#i wanna bite his chest so bad you don’t even understand

[pinkmirth]

i found a reiner variant . . . let it be known that i won’t leave this man alone!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

im not sure what it ia, but i LOVE the little remora. i love it i love it i lvoe it

it makes me insane id love to groom ghosts scales, and everyone elses scales. i want to clean soap up, even if he see's poor ol remora as a toy to play with, i just wanna scrub them all up!

(i love this already. i love mer's)

the more shark mer Ghost pushes you away the more you wanna take care of him so so bad <3

you find yourself pouting a lot at Ghost’s surly attitude, darting up and down his big scarred body, as he tries to nap. tries to, but can’t.

it has nothing to do with you. he has these bouts of insomnia. but they make his temper real short.

regardless! you insist he needs to let you groom him. it’s been days. you get twitchy when he makes you skip your daily grooming with him. the rituals. the rituals are intricate.

“i’m trying to rest, you little pest,” he growls. "come back later. or not at all."

you tell him (tartly) that he said that yesterday and the day before.

“i meant it then and i mean it now. go away before i decide to chase you off.”

like he would. he hardly exists during the day as anything but a grumpy seafloor log. you swear you’ve seen bottom-feeders start nibbling on him he’s so inert.

(nibbling on him is your job.)

you settle down on the sand next to him on your stomach. you don't touch him yet, but he's just within reach. you stare at his pale, scarred sharkshin with bright eyes, practically vibrating in place.

he can feel your eyes on him. worse—he can feel the impatient flicking of your tail fin agitating the water as you stare at him. how can such a small creature be so terribly full of want, he wonders. your anxious energy is like too much salt in his gills.

“i will bite you," he warns. “i’m not in the mood.”

rationally, you know he doesn't like to be touched sometimes, no matter how you insist he'll feel better once he's clean. and still your anxious mind won't calm down until you're absolutely sure you've made yourself useful.

you lay your palms on the silt, fingers inching silently closer to him.

he growls, low and dangerous. the one that means he’s run out of patience and is about to make good on his threats.

you jolt and flatten yourself against the sand in instinctive submission. you’re not a threat, see? you’re harmless. you’re basically just a little piece of seaweed, c’mon.

your instant compliance does nothing to calm him. if anything, the sight of your immediate surrender drives him to double down.

he grabs you by the by the nape of your neck and lifts you up to eye level. “i warned you not to touch me.”

your stupid little heart leaps because all his attention is on you now. you want to wrap your hands around his eagerly, want to reach out and touch his chest. but you can only get close enough to skim his chest with your clawtips.

the sensation only makes him tense.

you quickly bring your hands in and wring them, trying to stop being a bother. "please can i—"

he glares down at you, teeth bared. “no,” he snaps. cold, firm, immediate.

but the more he tries to repel you, the more desperately you want to please him. to get back into his good graces. you feel every bit the creature full of anxiety and neuroses he thinks you are--always trying to figure out how to feel useful and stay on the other mers' good side.

he can see that in your eyes—the desperate need to be useful. it’s what he hates most about you. he can't stand how compliant you are at this moment. how desperate. how eager you are to please even after he's been nothing but cruel to you.

he squeezes you. your body thrums nervously in his grip.

“you little parasite. what part of ‘don’t touch me’ is so hard for you to understand?”

all of it. you stare up at him with big, blank eyes.

“you can't get the simplest instructions through your thick skull, can you?"

you shake your head (kind of, best you can) in his grip as a shameless display of agreement. he’s right, you’re stupid. so stupid.

Ghost scowls. eager, willing to degrade yourself at the smallest fucking thing.

"don't tell me you're getting off on this.”

okay! you won’t.

at that, you see the look in his eye shift from anger to something more devious. your response is so quick and willing that he can't help but smirk.

of course. of course you’d comply. no matter how hard he pushes, how cruel he is, you simply ask for worse. you're a little masochist. a nuisance. worse, you’re his nuisance. you insist on being around him, on seeking him out every bloody day.

he tolerates your presence. that's more than anyone else gets. and you take the precious little patience he gives you and wear it threadbare??

he can’t abide that. he can’t let your audacity go unchecked.

"look at you," he hisses. "eager to debase yourself at the first sign of anger. don't you think that's just pathetic?"

you nod enthusiastically.

mindless creature. willing to let him treat you any way he wants if it means attention. pitiful.

"say it," he growls.

you do. you happily tell him you’re pathetic.

“that you are. finally, something sensible out of that pretty mouth.”

you’re wired—fucking blitzed at the mere implication of good girl in his tone.

“and you're my little parasite. mine to do with as i please."

your whole body wants to curl in delight, your tail twisting like an eel in the sand below you as he eases you onto your back.

his eyes rake over you. you are the picture of obedience and submission, all pinned down and ready.

“look at you,” he rasps. “so desperate to please me. you’d do anything i tell you right now, yeah?”

yes. yes. anything.

he leans in and puts his mouth to your ear. "then let me sleep."

then he’s gone.

you lay in the sand in blank, sexually charged confusion.

by the time you slap your tail into the sand to twist yourself up into the water, half-flustered and hot-tempered, you see the ends of Ghost’s chewed-up tailfins disappear into his favorite dark cave.

before you can give chase, the familiar shape of Soap passes overhead, and he's chuckling as he dives down to you.

Soap’s grin widens as he watches your face cycle through frustration, confusion, and irritation.

you can’t believe Ghost would do that to you.

“of course he’d do it,” Soap says. he saw the whole thing.

you bluster and he coos a little teasing sympathy at you, ushering you up into his arms instead. poor wee cuttlefish, he calls you. lays it on thick because he knows you're looking for a place to expend all that pent up energy now.

he whisks you away somewhere more private so you can tend to him instead. groom him all you want. tell him your troubles. maybe let him make good use of your compliant nature. he tells you it’s a good way to make Ghost jealous.

meanwhile, Ghost is finally able to snooze contentedly, dreaming of you, maybe. he does owe you a little thanks for that small catharsis you gave him.

...

more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag

[saetoshi]

“i want you to like me.”

you absentmindedly hum, flipping a page of your book. sae frowns, crossing his arms on the table. he sighs, hoping to get your attention.

it fails.

so, he sighs again, a little louder, a little deeper, and, maybe, just a little annoying. he bites back a frustrated groan when you don’t even bat an eye in concern.

he calls out your name, pouting. “don’t ignore me.”

“mhm,” your eyes widen slightly as you lean closer to your book. a hushed gasp leaves your lips, the corners of your lips quirking up into a smile as you read.

sae sighs again, resting his head on his arms, his cheeks flushed as he gazes at you. he supposes that’s the one good thing that comes with you ignoring him.

“i really want you to like me,” he says, his words hushed. a hint of a smile curls the corners of his lips up, an amused glint in his eyes as you don’t react to his words.

a dry chuckle leaves his lips before he tsks, shaking his head. “i hate you,” he mutters. (he doesn’t mean it. not anymore, at least.)

he hides his mouth behind his arms—a futile attempt at hiding the smile that you clearly won’t see anyway.

(he thinks he must seem pathetic.)

the corners of his eyes crinkle when he sees your expression shift from joy to shock. he thinks your book’s probably interesting. (not as interesting as you, though. he’s becoming cheesy.)

(he thinks it’s disgusting.)

“i like you,” he whispers, his words muffled by his sweater. his heart drums on his chest, butterflies erupting in stomach as you try to bite back a smile. (he wishes you were paying attention to him.)

a few beats of silence go by. sae sighs, the sound oddly dreamy before he chuckles when your brows furrow. he smiles, leaning up before gently pressing his finger between your brows. his smile widens when you finally look at him.

“something interesting happen in your book?” he smiles, his voice teasing.

you don’t say anything, but your slightly frustrated expression tells him all he needs to know.

“wanna tell me about it?” he chuckles when you swat his hand away. he laughs harder when you give him a dirty look.

“you wouldn’t understand,” you mutter, frowning at him. he can tell you’re angry he interrupted you. (he concludes you’re even prettier when you’re mad at him.)

(he thinks he might be ill.)

“says who?” he sticks his tongue out at you. the corners of his lips turn up in amusement when you stick your tongue out in return.

“says me,” you huff, flicking his nose. (he really wants to grab your hand and shower it with kisses.)

(he’s most certainly ill, he thinks.)

i like you, he thinks, his eyes locked onto yours. he smiles when you tsk, turning your attention back to your book.

sae calls out your name once more, “shouldn’t you take a break? don’t you think it’s better to read a book over several days?”

“shouldn’t you mind your business?” you shoot back, giving him a glare from behind your book, “don’t you think it’s better to shut up and not be a bother for once?”

he snickers, his ears flushing when he hears the small smile in your tone despite the harsh words. sae’s laughter slowly stops, his arms crossing on the table once more.

he softly sighs, resting his head against his arms as he looks at you. his cheeks flush when he sees your focused expression once more, a smile growing on his lips when you glance at him before looking back at your book.

he really, really likes you, he concludes.

(he thinks it might not be such a bad thing.)

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave

Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.

He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.

Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!

Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!

Jason: What the hell are you doing?

Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.

Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?

Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.

A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.

Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.

Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.

Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.

Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.

Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.

Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.

Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.

Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.

Jason: First day?

Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.

Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.

Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.

The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?

Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.

Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?

Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.

Danny: Sure, why not.

Danny looks at the headstone.

Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.

Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?

Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.

Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.

Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*

Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?

Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.

Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.

Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.

The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.

Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.

~~~~~

Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.

Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.

But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.

~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~

Dick: How did you two meet?

Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.

Bruce: What? Who dared?

Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.

Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.

Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.

Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.

Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.

Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.

~~~~~

Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.

Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.

Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.

~~~~~~

Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?

Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.

Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.

Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?

Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.

Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.

Jason: Whore?

Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.

Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.

~~~~~

Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.

Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.

The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.

~~~~~

In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?

~~~~~

Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.

GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.

Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.

~~~~~

Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.

[freedomfireflies]

Bite Me*

Summary: Part of Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun

The one where your boyfriend, Harry, is a vampire.

And you wish you could feel what he felt.

Word Count: 3.2k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Easy…easy, sweet dove. Need to relax for me. Can smell how nervous you are. Take a deep breath, hm?”

Shaky fingers gather in front of your stomach as you nod nervously. Staring up at your boyfriend with anticipation and remorse. “Sorry, I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, reaching up to brush some hair behind your ear. “There is nothing wrong with you, darling. It’s chemical. You’re meant to feel nervous around me. It’s nature’s design. To keep you safe.”

You nod again, catching a glimmer of light from the sharp tooth peeking out from behind his lip. “I know, I just…I wish it would stop. I wish we could just be, you know? Without me being so…”

He studies you for a moment, a look of adoration on his face as he hums again and cups your cheek. “I know.”

You nestle into his touch rather contently before he begins to smile, now dipping down to nudge his nose with yours. 

“If you want…I can make the bad feeling go away,” he whispers with a slight purr. “Can make it all better again.”

Hopeful, your lashes flutter. “Really?”

He nods once. “Mhm. Just wanna help you, dove. Want you to feel good.”

And now you understand what he means, the thought sending a spark down to your toes. It’s rare he feeds from you. After all, he considers the act to be degrading and disrespectful. He only ever feeds from animals or blood bags unless you’ve specifically asked.

But the truth is, you love when he feeds from you. For a plethora of reasons, one of which being the overwhelming sense of need and dependance on him that follows. Or the way his eyes grow darker and his entire demeanor changes. How much stronger he becomes feeding on human blood, specifically the blood of someone he loves.

But another reason lies with his fangs. The venom that becomes injected into your bloodstream, forcing you to feel whatever emotion or desire he feels. 

It’s a trick used to lure and calm his prey into submission while he feeds, but you find another use for it. Because if he’s filled with serenity or anger or lust…you feel it, too. You feel him. Only him.

And it’s your absolute favorite feeling in the world.

His other hand now reaches for your neck, fingers gently tapping the sides of your throat. “Just say the word, darling. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

You feel your chest deflate, all the air evaporating from your lungs as he slowly urges you back against the wall. Bracing you there as he awaits your decision.

He knows what you want. And he knows that you’d tell him otherwise. 

Your fingers tangle in the dark shirt on his chest, desperate to keep him near you. “Do it. Please.”

He tilts your head back, letting his lip curl up until his fang is revealed. “Are you sure, my dove?”

Another fervent nod. “Yes. Please, Har…please, need to feel it. Need to feel you.”

He leans closer, letting the tips of his sharp teeth graze over the sensitive skin of your throat. Right above your pulse point. “Gotta be really sure, darling. Don’t want to hurt you. Or lose control.”

“You won’t,” you exhale, feeling more confident than you sound. “Know you won’t.”

Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind if he did. Even in his darkest moments, he remains your fiercest protector. Never allowing anyone to hurt you.

Not even himself.

You feel him breathe against your neck, perhaps preparing himself for what he’s about to do. Or maybe he’s indulging in your smell. Reveling in the realization of what he’s about to do. What he’s about to taste.

Then, almost as if overcome with a surge of confidence, he bites down – hard. Enough to break the skin and allow his venom to travel into your system.

It’s instantaneous, the feeling. The way your muscles dissolve into jelly, the way your mind fills with a certain haze, and the way your stomach begins to coil.

It’s overwhelming, but it’s him. And you whimper as his other hand falls to your hip to keep you steady, making sure you remain upright and in his arms.

He waits a moment or two to make sure the venom has taken effect before he slowly retracts his fangs and pulls away. You know if he’d punctured you any deeper or kept the sharp teeth inside of you any longer, the taste of your blood would have driven him mad. Tempting him beyond reason until he began to lose control.

But he knows his limits by now. Knows exactly how far he can push himself around you, and you admire him for it.

Your legs shake as you slump against the wall, held up by his grip as he studies you carefully. Looking for signs of remorse or panic.

He’s learned a trick for sucking a majority of the poison out of your system – if it were to come to that. And while it’s tricky and tedious, you know he’d do it in a heartbeat if he felt you were in danger or if you regretted your choice.

Instead, you simply smile at him, and nod languidly. “M’good, Har,” you assure him. “M’so good.”

He seems to exhale a grateful breath, thumb stroking your cheek gently as he now glances over your wound. “I need to clean it—"

“No,” you whimper, keeping him close. “Not yet. Don’t go yet.”

He chuckles, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “All right, dove. I’m here. How do you feel, hm? You feel calm yet?”

You nod again before your lashes flutter. “Yeah. Calm, and…and happy, I think?”

He hums. “I imagine. You do make me happy.”

“It’s strange, though,” you admit, brows furrowing in thought. “Feels…heightened. Or more potent. There’s this…this yearning. This need for something.”

He regards you for a moment more. Curious and seemingly amused by your confusion before suddenly, your eyes snap to his.

You suck in a sharp inhale – something akin to a gasp. “Are you…are you horny?”

You expect his surprise, but all you find is smug fascination. “Well,” he begins slowly, letting his knuckles graze delicately beneath your jaw, “the term horny is a little juvenile. And it could never even begin to describe what I feel for you.”

He steps closer, lips ghosting just above yours while you feel your breath hitch.

“But…yes,” he whispers, glancing down at your mouth with a smile. “I suppose I am. Can’t exactly help it, darling, can I? When you look…and taste…and smell so goddamn divine.”

Another whimper bleeds from your throat as he begins to guide you away from the wall and toward the bed just to the left of you.

“Tell me…how does it feel, dove, hm?” he murmurs, touch strong yet determined. “Do you feel me? Feel how much I need you?”

This nod is quick and zealous. Because you do. It’s all you feel. This desire to have – to take and ruin. In the best possible way. It’s a similar sensation to the lust you already feel for him. Your hunger to explore the dangerous but loving man you call your own.

“Yeah?” He’s grinning like a mad man at the way you so quickly fall apart. “Can I tell you a secret, darling?” 

You whimper pitfully as you gaze up at him.

Lowering his voice, he tightens his grip. “When I’m with you…I always feel like this.”

With that, he nudges you down to sit on the mattress before surging forward to press his lips to yours. Kissing you so hard, you feel dizzy. It’s perfection. Like quenching a burning flame. Like taking that first drink of water on a hot day. Fixing a desperate need – succumbing to a craving. 

And it feels as though this kiss fixes every one of your problems. Because it does – he does. Breaks you and puts you back together again all in the same moment. It’s almost addicting. You feel insatiable, hands disappearing into his curls as you yank him down until his chest is flush with yours.

The two of you roll and writhe around on the bed for a minute or two before he leans back to offer you air. He knows you won’t take a moment to breathe otherwise, and his smug smirk merely worsens the ache between your thighs.

“Not so nervous now, hm?” he muses.

You hook your leg around his hip and attempt to grind yourself against his thigh. “Please…”

“Please what, dove?” He presses his lips to the base of your throat, trailing them down your sternum and toward your chest. “What’s it feel like, what do you need?”

But you don’t have any answer for him. Instead, all you can do is stare at the stunningly generous man as he works his way down your body. As he unbuttons your shirt and kisses over the swell of your breast. 

The stain of your blood from his lips smears across your nipple before he takes it into his mouth. Sucking and licking at the tender skin while he kneads the other one in his palm.

You arch from the mattress, desperate to disappear into his strong frame while he chuckles darkly and allows his fangs to reemerge. 

He uses them sparingly – not as a weapon but as a toy. A tool in the game of your lust.

The sharp edge pricks your skin, enough to make you gasp his name and tug on him harder. He smiles a bit bigger and carries on with his quest. Moving down your stomach and toward the waistband of your pants.

Cold, nimble fingers pop the buttons free and tug the fabric down your legs. Revealing your trembling thighs to his hungry gaze. He looks at you like you’ve been served to him on a platter. But not in the way another vampire might.

No, Harry’s look of mesmeric adoration lies in the idea of your body. In the warmth of your cunt and the soft skin of your legs. In the way you draw him in, the way you hold him, clench around him.

It’s hard for him to feel most things these days. 

But he always feels you.

He settles his body near your ankles, providing him the right angle and amount of space to spread you open and study you.

His thumb reaches for you. Pushes into your clit before dragging down between your folds as you gasp.

His expression reveals nothing. No inkling as to what he’s thinking but you know his mind is running wild with ideas.

He finds your soaked little hole, circling it once before dragging the wet substance back up and through. 

“Shh,” he coos, taming your desolate cries. “It’s okay, dove. I’ve got you.”

“Har,” you whimper, fingers itching to reach for him as he settles onto his stomach. “Please…”

You can see the reflection of light on his fangs. The way they extend past his red, swollen lips and ghost above your skin.

He nips at your hip a time or two – a slight sting that dissolves into something excruciatingly pleasurable – before he dances his mouth down. Torturing you with what’s to come instead of simply giving it to you.

“You smell divine, darling,” he purrs, groaning deep within the back of his throat. “Just might kill me again.”

You’d laugh if you had the strength, instead peering down your body at him with a desperate need. “H, I need…need—”

“Need me, hm?” He exhales a gentle breath across your clit and it’s so very cold. But it makes you jump, a new wave of arousal seeming to soak the sheets beneath. “Need me to make it better, yeah?”

You nod swiftly. “Yes…yeah. Hurts, Har.”

“Hurts?” he repeats with faux sympathy. “Oh, dove. Bet it does. Bet it’s all achy.”

Your head moves on its own accord, and you feel your stomach quiver when his cool hands curl around your thighs, keeping them spread.

“I imagine,” he whispers, returning his eyes to your pussy. “Cause I know how much it aches for me.”

He dives in, tongue lapping at your warmth and wetness without mercy as you cling to the sheets and arch from the bed.

His arms fold over your hips, keeping you pressed down and pliable to his intentions as he begins. Licking, sucking, and nibbling at certain spots – but never the spot you need him most.

The tantalizing edge of his fang grazes your soft, sensitive cunt. Sometimes harder, sometimes softer. But always impatient, desperate to feel you anyway he can.

Truth be told, you suppose he enjoys feeding on you this way just as much. In fact, this is what he claims is his nourishment whenever he’s feeling weak and unwell. One taste of your pussy and he’s a changed man.

He has you every day. Makes sure you’re at his beck and call – which you already are, anyway. 

If he’s working, if he’s cooking, if he’s reading. He merely gives you a look and calls you by that familiarly loving nickname, and next thing you know, you’re sitting on his face.

The stretch of your muscles is almost distracting, but not nearly as distracting as his groans of pleasure. The way he curses to himself as he swallows you down. Nudging at your cunt with his mouth like you’re the best meal he’s ever had.

And then…those perfect lips find your clit. He sucks, and moans, and you cry out his name. Grasping onto his hair in a futile attempt at stability and more.

He lets you tug him closer. You imagine – if he were still alive – he’d be suffocated by your pussy. Which…he’d probably enjoy.

As it is, he continues his ministrations almost mercilessly while you squirm beneath him and attempt to buck up against his tongue.

“I know,” he whispers, almost soothingly, and it feels like a vast contrast to the way he forces you into so much pleasure. “Know, darling. Can hear your pretty, little heart racing. Try to breathe, yeah? While you still can.”

You suck in a greedy gasp, eager to obey, as you focus on the sounds coming from between your thighs. It’s sinful and sensual and it echoes around the room until it’s all you hear.

“Doing so good, babydove,” he murmurs, glancing up just long enough to see the first tear slip from your eye. “It’s a lot right now, I know. I know, but you can take it. Always do so good for me. Let me see you cum, yeah? Let me see this pretty pussy cum for me.”

And you want to more than anything. Chasing the need in your own belly along with the need from his venom. The combined rush of ecstasy that makes stars explode across your eyelids as more destitute sounds fall from your tongue. 

His hands suddenly slip beneath your back, forcing you from the bed as he repositions you and nearly pulls you right through him. 

Large fingers grope the tender flesh of your ass as he holds you against his mouth and sucks the sensitive nerves between puckered lips. 

“Tell me,” he ushers softly, a golden hue to those vivid eyes watching you closely. “Tell me how bad I need you. Tell me how much I love you—”

“Har,” you gasp, trembling in his touch. “Can’t…can’t…m’gonna cum, I…please—”

“Try. Tell me. Tell me that you feel me—”

“I do,” you whine. “I do, I feel you. Feel you, Har. So good. It’s so good, please—”

“All right, darling. You gonna let me taste you? Need to taste you, darling. Can’t live without it—”

“Harry—”

He pulls away just enough to raise his hand and smack it down your cunt. The cold metal of his ring catching your clit before two more spanks are laid in succession.

You moan loudly – almost undone by the eroticism itself – before he dips back down, and grazes the delicate bud with the edge of his fang.

You feel him slip a finger inside. Pumping you once – twice – before he adds a second. Wanting to fill you and finger-fuck you to the edge as quickly as possible.

It hits you then. Overpowers you and knocks the wind from your lungs. 

You fall apart in his hands, against his tongue. Moaning and whimpering as your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your head. It feels as though you cum twice as hard – perhaps a result of the venom or the symbolism of his need for you. The way your taste has satisfied his thirst.

“Yes, yes…there you go, that’s my fucking girl.” His tone is rough but riddled with lust. He groans like he’s never been filled with so much devotion. An anxious almost obsessed sound that drags your orgasm on at least a few seconds longer. “Give it to me, dove…fucking give it to me—”

“Harry—” You gasp his name like it’s the last sound you’ll ever make. Tears building in your eyes before they cascade down your warm cheeks. 

Ever the sadist, Harry works you through until your cunt is throbbing and far too sensitive to the touch. Despite your cries and whimpers for mercy, he carries on. Thrusting, licking, and sucking until you can hardly breathe.

Eventually he releases you and leans back. Perhaps able to hear the erratic racing of your pulse beneath your chest as he now works to hush your anxious mewling.

Crawling up your body with care, his fangs retract, and he buries his face in your neck to keep you still. Pressing his chest to yours in an effort to help calm you.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, lips grazing your skin as he speaks. “It’s okay, dove. You’re okay. God, did so fucking good for me, darling. Always taste so good, make me so happy.”

You tiredly grasp onto his arms, needing to hold onto him just as tightly as he’s holding onto you. Wanting to share in this moment as he smirks against your throat. 

“You okay?” he asks you now. “You’re nervous again.”

“No, I’m…I’m okay,” you assure him through a pant. “I just…it feels so good. So…heavy, you know? Overwhelming.”

He chuckles softly and pushes up onto his elbows to get a good look at you. Thumb finding your cheekbone as he traces the delicate curve of your face with great adoration. “Are you saying I overwhelm you?”

You nod, smiling giddily as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. “In the best possible way.”

Grinning himself, he leans down to capture your lips with his. And it’s soft and slow and an oddly angelic end to such a devilish evening.

“Har?” you whisper, lashes fluttering shut as you nose your way under his jaw.

“Yes, dove?”

Your kisses trail below his ear, making his fingers flex. “You know what I think?”

“What's that, darling?”

You begin to smirk wickedly as you slip your hand around the back of his neck and tug him closer. Allowing the edge of your teeth to finally make contact with his skin.

He stills.

“I think it’s my turn now.”

Just wanna put in a quick note and clarify that even though she was feeling a bit of his horniness and desire, she was still very much horny all on her own HAHAHA this was 1000000% consented to from beginning to end from both parties!

Also vampire!harry is so fun?? And I loved this?? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME??

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

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Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[f4iry-dvst]

PRETTY SWEET

a/n: guess i’m back haha!

pairing: pussy drunk!Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: No one loves the taste of pussy quite like Chris; he never fails to show you that.

cw: smut, oral (fem!receiving), squirting, mommy kink, sub!chris

“Let me, please mommy, wanna taste you so bad”

The whine that trails off of his sentence makes you giggle in that degrading way you know makes his head mushy, while your hand gently tucks a rogue curl on his forehead back behind his ear. Chris is between your legs, stomach pressed to the mattress as his restless hips grind into the mattress while he thinks you aren’t paying attention and he’s looking up at you with those godforsaken pleading eyes of his that you cannot deny. Of course, you can’t say no to him, he’s your precious, precious boy. That doesn’t mean you’re opposed to teasing him though — sometimes he has to work for it.

You chuckle again at the rustling of the bedsheets from his desperate movement before giving in.

“Of course you can sweetheart”

Chris near enough shouts with joy. That’s one thing you’ll never understand: how he gets such a kick out of getting you off and is legitimately upset if he can’t. You do get it, obviously. Toying with him until dawn breaks is like, better than crack rock; you’ve never gotten so sad when he doesn’t want to be played with though. It’s endearing at the very least: you can’t say you minded how much attention he pays to your pleasure, even disregarding his own for it routinely.

Not even a second later you feel the delicate touch of Chris’s tongue winding its way from your navel to your middle, and that’s when you stop his fun with a tug of his hair.

“But, Mommy wants some marks first, okay? Can you do that baby? Can you claim me from everyone else?

He’s quick to nod, willing to go to the world's end if it meant he got to taste you. It’s not often he finds himself the giver of a hickey; always rushing into making you cum, it’s very rare he stalls long enough for something like that. Chris knows you love them: love being adorned with the bruises and the bite marks, feeling the burn when he gets a bit excited and nips a little too hard or accidentally brushing over one in the morning and being reminded all over again just how much he loves you. He knows. His head just gets a little bit cloudy sometimes, that’s all. You’ll never blame him for that, it’s all your fault anyway.

You weren't sure where he was going to start his assault with his mouth, as he typically chooses your chest. If there’s anything that comes close to his love of pussy, it's boobs. But he’s still between your legs, hands bound tightly around your hips and he doesn’t seem to be moving: excitement was beginning to bubble low in your stomach. Chris’s lips latch onto the pudge of your thigh a beat later, sucking the skin into his mouth like it’s his last meal and letting his tongue swirl to soothe any sting he might inflict. The edges of your mind begin to blur as he hums and whines away as if he’s the one being sucked on; you can practically feel yourself gush at that. He repeats this process a few more times, scattering pink and purple blotches across your inner thighs like they’re his canvas until he pulls away again to look you in the eyes. They’re wet with arousal and need, glistening and oh-so-blue in the gentle light of your bedside lamp. He just looks so beautiful like this.

“That’s my good boy…I think you deserve your treat now don’t you”

He whines pleadingly, rapidly nodding again.

“Go ahead, make mommy feel good”

Well, no need to tell him twice. He’s shockingly slow to it at first: the tip of his tongue dragging through your folds from your hole to your clit, circling the pulsing bud before pulling away to dribble a little saliva on it. His thumb reaches round to flick it – once, twice and then a third, each one making your hips jolt upwards towards his face. You may be in control of him, but that doesn’t mean his touch doesn’t reduce you to a mess of your own. He giggles all sweet like a child with candy, like he doesn’t even know how much all this is affecting you. Of course he does, he just loves playing up on it.

Then, his tongue flicks back out and starts playing with your clit almost teasingly. Chris knows your body like the back of his hand; he knows just how to work you up, what makes you cum and what sends you flying off the side of the earth. This is his area of expertise – as he likes to say – he’s well practised and he can get you there so quickly you won’t even know what hit you. It’s always been so interesting to you how someone so sweet, so innocent and needy could be such a beast between your legs. Don’t get him wrong he still needs your instructions and demands, you’re comforting words and praise, but this is where he thrives.

You don’t even notice when he pulls your clit into his mouth with a suction you could never replicate until he starts letting it go, slow, agonisingly slow and the fire that alights in your veins is feisty. It’s all over every inch of you yet simultaneously all in his mouth and it’s wild how incoherent you’ve become in a few short minutes. He sucks it all back in his mouth again and starts flicking his tongue over the tip, and it’s clear then just how close you truly are already. Your hands are gripped tightly onto the bed sheets, pulling so hard to ground yourself the cover has pinged off of one mattress corner but you don’t have it in you to care.

“Mommy, mommy I need you to cum, please… cum on my face please”

You’re not quite sure why that does it for you. Maybe it was the pleading and whining, or the way he sucks your clit back into his mouth so roughly when he was done begging. Whatever it was, it had you bursting at the seams immediately. You feel his left hand pushing down on your stomach as your pussy begins to convulse and throb, and a feeling hits you that you haven’t felt in a long time. With not even a second to acknowledge what he’s forced out of you, your pussy gushes into his mouth. It throbs harder as you squirt, every muscle in your body pulling tought and your head thrown back deep into the pillows. Chris swallows it all dutifully, moaning loudly into your middle at the taste of your cum on his tongue.

You’re not quite all back to yourself yet when he yelps and cries out your name, but you know exactly what just happened to him. His hips are still pistoning into the mattress when you finally look down, rubbing his sensitive cock through his orgasm like a pathetic dog. You can’t help but coo at him even through your laboured breaths.

“Thank you, baby, you made Mommy feel so good”

Chris whines at that, nuzzling his head into your stomach and grinning against your skin. What a perfect boy.

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon commission for anon

Request: I was thinking a fem!vampire reader that works at a coffee shop and she has fallen in love with a werewolf customer, but he’s kinda oblivious and a bit of a himbo, and when she finally confesses he’s like…completely taken aback but not in a bad way? And if you feel like it sexy times, but I’m also open to serious fluffy stuff too…ummm the reader is chubby tho, like…I would really appreciate it if you keep it either neutral or make it apparent that the reader is short and chubs.

“You know I don’t like coffee?”

Werewolf (name: Toby) x fem!vampire chubby reader || heavy make out, fluff, pretty much SFW || TW: internalized fatphobia (very light9

“Order for Toby!” You try not to get amused by his taken aback stand as he approaches you.

He always looks so confused when you call his name that you don’t even know why he comes here in the first place. You always have to bite down on your lip to avoid giggling when he takes the first sniff of his coffee. Coffee black, two sugars, one vanilla. Every evening he comes and asks for that, even though he clearly doesn’t like it. It amuses you how he clearly wants to order something else but ends up ordering “the same” everyday.

“Tha- thanks,” Toby’s stutter makes you smile at him, your fangs glistening under the fluorescent and catching his eye. He licks his lips predatory, like he’s savoring your smell in the air, but once again he doesn’t say anything, he just leaves.

You grunt at the next customer, getting angry at yourself for being hopeful that such a cute werewolf would give you the time of the day.

That’s why after a couple weeks writing down your number on his cup and not hearing back from him, you had enough and start getting your break when you know he’s going to show up. The first day you almost give up and get back to work when his soft tone asks for you. But you endure. He didn’t call you. He didn’t show interest in you. Maybe he just likes the way you make coffee (even though he frowns every time he picks it up).

But the third day he shows up in a different time, making you prepare his order the same way you always do, writing your number one last time on the bottom, always hopeful that this time would be the time. When he grabs his coffee, you tell your coworker you are taking a break, wanting to get far for him. He doesn’t let you. He follows you to the back room, your coworker not even caring that he does that.

He crowds against you in the tiny room, he’s so much taller than you that you have to look up when he asks: “Why are you avoiding me?” His tone is a bit hurt and you have to swallow your regrets, because this is his fault.

You press a finger against his chest, accusatory, when you ask back: “Why didn’t you call me?”

“What?” He looks completely confused, and you want to kiss his stupid face so much you have to press your long nails into your palms, the little pain bringing you back to reality.

“I’ve been leaving my number on your cup for weeks and you never called, but then you show up here everyday even though you don’t like coffee just to see me. I don’t get it. I don’t understand it,” you explain. You try not to sound hurt, but it permeates your voice either way. It did hurt, it hurt so much that he didn’t call any of the times you left him your phone number.

“You know I don’t like coffee?” He deadpans, making you even more angry at him, forgetting your pain at his rejection in order to look at him. If you were a cartoon character you’d have smoke coming out of your ears.

“That’s what you wanna focus on?!” You whisper-shout to him. He steps back, completely taken aback by your tone.

“I- Sorry. What?” He questions again, his puppy eyes making you want to melt.

You want to be mad at him, you want to be furious, but when you open your mouth what comes out is: “You don’t... You don’t like big girls, is that it?” You hate yourself a tiny bit for letting your insecurities get the best of you.

Toby’s face contorts in what feels like a caricature. “What?! NO! I love your curves, I want to take a bite of every curve of your body, good goddess you look like my best fantasy came to life,” he says everything so fast that your brain is a bit dizzy by his confession.

When you fully register his words, you are even more confused than before. “Then why didn’t you call?” You are really missing something here. If what he says is true, and what you say is true… Why haven’t you been on a date or something?

“How would I?” His confusion is so clear in his tone, and his ears twitch so adorably when he tilts his head to the side that you want to squeeze him until he’s just a puddle of goo on the floor.

You take the coffee cup and turn it around, splashing some of the contents on the floor. You show him that there’s indeed a number written on the bottom. “My number. In your cup. Everyday,” you repeat.

His surprise is so evident that he gapes like a fish at the numbers and then back at you. Numbers. You. Numbers. You. “Wait. Wait. You like me? You gave me your number?” His question is followed by some mumbling that you don’t catch, like he’s talking to himself. Or more like cursing himself.

“Yes! I’ve been trying to get you to notice me since you first came in,” you confess. You are so glad you can’t blush, because if you could, you’d be as red as a tomato.

He repeats: “You have?” His surprise shouldn’t be as adorable as it is, and it shouldn’t make you want to kiss him senseless. It should make you mad at him that he’s been so obvious to your flirting.

“Yes!” You exclaim, throwing your arms up, exasperated.

“I- I… I didn’t know.” His tone is soft, almost a whisper, and his ears keep twitching over his head. He’s embarrassed, you realize. And that makes you want to coo at him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” he keeps chanting as he squeezes your body against his. Your face barely gets to his shoulders, but the way he squeezes you against him makes every worry you had about him disappear. He wasn’t rejecting you, he was just too dumb to realize you were into him. Stupid werewolf himbo.

Toby’s arms hold you so tightly against him that you fear he’s going to break you. “Dude, if I wasn’t a vampire you would break me,” you let out.

“Oops. Sorry.” He lets go of you and looks like you just gave him the best Christmas present ever. “Can… Can I kiss you?” He asks, his big paws holding your face tenderly.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull down with all your supernatural strength, giggling against his mouth when you hear the ripping sound. But you don’t care. And he doesn’t either.

Your lips are against his, and your fangs are pinching his lips as he whimpers. You deepen the kiss as he grabs you by the waist and pulls you up, your legs wrapping around his middle as you grind against his toned abdomen. His hands find your ass and he starts groping you, his tongue dancing against yours. You are in heaven. After so many weeks of pining, you can’t believe you are grinding against his body as he caresses yours. You’ve never been happier to be with a supernatural, his strength coming in handy to support your weight without any problem. It’s exhilarating.

You make out like horny teenagers for what feels like hours, but it’s probably no more than fifteen minutes. You are breathing heavily against his neck, your fangs gracing his artery without biting down, as he groans and moans, rocking his impressive erection up to meet your needy core. You want to bite him so bad, but you know it’s not the place. Your venom can induce some kind of frenzy in werewolves and you really can’t have him fucking you raw in the backroom of the cafeteria. You like this job.

“Your break is up,” a voice says behind you, making you let out a short scream as Toby giggles, his face buried in your neck and his hands still squeezing your ass like he’s kneading bread.

He lets you down and pats your ass once more, kissing the tip of your nose softly. “I’ll pick you up when your shift is done. I think we have things… to discuss.” The innuendo on his words and the way he looks up and down your body like you are his next snack is enough to make your non-existent pulse race.

You can’t wait for your shift to be over.

Reminder that you can commission me (info here) or suscribe to my Patreon (info here). And that my second account is @whiskis

[miniwheat77]

Brat pt. 2 (dbf!Captain Price.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, John being a gentleman 🥰, virginity loss, mention of body shaming, thigh riding (sorry if I missed any.)

“How has Y/N been lately?” John asks your dad.

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen him. “Oh she’s been great, I’m not sure what was going on with her.” He shrugs. You were off at a friends house right now, it was just John and your dad. They’re in your back yard, making burgers for dinner on the grill. “Maybe she just needed out of the house.” He smiles. “Yeah maybe. I’m sure she’s going stir crazy being done with school and all that.” He laughs, flipping one of the beef Pattie’s with a spatula. “She’s been out so much lately.” He sighs. “Is that bad?” John asks. “No of course not, it’s just hard. She’s eighteen now yeah but she still had to abide by my rules. I just hate that she’s growing up. I don’t want her getting herself into trouble thinking she’s more mature than she actually is.” John is listening, choosing to let your dad vent versus talking.

“I mean.. even when she was a little girl, she always liked older guys. Like.. thirties and above. She’s never liked guys her age. And I understand. Boys her age are nothing but.. sex driven assholes. I just worry so bad about her walking into the arms of the wrong man.” He sighs. For a minute, John feels bad. Like he’s taken advantage of you. You seemed so mature for your age, maybe he’d missed it.

“I’ve always monitored her stuff. Cell phones, computer. Everything. Behind her back of course. Just to make sure she never started talking to anyone online or any of that but I stopped because she’s adult now, deserves her privacy n all that. I never found anything out of the ordinary.” He shrugs. “She’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’ll be just fine.” John shrugs. “Yeah, I know. I just worry cause it’s my kid. Even though her attitude kills me sometimes.” He laughs. John smiles. “She does got quite the attitude.”

Your dad shakes his head with a smile. "Sometimes she's real nice, a real good girl. Other times I just wanna strangle her." He groans. John laughs, taking a drink of his beer. "She'll get better mate, it takes a while. I'm sure she's just figuring everything out." Your dad nods. "Yeah. You try saying that when she's being a brat." He rolls his eyes. "Send her my way. Little military training wouldn't hurt" He laughs. Your dad smiles. "That's a great idea actually. Although with how mean she can get she might humble you a little bit. Got a bite just like her dad." He laughs. "Sure it's nothing I can't handle."

He laughs. Just then, they hear your car pull into the driveway, an awful squeak coming from your car as you come to a halt. "Fuck." Your dad grumbles. "What?" John asks. "I told her I'd look at her breaks last weekend and never got around to it." He sighs. "I'm not doing anything, I can look at 'em while you're at work." He shrugs. "Oh that'd be great, thanks John." He smiles. You step out the back door, smiling when you see the both of them. Sundress blowing in the wind. "Are we gossiping out here?" You smirk. "Yeah about you. John's gonna take a look at your brakes so you can quit bugging me about it." He nudges you. "It just needs new brake pads." You roll your eyes. "I'll find something else to bug you about just because you said that." You smirk. "Yeah. I'm gonna send you John's way when you’re acting like a brat. He'll get you whipped into shape." He winks. Patting your shoulder. Your heart falls into your stomach, and your dad passes by you into your house, John nearly spits his beer out at your expression. Your cheeks are bright red and your eyes are wide. "He meant.. military punishments. We were joking about it." He laughs. "Oh.. Okay." You breathe. You needed to get the hell out of there. "Bring your car over, I'll look at it." You nod your head, hurrying off to hide your blushing cheeks.

Your heart settles in your chest as you climb into your car, starting up the engine. You notice John’s garage door opening. You pull out of you driveway and maneuver your car into his, pulling into his garage until he tells you to stop. He closes the garage door behind you. “I already have the brake pads and rotors.” You fidget with your hands nervously, you’re alone with him again. “Alright, so this will be easy than.” He smiles.

He gathers everything he’ll need. Tools, car jack. He even had some extra oil laying around. Figuring he’d just do it while he’s working on your car.

As he’s working on it, he starts asking questions. Not easing into it, jumping in head first. “So. I’ve heard your dad mention more than once that you’re into older guys. There a reason?”

His blunt question sends crimson up your cheeks. “Uh…” you pause. “Because guys my age suck.” You breathe. “Well yeah, but there’s got to be a reason. Have you ever even dated someone your age?” He asks. “Yes.” You breathe. “That’s the reason I don’t like them.” You laugh awkwardly. “What happened?” He asks. “Um..” you shift uncomfortably. He emerges from underneath the car, he’d finished up already. He leans up against it, crossing him arms. You’re sitting on a bench by his toolbox. “Go on.” You sigh. “Tried to pressure me into having sex with him. I wasn’t interested.” John nods his head. “That’s it?” He asks. You groan. “No. He was controlling. Wouldn’t let me wear shorts, monitored my social media, told me my thighs were too big and that he didn’t like my stretch marks. And I know it could be all guys but older men have been much kinder to me than guys my age.” John smiles. “Sweetheart.. I hate to break it to you.” He adjusts his beanie that he’s wearing. “But guys will be nice to you no matter what if they want something from you.” His eyes travel to the sweet spot between your legs, noticing you shift yourself uncomfortably. He can see the way you’re sitting now, eyes filling with tears. He feels like an asshole. You probably weren’t ready to hear that.

“Not all of them. Especially if I don’t tell them that I’m a Virgin to begin with.” You avoid his gaze. He nods his head. “Y/N. You’re a sweet girl and I’m not trying to be a prick here. But all men have some kind of flaw, even your dad does. I can be mean when I don’t want to be.” He shrugs. “You have to find someone you tolerate the most, because we all suck.” He laughs. “I didn’t mean to upset you, darling.” He moved toward you, placing his hand on your thigh. “It’s okay.” You mumble. “I can be mean too.”

He smiles, looking down. “Did you only touch me because.. because you want to use me?” You look up at him. “No, no.” He breathes. “I gave you a bad example.” He sighs. “What happened between you and I Y/N.. it wasn’t right. I wasn’t right to touch you like that.” He chuckles. “I’m not right for you, you deserve far better than anyone like me. The reason I brought this up is just because I don’t think anyone will be good enough for you. You’re the perfect, pretty, bratty girl.” He smiles. “And you deserve the fucking world.” His hand is still on your thigh, he’s close to you. “John?” You look up at him. “Yeah?”

“You said what happened was bad..” he nods his head. “Am I a bad girl if I liked it?” You bite your lip. Your tone of voice, the way you’re looking up at him. It’s killing him. He hisses under his breath, the way you’re looking at him should not be allowed. It’s pure sin. “No. Because it feels good. It was wrong of me to put you in that position.” He breathes. You sigh. “I liked it.” You breathe. “I think about it all of the time, try to replicate the way I felt myself but I can’t even come close.” You whimper, pushing your hips toward the end of the bench, clenching your thighs together. His eyes travel down, seeing your reaction to just the thought of him alone. He turns away from you, he needs to get the fuck out of here before he does anything else. “You’ll learn. It’s best you figure out what your body likes best before you trust someone else with it.” He reassures you. You nod your head. “It’s been years and nothing makes it feel better.” You laugh. A part of you knows that you’re teasing him. But another part of you doesn’t realize just how hard you’re making him. “What do you mean?” He asks. “I.. I’ve been getting this.. tightness in my stomach. I didn’t know that.. it was.” You blush. “I didn’t know it was because I was turned on. Until I was talking to some friends at school a couple years ago and heard them talking about sex and what felt good. No matter how I touch myself, it just doesn’t feel right.” You breathe. “But.. when you did it..” you shift in your seat. “Changed everything.” You breathe. You’re a horny mess on his bench right now, and he’s doing everything he can to hold himself back.

He notices your dad pulling out of your driveway though the small window in his garage, off to work. Your mom had already left for her night shift job as well.

You were completely alone with John. For hours.

“What does it feel like?” You ask. Looking up at him. He moves forward, sitting next to you on the bench. Turning himself toward you. “What?” He asks. “Sex?” You chew on your lip. “For me? It’s amazing. It feels.. you know how I touched you? It feels like that but a hundred times better.” He breathes. “But for you? It’ll hurt. Because you’re still a Virgin.” He sighs. “Does it always hurt?” You ask. “No, just the first time. The second time may be a little uncomfortable. Your body just has to get used to it.” He explains. “How bad does it hurt?” You look up at him. “It.. it depends.” You tilt your head. Looking confused. “Depends on the size of your partner.” He avoids your curious gaze.

John had to clench his eyes closed so that the thought of you, whimpering as you take him down travels through the depths of his mind. “Would you take advantage of me?” You ask. “What? Of course not.” He breathes. You reach out, grasping his hand and pulling it into you. Setting it onto your thigh. “Y/N.” He breathes. His chest is tight. He hasn’t felt this riled up in forever, how on earth you’re making him feel like this is beyond him. It’s wrong, so wrong.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, John.” He draws his hand away from your thigh, pushing it up passed your cheek. Resting it there. “I was wrong. To touch you like that. I shouldn’t have done what I did.” He breathes. He can feel the frustration radiating off of you. “Please..” you mewl. “I can’t do it, no matter what I do.” You whimper. You’re breaking him. He sighs. Placing his hand down on your thigh. Sliding it up a little bit. “It’s wrong darling. I don’t want to take advantage of you, you’re just desperate.” He breathes. You climb up into his lap, breathing out as you straddle one of his thighs. “Shit-“ he breathes. You rock your hips into his thighs, whimpering at the friction you feel. He hisses at the warmth between your legs. He can’t keep it together anymore. Something about you using him to get off just sends him spiraling. He rests his hands on your hips, pushing your dress up onto your hips. He guides you into him, groaning out. “John..” you whimper. “Yeah?”

“I want to know what it feels like.” You look up at him. “What?”

“Sex.” You whimper. He holds your hips steady. Looking deep into your eyes. “Y/N.” He sighs. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. I’ll hurt you, real bad.” He breathes. “I trust you, John. I want you to do it.” You breathe. “You said so yourself, you wouldn’t take advantage of me.”

He sighs. “Of course not, but.. this is so important and it should be with someone you love.” You look up at him. He sighs at the look you have in your eyes, gleaming so bright, so full of trust for him. He feels like a creep for having such relations with you. He lifts you up, walking you inside of his house. He sits down on his couch with you still in his lap, looking at you. “I can help you out, but you should save yourself for someone special. Yeah?” You nod your head. He moves your panties to the side, rubbing gentle circles into your clit and you whimper, rocking your hips into his hand. He circles your wet hole with one of his fingers and pushes it into you. You grind down into his finger.

“So desperate..” He trails off, admiring you. You’re basically riding his fingers and he’s enjoying it, lifting his hand into you. “John.. please.” You whimper. “Baby.. you don’t know what you’re asking for.” He chuckles at your desperation. You look at him, wiggling away from him. “What are you doing?” He asks. You slide down onto your knees and his eyes widen when you slide your hands up his clothed thighs. He rests his hands at his sides, letting you do this even though he knows he shouldn’t let you. “Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into?” He smirks down at you. You glare up at him, that same bratty attitude showing through.

John never thought he’d see the day, you’re pouting because he won’t take your virginity.

You nibble at your lip nervously as you unbutton his jeans, they needed to be washed because he smelled like gear oil and dust but something about him, dirty hands, messed up hair since he’d discarded his beanie somewhere between here and there. He looked messy and that’s enough to want him. Aside from the fact that he’s who he is. The first man that’s ever put his hands on you, drew fire into your skin and put it out with his cold touch. You’re zoned out as you work his cock from his jeans, thinking about that day on his boat. What he did to you. What he started. He lit a fire inside of you that day, made you crave him. You can’t sleep without thinking of him. Can’t eat without imagining him and his tongue and the way he devoured you like it was the tastiest meal ever put in front of him.

His fingers moving through you expertly, painting out the finest art, drawing the sweetest symphony from your lips and calming the harshest ocean brewing in your stomach with just a swirl of his tongue.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you reveal him to you for the first time and you’re realizing exactly why he’s said what he said.

You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.

But there’s some beauty in the unknown right?

You take the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the tip, and his eyes widen. A gasp leaves his lips as you suck gently on the tip, taking him further and further with each bob of your head. “Huh- oh fuck-“ he breathes. Hands clutching at the cushions of his couch. You’re nervous to do something wrong, worried about hurting him.

The lewd noises coming from your lips as you suck him harder, his eyebrows raising as you cup his balls, showing them some attention too. He lets his head rest back onto the couch. Wrapping a hand in your hair, guiding you to take him further down. “You’re so pretty.” He breathes. “Such a good girl, could fool me with how good you are at this.” He smiles, knowing his praises egg you on more and more. He rests one of his arms over the back of his couch and when you look up at him, pretty eyes, gleaming with need. He’s got his answer.

He pushes you off of him, nearly busting right then and there with that look in your eyes. He lifts you up, helping you wrap your thighs around his waist. He holds you into him, only one arm wrapped around your back. He walks with you back into his bedroom. The walls are a dark grey color, silk sheets to match. He has dark curtains that keep the daylight out and he sets you down on the edge of his bed. He grasps the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. You don’t fully register what’s going on, but excitement settles into your stomach because a part of you knows what he’s going to do to you. “I can’t imagine fumbling a girl like you.” He breathes. Pushing you back onto his bed. “I just realized through all of this I haven’t even kissed those pretty lips yet, such an asshole of me.” He breathes. He hovers over you, leaning into you and kissing you. He holds a hand over your throat, not putting an pressure against you but holding you still as he attacks your lips with his. You’re a mess, turned on and desperate for him. His facial hair scratches you, leaving a permanent burn behind as he pulls away. He cups your breasts through your dress, massaging them gently. He kisses your bare chest, moans slipping passed your lips. He pushes your dress up onto your hips, pulling you forward so that he can help you take it off. He missed the sight of you, exposed to him. “If I would’ve been your age, had a chance to be with a girl like you…” he trails off, shaking his head with a laugh as he pushes your legs apart. “I would worship the fucking ground you walk on darling, and you’re telling me they’re out here- insulting the sexiest parts of you..” he kisses down your stomach, the attraction you feel for him is overwhelming, you want his hands on you.

You want him between your legs.

Your wishes are granted as he presses a gentle kiss to your clit and a whimper leaves your lips. At long last, he’s finally touching you again. Panties pulled to the side.

It doesn’t last long. He laps at your entrance with his tongue for just a couple minutes before he’s pulling away, licking his lips. “If I do this..” he breathes, moving himself up the bed once more. “You can’t take it back.”

You nod your head. “I know.” You whimper. He sighs.

He’s an awful friend. An awful person.

He pushes his jeans down the rest of the way, pulling your panties down your legs, discarding everything between the both of you, in the way of him taking what’s his.

“I’m a little out of practice. I have nothing..” he breathes. “It’s okay.” You look up at him.

He spits in his hand, slicking up the tip of his cock. Pushing your legs up on him and brushing the tip of his cock over your opening. Your heart is pounding in your chest, pumping blood through you at a rapid rate. “I’m going to hurt you okay? You just have to get through it once and I promise I won’t hurt you anymore.” You nod your head. “I trust you John. It’s okay.”

He’s such a scumbag. He’s got to be at his lowest. He shouldn’t be doing what he’s doing.

But he can’t pull away from you. He’s too far gone.

He pushes the tip of his cock through your folds and you clutch hard at the bed as he starts to slide himself into you more. He’s surprised how easy it is despite the way you’re clamping down around him. “Fuck.. you’re so wet pretty girl.” He gasps. A whimper leaves your lips as he slides deeper, a sob leaving your lips as he wraps his arms tight around you and burying himself into you in one deep thrust. You’re shaking a little bit, he knows it hurt. Knows how uncomfortable you are. Tears are gathering in your eyes, filling up the channel of your tear ducts. “It’s okay darling. It’s over.” He breathes. He nudges your cheek with his nose, kissing you as an attempt to soothe you. You’re panting hard, biting your lip.

That’s it.

His cock is nestled inside the tight cavern between your legs. He’s taken it.

He slides out of you, and you clutch at his blanket, whimpering out. Tears stream down your cheeks. “It’s alright baby. You’ll get used to me. Just relax.” He kisses you again, rocking his hips into yours. He’s going slow, letting you get used to the way your walls wrap around him. It takes a few minutes but eventually, you’re pushing him away from you slightly, widening your legs so that you could see him, all of him. His cock is wet, a little bit of your blood from the tear but mostly your arousal and you’re watching him slide into you.

“Oh my god-“ you whimper. “I.. I feel so full.” You cry. He chuckles at your reaction. “Yeah.. you’re taking all of me.” He smiles. Pushing your thighs up so that you could see him disappear inside of you, burying his cock to the hilt. “Fuck.. I can’t believe.. you just took my-“ you moan out when he picks up his pace. “Your pussy is so fucking sweet.” he shakes his head, in complete disbelief that someone could feel this good. He speeds up his pace even more, you can’t keep yourself together at the feeling of him. You’re a mess, moaning out, whimpering his name. Just like he imagined you would be. He rests his hand on your lower stomach, holding you steady. He lowers his hand, pressing the pad of thumb against your clit, smiling at how swollen it is. You’re so horny, so needy for him. He rubs gentle circles into it, knowing how easy you’re going to get overstimulated. “You’re such a brat.” He chuckles. “My spoiled little brat. Can’t make yourself cum so you have me do it all for you.” Your eyes are closed and your head is tilted back but you’re smiling. “Are you complaining?” You giggle. “Not at all.”

A gasp leaves your lips as he pushes down on your clit harder. Feeling your hips squirm away from his touch. He feels you clench down around him, and he knows you’ve got to be close. He tilts his head back, adams apple bobbing as he swallows hard, he’s got a death grip on your thighs. “John!” You mewl. “That’s it baby. Cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He breathes.

Those 4 words, you’ve heard in every filthy movie you’ve ever seen, never imagined that you’d ever hear them for yourself, from John Price, your dads best friend of all people. You’re tumbling over that abrupt edge, coming around him with the loudest moan you’re sure you’ve ever let out. You’re clamping hard down around him. Pussy pulsing around him. It’s the hardest you think you’ll ever cum, vision going white. John shivers at the tightness of you, barely remembering to pull out of you as he reaches his own orgasm, gritting his teeth as he coats your stomach in thick white ropes of his cum.

He relaxes, taking in deep breaths. “Fucking hell.” He pants.

He smiles, turning his head away from you to hide the way he blushes at the sight of you. Watery eyes, swollen lips. Your cheeks are flushed red. You look completely fucked out.

He lays next to you, calming himself down.

He helps you get cleaned up and holds you close to him for a few hours, talking about random things until your eyes are growing heavy. “How about we go get you tucked in Ah?” He smiles. He’s let you borrow one of his shirts, and you swim in it. It smells like him.

You nod your head. “I want you to stay but.. we’d both fall asleep and your dad would freak out.” He laughs. You smile at him. “Damn right he would. Thank you for working on my car John.” You smile. He leads you out to his garage once more. “No problem. If it has anymore issues just let me know. I’ll take care of you.” He kisses your lips one more time before you climb inside. He opens the garage door and you pull out, giving him a small wave.

His touch lingers on you, traces of his fingers where they permanently etched into your skin.

This was a night you’ll never forget.

@sonyanightmare @kou00 @queen-ilmaree

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader : THAT’S NOT MAMA!

Your husband had just texted you from his at home studio that the official trailer for his movie, White Men Can’t Jump, was out.

You had suggested watching it together in the living room, kids included, to see their reaction to their dad doing something else other than music.

“Ugh dad I was playing.” Ez says grumpily.

“You’ll go back soon, let’s just watch this real quick.” The four of you are sitting across the television.

You’re biting your nails due to nerves. He did warn you about some specific scenes, but you told him you understood.

“Ohhh daddy, is this your movie?” Mia asks, the trailer already playing.

“Yeah bug, this is it.” Jack tells her proudly.

“What is a white girl in Whole Foods?” Ez asks.

You and Jack share a laugh but continue watching it, the kids asking little questions here and there.

“Boo-boo juice that’s funny and looks nasty daddy.”

“Yeah I don’t wanna drink that. Yuck.” Ezequiel pretends to barf.

Mia gasps, “Daddy, that’s not nice.”

“What?”

“You making fun of his ears.”

“It’s part of the movie bug.” You tell her.

“Did you say sorry after?”

Jack nods, “I did princess.”

Once the trailer was over, you see Ezequiel whispering something in Mia’s ear. They both turn to look at Jack.

“Can we watch it again?” Mia asks him.

Of course Jack plays it again for them.

“STOP PAUSE.” Ez yells.

“What?” You ask him, getting worried.

“See Mia, there.” Ezequiel stands up and points to the television.

Mia stands up and walks towards her brother and they have a mini conversation you can’t hear. Both their little arms are making movements in the air.

Once they are done, they both turn to look at Jack and glare at him.

“W-what did I do?” He’s confused, looking at you then back at the kids.

“THAT.” Ez points. “NOT MOMMA. YOU IN BIG TROUBLE.”

“You can’t kiss other girls daddy, that’s bad bad, like really bad.” Mia tells him, her eyes are getting watery.

“Do you not love mommy?”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to muffle your laugh from the kids.

“What? Of course I love mommy.”

“Then why kiss other girl huh?” Ez asks him, his hands on his waist.

“It’s just a movie, little man, it’s fake.”

“Fake? I see it there, kissing her and laughing. It’s no funny.”

“Ezequiel, some movies or most movies aren’t real. It’s acting, you’ll understand more when you’re a bit older. But I promise you, I love your mommy.” Jack tries to reassure the kids.

“You okay momma?” Your sons come up to you, holding your hands.

You smile at him. “Yes my baby boy, I’m totally fine.”

“Okay.” He then walks to Jack. “Cool movie.” They fist bump and Ezequiel walks out the living room and back to the playroom.

Mia is standing by the television.

“You okay bug?” Jack asks her.

“You and mommy okay? You not moving houses like Nino Urby and Nina?”

“Oh baby.” Jack carries her to his chest. “I promise you, mommy and I are more than okay. We love each other so much, we’re not going anywhere.”

“That hurt my feelings, but you sound funny in your movie daddy. You’re a star.” Mia tells him, while playing with his beard.

“Thank you princess.” He kisses her head and sets her down.

“No more being sad baby, like daddy told Ez, it’s all part of the movie. Your daddy isn’t going anywhere.” You reassure your daughter.

“Okay mommy.” She hugs you. “Going to make sure Cheesy isn’t doing a mess.” She runs off to the playroom.

Jack is staring at you with raised eyebrows. “What Jackman?”

“Our kids were ready to knock me out.”

You chuckle. “No they were not.”

“Babe, yes they were, I was scared for my life. I thought Ezequiel was about to punch me.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You laugh, going up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m proud of you though.”

That makes him smile, he places his hands on your ass. “Yeah? Even with the kiss scene?”

“The kids gave you enough shit about it, I’ll save my comments to myself.” You play with his KY chain, your favorite chain on him.

“Oh so you did feel some type of way about it?” He squeezes both ass cheeks, smirking about it.

You roll your eyes and playful smack him on his chest. “You are loving this aren’t you?”

He nods, “It takes me back to when you first showed your jealous side.”

“We are not going there Jackman.” You glare at him, but then smile. “But I’ll get my revenge for it though, you just wait and see.”

“Wait what?”

“My next music video, let’s just say it’s not YouTube appropriate.”

“Y/N that’s not fair.”

“It’s okay baby, because it’s all fake right?” You smirk and get on your tippy toes to peck him. “But I am proud of you bubs, I can’t wait to watch it.”

“Maybe without the kids?” He suggests.

You laugh at that, “If you don’t want mini glares the entire time, then yes that’s best.”

You two share a kiss and you continue to tell him how proud you are of him. He gets shy whenever you praise him, so you enjoy it every single time.

“MOM, DAD, EZEQUIEL IS ANNOYING.”

“NO I’M NOT.”

“YES YOU ARE, STOP SAYING THAT.”

You and Jack share a look and smile.

“DON’T WORRY MAMI.. DON’T WORRY MAMI. DON’T WORRY MAMI.” Ezequiel yells out plenty of times, probably to annoy his sister even more.

“What are you saying?” You laugh, walking into the playroom.

“It’s from daddy’s movie, his friend was saying it.” Ez shrugs, referring to Sinqua Walls' line.

“He’s being annoying dad.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, and it’s mommy not mami.” Mia huffles in annoyance. “You don’t even make sense.”

“Uncle Sunni calls the girls mami, so I do know.”

“Okay, enough kids.”

“Oh can I get a flame gun for Christmas? Like in your movie?”

“NO.”

“Maybe next time we won’t show them any of our future projects.” You suggest.

Jack nods, “Sounds like a plan.”

•

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree

[stargirlrchive]

anissa, if you dont share your mean! dilf jake thoughts with the class🤔

sam ily so bad hello??

mean!dilf jake thoughts under the cut ! NSFW - MINORS DNI

content warnings: hc style, mean jake, p in v, afab!reader, marking/biting, thigh riding, slightly public sex (you’ll see), edging/orgasm denial/control (wtv u wanna call it), clit spanking (grrrrrr!), dacryphilia, aftercare ; i think that is all lol

this mf is possessive! but it’s so subtle (to you) you don’t even notice! 

marking/biting is something he’s so into, like he finds it so funny that you try to cover up his bite mark, or the way your face burns darker when you notice other people staring at the indentation 

AND HE WOULD BITE YOU IN THE SAME PLACE EVERY TIME (you love it even though you grumble about it)

he's always touching you, like he always has you on his lap, or wrapping his tail around your leg, hand on your neck etc

when he has you sitting on his lap (especially if you're joining in a meeting) he’ll purposely be shifting his legs under you, so he can lightly grind you against his thigh, just to see you squirm and try to hide how overwhelmed you’re getting. 

this mf is laughing in your ear, purposely dragging his fingers along your lower stomach or your thighs but won’t even bat an eye in your direction. going over plans for the next raid as if he’s not getting you off on his thigh

when he notices your unable to keep still he’ll pin your hips down with one of his big hands, keeping you from moving and his chest will literally puff at the pathetic little whimpers you’re trying to hide because you were so fucking close

then he’ll send you off, as is nothing happened and make you wait till the nighttime to finally get your fix

and he’ll keep edging you until you’re a crying mess

your hips are trying to grind into his hand and he’ll mumble over how greedy you’re being

“always trying to take more than what i’m giving you”

clit slaps (mhm!)

he’ll feel bad but then notices the way you tighten around his fingers and he gets over it pretty quickly

he’ll only slip the tip in and pin your hips to the floor as you try push him in deeper because it’s been hours and he still hasn’t let you cum 

he’ll tsk quietly trying to rile you up more, “think this is all you’re gonna get, honey.”

you’re whining and whimpering, hot tears falling down your face, your words all jumbled up together but he understands what you need

you’re so sensitive and you swallow him eagerly, your fluttering around him and soooo desperate but still trying to be so good for him he finally caves

he’ll be maneuvering you any which way he wants and he fucking loves it

you come pretty quickly because you’re so overstimulated and he’ll make sure to make up for it by getting another one out of you

almost always cums inside of you cause you both enjoy it, the first time you told him to do it he came so hard he swore he got dizzy 

aftercare goes fucking crazy 

it’s like a switch and he’s so fucking sweet, cleaning you up, making sure you’re hydrated, massaging your body to ease all the tension 

so many kisses and sweet words and praises 

“did s’good for me” 

“i love you!” like after every five words

makes sure you fall asleep before him, just trying to make sure you’re comfortable and pleased (you are)

lowkey feels bad the next day when he sees you wobbling around w sore legs so he’ll tell you to take a day off and tends to your every need! (as he should)

[chvnnie]

My hard this today are soft dom bossy Chan. Literally desperate for a kiss, willing to follow any command.

It’s a Chan day and I LOVE it.

SMUT - MINORS DNI

Anything baby could ever want, baby gets. You don’t even have to ask, really; just bat your lashes at him and push your lower lip out a teeny bit, and he’s at your service.

Hungry? Let’s feed you. Sleepy? Lay your head on his chest, he’ll keep you warm. Need a new book/dress/literally anything? Charge it to his card.

Chan makes sure the world is at the palm of your hands. It’s what you deserve, after all. If anything, he wishes he could give you more.

But today, you’re request is simple.

“Pleaaaassseee?” You whine playfully, scooting the rolly chair across the tiny studio to be right next to him. “Just one?”

Your boyfriend doesn’t look up from his laptop, headphone only covering one ear to listen to your pleas. “Give me like…three more minutes, baby. I just really need to finish this—“

“It’s just a kiss, Chan.”

The way his eyes shut when he sighs tugs on his heart. He hasn’t been sleeping much, too busy trying to ready everything for this comeback that he’s put himself on the backburner. You’ve been giving him space and support, wanting to be there for him during his busy season. Understanding when he doesn’t come home or answer calls, or when he has to leave mid date night because Jisung deleted a file…again.

But you really feel like this isn’t a big ask. That’s why you keep pressing it.

“Baby, please.” He finally looks at you, and the exhaustion is heavy in his dark eyes. “My focus is going to break if I stop for even a second. Let me do this, and then I’m all yours. I promise.”

It’s not a big ask from him. It’s only a short amount of time — you probably won’t even notice it passing.

But God, his lips are so soft. So plush. You just want to feel them, to bite them.

With a pout, you roll back over to your corner. Pick up your book, mumbling an “‘Kay” in defeat. Want for nothing your ass; you’ve never been so desperate for something.

Each second feels like hours. Minutes like years. Chan lied — it took him five. Five whole minutes, and then the headphones are haphazardly thrown on the desk. Click, click, click. File save AND locked to prevent it from “disappearing” (“I swear, hyung!” Jisung whined over the phone. “I didn’t do anything it just…disappeared!”).

“Baaaaaby.” He singsongs, this time scooting over to you. “Guess what time it is—“

The look you shoot him makes him pause his movements, only making it about halfway. Eyebrows raised, he tilts his head to the side in confusion.

“What’s wrong—“

“Don’t wanna talk.” You say, pulling your knees to your chest. Pretending to be too into your book to pay him mind. “Just give me three minutes.”

With a sigh, your boyfriend takes his beanie off. “Baby-“

“All I wanted was a kiss.” You pout even harder, dropping the paperback book on the desk. “But noooooo.”

The fuss your making about a little kiss is a little much. It wasn’t like it was that long of a time to wait, it’s already over. Normally, Chan wouldn’t entertain this type of behavior. Would correct it immediately — this? This is the hill you want to die on?

But today it’s so…cute. He can’t help but chuckle, continuing his journey over to you.

“Aww, pouty girl.” He coos, reaching out to pinch your cheek. You try to swat his hand away, but he’s not budging. “No need for all this.”

“Chan.” You try your best to keep your voice firm, as if he can’t feel your cheeks flushing, the heat burning his fingertips. “Stop it—“

“If you want one so bad, come get it.”

His tone is playful. So, you give in. Using your chair, you get closer to him. Chan is perfectly still, giving you a smile as you close in on him. Nose to nose, lips not even an inch apart—

Pushing on his toes, he slides his chair all the way across the room.

“That’s not fair!”

“Oh? Do you not want it then?” His smile grows wicked. He knows what you want — but silly, silly girl. Did you think it would be that easy? “Come on, then.”

Thus starts the game. You get out of the chair, rushing over to him. You get all the way into his lap, closing in quickly when he dodges your lips. As you cry out in frustration, he grabs your hips. Stands up. Turning on his heels, your back is now pressed to the wall.

“You’ve got to try harder!” He laughs. “It’s like you don’t really want it.”

“You’re mean.” You pout, palms finding his shoulders and attempting to push him away. As if you’re not pinned to the wall. Under his mercy.

“Oh, am I?” His voice is laced with faux sadness, the fake emotion taking over his entire face. Lips, eyes, brows. Acting like your insult cut him deep. “That’s not nice.”

Right as you start to speak, a hand flies from your hips. Gripping your throat and squeezing until he hears a squeak.

“But you know what else isn’t nice?” It’s like a switch was flipped; eyes now dark, expression like stone. “When you get bratty with me from a simple request.”

How he manages to unbutton your jeans and shove them down with one hand, you’ll never understand. Or try to process; everything about Chan’s demeanor has rendered you useless. Watching with wide eyes, whimpering brokenly. Savoring the little gasps of air.

“Was it worth it?” Fingers run up and down your folds roughly, not bothering to be gentle with you. When they brush against your clit, you start to squirm. “That silly little kiss?”

He asks as if you’ve gotten it. You pout, trying to speak hopelessly. “S-still need it—“

“I don’t think so.” He clicks his tongue. “I’ll decide what you need.”

Without warning, two fingers sink inside your cunt. Stopping only when he hits the knuckle. There he spreads them, scissoring your walls open. The hands on his shoulders grip his hoodie. His grip, his fingers — it’s already making you dizzy.

“Silly baby.” Once he deems his work enough, Chan starts to plunge his fingers deeper. Making sure to feel every inch of you. “Maybe next time you should let Daddy work.”

[pervcoded]

bark and bite starring sukuna ryomen

content warning: there's a weird tension in this whole fic. some violence. cursing. threats and intimidation. sfw (minors still go away). reader refers to their chest as 'tits'.

“So I wanted it right here,” You drawl, pointing to an unmarked expanse of your skin, and Sukuna takes a moment to observe what other flesh remains untouched. You are so thoroughly marked with ink, he muses, it must also run through your veins.  He knows a bad egg when he sees one - a snake slipping down your spine, the teardrop on your cheek. Eyes like you might hurt someone. Mouth that gets you into trouble.

You stare back at him. His ear twitches ever so slightly. “You hear me, stud?”  You’re talking too much already. Your fingers run over your ribs again, and you glare pointedly in his direction.

He’s gonna get to that attitude in just a bit.

“I want it black and white. Halftone. Here’s the picture.” He doesn’t look at it long.

“Yeah,” Sukuna licks his lips, a fanged tooth poking out when he doesn’t quite smile. “I got you, pup.” 

Your fellow humans should have warned you about him. He had fostered a particular reputation in his time in the scene - beyond the rough demeanor and sweet ink. 

He’s never been too careful with humans. But who’s fault is that, hm? Your kind really ought to know better.

Your skin is too soft for his machine. You’ll struggle too much when he has to hold you in place, whimper when the needle punches your skin. You will grab onto his arm. You will cry. You will beg, and it will hurt anyway; because Sukuna does not put down the needle until he is finished. Here, you are subject to the whims of this domain.

But you act like you know. Roll your shoulders and say ‘c’mon’, like you understand what you’re getting yourself into.  You are insistent, confident even, laughed at the ‘humans, beware’ poster that hung at the back of his studio. So he laughed with you - or maybe at you - harsh and scathing and putting a pin in your misplaced joy.

Sukuna is no lap dog. His tall cropped ears stab in the direction of the ceiling, tail still and stiff at your approach. Though, now that you’ve seen him up close, you don’t think it’s there at all. His attire is off-puttingly casual, the graphic print on his chest stretched so wide across a glorious chest, that the color is starting to fade a little. You tried to keep your eyes focused on his. Ignored the claws, ignored the teeth, ignored the heat under your collar. 

The dog flicked his head to the side, gaze never leaving yours. 

“Get on the table.” 

It felt more like a threat than an invitation. You eased yourself onto the cot, Sukuna disappearing into your periphery a moment as you begin to pull your shirt up to your neck. You don’t take it off fully, and it makes his eyes narrow. As you situate yourself properly, you find his eyes drifting up your body, back to your neck. The shirt. He waits, needle in hand, staring down expectantly.

You zoned out a bit. This guy’s beside manner was just as mediocre as the wolf with the black fur that recommended him to you. Last time you take advice from a dog.

“What’s your problem, stud?” Your lip is obnoxious. You’d look much better on your knees, presenting your tongue. “Getting an eyeful of tits ain’t good enough for you is it? Fuckin’ mutt.”

You chuff, pulling your top over your head, baring your neck.  “Go on.” You goad, “You wanna take a fucking bite?” You’re scared; the scent pours off of you in waves, and Sukuna feels the barest inkling of amusement. The rush to his face and sparkling in his nerves as the flesh is so carelessly exposed. Licks his teeth.

 “Do it, you fucking do-” He doesn’t give you the chance to finish before a hands’ clamping down on the tender flesh, your words meeting their fated end at the back of your throat. You don’t have fangs, but you bare them, anyway.

“I just might, pup.” He speeks coolly, detached from your outburst. “Definetly will if you don’t shut the fuck up. And keep still.” He seems to contemplate his ink machine while you try not to struggle, gone still on the table, but you still smell nervous. Tickles his nose juuuust right.

Gets an idea. It’s a bad one, but fitting for an uppity fuck like you he thinks. Need a big strong hand to guide you? So be it. But Sukuna will make sure everyone knows who you belong to.

He thinks a different tattoo is in order. On your lower back - emblazoned in black ink: SUKUNA’S BITCH.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ JJK/BANNER ART by gege akutami everything written by me @ciematis, is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.

[batterygarden]

step-cest w eren (F! reader) 18+ MDNI

cw: Very Submissive reader, taboo dynamics obvs, modern au, misogyny kink, sliiiiight dub con, size kink, back shots, cream pie, don't mind my kink for med students becoming more apparent each day, wk ab 1.9k

Little step-bro Eren, who you’re only a year older than, but who somehow you’ve always managed to take care of more than anyone else. He loves his sweet big sister—and he worries about you too, trying to make your life easier in little ways he can… till he’s horny.  

Till he wakes up in the middle of the night when you’re both staying at your parent’s house with a hard cock and a bad attitude, and sees your door cracked open across the hall. Till he finds you sprawled across bed in an old nightgown from highschool… it seems a lot smaller on you now than it was then. 

He doesn’t hesitate before he’s quietly stepping in, closing your door and locking it, mentally chiding you for failing to do that to begin with. Then he’s crawling onto your creaky mattress. It’s loud like he remembers—waking you immediately, but you don’t comment on his presence. You’re not surprised to find him here, waking you to slide his hands over your waist and bury his face in your chest—part of you somehow expects it every time you visit. Like Eren is a permanent fixture in your childhood bedroom—appearing invariably to hold you each night that you sleep here. 

“Your hands are cold, Rennie,” you eventually whisper.

“Wish you’d stop calling me that.”

You can’t see his face but you know he’s rolling his eyes at the old nickname, before huffing and nuzzling into your cleavage, holding you tight like a stress toy and breathing in your comforting scent. It reminds you of when you were kids. 

Back when he was still shorter than you and much less entitled, when he relied on you for everything. Because Eren was always busy being the family favorite, being encouraged to meet his potential, and you were always busy being there for him. Not that you could complain, it was hard not to love Eren, even if you were always a little jealous of him. Jealous of how smart he was, how praised he was, how you could never understand his conversations with your step-dad about politics and important stuff and you weren’t expected to—you were only ever asked to cook and clean and look pretty doing it.

You’ve grown out of any bitterness by now though. Now that Eren’s studying to go into the medical field and you’ve finally waited enough tables to afford culinary school, you figure there are certain roles people are born to play. 

Yours is underneath him. 

“Ngh Eren..” your voice is breathy as you whine his name, combing tired fingers through his soft locks while his lips drag across your skin. You wonder if he’s even slept at all tonight—he seems wide awake as he tugs your nightgown up, gathering the fabric above your tits for easier access. He’s about to dip his head back down the moment your nipples are exposed but he pauses, pinching the worn out fabric of your nightgown and flicking accusatory eyes up to your own. 

“This is kinda short on you now huh? Hope you’re not wearing it in front of anyone else.”

You blink at him patiently.

“Where would I possibly go in this, ‘Ren? I leave it here for when I visit.” 

“So you’re wearing it around my father?” 

“No! It’s just something comfy for sleeping. You’re being ridiculous.” 

He huffs but smiles, liking the way your voice stays soft when you correct him. Sweet. He loves his sweet pushover of a sister so much. So much he can’t help but wanna break you.

So he’s harsh when he brings his mouth back to your skin—kissing, almost biting his way to your nipples, leaving a wet trail of bruises that has your brows knitting together. When he swirls his tongue around a nipple he almost whimpers at the gentle touch of your fingers in his hair, raking it away from his face and twisting it behind his head the way he likes. The way you keep your fingers delicate, so careful not to pull his hair only makes him want to be rougher—he wants to be the contrast to everything you do. Your calm brings out his aggression—and soon he’s abandoning your soft tits to flip you over, feeling a rush when you let him easily—complying and conforming to his needs like it’s second nature. You don’t like the way he flipped you though—he didn’t even give you a warning! But you’re conditioned to be careful when you chastise him—Eren’s spoiled and dramatic and his attitude’s only gotten worse through the years—so your voice sounds like an angel when you look back at him and frown.

“Be careful with me, ‘Ren. Please.”

He answers with a hard squeeze of your hips that has your breath hitching and a thumb in the waistband of your panties, his voice every bit as saintly as your own when he murmurs a little sorry. 

His voice—all sugary and innocent like that reminds you of a memory, back when you both still lived at home and eren used the same tone on your mother when she caught him sneaking a girl over on a weekday. He’d given you these big pleading eyes right before she talked to him and gotten you to cover for him. You had easily, despite how unfair it was that no one had covered for you when you were grounded a month for the same thing one year prior. You swear, that stupid voice could carry Eren anywhere—out of any situation. Into your panties for one. It would earn him forgiveness at the pearly gates, you’re certain. 

When he pulls your underwear down and guides you onto all fours, you’re not sure your contemplation brings you more envy or self-loathing or both. Of course it’s all forgotten when he brings his tip to your folds, and you remember how stretched you’re about to become. 

“Slow, please,” you murmur, your voice a whisper like butterfly wings. He chuckles and squeezes your hips again, and you close your eyes before he thrusts half way inside you in one go. The push knocks your arms out from under you, smushing your face into your mattress with a gasp—it would have knocked your legs down too, had he not been holding your hips stationary. And it stings—it feels like he’s splitting you in half—which is the same as always, but you’d asked him to go slow. So you turn your neck back to glare at him, furrowing your brows while you grip onto the sheets, but that look only spurs him on—he’s morbidly curious what you’ll do if he keeps pushing you. It has him thrusting all the way inside in one more movement. 

You can’t even hold his eyes to reprimand him. You’re too busy working to catch the breath that was knocked out of your lungs, closing your eyes so tight your vision litters with tiny dots. 

Eren’s merciful enough not to move till you’re breathing again, but as soon as you’ve collected yourself enough to scold him for his harsh treatment, he pulls out almost all the way before you can say a word. You’re left with a hollow feeling that makes you whine, longing for his cock in a pitiful way that clears your head of any complaints you held a moment ago. But he pauses there.

“Ren, please...” you try to wiggle back towards him, anything to return the lost feeling there, but he doesn’t budge. Instead he watches you as a cruel smile grows on his face, deciding he’d prefer your explicit permission before he has his way with you. 

“What is it, princess? Please what?” 

You groan. “‘at’s childish of you ‘Ren…”

“Just want you to be more specific!” He says with his annoyingly virtuous tone, his thumbs rubbing little circles over your ass. 

You try to thrust yourself back but he holds your hips in place—you miss when he wasn’t so strong. You’re left no choice but to give up your brief fit of pride and dignity.

“Please… please fuck me ‘Ren. Need your cock.” 

He chuckles out of his nose, giving you a sarcastic ohhh before driving forward and setting a ruthless pace—at least you couldn’t complain when you asked for it.You’re quickly fisting whatever you can reach as a lifeline, biting whatever pillows or sheets lie below you—you can hardly distinguish your surroundings. The world around you is dark and fuzzy in an instant, all you can focus on is the hammering of Eren’s dick against your cervix again and again, so deep you feel it in your chest. You don’t even notice the harsh palm to your back, arching you into what should be an uncomfortable position, nor the sound of the mattress and Eren’s panting getting louder (loud enough your parents could possibly hear all the way in their room upstairs). The sound you do recognize is the slapping—echoing in your ears each thrust as Eren’s balls hit your clit, each slap seems to bounce in your skull on a loop, layering in volume. 

Soon you’re on the edge of orgasm without recollection of how you got here or how much time’s passed, only finding your voice to whine your brother’s name.

“Erenn. Coming.” 

His breath hitches at the words, feeling how you’re starting to tighten around him. 

“Let it go, princess—hah—come on me.” 

You already are by the time he finishes his sentence, twitching and moaning around him, making the slapping sound wetter. 

He doesn’t take long before he’s right behind you, finally painting the inside of his big sister white like he’d wanted to. 

After he empties the last of his cum deep inside you, he finally releases his vice grip on your hips and your legs instantly turn to jelly beneath you. You collapse forward, unable to move a muscle to even look at Eren while he mops up the sticky mess of your thighs—unaware he’s using your old nightgown.

He crawls up to hold you close for a minute then, his arm around you while he watches your dazed face, listening to make sure your breathing evens out. He traces your features while he waits, playing with your hair a little, even your fingers. He thinks it’s funny how long you take to recover from a good fuck, but he figures now’s not the time to tease you on it. 

When your breaths finally do become more normal, and your eyes open to find his face in front of you, you raise your eyebrows not unkindly as if to say well? What are you still doing here?, a gentle smile on your face. 

His expression morphs into a mischievous one, before he pinches your ass.

“Hey!” You swat at his hand, covering yourself in the bedsheets. 

“What’d you do that for!” 

He’s already standing by your door with his sweatpants pulled on, not even facing you. 

“G’night.” He steps out without another word, closing your door behind him. 

[neo404]

PLS DO A PT 2 TO YOUR FTM READER AND NICK FIC PLS AS A TRANS GUY I LOVED IT SM

Eye roll part 2.

Summary: just continuing from where I left it.

Tw: nsfw, degradation, spanking.

‘’But not yes, honey. You have been bad, so you’ll have to wait.’’ He smirks, I love when he is confident, it looks so hot on him. ‘’On the floor, now.’’ As he sits on the edge of the bed I move as fast as I can, kneeling in front of him. He tilts his head. ‘’What are you waiting for? Suck.’’ I feel the blush rushing into my cheeks, reaching out I untie and slide down his sweatpants and boxers. He grabs a fistful of my hair and guides me closer to him, I kiss the tip and then put most of it into my mouth, at first its slow, until I get used to it, he starts using the hand on the back of my head to go deeper and faster. He’s moaning and grunting, it sends shivers down my throat, my eyes are watering, I feel myself getting more needy and wet.

After 2 or 3 minutes he stops. Lifts my face with a hand on my jaw. ‘’Good job, slut.’’ He pats my head and wipes a few tears that feel down, I can only pant as I try to catch my breath. ‘’Across my lap, come on.’’ He taps his thigh twice, and I obey, sticking my ass up a bit. ‘’Count to 10, don’t mess up or I’ll have to restart. Be a good dumb toy and you’ll get your reward.’’ I nod eagerly, and then.

Slap.

‘’Shit. One.’’

‘’That’s it.’’ Another slap.

‘’Two.’’ And another.

‘’Three.’’ Until we got up to ten. I think my ass is red, it hurts a lot. Nicks cold hands are caressing it.

‘’See, it wasn’t that bad, you are just a whiny boy. On all fours, now.’’ I move trying to ignore the burning sensation, I get on my hand and knees, lowering my chest and face into the bed, hugging the pillow below me.

‘’Since you took your punishment well, you’ll get to cum, only when I say so, you got that?’’ I nod, then I feel a soft spank on my ass. ‘’Words, or are you to dumb to speak?’’

‘’N-no. I mean yes, I understand. Please do it.’’ He laughs and kisses the red marks on my bottom.

‘’Good fucking slut.’’ I feel two of his fingers gliding my entrance and clit, teasing me even more. Until he puts both of them inside suddenly, I let out a breathy moan and bury my face into the pillow. ‘’Don’t be shy, this is was you wanted.’’ His two fingers are pumping inside of me at a fast pace, I whine and moan into the pillow, my legs shaking and my hips rolling.

‘’Please, please, want you, need you.’’

He pulls his fingers out and slaps my pussy gently. I look back at him, the same hand he used for me is now on his cock, pumping it and lining it up with my hole. With the other hand he grabs me by my hair and buries my face into the pillow, slamming how cock with full force inside me, the pillow muffles my loud moan.

‘’Shit, the fuck. How are you always so tight?’’ he groans, now both hands on my waist, rocking his hips slowly for a while, then his pace starts to speed up, I bite down on the pillow, his moans and groans making me go crazy. Slap, another spank. ‘’Get you mouth out of the fucking pillow, I wanna hear you, want everyone to hear you.’’ I can’t lift my head, I’m so drunk on him I don’t register what he’s asking me to do, until he grabs me by the hair and pulls me up, thrusting even deeper and faster, now the room is filled with my loud moans and whines.

‘’That’s it, let everyone hear what a slut you are, just for me. My slut.’’

‘’Fuck, please, please, I need to… I’m gonna…’’ he stops, I let out a loud whine, falling face first into the pillow, he manhandles me so I’m on my back now. He puts my legs over his shoulder and starts thrusting at full speed again, knocking the breath out of me, one hand on my waist, the other drawing circles on my clit. My mind is fuzzy and I can hold it in any longer.

‘’Now. Cum.’’ His voice is so low, sounding almost like a growl. My back arches and I let myself go, I hear his thrust getting sloppy, his legs are shaking, his moans more uncontrollable. He pulls out releasing all over me. ‘’Shit, oh god…’’ we catch out breath, he leans down kissing my forehead gently. ‘’Good job baby, you did so good. I gonna clean us up. Wait here.’’

----------

‘’God, I love Ru Paul’s drag race!!’’ Nick says as he squeals like a fanboy. I can’t believe he just rearranged my insides and he’s rambling about Ru Paul. I love him so much.

I TRIED MY BEST. i hope you all like it.

take care, be kind.

[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Arkham!Black Mask x GN!Reader word count: 750 a/n: usually i'm all no pregnant only breeding kink, but something about being chosen to carry on the sionis line? sign me the fuck UP cw: reader is afab and plus size, doll is used as a pet name, heavy on the breeding kink, cockwarming, unprotected sex, daddy kink 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

As you straddled Roman’s lap you had to remind yourself to take it slow, since that’s what he had requested. A difficult task, given how desperate you were for him, but you enjoyed a challenge.

“How much more d’you think you can take, doll?”

Roman’s hands smoothed over the sides of your body, fingers pressing into the rolls created by the miniscule amount of clothing you wore as he traced over them. It wasn’t entirely unusual for him to be this gentle, but even so, this was like experiencing him in a completely different light. He was romantic, affectionate, but right now he was adoring.

“I don’t want this to be a bad memory… it’s gotta be good, y’know?”

Nodding, understanding his desire to make sure this was as pleasant as possible, you eased your body down, lowering yourself onto his cock, taking more of him inside of you. He watched carefully, eyes wide, pupils blown, as another inch disappeared within you, stretching you, caressed by your clenching walls.

“Fuck… fuck fuck fuck… takin’ it well, as always.”

He winked, his smile wide, a familiar cruelty behind it, the way he looked when he got his way, which was always. But you watched it open wide into a gasp as you took him in completely, letting him fill you with his thick, stiff cock as he groaned in relief.

As you began to roll your hips forward, desperate to feel him throbbing against your insides, he grabbed your waist. There was a stern look on his face, not quite the aggressive glare that his enemies were on the receiving end of, but one that told you he was serious in the gesture.

“Sit still, doll. I want to remember this… how it feels to have you wrapped around me, tight and warm… I just wanna be inside you, ‘kay?”

You did as you were asked, but you could feel yourself clenching, body twitching as it tried to find some pleasure in the motions, to experience Roman’s impressive girth battering against you like usual. There was satisfaction in this though, in ways you hadn’t expected from him. His eyes looking at only you, taking you in completely, no distractions, no closing his eyes in feral lust. They were wide, appreciative, as he memorised how you looked on top of him. How your body felt, so warm and sot and plush.

“Only you could have me losin’ my god damn fuckin’ mind just by letting me wet my dick, ‘know that?”

With your hands on his chest, the smooth texture of his silk, white shirt on your palms, you giggled, skin prickling as you felt his appreciative growl rumble through his body.

“Just knowing what I’m about to do to you… it’s got me close to the edge.”

“Tell me… tell me what you’re going to do to me, daddy.”

The emphasis you put on the word had him tensing up under you, his cock twitching unmistakably inside your dripping cunt. You were riling him up, giving him exactly what he wanted.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Paint your fuckin’ walls with my seed, let it get in there deep…”

One hand moved to your cheek, caressing it softly as he continued.

“I’m gonna make you mine… breed you, mark my territory, make sure everyone knows who your daddy is.”

Your muscles tightened, stomach clenching as you felt your body flushing, heart pounding at the notion of being Roman’s so publicly and undeniably.

“You wanna be a part of something bigger, don’t you doll? Wanna continue the Sionis line with me?”

All you could manage was a nod, biting your lip to stifle any begging and pleading and whining, worried you might put him off if you were anything but perfect for him in that moment.

“Let me cum in you then, let me stamp my fuckin name all over that beautiful body. You ready?”

You weren’t sure what words finally came out, but they were loud, keening, and completely unnoticed by Roman who yelled over them himself, a slurred ambush of expletives and compliments intertwined as he came hard and fast and long, body trembling beneath you as the final waves of his orgasm shuddered over him.

And then his hands were back around your waist, holding you there in position as he offered you another wink.

“Not so fast, doll. You’re not getting off of me until I’m sure it’s deep enough inside you. Can’t leave until there’s a part of me going with you.”

[spctrsgf]

Hi! I had this idea if you would like to write. So reader and Steven go out in nature and make crowns from flowers. Reader is confident in their work, while Steven keeps saying that he doesn't know how to do it, and that it won't be good. They agree to give eachother theirs and reader is like surprised that he made it so good and starts talking about it, and then looks at Steven, who put the crown on, and is speechless how beautiful he is.

crown of daisies

word count: 1kish

warnings: language, teeth rotting fluff

a/n: anon, i am SO sorry that this took me literal months to finish, but i have been so demotivated i feel so bad :((( anyways here it is !!!

“I’m just going to make a bloody fool of myself. I don’t even know how to do it!” Steven protests, squeezing your shoulders from where his hands were placed. Your head tilts to study the way his eyebrows slip up, defaulting in worry. 

“Steven, it’s fine. I’ll teach you!” Your hands trek up his chest and come to rest on his cheeks. “But that’s embarrassing.” He whines. Always so adamant. You step closer, directing his head downwards to place a kiss in between his furrowed eyebrows.

“It’s not embarrassing.”

“It is.”

“It’s not,” you lament the word with another kiss, this one to his nose. You love the way it crinkles when you do that. “It’s cute.”

His eyes catch on your smiling lips. “Is it?”

“It is. It really is.”

“You promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“I would never.”

He huffs, pushing your hands— that were now trying to curl around his neck— away. “Bullshit.”

“Aw, Stevie, don’t be that way—”

“I’m going home.” He turns and walks away, leaving you and your picnic in the dust. 

You smile wickedly, knowing this adamance would last not two minutes before he came back. Instead of standing and waiting, you bend down and start picking daisies off of the ground. He was just gonna make a fuss about picking these up anyway. It wasn’t hard to stock up; they were quite literally everywhere.

True to your assumption, the Brit grumbles and mumbles back to you right on time, plopping himself unceremoniously onto the blanket. You squeeze his shoulder absentmindedly as you slide by him, picking at a particularly rich patch of grass. He trails your movements with a keen sort of gaze, steady enough that you too could feel it rest on your spine.

All the flowers have been plucked not long after, and you turn to smile brightly at Steven with them gathered in your hands. You hurry back over, fueled by the perpetual push of childish excitement. Steven tilts his head in amusement at the sight, a smile touching the edges of his lips. It’s silly, and you’re both probably a sight for sore eyes, but neither of you could find a care in the world to fix it. 

“Okay,” you breath out between heaves of your chest, plopping yourself across from your boyfriend, snagging a bite of the food you’d brought. “Ready?” He swallows, nodding. Something about the way you look at him, hopeful and excited and yet so incredibly understanding of his reservations tells him that this couldn’t be all that bad. 

“You wanna swap crowns when we’re done?” 

He bites down a smile. Adorable. “Sure.”

“Perfect! Okay, it’s relatively easy. Here, get two flowers…” 

And he learns. He only watches your deft fingers at first, enthralled by the way you laughed when the stem broke, the way you cheered when it didn’t. You notice after a while that he’s made no progress on his own flower crown, so you scoot yourself over to his side and guide his hands through the motions. Once he’s caught on, you leave him be, going back to your spot to work on your own crown. 

After you deem your crown big enough to fit on your head– and finally get the last knot to do the right thing, which took several minutes in itself– you bring the craft to hide behind your back. You gaze over at Steven, curious to see how his crown is going.

But he's already leaning over you, gingerly placing his crown on top of your head. Your eyes follow his movements, smiling mindlessly. He sits back, raking his eyes over his work nervously. Before he can get a word out, you're clambering over to him to place your own atop his mess of curls.

His hands fly up to pat the crown as soon as you lean far away enough for him to, obscuring your view. “Tell me if yours looks okay.” He tilts his head towards your phone, to which you oblige, opening up the camera app. 

And your jaw drops.

For someone who was as nervous and apprehensive as he was, you're blown away. Even for someone with experience, you'd still be blown away. You run your fingers along the flowers, amazed at how he managed to tie them without breaking several stems. 

“Steven, oh my gods,” you say without looking up, still admiring the crown. “It's amazing. How'd you even do this so well?” He snorts, and you can see him shift out of the corner of your eye. “I just did what you told me to do.”

“Yeah, but– what the fuck??? It’s literally perfect. I can't even do that.”

“I think yours is absolutely stunning, love.”

“Nah, I think it could've been better if the stems didn't break.” Your head tilts back up to him in order to let you glare. 

But you don't even get a chance to frown. You couldn't possibly frown. Not when he looked like that. 

The crown, still on his head, seemed to be systematically placed so that all the flowers peeked out at you from behind rich brown curls. His eyes, a hypnotizing swirl of milk and dark chocolate, peer at you in his trademark gaze. It makes your head swim.

Steven leans forward as his head tilts to the side, gently bringing his hand to the bottom of your chin, closing your mouth. He sits back down, smiling bright at your glare. “Didn't want you to catch any flies in there. That would be unsanitary.” You chuckle drily. “So considerate.”

“Just looking out for you.”

You snort. “Sure. That wasn't to be cheeky.”

“Not at all.”

“Whatever.”

“You love me.” He nudges your leg with his shoe.

You roll your eyes, knowing he knew the answer.

Of course you do.