#just... trying to get inside her head y'know?

[sky-scribbles]

There's some kind of connecting thread - and I can't quite articulate what it is - between Laudna's reaction to Bor'dor's betrayal, her reaction to Ashton taking the fire shard, and Orym carrying Otohan's sword.

In all three situations, someone deeply, deeply hurt did something that was grounded in their personal grief. And in all three cases, Laudna's reaction was of extreme, personal betrayal. (This isn't critical of Laudna, btw; she's a fascinating character and I think Marisha is doing an incredible job of leaning into the reality of how trauma can make you act in heightened, messy ways that are very difficult for everyone around you.)

Everyone was hurt and shaken by what happened with Bor'dor and Ashton, and understandably so, but I think it's telling that Laudna phrased both events as, specifically, a betrayal. 'I can't be betrayed again,' as she drains the life from Bor'dor (as opposed to, say, Orym's attitude toward killing Bor'dor, which was less 'we need to kill him because he betrayed us' and more 'this is a grim necessity, because we are at war.') Ashton does something incredibly ill-judged, and Laudna's interepretation of it is 'they betrayed us.'

Orym takes Otohan's sword, and Laudna sees it, again, as a personal affront. She challenges him for having the audacity to carry it. The sword killed her. (It also killed half the people in the room, including Orym.)

Something... something about how Laudna saw Ashton trying to absorb a powerful magical artefact because he'd convinced himself it was the right thing to do, and felt so injured that she ran into the forest for a night. Something about how Laudna tried to absorb a magical artefact because she'd convinced herself that it was the right thing to do, and felt injured by Orym's defiance.

I don't have a clear point here; Laudna isn't a character I've studied as closely as some others (and I would very much appreciate anyone who has been analysing her more deeply offering any input!) But one thought I had is this: Laudna once said that the worst thing that could have happened to her has already happened. And I think maybe Laudna sees what happened to her as the worst thing that could happen to anyone. It seems hard for her to understand how much the actions of those around her - be it Bor'dor being radicalised, Ashton going about their attempt to understand themself in entirely the wrong way, Orym trying to reclaim a painful piece of his past and turn it into a promise - can be rooted in a pain that might be equal to her own.

Of course, it's hard to tell how much of it is Laudna at this point and how much is Delilah, but... honestly, it is such a bold choice for Marisha to do this. Because this is what trauma does. It makes things feel personal that might not be directed at you at all. It makes your grief into an enormous monolith that towers over your life, and can overshadow, in your head, anyone else's. It makes you want to protect yourself in every way possible when a flicker of it occurs again.

And... I think it's another sign of how much Delilah is taking from Laudna. Because who in this story has been fixated on their own grief and loss, to the point of ignoring the pain they cause in their attempt to fix that loss at any cost, than Delilah Briarwood?

[crookedteethed]

⋆ ★ you and rafe having a argument midfuck...

18+ smut (pinv), squirting, cursing, angst, spit kink, high-key toxic relationship, (accused) cheating, Toxic!Manipulative! Rafe, mentions of ocs

a/n: putting this fic out until I'm done writing part two of how I slept with your father. Also thanks for all the love and support 💕

You'd been lying on your side; your leg rested on the curve of Rafe's shoulder. Your hand, the one that wasn't periodically stimulating your clit, had been clenched in a fist with your head resting on top of it. 

Your body moved with each hard thrust of Rafe's thick cock, and though the pleasure of Rafe's length never failed to make you feel good, you stayed there emotionless, staring bitterly into the cerulean color of Rafe's eyes.  

You couldn't help but wonder how you had arrived at this point, where physical pleasure no longer carried any emotional weight. The once-intense connection between you and Rafe had momentarily faded, leaving only a hollow emptiness in its wake.

Rafe had been staring at your glistening slit and your little hole, outstretched and turning red from the never-ending penetration of his cock. 

He figured something was wrong with you because you hadn't moaned, not even when he let a glob of his spit plop down onto your pussy and fucked it inside of you; you usually liked when he did stuff like that. 

And though Rafe could have asked if there was something he'd done wrong (which he was sure he did), he didn't risk it; after all, you'd let him fuck you to sleep, so you couldn't be that mad at him. 

"Switch." he told you, moving your leg from his shoulder and resting both your legs on his sides, where he slotted his body between you and started fucking you in missionary. 

"Do you think Courtney fucks good?" You asked.

Rafe stilled inside you momentarily, taking a moment to match a face to the name "Courtney".

He slowly begins moving inside your warmth, the sound of bodies connecting going "plap...plap...plap".

"Who's Courtney?"

You leaned up to where you rested on your elbows, now your nose, and eyes leveled with Rafe's. 

"Y'know, that red-head chick who bartends at the country club." You said. 

Rafe had told you 'no,' that he didn't know any red-headed girl named Courtney who bartended at the country club, but deep down, he knew exactly who you'd been talking about. Everyone at the country club knew of Courtney--particularly the guys, having given her the nickname "cherry" for her loud red hair and double d size tits. 

"The girl you always give good tips to and always joke with, that's Courtney, that should jog your memory." You said.

Rafe had a feeling you wouldn't let this go, so just as he adjusted himself on his knees, and pulled both of your calfs on his shoulders, He pretends to realize, saying "Ah, that's Courtney."

"Yeah, her." you say.

The both of you stayed silent for a moment, Rafe's cock still plunging deep inside of you. There had been a moment when you'd felt the tip of his cock kiss your g-spot, causing you to roll your eyes to the back of your head and clinch hard around his length.

"Fuckk." he drags, kissing your temples, and squeezing your left breast.

"So, do you think she fucks good?" You ask again.

"Who?" Rafe plays dumb.

"Courtney, who else?"

"How should I know?" Rafe grumbled, agitation wrangling over his face, and as a consequence, his grip on your hips tightened, and he started fucking into you faster, and just for the sake of your comfort, you retracted your legs back to your sides.

You looked down to where you and Rafe connected; it had been a gaudy mess of spit, sweat, and arousal--the result of trying to get yourselves off for hours. 

As Rafe pounded into you, you found it suddenly hard to keep your composer. It was challenging to hold yourself up on your elbows and even more difficult to form a coherent sentence that didn't involve long pauses, quiet moans, and panted 'fucks.' 

But you had to confront Rafe about Courtney. Now would be the only good time, and he couldn't walk away or turn this into a big screaming match. 

He had the serenity of your pussy to keep him calm and rooted. 

So you pushed through the immense feeling of pleasure. 

"Why'd you ask me about Courtney?" 

Rafe may have been cruising on uncharted territory, but he just had to know what you have heard about him recently. 

"Well, you know how every fucking kook goes to the country club?" You asked, and Rafe hadn't said anything. "And you know how all of our friends are kooks and you know how people talk?" Rafe kept fucking into you. 

"I heard while I was away in Venice for my father's birthday, you were seen with Courtney." 

"No shit." Rafe said. "She's the bartender at the Country club, and I go to the bar a lot, y/n." 

And as if it was possible, Rafe brought your ass and pussy closer to him, his cock nudging that spongey spot inside of you repeatedly. 

And though you wanted to drag this moment for as long as possible, you also wanted that knot in your belly to finally snap. 

"Outside of the bar at the Country Club, Ray--Can you rub my clit?" 

Your breath hitched at the rough flesh of Rafe's thumb, circling your little bud. 

"At one of your parties, to be exact." You panted. "Everyone said the whole night you looked like you wanted to fuck her, so that's why I asked; I wanted to know if you think she would fuck better than me; if so, you can fuck her and not me.” you scold.

As time went on, it felt like the amount of pressure Rafe applied to your clit increased, and the feeling of his cock slotting in and out of your cunt seemed to be never-ending, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

"Shit." He cursed; you assumed he was close to his peak as well. "And who the hell is everyone?" He said over the sound of flesh slapping into flesh. 

"My friends." You mewled. 

"Those jealous bitches? Trina--isn't she one of your friends? She was practically on my dick all night, but because your friends said I was talking to another girl that's not you, I'm the bad guy? Fuck that." he spat, his thrust getting deeper and deeper--more sloppier. 

"Rafe, I'm--I'm." you moaned. 

"Shut up, I'm talking now. I'm getting sick of your shit, Y/n. Just because of your insecurities, I can't live my life. How am I going to be in a relationship with someone that constantly accuses me of cheating?" 

Just then, as Rafe's hips hitched from him spilling inside of you (unbeknownst to you), you came undone. You'd been a squirter, so you squeezed your eyes tight as your cunt gushed uncontrollably around Rafe's cock. 

Some of your arousal soaked Rafe's pelvis, the sheets of your shared bed, and even some splashed onto your stomach. 

Rafe had gotten to you. 

As he got up and put his disregarded clothes back on, you sat on your knees on the edge of the bed, watching him. 

"I'm sorry, Rafe. Don't be mad at me. I should have thought things through." you cried. 

"You're always saying that shit." He spat, putting his shoes on. 

You brought your palms to your teary eyes as Rafe hovered over you. 

"I expect my bedsheets to be replaced by the time I get back." He said. 

"Where are you going?" you asked him.

"Don't you have a tracker on my car or some shit? You'll find out." He scoffed, and with that being said, he left. 

Truth be told, you hadn't put a tracker on Rafe's car—nor his phone, which he was grateful for because if he had a tracker on him, he wouldn't be picking up Courtney from her shift at the country club, where they would fuck in his car for about an hour, pick up something to eat, probably fuck again, and then he'd drop her off on the south side of the outer banks.

And to be even more truthful, Rafe would feel like him fucking Courtney wouldn't entirely be his fault; after all, he'd gotten the idea from you. 

[frogchiro]

COYOTE-GRAVES CHASING AFTER FARM-CAT READER!

Just a pretty little kitty that enjoys the finer things in life, lazily patrols the farm for this and that- reporting back to guard dog Ghost occasionally.

She’s out on the far part of the pasture, lazing around when she see’s Graves behind the fence.

Oh- he’s calling out to her! Hm- she get’s up and slowly starts to walk away like she never heard him- oh he jumped the fence! Maybe walk a little faster- Fuck! He’s following her! Time to run!

Her fluffy groomed behind sprinting back to the barn with Graves snapping at her heels, crazy about this *pretty* little kitty. He knows that you’re a kitty- you’re not meant to take his knot, you’re not really big enough to take his knot but, your body isn’t built to take his knot, BUT! it’s worth trying sweet girl! Get back here!

While you’re just trying to find Guard dog Ghost- why can you never find his scary ass when you need him!!!! Bastard!

(Maybe you try and dart for the doggy door of the house *but, it’s a door for actual dogs* and your ass get’s stuck half way through the door.)

Imagine Ghost’s surprise to hear his kitty howling her head off with Graves shuffled up behind her trying to shove his knot in. Just relax a little kitty!

You have no idea that this ask has been knocking around my brain all day now

And the day started out so good for you too!! :(( You woke up snuggled all warm and happy between the two huge farm guard dogs, Simon and Johnny, who, before you went out on your own, manage to sneak a little nip here and there and tickled you with their tongues a bit, y'know for a good start Kitty!

The 'lucky' tongue tickling didn't do it's job though since now you have a pervy and very horny Coyote Hybrid chasing after you >:( You've seen the wild blonde hybrid before on the premises of the farm, always lurking and stalking when the sun was setting, his eerie eyes almost glowing in the setting light making you meow and run away back to the barn where your nest is and now he's chasing after you bc he wants to mate :((

And as you're running Philip is both horny and frustrated; why are you running?? Come back pretty girl! Sure you're smaller than him and his knot can be a challenge but c'mon Kitty, he promises it will be worth it! He's very virile and strong, he can take good care of you!

Besides it's not like it will be your first time taking dick and knot this big; Philip is lurking around the farm for a while now and has seen you mate so much with the huge guard dog hybrids, Ghost and Soap, that he's actually surprised that you're not knocked up with a litter of pups by now. Not to mention that he saw you sniffing and slinking around that mean old bull, Price, who always charges at him on sight >:(

Imagine Ghost's and Johnny's rage when they find poor you held down by Philip who literally dragged you out of that doggy door and is now thrusting without abandon as you yowl and moan, your soft, broad hips high with your tail fluffed up as the mean Coyote tries to fit his fat knot inside your cunt with a nasty smirk on his annoyingly handsome face </3

[appocalipse]

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

[sturnioz]

♯┆fully introducing. . . shy!chris .ᐟ

shy!chris does have a big mouth, and he likes to boast about all the women that he's fucked with confidence — so why did he turn into a stuttering mess when you finally have him?

"yeah, and like, she was all over me, man — couldn't get enough of me, i swear to god... and then—"

you half-listen as chris boast about his recent hook-up to your shared group of friends, swirling your plastic straw around your drink, hearing the ice clink against the glass in a distant chime. leaning forwards, elbows resting on the table, you take a sip while glancing up at chris, watching as his hands fly through the air, punctuating his words as he tries to paint a vivid picture of his wild night.

the others around the table are completely captivated, their mouths agape, eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and excitement. they gasp, laugh, and lean in closer, hanging on his every word. now and then, they playfully slap his back or shoulder, egging him on as he basks in the attention. listen in intently, mouths agape, eyes wide, gasping and laughing at his choice of words, even slapping his back and shoulder as he boasts.

honestly? you find it hard to believe him.

sure, chris is extremely attractive — his messy hair, striking smile, pearly whites, and a charm that easily draws people in. it wouldn't exactly be shocking if he was meeting girls. but the sheer number he claims to get into his bed, and the way he describes the way he fucks, it just doesn't add up.

he always blushes whenever you and the girls in your group wear revealing outfits or bikinis during beach trips, his eyes always darting away as if he's trying to hide from them. that shy, stuttering awkwardness feels worlds apart from the confident persona he projects during these apparent hook-up talks.

"who is she?" you find yourself chiming into the conversation, not missing the way chris' body seems to tense up for a moment before forcing smiling, shaking his head.

"i uh, i don't know. some girl i met at a party. i.. don't remember the names of one-night stands, y'know? doesn't.. doesn't make sense if i do, right?" chris looks around at the others for their approval, and some nod their heads with a hum. "as long as i gave her a good time, which i did, that's all the matters—"

"you went to a party?" the words slip out before you can stop yourself. you know you should ease off, especially if it risks making a complete fool out of him, but you can't stop. "when?"

"like... last weekend, yeah," chris nods, almost as if he's confirming it for himself. you hum softly, and chris fidgets in his seat, turning to face you fully, raising his eyebrow. "do you.. do you not believe me, or somethin'?"

"no, i'm just... curious," you reply with a grin, teeth biting down on the straw in your drink. chris stares at you for a moment, processing your words, before forcing out a laugh that feels a bit strained.

"curious about my sex life?" chris huffs, nudging a friend beside him with a playful elbow. "she wants proof, kid. wants to see how good this dick is—"

"actually, yeah," you cut in, your voice steady. chris freezes up, his eyes widening in surprise as the others at the table gape at you, their expressions a mix of shock and amusement.

you know you should probably stop now, but something inside you urges to push back. you want to challenge him, and playing with his little jab feels like the only way to do that.

you lean back in your seat, arms crossed, a smirk playing on your lips as you continue, "i want to know how great you claim to be in bed."

now, you didn't expect to chris to actually nod his head and go through with it — acting all smug and confident in front of your friends. it was clear he took what you said as a joke, and that irked you a little bit, so you stand up from the table, telling him to leave the diner with you right now. chris is stunned again, blinking rapidly as if he couldn't quite process your sudden demand, and a light blush creeps across his cheeks as he laughs nervously, standing up and following you out.

and what you also didn't expect was for chris to be laid out beneath you, his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure and plush lips parted with heavy gasps as you ride him, the blankets bunched loose around your waist. his cock does hit all the right places, and truthfully it feels extremely good, but you're pleased to see how much of a stuttering mess he is as his hands grip your thighs, jumbled words leaving his lips.

"oh ffuuuck.. jus' — ah... shit. l-like that, please. oh god... you're so — this feels — you feel... oh shit shit shit. m'sorry.. not gonna last. god, you're fuckin' amazing."

© STURNIOZ

[lint-beetle4]

Wukong x Fem Reader smut

Wukong with a breeding kink and Y/n who's very motherly, especially with the little monkeys and that just fuels his kink more as well as the idea of having a family with her.

King and His Queen (Sun Wukong x Fem!Reader Smut)

Wukong knew you were the one the moment that you started to coo at the his younger subjects, eager to baby them and learn how to care for them

What more could a king ask of his queen then to help in the raising of his subjects?

Wukong would help new mothers with their children, and sometimes just take the younger ones out of their hands for the older monkeys to get some peace

With you at his side? He could feel an old emotion stir in his gut as you gushed over his baby monkeys

He always talked fondly about the littler subjects, how they were full of spark and innocence

The way you smiled at them had his heart stuttering, and the way you presented a child to him made his instincts buzz in him

It was a fantasy of his for you to bear his child, for him to be able to claim you as his mate by dumping his seed into you

He almost felt embarrassed by it, but the prospect of having a family with you was just as enticing

Wukong felt his old age at the thought of how time would pass away so quickly with a family like that

He wants to see your kids walk and talk, learn about the world outside of them and listen to Wukong's tales

Wukong wanted nothing more than to have cubs of his own, with you and the moment he asked he felt rather silly at the way he stammered through the question, watching your face shift from confused to understanding in record time

"I just think--y'know--if we had..um--" Wukong took a deep breath trying to force the words out of his mouth. "Cubs, y'know? Of course, this is a serious commitment and all but--"

You shushed Wukong with a knowing and excited smile. Wukong never seemed to get over his stage freight, even if the stage was simply the way you patiently waited for him to finish. Knowing your poor lover would tie his tongue trying to finish his proposal, you nodded.

"I would love to bear your cubs, Wukong." You hugged him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around with gently. "It would make me so happy if we could raise a family together."

Wukong laughed wetly, grabbing your face to kiss you as he tried his hardest to ignore the way his tears drenched his fur. You deepened the kiss, dragging Wukong closer to you as your heart pounded in your chest.

Wukong lifted you up, carrying you to your shared bedroom. He gave you a slight peck on the cheek, trailing down your neck as he removed your clothing, treating you as if you were porcelain. Wukong's hands fondled your breasts, brushing over nipples playfully as he bit onto your neck, sucking the skin tightly.

You hissed slightly, back arching as Wukong rolled your nipples between his fingers. His tongue was wet against the darkening bruise, and he trailed your body with more gentle kisses. With piercing gold eyes, Wukong never broke eye contact with you as he sucked on one of your breasts, biting the nipple slightly.

You moaned against him, your hips grinding against a well placed leg. As Wukong gave attention to other, your hands stroked his hair, fingers getting tangled in his wild mane. Wukong shivered at the way your nails scratched his scalp.

Wukong pulled away from your chest with an audible 'pop,' the sage's hand massaging your hips as his mouth breathed onto your wet pussy. Your hips bucked impatiently, Wukong sucking eagerly on your juices, his tongue sending waves of pleasure through your core. You whimper, hands holding Wukong's head closer as you grind into his face. Wukong ate you out furiously, lapping up your fluids as his tongue swirled around your clit.

You felt his fingers enter inside of you, curling slightly to hit your g-spot. You hum desperately as the duel sensation of his fingers and tongue overwhelmed you with intense waves of pleasure. Yet before you could cum, Wukong pulled away apologetically, holding his cock, wet with precum.

You spread your legs wider for him, begging him to enter.

Wordlessly, Wukong slid inside of you slowly, pausing to let you adjust to the painful stretch. At your command, Wukong bottomed out with a groan, his cock twitching inside of you.

"Breed me, Wukong." You breathed, grinding against his dick. "Fill me with your pups."

Wukong thrusted violent in you, more bites littering your neck as his movements become more desperate and animal-like. You wrapped your legs around the sage, his cock hitting deeply in your pussy. You continued to moan, nearly screaming as Wukong claw's tore through the covers.

With a growl and a final thrust, Wukong held you close, hugging you tightly as he filled you. You whimper, cumming around his cock. Wukong's purrs filled the air as he nuzzled against you, his cock still buried deep into you as it hardened once more.

"I'll fill you up, my queen." He muttered, hips thrusting once more. "I'll give you all my pups."

[stary-darlin]

LOVE DUEL

— boxer!ellie williams x reader

TROPE: strangers to lovers

SUMMARY: when work calls and you have nothing to do than follow your boss's rules, going to the WWE match that had a boxer you never saw before, same in her chillness when she fights and when she flirts with you infront of camera — basically fearing no one, and that what attracted you to her. Not knowing that she already had you in her wishlist of the life.

OTHER: mentions of misogyny, and just two horny mfs daydreamin' about each other :3

Ellie walked in with her coach behind her, with nothing more than the screams and chanting of her name echoing around the boxing match, her fans all around waving to her and trying to get her attention as if she was a goddess in front of them. And she loved every bit of it.

Her smirk wide from both sides of her face as she looked up at the audience, waving to them all, loving how all of their eyes were on her. She was not an attention seeker but she was an attention eater if you may say, the only difference between them both is that attention seekers are desperate for attention but Ellie? she receives it everywhere she goes, she doesn't have to work for it, the world itself was the one who needed her attention. I mean, come on, she's hot, she's smart, and she has the power of 100 men by herself. Of course, she didn't want anything after that, right? wrong. She wanted—she needed you. he interviewer who looked like a deer in the headlights with all the flashes going around the room, and she loved that about you. she loved how you looked like you were a masterpiece in an old man's house, his ass too old to even look at you for a second; overall just in the wrong place, and she would love to make herself your right place.

She took a seat on the bench infront of the boxing ring, taking her bottle from her coach and taking a sip, everyone's eyes were on her while her eyes were on you as you talked to the camera infront of you with that fake smile on that you thought you perfected but not to ellie though, she knew you. She knew you were holding your annoyance inside of you and smiling, acting happy as if you weren't scared of the men yelling by her side and chanting Ellie's opponent's name, thinking that ellie would lose because she is a women while the most gorgeous women is next to them, trying to hear through the ear-headset as you nodded. very misogynistic of them.

She smirked and waved to — you — the camera, winking as you kept the smile on, speaking about the information of ellie that you memorized from the day you got the papers sent to your desk. your hand gripping the microphone and the other brushing your hair through your fingers when the camera turned to the hallway as ellie's opponent came out, the man buffer than any man you ever saw in your whole life — which was full of skinny tired employees — gazing back at ellie, seeing that she already was looking at you with that same face-eating smirk of hers, not giving a flying fuck about the 10x sized man that was supposed to be her opponent.

All the cameras were on the opponent and ellie to catch their reactions to each other but Ellie was very much not there, waving and giggling like a little girl when she knew she catched your attention. walking to you, your team noticed it and used it to their advantage, pointing the camera at her and you before you started interviewing her.

"the infamous death-doer is here all of a sudden, i see." you spoke with a light tone, raising your brows as she smirked and tilted her head to the side, not even glancing at the camera.

"the infamous death-doer and ladies-attracter, y'know." she winked before laughing, her confidence over the hills. you giggled — a genuine giggle that ellie took as a compliment to herself — looking at her with those sweet-looking eyes that she would do anything to keep them in her direction.

"ladies-attracter, huh? why that nickname?" you crossed your arm, being comfortable for once since the whole time you were here. Ellie's fans screaming as they heard the nickname that ellie gave herself all of a sudden.

Ellie watched you smile with those lips of yours, oh how desperate she was for those lips of yours. "i mean aren't i one?" she raised a brow, looking up at her audience and back to you; half of the audience were girls, screaming from the top of their longs for her. you looked at her audience and chuckled, "guess it's your trait isn't it?" Ellie nodded proudly.

"well is being not scared from buff men one of your traits?" you asked, bringing the microphone to her. "you could say that, i just don't see what is so fearful about them. you only get the idea of scary because they take much space unlike what we usually see in a normal day, besides if it wasn't for their muscles and buffy arms they would be like any other man, useless, that's why they get that figure of theirs, to obtain dominance cause they don't have it without all that." she spoke confidently as she looked at the opponent and back to the camera for a second before shrugging her arms and looking back at you. "so that's your answer, darlin'"

"oh, that–" you stuttered as you looked at her with widened eyes, her words leaving you stunned. you let out a giggle, "i cannot give my opinion but you very much spoke my mind." you nodded. Ellie smiling as she heard your reply and seeing your reaction before seeing her coach waving to her to get ready. "well i will have to go, love. here," she took your hand and wrote on her number on it with the pen that you had in your cards, her handwriting cursive and rough with sharp edges like her routine in boxing that you watched last night to get to know her. Ellie turned your hand and kissed your knuckles before looking at your for the last time and walking to her coach.

You sat down as you watched the match begin, Ellie sitting in her corner of the boxing ring, manspreading with her eyes keeping an eye contact with her opponent, a smirk forms on the corner of her lips as she sees her opponent growl — trying to act scary, I guess — But it didn't work on her. She got up as soon as she saw the host standing infront of her, starting the match.

The size and height difference between the man and Ellie was very obvious, everyone doubted that she would lose except you. You believed she could do it if she had that real confidence and speed to hit her opponent at the right time. You were no expert in this but Ellie sure did, you watched four matches of hers since her debut and you saw that nothing changed. Same confidence, the same smirk, and the same hate for men. Maybe that was the thing that drove her to be who she is now; as professional as other boxers who said that no women could outstand them since they were stronger and took much longer to be who they were but Ellie pushed all that behind her it's nothing. You loved it, loved how she is who you want to be, who you desire to be with; and you wanted to know more about her.

Ellie raised her chin to the man, her expression calm, mocking him while he looked at her with an angry expression looking like a Buffalo getting ready to punch someone's ass, and no it wasn't her ass, it was his own.

Ellie let out a chuckle after the man tried to punch her straight in the face, which she dodged easily like it was a fly. Ellie took two steps back and he followed her by as if he was her little pup. Ellie quickly moved to the side, pulling his leg and making him fall so easily. The man let out a roar — yeah, maybe he was indeed a furry... — quickly getting himself up, throwing himself at her to pin her on the floor. Ellie noticed and moved away in a second as he fell on the floor like a cartoon character, she quickly sat on his back and twisted his arm behind his back with her other arm around his neck. Such an easy act that can make a bull weak in a second.

Everyone gasped at her sudden dominance over the guy who was supposed to win but didn't. The host quickly ran to the boxing ring and started counting down, Ellie keeping the man on the ground with all of the strength she had, her opponent unable to move his face slowly turning red as the host finally counted to zero. Ellie's audience stood up and screamed, chanting her name. Ellie stood up and jumped off the boxing ring like it was another Tuesday.

Every reporter watched her with their jaw on the ground. "That was– unbelievable! One round, just a couple of minutes, and the man is down!" You spoke as you looked at the camera. "For the first time, in boxing history, something like this happened before!"

Ellie's name echoed through the roof of the room, her bodyguards standing around her to portect her from the crowd that was running towards her. The spotlight was all on her, leaving the man with the failure of his own. She walked out through the hallway to her backstage, the guards closing the doors of the hallway to not let anyone get it, leaving you and the team to record the scene before it calms down.

You looked at your palm that had her number and wrote it down in your card, putting it in your bag so you could call her when you get home.

This seems like it will be a long journey, but hopefully it will be worth it.

All rights reserved to @stary-darlin , please do not copy, rewrite, translate my works on any other platform.

Requests are open!! <3

[ddejavvu]

Anakin with a corruption kink? Y/N’s really sweet and introverted and Anakin can’t stop but think in every single sexual thing he wants to do to her

obvious cw for corruption kink/mentions of virgin!reader, don’t like don’t read.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

he'd take so much sick, twisted pleasure in explaining different sexual acts to you. he likes watching you squirm, he likes watching your eyes go wide and your lips get all puffy and raw as you bite them to death, he likes watching you squeeze your thighs together like you can stop that insatiable ache between them. like he doesn't know what you're doing, like you're being subtle about it. you're not.

the grosser the sex act, the better. he starts you off by just asking whether you're familiar with different positions, but it gets progressively worse. he'll ask first about something simple like missionary or doggy, and if you know either one, he calls you dirty. like his thoughts aren't a thousand times worse, like he's not imagining you bound and gagged and covered in cum. but it works, he sees you inwardly cringe, he sees you get all flustered and shameful, and he loves it.

"you'd look good in a piledriver, baby. your neck all bent and achy, your hips up for me to fuck into. i'd get deeper, y'know, if your hips were up." he pats a rough hand on your hip, "i could fuck your needy hole so much better if I just-" / "anakin-!" / "what, you're getting all weird now? come on, it's just sex. everyone does it. except for you, huh? you've got a tight little virgin pussy, don't you, angel? you gonna let me in?"

and that's just the beginning. wait until he starts branching out a little.

"you know what a rimjob is, baby?" he'll ask, an infuriating little smirk on his face as he waits for your stammered response. when you shake your head he scoffs, "didn't think so. you gonna let me do it to you, angel?" he knows what he's doing, the power he's holding over you by being so elusive about the actual act. but all you have to do to find out is ask, why won't you just ask him? when you finally manage to gather the courage to mumble, "what.. is it?" his face drops into this shit-eating, devilish smirk, and he grabs your hips, jostling the globes of your ass. 'well, i'd make you lay on your stomach, and i'd press my face into your pretty ass, and i'd lick it out, baby. you gonna let me get my tongue in there? 'gonna let me shove my fuckin' tongue inside your ass like it's your pussy?"

you make this horribly flustered noise that's some awful cross between a squawk and a scream, and try to wrestle your hips out of his hold to go bury your burning face somewhere that his eyes aren't privy to. but he's relentless, fighting past your bashfulness and pinning you down to the bed while leaning in to kiss your red-hot face.

"what," he croons with faux-sympathy, "you're all antsy now? that got you hot-and-bothered, didn't it, thinking about my tongue in there. you're dirty, aren't you?"

when you don't answer he kisses you, and he feels the way your cunt drags against his thigh without you meaning for it to. he gets off so much on being the one to get you this way for the first time, and he's more than happy to mumble dirty shit in your mouth while he's licking it out.

"you're a nasty girl, y'know that? m'gonna put my tongue in you baby, like this-" he demonstrates with the slack ring of your lips, squeezing your cheeks until they form a hole and fucking his tongue inside to lap at your own while you helplessly grind against him, "fuck, i can feel you shivering. you like it when i talk nasty to you?"

[heich0e]

"what a surprise to see you here!"

you let out a long, weary sigh in the wake of the unduly jubilant exclamation, letting your bag hit the desk in front of you with a thump.

"i work here, gojo. just like you."

the aforementioned man steps into view around your shoulder, craning down into your face with that same easy grin he always wears—the one you find exhausting just to look at on days like today, because you know it means he plans on tormenting you for an extended period of time.

"and aren't we both so lucky to be here?" he hums, still smiling.

lucky?

you stand before him filthy and aching from the mission you'd just returned from, and with a night's worth of your students' assignments in hand you still need to grade by tomorrow morning. you're tired, and sore, and covered in curse guts and god only knows what else—and this smiling, obnoxious man hovering over you is calling you lucky.

you wish his blindfold was elasticated. if it was, you'd take hold of it, pull it back as far as you could, and let it snap it back over his eyes just to spite him.

"what do you want, gojo?" you don't even have the energy to sound annoyed anymore, the question leaving your lips in a lifeless monotone.

he pauses.

"you look terrible."

your head whips over to look at him again, and you immediately wince—a hand flying up to your neck. you think you must have strained it taking care of that last second grade curse. it hasn't been bothering you as much as the pain in your side, so you've mostly been ignoring it until now.

"gojo, if y—"

"gojo, gojo, gojo," he interrupts you before you can even manage to get the insult you'd been trying to say out. his tone is petulant, a little pout on his lips. "i've told you to call me satoru."

he enunciates each syllable of his name pointedly—like a reprimand.

"and why would I call you that?" you huff, tired of dealing with him. you grab your bag off the desktop, shove the stack of papers you'd come to your classroom to retrieve inside, and turn towards the door.

"because it's my name?" his tone lifts at the end like he's asking a question. "besides, you call sukuna by his name."

he's following along behind you. of course he's following behind you—you don't know why you expected to get away so easily.

"i call sukuna by his name because there's two itadoris now," you reply back, not that you owe him any kind of explanation. your steps are quick in spite of the stabbing pain in your side—literal, not figurative—but unfortunately it takes no effort at all for gojo to match your stride.

gojo groans a little. "how'd a guy that awful end up with such a cute little brother?" he whines, tipping his head back like he's lodging the complaint with a higher power. "my sweet yuuji and him have nothing in common beyond their family name."

you don't bother replying, stepping out from the main school building into the courtyard that leads towards the student dorms and teachers' residences. gojo is still close behind.

you find it ironic that gojo takes such issue with sukuna, a fellow sorcerer and jujutsu tech instructor, when there's no offence sukuna could be accused of that gojo himself is not equally guilty of committing. at least sukuna has the decency to not claim to be, well, decent.

there's something to be said for self-awareness.

"are you planning on following me the entire way home?" you ask him, irritation heavy in your voice.

"hey, i live there too, y'know," gojo counters.

barely, you can't help but think. gojo very rarely stays in his residence on campus. you're not sure where he spends all his time, whether it be a place off campus or even the gojo family compound, but you know it isn't here.

not that you particularly care.

"are geto and shoko busy tonight or something?" you ask again.

"suguru's away for a mission," gojo answers, seemingly not put off at all by the hostility in your tone. "shoko should be in her office, though."

you roll your eyes at his obvious evasion of your implication.

you freeze when you feel a hand touch your waist. the hand holding your bag goes limp at your side.

satoru is standing right behind you.

"your rib's broken."

it's quiet for a moment, but when you turn around, he's not smiling anymore and he's got his blindfold tugged down by one crooked finger. his eyes—the ones you so rarely see, the ones that make you feel equal parts awestruck and reviled—are on you.

"since shoko's in her office, you should go see her about it."

in one smooth motion, he covers his eyes again.

your teeth clench, your jaw tensing.

the next words you speak are barely audible through the barrier of your bite.

"what was that?" he asks, leaning forward in your space again.

you consider not repeating yourself, but all at once your resolve abandons you. you sigh, hanging your head and then you purse your lips in defeat.

"i c... i can't walk any further."

gojo laughs.

"i'm surprised you made it this far," he says, that bright smile of his back in place.

and so, a few minutes later, you find yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist as gojo carries you towards shoko's office in the infirmary.

"you're lucky i found you when i did, you know."

lucky. there he goes with that again.

you snort mirthlessly.

"and all you have to do to repay me is say 'thank you satoru!'" he exclaims, his voice rising an octave in what you can only assume is an offensive imitation of what you sound like to him.

"i'm not saying that," you mutter dourly, your grip on his neck tightening—though not enough to actually satisfy your desire to wring his neck.

"so stubborn," he tuts, but there's no real admonishment in his tone.

"i wouldn't call sukuna by his name if i didn't have to. but there's two itadoris, it just makes sense." you say after a while, the infirmary nearly in sight. you're grateful you're so close to relief, because the ache in your rib is so acute now that you're starting to feel lightheaded. you lean in closer to gojo's back as he carries you, letting him bear your weight a bit more. "there's only one gojo."

a breathy chuckle slips from his lips—so gentle it sounds almost involuntary. "only one gojo, huh?" he repeats your words, almost like he's mulling them over.

you hum affirmatively, letting your chin hook over his shoulder as he turns the final corner towards shoko's office. your eyes flutter closed. "yeah, lucky for me."

[marksbear2]

WILL GRAHAM X MALE READER

This is pure fluff and that’s something rare on this blog since I usually write smutt. But since I love this man sm he gets special treatment.

⚠️Warnings- fluff, healthy relationships, mentions marriage and starting a family. And etc.⚠️

— Likes to keep a picture of you in his wallet. He would give it a quick glance before heading into a case. Your picture is his little good luck charm.

— He wouldn't keep you a secret, but isn't open about it. For example he wouldn't talk about you for hours to someone (only with his dogs he does.) but if someone asked if he had a s/o he would tell them about you straight up.

— He still is very shy about asking you out on dates even though you two have been dating for a while.

— Mandatory fishing trips together.

— He most def wouldn't tell Hannibal about you. He wants you to stay the hell away from him.

— Probably tells you about the cases hes working on. Even if he isn't supposed to tell someone he'll tell you without hesitation if you asked.

— You being there when he's sleepwalking every step of the way. Even having to wake him up a few times.

— You and him sleeping together makes him fall asleep faster. To the point he can't sleep without you.

— He would like to vent to you if you let him. He'll just vent to you while cuddling with one of the dogs while you sit next to him and listen. After he's done and realizes what he'd done he'll feel embarrassed, but he trusts you even more.

— Jack coming to Will's house unexpectedly and opening the door and walks inside. "Will! I got-" Jack trails off looking down at you two play wrestler with the dogs. "Never mind." Jack says before leaving the house going back to his car.

— Likes to call you something traditional or something sweet. Like hun/honey, love,sugar, idiot or sometimes even bug. He didn't know where bug came from one day he called you it and never let it go. He means the pretty bugs y'know.

— He prefers holding hands rather than anything sexual.

— Walks around his property with the dogs.

— Late night conversations.

— Begins to tell you more about Hannibal as the days go by. Like what him and Hannibal were talking about and etc.

— Long warm hugs after he comes back home from work. Just standing in the middle of the doorway hugging each other in loving silence. Just silently reassuring each other.

— Him letting you play and style his hair. It helps him relax when you do it, so he asks you to do it more often.

— Constantly reassuring him that you love him because he's an insecure mess and overthinks a lot. Like you don't love him or you're just using him.

— Him smiling to himself just at the thought of you or the mention of your name.

— Drinking coffee together at the front porch in early in the morning just enjoying the others company.

— Him waking you up after he has a nightmare. He curls up in your chest holding onto your clothes tightly as you cradle him in your lap kissing the top of his head. "I'm here Will. Don't worry baby i'm right here."

— Him having nightmares about losing you to the point he tells Hannibal about you and his fear of losing you, because he couldn't keep it to himself anymore.

— Will refusing the offer to let you two meet over dinner. Like he shot down the proposal so fast.

— Ms Lounds trying to get you to speak about Will. Like trying to make you spill all the bad things you know about him. And you just give her the bird and walk away.

— You two probably getting married either in the forest or by a dock.

— I think he's fine with the dogs, but if he ever wants to start a real family he'll want like two daughters and one boy.

— He side eyes you whenever he thinks your being weird or something. And he’ll give you the silent treatment after a long argument.

THE END

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Royal Rivalries !! ´ˎ˗

Luke Castellan x Fem!Zeus!Reader Synopsis: wedding dress try ons go... wrong? Tag(s): ROYAL AU, cursing, smut I fear.., masturbation, fingering, fem!receiving oral Word Count: 2805

╰➤ MASTERLIST pt3

"Finally you're back," you groaned as you pulled your sister in a soul crushing hug. "It's been treacherous here without you."

"I know I know, I'm beautiful and amazing, and its hard to live with me as your amazing-"

"Buffer," you cut in. "Your an amazing sister, but an even better buffer between me and father."

"Well, I wouldn't have put it like that but if you insist."

"Come here," you grabbed Thalia by the wrist and ignored her questioning you on where you were taking her. Once you reached your room, you rushed Thalia in, shutting the doors, and running to your bed and screaming into your pillows.

"Feels like we've been here before.." she joked, referring to the night you got engaged as you screamed in anger into your pillows like you were just now.

You looked up at her and glared. "I get married in three days, and your having a laugh at my expense?"

"Three days," she exclaimed, with her eyes wide as she held up three fingers. "Like this many days??"

"Yes, I haven't even gotten the chance to pick a dress," you complained. "Not even a better husband!!"

Thalia chuckled at your annoyance. "Yeah, I knew it. Living out, fighting and hunting, is definitely what I was made for."

"Yeah, good for you," you slow clapped. You and your sister continued to catch up before Margaret, your favorite servant, walked in.

"Princess Y/N, your father is requesting your presence in the dressing chambers."

"Oh okay, I'll be going now," you nodded. "Please, come with me."

You dragged your sister with you as you made your way to the dressing chambers. Normally you liked it there, trying on new clothes, the beautifully dresses and jewelry, it was just so much fun. Now your father was calling you there, and right now you two weren't feeling very friendly with one another. He didn't like hearing his lowly servants gossiping about how the king's daughter had a boy in her room while he was away. Not like anything really happened though!!!

You opened the door and both you and Thali's eyes widen as you peered inside the room. "That's a lot of white," she commented.

"You can say that again," you agreed. There were so. Many. Wedding dresses. You and Thalia quickly picked your jaws off the floor as Margaret came back into the room to assist you with the dresses.

You tried on all types of dresses as Thalia helped you cycle through them. It was very 'Say Yes to the Dress' style. She sat in the couch in front of you as you put on every style dress under the sun. From straps to strapless, from lace to sparkles, from modest to backless, it was here. After a while, Margaret left and it was just the two of you.

"How are there still more dresses," you groaned as you sat down on the mini podium you were currently standing on. "It been well over an hour for sure."

"Can't you just pick one, there's no way you haven't liked any of the ones you've tried on," Thalia complained.

"I need to make sure its a perfect dress, you only get married once y'know."

"Well-"

"Father will only let me get married once," you corrected. "Sorry, is that more clear for you?"

You both laughed as you heard the door open behind you. Turning around, a familiar curly head popped through the door. "Someone looks nice, this for me?"

"Excuse me, but it's bad luck for the fiancé to see the wedding dress before the bride walks down the aisle," you quickly rolled your eyes as Luke walked into the room.

"Wow, didn't think you wished good luck on our marriage, I feel honored," he just chuckled at his joke while you shot a serious look to Thalia. One that read, 'I think I'm going to kill this man.'

"Your impossible."

"You're one to talk, my sweet princess," You groaned and turned around, facing the mirror, with your back to Luke. "Not a very modest dress, hm? Has father dearest seen this one?"

"Not a single one. I had a thought of finding the skimpiest dress in the room to make him angry, though I realized you might find it a little too appealing," you sighed. "I truly just can't win, can I?"

Luke chuckled as you he stood behind you in the mirror. Shortly, Margaret came into the room. "Miss Thalia, your hunters have requested your presence elsewhere."

She just nodded as she walked out. She turned back before leaving, shooting you a look saying she was sorry as you glared at her. "What? Can't be in a room alone with me?"

"I'd rather you were home, but I suppose you can stay," you looked at him through the mirror. "You're already here."

The dress was kind of heavy under you, so you shot a small gust of wind to help you float to your feet. "Always feel the need to show off?"

"If it makes you feel inferior to me? Always," you smiled. "Anyways I didn't think you'd be back till the wedding, my father was furious."

"As much as he wants to, he can't stop me from seeing my fiancé."

"Wish I could stop you, though alas I seem powerless," you shook your head and fanned your face. Your dress was backless, but you still had sleeves, and the ac seemed not to reach the room.

"Sweating there, princess?"

"Sweltering," Luke walked over to you, standing behind you as he had his hands on your waist while he examined your dress. "No funny business, Castellan."

He placed his head on your shoulder, looking into your eyes through the mirror as he unzipped the side of your dress. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He helped slide the sleeves off your sticky skin and dropped them like they were nothing. You were feeling hot as you held the dress over your chest. "C'mon princess, nothing I haven't seen before."

You turned around, dress still in your hands. "Oh fuck you."

"Fuck who," he leaned closer into your face, and you just grunted. Disregarding the dress in your hands, you grabbed Luke by the collar and smashed his face onto yours.

"You, fuck you," you breathed out before putting your lips back on his. You felt him smirking as he slightly bite into your bottom lip, you whimpered at the feeling and he slid his tongue in your mouth, tangling it with yours.

He had one hand tangled with your hair, while the other one was gripping onto the side of your hip so hard, that if the dress wasn't there then he might've drawn blood. As he slid his hands down right beneath your ass, you took the chance to jump into his arms. Moving your arms around his neck, you arched and moved even closer to Luke as you both deepened the kiss.

You were tangling your fingers through Luke's hair as he started walking forward, probably toward the couch where Thalia was just sitting to help you sort through dresses. Poor couch. Of course you knew where this was leading, but you weren't going to make this easy for Luke.

As he set you down on the couch, you planted your foot into his chest and slowly extended your leg, pushing him away. "Slow your roll Castellan."

You smiled smugly while Luke just stared at you, with a wild and hungry look in his eyes. "What?"

"Well, I have more dresses to try on of course," you laughed as you held your dress back up and gloated from your seat. "And, I don't know if I've said it but, remember, you can't see my dress before the wedding. Bad luck."

"Your going to kill me one of these days."

"And I'll wear a big smile at the funeral," he continued to look at you, in your eyes, as you both stared at each other while panting. He was a really good kisser, and while the thought made you grimace at his obvious practice, you still more.

Luke beat you to it when he bent back down, one hand gripping your jaw while the other gripped the couch behind you, and kissed you again. He slid his knee between your legs, as far as it could go, causing you to close your legs and start squirming for some friction. Luke started sliding you downward on the couch, now on top of you. He kept his knee between your legs while his other foot stayed planted on the floor, keeping him steady.

Luke started kissing down your neck, and basically tried ripping the rest of your dress off, which for someone as muscly as him, light work. As the cold air hit your chest, you felt goosebumps rise all over you.

Luke left a trail of sloppy kisses while you let out breathy moan, "Fuck, Luke," after breathy moan. "Oh my fuckk."

"Like that," he smirked against your skin, sounding as cocky as ever.

"Shut," you felt him start sucking on spots on your collarbone. "Up."

"Oh really," he started moving lower, down to your breasts. "Here I am makin you feel good," he kept planting wet kisses and sucking small spots on your skin in between his words. "And your there telling me to shut up."

You sat up, leaning on your elbows. "Do something about it."

You stared at him through your eyelashes as he ran his fingers down your chest, your breathing and heart started accelerating at his actions, "Then I will."

He slid his thumbs over your nipples as he pinched down, causing you to bite back a whine. Luke just laughed at your reaction while he sat and pulled you onto his lap. You captured his mouth back on yours and continued to share sloppy kisses, both your saliva drowning each other while you were grinding back and forth on his lap.

You felt him groan against your lips and you smirked as you felt him poke your inner thigh, "I knew you were happy to see me, but this is blasphemy."

"You think you're funny, don't you," he questioned as he started slowly sliding his hand under your dress, and against your skin. "Hm?"

"Hilarious," you breathed out. His hands slowly made it to your underwear, sliding his two fingers along your clothed cunt, causing your breathe to hitch.

"Hilarious, huh," he played with the hem of your panties. "Here's something really hilarious."

He moved your panties to the side, moving his fingers along your wet pussy, before sliding a finger in, "fuckk."

You let out quiet moans as he slid and curled his finger inside of you. He smiled at your reaction, sliding in a second finger. You shut your eyes and gripped onto Luke's shoulders as he kept doing curling and scissoring motions. Your moans slowly got louder as you laid your head down on his shoulder, grinding more on his fingers.

"Never took you for desperate, princess," he whispered in your ear. "Riding my fingers? Hm.."

"Luke," you wanted to sound assertive, but you couldn't help but whine out his name. You ignored his laughter and attacked his neck the way he did to you, unbuttoning his top buttons and leaving dark marks along his collarbone. After a few moments pass, he pulls your hair, pulling you back into a searing kiss. You felt a knot building in your stomach, knowing you were getting close, when you quickly felt a cold emptiness, and your panties shifting back in there place. "What the hell?"

Again with the whining, but to be fair, you couldn't help it. You were just soo close! "This is me, um, what were your words? 'Doing something about it?'"

You were breathing heavy as you pushed his chest back into the couch, "Really?"

"If you want me that bad, just say it," he teased. Something that always aggravated you about him was definitely his over confidence, and you knew as a fact you weren't gonna beg for him.

"I don't think I will," you chuckled as you slid off him. He looked at you confused, then raised his eyebrows as you kicked off the rest of your dress onto the floor. "You think so highly of your self, never understood why."

Before he could come back with an equally snarky comment, he watched as you laid back, slowly moving your hands inside the front of your pretty pink lace panties, ones he hadn't gotten to actually see till now, and started rubbing circles on yourself. Luke felt the saliva in his mouth run dry at the filthy sight, but the worst part? You were still moaning his name.

"Oh Lukeee." "Fuckkk." "Mmmh, I feel soo gooodd," he had enough watching you, the way you bit your lip, the way you arched your back, the way you kept one tit cupped in your free hand, and the way you did it all without breaking eye contact.

Luke creeped back over, grabbing your hand out from your panties and quickly pulling them down. You started feeling a little nervous, since now he got a full view. Yeah, you seemed confident and hot just a second ago, but you were still a virgin with no experience, LOL!

This time, he sat himself on the floor in front of you, moving your body to face him, eye level with your cunt, staring wide eyed and licking his lips. You looked as him as lick straight up your slit, you threw your head back and moaned, not even bothering to hold it back anymore.

"No idea what you do to me," he said against you, causing you to shiver as he went back to sucking on your clit. You found your fingers pulling at his curls, moving him in closer, as you tightened your legs around his head.

"Just like that, fuck," you'd been swearing like a sailor today, but that wasn't your problem. Luke continued eating you like he was a man starved, until he again added his two fingers, causing you to press yourself even closer to his face. The poor boy probably couldn't breathe, but he was completely fine to be swallowed by you. Minutes keep passing as you feel the same knot from earlier keep building in your stomach. "Please don't stop again, I'm so close."

Just as you finished your sentence, Luke curled his fingers for the last time as you felt yourself come undone on him, smearing his face with, well, you!!

You let out a loud sigh as you laid back on the couch, falling to your side as you caught your breathe. Luke sat on the floor licking his lips and wiping his jaw. He watched as you stretched out on the couch, butt naked while your inner thighs dripped.

"Here, lemme just.." he trailed off as he wiped you down with your discarded wedding dress.

You chuckled, "it's ruined now. What if I liked that one?"

"No you didn't, wasn't you."

You sat back up, hands covering your chest. "You think so? Then what is me?"

Luke passed you your underwear as he stood up, looking through the racks of dresses. After a few minutes, he pulled one out. "Isn't this the designer you like?"

"Hm, yeah, Vivienne Westwood, I love her clothes," you smiled, grabbed the dress from the floor and walking over. "I got to see one of her shows before she died, it was beautiful."

"Whats with the..," Luke gestured over to you and the way you wrapped the dress around your upper half.

"Its cold, you keep catching me mostly naked these days you know."

"Yeah yeah," he chuckled. "Here, this one."

You grabbed the dress, "Camille, this one's my favorite."

"I know you better than you think I do," he smiled as he guided you back to the podium in front of the mirrors. Luke slid up the dress, getting whatever buttons and zippers resided in the back. He stood aside, letting you stand alone in the mirror. You softly smiled as you slowly spun, getting every angle of the dress.

"It's beautiful, gods I hate it when your right."

"Oh I'm sure," you laughed as you heard the door open behind you, Thalia was back. "Why hello Ms. Thalia."

"Luke," she greeted. "Wow, Y/N that ones beautiful."

"I know, that's what I said," you smiled at the compliment, "this is going to be my dress."

"Bad luck for him to see the dress you know."

"Why Thalia, for I'm the one who picked the dress," he taunted.

"Not too much now, Castellan."

Thalia just watched as the two of you went back and forth, definitely remembering to ask you later what had happened while she was gone.

[jellyfishrnice]

Just imagine being Sevikas unofficial girlfriend/lover/situationship/ nothing serioussss 😍😍😍

(Omg sevika stop looking at me like that 😩😩😩 )

Sure, you two weren't techinacly official (sevika saying you two were "just friends"), but you never really strayed from her tight hold on you, but tonight was different.

After a rather difficult argument with Sevika over her going to a brothel house for the 2nd time this month, you decided to blow off some steam at a trashy club somewhere deep in the undercity.

You were tipsy off of the many drinks you had and the music playing had you swaying to the beat in the sea of people, you hadn't even noticed but Sevika (being toxic as ever) followed you and was watching you from across the floor, sipping on some hard liquor and trying not to rip the eyes out the skull of the random person grinding on your ass.

But of course, you just had to provoke her as much as possible. The sight of you reciprocating this assholes advances by turning around to face her, grabbing her by the neck and then kissing her-

Sevika was out of her seat before she even registered what was happening. And the next thing she remembers is her fists being bloody and your screams trying to beg her to get off the other woman.

You succeed somehow and drag her off the poor girl and gripping her by the wrist out the back door before you both God in trouble, but it probably wouldn't matter anyway since Sevika gets away with everything.

Including fucking you over! (In both ways)

"God, can't you just leave me alone?!" You shouted while trying to shove Sevika but she only smirked and looked at the ground with her hands on her hips.

"Y'know if you wanted to be treated like someone random slut you could have just told me-"

"You already treat me like one anyway, so what does it matter!?" You screamed at her, the clubs music still blasting inside, you so wish you were back in there with that gorgeous woman. Too bad Sevika always has to ruin your fun.

"Like hell I do, I treat you better than anyone else could in this damn city," Sevika scoffed at your comment, don't you know how good you have it with her?

"Oh my- so you're aloud to fuck anyone in the city, but the second I start to even- dance with someone you get to storm over and-" your rant was interrupted by Sevikas lips on yours.

You only tried to push back for a second but the oh so familiar scent of her filled your nose and her dark lips tasted of whiskey and smoke. Her hands found your wrists and pinned them on both sides of your head, pushing you onto the brick wall of the club alleyway.

You heard a small groan from her before her pulling back suddenly, still close enough for you see her pretty gray eyes glazed over with lust and her soft pretty lips slightly ajar.

"missed you sweetheart," she mumbled.

You let out a shaky sigh and leaned forward again, shoving your tongue into her mouth.

She let your wrists go for a moment only to grab your by the thighs to pick you up, your legs wrapping around her muscular waist on instinct. Your hands found their way into her dark hair, gripping it tightly and invoking a beautiful groan from her.

It felt so nice and familiar to have her so close again, comforting and reliable.

And the next morning you woke up in her bed, naked, and in the same place you always find yourself; in Sevikas bed with her arms wrapped around your waist and her soft chest pressed against your back; a stark contracts to her rough hands and scared forearms. You sighed and tried to move away from her, trying to get up to leave, but she only mumbled something you couldn't hear and pulled you back into her arms. You sighed and let her hug you, dreading when she would let you go.

Sometimes, it really felt like she owned you, heart and body.

-

Not proofread but she's so toxic omggg 😫

[chrissv4mp]

get him back! 💘

warnings: vulgar language, smut (p in v, missionary, unprotected sex, cunnilingus), jealous!chris, use of 'y/n', etc.

summary: in which chris was just a summer fling that you couldn't get enough of, and neither could he.

pairing: fem!reader × christopher sturniolo

a/n: literally jumped at the fact that i got to participate in @annamcdonalds67 's writing challenge! first ever comp i've been in🫶🏼 also there's a huge timeskip in this, sooo...

_____________

SUMMER 2023 , day 30

"chris, you can't burp in public places. seriously." you sighed, continuing to walk alongside the boy in the mall.

"why not? it's not hurting anyone," he grumbled, swaying the bag in his freehand back and forth.

"because that's not polite, chris." you swore you were talking to a child sometimes.

chris rolled his eyes, who were you to tell him it wasn't polite?

"fuck, you argue with me about everything." you muttered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

chris hadn't heard, and even if he had, he wouldn't answer. his full attention was on some girl talking to her friends. his wandering eyes had always failed him.

her hair was dark, long, and her lips were so full he wished he could--

"chris," your voice pulled him out of his trance, his head quickly snapping toward you.

"yeah?" he smiled softly.

"i'm gonna go to the bathroom, then we can leave." chris nodded, his mind already going back to the girl from earlier.

as soon as you disappeared behind the doors, chris was making his way to the brunette and her friends.

"hey," chris smiled, eyes trained on the brunette.

"hi?" she smiled awkwardly, nudging her friends and making them leave.

"sorry, didn't wanna make your friends leave just now, i just saw you from across the store and... you're really pretty." he said, his smile fading to a smirk.

the girl laughed, "thank you, but seriously? not even gonna ask my name?"

"shit, sorry! what was your name?" he chuckled, eyes going down to her lips.

"chloe," she replied, crossing her arms over each other.

chris nodded, "pretty name for a pretty girl. i'm chris, nice to meet you."

"nice to meet you, as well. uh, sorry, weird question," chris hummed, urging her to continue.

"how tall are you?" chloe smiled sweetly, eyeing chris up and down.

"six-foot-two," chris lied, biting the inside of his cheek.

your hand on his shoulder was what caught his attention, "nice try, chris."

he turned around, his cheeks flushing of embarrassment as he stared down at you, "hey, y/n."

ignoring him, you looked over at chloe, giving her an awkward smile before pushing past chris.

"i'm sorry about him. and i assure you that he's not six-foot-two." you sighed, flashing her another quick smile before dragging chris out of the mall.

chris stayed silent as you scolded him in the car, was he serious?

"you are so embarrassing chris, and, god, you need to get yourself in check. flirting with another girl while dating me? seriously?" you scoffed, driving out of the parking lot.

you should've left him a long time ago, honestly, but he was so much fun and he had such weird friends.

and plus, he would take out you and your friends to parties every other night. they were always a good time, it felt as if they never ended.

"i'm sorry, ma," he muttered, placing his hand on your thigh and gently squeezing it.

"i can make it up to you tonight. me, nate, and a couple other friends are going out to a club," chris said quietly, a smile growing on his face.

you stayed silent. even if the invitation did sound nice, you were still pissed at chris.

"c'mon, don't be like that, ma. i know you want to." he muttered, his thumb running over your thigh softly.

fuck it, it was just one night without talking about your feelings. plus, you needed something fun to do, "fine."

chris smiled brightly, "y'know i learned some new dance moves."

rolling your eyes playfully, you nudged the boy, "shut up, chris."

SUMMER 2023 , day 42

"i mean, maybe if you stopped being such a bitch all the time more people would approach you?"

that's what chris had said just a few hours ago when you were at the party, dancing together.

now chris was trying to get you to talk to him as you sat at the edge of his bed, going through your instagram feed.

"i didn't mean it, baby, you know i didn't. please just talk to me, c'mon," he whined, his hand rubbing your shoulder gently.

you just sighed, tucking your phone in your pocket before looking away from him, "you can't just say shit like that, chris."

he nodded as his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him, "i know, i just wasn't thinking, i'm sorry."

that's what he always said, and you always believed him. always.

"hey, i'll be right back, okay?" he said softly, kissing your cheek.

you nodded, watching as chris left his room and shut the door, leaving you alone.

chris was back in a matter of 15 minutes, barging into his room and making you jump from the sudden noise.

you were sat against the headboard, scrolling through tiktok as chris climbed onto the bed next to you.

"ma," he smiled, showering your entire face in kisses as he moved your phone to the side.

you laughed at his clinginess, feeling his hands go up to cup your face softly, "hi, baby."

"i have a surprise." he said, the smile on his face growing as he grabbed his phone.

he held the phone in front of your face, and on the screen were 2 tickets to paris, france, the date on the ticket showing that the plane was leaving in just 4 days.

your mouth fell agape as you turned your head to look at chris, before he could even say anything, you jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

after a few minutes of silence in his embrace, you finally spoke, "i love you, chris."

the boy smiled, kissing your neck affectionately, "love you, too, y/n."

SPRING BREAK 2024 , night 3

your eyes were glued to your phone, attention on chris's new instagram story.

it was a picture of him, his tongue stuck out as the words "Happy Easter !" were next to him.

your lips curled into a small smile, but then it faded as the memory of your breakup crashed into your mind.

maybe he was an asshole at sometimes, but you really missed him. he was so sweet and such a gentleman at times.

every moment with him was never boring, he was funny, kind, hot, everything a girl would want in a guy.

you shut off your phone as another memory came into your mind, when chris had hit on your friend right in front of you.

and the worst part wasn't even that it was right in front of you; the worst part was that he'd done it multiple times.

"fucking asshole." you muttered, eyes going to the TV that was currently playing Waves.

your attention couldn't stay on the movie, though. it wasn't long until your eyes wandered below the TV to the entertainment center.

there was a photo of you and chris in paris, on the eiffel tower.

he was so sweet for taking you on that trip, but then again, he was a dick for the reason he bought the tickets.

god, you couldn't make up your mind.

do i love him? do i hate him? i guess it's up and down.

you couldn't even decide anymore. all you knew was that you wanted to get him back.

you wanted to make him jealous, like he always made you. and, fuck, you wanted to make him feel bad. really bad.

he would always blame you for shit you couldn't control.

and then at other times you wanted to get him back.

you wanted him again, missed him, even.

you felt sad every time you saw him having fun with other girls, felt like you were never good enough for him.

you just wanted him to reassure you that you were better than all those girls, that you were his girl.

sometimes you even found yourself on your bedroom floor, texting him little notes about how much you missed the way kisses and the way he grabbed your--

the way he made you laugh.

you'd pour your heart our every time, and the "little notes" would always end up as huge paragraphs.

you still remember the time you had almost hit send. during your relationship another girl had texted you that chris was cheating on you with her.

and of course, it had to have been one of your ex-friends.

she had explained that she went through his phone and saw your text messages with chris. he said you were the only girl.

but that just wasn't the truth. another one of his lies.

another memory was when you had actually sent him a paragraph. a paragraph about how bad he had hurt you.

chris, never being one to admit to something like that, said you were trippin'.

you remember how angry you were, how much you had fucking hated his guts. but then you remembered what you had told your friends that same day.

"maybe i could fix him."

SPRING BREAK , day 7

matt was hosting a party at him and his brothers' shared house, and he had invited you.

and, of course, you accepted the invitation. he was just chris's brother, and you would just avoid the younger triplet if he tried to come to you.

"y/n, oh my god, we missed you!" nick greeted, pulling you into a hug as you stepped into the house.

"i missed you, too, nick." you smiled, hugging him back before going off to find some other friends.

why couldn't chris be like his brothers? they were so sweet.

maybe you should've went for matt last summer.

a few hours into the party and a guy was all over you, grabbing at your waist and pulling you against his front.

you caught sight of chris as you danced against the guy. he was staring daggers at the man, his grip on his pepsi can tight enough to break it into pieces.

you smirked at the thought of making him jealous. but, fuck, you wanted to make him more than jealous.

maybe after the party you would key his car. that'd get him going.

or maybe you'd make him lunch tomorrow, make him happy.

you hadn't even met his mom during your relationship. what if you got in touch with her just to tell her her son sucks?

whatever, it didn't matter right now. all that mattered was that chris was jealous and was ready to attack the guy.

"let's go upstairs, yeah?" the guy whispered into your ear, hand going up to squeeze your boob.

just as he did, chris was out of his seat, pushing way past other people and stopping just in front of you.

you hadn't even had time to process the whole interaction between chris and the unknown guy before chris was dragging you down the hall to his room.

"chris, what the fuck are you--" your sentence was cut short as he pushed you against his locked door, his lips crashing onto yours hungrily.

your eyes widened in shock, but as soon as chris's hand rested on your waist, you relaxed, kissing him back just as rough.

his grip on your waist was tight, sure to leave marks in the shape of his hands.

good, that would remind any other guy who touched you that you belonged to chris. only chris.

his lips left your, trailing kisses down your jawline to your neck, sucking harshly on your tender skin just before his tongue lay flat on the same spot to soothe the ache.

"fuck." you whined, hands tangling in chris's hair.

chris didn't stay at your neck for long, pulling away entirely from your body to pull your shirt over you head and undo your bra.

his lips were quick to find your nipple, swirling around the bud slowly as his hand played with your other boob.

his eyes never left yours as he left marks on your chest, making sure they wouldn't fade in just a matter of hours.

"stupid fucking guy thinks he can touch on you like that," chris muttered as he grabbed your waist tightly again, roughly leading you to sit on his bed.

he got on his knees in front of you before pulling at the hem of your jeans.

you quickly got the hint and slipped them off, kicking them off your ankles before chris threw them somewhere around the floor.

"still such a good girl for me, yeah?" he said, amusement in his tone as he grabbed your thighs and pulled them open.

you nodded eagerly, "i'm your good girl, chris."

chris smiled, before hooking his finger in your panties and pulling them off of you roughly.

you swore you heard him rip the fabric, but that didn't matter, all that mattered right now was the ache between your thighs.

"still such a pretty girl." chris mused before running his tongue through your folds.

you gasped at the warmth of his tongue, attempting to squeeze your legs shut.

chris kept them open, his grip on your thighs tightening as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, eliciting a loud moan out of you.

"chris, fuck." you moaned, hands going back into the boys hair and tuggling lightly.

his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly as he slipped his index finger into your wetness.

your grip in his hair tightened as your moans got louder, whining his name as his finger hit that sweet spot deep inside of you.

"oh my god, chris.." you groaned, eyes rolling back as they fluttered shut.

he added a second finger to your entrance, finding it harder to thrust both fingers into you.

"so tight." he groaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his voice making you let out a throaty moan.

"chris, chris, fuck, i'm gonna-" you cut yourself off with a moan as chris curled his fingers.

you came on his tongue and fingers, your chest heaving as you let go of his hair.

chris lapped at your wetness, cum coating his chin as he stood up in front of you.

he wasted no time in taking his shirt off, unbuckling his belt and kicking his jeans off his ankles, quickly pulling his boxers down before throwing them on the floor.

"you make me crazy, y'know that, ma?" he growled lowly, pushing you softly to lay on your back.

chris didn't even let you reply before he aligned his cock with your entrance and thrusted himself inside of you.

hiding his face in your neck, he began to roll his hips, groaning as he felt your walls clench around him tightly.

"fuck." he whined at the feeling of your nails digging into his back, sure to draw blood.

it wasn't long until you had adjusted to his size and chris had began to thrust into you faster, his tip hitting your cervix just right every time.

your moans echoed off the walls, and suddenly you were glad that the music outside of the door was loud.

the bed creaked as the headboard hit the wall, evidence of how hard chris was rocking against your body.

"chris, fuck, you're so big." you whimpered, gasping as you felt his hand on your lower belly.

he pushed down slightly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt a small bulge.

it didn't take long for the both of you to reach the edge, gasps and moans being the only thing heard in the room.

chris came seconds before you, filling you up just before you came on his cock, making him groan loudly.

"fuck, ma." he sighed, giving you a few seconds before he pulled out of you and plopped by your side on the bed.

you rolled on your side to face him, smiling slightly at the knowledge that he had already been staring at you.

he smiled back at you, his eyes struggling to stay open.

he laughed, "still making you feel bad?"

even if he was tired, he would never pass up the chance to make a snarky comment.

"shut up, you idiot." you laughed, punching him playfully.

. . .

tags: @mattsneezing @55sturn @niicksposts @mayhem-72 @chrissturnswife @sturn-wrld @freshloveee @h3arts4harry @films4sturni @lanixsturniolo @voidghsts @thebottledwatersupplier @strniohoeee @strnilolo @heartsforchrisandmatt @sturn3g1rl @mstxrniolo @iluvmattyb @ryli3sworld @stingerayyy2

n

[kerrslvr]

mile high club / teagan micah

in which, you and teagan join the mile high club.

warnings; fingering (r receiving), nipple stimulation, dom!teagan, sub!reader, dirty talk, strap-ons (fucking and sucking), breeding kink, praise kink, voyuerism?? i guess??

a short little smut completely inspired by teagan's insta story of her on the flight back to aus which i posted here. i have also clearly never been in a first class airplane pod, so forgive me for giving it too much space x

**** "babe. are you asleep?"

your eyes peeled open to teagan's fingers prodding at your bicep, and you shifted from a position that made your neck stiff and your legs cramp.

"i was," you grumbled, squinting your eyes closed to adjust to the light within the plane, "what's up?"

teagan's fingers danced across your arm, and even though you were wearing one of her thick, fleeced hoodies, you could feel the electricity bouncing from her fingertips.

"hm, nothing," she hummed, "just a bit bored to be honest."

"we've been on this plane two hours, teags," you shifted so that your legs were draped over hers and immediately her hand gripped your thigh. you pulled her hood down and played with the strands of her hair that fell loosely behind her ears, "why don't you try and sleep? or maybe we could watch a movie...? i bought my headphone splitter so we can watch notting hill in peace."

"i don't wanna watch notting hill, babe."

her hand moved up your leg an inch or so, and you sensed you knew what she was getting at but you were in a first class pod on a busy airplane with alanna and mary in the pods surrounding you. there was no way in hell she wanted to do that, was there?

"oh, uh, o-okay," you shifted and reached for your ipad on the table across from you both, "i have, uh, we could watch jumanji, or, uh, i downloaded the new-"

teagan's hand rose higher on your thigh until it was sitting in the crease and you lost your train of thought when her thumb brushed against your clothed clit.

"teagan."

"y.n," she taunted back, "just for five minutes."

"no, teagan, it's too risky."

"because you're going to be too loud? i have ways to shut you up, y'know."

you rolled your eyes and leaned into teagan's touch. it would be nice to just have ten minutes to yourselves, you'd both been so busy with work you were exhausted, and hadn't had sex for a reasonable amount of time.

your lips found hers and her touch was soft, even when her fingers slid under the band of your leggings and her finger pressed against your clit. you pulled the cap from her head and it fell to the floor between her legs, and you pulled her closer as you simultaneously scooched your body closer to hers so it was easier for the both of you.

she pulled your lip between her teeth and now you'd given her the green light there really wasn't much time to waste. you both expected they'd be coming round with refreshments, or possibly even breakfast soon.

"gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me, darling?"

you nodded against her lips, and when her fingers circled your hole and curled inside you as her thumb circled your clit. your hand stayed wrapped around her neck throughout the entirety of the exchange, lips brushing against hers every so often.

"o...oh, my... t-teagan," you breathed, trying desperately not to make a sound.

"sssh, babe, i know," she kissed your jaw, "feels good, doesn't it? you're so wet and warm."

a moan escaped your lips at teagan's comment, and quickly her free hand moved to your mouth, where she stuck two fingers inside and immediately you let your tongue swirl around her fingertips.

the angle was awkward, yet somehow she managed to hit every spot. your pussy was soaked, and she could already feel your wetness dripping down her knuckles and onto her wrist. she added a third finger and your eyes locked as she telepathically swore you to silence.

she loved the look in your eyes, both of partial fear and desperation. how you looked like a deer in the headlights but still craved her enough to continue.

you shifted in your seat so you were closer to being laid down than you were sat up, and allowed your hands to push up her hoodie just enough. she removed her hand from your mouth and helped, so it was now sitting across her shoulders, where you were greeted by her sports bra.

"no," she whispered sternly, "y/n, don't you dare. you know that makes me - oh."

one of your lips attached around one of her nipples and you suckled on it slowly, and immediately she became like putty in your hands. her fingers worked faster, desperately wishing she could bring you to the edge faster so you wouldn't be sucking on her nipples. it's not that she didn't like it - if anything, she loved it - but it drove her crazy and she sometimes found herself getting out of control at the feeling of your lips all over her chest.

your breathing sped up and your legs spread wider, back arching delicately as you chased your orgasm as quietly as you could. teagan's fingers continued to curl inside of you, her thumb pressing down harder as she circled your clit to amount more pressure, and it quickly got to the point where the pressure got too heavy.

your head spun and your limbs shook as your orgasm washed over you, unable to control the feeling amounting inside of your body. your teeth dug into teagan's nipple and she had to bite down on her bottom lip so she didn't elicit any form of unwanted attention from passengers or staff.

once your orgasm subsided and your head felt floaty, she pushed your head away from her chest and looked at you with an unimpressed look on her face.

"that wasn't very smart, was it, babe, hm?" she pulled her fingers from your lap and you admired your own liquid trickling down her wrist, "because i was just going to finger you every so often during the flight until we got to sydney, but now? i don't know if i can do that," her tongue darted out to lick at the juice now rolling down her forearm, "because you decided to be a whore and take it to the next step by sucking my tits, didn't you? and you know how that makes me feel, darling."

"i-i'm sorry, teagan," you whispered, but she was already pulling the hoodie from your body and pushing down your leggings, "i just thought it would keep me quiet."

she tugged at the front of your bralette and watched as your boobs spilled out. without hesitation, the fingers that were inside of you a mere two minutes prior were now stuffed into your mouth, her lips wrapped around your nipples and her free hand began to rub harsh circles around your clit.

"n-no, t-teagan, you know what happens when you-"

"-not my problem."

she suckled on your nipples as if she were tasting them for the first time, licking her lips and allowing herself to get messy. you choked on her fingers as she pushed them further down your throat, not allowing you the space to breathe, and her fingers continued to rub harshly on your clit.

again, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold off your orgasm, and if teagan was good at one thing, it was bringing on an orgasm quickly. her tongue circled between each nipple and it sent your mind reeling, although you both knew you wanted her to eat you out, but it wasn't happening.

you clenched your eyes shut, once again gagging on her fingers as you thought back on memories of the feeling of her tongue on your clit, and soon you found yourself on the brink of an orgasm. you grabbed at the wrist that was resting on your chin, wanting to let her know your orgasm was approaching, but she knew your body too well. your legs began to shake and your stomach muscles started to tense, and she admired you as your entire body was rocked by your second orgasm in under five minutes.

your juices trickled around her wrist again and she took her sweet time this time around licking her hand clean while you tried to catch your breath with desperation.

"don't tell me you're tired," she hummed, "you haven't even repaid me with a thank you yet."

you whimpered, but moved your body as exhausted as it was, pushing your hoodie back down your body to cover your modesty just in case anybody were to walk past. as you came to, teagan had undone the drawstring of her bottoms and pushed them down her legs, and your eyes widened at the sight before you.

"well...?" she gestured, "are you just going to sit there? or do i have to force a thank you out of you as well?"

"n-no," you croaked, shifting your position. teagan reached past your body and locked the entrance to your pod, although it was probably clear as a bell to the staff and fellow passengers what was going on by now, not to mention that if anybody walked past in a certain lighting, they would undoubtedly see the outline of your backside sticking out in their direction as you sucked her off.

she bunched up your hair as you slid your mouth down her cock, and she shivered at the feeling. your throat had already been coaxed open by her fingers, and so, much to teagan's satisfaction, you had no trouble in accommodating the size of her strap.

you looked over at her, and she was sitting there with her hands on her nipples looking down at you through hooded eyes, and you craved her now more than ever. you would much rather have been eating her out in that moment, however the flight still had twenty hours of airtime, and you knew you'd get your chance later.

one of your hands moved to rest on her knee and one of your hands found her nipple, where you took over touching it, conveniently freeing up a hand of hers.

"fu-uck, baby, that's it. right fuckin' there," she bucked her hips up and you coughed and spluttered around her dick, "throat is almost as good as your pussy."

she reached across your body and circled your hole with her fingers, and when you flinched she smirked. "you want me to fuck you, don't you babe, hm?"

you nodded, still with her dick in your mouth.

"wanna know a secret?"

again, you nodded.

"i'm only gonna let you cum again if you get on top," she pushed the hair from your face, "you think you can do that for me, hm?"

you nodded one final time and she stroked your hair, tapping your cheek and telling you to remove your mouth from her cock. you did as she instructed, and soon enough you were straddling her cock ready to be filled.

she flung your hoodie off of your body and it landed in your seat, your leggings pushed around your ankles. the cabin must've stunk of sex by now, but surely you weren't the only animals on the plane. it must've been a regular occurrence.

as you hovered over her cock, you faced each other and she brought your lips to hers as you slowly sunk down. your moans were muffled by the feeling of her lips on yours and thankfully nobody could hear.

you rocked your hips back and forth in an attempt to adjust to her size but she kissed along your jawline. "we haven't got a lot of time, baby, they'll be bringing out some food soon."

you nodded, and carefully raised and lowered your hips in a slow but stable rhythm. you knew, realistically that this wasn't going to make you cum, and teagan knew that too, but you loved to have at least a little bit of fun, even if you were pressed for time.

"want you to fuck me, teagan."

"like this? baby, you know that's not possible," she pressed a searing hot bite to the side of your boob, "unless, of course, you want everyone on this cabin knowing exactly how much of a slut you are for my dick. it's your choice, really."

you pouted when she swatted your hand away from your clit, realistically leaving you only one option.

"yes, teagan, like this," you nuzzled into her neck and she groaned when you bit down into it, sucking at the skin, "i want you to make me cum again."

she smirked, having you exactly where she wanted you. her hands hooked under your bum and she slowly started to raise her hips to meet your bounce, which made you gasp.

"don't tell me you've lost your manners."

"please, teagan."

"please, what?"

you rolled your eyes and she pinched your bum. "you know what."

she smirked again, sucking a nipple into her mouth and you fought off an annoyed huff. "i'm not going to do it until you tell me what you want me to do, darling."

"i want you to fuck me, teagan, right here, right now," your voice was low, but loud enough for everyone to hear all at the same time, "i want you to make me cum again. please."

with that, she was satisfied, and took no time doing exactly that. your arms braced around her head and your fingers interlocked at the back of her head, meaning your chest was pressed right up against her face which made you both even more desperate than before.

"o-oh... oh fu-uck, t-teagan," you tried to be quiet, but it was defenseless, your voice continuously breaking and desperately needing some form of relief, "your dick is so... oh, fuck."

she smirked against your skin and her teeth sunk into the inside of your boob as you fought off a continuous string of moans. your skin was slapping together and it was undoubtedly all anybody throughout the entire plane could hear, but you'd cross that bridge when you came to it.

your pussy clenched around her dick and she knew you wouldn't last much longer. "can't believe you want me to fill you up in public," she teased, knowing it would get you there quicker, "on a plane full of people, including my friends, you want me to fill you up with my cum, don't you?"

"y-yes," you whimpered, "t-teagan, please i'm desperate."

one of her hands sunk down between you and she circled your clit, and immediately you began to clench uncontrollably.

"i know you do, darling, you're such a good little girl, aren't you? c'mon, baby, cum for me and i'll fill you up."

your eyes clenched shut and you focused on the feeling of being full and having teagan's fingers on your clit, and within a matter of minutes you were falling apart on top of her. teagan's hand came over your mouth to cover the unholy moan that left it, and she kept her promise and filled you up almost straight away, milking her dick of every last drop as she groaned.

your body fell limp on top of her, and you dreaded the walk of shame to the bathroom in order to clean yourself up, and you toyed with the idea of just throwing a blanket over you and laying there until you fell asleep, but you didn't want to give the flight attendant a heart attack.

"do we have to go and do the walk of shame through the cabin?" you questioned softly after a few minutes, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"you're the one full of cum, darling. not me."

"i know, but you have to come with me, by default," you kissed her lips softly, "i'll make sure it's worth your while."

she smirked and raised an eyebrow, which made you smile immediately. "i'll come with you to the bathroom, and then once we've eaten and had an hours sleep, you can eat me out all you want, darling. that's a promise."

"excellent," you hummed, "then the rest of the cabin'll really hate us."

[aspirationalpeony]

Lucky Me

Summary: You and Mel do a little experimenting after she shares a disappointing truth about her past relationships. Content Warnings: Lots of smut. :) This fic is loosely set in the same world as "Finding Beauty," but can be enjoyed independently. AO3 Link

"He wasn't good at it," Melissa says. "Joe. Makin' me come." She blushes.

It's so not her--tough, capable Melissa, fearless and demanding. You touch her cheek, brush a strand of red hair back behind her ear. She hasn't had a touch-up in a while, and there's a streak of gray growing in at her temple. You love that she can be vulnerable with you, admitting these little truths about herself, in words, in body.

"Really?" you say. You have a well, duh moment in your own head: the last time you saw Joe, he interrupted you constantly, derailing your thoughts to tell his own stories, never letting you get to the punchline of a joke. He just feels like a bad lover, inattentive and untrustworthy. Plus, you know the stuff he said to Melissa about her body.

"Yeah." She plays with the band of her smart watch, then leans forward off the couch toward the coffee table, picking up her wine glass. (It's a weeknight, so the liquid inside is grapefruit-flavored sparkling water.) "And 'specially later on, I couldn't get wet, he'd get so frustrated."

"Even though you were telling him what to do?"

Putting her glass back down, she cuts a look at you for the assumption, but it breaks out into a smile, a little sheepish. Your heart does a flip-flop at the sight. "Well, yeah."

Your fingertip traces the shell of her ear. She shivers. You can't believe Joe would get frustrated, impatient, bored of trying to give this woman pleasure. Every inch of her has some private sensitivity: the lobes of her ears, the small of her back, behind her knees, below her navel. Getting to learn these secrets has been the most incredible privilege. And it's been fun.

It's taken her a while to learn to let you, rather than tell you; to give you a chance to explore. She's so used to controlling every moment, organizing her own pleasure and yours. You love when Melissa is the boss, but you also love when she gives up the authority; when she melts into the feeling and lets you be in charge.

"What about Gary?" you ask.

She snorts. "Gary who?" Her mouth twists and she shakes her head, at the question, at herself. "I mean, sometimes I'd take his mustache for a ride, but that's about it. He didn't have, y'know. It." Her eyes flick up to yours again. You haven't missed the way they've been down this whole time, unable to hold your gaze; how her chin is tucked toward her chest, her shoulders up. "It doesn't... Bother you? Talkin' about them?"

You check in with yourself, but end up shrugging. "Not really." You've spent time with Melissa and Joe together, and there's no heat between them, just the friendly chemistry of two people who've known each other half their lives. Gary you did see once, and he looked kind of like an uncooked ham. What is there to be jealous of?

You study her face. She's still pink and a little twitchy. "Does it bother you? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You drop your hand to her nape, rubbing your thumb comfortingly along the column of her neck. She sways into you with a sigh.

"I wanna," she says. "Talk about it. I feel like I..." Her lips pinch. "Owe ya."

"No," you say, straightening up. The plastic of the couch creaks with your movement. "Melissa, you don't owe me anything. I want to talk about it if you do, but--"

"Nah, that's--" she shakes her head. "It's not what I meant. I mean, I... It's like, it's a part of... Me. Y'know." She pushes her hair back from her face. "And 'cause I love you, and--" she laughs a little--"cause you're stuck with me, I..."

Your always-active heart gives a tremor, hearing the cautious vulnerability of her voice. You slide your arm around her and pull her in.

"It ain't that big a deal," she says, muffled, lying, against your shoulder.

Even if she can't admit it--your tough-girl sweetheart, not wanting to let her soft heart show--you can. "It is to me," you say, and squeeze her.

You loosen your grip, and she tucks herself against your side. It always surprises you how small she really is. Every day she's like a cat that's making itself big, back up, fur on end, daring anyone to come at her; here she gets to shrink back down, turn back into herself, become your kitten.

"I don't get it," you say after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "It's fun making you come. I love it."

"Lucky me," Mel says, very smugly.

"I sometimes think about--" you stop. This really isn't the moment for your fantasies: yeah, you guys were talking about sex, but not in the dirty sense; it was Melissa sharing something important, something emotional, and...

"Yeah?" she says. Her voice has two registers when she's turned on: airy, almost girlish, usually when you've surprised her, and throaty, a rasp. Now it's that fainter, breathless one. The sound of it sends a tickling frisson down your spine.

"Um," you say, and it's your turn to blush. "I think about... A lot of things."

"I'm waitin'."

You huff an embarrassed laugh. It's one thing to fantasize, another thing to tell the object of your fantasy all about it. "Sometimes I think about," you say, and clear your throat, "how sensitive you are. And I want to know how many times I can make you come."

You can feel the way her breathing speeds up, her body against your side, but she doesn't speak.

"We usually stop at two," you say, "but I think you can take more. I think you can take a lot more. And--sometimes, I think about how little it takes, like, when you're right there. Like I can just breathe on your clit and you'll come. I think about getting you there and telling you 'no.'"

Her breath catches.

"I bet you'd go crazy." You're smiling a little. You touch your mouth, tapping your lower lip, thinking of it. "You'd cuss me out, you'd yank my hair. You'd probably try to finish yourself off. I might have to tie you up to stop you."

"Oh," she says.

You risk a glance at her face. She's looking up at you from where she's leaning against your side, her green eyes glassy, her cheeks pink, her lips parted.

"You like that, baby?" You slide your hand down her back and feel the muscles shift as she moves, pushing herself up, then throwing a leg over you, settling onto your lap.

Having her like this is perfect. She used to hold herself up on her knees, not letting you take her weight, until you got her to understand that you loved the pressure of her body against yours, that there was no such thing as too much of her.

She dips her head and kisses you. It's not a starter kiss, warming you up; she kisses you like you're inside her now, deep and filthy, putting her tongue in your mouth with no foreplay. You groan as her hand cups your neck, feeling the prickle of her manicured nails against your skin.

"You think about me like that a lot?" she asks you when she's letting you catch your breath. The words are low, your faces close, like it's a secret someone could overhear.

"Yeah," you admit. Your hands slide over her hips to grip her ass. She gives an encouraging little motion when you squeeze. "I love thinking about what I could do to you..." Her breath hitches again. "What you'd enjoy."

"You get off on it?"

"Yeah, I do," you say. "I get off on getting you off."

Her eyelashes flutter. She makes a noise like a whimper. You have a flash of inspiration, and before you can second-guess yourself, you take her hand from your neck, the other from your shoulder, and pull them behind her back.

She gasps. It's an arrow of electricity right to your clit. Her eyes open wide, searching for yours, as you gather her wrists into one hand. It's not a very strong grip--she could yank away from you easily--but it pulls her shoulders back and leaves her chest thrust forward.

"Is this okay?"

She nods.

"You have to tell me."

"It's okay," she says. Her voice has dropped into that second register of pure arousal, throaty and low. "It's... It's good."

"Did Joe ever do this to you?" You don't know what makes you bring him up. Not jealousy, but... Maybe curiosity. Maybe wondering if he ever took the time to catalogue Melissa's reactions, to think through what would really turn her on, if he ever gave that much of a shit.

She chuckles breathlessly. "Like to see him try," she mutters. Her blush is traveling down her throat and blotching her chest.

You follow its path to the three buttons at the front of her blouse. You watch her chest start to heave as you work them open with your free hand. They expose the center gore of her bra and a hint of the silky curve of its cups.

You palm one breast roughly, squeezing. She groans. You can just feel her hardening nipple through the layers of fabric separating you. You thumb it, pinch hard, to make sure she can feel it, turning her next moan into a whine.

Her hips rock into your lap, trying to get friction. You lean back to look at her: disheveled, red, her hair spilling everywhere, her lip gloss blurry from kissing.

"You're so fucking sexy," you tell her, voice low, making her moan again.

You'd love to finger her, but there's no lube, and she's in leggings pulled up high over her hips, with not a lot of room between the two of you to get inside them. You slide your hand between her legs and over her covered sex.

She pushes down into your palm, hard, as you nose the tender inner curve of one breast, tracing your lips against the edge of her bra. Pressing through her leggings, you can feel the plump shape of her cunt. You trace those folds down, then up, over her clit.

"Oh, fuck," she breathes as you start rubbing. "Oh, fuck..." She shifts restlessly; you think she might pull her wrists away, but instead she arches toward you, drops her head back, inviting a bite to her throat, which you give. You suck soft skin into your mouth, scrape of your teeth, nibble, move down, find another spot, repeat. You can't leave marks, but there are blotches of satisfying pink where you've touched her.

"You getting close?" You work your thumb against her clit.

"Uh huh," she says, weak and needy. She picks her head up again and there's a lost, fogged look of pleasure on her face as she meets your eyes.

You hold her gaze. "Tell me when you're there," you say. "When you're right there. Okay?"

Her brow creases as she tries to focus. You wonder if she's ever tried to do this before, parsing out stages to her pleasure, or if she's always just gone up and over, never thinking about how she got there.

"I--I--I think I'm--" her voice is wobbly.

You pull your hand away. She whines and her hips jab down toward your lap, seeking a touch that isn't there. You rub her thigh, slide your hand up, over the soft curve of her belly and down to press against her mons; her hips jolt again.

"Fuck you," she says feebly.

You rub your thumb back and forth, far above where she wants it. You know she can feel the contact here in her cunt, a phantom pressure to remind her how empty she is, how close she was.

"More?" you ask.

She squirms and nods. When you give her no response, she huffs a sigh, rolls her eyes, and says, "Yes, fine, yes, more, oh--shit--"

You've found her clit again. You know this time she'll already be sensitive, and she might not be able to tell you when you need to stop. You focus on watching her: the glazed look in her eyes before she shuts them, her parted lips, her frantic breaths, her rocking hips.

You time it; you pull your thumb away. She gives a frustrated cry and squirms in your lap. You take pity and give her a distraction, rubbing your cheek against her breast, finding the hint of her pebbled nipple, the one you neglected before, and biting hard. You feel the elasticity of her bra's cup more than you feel her flesh, muting the sting of your teeth, but it makes her keen.

"You've got no fucking clue how hot you are," you tell her. You bite again and tug, drawing out another delicious sound. "I haven't even taken your clothes off. Look at you. I want to do this to you forever."

Your thumb at her clit again, this time so lightly it barely counts. "You want to come, don't you?"

Her wrists twist in your grasp, but don't pull away. She says, all breathless, angry bravado, "What do you think?"

"I think I could stop right now." She gasps, though you don't stop gently rubbing her clit. "Even though I want to make you come. And after that, I want to take you upstairs and eat you out. I want to suck on you and get you all over my face. I want--"

"Oh, shit, I," she says weakly, her hips starting to twitch.

Realizing, you say, "Just from this?" She's really almost there again? "Fuck, you're incredible. Should I stop?"

"No," she whines.

"You want it harder?"

"Yes!"

You give her what she wants. Finally, she pulls her wrists out of your grip so she can grab your hand and shove it fully against her cunt, letting her ride your palm to her orgasm. Melissa's always noisy, but this time, she's loud, the sound of her desperate cry huge in the living room.

"Oh, fuck," she says faintly as she sags down onto your lap. "I, oh..."

"You did so good," you murmur to her and rub her back, grateful to have both hands again. She buries her face in your neck and clings to you, breathing hard. She mumbles something. "What, baby?"

She picks up her head a little. "I said, 'yeah, you too.'"

It makes you snort. It's a funny mix of tenderness, affection, and gratitude you feel, knowing that even after an orgasm that took her like a runaway train, she'll still make sure to remind you of your place. Can't ever get too smug around Melissa.

You trace a hand up and down her back, finding the hem of her blouse and rucking it up so you can touch her bare skin underneath. She's hot against your palm and it makes you sigh.

"You want to go upstairs and keep going?" you ask, mouth against her ear.

"I wanna recover first," she says blearily. "What the hell was that?" She sits up a bit in your lap and you have room to reach around her and pick up her water from the table.

"A little taste," you say.

She brings the glass to her lips and sips, eyes narrowed, watching you the way kung fu heroines watch their enemies, prepared to bust out their fists at any moment.

"Of what I've been thinking about," you add. You rub her lower back. "I think you liked it."

"I think you gotta be crazy to get off on somebody not letting you come," she says, then scowls. "Which I guess makes me crazy."

"I guess it does." You can't smother your smile. "You're okay, though?"

"What do you mean? I came, didn't I?"

"I mean, sometimes emotions can get weird," you say, "after doing that kind of stuff. You get a lot of hormones and chemicals in you and they can make you feel..." You shrug.

"You got a lot of experience with 'this kind of stuff'?" Now her gaze is accusing. "You been holdin' out on me?"

"No, not a lot of experience. A little, maybe." You hold her hips, rubbing your thumbs over their soft curves. "A little experience. And a lot of things I want to do to you."

Her whole body shudders. She reaches back to put her water down, then loops her arms around your neck and kisses you. It's her post-coital kiss, lazy and loving, the hunger more muted.

"Gee," she says breathlessly when you part, and repeats herself, a grin curving her lips: "Lucky me."

[sturnioz]

fratboy!chris buying shy!reader a baby pink lingerie set and surprising her with it next time he sees her

“y’like it pretty girl?”

shy!reader just standing there with a red face trying to come up with something to say

you're standing in the middle of chris' room, swirling the red heart-shaped lollipop around your tongue as you watch him walk towards his closet, pulling the doors open with a loud creak, rummaging through the chaos inside—a jumble of clothes, shoes and other items—before he emerges back out with a glossy paper gift bag, the shine catching the light as he holds it out to you.

"here. take it."

you blink in surprise and curiosity, pulling the lollipop from your mouth to ask softly, "its for me?"

"nah, s'for someone else," chris rolls his eyes exaggeratingly. "yes, kid. its f'you — take it 'n open it up."

tentatively, you extend your hand, fingers gripping the glossy bag from his grasp, staring at the elegant brand name, printed in delicate swirling script, that catches your eye. it's a name you recognise, one associated with style and luxury, but it's a place you would ever dare to shop at.

nonetheless, a shy smile breaks across your face, warmth flooding your cheeks at the thought of chris actually getting you a gift.

you open the bag, the rustle of the paper filling the silence as you carefully slip your hand inside, fingers grazing over the soft fabric at the bottom. as you pull it out, your breath hitches in the back of your throat, your eyes widening in surprise at the baby pink lingerie, the lace adorned with tiny bows.

your mouth opens and closes, unable to use your words as all the emotions hit you at once — shock, embarrassment, and a little flutter of something else that you struggle to pinpoint. you feel your heart pounding in your chest and your eyes flit up to chris who stares back at you, tilting his head to the side.

"so... y'like it or what, kid?"

you swallow hard, the dryness in your throat making it nearly impossible to respond to him. "it... its very..." you trail off, fingers trembling as they brush over the soft lace. "pink. very pink."

chris raises a brow, his expression utterly deadpan as he murmurs. "wow, congratulations. y'know your colours."