a towel, you slob!"

He chuckles and wipes his hands on his shirt, tossing the towel over his shoulder and leering at you like he's starved.

"Come here," he mumbles. You go a little shy under his gaze, dropping your head and shuffling towards his presence. He catches you by the hips, dipping down to catch your mouth in a prying kiss. You grin against him and he groans, tugging you tight against his body.

"Always love how soft you are, baby. Surprises me every time." He shakes his wild mane and purses his lips for you to kiss this time.

"Where d'you want the flowers?" he says.

"Bedroom?"

His eyes light up involuntarily, and he grabs the vase, bounding off towards your room gleefully. You jog to catch up with him, and when you enter the threshold, he's expertly positioning the vase next to a stack of books on your dresser.

"Much cleaner than mine," he says, gesturing around the room, "You keep it nice in here."

You shrug. "Could be cleaner."

"You can never see mine," he teases, knowing full well you already have. He slings his arms low on your hips, adoring you in the blue light of dusk. "Can I undress you?"

You bow your head and whisper, "teddy..."

"Not like that. Just wanna hold you."

You kiss his slanted mouth sweetly, nodding.

He reaches for the edge of your soft cotton dress, pulling it up and over your head. He whistles low upon seeing your undergarments, whipping his shirt off and onto the floor somwhere. You giggle, helping him with his belt buckle. He traces your temple with his lips leaving kisses along the way. He steps out of his jeans and lets you lead him around the bed.

His curls sprawl out against your pillows, and he welcomes you into his side with a lazy smile. Your reach to touch his waist and softly feel over the scar below his ribs.

"Little tender, bug," he hisses. You bat your eyes up at him scared, pulling your hand away.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "No, please," he whispers, cradling your wrist, his eyes locked with yours. He draws the hair away from your neck, replacing it with his fingers to dance down along your spine. You’re warmer than he’s ever felt before and thankful for it. His hands are cold, but he doesn’t have to worry about it for very long when you bring each fingertip to your lips for a kiss.

“You’re my girl, alright? Always,” he whispers and you nod, “always.”

masterlist

[rizsu]

wife on the low manjiro, sanzu.

sum. babysitter!reader. idk where i was going with this one

manjirō sano

tension. too much tension. it's not easy trying to focus on a happy baby when you have two eyes digging through your soul. his gaze is terrifying—whether it's just the way he's just there quietly or the fact that he's bonten's leader, you don't know. he's a scary man.

trying your best to ignore whatever he's doing, you focus on cheerful baby that's been slapping her hands continuously on the little container with water.

she's five months currently so you decided it's time for sensory playtime! starting off with water and slowly adding little sensory toys into the container as she plays.

“it's getting messy.”

“oh—should we stop?”

“no, continue. i'll clean up.”

mikey pushes himself off of the door's frame and wanders off to some room for a mop. he walks away with thoughts swimming in his head; delusional thoughts if you asked him.

he doesn't really know what is it that he's feeling. is it love? dunno. he never felt it in a long time. well, it's not like he remembers what love felt like—he didn't even love the mother of his daughter. hell he can't even remember what possessed him to have sex.

coming back into the playroom, he stills for a moment. cute, he thinks. you look fitting like that. something about the way you're giggling with his daughter while she babbles words only those of her kind understands really makes his heart swell.

“'m back,” he announces after a good few minutes of gawking.

moving the baby onto her crib, you pinch her cheek before going to help mikey.

so close, you think. his body's just above yours—close to the point where you can feel his sweater on your head. his hands moves on yours taking hold of the container.

you made the mistake of glancing at him,, now you're stuck gazing into his static eyes, looking for any hints of his current emotion.

five seconds turned into ten and he doesn't break the eye contact. rather, his right hand glides from the container and rests itself on your cheek.

does he know why he did that? no.

is he going to elaborate? also no.

a few more minutes in wondering silence until he breaks it.

“you're pretty.”

oh!

it takes a minute to process it; eyes opened but still looking into his. mikey drifts his gaze from your lips and back to your eyes. he shows no signs of taking back what he said.

“thank...you..?”

chuckling, he notes your confusion and decides to fuel it by saying: “you're welcome. be my girlfriend.”

sanzu haruchiyo

“pick a colour: blue or red.”

“how about no!” hoisting up his daughter on your hip, you circle around the table making your way to the kitchen as you ignore his attempts of getting you to pick the drug of the day.

sanzu raises his eyebrow at you. you sure have a lot of nerve in front of someone that can easily kill you but he won't. why would he kill you when he isn't sure if he, sober!sanzu, loves you or if he, high!sanzu, is just fucking around.

eh, it's not like he's worried. that's something for future him to worry about!!

“sanzu, her formula's about to end!” shouting from the kitchen as you violently shake her bottle, you faced your focus more on the quiet eight month old rather than the twenty-eight years old father.

“is that all?” sanzu moves on arm behind the couch as he looks back at you. she's a natural with kids—especially mine, he thinks. he's going to blame the drugs for that even though he's very much sober.

“yeah, is it okay if i use your card? i need to stock up on the groceries too.” you explained, dropping a few droplets of the milk on your forearm to check the temp.

“why're you askin' me? it's your card. i took it out for you.”

“because i don't wanna—oh???” you paused. sanzu, your boss, couldn't have possibly taken out another card for you right? certainly, right? god, it's so hard to focus after he said those words. you try to not think too much of it but it's just too difficult.

lost in thought, you didn't realize that he's already in front of you, holding up his mini to give her a nose kiss before looking back at you.

“looks like she's finished. let's go.” walking towards to door, sanzu grabs his keys from the holder along with his mask.

“huh—oh, right her stuff. just a minute!” you can't seem to think coherently, not when those words still linger fresh in your mind.

maybe it's the drugs,

maybe it's you,

maybe it's him,

maybe it's the way he holds your hand firmly while smiling whenever an elderly lady compliments your little “family”,

or maybe it's the way he guides you into his room at night after his daughter fell asleep, pulling you into a kiss that answers all questions.

[simpjaes]

Jake getting TOO excited when reader asks if they can try fucking raw 😋😋😋😋

wc: 1k warnings: borderline breeding kink, he's more so just pussy drunk rather than being an excited loser, jake goes hard, reader goes dizzy.

"You wanna?"

Jake's eyes widen, and truly he can't help them from shining when he looks at you. They're probably sparkling brighter now than ever before.

For a full year now he's wondered how good you'd feel wrapped around him. So warm and velvety inside against his fingers, but always separated by that thin layer of latex when it comes to his cock.

Condoms meant pleasure, of course, because it means he gets to fuck you but that didn't change the fact that they always came with unwanted flavors, unneeded lubrication, and unnatural scents.

For a full year he's begged. Always with pleas of "I'll pull out baby, please." and "Just the tip, I promise!"

You always said no, and he always moved on like he didn't dream about how good it would feel raw. How sexy it would be to know he's pumping his cum directly into you, slamming it in deeper and deeper until he's spent.

"Really?" His big eyes blink at you dumbfounded, cock already having been hard for the past ten minutes from that immaculate fucking head you just gave him. "Why now?"

You lend him a shrug and a snide smile, glancing up to the ceiling before looking him dead in the eye.

"I dunno." You offer first, lifting on your knees from the floor to lay your head across his legs. You gently blow out, watching the way his raging cock twitches at the sensation. "Been wondering what it feels like to, yknow, feel you cum in me."

"Oh..." He trails off in a moan. "Y-you don't want me to pull out?"

You shake your head playfully in confirmation and instantly you see three more beads of precum leak from his tip in anticipation.

He's asked you for this countless times, and you're a bit shocked in the way he stays leaned on his arms looking down at you like this. You do notice his shaky breaths though, that grip on the sheets, the way his abdomen flexes with each act of hesitance to fuck his hips up against the air falling from your lips.

"Really?" He asks again, this time with his voice cracking and showing the eagerness. "Oh, fuck." He breathes out now, flopping back onto the bed and reaching his hands out for you, as if you grab at you to move up and onto him. "Yes. Fuck yes."

You can't contain the giggles that fall from your throat when you crawl on top of him, anticipating the feeling of it yourself and not truly expecting it to feel much different aside from allowing yourself to see what the hype is about regarding like...you know, dripping cum and all that shit.

And he's silent after that. Nothing but breathy sighs and harsh grips of your hips as he slides you against him. As if he's relishing in the feeling of your raw and open cunt spreading out along the length of him.

He does this for what feels like ages, to the point he makes that familiar face. The one where his eyebrows furrow, hit bottom lip sucks in between his teeth, and he starts to let out little grunting moans.

You force your body back in his grip though, stilling yourself and sitting your clit just against the base of his cock.

"So good-" He moans at the feeling of your slick all over him, never once feeling it against his cock solely because the two of you are normally quite cautious by your request. "Drenching me, baby, fucking sliding it all over me."

He's amazed, really, at how wet you get. No need for lubricant or rubber to help the slide. Oh, no, no, no. He can't wait to feel the heat of it, the pure slick and clenching of it. No barriers, all skin.

He's already babbling too, trying to force you to slide forward again on him, out of breath and near whimpering for you to grind his cock to full release, but you're not budging.

Only now does his excitement fizzle into anxiety, fearing that you've changed your mind.

When he looks at you through those glazed eyes, you can only smile wider though. Lifting up only slightly to line him up with you and immediately sink down on him all in one go.

You moan out in unison, his hands holding your hips yet again only this time holding you down on him. His cock sits dormant inside of you, stretching your walls with each breath and pathetic urge to twitch.

It...does feel different. Not so much that condoms ruin the experience in full but god it feels so much better. You can tell he agrees too, with the way he offers a half-dopey-smile as he holds you down on him. Now intentionally twitching just to feel those same hot-velvet walls hug his cock raw for the first time.

And it's not long after that when you start to bounce, but no. It's not enough this time. Jake wants to fuck you, and so, he fucking does. You go a little lightheaded at the movement, where he knocks you back by the shoulders, cock still plunged deep inside of you, and now pins you down against the bed. You only continue to grow dizzy at the feeling of his lips fluttering all across your chest, collarbone, and neck as he does it. Thrusting harder, deeper, and so much faster than he normally would. As if he can't get enough of you, as if he's seeing red and not yet noticing how your head is hanging half off the bed and you can't keep your eyes open through the sheer force of his cock slamming into you. And he just keeps going. Hips chasing every bit of warmth your pathetic and stretched cunt offers to him and his hungry desire of fucking you empty. To the point you gush all around him, splashing your pretty slick against his balls. Only then, will he let himself fill you right back up. Knowing for a fact that he's not going to be finished with you until you're both well aware that his load is going to be fucked right into that little womb of yours, and you'll never forget the feeling of having so much of it both stuffed inside of you and dripping down those pretty buckled legs.

[phyrestartr]

Their Burning Bodies Keep Us Warm (2/2) | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 3.4k #NSFW, p0rn with plot, top!Sukuna, bottom!Reader, ABO dynamics, cannibalism, mentions of sex trafficking, mentions of cults, questionable relationship, suggested Stockholm syndrome, post-apocalypse, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, drama, gore, typical zombie shite, not rlly edited kekw SORRY tags: @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @tr4nniez @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @kindadolly @inflatabledinosaurs19 @memedealer-exe

“How's it look?” Sukuna groaned after you peeled back the bandages and gauze.

You stayed quiet while you thought, but ultimately had to ask, “How's it feel?” 

Sukuna scoffed. “Aches like fuck.”

“You should take Tylenol or something.”

“Hah. Like I'd give up drinking.” 

You sighed and washed his back with the usual tincture of salt and water, earning yourself a sharp, whiny snarl. Carefully, as though to apologize, you dabbed away scabbed blood and whatever else clung to the DIY sutures. 

“Then it'll keep hurting.” The dark, black bruises around the wound promised it. “But…it doesn't look infected.” You pressed against the reddened, irritated skin with a light touch, and breathed a sigh of relief; there didn't seem to be any suspicious discharge or signs of serious infection. Hopefully it'd stay that way. 

“Silver fucking lining, I guess.” The alpha hung his head and let you go about cleaning it thoroughly to prep for re-wrapping it. “You're not too squeamish around this shit, hey?”

“I guess,” you said lamely. You glanced at the back of his head in thought before focusing on your task again. “The whole world is shitty. So. Guess I got used to it.”

“You sure you don't have a history?” He asked, glancing back at you. 

You shrugged. “I was a crook, but I only stole. Never really fought, never murdered either. But I saw shit, sure. Patched some people up before, too. Nothing like this, though.” 

Sukuna nodded and looked ahead again, resting his chin on the back of the chair. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?” You wondered.

"Explains why you're not boring me," he said, nonchalant. 

You paused to cast the back of his head another wary, confused glance. It was a strange comment. You weren't sure what the implications meant for those who came before you.

"What would happen if I bored you?" You asked.

"I'd get rid of you," he answered, too truthful. "Kill you. Eat you. Kick you out. Somethin' like that." 

Sukuna looked at you again, an amused glimmer of insanity igniting in his eyes. You did your best to look away, to not engage with the hellspawn repossessing his near-tolerable person. 

"Oi, oi, quit looking so pathetic," he taunted, voice singing with playful sadism. "There's no room for that if you wanna survive out here, brat. Besides, our deal is pretty good, isn't it?" 

You pursed your lips, trying to ignore the fact that he just declared that he'd eat you if he got bored of you. How were you supposed to relax? 

Yet you tried anyway. "Yeah. Right." 

"Don't believe me?" He questioned. 

"I do. Just--you just told me you woulda ate me if I was boring." You tried not to sound too flabbergasted and awestruck, but the warbly disbelief came through anyway. 

And Sukuna laughed. Not in that heinous, chilling way, but low and warm. It almost made you think he could be somewhat fond of you. 

"Well, you're still breathing, aren't ya?" He asked.

You shrugged before starting to re-bandage his back. "Well. Yeah. I guess." 

"You sound anymore fuckin' unsure and I'll take your damn head off, omega." Sukuna sighed, still sounding content. "Dunno what shit you've been through, but you survived it. You're strong. Remember that." 

For the first time in your life, you felt butterflies in your stomach. 

--

You're strong. Remember that. 

Those words festered in your mind, bringing a much-needed sense of calm to your exhausted body and soul. You didn't realize how little you recognized your own strength, your own vicious mettle that kept you going through the haze of pain and discontent embedded in your life. You almost pitied yourself for your weak mind; when had you fallen so low? Why didn't you realize you were trapped in Tartarus? Did the nightmares and bitter flavours numb it all out?

You rubbed your face. "Think about the now," you mumbled as you poked at the fire with an especially long stick you'd taken a liking to. "No point thinking about the past." 

"Better not be mumblin' seance-y, satanic cult shit into the fire," Sukuna called from the kitchen. "I'll be pissed." 

Your face flushed with more than the fire's heat. "No! I'm just--I'm talking to myself." 

"In a creepy way?" 

"No!" 

"Coulda fooled me." 

You turned to the kitchen with a sour look, but quickly averted your gaze again; normally, you'd help him prepare and ration food, but when he took to chopping up chunks of person, you couldn't stomach it. 

Sukuna must've seen you look away, judging by his sudden, cheeky cackling. "What, still squeamish, omega? You don't got a problem when you're eatin' 'em."

You grimaced. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about it. Feels...wrong."

"Pussy."

"Hey."

"It's easy meat," Sukuna continued. "Better than eating grass 'n leaves 'n shit. Besides, makes you tougher."

You huffed. "Tougher. Right." 

Your partner in crime snorted. "You know how vaccines work, omega?" 

"Duh." You stabbed at the fire a few more times, stopping only when Calcifer spit a mouthful of sparks at you. "Introduce a weak strain of a virus into the body so it can make antibodies and fight against it." 

Sukuna hummed in agreement. "So what do you think happens when we eat our doomsday virus, huh?" 

You blinked owlishly at the flames. "Is...that can't be true," you asked, itching at your arm. "No way we’re becoming--"

"Immune." 

Sukuna walked to your side and knelt beside you, showing off the small collection of scarred bitemarks dotting his arm.

Your touch ghosted against the marks in wonder. Maybe he was lying. Maybe these bites came from something else. Something more demented than even the undead. 

"But how could the virus survive? When it's, uh, cooked, I mean," you asked as you held his forearm with both hands and examined further. 

"Guess medium-rare doesn't take care of everything." He shrugged and watched you press against the raised skin incessantly. "But hey, maybe I'm just a freak of nature. Better than normal fucks. Godly."

You looked at him with yet another grimace, and he grinned. 

"You've been eating people for too long," you decided. “It's made you delusional.”

"Probably." He moved to get up when you let go of him, but paused with a second thought.

Sukuna reached for you, brushing some of your hair from your neck. Your heart did more stupid backflips feeling that quiet touch drag along the sloping curve of your neck, down to the source of your alluring redolence. 

His thumb rubbed slow circles against your skin, waking forgotten sparks of bergamot and birch, melding them with his musk of leather and pine. You thought they fit together nicely, in an odd way. Or maybe you were caught up in hopeful delusions his marking always brought you. 

He stood, then, content with his work. "Was in prison when shit hit the fan. Had to get creative." 

You rubbed your neck when he walked away. "I can imagine. Must've gotten pretty overrun." 

"The cells were pretty safe. Most of the prisoners died starving after the outbreak," he said. "Sorry sons of bitches. Couldn't even lob a dead cellmate's head off to save themselves when those idiots turned." 

"That what you did?" You scooted up onto the couch and watched Sukuna putter around the kitchen. You pretended he was cutting up some wild animal instead of human. 

"I killed my cellmate before that," Sukuna said. "Got sent to solitary for it." 

You pursed your lips. "What'd he do?"

“He bored me.”

–

Being in his arms felt safe. You rested easy, no longer fearing his appetite nor his wrath in the brief moments of consciousness before darkness overtook you. He held you before, too, pulled you to his chest to stay warm whenever the night grew too cold and the fire dwindled; now, however,  it was different.

Now, you woke up facing him. You woke with newfound adoration for the gnarled bump fucking up the bridge of his nose (something that told of far too many fights) and you realized you quite liked the sound of his soft, rumbling snores. Even the way his body burned too hot eased your nerves when it once suffocated you with sweltering anguish.

You were careful not to say you felt anything for him, however; he was the beast who'd stolen you away from your short-lived freedom, and kept you here for his own selfish pleasure. A warning danced in the forefront of your mind, shaking its head every time you looked your captor's way. You knew better. You knew better. 

But he wasn't so bad. Though that was what Belle said about her Beast, wasn't it? Before they fell in love. Before their happily ever after.

You shifted just the slightest bit closer to him, letting your nose barely nudge against his before freezing, waiting to see if he'd stir and wake from the mild disturbance. He'd slept through worse, you imagined. Most were light sleepers throughout the apocalypse, but he–

His eyes opened. The pounding of your heart must have been the cause. 

Sukuna didn't have words, and neither did you; being here, being so close to him, face to face and finally taking in what he looked like, about to find out what he tasted like, said everything in a language he understood.

Because he closed the gap first. After a sharp glance down to your lips then back to your eyes, he nudged your nose aside and pressed his lips against yours. And you pushed into him, tugged yourself closer with your hands in his shirt and then in his hair while his own smoothed over your side to grab and grope at your ass and whatever softness from the old world still clung to your figure. 

Your hands pulled at his shirt, and he got the message. He rolled on top of you and sat up on his knees, straddling your waist as he pulled off his shirt to let you see glimmers of scars arching against defined slopes of muscle, disappearing beneath cloth bandages. Your breath hitched; he was gorgeous in ways you couldn't describe. 

He adjusted, settling between your legs before leaning down and kissing you again while those curious hands of yours felt for the secrets etched into his skin like hieroglyphics left only for the blind. Those marks told stories from start to finish. They hinted at his life up until this point. You wondered if any of them reminisced of smiles and laughter. 

Sukuna's hands coasted up your shirt to explore you, too. His thumbs pressed between every rib, followed the arch of the cage protecting your heart, before he pinched and teased at the sensitive buds of your chest. You didn't think you'd like it, but the way he tortured you with talented fingers was too good–good enough to drag out the first of many quiet, breathy sounds from you. 

Sukuna pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. His broad palms smoothed across your skin before he dipped down, and tasted you, running the flat of his tongue against your neck, then back down to the bullied bundle of nerves he'd worked into a frenzy. He bit and nipped, swirled his tongue around the pert nub, and sucked hard enough to bruise and split your delicate skin.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, stifling the rattling hum reverberating in your chest; you'd never felt so good before. You'd never had someone focus on you like this before. Maybe it was a selfish thing on the alpha's part, or maybe he wanted you to indulge in primal pleasures, too. That errant hand of his groping at your hardened cock suggested as much. 

Your fingers carded through his hair as he left brutal hickeys on your chest and bit at your nipples like he was threatening to take them clean off (thankfully, he seemed to quite like them and left them intact for future use), and then he traveled south, yanking your shorts off and spreading you wide before him. 

Your heart throbbed in your head. It pounded harder still as he stroked you firmly and fully, squeezing at all the right spots while his other hand felt up the softness of your thighs, the slick pooling between your cheeks, the tightening of your sacks. He was so like a cartographer, trying to chart every inch of your body, trying to remember which spots made you jolt and jump. 

And you couldn't help but squawk as he lifted your hips, hauling your legs over his shoulders with little effort, before spreading you wide and licking against your leaking hole. 

Your hands clutched at the sheets desperately. The pants stuttering out of you upscaled when his tongue, the devilish thing, circled around your tight entrance a handful of times before sinking in with the help of his thumbs pulling you open. 

This time, it was Sukuna who moaned, low and dripping with bliss. You couldn't know how it was for him. You didn't know how tasting your slick, drowning in your bergamont-pine perfume in its purest form drove him mad with hunger and want–with need, maybe. Your scent was divine. Your taste was even better. 

So, he took his time. He indulged in lapping at you, coaxing more and more slick to pool from your insides and drip down his chin in sticky, syrupy dollops while you writhed and bucked against his grasp, seeking more but getting too much. Sukuna almost felt for you. Almost. If you didn't want him to eat you alive, you shouldn't have tasted so sweet. 

Eventually, his cock demanded attention, too, and he finally let your hips down to look over your fucked-out expression and heaving chest. And when you stared back at him, eyes heavy and needy, you caught the alien glow of crimson burning in the swathe of shadows dodging the moonlight. It sent an electric thrill dancing up your spine; the monster you once feared was back, and now bewitched by your body's spell. 

Sukuna's pants came off in a slow rush. He tossed them aside and half-heartedly wiped his mouth before looming over you once again, and catching your lips with his. His tongue pushed into your mouth, ripping the tiniest of ah-s from you, and he forced you to taste what was left of your essence against his tongue. Then, like the kiss was just a mere distraction, his head popped into your empty, lonely body, and stretched you with a singe of pain. 

Your fingers dug into his scalp and his back as he forced himself into you inch by inch, pulling out just to push back inside deeper with the aid of your body's viscous desire to find a euphoria of his design. The hasty beginnings of a knot at his base stretched you wider, filled you fuller as he snapped in once more and bottomed out with a growling moan vibrating against your chest.

And, god, it felt good. You were stuffed beyond your limits, struggling to adapt and welcome him inside despite hugging and squeezing him with praise and devotion. It seemed he'd never bothered jamming his entirety into you. He'd been giving you that one, little mercy your entire tenure. 

But now, you were willing to take it, and he was going to give it to you, like it or not. 

His face buried into your neck when he moved. His hips pulled back just a bit before he sunk back inside of you, like he was trying to see just how far he could reach into your struggling, smaller body–and then, he was done testing your shared limits, and he devoured you. 

You clung to his shoulders, clawed at his back, pulled at his hair while he fucked into you. The bed creaked and dragged against the floor with every near-hostile ram into your heat, but you could hardly hear it over the feral, primal noises slipping through his clenched teeth. Your omega fell mute with pleasure and relief, apparently finding peace at being railed into like you were in heat and your mate was in rut. You weren't. He wasn't. You could only imagine what that would be like. 

Profanities hissed from him, as did demented, mumbled praise that you'd keep close to your heart come morning. His knot inflated bigger and bigger, bullying your ass open wider with each violent slam into your core. Normal alphas wouldn't have forced it into you mid-fuck, but he wasn't normal. He wanted to feel your tightness bite down around that sensitive, swollen plug. He needed to hear your sharp mewls and grunts the pain and pleasure forced out of you with every disgusting, wet pop of his cock ripping out of you. He had to keep pushing his limit, pushing your limit, until you got too fucking tight and too fucking hot that you'd force him to stay put and pump his cum into you by the gallon. 

He had to. 

So, when your breath fanned against his hear, when you whispered the most pathetic, “Cum in me,” he went mad. 

He leaned back and folded you in half, ignoring your uncomfortable grimaces before he held you in that mating press and let loose, eyes screwed shut and brow furrowed in concentration while his fangs dug into his lip as he snarled and grunted. 

Blood rushed to his cock with an electric current, pushing his hips to snap against yours harder and faster as his knot inflated fully and struggled to leave the warmth of your tight, clingy hole. But it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough–

Until he looked down at you, and bore witness to your muscles fluttering, your back arching, your mouth hung open with a soundless cry as you came undone, soaked with sweat and slick. 

Sukuna’s hips jolted and stuttered, and he fought to force that thickness into you for the last time before he spilled inside, adding his own kindling to the fire eating you alive. 

You gasped again, hand fisting tighter around your cock as you worked yourself through the unbearable ecstasy crashing down on you in torrential waves. You were a boat in the middle of an ocean, somehow staying afloat despite being in the middle of a world-ending storm–perhaps by the mercy of a beast lingering in the depths.

The aftershocks took too long to die down; Sukuna's shallow thrusts into you didn't help, nor did your own languid stroking, but you didn't want it to help. You wanted to see how much more cum you could force out of the man every time you clenched around him. You wanted to see how much longer the perverse pleasure would plague you if you tortured him just a little more. By the continuous emptying of the man's balls into your inflating core, you'd say you were doing a pretty good job. 

You silently both doubted that stupid knot of his would go down with how worked up he got–normally, it'd take about 5 minutes, but there'd been data recorded suggesting it could take up to an hour if the alpha was determined to have his omega as his permanently. And judging by your solitary existence by his side, it seemed like the latter was possible. 

So, he took great care in maneuvering you both onto your sides to rest more comfortably while you waited and dozed. The time passed with kisses and touches, and the constant drone of purring filling in the gaps where your bodies failed to touch. 

In that moment and onward, you didn't much care that you were his victim. His butterfly caught in a trap, kept docile by the sweet taste of honey.

–

“Looks like the worst is over,” You mumbled, looking over the to-be scar on his back. “You sure you want me to take out the stitches?” 

Sukuna scoffed and looked over his shoulder. “You want those things to fuse into my fucking skin, omega? Take ‘em out.” 

You furrowed your brows, but complied nonetheless. “Doubt they’d fuse to your skin,” You mumbled. 

Sukuna growled at you, and you grunted back, not impressed, no longer intimidated. Things had changed ever since that night. For the better, somehow. You found yourself less intimidated, less afraid, and he seemed to welcome it with open arms and a wolfish grin. You weren’t entirely sure, but you almost felt like it was the definition of mates. 

A banging from the basement made you jump and huff, earning an amused snicker from your partner. 

“Almost stabbed you with the scissors.”

“Don’t fucking stab me with scissors.”

“Not on purpose,” You sighed. “Should we knock them out again?” You wondered as you carefully cut every stitch and gently pulled them free. 

A deathly rasp had you both snapping to attention. A handful of figures lumbered outside the house, shambling and bumping into this and that as they searched for whatever stimulus had caught their attention. You found yourself annoyed, knowing the cattle locked up down below were probably the lure. 

“Well, if they’re gonna be attracting the fucking zombies like that, yeah.” Sukuna yawned and rolled his shoulders once you finished up with a reassuring pat to his back. “Might as well make ‘em fun-sized ‘n store ‘em in the freezer right away while we’re at it. They’ll get too scrawny otherwise.” 

You hummed as you cleaned up. “Isn’t leaner meat better?” 

“Yeah, but the fat’s useful,” Sukuna said with a smirk. He tugged his shirt on and stood, looping his strong arms around your middle while you puttered about and ensured the medical tools and counter stayed clean. “Use it for fires. Keep us warm ‘n shit. ‘Sides, might get shittier meat, but more of it.” 

You smiled a little (not at the idea of using human fat as an incendiary component, but at the little, domestic touch, of course), and nodded to yourself. “Well, I’m not gonna argue. You’ve done this longer than me. It’s not like we can go scavenging with the streets like this either.” 

Another handful of ghouls stumbled by the back door. Everything was barricaded, every window was blacked out, every possible way of entry was evaluated and reinforced, but the presence and proximity of the new rush of undead still unnerved you; you recognized most of them, too, which was an unwelcome touch. Something had gone awry at the mill, the two of you reasoned. Somehow, someone got bit, and the infection spread to the rest of the compound–the rest of the soldiers, at least. 

Most of the undeads wandering about once held positions of power. They once boasted before the cells of omegas, brandishing their medals and ribbons and everything else in a pathetic attempt to earn favour and initiate courtship. Now, it seemed those outside of the cages had seen the cruel, flesh-eating face of karma. You could only hope the lack of familiar, friendly faces meant your kind stayed locked away and safe while the compound exploded. They were strong; they'd make it.

Of course, there were whimpering survivors from your terrorizers’ side, namely the two men downstairs that Sukuna welcomed in with promises of safety and kinship ringing sweet on his tongue. It must've tasted quite bitter when they realized the trap was sprung with no honey to be found. 

Sukuna yawned and let go of you to tug his shirt back on. “Streets'll clear. Just a matter of waiting. Taking care of those two pigs downstairs'll keep shit quiet.” He picked up a hatchet and you shuddered. “We’ll take it from there.” 

You watched him wander to the door leading down to the basement–and then a thought got caught in your mind and sunk its teeth in with desperate need. 

“We should check the compound,” you said. Sukuna paused, and you swallowed down your brimming insecurity. “They have–I know they had medical supplies. And food. We should see what’s left.” 

Sukuna’s shoulders relaxed the slightest bit before he laughed. “‘N here I thought you were gonna beg for me to search for survivors.” 

“What? No, are you kidding me? I just want more medical stuff in case you get yourself hurt again,” you huffed, crossing your arms. 

Your partner threw a doting gaze over his shoulder at you before smirking. “Sounds like a plan.”