#like when you want to squeeze THE LIVING FUCK out of them while screaming how much you fucking LOVE their stupid ass

[iamasaddie]

nobody fucking talk to me i am so mad [at the universe]

[thrasherella]

Needy Werewolf Husband is going into his rut and is really, reaallllyyyyy trying to get his wife's attention away from the household chores she's insisting on finishing before he can have his way with her...

...

He followed her all around the kitchen as she tidied up, wrapping his arms around her from behind and groping her tits as she cleaned the few dishes in the sink, pinching and teasing her nipples as she sighed and moaned, grinding his hard cock into her soft ass, his breath hot and voice desperate against her ear as he begged her to let him fuck her already.

"Please let me put it in..." he whined, nipping at the shell of her ear lightly in frustration as his swollen, red cock throbbed against her, begging for more attention, for more friction, for more anything; he felt like he was starting to lose his mind.

She had told him to keep humping her ass like a horny little puppy if he couldn't wait, and he really couldn't. He continued fondling her breasts, palming and squeezing them in his massive hands, and she whimpered and mewled, rolling her hips back against his.

"See, you want it too..."

She continued to deny him as she finished wiping and organizing the kitchen counters, his cock dribbling all over her backside as he pumped against her, unable to stop himself. He needed to pin her down, needed to stuff her full of his cock; he could smell her arousal mounting as she ground that perfect little ass back against him, her honeyed scent driving him absolutely wild.

"Just a little longer love, you're being such a good boy," she cooed, scratching him gently under his chin as he made puppy dog eyes at her, eliciting from him a low, humming moan.

He humped her legs while she vacuumed the living room, whimpering and growling as she did her best to ignore him, slowly and methodically making her way across the room as he ground into her, dragging and rubbing his cock against her, staining her clothes with his sticky precum, nipping at the back of her neck and ears, demanding her attention.

"Please, need to fuck you now baby, need to fill you; need to empty my cock into your perfect little pussy and give you a litter of pups..."

"Be a good boy and wait until I'm done cleaning the bedroom, okay?" she had purred, and he whimpered a weak agreement in response.

When they got to the bedroom however, she was helpless against him as he shoved her face first down onto the mattress, ripping apart those pesky little shorts and panties that had been blocking his aching cock, confirming what he already knew from her overwhelming scent that her cunt was already drenched and waiting for him to stretch and fill her.

"I lied," he huffed, mounting her from behind and lining up his dripping cockhead with her pussy, parting her nether lips slowly around him, loving how she moaned into her pillow as he did. "I don't wanna be a good boy; and you were a bad girl, it's not nice to tease a rutting wolf...now you be good, and take my knot," he hilted into her in one hard thrust, feeling her pussy clenching around him; a low, rumbling growling escaping his throat, and a deliciously muffled scream coming from her as he knotted her, forcing every inch of himself into her tight cunt.

He was already so overstimulated, biting down into her shoulder as he came, painting her insides white as he filled her with his thick load, and she cried out as her own orgasm crashed over her, hips bucking and rolling against him, squirting her climax all over his dick and pooling on the bedsheets.

"That's a good girl," his breath was hot against her ear, pushing her hips up slightly to get one clawed hand between her and the mattress, flittering and rubbing his fingers against her swollen clit, loving how she writhed and squirmed beneath him helplessly. "No more chores, no where for you to go, sweet thing stuffed and stuck on my knot...just be a good girl and turn off your brain, and squirt on my dick again, and again, and again while I make you my cum-dumpster..."

She couldn't deny this was exactly what she wanted...she knew her husband better than anyone and knew that denying him was a sure fire way to make sure he took extra time to "punish" her for the time she had wasted keeping him waiting.

Oh no, what a tragedy that would be...

[worldlxvlys]

Hi honey can you do a text with Matt like he likes the reader and the reader likes him but they are to scared to confess and they make really sexual and suggestive comments and jokes to each other ✌🏼 I love you 💋 Matt is kinda subby and like touches himself to her messages imagining it’s real

Love you,🥰

I have a lot of ideas so just let me know if you need any 💋

texts w/ bsf! matt (part 2)

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttttt, hand job, masturbation, fantasizing

a/n: pls don’t ever stop giving me ideas this ate

previous part !

want me to help ?

any sense of self-control that i had completely left my body when i saw the sentence.

i read it over again and again, trying to figure out whether she was joking or not.

as i let my mind wander, i began to palm myself through my boxers lightly.

i thought about her face, how pretty it would look scrunched up in pleasure, while she chased her orgasm.

suddenly, i felt my phone vibrate in my hand, bringing me back to reality while i began to read the text messages.

i’d spit on the tip and watch you squirm while it dripped down.

“fuck” i sighed out, rubbing myself through the thin material as i imagined her staring up at me, her hands massaging my thighs.

my hips jerked up into the air at the thought, almost as if i could feel her teasing touches.

part of me felt guilty, imagining my best friend’s face inches away from my dick.

but if she didn’t want me to, why would she send a text like that? when we’ve flirted in the past, it was usually all jokes.

but this felt different. maybe it was the morning wood and horny state that i woke up in causing me to misjudge her intentions, or maybe she was teasing me on purpose.

either way, i had no plans of stopping myself from basking in the moment.

besides, if i have my boxers on i’m not technically touching myself to the thought of her…..right ?

i’d give you a few good pumps, squeezing the base and twisting my hand around you.

god, what was she doing ?

i began to apply more pressure to my crotch, pushing and rubbing more and more aggressively.

she was driving me crazy, it’s almost as though she wanted me to drive over to her and fuck the living shit out of her.

and with that thought, i found my mind wandering off again.

i imagined the way she’d scream my name, the way her ass would jiggle while i fucked her from behind while her legs trembled.

then i’d swirl my tongue around the tip teasingly before taking you into my mouth.

she just loved to tease me. i wonder how she’d feel if the roles were reversed.

what would she do if i rubbed my dick against her thighs ? or her stomach ? each time, managing to just miss her pussy ?

would she be a moaning mess under me, whining and crying for me to do something ?

maybe she’d grab my hand, forcing me to pump myself a few times before finally pushing into her.

i’d take every inch of you, deep throating your cock.

i was so lost in my own world, i hadn’t even realized how close i was until i was bucking my hips up into my hand, with quick gasps and curse words flying out of my mouth.

“fuck, fuck, fuck” i whispered out as my hands flew around the sheets, desperately trying to find something to hold onto.

i let out a cry of her name as i came inside of my boxers, forming a wet spot on the light-colored material.

i took in a deep breath, attempting to calm myself when i got another message.

wouldn’t stop until you begged me to.

i’d let you cum all over my face while your legs shook and your body twitched.

i quickly pulled my boxers down, throwing them haphazardly across the room.

my hand immediately flew to my dick, spreading the remains of my orgasm around, making me let out a small whine.

i began to pump myself quickly, imagining how pretty she’d look while thick spurts of my seed flew onto her face.

my eyes were scrunched up, toes curling inward while i pushed through the overwhelming amount of pleasure building inside of me.

soft whimpers fell from my mouth, as the wet sounds of my hand sliding around my dick filled the room.

my head flew back as my phone fell from my hand and onto the bed.

i imagined her on top of me, bracing herself with her hands on my knees as she rode me.

“you wanted me so bad? getting off on my text messages like a little slut? sit there and take it”

“i can’t, it’s too much” i cried out, fisting the sheets as tears pricked at the corner of my eyes.

“you can and you will. take it”

i shook my head vigorously, taking my bottom lip between my teeth. “i can’t-” i started.

she’d loop her fingers into my hair, yanking my head towards her chest.

taking the hint, i’d bring my mouth to one of her tits swirling my tongue around her nipple.

i was ripped out of my fantasy quickly, as my hips began to stutter.

i let out an embarrassingly loud whine as my load spilled out of me, covering my abs and thighs.

my body trembled, muscles contracting and relaxing as the aftershocks ran through me.

“holy shit” i whispered as the reality of the situation hit me.

i just jerked off to my best friend’s text messages.

and that was the hardest i’d ever came before.

i fucked up.

🦋🦋🦋🦋

yayyy double update bc i love you <333

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[sleepinghypnos]

The Creed

Chapter 2 - Second Plate...

Genre: Smut

Tags: F/M, F/F/M, F/F/F/M, Facefuck, Throatfucking Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Harem, Self-degradation, Masochism/Sadism(?), Cum Play, Piss Play

(The things in the tags will be present when the time needs for it.)

Disclaimer: This work is a fan-fiction and does not depict the person/people mentioned in the story.

A/N: You can self-insert if you want...

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“Just like that, obediently lay down and be used by me.”

“YES SIR, OH MY GOD!!! YOU ARE HITTING SO FUCKING D-DEEP!!! I'M YOUR SLUT, YOURS ALONE, PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME. RUIN ME FOR OTHER MEN. UGGHHHH, UGH-FUCCCK, SHIIIIIT!!!” Karina moans like a total slut craving for some rough fucking... Vlad told her to bend her knees to her chest and raises her feet while laying down, penetrating her deeper making her eyes rolling back and her tongue lolling out.

His study has a bed for the reason that he sleeps in the study more frequently instead of his bedroom since he's getting more requests nowadays.

"That's it, lose yourself in pleasure. Let me see that tongue of yours lolling out." Vlad thrusting into her with a fierce and unrelenting force, his massive rod buried deep inside her, Karina couldn't help but let out a string of moans and gasps that echoed throughout the room.

Karina was known for her confidence and strength on stage, in this moment, she was completely submissive to the man's will. Letting herself get consumed by lust and her carnal desire to be used.

“How are you so fucking b-big” She said between moans.

“You'll take this dick everyday whenever I want to, fucking slut. You are MINE now.” He slapped her face then grabbed her neck to choke her while still fucking her deeply.

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“AACHHKKK- YES SIR! I'm your dumb slut. Just a cum d-dumpster for you, PLEASE F-FUCK ME. USE ME WHENEVER YOU WANT.” She managed to respond despite the choking.

Vlad is fascinated in her hidden slutty side. He just knows that k-pop idols are the horniest because of their job to act the way people want them to behave and so their real personality lay dormant within them until provoked. “I'll use you, keep begging slut."

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“YOUR DICK FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD!!!” She screams in ecstasy as she lay underneath him. “IT'S REACHING SO DEEP!!!”

He's kissing her in a ravenous passion, unrelenting with his thrust, and insatiable lust for her, for her clenching walls massaging his entire length... Seeing her beg for more adds fuel to his already burning and scorching desire to claim her, make her dependent on him, a cockslave... that only lives for his pleasure.

“You like that? You like getting treated like piece of meat... like an object of pleasure?” He grinned at her moving his hips in a rhythm that stimulates her even further.

He squeezing her cheeks with his hand and she can barely talk. “YESSHH SHIRR! I"M A DUMB WHORE, A FUCK MEAT READY TO PLEASHHURE YOU ANYTIME.” She gave a very satisfying answer.

“Right, a fuck meat, remember your role from now on.” He thrusts his hips forward and meet her cervix in one fell swoop. Karina screams her lungs out as she felt his huge cock trying to enter the forbidden domain, she's new in deep penetration. This is her first time getting railed to the extent that she can feel a cock touching her deep ends.

“OH FUUUUCKKK!!! TOO DEEP! YOU ARE TOO DEEP SIRRRR!! SHIT, SHIT, SHIIIIT!!!!” She said as Vlad pounded into her by pulling his entire length except the tip then thrusting full throttle over and over again. "SIR, I'M CUMMING!!! SHITTTT. LET ME CUM, LET ME CUM PLEAAASSHHH!"

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“SIR, Y-YOU'RE SPLITTING ME APART!!! HE-HEHEHE, FUUUCCCKKK! KEEP USING ME. PLEASE. HEH-EHEHE. IT FEELS SO. FUCKING. GOOD!!!! ” She's losing her mind, laughing... Vlad continues to pound her not stopping. “AAAAHHHHH, I'M CUMMIIIIIINNNGGG!!!” Karina squeal as she explode, squirting... Vlad's fucked her through her orgasm making it more sensitive and stimulating until he reached his own peak and release it inside of her womb.

"I'M CUMMING INSIDE OF YOU, SLUT!!!"

"YEEEES PLEASE FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME." Karina said while still overstimulated, and felt a surge of liquid in her womb. "HEHE-HE, I can feel you cum inside of me, it's warm... I want it everyday, i want to be fucked silly by you... Sir.. please, can you please continue using me?" She said while caressing her underbelly that is noticeably bulging due to Vlad's massive load.

"Of course, fucking dumb whore... you are mine now. I'm going to use you whenever I want to." He said while pulling out watching his obscene amount of cum pour out of Karina's now loose pussy.

She smiled, “Yes, I'm a dumb whore, thank you for putting me in my place, Sir. Please keep reminding me with your massive cock...” Karina stares at Vlad with such submissiveness as if she's been bewitched by him...

Vlad left Karina in his study to rest, since she's worn out even with just one session with him. Even if he claims that he'll use her which is the truth, he's not a total scumbag that he will not look out for her well being. He then decided to go to his firing range to let off steam, Karina is a lucky one, he showed mercy to her since she's half drunk when she went to see him...

When he arrived, he was welcomed by a small petite figure rummaging his armory... "What are you doing here?" he said.

A/N: A short update... Oh wait, all my works are short... Anyways, enjoy this short piece.

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x Reader ~ 3/6

cw: more angst, 18+ mdni , Male masturbation, little bit of perv eddie, dirty talk, praise/degradation, Daddy!kink won the poll, oral (f receiving), light spanking, fingering, p in v, (no use of condoms but reader says she is on the pill) cum eating, like a teeny weeny bit of anal play but not really…

Master list

cw: 7.8k

Eddie could not believe what just happened. What the fuck were you thinking?! Wearing that! Dancing like that! Getting on your knees for him in front of everyone?!

Eddie had to get out of there; he was only a man. He wouldn’t be able to hide his boner if he continued to watch. You didn’t give him a choice; he had to leave.

The second Eddie saw you in those little shorts with those shoes! Those fucking five inch stilettos that made your legs look so long and lean. Then you bend over in those shorts… and on to of that the song's lyrics were so sexual that there was no way for Eddie to survive.

The image of you was burned into Eddie’s head; it played on a loop as he hid deep in the forested area behind some bushes, trying to relieve himself.

Leaned up against an old oak tree, Eddie stroked his cock. God, Eddie felt like a pervert, but two weeks of pent-up attraction could only go so far. Living in tight quarters with bunk mates, he had no choice but to sneak off to relieve himself. It had been days since Eddie saw you in your bikini, and he hadn’t been able to get rid of the urge to touch himself since.

Eddie thought of your hands, how they ran all over your body while dancing. He was so jealous of your hands. He wished he could touch you the way you touched yourself. To kiss, to graze, to squeeze every inch of you.

He imagined you, in that little outfit you were just prancing in, on your knees for him, he pictured your mouth replacing his hand.

“Oh fuck Princess” he mumbled as he got closer and closer.

When Eddie finished, he walked out from behind the trees and saw two silhouettes standing closely behind the barn. As he got closer, he saw that it was you and Billy. He was kissing your cheek, you were smiling up at him, he said something, and you hugged him.

The jealous rage was returning within Eddie and he could no longer watch…

Were you using him to get Billy? Is Eddie just a prop in your game? Was it Billy that Steve suggested you had a crush on?

Eddie could no longer watch and stormed off.

“FUCK” he yelled when he reached the cabin.

“Jesus Christ, dude!” Steve screamed.

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be back yet.” Eddie shrugged off his leather jacket and crawled into bed.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.”

Steve watched as Eddie rolled over and didn’t say anything for the rest of the night.

—

The next morning, Eddie was in no better mood. Worse, actually, because he couldn’t sleep.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts, but he still didn’t bother to get up. He pretended to stay asleep so he wouldn’t have to get to the door.

Again, another knock came, and no one got up.

Eddie could hear a small “hello” coming from the outside. He peeked his eye open a sliver to see if anyone would get the door, but to his surprise, he was alone.

He must have been too wrapped up in his own sulking to hear them leave.

Eddie looked at his watch, it was 7:46 am. Shit, he had to get up.

Knock, knock, knock.

“What do you want?” Eddie half yelled as he yanked open the door.

He wasn’t expecting to see you on the other side, but there you were, like an angel with two cups of coffee… just like every other morning. You even looked like an angel in your baby blue tank top and white terry cloth shorts that literally said “angel” with blue angel wings on one leg,

Eddie froze, staring at you, waiting for you to respond.

“Oh, uh” you clear your throat. "sorry, I’ll just go.” Your voice was so quiet. You shoved the cup of coffee into Eddie's hand before turning to run away.

Before Eddie’s brain could compute what to say, he swore he heard you sniffle. Eddie went to run after you but Steve blocked his way.

“Dude, what did you do! I see Bambi crying last night, and now I see her leaving our cabin and she is crying again?” Steve came into the cabin rubbing a towel over his wet hair.

“Fuck” Eddie dragged his hands over his face.

“I think I fucked up, man; I snapped at her just now, I had a terrible sleep, and she is driving me crazy.” He finally admits.

“She probably came here to apologize to you.”

“To me? What for?”

“She thinks she made you feel uncomfortable.”

“She made me feel uncomfortable alright, fucking popped a boner in front of everyone like I was thirteen.” Eddie huffed.

“Go apologize, man. She put herself out there last night; she said she felt embarrassed because you had left.”

“No, that’s not what happened!”

“We’ll go fix this because she thinks she thinks you’re disgusted by her…” Steve stepped closer to Eddie to whisper, even though they were the only ones in the cabin. “I am really not supposed to be telling anyone else this, especially you, but when I said Bambi had a crush on someone here, it wasn’t about me or Ashton, especially not Billy, if you get what I mean.” Steve looked around to make sure no one was listening.

“What do you mean? I saw her and Billy together after the show behind the barn. They looked pretty close and cozy to me.” Eddie sarcastically laughed.

“Oh my god, how are you so thick?” Steve said under his breath, but Eddie still heard.

“Hey!”

“Dude, she was only out there because she got upset you left; Coyote saw her and went to comfort her. She wants you, dude! Why do you think she did that dance routine? Do you think she ever has danced like that here? No, it's always soft, pretty little ballet numbers, but this year… You’re here, she dresses all sexy, and dancing to Zeppelin? You don’t think that has anything to do with you? She did that for you and you left. How do you think that made her feel?” Steve was pissed off, upset his friend was hurting, annoyed that you both were still literally dancing around the fact you both like each other.

Eddie stood there, taking in all the information Steve had just told him.

It wasn’t even 8:00 am, and Eddie was still half asleep, but he thought he understood what Steve was saying.

“So you’re telling me she did all that last night for me?” He clarified.

“Yes. Jesus Christ! Now put on a shirt and hurry, we are late!” He said as he walked out the door, leaving Eddie dumbfounded.

—

You try your best to avoid Eddie for the next few hours. You couldn’t believe that this was happening. You had put on your cutest outfit that you brought to camp to help you feel better, but it did nothing for your confidence when Eddie opened the door. His voice was callous and mean, like when talking to the popular kids at school.

You hadn’t ever been the brunt of it before now. You do not react well to people yelling at you to begin with, so Eddie's reaction solidified that you indeed fucked up.

Clearly, coffee was not going to fix things…

It was Monday, dance day, so at least you had the distraction and spent the whole day teaching. However, during Eddie’s group session after lunch, you tried to avoid eye contact with him, as you could feel his intense gaze on you. You tried to stay focused; you really tried, but the pit you had in your chest was making if very difficult.

“Hey Bambi, you going to teach those kids the moves you showed us last night? OW OWWWW!” Nick, another councillor walking by, yelled into the studio, breaking your concentration and your eyes threatened to well up.

“Bite me, Nick!” You spit back at him.

“Oh, I’d love too, baby. Name a time and place.” He then proceeded to wolf whistle at you.

You jump as the second studio door slams open behind you and you see Eddie as he storms out, leaving behind a stunned silence. You watch as he turns his back to you and disappears out of sight. The kids look at each other, unsure of what to do next, but Ashton steps up to take charge, saying they still have to listen to you.

You couldn’t help but want to run after Eddie, but you know that you have a job to do, so you turn your attention back to the task at hand.

—

“Name a time and place.” The second the words left that douchebag’s mouth, Eddie was fuming. How dare he embarrass you like that!

Eddie's legs started moving before my brain could compute what it was doing and before he knew it, Eddie had Nick pinned to the wall, bracing his throat with his forearm.

“I hear another comment from you about Y/N. You’re done!” He sneered.

“Whoah, dude, chill out. I was having some fun,” He defended.

His nameless friend tried pulling Eddie off, but he wasn’t letting go until Eddie heard Nick say it.

“I don’t think you understood me. You talk about her like that again, and I find out? We are going to have a big problem.”

Eddie could feel two pairs of hands pulling him off this Nick.

“Ok, Ed, we don’t want any trouble.” Steve’s voice came from behind,

“You didn’t hear the disgusting thing he said about Bambi.” Eddie was seeing red.

“Okay, dude, take a fifteen. I’ll help Ashton round up the kids for the next activity.” Steve spoke in a calming voice.

“I fuck, shit, ok. I... I don’t know what is wrong with me today… I just needed some space to clear my head.”

Eddie took a short walk to the lake shore, where no one was around. His temper has always needed work.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, looking around to make sure Carol was nowhere to be found before he lit up.

As he inhaled, a sense of relief washed over him. Eddie realized he hadn’t been able to sneak a cigarette since last night… that’s another reason he’s been so on edge.

Eddie sat by the water, inhaling the smoke, thinking about how he could fix things with you.

He fucked up, his own pride got the best of him, and he needed to apologize.

Looking around, Eddie spotted some wildflowers, and he got an idea.

—

Today was long, and you were exhausted mentally and physically. After the bonfire, you decided not to join the others and went to read instead. You needed some alone time; being around people twenty-four-seven for weeks on end can get overwhelming.

You walked into your empty cabin and spotted something on your bed that hadn’t been there before you left.

Sitting on your sleeping bag was a note with some purple and yellow wildflowers tied up with twine.

You reached down and picked up the note. It read: I’m sorry. Meet me tomorrow outside the mess hall at lunch if you want to talk.” - Lancelot a.k.a Eddie Munson a.k.a a big Moron

You smiled at the note, picked up the flowers, and put them in a cup of water on the bedside table.

Maybe tomorrow will be better…

—

You were anxiously waiting outside at 11:55 am. The sky was overcast, but the humidity was still lingering. You didn’t go in for food beforehand because you couldn’t stomach it until you knew what Eddie wanted to discuss.

“Good, you got my note.” He smiled shyly.

“Yeah, thank you,” you try smiling back.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for acting like a jerk the past few days…” he looked down at his shoes, not making eye contact.

“Yeah, you sure were acting like one.” You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes as a defence mechanism.

You wanted to accept his apology, but he must explain himself more.

“Princess, come on, don’t be a brat.” he was stern.

“Why are you being so mean?” You pout.

Eddie couldn’t resist when you made that face, all he wanted was to grab your face and kiss you when you make that face.

“Fuck, I don’t know? I like you, okay. You’re way cooler than I thought you would be, and you’d never be friends with someone like me.”

Friends

“Says who?” You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Everybody!”

“Ashley is my best friend you’re like the guy version of her!”

“It’s not the same!”

“How is it not the same?!”

You both were now yelling m, frustrated over the miscommunication.

“You don’t get it! You would never in a million years be with someone like me.”

“Eddie ple—"

BOOM

The air was tense as a deafening crack of thunder echoed through the sky. Startled, you let out a scream that was quickly muffled as Eddie's arms wrapped tightly around you, cradling you against his broad shoulder, acting out on instinct to protect you.

The scent of his woodsy pine deodorant and fresh aftershave washed over you, offering a small sense of comfort amidst the sudden roar of thunder.

You looked up into his eyes, you could tell he had so much more to say but as if on cue, another thunderclap rumbled overhead, followed by a blinding bolt of lightning that illuminated the sky. The downpour began in earnest, drenching everything in sight within seconds.

Without hesitation, Eddie grasped your hand firmly and guided you towards the safety of the mess hall, where the terrified children were already screaming in fear.

Your eyes rolled involuntarily at the situation, knowing that your conversation with Eddie would have to wait yet again as you worked to ensure everyone was accounted for and safe during the storm.

-

The storm had been raging for four hours, unleashing its fury on the hall, making it impossible to leave. The howling wind was like a freight train, and the rain was so heavy that it created a constant drumming on the windows.

The room lit up every few minutes as lightning struck, illuminating it in a dazzling display of light. Suddenly, the power went out, leaving the room in complete darkness. Thankfully, the backup generator kicked in after only ten minutes, providing some much-needed light and comfort.

Despite the chaos outside, you, Eddie and the other counsellors entertained the children, trying to keep their minds off the storm. Eddie had brought his guitar, and he sang every camp song he knew, turning the room into a makeshift concert hall. The children were delighted, and you couldn't help but smile as you watched Eddie interact with them. He had a way of making them feel special, especially the younger ones who clung to him like he was the coolest guy on the planet.

After about an hour, Eddie needed a break. You could tell he was getting tired, and his fingers were starting to ache. You teased Eddie, telling the kids that the “rockstar" needed his intermission.

They groaned but soon found something else to occupy their time. As the storm continued to rage outside, you caught Eddie looking at you several times. You tried not to look up, but you couldn't help but feel his gaze on you. It reminded you of the first night of the bonfire when you had both shared a moment. But now, you were unsure of what was happening between the two of you - it was uncomfortable and strange.

—

That night, you still managed to have a bonfire. The logs were luckily kept in a shed protected from the rain so they were still dry enough to burn even after the storm.

You hadn’t really felt better after Eddie’s interaction earlier… what did he mean by he liked you? Did he only want to be friends? He said the word friend.

You had been a lot quieter than usual, so Robin asked if you were okay. When you shook your head no, Robin pulled you off to the side, sneaking off to the dock while everyone was at the Bonfire.

You needed to vent to her; the agony of not knowing what Eddie thought of you was killing you, and you had to spill your guts to someone who wouldn’t judge you.

“I just don’t understand Birdie; I’ve been giving him so many hints, so many signals! I don’t think he’s into me.” You groaned.

“No, absolutely not. You’re a smoke show. He’d be blind not to like you, Bams… also I might have heard something from Steve.” She smiled.

“AND you’re just telling me now?!” You yelled, then quickly covered your mouth, forgetting you had snuck off and were supposed to be supervising the kids.

“Moose and Lancelot are roommates they talk. And he told Moose he doesn’t stop talking about you; he won’t stop gushing about how sweet and kind you are. He is super protective of you, and he told Moose no one should take advantage of you.”

“What I would give to have him take advantage of me.” You groaned in frustration.

Defeated, you lay backward on the dock, looking up at the stars. At this moment, you were really starting to second-guess your whole school persona. Maybe being a goodie two shoes wasn’t the way to go? Maybe you should have just been yourself from the start.

“Bams, listen, if anything, just think of how we managed to get some last summer.” She wiggled her brows, reminiscing on your extra curricular activities.

“I remember you telling me about that one move you did on Brandon that had him drooling over you?” You smirked at the memory.

Last year, Brandon was just a distraction for the summer, no real feeling, just friends doing one another a favour. You hadn’t really thought about him until now because he wasn’t back this summer.

“Yeah, he was a good time, but nothing more. With Eddie, I just can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like I can’t breathe or sleep without him on my mind!” You dragged your hands across your face.

“Girl, you got it, baaaaaaaad,”

Do do. You really, really do.

“I just don’t get it! I’ve been throwing myself at him for the past two weeks, Bird! I could literally be on my knees begging to be sucking Eddie’s dick, and he still wouldn’t get it through his thick head that that I like him, no correction, I’m in lo—”

“You could be doing what now?” Eddie voice echoed.

You freeze, you feel like your heart is about to fall out of your ass. You’re too scared to look, but Robin tugs you back to a seated position. How much had he heard?

Slowly, you both turn to see Eddie standing there, eyebrows raised, hair pulled back in a low bun, some pieces framing his chiselled face, black sweatpants and a band tee with his red flannel over the top; he stood alone with a marshmallow falling off the roasting stick.

He looked so handsome in the moonlight.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” you mumble under your breath.

“I’m going to leave you two… to talk.” Robin stood, and you looked at her with pleading eyes for her not to leave.

“It will be fine, Bams. Just let go.” You realized you had grabbed her shirt sleeve.

As Robin walked away, Eddie slowly made his way towards you and took a seat on the wooden planks, where Robin had just been sitting. He let his legs dangle over the edge, his feet just barely brushing the surface of the water. In any other situation, the sound of the water hitting the shoreline would have calmed you, but now, it only aided your impending anxiety.

Eddie took a deep breath, about to speak, but you beat him.

“How much did you hear?” You pinched your brow bone.

“Enough” was all he said back.

“Well, if you excuse me, I’m going to go drown myself in the lake now. Bye.” You try to quickly stand up to walk away, but he also stands and reaches his arm out to stop you. You feel Eddie hold your hand, and a shiver runs through you; your flesh ignites into a million goosebumps.

Eddie just shook his head and laughed.

“You flatter me, Princess.” He was so calm, much different than this afternoon.

“Well, now that you, uh, know… I’ll just leave you alone.” You looked down at your hands and pulled away.

“Who said I want you to leave me alone?” He questioned.

“I... uh…well, you clearly aren’t interested in me like that , so I thought…” You shrugged your shoulders in defeat, still looking down.

“Princess, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” His hand lifts up your chin, and you feel his warm breath on your face.

You try to look away, but something about the way his eyes catch the moonlight makes it impossible to avert your gaze. As you meet his stare, you can see that his eyes are the most beautiful shade of brown you have ever seen. They are soft and deep, and you can't help but get lost.

“Why did you leave the talent show?” You half whispered, too ashamed of the memory.

“I was embarrassed.” he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” You tried turning around to leave again, too ashamed of what you had done.

“No, Princess, you didn’t do anything wrong! I left because I couldn’t stop myself from… reacting to you.” He grasped your sleeve in his hand to stop you from leaving.

“I don’t understand?” You looked at him quizzically and let out a loud sigh.

“Princess, don’t make me say it.” He laughed uncomfortably.

“Eds, tell me… please.” You pleaded.

He looked at you momentarily, then looked down at the water splashing below.

“Princess, you really know how to make a man feel… certain things…” he tried explaining but was vague about it.

“oooookay?” You didn’t get it.

“I can’t do this to you,” he sighed.

“Do what?” You ask even more confused.

“You’re too innocent.” he shook his head.

“Innocent?!” You take a step back.

“Ugh, fine. You really want to know?” he raised his brows.

“YES!” Now you were beginning to get frustrated.

“You gave me a boner, okay!. That’s why I left.” His voice was stern again.

You stood there, dumbfounded.

Here you were all this time thinking you had made a fool of yourself when, in fact, the plan had worked all along.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Don’t laugh! I had a big problem and had to take care of it.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was a big problem.” you winked.

Eddie is caught off guard by your comment but his reaction was priceless.

“You should have stuck around; I could have helped you with that big problem.” you bite your lip and taking a step closer.

Your sudden confidence was strong.

“Princess…” His voice wavered.

“Yes, Eddie?” You whispered as you raised to my tip toes to kiss his neck.

“I.. oh god… Princess, I…I can’t do this,” He admitted.

You back away again as he speaks.

“Can’t? Or don’t want to?” You do your best to hold back a quiver of your lip. You don’t understand? Did he have a girlfriend?

“I would have to be clinically insane not to want to. Jesus, I just can’t, Princess, you’re too innocent!” emphasis on can’t.

“What do you mean innocent?” is the second time he has said this.

“You said it yourself! In the game of truth or dare, remember?! I can’t be the one you have your first experience with…” he trailed off,

Your look of confusion dissipates as the realization of Eddie thinking you’ve never slept with anyone before hits you.

“Who said I’m a virgin?” You cock your head and take a step closer to Eddie.

I…uh.. well, you know, I thought because you said no guy has ever made you… you know… and you have a reputation at home of being you know… a good girl.” He pleads his case.

“So because I didn’t let any of those high school boys touch me I must be still pure is that it?”

“Well— "

"They don’t know how to please a woman, Eddie… So what am I to do?" You took a step closer, filling the gap between you. “Let them feel me up, and be done within 2 minutes and leave me disappointed and dissatisfied… trust me, been there, done that.”

Eddie’s eyes blow wide open at your confession.

“I’m not going to have that happen just so Jason or Brad can go off bragging to all their friends about fucking the goodie-two-shoes cheerleader, making me a slut.… No. I didn’t let high school boys touch me. Besides, non of those meathead jocks are my type.”

“W-what is your type?” Eddie swallowed hard, scanning down your body, then back up, staring into your eyes.

“Musicians are kind of my thing, especially guitar players. They’re good with their hands…and I bet you can put yours to good use.” You placed your hand on his chest and pressed up on your toes to whisper in his ear.

A shiver ran up Eddie’s spine, and he was at a complete loss for words.

“Eddie, can you show me what all the other girls at home are dying to know?” you bite your lip once more.

“What’s… that?” He managed to get out.

“Oh, come on, Eddie. Like you don’t know?… I’m not the only one people at school use to talk about.”

“Oh, I know what people say about me. I’m a freak.” His tone was so serious.

“Not that.”

“Yes… that,” he hesitated.

“There is a rumour going around thatall the girls want to know.” You bite you lip. “Even if they don’t want to admit it; we all are curious.” Your hand slipped from his chest down his toned stomach to the waistband of his sweatpants

“Curious about what?” his breath was laboured.

“That you’re really… well equipped.” You tilted my head up to him, giving him a coy smile.

Eddie was still breathing heavily; he was getting more and more aroused by the second. Never had he thought he would get to see this side of you.

You could feel the pressure building in his pants as you pressed your body into his.

“From what I can feel, Eddie…” your hand ran down to his bulge from his waistband where it had been resting. “The rumours don’t disappoint.”

You raised up onto your tip toes again and tilted your head to place a gentle kiss on his neck.

“Come on, Eddie, you going to prove me right? Fuck me like I know you can? How I’ve been dreaming about?” You whispered in his ear, breath hot on his neck, praying that you once again were not coming on too strong, but at this point, you’d had enough runaround; it was now or never.

Something switched on inside Eddie. He was animalistic, almost primal. All the pent-up tension and flirting led to this moment. He didn’t think when grabbed your hand and ran. He needed to find you two somewhere private, and fast.

You realize he was leading you towards his van. So many nights you dreamed about him taking you into the back of it and ravaging you. You couldn’t help but giggle behind him as he pulled you towards the parking lot.

“Shit!” Eddie mumbled under his breath, realizing his keys were back at the cabin.

“I think I know a better spot.” You grabbed his hand and led him towards the other side of the lake opposite the bonfire.

It was almost 9:30. Robin could cover until it was free time for counsellors.

You brought Eddie to a hidden part of the campgrounds; through the clearing. Right beside the shoreline was a smaller abandoned cabin.

“This is a secret not a lot of people know about. It used to be another cabin used for bad campers, who need time outs or a break from everyone, but we don’t use it anymore.” You explained.

Inside was a double-size bed frame and mattress, some shelves, and a chair. It was a little dingy, but it would do.

You locked the door behind you; god forbid, a camper came exploring before bed.

You take a breath and walked over to Eddie, who was already sitting on the edge of the bed. You situated yourself so you are standing between his legs. Your faces were pretty much level in this position. Eddie sat there gazing up at you as you grabbed his hands and guided them to your waist, then slowly, you brought your hands up to the back of his neck.

“I hope you know I’ve wanted this since the tenth grade,” you whispered, still scared to admit it.

Eddie groaned and brought his lips to yours with a feverish wanting. You hadn’t felt a kiss like this ever. You swear you saw fireworks as your heart fluttered. The kiss was so good you couldn’t help but let a small moan slip.

Eddie started moving his hands down from your waist to your hips and across your ass. Feeling brave, he gave it a squeeze, and you giggled at the innocent action.

You bring your knees up on the bed to straddle him. You could feel his excitement immediately as you gently shifted your weight down on his lap.

Your lips never broke, only when you went to take off your hoodie and shirt.

Eddie admired your breasts that were situated right as his eyes level, he bent down to kiss and suck of the tops of your tits and he kneaded them in his hands.

You needed more, you wanted more so you began to grind your hips into him, again and again. Eddie moaned into your mouth, and you parted your lips letting him slip in his tongue. He tasted like cigarettes and s’mores.

You break the kiss and start working a trail of kisses down his neck.

God, the countless hours you’d daydream about leaving hickeys was finally a reality.

Your kiss trialled down and found the spot just under his jaw that made him moan your real name. It sounded so sweet coming from is lips. That you sucked on that one spot until you were satisfied with your mark. You wanted to claim him as your own. You trailed your hands down his chest until they were situated between you. You felt the cotton of his pants tented in your hand as you palmed his cock.

Eddie grabbed your hips and ground into you with more pressure, making you let out a breathy sigh.

“More, Eddie, I need more.”

“More what, baby? Tell me what you need.”

“You, please, I need you to make me feel good.”

You can feel the tension in his shoulder release.

He flipped you over, your back landing on the mattress, and he hovered over you.

“Such a good girl, using your words for me.” he pulled off your sweatpants, exposing your black lace panties. "You going to let me be in control?"

"Yes" you whisper.

"Tell me what you want." he conmanded

“Please touch me, Eddie.” You had never felt this wet before. You led his hand to your pulsing heat, but he stopped at the hem of your waistband. He took charge when he hooked his fingers in and yanked them down. You were glistening; you could feel the string of wetness being pulled with your panties.

“Oh, baby…I knew you would have such a pretty pussy” he whispered, not breaking his eye contact.

The longer Eddie prolonged touching you the more brattier you became. You were a wreck. You needed any relief. You were almost crying; it was pitiful.

“Please, baby, I need you.” You whine.

Eddie leaned down to kiss you again before he moved to your neck.

Your breath hitched as he finally put his hands where you needed him most. He took no time to find your swollen clit; his fingers grazed over you in quick small circles with the perfect amount of pressure. You were putty in his hands.

“Oh baby, you’re so wet already? I’ve hardly even touched you; you’re just that much of a slut for me, hmm?” he spoke as he continued to kiss your neck.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Yes, what?” he pushed two fingers up, pumping into you.

Another pitiful moan fell from your lips as he stretched you out, but then he stopped moving his hands.

“I want you to say it.” His eyes were dark, almost black.

You were so turned on by this side of Eddie that you might explode.

“I’m… you're slut” you’re breathless.

"I'm you're slut... what?

"Sir?" you question.

"Close but not my favourite... no," he smirks. "Only certain girls get to call me this... it's special. You're special." His tongue flicks the skin of your neck and you shiver.

"What you're going to address me as is, Daddy. Is that okay with you, baby girl?"

"Yes, Daddy," your head was spinning.

“Good girl.” He pulled out his fingers; you almost protested but saw he was removing his shirt, so you waisted no more time to remove your bra.

“What was it you said, baby? You could be on your knees begging for my cock? We’ll look who’s on their knees for this sweet little pussy.”

Eddie didn’t give any time to react because he licked his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit.

“Oh my god,” your hand gripped his hair, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Not god, baby, just me.” He winked, and you tried to roll your eyes at his ridiculousness, but he cut you off by latching back onto your clit.

Eddie ate your pussy like he was worshiping you. You felt the oh-so-familiar pleasure that you only feel when you’re alone, build and build.

“Holly shit, Eddie,” you moaned and he stopped.

"Am I going to have to punish you?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"That's okay, I'll forgive you this time." Eddie latched his lips back down on yours quickly; your orgasm was building as his skilled tongue worked your pussy.

“You’re such a good girl, come on baby, I know you can do it” he replaced his mouth with his fingers, and he easily slipped two inside, his words making your pussy clench.

“Oh, you like being called a good girl, don’t you, sweetheart.” He cooed in your ear.

"Yes, Daddy." You moan his name repeatedly like a prayer.

“Oh, you definitely like it; I can feel you squeeze my fingers whenever I say it.” He mused.

“Please… stop teasing me; I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” you begged him.

“Oh, have you now? Tell Daddy more.” Eddie pumped his fingers slowly; it was agonizing.

“Please just fuck me, Eddie! Please, I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you. I need you, only you, please.” Your admission came out as a whisper.

“I’ll take good care of you, Princess. But we will have to work on the Daddy thing.” He kissed you so softly at first, then it turned into something so much more passionate; he slipped his tongue in, and you accepted it willingly.

He was so addictive, like your own personal drug. You’ve felt your first hit and you needed more.

Eddie trailed his hands down your body as he continued to kiss you. You can’t help but grinding your hips against his cloth-covered pelvis, leaving a wet sticky mess in your wake.

“Please, I want your cock so bad, give it to me, it’s ok I’m on the pill.” You begged, realizing he probably didn’t have a condom.

He pulled out his cock out of his pants so fast your eyes widened at the size, the rumours were in fact true.

You instinctively went to reach for him; mouth already salivating. Eddie watched you lick your lips, but he pushed you back down on the bed.

“Next time, sugar,” he kissed your neck again. Fully knowing if your mouth went anywhere near his cock he would be cuming at a speed that would definitely embarrass him.

“Next time?” You gasp.

“Oh yeah, Princess. Not giving you up just yet.”

You gasped once again, only this time his mouth latched onto your own when he finally pushed your legs wider so he could run himself through your wet pussy folds.

He slowly eased his way in. It burned how he stretched you out, but it was so good that you wanted more. He was long and thick, the biggest you’ve had yet.

When he bottomed out, another feral noise was unleashed from your lungs.

“That’s it, baby, let the whole camp know what a slut you are for me.” He started slowly thrusting so you could adjust properly to his size. His words only made you more aroused.

You kissed him again and begged for more once your body adjusted to Eddie.

He unexpectedly grabs both of your ankles and throws your legs over his shoulders, and his thrusts start to speed up.

“Oh, look at you taking Daddy's cock so well; your little pussy is sucking me in so good.” You looked down the valley of your breast at him, watching as he fucked into you.

“Fuck oh! My god! Yes!” You reached for him; he leaned down, bending your legs to your ears

You’re thanking the heavens right now that you’re this flexible because the new angle was even deeper. Your mouths latched on to one another, and you kissed him hard.

His thrusts were deep but not enough; Eddie could sense that it was going to take a little bit more work to get you off because he was already close.

“Turn over, baby, show me that perfect ass.” He let go of your legs and sat up.

Quickly you turned over, ass on full display. You gasped as a hard SMAK echoed through the room.

“Had I known you were this much of a slut for me, I would have had you months ago.” He growled.

“Would have let you fuck me back in high school”

You feel him bend down, nipping the bottom right side of your ass cheek, exactly where the little heart tattoo was.

“God, you’re sexy.” He breathed between your legs before shoving his face neck into your pussy one more time.

You wiggled your ass into him letting gone another moan.

“Can’t get enough of this fucking pussy” Eddie’s eyes roll back in his head.

“Eddie, baby, I need your cock so bad.” You whine as he lines himself up at your soaking entrance. You could feel your slick dripping down your inner thighs; you were so wet.

When Eddie slipped back into you, your hands give out, and your face falls into the mattress. He slipped his hand around to play with your clit as he pounds into you from behind.

He was so deep, you felt so full. He was the best you’ve ever had. Maybe it was the emotions behind who it was, or maybe he was just that good; one thing is for sure: you would never give this up for anything.

“That right, baby, who owns this pussy.” His dirty words only turned you on more.

Your orgasm was so close. The way your body was tightening, your teeth gritted as you tried to hold it together.

“Yo—oh god yes…. fuck” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his thrusts only quickened and went even deeper if that was even possible.

another SMAK

“I said, who does this pussy belong to?” You could hear him speaking through his teeth.

“FUCK… you! Daddy! It’s all yours! Only yours! I want to be yours,” you screamed in pleasure.

“That's fucking right” The tips of his fingers dug deeper into your hips, using you as he pleased, and you let him. At this point you would do anything for him the way he was making you feel in this moment.

You were getting close; you heard him spit and felt something wet hit between your ass cheeks, and he grazed a finger over your tight, puckered hole, a new sensation you’d never felt before. Your head lolled back and moaned his name.

“Yeah, baby, you like it when I play with your little hole? Who knew you were a little slut for me?”

Me. I did.You think.

“Only for you, feels so good baby” you panted.

“Keep talking like that, Princess. I’m close; I know you are, too. Tell me, how my cock makes you feel” his breath was becoming laboured.

“Feels…so good, I’ve never! Never had anyone make me feel this good.” It was the truth.

He hunched over further, grabbed your chest, and lifted your upper body so your back was pressed parallel to his chest as he continued thrusting up into you. The new angle is even more satisfying than the last.

He grabbed your breast and was playing with your nipples, pinching and squeezing with one hand and mimicking the same on your clit with the other. Eddie kissed down the side of your neck, and you could feel the hickeys forming, not caring at the moment what people would say in the morning about the marks.

“Im so close,” you barely made out as a whisper.

“Come, baby, be my good girl; come for me.” His voice was deeper, sultry. You grabbed his wrist of the hand that was on your clit to brace yourself.

Your body quivered as your orgasm hit you, unlike any other you could give yourself.

Your legs gave out, and you fell to the mattress, ass still in the air for Eddie to keep going until he had his way with you. Almost overstimulated, Eddie finished pulling out of you at the last second.

You can hear moaning from above as the hot liquid coats your ass and lower back. Laboured breathing started to become even as the cum was dripping between your cheeks.

You were about to sit up and get cleaned when you felt Eddie grab your ass cheeks and stick his tongue on your tight hole to lap up his mess.

“Holy shit,” you take in a sharp breath no one has ever touched you there before. You liked it.

Once he was finished, you rolled over to look at Eddie for the first time after everything the two of you had just done. Feeling dirty and a bit self-conscious, you let out a giggle. A bashful look crossed your face before you, and you looked away as soon as the two of you made eye contact.

“I hope that wasn’t too much.” He brushed the hair from your face behind your ear.

“No, I liked it,” you whispered.

“Next time someone asks who was the last person who made you cum you can say your knight in shining armour, Eddie Munson” He winked.

“Shut up!” You giggle.

You sat up, trying to find your discarded clothing, when you peered at his watch.

“Shit, it’s already twenty after eleven, we need to get back to the cabins! You rushed up gathering your clothing.

—

On your way back to the cabins, Eddie reached out for your hand. In some odd way, that felt more intimate, considering where they were minutes prior.

“So you going to tell me about that tattoo?” He wiggled his eyebrows

I laughed, “Um, not much to tell? I got a fake I.D. and went and got it with Ashley. She has a matching one.” At that moment, you thought Eddied eyes were about to pop out of his head.

“In the same place?” He questioned.

“Yep.” You nod.

“Oh, what I would give to see that.”

“There are many things we’ve done together you would pay for.” You stifle a giggle. Trying not to laugh at the innuendo.

“Go on..” his brows raised.

You thought about telling him, but did I want to break the innocent girl allusion fully? Or drag it on?

“Hmm, I don’t know if you can handle it?” You teased.

“Come on, I need to know now; you can’t just say something like that!”

“Fine, but only because you earned it… you cannot tell Ashley, you know, but how do you think I got so good at kissing?” You winked.

Eddie dropped to his knees. His dramatics never failed to make you laugh.

“Come on, get up. We can’t get caught.” You pulled him up and you continued to walked back to the cabins.

When you returned, the lights were on, so you knew the girls were waiting up for you.

“So… this is me,” you say stupidly.

“So it is…” Eddie looked around awkwardly.

“Um, goodnight.” Would he kiss you? would this just be a one-night stand?

Your thoughts were cut off by Eddie’s lips back on yours. You sink into the kiss as his lips moulded into you. You let out a soft moan and he pulls away.

“You can’t do that to me, princess, or else I’m going to pick you up and take you back to that cabin.” He sighed.

“I’m sorry,”

“So I know we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere at work, but can I take you out on a date sometime?”

“I would love that,” you smiled.

You reached on your tip toes to give him one last kiss before slipping back into the cabin.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whispered.

“Oooo goodnight Eddie,” you can hear Robin mocking you from the other side. You roll your eyes and hear Eddie laughing.

“Goodnight ladies.” He gives you a wink before you shut the door.

You turned around and waited a good ten seconds before you could hear Eddie enter his cabin before you let yourself squeal while jumping up and down. The girl’s reactions were priceless.

“Tell us everything!” Nancy clapped with excitement.

“I don’t even know where to begin.” You flopped onto your bed with a sigh.

“That good huh?’ Clover giggled.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.” You laughed.

“Details now! but not too many details.” Robin sat down in front of the bed like you were about to read a bedtime story.

“Well, I can definitely say he’s the best I’ve ever had.” You fanned yourself with your hand.

“Did he make you cum?” Robin flat-out asked.

“Ooh, definitely,” you laughed, still on your post-orgasm high.

“Bitch! How big? Tell me when to stop.” Clover was moving her hands father and father apart. I waited as she slowly brought her hands to create a gap that was about 9 inches.

“Stop!” I said once she got there.

“Shut up, no way!” Nancy gasped.

“We saw him in that bathing suit. There is no way he is hiding all that!” Robin laughed.

“Trust me, girls, it’s big,” I sighed.

You decide to get up and get ready for bed when you hear a gasp.

“Oh my god, what is he a vampire?! He ate your neck!” Robin’s eyes were wide as you took off your hoodie.

You ran to the bathroom mirror to check out the damage.

“Holly shit! What am I going to do?!”

It was bad. Three large hickeys covered your neck, and there were more on your chest that would one hundred percent show when you put on any of your bathing suits.

The girls came up behind you to observe for themselves in the bathroom mirror.

“I’ll grab some spoons and ice!” Clover shouted.

Five minutes later, she returned with some ice and spoons in a bag.

You tried to eliminate the bruising for twenty minutes, but it seemed useless.

“Maybe we can do face painting tomorrow, and no one will see?” Robin suggested.

“I don’t think that will work, Birdie, face painting is the day after tomorrow.” Nancy sighed.

“Guess I’ll have to wear them with pride,” you nervously laughed.

You know the guys will not let you live this down until they see you tomorrow morning.

—

“Goodnight, gentlemen.” Eddie was floating on could nine as he strolled into his cabin.

“Where the fuck were you, dude? You owe us big time covering for you!” Ash got out of his bunk.

“Shit, sorry, man, thank you.”

As Eddie sits down, all the guys can hear is muffled squealing from your cabin.

“The hell was that?” Steve’s head shoots up from his bunk.

“They probably saw a spider or some shit.” Billy huffed and rolled over.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at himself because he knew the true meaning behind the excitement.

“Dude, so where were you? Ashton asked.

"I will not kiss and tell.” Eddie kicked off his boots and got up to find his pyjama pants.

“Yea right” Billy snorts.

“Dude! Holy shit, who did that to you?” Eddie heard Steve speak as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his naked torso.

“What do you mean?” Eddie laughed.

“Dude, did she attack you?” Ashton's eyes bulged out of his head at the bruising you had caused, attracting the attention of the other two bunkmates.

“Quit checking me out, man,” Eddie laughed.

“Dude! Who did you get with?” Billy asked excitedly.

“I’m not telling,” Eddie smiled as he walked to the bathroom and shut the door.

He could hear their muffled guesses while brushing his teeth, shaking his head at their guesses.

“Bambi, it was 100% her!” Ashton was fighting with Billy.

“No way, man, it was Sarah!” Billy was in such denial.

“Bicker all you want. I’m not telling,” Eddie chuckled as he exited the bathroom.

“Fine, we will just see who else has some early hickeys in the morning.” Steve winked and climbed back into his bunk.

Shit, you’re going to kill him… well worth it.

Next chapter

Tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @impmunson @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @guineveresghost @ezzynf @oneforthemunny @brxkenartt @ktiutsa @sofiaadela

[simpjaes]

hon what abt hee/hoon/jay/jake/whoever u want reactions to u actually reach ur limit and say ur safe word during the very steamy and animalistic fuck

hyung line + reaching your limit and saying the safe word

warnings: dub con(ish), use of color coded safe words, rough sex, double penetration/anal, instances of bruises being visible on your skin, jake loses his damn mind, choking, squirting/mentions of piss, attempts at fisting and being sunghoon's size queen lmfao

not proof read

★ heeseung:

he would be so deep inside of you, plunging in faster and deeper than you ever thought possible based on your previous intimate moments with him.

nothing seems to have happened to render Heeseung so...into it tonight. Calling you up and practically demanding you be at his door within ten minutes or he's never going to talk to you again. You could tell he was looking at you through tunnel vision when you showed up with a concerned look on your face.

you felt like something was wrong originally, but when his hands immediately pulled you inside and practically tore your pants off of you, you figured he must've just been really, really, horny. So horny that he doesn't even get your shirt off of you before sliding in dry, whispering words that slicken you right up along with the painful intrusion.

he doesn't even get you out of the entrance either. your back is pressed to his chest as he holds you there, taking everything he can get before wrapping his arms around your neck and squeezing. You pull back against him, allowing him to maneuver you to the kitchen just to the side, and there, he doesn't release his grip.

you're tapping his arms, trying to breathe, scream, moan, and whimper all at the same time. he's lost his damn mind, you think.

and when he does finally release his arms around your neck, you want to moan, but instead, you say it. the one word he never expected to hear from you.

"red."

you felt three more powerful thrusts as you said the word, slapping your hand over your mouth because...did you really even want to say it at all?

and then he buries himself into you as deep as he can and leans forward, grabbing your hair and pulling you back so that his lips line up with your ear.

"what did you just say?"

and his hips would be still, all of his movement would come to a halt waiting for you to answer him. waiting for you to confirm the color he thinks he just heard, though it was hard to hear because his ears were ringing due to the sheer adrenaline he has right now.

"red. heeseung." you repeat, out of breath.

Only then does he calm his breathing, still remaining deep inside of you before that little switch in his head flips.

"did I hurt you?" He asks, voice raspy and concerned as he tunes in to his surroundings, noting how he just grabbed you and started using you as if you aren't a living being.

But then you shake your head, skewing your face half into his view with a smirk.

"No, i'd just like to know what's gotten into you."

ah, only you would stop mid-fucking for a goddamn conversation.

☆ jay:

jay always wants to try new things and you're always more than willing to indulge him in it. Hence why safe words have been a pretty common occurrence in your bedroom. rarely yet have you ever had to use even a yellow, better yet a red.

jay always commits green light acts on you, to the point you almost question if he could ever receive a red at all.

tonight tests that limit. the new thing he wants to try involves not only his cock, but a lovely silicone one he secretly bought on his way home. and what does he plan to do this both of these cocks?

use them on you. at the same time.

and, well, while you were actually quite excited to get your chance to try double penetration with your doting boyfriend, he seemed to have missed the look of concern on your face regarding the size of the toy compared to the size of him.

jay is already big. thick enough to make you feel as though the fit is tight regardless of how wet you get for him. this toy though? it's at least an inch longer, at least an inch thicker.

so, yes. you let the dreaded color slip just seconds after jay slides into you after much prep. at the moment, it doesn't feel like any amount of prep could have prepared you for the feeling of two rather large cocks sitting inside of you. The toy is prodded deep in your pussy, skewed only slightly by jay's strong hand as he holds it there with your legs gripping around his waist for dear life. And he is bottomed out into your ass, squeezing his eyes shut briefly himself at the grip and suffocating feeling of your body clenching around both him and the toy.

"relax baby," he whispers out, skewing the toy up just a bit before slipping it down and out of you for a brief instance of relief. "you're squeezing me so hard."

and you do try to relax, the moment where the toy leaves your body does allow a bit of relief to you until, well, he slides it back into you in one push, mumbling a groan at the feeling of it.

"red," you choke out, your body nearly forcing him and the toy out of you from the instinctual clenching.

Jay goes full-stop in that moment, not only slipping the toy back out of you but also making an attempt to slide himself out without causing any more discomfort but then...your legs squeeze him tighter, pushing him right back into place.

"just give me a bit to adjust--" you choke out again, "it's a lot to get used to."

★ jake:

when jake gets in those moods, you know it's near impossible to reach him through actions, better yet through words. he can get quite desperate, which normally isn't too much of an issue because you're the one needing to take control.

on a rare night though, jake wont give in and just...goes. anytime previous to this where you've had to use a safe word involved jake in this type of mindset.

what mindset is it without consistently needing to just say the word desperate? a state where he loses all ability to control just how hard or fast his hips move. some would call it being pussy drunk, though jake's version of it is far more insane than most. like a dog with a bone, he has his mind set on one thing, and that's his pleasure.

you knew it was going to be like this tonight, watching the way his apologies for going too hard and not yet stopping turn into forceful grips and thrusts of his cock into you. it felt like you were being, quite literally, impaled. A wince here, a wince there, and now? Consistent pain with his angled hips, ramming into you repeatedly with no apology in the air.

your loving, sweet, pretty-eyed boyfriend is so fucking gone, and at this point he hasn't quite comprehended or even processed you saying the safe word three times already.

The first time you said it was when he gripped one of your tits to the point it hurt, still ramming into you with a painful spike of pleasure. The second time was when his eyes went dull, and all apologies were left sitting in his sober mind, and then the third time, just now, you had to make an attempt to overpower your lustful boyfriend, gripping his hair as tightly as you can to pull him down to you.

"red."

you saw his eyes flicker in realization at the word, but he kept going upon feeling you clench around him. another thrust, and then another, and then-

"Jake, you're hurting me." You say this time, holding back any moan of pleasure simply because if he hears it, he genuinely may believe you're joking about the pain.

and really, it's not that you don't love when he gets like this. he always gives it to you good, but you can tell he's losing it and he's going to crash after he's done with you. hell, you're going to crash if the lightheaded fuzz in your head is anything to go by.

upon hearing those words from you though, his hips stop immediately and he returns back to himself. the apologies come back, the drool on his chin gets wiped by the back of his hand through insistent and genuine apologies.

he pulls out quickly, only then recognizing the welts and bursts of color against your skin from his fingertips alone.

and when he looks at your face with a drowsy smile but eyes full of concern, he can only apologize again. feeling sorry for himself in that moment and fighting back the frustration of losing an approaching orgasm, he does stop. and he doesn't get off that night solely because you cannot convince him that it's okay. that you're okay.

☆ sunghoon:

safe words are very common in the bedroom, though rarely used because both of you have a deep level of trust and commitment in your relationship. it's to the point that even when you do feel like you need to say the word, more often than not you're too busy trusting him to make the pain and discomfort worth it.

and, well, he always does.

there was the time where he nearly choked you out, allowing you to feel your first orgasm with near to no breath, to the point of almost passing out. sure, that would be considered a red for most people, but you knew sunghoon would never hurt you nor literally fucking kill you. there was another time where he really, really, really, wanted to try and get you to squirt. which, you know, that's great for you!!! aside from the fact that all day he had you drinking water bottle after water bottle, barring the bathroom from you until he knew you were ready to burst. the only reason you would have given him a red would be because your bladder was hurting by the time he started ramming into you, and mayyyybe because he didn't put a towel down and surely you were about to piss yourself for his pleasure. ultimately though, that pressure paired with the feeling of being stuffed even more full led you to an orgasm that you still think about to this day. today though, sunghoon is really on something. lately, he's been making comments. "size queen" this, "size queen" that. it appears your boyfriend is now seemingly fucking obsessed with seeing how much you can fit into your cunt. or, rather, how much he can fit into you. there was plenty of prep of course. His cock always a pleasure, and then his cock plus a few of his fingers, and then-- oh. just his fingers??? then-- knuckles. you feel knuckles.

"Woah, woah-" You pause at the feeling of being stretched, Sunghoon not stopping as you glance down at the way he is entirely focused on fitting his whole goddamn hand inside of you. "Sunghoon, red. red!" He stills his hand, leaving it in place and feeling your internal walls bunch his fingers up inside of you. Still, he can't push the knuckles past your hole and honestly, he's a bit shocked to hear the color code come out of you in a panic.

"Red?" He asks for confirmation, already preparing to pull his hand back and take care of you in a different way when you clench again.

"Red." You confirm, wiggling your hips away from him, forcing him to pull out of you.

"Was it too much?" He asks now, carefully crawling over you to plant a kiss to the tip of your nose. "I just wanted to see if it would fit." You nod, embarrassed by the fact that he was really close to making it fit. Unfortunately, it didn't quite feel good for you to have something so large inching inside of you so quickly. He was eager, you could tell, but just as apologetic.

"I think, maybe if you want to try this, we need to use more lube, and maybe buy some toys to train me into it."

"Train you into it?" He repeats your words, eyes darkening in an instant. You smile at his expression, seeing his new obsession run freely in his mind at the implication that maybe someday you can take more than just his fist without seeing red.

[pearlsinmyhair]

⭑ oops.

hobie just wanted to drop in, he didn’t mean to see this. but your pretty face is just so precious… is this dark content? voyeurism warning. mutual masturbation. fem!reader. nsfw.

this wasn’t supposed to happen, hobie thought as he leaned against the outer wall beside your open window.

he had come to show you some music, an underground artist that he had discovered at a live stage event. he had leapt webbed to your apartment with purpose, excited to see his favorite girl.

he didn’t expect the view he had before him now to greet him when he dropped onto your fire escape.

not that he was exactly complaining.

you lay on your bed, legs spread wide and head thrown back as you drove your middle finger into your sopping wet pussy, wiggling it before pulling it out to circle your clit, then back again.

hobie felt like he couldn’t breath. he felt like he was gonna fucking explode just at the sight of you, so pretty in your baby tee and nothing else.

you mewled as the pad of your finger caught your clit just right, and hobie’s lower stomach twinged with electricity.

he was fucking disgusting, he thought as slid his hand down his front to the buckle of his belt, clicking it open and unzipping his fly.

but your beautiful face, brows pushed together and eyes screwed shut pathetically, was just too much.

and your body was turned just right so he could see that aching cunt, dripping with juices that spread across your heat and your inner thighs.

he watched as your finger returned to your entrance, mumbling a soft “fuck” at the sound of the squelch that came from it. his thumb slid across the tip of his dick, gathering the precum already leaking from it and spreading it down.

you knees hiked up, your hips lifting to get deeper, and he realized just why you were so damn frustrated.

you, poor little thing, couldn’t find your g-spot.

god, he was fucking throbbing.

he bit back a loud moan when you sucked on your pointer finger, adding it to your middle to fuck yourself with two, stretching and curling and thrusting as your back arched and your hips bucked.

he matched the pace of your fingers, speeding up his hand on his dick as his own hips leapt forward into his fist.

“just a bit more, baby. curl ‘em a bit more.” he mumbled, watching your fingers plunge deeper and deeper into that sopping cunt.

and almost as if you had heard him, your fingers curled just slightly.

your back arched sharply, a choked moan bursting from your pretty mouth.

he could have cum right there, but he squeezed the base of his cock to keep his release at bay. he didn’t care how perverted it was; he wanted to cum with you.

your fingers sped up, and your little gasps turned into full moans of “fuck” and “oh please” and “faster.”

and hobie couldn’t keep his words to himself either, moaning “there you go” and “atta girl, just like that” and “fucking hell baby” as quietly as he could manage.

all he could think about was replacing your fingers with his, thumbing your clit while stroking your gspot easily while you moaned, rocking your hips into him.

he could tell you were getting close by the way you kept lifting your hips to your hand and wiggling your body. he watched as you looped an arm around the back of one knee, bringing it up to your chest to get a new angle.

you cried out loudly, at that point rocking your body with each thrust of your fingers, and hobie tightened his grip, trying to imagine being buried inside of you, having you moan like that under him, letting him make you feel so fucking good that you screamed.

“oh fuck” you whined, tossing your head back against your pillow. “fuck, hobie-“

he slapped a hand over his mouth as he came, just fast enough to contain the groan that tried to escape him as his orgasm washed over him, his eyes closed with euphoria.

after a minute, his lids opened to find you too coming down from your high, chest heaving as you tightened around your fingers.

he watched as you pulled them out, you pussy making a wet sound as strings of cum stretched, snapping as you pulled your hand to the side and rested it on your bed. your eyes closed, and your thighs quivered every few seconds.

he sighed, looking away from you and resting his head back onto the brick wall.

with his hand full of his release and his knees shaking, he realized that maybe his little crush on you wasn’t quite so little after all.

masterlists.

[hitomisuzuya]

electro archon scara breeds u cus I'm mentally ill!!!!!!!!! also what instruments do you see scara playinf????

- ⚡ anon if that hasn't been taken

Electro!Archon Scaramouche x fem!reader. Begging. Vision play (Electro vision Scara) Overstimulation. Degradation. Begging. Breeding kink. God complex. Ego stroking. Bondage. Fingersucking.

Don't worry, we both completely sane. Electro Archon Scaramouche breeding me...yes please. You just know that God complex is going to be off the charts. He deserves to be an Archon! And🥺 I see Scara being able to play the piano, the violin, and the guitar.

Your wrists were tied above your head, you were straddling Scaramouche, grinding needily down against his cock, his fingers pumping in and out of your mouth. His other hand was busy stimulating your clit with Electro.

You were starting to whimper and mewl, choking happily on his fingers whenever he felt like it. Scaramouche loved how desperate you were rapidly starting to look. He has something of a twisted, smug smirk on his face.

You were starting to get overstimulated. That's what he wanted. Now he could order you to start begging for him. The more overstimulated you were, the louder you begged and cried for him.

Scaramouche pinched your clit before smacking a hand across your ass. "Well, get started, slut. Tell your God how much you want to be fucked and bred. Depending on how well you beg, I may consider letting you cum with these," He pushed his fingers into your throat again before pulling them out of your mouth.

He considered being cruel and taking his hands off of you completely, but your cunt just felt too wet on his cock to keep his hands off of you. They found your hips, guiding your pace while you grinded needily on his cock.

Your walls were starting to clamp around nothing, making you whimper. He brought your chest to his mouth so he could flick Electro onto your nipple with his tongue, making your back arc in pleasure. "I can't hear you," He purred, curling his tongue around your nipples to suck on.

"My Lord Archon! My God! Please fuck me! Breed me! My only purpose to is to serve as your cock sleeve and worship you!" You pleaded, struggling against the Inazuma silk bindings tying your wrists together above your head trying to feel the head of his leaking cock against your entrance.

Scaramouche curled his fingers underneath your chin, his eyes dark with lust. "Good girl," He purred, swirling his tongue around your nipple before kissing you. His teeth bite at your lips. "Now tell me how much you want me. Sing my praises, whore."

You were more than happy to oblige him. You licked at his mouth submissively, making him groan in bliss. The more you showed submissive worship, the harder his cock throbbed for you.

"I want you, my Lord Scaramouche," Archons, he loved it when you called him Lord. "Nobody can fuck me this good. I live to worship you, you deserve it. Nobody is more powerful than you. And because I--" He held his breath, waiting for what you were going to say next.

You kissed him, open mouthed and passionate. "Because I love you," Scaramouche moaned in bliss the second the words came spilling out of your pretty mouth. Squeezing your hips possessively, he lifted you and lowered you down onto his cock all at once, making you scream with pleasure.

Scaramouche nearly cummed on the spot from how tightly your cunt clenched around his cock. "What a good girl, a pathetic whore.." He groaned, sending jolts of Electro buzzing against your clit while he rubbed it, making you bounce eagerly on his cock.

The way he pushed his cock deep into your cervix conveyed one thing, to fuck you senseless and breed you full. He wanted to see cum leaking from your cunt, a buldge poke up in your stomach from how deep was inside of you.

Scaramouche licked his lips in anticipation, pushing this thumb around the buldge when he saw it. "Cum inside of me, Scara! Please!" You cried out between loud whimpers and moans of pleasure. "Fuck me until I can't hold anymore of your cum! Fuck me dumb!"

Your whole body shook when your orgasm washed over you suddenly, the intensity making your fingernails dig into your palms.

The feeling of your release gushing out onto his cock brought Scaramouche to his own orgasm. Holding you into his lap, he slammed his cock up inside of you, feverishly fucking you down onto his cock. "What a slut, cumming without permission from your Lord," He hissed, hovering a hand over your throat.

You tilted your head, showing your throat to him in further submission. His fingers prodded at your throat, smirking when your walls clamped around his cock.

He tore the silk, freeing your wrists. Pushing you down onto the bed, he pinned them above your head, pulling out of you just to slam back inside of you. "I hope you capable of crying louder this time, kitten. I'm not finished with you yet."

[hysteria-things]

SINFUL DESIRES (part two)

read part one here

read part three here

read part four here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: of course the two of you still “hate” each other. although, it’s not just the sex. you both know that.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, p in v, spanking, praising, possessiveness, hair pulling, video, pet names (pretty)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 661

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ask for part two and you shall receive part two!

i’m a lover for nathan. that is all.

jerset part ib jersey by @worldlxvlys :)

the spring breeze hits you, making your hair flow in the wind. your best friend dragged you to a lacrosse game, where you know who plays. she knows you hate him, but she always says that you need to ‘live the high school experience.’

right now, your best friend’s mouth hangs open with utter shock. the game hasn’t started yet, so this seemed like the right time to spill the beans. “you’re telling me that nate — the person you despise — showed up at your house two weeks ago and fucked the shit out of you?”

“yup.” you exhale. “i couldn’t look at my parents for a week. told them i was watching porn and it accidentally connected to my speaker, but i don’t think they believed me.”

“holy shit.” she laughs.

you stand up from the bleachers, shoving your hands in your pockets. “i’m going to the snack stand before they come out. you want anything?”

she shakes her head. “no thanks.”

you step down the bleachers and head to the snack stand. the line isn’t long, thank goodness.

as you approach, a hand grabs your forearm and pulls you to the side. you startle at the contact.

nate’s grinning in front of you, all geared up and ready to play. “nate, what the hell?!” you scream, looking up and down his body.

your eyes start at where his eyeblack is, then to his jersey with the number 8 on it, and lastly to his cleats.

ah, shit.

“hi.” he waves in your face.

you roll your eyes. this kid.

he starts to fidget with your hoodie strings. this is the most confused you probably ever been in your life. “you coming over tonight?” he asks.

you stare blankly at him waiting for more information, but of course, he doesn’t give any. “for what?”

he shrugs. “to hang out.”

“fu-uck!” you moan as nate rails into you from behind, your ass red from the few times he spanked it. the remains of your last orgasm still make a mess on your thighs.

he has you bent over his desk, his hands bunching up the bottom of his jersey that he put on you.

somerville won the game, and according to him, this was his reward. you are his reward.

his eyes are focused on the DOE right above his jersey number. you’re wearing his name, and he’s making sure you know it.

you’re on your tippy toes, each thrust making you quiver with pleasure. your nails claw at the wood beneath you.

“jesus,” he whispers, grabbing his phone so he can record what you look like with his name on. he’s so fucking fascinated by it.

he grips onto your hair. “you look so beautiful getting fucked in my jersey, don’t you think?”

“mhm,” you grumble, your eyes threatening to cross.

he grips tighter, giving you a little spank. “use your words, pretty.”

“y-yes. i—” you’re cut off by a whimper when his tip hits that familiar spot inside of you. “gonna c-cum, nate.”

you squeeze around him as your pussy squelches, threatening to spew your liquid. he groans. “clenching around me so tight.”

you scream when he starts to go faster, hitting inside you deeper than before. your whole body trembles when you spread your cum around his dick. “there you go… that’s it.”

he shoots into the condom short after you, pulling out and throwing it in the trash can that’s set on the floor next to the desk. he places his phone back down.

he turns you around and leans in, kissing you passionately on the lips. he hums before pulling away. “i hate how much i like you.”

you smirk, but the blush on your cheeks gives you away. “i hate how much i like you, too.”

later that night while you’re in bed, you get a text message. you gasp when you open it.

nate.

[attachment: 1 video]

just a reminder

sweet dreams, pretty

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[weird-an]

Harrington left a mark on his chest and it aches sweetly. Billy's skin tingles.

He stretches himself, all worn out and so exhausted he stops thinking about what's happening at Cherry Lane and that home is so far away it's something people only ever seen on television and postcards.

"Billy," Harrington is next to him, skin pressed against his. "Let's get burgers."

Harrington is as lonely as Billy. Always wants him to spend the night, wants to share his pizza, offered with huge brown eyes Billy can't say no to. Has a stupid big dick Billy can't get enough of, knows how balance kisses and bites and makes it hard for Billy not so scream his name.

Billy hates him, because it gets harder to leave every day. He hates him, because Harrington is the only good thing about Hawkins. Because Harrington will get bored eventually, will throw him away, because at the end of the day he's just a rich kid getting all the toys he wants.

"Cheeseburger with bacon," Billy still says, because Harrington is the worst drug he's ever been addicted to. "You're buyin'."

He lights himself a cigarette to distract himself from the beam on Harrington's face.

They sit in the living room, Billy in a bathrobe that says "Harrington Senior", because Harrington gets a kick out of fucking him in it. Another thing Billy tries not to like - behind polo shirts and expensive cologne Harrington is just as fucked up as Billy.

Daddy issues can't get fixed with money, Billy knows that. He prefers alcohol and fights to tell everybody that's where he got the scars from.

He's chewing on his burger when Harrington goes for the kill.

"Do you wanna be my boyfriend?" he asks, like he has any idea what that means. Like he has thought about it for a while.

Billy swallows slowly. "You don't want that, Harrington."

He rubs the red bite mark on his pec, because it's like Harrington's teeth are still there.

"I do." Harrington is used to get what he wants. "I really like you."

It hurts more than it should have.

"You know I like to suck dick." Billy snorts. "You don't know me."

Nobody knows Billy, not here. Harrington likes to look him in the eyes during sex, but Billy always squeezes them shut.

Harrington tilts his head. "I know you like to swim, you like to read but you always hide it, you don't like locked doors, you love to eat burritos, you're always up so early and watch the sun rise. I know you pretend to hate Max, but you'd always protect her."

It's like Harrington is stripping him naked, like he knew it be like that and came prepared, like he puts a fucking thought into it.

"I don't read," Billy says weakly. The room is fucking blurred and all he can see is Harrington's face, tenderness written all over it.

"Liar," Harrington whispers.

"I don't like you, Harrington." Billy's heart is in his throat.

"Liar." Harrington’s hand is on his.

Billy blinks the tears away. Men don't cry is what his old man taught him with a belt and his fists.

Harrington always gets what he wants.

"I'm not your girlfriend or shit. No one can ever know - or we're fucking dead." Billy can't look at him.

"I know." Harrington presses a kiss on his cheek. "Boyfriends."

Something in Billy uncurls and he feels like he drank half a bottle of whiskey.

"Boyfriends," Billy mumbles. It's scary. It's the best thing about this god damn town.

[lilmashae]

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤perverted!roommate — y.jw

cw: part two of pervert!jungwon, here's part one. pervert!roommate jungwon, 1/4 spice, 3/4 smut (18+)

genre: smut (18+)

[READ]: i'm SO sorry this took so long, but please enjoy it! hopefully it lives up to what you all were expecting :)

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : ꔫ : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

"can i fuck you?" jungwon looks at you as you stand up, removing your shirt. "you really are a pervert..." you sigh and he places his hands on your waist. one of them firmly laying splayed onto your tummy and traveling up to squeeze one of your boobs. "is that a yes?" he asks and you nod, "yes, jungwon..."

you lean into his lips and kiss him before sinking onto his lap — the way his bulge nudges your clit drives you insane. a soft gasp escapes jungwon's lips as you slowly-grind against him, his head buried in your (bare) chest. jungwon's hands hold on to your hips/waist tight — his fingers dig into your skin. "how's that 'wonnie?" you hum, still riding him over his clothes. "s'good... fuck! s'really, really good..." you wrap them around his neck and pull him in for another deep kiss, his tongues hot and wet — he sloppily kisses you, trailing down your neck and latching onto one of your nipples. "o-oh... shit."

your arms prop up on his shoulders and your hands are entangled in his hair. jungwon nips and prods at your nipple. his thumb swirling around the other one. you throw your head back in pleasure, a silent moan escaping your lips in a gasp. "jungwon, do it now." your voice is frantic, "fuck me, now." a string of spit and a pop! echo in the room as he pulls away from your boobs. "m'kay..." and with that he suddenly picks you up and lays you on your back — hovering over you with his knee pressed against your heat. jungwon smashes his lips onto yours, your hands search for the hem of his shirt as you pull it over his head. you run a hand from his chest down to his sweatpants, palming at his bulge. his brows knit together feeling you on his bare skin while you reach to pull out his cock. "s'so big, 'wonnie. 'want it inside s'bad." he chuckles before playing with the hem of your panties, "you sound so desperate, y/n... it looks like you're the perverted one now.."

and he places another hot kiss on your lips, rubbing down your body. soon, he's met face to face with your cunt and he kisses you over your panties, yanking them to the side. "shit, y/n, you're so wet," he drags a finger up your folds before pushing one in, his thumb circling your clit. "ah! jungwon, please..." "you have such a pretty pussy, y/n." another finger slips into your sopping heat. "fuck," the way he repeatedly mutters your name drives you insane — his fingers thrust in and out of you at a rhythmic pace." "'s'such a tight little hole, yeah? i wonder if you'll be able to take it?" "yes, yes! please, i can. i promise!" and to think a few seconds ago, he was the one under you. jungwon's fingers retract out of you fully. it leaves you with an empty feeling as you pout and writhe under him.

not for long though, the empty feeling is soon replaced by a much fuller one, heavy too. "fuck!" you could practically feel him splitting you in half on his cock, one thrust after another. jungwon rutted into you, what started off slow and sweet soon turned into rough, deep, hard strokes. one's that had your back arching off of his bed and screaming his name. "f-fuck, fuck, fuck! please, 'wonnie, s'feels so good!" you squeal beneath him. he's moaning too — whimpering and gasping, throwing his head down and huffing. "you're so fucking tight, 'love it when you squeeze me like that... s'close princess, 'gonna cum f'me?" and you just nod, impatiently waiting for the knot in your stomach to unravel. " 'want it inside, fuck! ah, cum inside, please.." "shit..." the two of your lips connect one more time in a messy kiss before you both cum.

"you're still a pervert." you huff, jungwon giggles before turning to you. "yeah, but you said all that stuff. maybe you're just like me." he smiles and you place another kiss on his lips. "whatever, pervert."

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : ꔫ : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

no notes today, thank you, my love! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training V (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

Your own screams were what woke you up…or maybe it was Peter trying to get you to stop screaming. The light from the lamp flooded the room, and you frantically looked around, trying to remember where you were. The last thing you remembered seeing before you woke up was blood. It was everywhere and all over you, but it was gone, now, and you were in the room with Peter.

Your face was wet with tears, and Peter reached out to wipe them away while his other hand gently rubbed your arm. He was gently shushing you, pulling you close, and you were still so focused on the memories that haunted your sleep that you didn’t even care. His hand trailed to the back of your head as your forehead grazed his shoulder.

“You’re okay,” he whispered.

You weren’t okay.

“You’re safe…”

You weren’t though.

You were held captive in a house full of men living out their trad wife fantasy, one of which who wouldn’t hesitate to toss you down into the basement over the smallest of things. You were expected to be okay with everything happening, to just accept it and even smile in the face of it…like Jane. You thought about the way she’d smile at Thor, and you cried harder.

You didn’t want to be like Jane and find happiness here or some kind of contentment. You didn’t want to be in a place where you smiled at your captor and welcomed him with open arms. However…you didn’t want to be like Margaret either. You didn’t want to be fucked for all to see as some kind of punishment, and you didn’t want to be like Natasha, spending months down there in the dark. You didn’t want to be here, at all.

“What happened to them?” you mumbled, and Peter hummed in confusion.

You sniffed, and he tightened his arms around you.

“My friends…”

You felt Peter tense for half a second before he exhaled.

“I don’t know,” he said, making you frown. “I… I didn’t hurt them. My responsibility was you.”

Fresh tears spilled over at that, and you were torn between asking him so many questions and wanting to know as little as possible. Why you? Why were you his responsibility? Why did they have to kill your friends? Just…why?

“I’m not the one who killed them, so I…I don’t know.”

Peter sounded sad, regretful, and it only made you cry more. Peter didn’t kill them, but did that really make him so much better? No, but you couldn’t find the strength to pull away from him. You almost wanted to ask him why his friends had. Why had they cut their lives short so seamlessly? You were afraid of the answer to be honest. You were afraid to hear how little their lives mattered to them when they were everything to you.

You slowly blinked before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Kill me.”

You whispered it so softly that you were sure Peter didn’t hear you at first. Even if he did, the words had to have thrown him because he sat up, pulling back some and lifting your head.

“What?”

“Kill me,” you begged, looking at him with a pleading gaze. “I can’t do this, and I don’t have it in me to… I can’t.”

Peter shifted, making you completely face him, now as he shushed you. You’d started crying again, chest tightening, and Peter shushed you, gently shaking you.

“Hey, no-.”

“I can’t do this,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “I can’t…”

You trailed off, descending into a fit of harsh sobs. Horrible choking sounds escaped you while Peter tried to calm you down. Your fingers pressed into his arms as you pushed your face into his shoulder, begging him to kill you.

“I’m not going to do that,” he whispered into your hair. “I went through so much trouble to get you.”

You shook at the sound of his voice, a shudder traveling down your spine as he ran a finger over it. He rocked you, denying you what you asked him for, and you shuddered again when a finger traced patterns into your skin where your sleeve had slipped down. You felt him lean down some more, lips grazing your ear.

“From the first moment I saw you,” he breathed. “I knew I wanted to keep you…”

You heard him deeply inhale.

“…all to myself.”

You shook your head, but Peter only made a noise of disapproval.

“It’s a lot, I know. I know that,” he softly told you, rubbing your back. “…but we’re going to be so happy together. You’ll see.”

You didn’t understand why Peter wouldn’t just…kill you. Or at the very least, have one of the others do it. It seemed to come second nature to them, anyway. They could put you out of your misery, and then… Your thoughts trailed off, halting altogether, and you didn’t like that feeling in your chest.

With you gone, that just meant that someone else would eventually take your place. The thought of some other innocent soul going through what you were made your heart hurt. Especially since your friends had died in the process, so senselessly, and if you died too… It would just make their deaths even more pointless.

More tears escaped, and Peter continued to rock you in his arms.

“The food looks wonderful, ladies.”

Steve’s voice reached your ears as you stared down at the dinner you’d helped prepare. After your embarrassing display that particular morning, it was agreed upon that you needed more time to slowly adjust. You were back in the kitchen for the first time today, and for the first time ever, you were sitting with everyone for dinner.

Sitting with the…family.

“Thank you, Steve.”

You jumped a bit as all the other women around the table thanked him in unison. You looked around in a mixture of wonder and fear, observing everyone else, hyperaware of your own shortcomings and newness. You were paranoid over screwing something up again. So focused on that, you almost missed Steve’s voice as he told everyone to bow their heads for grace.

You hadn’t come from the most religious of households, and you flinched when Jane reached for your hand on your left. You let her take it, looking at Peter with wide eyes when he did the same to your right. He sent you a secretive smile, reassurance on his face as he threaded his fingers through yours.

It was odd.

As Steve sat there saying grace, you wondered to yourself how he could do such a thing while also doing everything else he’d done. He’d murdered Pietro without hesitation, and who knows what he’d done with the rest of your friends. He’d kidnapped you and made it so that all of these other women could be kidnapped too. Hell, if you left the table this very second, you didn’t doubt that he’d throw you in the basement.

…and yet…with all of that being said…

He was sitting here…saying grace.

Peter didn’t let your hand go right away when Steve was done, bringing the back of it up to his lips. You looked at him when he did, dropping it as he sent you what was probably meant to be a comforting smile, reaching up to rub your back. You knew that Peter was just trying to make you feel comfortable, help ease you into everything, but it only made you want to cry.

You hated the way the conversation seemed to flow around you like this was a normal family having a normal family dinner talking about normal things instead of what it actually was. You looked down at your plate, grimacing at the green beans. You’d mentioned to Jane that you didn’t like them, but she’d sadly told you that you would have to learn to like them.

Steve didn’t exactly have any grace for a picky palate.

“Y/N made it.”

You looked over at the sound of your name, a smile on Pepper’s face as she looked at Steve. Your eyes met his, and you flinched, looking down just as he hummed.

“Is that so?” he sounded surprised. “Where’d you learn the recipe?”

He was talking about the fish. Pepper had evenly told you that Steve wanted to see more from you, and despite the smile on her lips, you could see the nervousness in her eyes. It wasn’t exactly a request, and so you’d prepared the fish in one of the ways your mom always had.

You blinked at his question, feeling eyes on you, and without meaning to, you turned to look at Peter. The brunette smiled at you, gently touching your arm and softly telling you that it was okay, nodding towards Steve.

“My mom taught me,” you eventually told the blond.

The atmosphere seemed to change at that, and you got the feeling that you weren’t supposed to mention anything about your life outside of whatever this was. At least, not out in the open. Steve cleared his throat at that, throwing you a tense smile, and you noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well, she did a wonderful job,” he finally complimented.

There was a silence that followed in which Steve just…stared at you, and it wasn’t until Peter touched your arm again did you realize why.

“Thank you…Steve.”

He seemed pleased to hear that, going back to his food and the conversation started up around you again. You ate what you could, eyeing the green beans, and occasionally your eyes met Steve’s. It was like he knew you didn’t like them, and he was watching to see what you’d do. Your chest tightened, and you felt so…suffocated.

…but also isolated.

You watched, thinking to yourself how the other women had seemed to build relationships with one another that you had yet to. You knew it was probably done out of a combination of survival, a way to make things easier, and finding comfort with others in the same nightmare, but still. Even though you felt comfortable with Jane, that was as far as it went. You didn’t feel a kindred spirit with any of them, and how could you? To allow yourself to do so would be to accept your permanent place here, and you just couldn’t do that.

Not yet.

You glanced over, eyes catching familiar green ones as you and Natasha just…stared at each other. It was hard to make sense of the beautiful redhead sometimes. She was very cold, intimidating, and you couldn’t help but to feel so inferior around her. You watched Bucky say something to her, and you watched the way she turned and smiled at him.

It wasn’t a forced one, that much you could tell, and it seemed like she did find some contentment in her situation with him, but the fire in her eyes was also as clear as day. Natasha seemed like the kind of woman who would never be fully broken, and you looked down.

Your brows knitted together as your eyes landed on your plate.

Your green beans were gone, and you warily glanced up, noting that Steve’s attention was occupied with Sam. You’d finally been formally introduced to the man who’d helped kill your friends, Sharon’s husband, and you swallowed. Everyone else seemed to be pulled into conversation too, and when you looked over, your eyes met Peter’s.

He sent you a wink, and when you looked down, you noticed he had way more green beans than he’d originally had. You blinked at the sight before looking away. Steve hadn’t noticed, and you didn’t know how to feel about the gesture. Any small act of kindness just wasn’t enough to make up for your situation. It would never be enough.

…and yet, you couldn’t fight the relief you felt as you sat back and finished the rest of your food.

When it came time for bed, you found yourself staring at the window as Peter slipped in behind you. What was originally just one night of sleeping next to Peter had turned into another and then a few and then several before you knew it. The comfort of the bed had outweighed your fear that pushed you to sleep on the floor.

Peter had yet to force it to come crawling back, and you almost scoffed at the thought that despite his involvement in everything, you could at least appreciate him not forcing himself on you. Your nightmares were becoming more frequent, and you hated to admit how helpful Peter’s presence was. The same man who had caused them to begin with.

Sleep kept evading you for several reasons as you stared at the window. You were afraid of what would greet you when you finally closed your eyes, and you felt your throat tighten. Tears kissed your eyes before you knew it, and it was hard to keep your sobs in.

After some time, you both felt and heard Peter shift, moving over the sheets as he came closer. You didn’t react when his hand touched your shoulder, and you heard him sigh.

“You need to sleep…”

You knew he was right. God forbid you should be anything less than alert while Steve was around, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. Peter sighed again, moving closer before wrapping his arm around you. You felt him press his face into your neck, shushing you.

“It’s okay,” he quietly assured you. “I’ll be right here.”

You stared at the window through a tearful gaze.

“You can sleep, and whatever happens, I’ll be right here.”

You bit your lip.

“Just like I have been for every other night…”

You could feel his breathing against your back, chest rising and falling evenly, and eventually, yours followed suit.

“That’s it,” Peter whispered. “Just breathe…”

You clung to his arm, torn between fighting sleep and accepting it. At some point, the latter won.

“Good morning.”

The voice startled you, not expecting it, and so you didn’t reply when the other women in the kitchen did.

“Good morning, Peter.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, and you blinked at the sight of him in his uniform. It brought you back to the first day you’d met him, and you swallowed. You got the feeling that it was unusual for one of the men to be so present in the kitchen because Margaret and Sharon gave Peter odd looks as he approached you.

“I don’t leave for another half hour or so,” he said, settling next to you. “I wanted to check on you. See how you’re doing…”

You were making biscuits at the request of Margaret, and that was what you told him.

“I’m not very good at it,” you mumbled.

You’d messed up one batch already. Peter chuckled at your words, reaching up to play with an errant hair, moving closer.

“We all have to start somewhere,” he told you, reaching for your hands.

You watched him do better than you had been, eyes focused on the way he maneuvered your hands. They were gentle on yours, and you could feel his breath on your ear as he helped you. it was hard to discern how his presence made you feel, but it was clear it made the other two uncomfortable even if only for the unfamiliarity of it.

“Peter, we can handle this,” Margaret told him, her voice sweet. “You shouldn’t be in here, dirtying your uniform.”

You could tell by her tone that Margaret was more concerned with messing up the clear order Steve had for everyone in the house, but as Peter turned to smile at her, it was clear he didn’t care.

“I’ll be fine.”

There was a finality in his tone that she picked up on, giving him a tense smile before returning to the eggs she was cooking. Neither of them said anything else as Peter continued to help you, quietly talking to you.

“The more you practice, the better you’ll get,” he whispered, and you nodded. “Pretty soon, you’ll be running laps around this kitchen.”

That didn’t reassure you. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be good at this and become a good housewife and impress anyone with your culinary skills. You wanted to get out.

“Peter.”

You tensed at the voice, and you knew Peter noticed by the way his hand fell to your waist. You both looked over your shoulders, and you shrank in on yourself at the sight of Steve in his own uniform, leaning in the doorway. Where Peter’s uniform made him look childish in nature, Steve’s made him even scarier if that was possible.

“Since when do we cook?”

Steve’s tone was mocking, but there was an underlying edge in his voice, and as you both turned around, you found yourself partially hiding behind Peter. The blond definitely noticed, blue eyes focused on you, and you didn’t miss the way they lowered to the sight of your hand reaching for the back of Peter’s shirt.

Peter chuckled, reaching back and taking your hand.

“I just wanted to spend some time with her before we had to leave. That’s all,” he said with a shrug.

You couldn’t tell how Steve felt about that answer, it was hard to guess, and you found your hand tightening in Peter’s the longer Steve stared at you. Eventually, the blond pushed himself away from the wall with a low hum, leaving the four of you with just that.

Peter sighed, and you got the feeling that would be a whole thing later.

“I better go,” he said, letting go of your hand, and you frowned at how vulnerable you suddenly felt.

You watched him leave, worrying your lip before eventually turning around and finishing the biscuits the same way Peter had.

With Steve gone, you felt more relieved, but knowing that Peter also wasn’t in the house, you felt…out of place. You helped Nat and Christine, Stephen’s wife, with laundry, but you didn’t say much. The same went for when you were helping Pepper in the greenhouse. You were too caught up in your thoughts, and you were sure that it was noticeable.

You sometimes wondered if the other women thought you were crazy. Especially after the incident that morning, but then you wondered if they themselves had exhibited similar behaviors. After all, every single one of you were victims, and while they had all seemed to long adjust to the situation, you were still grappling with your new reality.

You didn’t know how to behave around anyone or what to say, and more often than not, you just wanted to cry. Strangely enough, you only felt comfortable doing that in front of Peter, and maybe that was why when Steve returned home from the station without the brunette, something like disappointment filled you.

You’d wanted to ask Steve where he was but thought better of it. Even still, it was like he read your mind at the dinner table, telling you that Peter had some cases and paperwork to go over, so he’d be coming home late. You hadn’t responded, merely nodding, and you didn’t miss the way Steve eyed you, studying your face.

You forced yourself to finish your food, giving an answer or two here and there when Jane tried to talk to you. She was the one to walk you to your room, letting you in and locking the door behind you. It was still somewhat flattering that any of them thought you had it in you to escape or at the very least, try. After your unsuccessful attempt, something in you told you to stop kidding yourself.

Even if you ever did manage to, where would you go? How would you go about getting out of this town? Getting back to your mom? The cops that ran this town were the same ones down the hall in the house where you were held captive.

Sleep was even more difficult to find, and you tossed and turned, the occasional wave of tears spilling over. You both wanted and didn’t want to sleep. At least with Peter here, you were confident you’d have someone around to calm you down and get you back to sleep after the nightmares, but now you were alone.

Your heart wouldn’t steady, and you reached up, tugging at your hair as tears kissed your eyes. You laid on your side and stared at the window, bringing your knees up to your chest. Alone with just your thoughts, they started going to a place they hadn’t been since that morning in the kitchen. It was almost like you could see the faces of your friends in the window, and you sat up.

You paced around the room for what felt like hours, rubbing your neck and pulling at your hair. You hoped that anyone downstairs couldn’t hear your footsteps, and your forced deep breathing wasn’t doing anything. The sound of a vehicle had you slowing down, and you looked over your shoulder at the window. You slowly approached it, only able to see car lights shining from the front yard.

It couldn’t be anyone else but Peter, and your eyes burned from how tired they were. When you eventually heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, you neared the door, and you couldn’t stop yourself from crouching down. At the sight of feet slowing in front of the door, you hurriedly straightened just as it was unlocked and opened.

Peter looked surprised at the sight of you, and then he frowned.

“Why are you still up?”

You didn’t know how to voice the problem.

You couldn’t sleep, and while that wasn’t new, you still somehow eventually found sleep. However, that was when Peter was here, and you didn’t know how to voice that. You didn’t even know how to put into words that with him gone, sleep and the right amount of comfort to relax eluded you completely. You were afraid.

You were afraid that you’d have another nightmare, and no one would be there when you woke up.

“Couldn’t sleep,” was all you said, and Peter closed the door behind him.

You couldn’t name the way he looked at you, but he eventually sighed, reaching out to touch your chin.

“Okay,” he said. “Let me get out of this uniform, and I’ll be right there.”

You slowly sat on the bed, watching him go into the bathroom. You sat like that for minutes, still and watching the door, and when he finally came back out, you stood. You said nothing as Peter pulled the covers back, watching you climb in, and after he tucked you in, you watched him do the same, a weight easing off your chest that you didn’t want to acknowledge.

[s-brant]

Little Dragon

In a the aftermath of a fight sparked by the feud between him and her brother, Lucerys, Aemond and his wife are now trying to fix things between them. (or judas part three)

10k (18+)

Warnings: smut, p in v, rough sex, knife play, choking, spitting in mouth, strong language, yandere (so basically canon) aemond, and some of the language used to describe past sex acts could be interpreted as dub-con, but everything is consensual.

-

Married life is not what she thought it would be.

Everyone told her their days would be spent in honeymoon-induced bliss that seems as though it will never end for the first year or so of marriage, but that wasn't their experience at all. When they weren't fucking, which was about all they did together, Aemond and Y/N were typically fighting for the first four months of being wed to one another. There were good moments, though. They bonded over shared interests that appeared the longer they lived in close proximity, and he began to open himself up to her little by little. It wasn't nearly as much as she wanted, but he still offered her more than he did most other people.

It was evident in the little things, such as how he would feel comfortable enough to take off his eyepatch at certain times when alone in her presence or how he would always, no matter how far apart they were when they fell asleep in his spacious bed, end up with an arm around her by the time they woke. But, then, there were the times when the wall between them would come down again and she was left wondering if her husband would ever speak freely in her presence.

As of late, it seems they are leaning more on the side of fighting rather than fucking.

Her temper has been running hotter than usual, so when she heard of an incident in the training yard between Aemond and Lucerys, who is visiting alongside Rhaenyra after a close call with Viserys' health that thankfully ended without complication, she was out for blood.

"Have you no shame, husband?" she asked as she walked after him, chasing and herding him in the direction of their shared chambers after having to watch her brother be tended to by the maesters. "I asked you to not harm him, and you ignored me at the first opportunity presented to you!"

This led to a screaming match that ended in him storming off to fly on Vhagar for the better half of the night before coming back to their chambers—soaking wet from the rain—ripping the sheets off of her, hiking her shift up around her waist, and fucking her until she was babbling and incoherent for him. It was a vicious fight masked by the actions of lust and passion. Her nails broke skin open on his pale back while his hand squeezed down around her delicate throat, providing her a heady little head rush that made the pleasure of his cock gliding in and out of her intensify.

The rainwater dripped off of him and onto her, turning the mattress damp beneath their writhing bodies. Not that either of them minded. By the time they finished, she was on the verge of passing out again and didn't do much other than sigh as he lifted her into his arms to move her around before setting her back down on the bed. Come morning, she found herself alone, but the bed was not cold or damp. Her side of the mattress was covered with a warm fur hide that had been draped atop the divan, and she couldn't help but smile to herself at that before she remembered their argument.

Aemond was never a cruel husband. If anything, he was the opposite. Their arguments did not mean he mistreated his lady. Yes, they would fight and fuck like animals, but, at the end of the day, she was his. In a world where he was granted nothing, not even a dragon's egg in the cradle as his siblings were, the Maiden had blessed him with her. Every other girl or woman balked in his presence, but not Y/N. She and Vhagar were the only things he ever had to himself, and he would never mistreat either of his dragons.

Hence, the fur hide.

As angry with each other as they were and, he knew, would continue to be on the morrow, his face softened when he came back from the bathing room to find her curled up in fetal position and shivering in her sleep from the wet sheets. She hardly stirred as he lifted her up, one arm under her bent knees and the other holding firm around her naked back, and walked over to the divan to fetch the warm fur hide. It took little effort for him to hold her as he picked it up and spread it out atop the bed, then set her down. It took him searching the room to find another blanket to cover her with, but, once he did, he sighed to himself at the sight of her and tried to resist the urge to reach down to brush her hair out of her face. What had she done to him?

He had little trouble falling asleep on the damp sheets and left early before she woke to avoid the consequences of the things they said to each other the previous night.

Since this morning, they haven't crossed paths much at all. For she was spending what little time she had left of their visit with her mother and brother, trying to conceal the turmoil within her caused by her marriage and, well...

"Are you certain, mother?" Y/N asked. "It is so soon, and I have only missed one of my courses thus far. It was just last month's, I am certain it will come again soon. I always feel sick to my stomach before my blood comes, and I have felt that way for days."

What she didn't want to tell her mother was that she already knew. Deep down, she knew the answer, yet she was too stubborn in their ongoing argument to want to admit to herself. Or him.

Rhaenyra smiled softly at her from where she braided her hair for her, something she would continue to insist on doing for her only daughter no matter how old she grew, and said, "Feeling sick to your stomach is an indication that you may be with child as well. Considering that you told me you missed one of your courses and you winced when Lucerys hugged you too hard upon our arrival"—It was true. When Luc threw his arms around her in a tight embrace, she couldn't help but grimace at the tenderness she felt in her breasts upon impact against him. And, the previous night, with Aemond, her nipples were uncharacteristically sensitive whenever he made contact with them, though she did not say that to her mother—"I do not think it out of the realm of possibility, my love...You should tell Aemond what you suspect."

Having told the handmaidens to leave them to their own devices, they did not have to bother with concealing their conversation from eavesdroppers by speaking in Valyrian. They simply sat together and spoke openly, and honestly, and Y/N was glad for it. It was the type of open communication she found difficult with Aemond due to his closed-off nature. It wasn't for lack of trying, either. She knew he tried as much as she did, but they both have too sensitive of tempers to get very far with civil discussion. Once they misunderstand one another's intentions, they lose control and allow emotion to guide them, not logic. Then, the truly hurtful things are said in the heat of the moment that neither of them means.

Since leaving her mother's rooms, she has wandered around the keep aimlessly to avoid the argument that will reignite once she sees Aemond again. So, she goes to the one place she knew she could flee to to clear her head. The Weirwood tree she once had a tendency to read under.

Yet when she finally sits down and settles into place with her back against the thick trunk, all she can think of is her husband. Although infuriated with him for the training yard incident in which he injured Lucerys, she cannot help but imagine what it would be like. She pictures him with a tiny, newly-born babe in his arms and feels her knees weaken at the thought. Then, her mind conjures images of their child a few years down the line, resting their head on his shoulder with their silver hair falling down his back to blend in with his. He may be perceived as an unfeeling man by most, but she knows he will be a decent father. A better one than her grandsire was to him, she's sure.

As fond as she is of him in the safety of her mind, hearing his voice out of the silence causes her to turn still.

"I thought I might find you here."

There's a brief moment of hesitation before she lifts her gaze to find his eye fixed on her quite intensely. After last night, she cannot blame him. They were two seconds from brawling one another in their chambers before he walked away to blow off steam by flying Vhagar late into the night, and what happened after he returned wasn't much less aggressive than the argument they engaged in hours prior. It did little to solve anything other than stifle their remaining anger.

"You were not there when I woke," she says without greeting him.

The unforgiving tone she takes with him tells him everything he needs to know. Despite their passionate, near-feral fucking last night, she has yet to forgive him for "accidentally" injuring Lucerys. Perhaps he made a mistake. Perhaps he shouldn't have taunted the younger man as they practiced in the training yard together, nor should he have let his retort turn him blind with anger, but it's too late to change that now. All he can do is try to navigate the rough tides of her temper in the aftermath, still shocked that he even cares. Never once would he have thought that he'd be so willing to bend himself to the will of his lady wife when he first spoke of betrothals with his mother years ago.

He doesn't dare to step any closer to her, though. Instead, he holds his hands behind his back and tilts his head as he looks down upon her face in the buttery daylight, fighting the admiration felt in the center of his chest at the sight of her silver hair glowing in the sun. Although he's trying to get back in her good graces, he still refrains from surrendering all of himself to her in order to do so. Sometimes it scares him; the urge he has to allow her to render him pathetic and subservient.

It confused him this morning when he fled to find his mother and sister breaking their fast together. Luckily for him, Helaena was leaving at the very moment he entered, leaving him alone with his mother in the privacy of her secluded rooms.

He paced back and forth in front of where she sat at the table, too distracted by his neurotic movements and ranting to indulge in her poached egg.

"You did not prepare me for this, mother," he said, not with any malice or anger, but honesty. When it came to his mother, he could never find it in himself to be anything but gentle with her. "She is driving me to madness."

A frown crossed Queen Alicent's face at this.

"You know I wanted to betroth you to one of the Baratheon daughters. Y/N may not be a good match for you, but it's far too late for a change of—"

He didn't even need to say a word. No, she was silenced by the look cast in her direction. His features hardened into a mask of impenetrable force and threat as if daring her, his own mother, to finish that sentence before he remembered himself and averted his gaze to the ground. Still, it was too late. She saw everything he fought to keep hidden beneath the surface every time he was in public in the presence of his wife.

"Oh," she said softly.

This wasn't something she thought she had to prepare him for, but he was right. She hadn't properly prepared him for it. Considering her own experiences with marriage, as well as most other royals and aristocrats who wed people for power or alliance, the thought never crossed her mind. But based on the look on his face and the embarrassment that now shows in his flushed cheeks, it should have.

"Aemond," Alicent said, her voice a quiet push of air before speaking up a bit more clearly to ask him, "Do you mean to tell me that you truly love her? Is that what this is about?"

The lack of response and refusal to make eye contact with her spoke every word he refused to say aloud. He simply stared off at the ground as if in amazement, wondering to himself how he ended up there. Although part of it felt wrong, wrong in the sense that he swore to never let his guard down around anyone, least of all the sister of the bastard that maimed him, there was so much of it that felt right. Though he would never have spoken of such crass things in the presence of his mother, he kept thinking back to the previous night—to how every touch, every thrust, every kiss felt so inherently right that he couldn't imagine himself wanting to galavant the Street of Silk as his older brother had. No, he wanted her. He wanted her in a way that consumed him, in a way that scared him, and it crept up on him slowly but surely in the months following the wedding ceremonies.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, "We do nothing but argue and...perform our marital duties to produce an heir...yet I find"—The words eluded him at first. Never having spoken about his emotions out loud to many people in his life, he found it difficult to articulate, but to get the advice he sought, he had to—"I cannot bear the thought of her being angry with me."

Those were the types of thoughts that chased him on his aimless stroll, ignoring every member of court who attempted to greet the sullen prince with a wary smile or pleasant few words. They chased him all the way here, to where he walked unconsciously and found the object of his incessant infatuation sitting beneath the tree.

Snapping himself out of the haze of his memories, Aemond straightens his shoulders and offers as explanation, "I left because I did not wish to fight with you again. I needed time to think." He shrugs. "I took a walk."

This silences her for a moment. But it's just that, a moment, before she's summoning the nerve to retort back at him with a snarky tone, "And what did this time to think do for you? Have you realized how much shame you've brought me as a result of your actions yesterday?" Her face then softens, as does her voice. "Everyone saw. It's all that the servants are talking about. Everyone either pities me or thinks I am weak for marrying someone who hurts my own kin."

Although his raging temper and unrelenting pride urge him to say something equally as aggressive back, he wills himself to remain silent and mindful of every word that may leave his mouth. The self-control it takes to restrain himself is immeasurable, but all he hears when he closes his eyes are the words of advice his mother gave earlier.

"I don't blame you for holding a grudge against Lucerys," she said, "but, she is your wife. If she asked you not to harm her brother, the honorable thing to do would be to listen."

His body stiffened at this. At the thought of letting anyone or anything tell him what he can and cannot do, but when he voiced such concerns, he was shut down.

"A wife is meant to obey her husband, yes, but if what you've come here to tell me is true, you must treat your marriage differently." Her eyes never once left him, nor did the intensity in them recede. "In order to receive obedience and respect, you must be willing to give it. Love is a fickle thing, Aemond. If you do not nurture it, it will become resentment."

There's a beat of silence between him and Y/N, then—

"I came here to tell you it will not happen again. I swear this to you."

That was the last thing she expected to hear. Not technically an apology, but, she supposes it's the closest she's ever gotten to one from him. Most of their fights end in them making up after sex or from the healing touch of time gone by. This is a first for them. They're both typically too stubborn to admit defeat, yet here he is.

Her brows furrow at him as if in confusion.

"You will not make any attempts to harm my brother again? Either of my brothers, for that matter."

He nods. Just once.

"Unless he makes the first move, I will not touch him," Aemond says slowly, hating every second of it but forcing himself to proceed for the sake of following his mother's advice. More importantly, for the sake of preventing any resentment from growing between them. "Or Jacaerys. You have my word."

And even though it's the outcome she longed for the whole time, she can't help but feel infuriated with him. How dare he be so...kind. How dare he give her a reason to genuinely admire him in favor of using their near-constant disagreements as reason to keep him at a comfortable distance? She never wanted to account for the fact that he may be more to her than a tolerated presence. She never wanted him to hold such power over her, and still...

Y/N takes in a deep breath, the low-cut neckline of her dress accentuating the rise and fall of her breasts, and looks up at him. What she finds in his gaze is pure honesty.

"Well, good." She chews at the inside of her lip for a second, unsure of how to proceed in light of these unforeseen circumstances. "Thank you for your understanding. I won't forget this kindness."

With that, he turns to leave, assuming she'd like to be left alone after everything they said and did to one another last night. He takes all of three steps before he's halted by the sound of her voice.

"Where are you going?"

He slowly turns back around to face her again and takes note of the hopeful glint in her eyes that he's never seen before. Strange...

"Do you not wish me to leave?"

No, she thinks, I do not wish you to leave. I wish to spend all day and night with you. If I could live beneath your skin, I would.

The obsessive nature of her thoughts startles her a little, but she tries not to judge herself too harshly. After all, she just got confirmation from the maesters after breakfast that she is, in fact, with child as Rhaenyra suspected, and the fluctuation of hormones tends to cause heightened emotions, so it makes sense. Not to mention, there's an added layer of intimacy that makes her feel closer to him now that she knows. A part of him lives within her. It's not something she takes lightly despite her initial trepidation surrounding the idea of childbirth in the weeks after their wedding ceremonies.

Y/N takes her time in responding, allowing herself the opportunity to stand from where she rested on the thick root of the Weirwood tree. Her palms flatten against the back of her dress to dust the dirt off, and it isn't until she's done so that she looks up at him again.

"I did not say that," she says matter of factly. "I was curious what you're doing today because I want to spend time with you. That is unless you have prior commitments to attend to..."

The speed with which he utters, "I don't," verges on the type of embarrassment severe enough to make him flee and hide, but he doesn't. He instead focuses on the fact that she actually wants to be around him after the fight they had, far too preoccupied to think about how pathetic it is that all he has to do today is mope around the Red Keep over her. Although they've had passion and fondness for one another in the months that have passed since they married, this is the first time he's ever felt truly wanted by her in a way other than that of carnal desire.

He prays the overwhelming relief hasn't reached his face by the time he elaborates, "I was only going to see Vhagar. She gets quite restless when she hasn't seen me, so I make a point to visit her every day even if we do not fly." There's a dip of silence. His face softens. "Come see her with me, then. I realize you two haven't been properly introduced."

The only times she got relatively close to Vhagar were when flying beneath her on Vermithor and when she and Aemond arrived at the keep at the same time those months ago before their betrothal. Unfortunately, she hadn't been lucky enough to know Vhagar's last rider, Laena Velaryon. Her father was wed to her, yes, but she never once met Daemon until her funeral at Driftmark, and that very night was when Aemond claimed the ancient war dragon for himself. So, in her eyes, Vhagar has always been intrinsically entwined with her husband.

She smiles at him, saying softly, "Okay."

The journey to the place outside the palace walls where Vhagar rests, too big for being kept inside the dragon pit as the other dragons are, is not too strenuous. Aemond made sure to show her the quicker route to the unoccupied land where they once held Queen Aemma's funeral rather than taking her through the streets of King's Landing, preventing her from being exposed to the indecent things that occur in plain daylight. Not that she hasn't done such things with him before, but for the people of the city to see their future queen anywhere near that type of behavior is not ideal.

The earth is soft beneath her feet as she hikes up the rolling hills with her hand grasped in Aemond's. His hold on her is strong, never allowing a chance for her to trip and fall or slip out of his clutches now that he so clearly has her full attention. A gentle wind blows strands of hair back from her face to cool her amidst the typically sweltering summer air. Back in the city, it's hotter due to the palace walls and droves of people, but, here, it's open and free. It's no wonder that Vhagar prefers to reside out where she can roam as opposed to the confined field outside the Dragonpit where she can hardly fit.

She hears her before she sees her, but once they come up over the crest of the hill, it isn't long before she sees the great beast lounging on the grass in the valley between the rolling hills. A Dragonpit of her own making, Y/N supposes. The closer they get to her, the more enchanted she becomes with the creature. Out of the corner of his remaining eye, Aemond notes the look of awe on her face as they come to a stop roughly ten feet away.

"Nyke maghatan ñuha ābrazȳrys kesīr naejot rhaenagon ao," he says loudly to be heard by her over the sounds of the wind and sea not far off from where they stand. I brought my wife here to meet you. "Sagon sȳz naejot zirȳla." Be kind to her.

The elderly dragon huffs out a sharp breath that Y/N can feel the warmth of reaching her face despite the decent space between them. Apparently, that's her cue, because Aemond is now looking at her expectantly and egging her on, daring her to do what no one else would. No one but them. It's part of what thrills him about their marriage. This is why Targaryen weds Targaryen, he thinks to himself. How else would they share this simple pleasure if she weren't also the blood of the dragon? Vhagar would tolerate her presence, sure, but not in the way she does with those of her own kind.

Having tamed the Bronze Fury herself and knowing her husband's dragon will obey his commands to be kind to her, she takes a few steps forward until she's close enough to reach her hand out and allow her to smell it. The scaled creature's nostrils flare out to inhale and catalog her rider's wife for the first time, but she's surprised at what she finds lingering in the scent. There's a bit of him in there. To her, his scent is the most alluring, the most comfortable since she's been claimed by him, so when she notices his scent clinging to Y/N's, her head tilts a little to get closer.

She sees a certain understanding in the beast's eyes despite the fact that they've never been properly introduced until now. Vhagar looks upon her with a reverence no one but Aemond and her previous riders have received. Your womb shelters a little dragon. You carry him inside of you.

Vhagar dips her head down and nudges her nose against the princess's belly, which, as of right now, is not showing any obvious sign of her delicate condition. This action doesn't seem to stick out to Aemond—thank the Gods—it seems to surprise him. To see his two dragons coexisting and displaying affection for one another is a magical thing, and it's something he will never forget. Not even when he's old and frail and can no longer patrol the skies on her.

The sweet gesture brings a chuckle out of Y/N's throat.

"Iksā sepār iā dōna riña, issi ao daor?" she says, reaching up to rub along the massive bridge of her nose. You are just a sweet girl, are you not? "Issa sȳz naejot rhaenagon ao, Vhagar. Ñuha valzȳrys ēza ivestretan nyke sīr olvie nūmāzma ao." It is good to meet you, Vhagar. My husband has told me so much about you.

Though Y/N cannot see it, Aemond smiles slightly behind her. He tries to fight it, but it's impossible. His lips curl up into a grin against his will at the sight of his wife and his dragon cozying up together much like a mother and child. And though Vhagar is old enough to be a grandmother many times over, she, for reasons Y/N has yet to reveal to him, decides to play the role of the child in this instance.

Before he can wipe the smile from his face, she turns to look at him with her eyes widened in wonder.

"She's beautiful." She then turns back to face her. "Iksā gevie, dōna riña." You are beautiful, sweet girl.

"Are you ready to ride with us? You must climb up first. I will sit behind you."

This time, when she turns around to look at him, her gaze does not stray.

"Are you jesting?"

He just shakes his head, smug at the sign of her hesitation after trying to present herself as bravely as possible to his beloved beast. Silver hair cascades over her shoulders and shimmers, even under a cloudy sky, enough so that he has a hard time finding words in the wake of his longing for her.

"I do not jest about dragons," he says with a sadistic look in his eye. If he were being honest, he'd admit that he hardly jests about anything, least of all Vhagar. "But if you are craven, then I do not mind escorting you back to the keep."

That shocked expression of hers shifts into one of amusement.

"I claimed Vermithor when I was two and ten years old, the same year you claimed her, when he was a wild dragon living in the mountain caverns on Dragonstone. Does that sound like the actions of someone who is craven?"

He inclines his head in the direction of Vhagar as though to say, "Prove it."

It takes no less than five seconds for her to spin around and march right up to the side of the dragon, grabbing the rungs of the rope ladder slung over her back to allow small beings like them to scale the massive creature. The skirt of her dress blows in the wind enough to expose her legs to him but not to expose her entirely as she climbs, thanking the Gods that she opted for a pair of riding boots instead of the heels she wore with her dress originally. Once she has reached the saddle, she feels the rope ladder jolt with movement far below and swings her leg over to straddle the dragon. And when she looks down, she sees Aemond climbing up after her.

The feeling of his hard, lean body settling into place behind her stirs a sudden pulse of arousal in the pit of her abdomen. This is very new to her—marriage, sex, intimacy. To feel her husband's hands grip her hips to tug her into him, her ass pressing against his crotch without an inch of space to spare, is a welcomed but scandalous thing. Still, it pleases her. Even though she was taught to guard her heart and body fiercely from men growing up, she feels safe with him. Riding on any dragon other than Vermithor or Caraxes would be stressful, hence her hesitation when he asked her to ride with him, but now that she's up here, she is at ease. For nothing can frighten her with Aemond at her side.

His lips brush her ear as he reaches around her waist to put his hands over hers on the handles of the saddle and asks, "Are you ready, my lady?"

She turns to look at him and nods.

"Yes."

The grip of his hands over hers tightens, and he shouts, "Sōvēs!" Fly.

Beneath them, the creature they sit on begins to move, a deep rumble purring in the back of her throat as she moves from her lounging position upon the grass and gets a running start to take off. The flapping of her wings is loud enough to stifle the crashing of the waves against the land, isolating them from everything that surrounds them until all she can hear is her husband's voice giving Vhagar commands in Valyrian. The strength of the arms wrapped around her brings her mind back to memories of last night—his biceps flexing as he pinned her hands above her head and rutted into her, groaning at the feeling of tight cunt clamping down around him.

With another flap of her wings and push off the ground from her sturdy legs, they take off. Wind blows cold against her face where it comes in from the shore they swiftly fly over, and Vhagar swoops down to dip her clawed feet into the ocean water, sending up a spray of water that mists over them. The temperature draws a sharp gasp from Y/N's throat. Water soaks her intricately braided hair and the fabric of her dress, both of which things she spent time picking out only to have them tarnished. But, she thinks as she feels Aemond's body jolting from his laughter behind her, she does not truly care.

She laughs with him after a few seconds of processing the surprise, allowing her head to tip back onto his shoulder with the wind plastering her damp hair to her skin. Aemond's hands have since left hers to use the reins to steer Vhagar, but his arms remain tucked around her waist even as he does so. They turn around to fly back in the direction of the city and soar far higher above the ground than they had the sea. Although he does not usually push Vhagar to fly this way for a quick rush of adrenaline due to his care for the old girl, he does today. He knows better than anyone that a person only gets to have their first ride upon Visenya's dragon once in their lives, so he figures it might as well be as exciting for her as it was for him.

He remembers that moment like it was yesterday. The warmth of the fire curling in the back of her throat when he tried to mount her at first and got off with a warning, the stinging abrasion from gripping the reins and saddle for dear life to keep from falling to his death, and the joy of that freshly made bond between him and Vhagar. It isn't too different from what he feels with Y/N now at the beginning of their marriage. A visceral connection that takes hold deep in his soul and refuses to untether from it.

The view from above King's Landing is beautiful to her. With the waves crashing against the cliffs alongside the Red Keep and the clouds converging not far above their heads, she thinks to herself that it would make a fine painting someday and makes sure to save the image in the back of her mind for it.

It isn't until they feel the first drops of rainfall, accompanied by a booming roll of thunder, that Aemond commands Vhagar to return to the hills where she previously rested. The ground itself trembles with her landing, dirt kicking up from beneath the grass where her clawed feet dig into the earth. Although they are damp from the ocean water that sprayed up on them, the rain that is coming down now is fierce. It could chill them to the bone if they remained up in the sky, and while Aemond does not mind, he surely will not subject his lady to such a thing. It matters not that she rides her own dragon, sometimes in the teeth-chattering cold of rainy skies. She is his wife and shall be treated accordingly.

The two of them are quick to climb down the rope ladder as droplets of rain come down harder and harder as the seconds pass, and the moment her feet hit the ground, they both hurry beneath one of Vhagar's outstretched, membranous wings to take shelter from the storm until they can walk back to the city.

Her hand is grabbing onto Aemond's arm for support, allowing him to swing her around under the shade provided by his dragon's wing, and she smiles so brightly, he's shocked it has yet to blind his other eye. Their bodies collide with a soft thump—his arms around her waist, her hands bracing against them—that leaves them both a little breathless. Her chest rises when his falls in a push and pull like that of the tides they flew over in the long span of seconds that pass while they stare at one another.

It's the internal aftermath of this heated stare that sends them rushing forward into a kiss.

His hands hold her face with a sense of ownership too confident to deny, and she allows his tongue to invade her mouth when she feels him lick at her closed lips as if in request. And the moment is quite easy for her to become lost in. Between him kissing her like that and the adrenaline pumping through her from the ride on dragonback, she almost misses how they move together, feet stumbling to lead them further beneath the cover of Vhagar's massive wing so as to not be seen should anyone venture out here. The implication of this action turns her blood hot with desire.

He doesn't want to be seen—he bites down on her lower lip and takes a breath before coming back for more—he wants me—one of his hands slides around the back of her neck to keep her locked into the messy kiss while the other slides down the front of her dress—he has me. Gods, he has me.

The hand descending the front of her body undoes the clasps of her coat with a deft touch so few men ever accomplish until it comes loose around her torso, leaving her to shimmy it down from her shoulders while he tugs at the sleeves to get them off. His other hand drops to catch it, never missing a beat, and tosses it down on the ground presumably for her to lay upon. As if she cares about a little dirt or rain.

Aemond breaks the kiss by a fraction of an inch to whisper the question into her mouth between panting breaths, "Will you have me?" and it's by far the most restraint he has shown in initiating physical intimacy with her. Last night he had stormed in and fucked her like it was a challenge, like she was something to be conquered and broken and willed into submission. This, however, is a far cry from that. It's almost...gentle. That is if anything he does can be considered gentle.

The unspoken continuation of that question is, Will you have me after last night? After everything? And in answer, she kisses him harder and reaches for the buckle of his belt. It is weighed down by the weight of the fine sword and knife he carries in two sheaths attached on either side, but once she gets him free of it, it troubles her no longer. It simply clatters to the ground beside her discarded coat without another thought given to it.

What happens from here on is hazy to her in the way most distant memories are, but the difference is that she finds it hazy as she experiences it, not due to the passing of time. It's likely a combination of everything she's endured for the past forty-eight hours, the knowledge of her pregnancy weighing down upon her shoulders, and the feral lust felt for Aemond deep within her, but there's something about it that addles her brain similarly to when she drinks a cup of wine.

Somehow, they end up on the ground together with him slotted between the legs she opened so willingly for him and her pinned beneath the weight of his body. Her dress is not cut in half as it was on her wedding night seeing that they have to return to the Red Keep on foot. The skirts are pulled up though, and his lips leave kisses along her cleavage as he ruts his clothed cock against her. Feeling how hard he is, feeling what she alone does to him, brings pulsations of need to her already aching cunt.

That was another thing that surprised her about marriage. How little time it takes for him to arouse her beyond reason. Whenever she pleased herself, she had to work to get herself wet enough to lubricate the movement of her fingers, but he gets it done in a matter of seconds. All he has done is kiss her and shed her coat from her body and here she is.

It takes him a despicable amount of time to undo his trousers and shove them down his legs, so much so that she cannot help but move her hips up against nothing and whine, "Kostilus, valzȳrys." Please, husband.

And, fuck, if he claims that sight isn't what it takes to urge him on quicker through the act of undressing, he's a fool and a liar.

Aemond balances his weight on the forearms pressing onto the ground on either side of her when he finally nudges at her entrance with his tip and, once he feels it slip inside of her, presses his hips forward until they are flush with the back of her thighs. At the same time that he groans, she gasps. The blunt edges of her fingernails dig into his shoulders enough that he can feel it through his clothing. Her jaw goes slack at the indescribable feeling of his cock filling her, buried deep enough that she thinks she can feel him in her belly, and she allows her head to tilt back onto her coat as she looks up into his eyes.

He can hardly keep control of himself when she looks at him like that. There's a part of him that wants to pin her arms above her head and take her the way he had last night, but the softness in her gaze gives him pause. It soothes him. Seeing her look upon his face like that makes him take it slower with her, drawing back and thrusting back in at a relaxed pace that is more of a sensuous grinding than it is outright fucking. It's tender, caring, and much different than any time they've done this in the past. While he isn't always rough with her, he also isn't as sensual and sweet as he is now. No, this is new. Wholly new.

He leans down the rest of the way to kiss her, allowing half the weight of his body to keep her in place now that there's no space left between them. The only time he halts their exploration of each other's mouths is to whisper in a hushed slur of strung together words, "Mmm, taking it so well—"

The praise is punctuated with a hard returning thrust. He felt her walls squeezing around his cock from the sound of his voice alone, and there was little he could do to prevent himself from succumbing to what his cunt-struck excuse for a brain wanted him to do. He is, in every other situation, a man who takes pride in his intelligence and well-nurtured education as a member of the royal family, but all of that is scattered to the winds when he's inside of her. Aegon would tease him mercilessly if he were to ever discover that his brother's sole weakness is, despite Aemond's refusal to discuss the topic with him, his wife's pretty cunt.

Y/N wraps her arms around his shoulders and keeps him trapped in the little prison of her own making as she is being ravished by him. The familiar sensation of pleasure building in the pit of her stomach draws a moan out of her, and he can't help but make it harder and faster. But through the haze of this intense gratification, she sees his face above hers and is reminded of the previous night. When they'd taken their anger out on each other as a result of their fight. As a result of what he did to her sweet brother.

Her features harden at the thought, the soft smile vanishing as she takes thrust after thrust with little gasps that escape without her permission, and she can almost sense the fiery spirit that lives within her—the sleeping dragon—rising from its slumber in response to the anger. Suddenly, she remembers who she is. She is the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon. She is not so easily placated.

The leg that is wrapped around his hip is used to help her flip him onto his back along with the force of her hips pressing up against his and the hands she placed on his shoulders. Her hands remain there for the first moment she spends perched on top of him like this, gripping hard to give her leverage while she begins to ride him. The surprise is evident in his remaining eye, but he does not stop her or make any discomfort known. If anything, he likes it a little too much. To see her like this...

She takes him even deeper than before with this new change in position. Every time her hips come down on his, the broad tip of his cock brushes the sweet spot inside of her and sparks a kind of pleasure far more overwhelming than the kind she gets when he rubs the overly sensitive nub at the top of her folds. He reaches for her hips reflexively once he realizes why she moved him so suddenly, but she shakes her head and pins his arms down by the wrists above his.

In response to this, there's a strange war that is waged in his mind.

Part of him isn't sure what to think, another part wants to take back control and gain the upper hand as any good fighter would, and the other...Well, the other part is the one currently in control. It's the part of him that cannot think about anything save for the sight and feeling of her fucking him, trembling and moaning like a wanton whore. It isn't long before this haze wears off and he begins to come to his senses though. The wrists pinned against the ground push back against the hands holding them captive as though to test her strength, readying to break free in order for him to pull out and flip her over onto her hands and knees.

He can already feel the words on the tip of his tongue, "If you want to behave like a whore, I will treat you like one."

But he doesn't get to say them. Apparently, his wife is already one step ahead of him, and when she witnessed the muscles in his arms flexing in preparation to take back control, she made her move. All he heard was the sound of steel sliding against steel, the knife that he hadn't thought twice of allowing to fall to the ground being ripped from its scabbard, before the sharp tip of the blade is pointed at his throat. One of her hands keeps holding his wrists down even though they both know he could break free if he pleases while the other is wrapped around the hilt of the blade.

He would open his mouth to speak, but he knows he'll get cut if he does, so he just stares up at her with an incredulous expression.

"Swear on your life," she says, moaning before speaking again from the feeling of cock sliding into her. Her breaths are shallow, her chest heaving, as she cants her hips and rides him harder. "Swear you won't hurt them again. If you don't, I shall let this pierce your throat, and we can be finished with this feud."

Her body leans down enough that her chest brushes his with every exchange of air exhaled and inhaled in the limited space between their mouths.

She croons, "Is it not enough they gave me to you? If you are owed a debt"—another moan—"is it not now paid? It is not an eye for an eye but believe me when I say the idea of you defiling me is worse to my dear brother than being maimed."

The stirring sensation within him begins to crescendo as a result of her brutal pace and everything she says. At this point, his brain is no longer in control of him. The ecstasy he feels is too great for him to string together a coherent thought outside of variations of, "She is utterly divine, she is perfect, she is—"

Once again, he finds himself thinking that this is why it had to be her. This is why it had to be someone as wild as him. All it takes to frighten most other women from noble birth is a sharply edged sentence or harsh glare, but she is the type of person to hold a blade to his throat while performing the most intimate act of devotion that exists, and if being driven to that degree of madness by your feelings for a person isn't love, then he doesn't know what love is.

"Did you never think about it?" Based on the look in his eye, he hadn't considered what she just said to him, and it makes her smirk. "Your distaste for him must not run as deep as you claim if you have never taken pleasure in being the one to claim his sister." She laughs quietly. "They all thought you would be cruel, that you'd be a selfish husband who'd use me to warm your bed and nothing else"—his cock twitches in her—"Little do they know, you are the one they should be worried for. No one is near to witness what I may do to you, and here you are. Trapped beneath me with your own knife to your throat and your cock inside me."

Gods help him. Every word she says is fuel to the fire. What a filthy mouth.

At last, she pulls the tip of the knife back an inch or so to allow him to speak without cutting himself, and he never breaks eye contact with her throughout the process. Not once. All it takes is her raising a brow to spur him into speaking the words she wants to hear. And once the words leave his mouth, she knows they are binding. Unlike his older brother, she knows Aemond to be a man of his word, and if he swears something to her, she can trust him.

"I swear," Aemond says, breathless, although his features are set with a harsh rage to counteract the softness in his voice. "I will not hurt them."

They're both interrupted by their own need to suck down breaths of air to compensate for the exertions of their bodies, but he still refuses to look away. He refuses to surrender and let her think she has frightened him despite his willingness to abide by the promise she requested and allow her to think she's the one in control. And now that he's sworn this to her, she taunts him for the fun of it.

"What do you think Sir Criston would say if he saw his best swordsman in such a vulnerable position?" She makes a tsk sound. "I think he would be quite disappointed to see how you let your—"

In a movement strong and swift enough that she cannot process it until it is done, Aemond twists the knife out of her grasp and has her on her back in a matter of seconds. The blade is pressed to her neck, not quite cutting but pressing in just enough for her to feel the threat of it there, and her throat bobs against the sharp side of the blade when he forces her mouth open with his fingers pressing on her soft cheeks.

He says, only warning her once, "Never say another man's name when I am fucking you," and does not hesitate before spitting in her mouth.

The same fingers that pressed on her cheeks to force her mouth open force it shut again, clamping down over her kiss-swollen lips to make her swallow his spit, and once he sees her do so, he tosses the knife aside and devotes his full attention to worshipping her. His lips smear against hers in a sloppy kiss to match the haphazard, pounding strokes he makes into her now that he can feel himself getting close. With every sharp thrust, she cries out and holds tighter onto him to keep him close.

Aemond continually hits that perfect spot within her and never lets up, groaning and trying his hardest not to come before she does. She is close. He can feel it in how her cunt spasms around him, clenching and unclenching in the way it always does before she is sent over the edge. All she needs is a few more thrusts, so he brings his arms down to rest on either side of her head and cages her in so all she can see is him and him alone, forced to look upon his face as she finds her peak.

"Ossēninna mirre vala qilōni māzigon rȳ īlva. Mirre vala ao qogralbar tolie than nyke morghūlilza. Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke," he says in the language of their ancestors because he does not know if he can be so honest in the common tongue. Valyrian provides an added privacy that is a comfort to them both. His voice is a low hum that runs along her skin like a tender caress, and that is all it takes for her to come undone, hearing what he said over and over in her mind. I will kill any man who comes between us. If you fuck anyone else, they will die. You belong to me.

Y/N's jaw falls open in a gape as it hits her, harsh and unforgiving in its brutality but plentiful in its euphoria. The rush is unlike any other climax she has had with him in the past likely due to everything that preceded it. Although she has thoroughly enjoyed every time she's been with him before, this is on a different dimensional scale. Hearing him say that she belongs to him, that he's willing to kill any man who poses a threat to their marriage...to think that she has brought the great Aemond Targaryen to his knees is intoxicating.

The feeling of her cunt clamping down around his cock like a vice brings him to his end much quicker than he anticipated, and he groans as he spills into her.

All he can think to himself is that he is lucky. He is lucky to have a wife that he formed a connection with, lucky to have a wife that makes him feel things he didn't know he could feel. It's difficult to imagine being bound by blood to anyone but her. Whenever he passes by noble married couples, he can't help but feel pity for them. They do not know what it is to love a person with every part of their soul, even the part that hates them.

Aemond and Y/N are panting for air with their foreheads pressed together once they've begun to come down from their respective climaxes, and she cannot do anything but hold onto him as her heart rate begins to slow down again. She can see in the way he looks at her that it was different for him this time too, that he could feel what she felt between them, and to think that it doesn't scare him off...

He collapses onto her chest with a tired sigh and allows her to cradle his head against her, her hand stroking his hair in a soothing pattern that lulls him into a state of peace.

-

The flames burning in the fireplace crackle and surge when the servant tending to them for the night adds another log, then bows her head toward where Aemond sits before exiting their rooms. From the room over, he can hear Y/N humming to herself as she prepares herself for a night of rest. They were both so thoroughly worn out from their prior exertions that they slept together beneath the cover of Vhagar's wing for the better part of an hour before heading back to the Red Keep.

Shockingly, neither of them felt the need to talk about what they experienced this afternoon. There was no overly-emotional profession of feelings or official conversation about what shifted between them, but they both recognized it to themselves. By the time they returned, Queen Alicent had already been looking for them for an hour, and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head at the sight of them walking through the halls together with stifled laughter and rain-soaked clothes.

It was when they reached the staircase she was walking down that Aemond met her gaze and gave her a slight nod. That was all the confirmation she received on the state of her youngest child's marriage before they disappeared to clean off and ready themselves for dinner, which they managed to drag themselves out to share with Alicent and Helaena as per the former's request. And when the queen watched them interact at dinner, she couldn't help but smile to herself as she sipped her wine.

Now, it's late at night, and Y/N is brushing out the long strands of silver hair that cascade down her shoulders. The only item of clothing covering her is a thin chemise, and as she sets the brush down on the table beside her, her eyes are drawn to her stomach. A tentative hand slides down the front of it, keeping the white fabric flat against her body, and rubs the imperceptibly small bump residing there that she blamed on natural weight gain or bloating.

Deep down, she supposes she already knew. She can already pinpoint the time she thinks did it—when he woke her up with his head between her thighs before fucking her right there. It was early in the morning before any servants would come knocking, and she was still half-asleep when he spent his seed in her. As she fell back to sleep with his release dripping from her sensitive cunt, she recalls feeling the large palm of his hand settling over her belly to keep her back pressed to his chest. It was almost as if he knew too.

This morning, she couldn't imagine telling him what the maesters confirmed, but now...

She walks out past the bed to the main area of the room where they spend their time either reading, drinking, or talking before it is time to sleep. Her footfalls are quieter than usual, yet he can still hear her approaching from behind, and when she leans down with her arms wrapping around his shoulders to kiss his cheek, he does not flinch in alarm. All he does is offer a hum of approval, eye fluttering shut in appreciation of his wife's gentle touch.

There's a short pause during which she stands and wrings her hands in front of her where he cannot see, then moves around to the front of the chair and sits on his lap. Her legs are bent over the arm of the chair with her side pressed to his chest and her arm draped over his shoulders.

"Aemond?"

He turns his attention from where it had been fixed on the fire onto her. No verbal response is granted to her, but she knows from months of living alongside him that this is his way of telling her to say whatever it is that's on her mind.

Her next exhale trembles a little.

"Um," she stammers, unsure of how to break the news other than coming right out and saying it. "I went to see the maesters this morning..." Her bottom lip is drawn between her teeth as she tries to summon the courage to say it. "Iksan lēda riña." I am with child.

The typically harsh stare set on her face softens with these few words. Just like that, her nerves dissolve into nothing, and she is left to wonder how she had been so scared to tell him this morning. Of course, his reaction would be a pleasant one. He is nothing if not a duty-driven man. Providing his family with more potential heirs is a cause for celebration, even as a second son. Another way to fulfill his duty with his lawful wife, unlike Aegon who has fathered bastards with common whores and neglected his wife. And now that he has discovered a new side to his relationship with her, the idea of her bearing his children is sentimental in a way he hadn't expected it to be in the past.

Aemond's lips curl into a slight smile, his face leaning forward through the space between them to brush her nose with his. The hand not placed against her back comes down to rest upon the barely-there swell of her belly that serves as the only physical evidence of this good news.

"I know."

Her body still atop his. Seconds later, she tries to move to stand up only to be stopped by his strong arms holding her in place.

"You know?" she asks, face flushed with heat.

The emotion present on her face, he notices, is embarrassment. Whatever for, he does not know, but he's quick to settle her down once he notices. His fingers tuck her hair behind her ear, combing through it the same way hers had done with his when he collapsed onto her after their passionate coupling. A wry chuckle escapes him at her shock.

He says, "Did you think I had not noticed when you missed your blood? We share a bed, ñuha jorrāelagon"—My love. Her heart may have skipped a beat—"I would be stupid if I had not known."

Her mind is sent reeling from this.

She missed her blood at the beginning of the last moon, and she would be due for her next bleeding any day now if she were not with child, so...has he known this whole time? Wait, no. More importantly, he cares enough to make note of things like that? He may have said it as though it was obvious, as though every husband would notice, but he is far different from most of the men in this city. She is willing to bet an absurd sum of coin that her grandsire Viserys never paid such attention to the queen, nor does Aegon to Helaena.

He and his brother have vastly different marriages. For one, Aegon and Helaena live separately. She and Aemond do not. They have only consummated their marriage out of necessity for the sake of continuing the bloodline, meanwhile, she has not needed to take Aemond to bed every night. She simply wanted to. And that is the difference. That is the thing she had yet to realize in her denial of his feelings for her. They were wed for the sake of unifying their families, yes, but it is not a marriage that subsists solely on duty. At least, not anymore.

Y/N looks at him like she does not believe he is real.

"You"—she shakes her head as if to dispel her disorganized thoughts and allow her to speak with clarity—"I did not know you paid attention to me that closely."

He is countering back in a matter of seconds, running the tips of his fingers up and down the length of her back, "Nyke daor dohaeragon nykēla." I cannot help myself.

The crackling of the flames not far from where she is perched atop his lap fills the gaps of silence left between them. It allows her to consider the past day or so with the care she was not capable of in the midst of her anger. It was difficult to navigate, and she feels terrible for her brother, but she thinks it may have been a necessary hardship for them to overcome as husband and wife. The issue of their families would not have been settled with them ignoring it as they used to and pushing aside their feelings for the sake of the marriage. It had to be faced at some point, and now that it has, she feels lighter. The weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

Her hand then drops to rest atop the one he has placed over her belly, and she looks down at their entwined fingers with a tender smile blooming on her face.

"Nyke pendagon se rūs iksis riña," she says. I think the babe is a girl. "Skoros gaomagon ao pendagon, valzȳrys?" What do you think, husband?

-

A/N: let me know what you think :) thanks for reading

Tag List: @m-indkiller, @tinykryptonitewerewolf, @hopebaker, @bcon24, @eleganttravelercloud, @aemond-targaryenx, @the-blue-banshee, @saramayu, @merakiaes, @its-sam-allgood, @grungegrrrl, @singitoutgirl26, @scarlettmoon98, @cicaspair418, @itisjustwhatitis, @cl-0-vr, @d34d-4c1d, @hargrovehoe, @vainillasmil157, @leahjean, @captainweirdo42, @magnificantmermaid, @dark-night-sky-99, @kaicyl, @ladybug0095, @bellaisasleep, @blackravena, @isaxbella749, @reneki, @heylosers06, @izzicle, @bucky-thorin-winchester, @hangmanscoming, @harrypotteranna23-blog, and @shintax-error​.

[onelonelysaiyan]

-----NSFW Under cut!

-Loves to receive oral, but he’s in heaven when he’s between your legs, man eats good 

-Will use one arm to hold your hips in place while his other drapes across your stomach or reaches to play with your tits (if you have them) 

-Could spend literally all day between your legs, it’s almost therapeutic for him.  Coming home to you after a long day, getting to throw you on the bed and bury his head between your legs makes all the stress disappear in an instant 

-SIZE KINK!! I’ve said it before, this man is huge, and he’s certainly proportional too.  Not so big that it hurts a lot but god is it a stretch.  Adores watching you try to take him too quickly, struggling but determined to make him fit.  Loves to loom over you and make you feel small and helpless 

-LOVES when you initiate things.  Despite his bad boy dominant persona, he thinks you taking charge is hot as hell, gets him going in an instant 

-Mess with his wings, he’ll melt.  Play with the feathers at the base of his wings and he’ll be a whining mess in seconds, fuck, he loves it so much 

-Tell him what you want him to do to you, guide his hands where you want them.  Loves to hear you say exactly what you want from him, how badly you need him 

-Praise him, he NEEDS it.  It’s like a drug to him, he’ll do anything just to hear you call him your Good Boy.  Tell him how perfect he is, how handsome and strong he is.  Tell him how well he fills you up, how no one could fuck you the way he does, how you belong to him and only him 

-R I D E  H I M  Do it, push him down on his back and TAKE CONTROL, he will lose it I promise.  Even if he tries to say he’s the dominant one in the relationship, shut him up with a searing kiss he will behave after that 

-Please let him collar you, even if it’s just on occasion.  He loves the power trip it gives him, and he adores that you trust and love him enough to let him, especially if you wear it out in public. He makes sure to get you one that’s really ornate and has a charm on it of his stylized A to match his robes 

-More Sub! Adam!  Call him your handsome boy when you top him, tell him he’s behaving so well for you and that he’s making you feel sooo good~ He’ll whine like a bitch in heat, hands grabbing your hips as he pathetically thrusts up into you 

-I know I said it already but I mean it, praise him. All kinds of praise, it goes straight to his dick. He’s desperate for your approval, and while he’s certain he’s amazing in bed, hearing you say it leaves him in a puddle 

-Call him your sweet boy, your handsome baby boy. He’ll whine about it afterward, but in the moment he lives for it. Tell him that mommy/daddy’s got him, you’ll take good care of him, make him feel so good~ He’ll lose it in the best way possible. Seeing him melt like that is such an experience, it’s sooo worth it I promise! 

-Dom! Adam is rough, but always makes sure you feel loved and cared for 

-Likes to wrap a hand around your throat during missionary, the other holding your leg over his shoulder as he hits that spot deep inside you over and over again.  Pays close attention so he doesn’t hurt you though, you’re his Angel after all! <3  

-Loves doggy style a lot too.  If you’ve got wings or a tail you bet your sweet ass he’s screwing with them, squeezing and tugging, anything to make you whine for him.   

-Is a hair puller, simple as that.  Loves the control it gives him 

-BREEDING KINK!!!!  Mating press is very common for him, loves how deep he can reach and seeing you bent in half like that does things to him.  Makes him wanna fuck a baby into you whether you can have kids or not, he’s honestly so smitten with you <3 

-Wants to hear you scream his name, turn you into a blubbering mess, all whiny and dumb on his cock, unable to think of anything but him 

-Will tell you how well you’re taking him, how pretty you look, all fucked out on his dick. His sweet baby, you can take one more orgasm, right sweetheart~? He promises to fill you up good and full if you do! Just a little bit more~ 

Will write some scenarios eventually, both SFW and NSFW, I love this man so much <3 

[fuckmyskywalker]

🕯️🧺 w anakin? plz? 🥺❤️

Prompt: 🕯️ "You weren’t supposed to hear that.” | 🧺 Stepcest. — Anakin Skywalker.

CW: 18+, smut!. stepcest, dub-con/non-con (reader is drunk and under other substances, they don't explicitly say yes but they don't say no either so). Anakin is quite violent in here, and mean, and a bitch. Dirty talk, Oral sex (m), struggling with feelings, Anakin is an idiot tbh but he is my filthy, pervert idiot. | Word count: 2.9k (...somebody kill me.)

a/n: This is so disgustingly delicious I couldn't help myself, sorry. It was supposed to be a short drabble but ended up being almost 3k of pure filth.

His feet tap the rug of the living room anxiously; Anakin knows he should stay away from all this, lock himself in his bedroom, and jack off before bed. 

But as usual, his thoughts are even more complicated than that, he is caught between a situation that he isn’t sure has a positive outcome or even one for that matter. It’s the same conflict he has been going through ever since his wonderful mother had the great idea to marry your awesome dad who treated her as she deserved and welcomed Anakin as his son. But that wasn’t the problem.

It was you.

Anakin wanted you, so bad it burned his skin and chained his heart to a cold wall of self-restraint. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept repeating to himself every night he heard you in the adjacent room, moaning softly under your own caresses and all he could do was rub his uncomfortable erection to at least ease some of the yearning. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept whispering in the shower, closing his eyes to not see his hands squeezing your bottle of shampoo and consuming his sanity in the sweet scent of strawberry shortcake, relishing in the calmness your characteristic smell brings him. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept saying in the solitude of the obscure living room, waiting for you to come back from whatever fucking party you decided to sneak out that night.

It was easier to mask his desires and sinful lusts for you under a coat of anger. Always snapping at you, yelling, pushing you away. Anakin found that nasty attitude as an effective coping mechanism. For a while. You suddenly stopped talking to him, searching for his friendship or a simple common ground so you two could be in the same room without screaming and throwing insults at each other until either his mother or your father had to step in.

Neither of them tried to interfere unless things got heavily verbal and one time, physical. They both concluded it was only the edge of getting used to this new dynamic. You and Anakin just need more time to grow accustomed to each other’s presence, that’s it. Plus, Shmi didn’t feel entitled to scold you, and your father was never good at dealing with “women’s emotions”.

Deep down, Anakin was feeling guilty, and he, much like your father, wasn't good at dealing with others’ emotions, less alone his. He never tried to apologize either, which perhaps was why he was doing this. Aside from that repetitive statement of “this is wrong”, he tries to swallow his guilt and add to the mix a hint of “this is how I show my worry for her”. Which, if being brutally honest, was a pretty shitty way of doing so. Glancing at the digital clock on the fireplace, his anxious tapping gets stronger, it is almost 3:30 am. He hesitates, should he call you? Would you even pick up the phone? Should he just drop this whole act off and go to bed? Anakin feels too tired to even masturbate, or too angry, it doesn’t matter. The thoughts and “what ifs” begin to drown him, and if there is something that the unstable bastard is, is an overthinker. 

As luck would have it, his head snaps up when he hears the front door click open softly, followed by a muffled giggle. He stands up slowly, careful not to make a single noise. Are you alone? He hopes you are. The idea of seeing you with someone else twists his stomach with jealousy, quickly followed by that familiar wave of guilt. He has no right over you, that is a fact, and yet he forces himself to look over it, using the poor, sick excuse of being your stepbrother to worry about you; Even if his worry is translated into being a bitch, spying your every movement, and fucking his fist to the thought of you. 

He sees you stumbling through the front door, clicking the latch with what appears to be shaky fingers. Anakin remains silent as he scoots closer to you, resting on the frame of the arch that leads from the living room to the hallway that connects with the front door and the kitchen. You fail to notice his presence, too busy struggling to keep both feet on the floor as your heels hang from your right hand and your purse on your left. The tiniest bit of relief travels through his veins, at least you are alone. You walk past Anakin, but he doesn’t let you wander more than three steps. 

“Had a fun time? He asks in a sarcastic, dry tone. Cold blue eyes scan you up and down unashamedly, taking notice of how revealing and tight your outfit looks. 

With a loud gasp you turn around in a split second, your eyes widen and your mouth contorts into an expression of shock and drunken panic, Anakin predicts your scream and sprints towards you clasping a hand over your mouth and pushing you against the nearest wall. If he was upset before now he is fuming. “Shut the fuck up” He whispers against your face, his hot breath fanning over your nose. Up close Anakin notices how your eyes are droopy, puffy, and red. “If you wake them up I won’t save your ass”

You try to push him away but to no avail, Anakin is stronger than you, and your drunken state completely eats up your stability. Your head shakes side to side trying to remove his hand from your mouth but it only makes him push it harder until your lips begin to feel numb. “Where were you?” He asks, towering right in front of you in a frightening yet… arousing way. “And what the fuck is that outfit?” 

It’s rather ironic how your stepbrother keeps interrogating you but also takes away your ability to talk— You let go of your heels that fall to the wood floor with a muted sound, trying to push him away with your palm against his chest. 

Which apparently infuriates Anakin further. “Keep your hands off me, who knows where they’ve been” He hisses and slaps your hand away and pins it to your side with frustrated force.  “Were you with someone?” Anakin hisses, so close to your face you can see how deep his eyes are. You never recall they were such a pretty shade of blue. 

You shake your head at his last question, the only verbal indication you can give. His shoulders seem to relax the tiniest bit just to return to his usual tense shape. “Don’t fucking lie to me” He warns you and spits your name in a venomous way that should hurt your feelings and bring tears to your eyes. You shake your head again this time more desperately, this is the closest he had ever been to you ever since your father married his mother and it’s borderline scary. “You smell like a damn distillery, fucking disgusting” 

Instead of pushing him again, you raise your knee to hit his hip, your goal was his crotch but you missed by a lot. Anakin grunts in pain and lets go of your mouth for a second letting you take a heavy, desperate breath. Your body feels dizzy and sweaty and it’s all because of him. The altercation only lasts a few seconds and you don’t even reach the first stair before Anakin yanks your hair and slams your body back to a wall.

“Let go of me—” You whine with little conviction. “Get the fuck off Anakin I—” Your voice isn’t a plea, it’s an irritated complaint that makes you focus on everything else besides the burning ache that is beginning to form in between your legs at the tussle between your stepsibling. You expect his hand to clasp over your mouth again and the little self-consciousness left in your mind decides to bite his palm if he does so—

But instead, his lips crash over yours messily, punching all the air from your lungs. Your body reacts faster than your mind and the first thought that swirls in your hazed head is: His tongue tastes like heaven. Anakin quietly grunts at the strong flavor of liqueur and cheap cigarettes that fills his senses, pushing his hips forward basically rubbing his half-hard cock against your hip. Using his grip on your hair he yanks your head upwards so his lips can attack your jaw and neck, rapt in your heavy panting. Anakin’s knee finds a comfortable spot between your thighs, rubbing the sharp bone over against your needy core. Your body jolts slightly and you mewl into the cold air of the staircase hallway. You want to touch him, run your hands through his hair, cup his beautiful face, embrace this sick, prohibited feeling— but the emotional grip he was on you is doing its job. You can’t seem to find the strength to move a single muscle, melting into a wordless puddle for the person who you were supposed to hate.

Anakin’s knee picks up an acceptable pace forcing you to move your hips involuntarily to relieve some of the ache. You couldn’t remember when was the last time you were this wet, and even if you wanted to— it would’ve been impossible. He leaves wet, lewd kisses over your neck before sucking and biting your skin, ravishing you as if you were his prey, and perhaps you were. Anakin’s hand which isn’t gripping at your hair so hard your scalp is burning, squeezes your hip with the same brutal, appealing force. 

“You don’t have any idea how bad I want you” Anakin breathes against your neck, his voice lingering with that dangerous edge, mixed with what appears to be compassion, but not for you, for himself.— or even emotion. “You get under my damn skin, you make me lose my damn mind” His white teeth are like a threat, sinking into every inch of skin available, marking you. 

To care? You don’t have it in you. Probably not even if you were sober. Your mind struggles to come up with a reply, the ocean you are swimming in has everything except guilt, which was burning Anakin’s soul. “I know…” You whispered weakly, pushing your hips forwards and biting your lip to choke a moan at how good it felt to be humping your stepbrother’s knee. “I heard you jacking last month— you moaned my name” It was a miracle you could even build the sentence together, your voice was slurred and broken, but Anakin understood every word.

He curses under his breath, and the surprising sight of his flushed, red cheeks seems to break your drunk trance for a moment. Anakin hides his face in your shoulder, resting his forehead on the muscle. “You weren’t supposed to hear that” He mutters, it feels humiliating, but the simple act of unintentional humiliation makes his cock twitch inside his grey sweats. 

“I did”

“Shut up”

“I liked it”

Anakin’s head snaps upwards, meeting your half-lidded eyes. He wants to believe you. The doubt flies around his head: He is not used to having what he wants— Why would you be the exception? Is this his chance to be greedy and take the only thing he has been craving for months now? Is this how Eve felt when the Devil offered her the forbidden fruit? 

Are you his forbidden fruit?

Is this the way out from Eden?

It was too much. 

Lowering his knee he glares at your discontented groan, placing both hands on your shoulders and forcing you to kneel. The intention is clear, and it doesn’t take you long to pick it up. Your shaky hands fumble with the little bow on his swears but Anakin just pushes them away, muttering something about ‘how stupidly drunk you are you can’t even do something for yourself’. What is also not a surprise, is the lack of underwear— but what it is— is his cock. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of it, completely hard right in front of your face. Swallowing, you allow him to guide the tip to your open, awaiting mouth. The first touch is like touching heaven, or hell— Your warm tongue swirls over the sensitive head tasting the salty precum, wondering what could you do to be able to savor him again. Anakin places his large hand on the back of your head fighting the urge to push you all the way in. He is trying to be nice, at least a little. Although, it seems like you have other plans; He is bigger than other guys you’ve seen, not massive but certainly above average. Perhaps big enough that you can see the outline on your lower stomach if he fucks you. Sliding a couple more inches inside your wet mouth you roll your eyes at the way Anakin’s breath hitches and how his hips push forwards the slightest bit.

The wonderful weight of his cock on your tongue is hypnotizing, and you waste no time bobbing your head back and forth, sliding a bit more of his cock after a couple of minutes. Raising your eyes, you find Anakin staring directly at you, his blue irises dilated and almost glowing in a predatory manner. 

His breathless chuckle catches you off guard. “You must be a slut if you suck cock this good.” It’s a double-edged compliment, either way, it feels good. You whine around his dick making him hiss in pleasure, biting his lower lip to keep the noises down. He can only imagine the catastrophic consequences if his mother (or your father) wakes up and finds his son’s cock buried in his stepsibling’s throat. “Fuck— I wish I could have you on your knees all day…” 

You try to nod at the idea, it sounds great— it fucking does. The struggle for air starts to hit you, and the lustful haze replaces the alcohol haze in your head and bloodstream— You are no longer drunk in cheap tequila, vodka, and whatever the fuck was in that igloo; no, you are drunk in his cock, his scent, his voice, in him. 

You decide to go big, because well, you already are home. Deepthroating him rewards you with a delightful moan, not loud enough to bounce over the walls of the first floor but enough for you to pick it up and moan as an aftereffect. Your throat contracts around his hard cock and Anakin is a dead man. The little restraint he had left breaks and the next thing you feel is your head banging against the wall to keep you in place as he fucks your face. His hips thrust on and on, your gags and chokes sobs only spurring him further. Your nails dig into his thighs and his balls graze against your chin with every frantic snap. Anakin is painting, sweating, sinning. 

If this was the forbidden fruit, could he blame Eve at all? 

Your tears, your smeared makeup, the drool that trickles down your chin is like a work of art. Anakin thinks you look beautiful, but it isn’t enough. The muted pounding of the back of your skull against the wall shouldn’t be as erotic as you register it, forcing your mouth open, letting him use you, ruin you, own you in the nastiest way possible. 

Anakin’s release comes without warning. His cock twitches inside your mouth and some thick, hot ropes of cum slide down your throat before he moved out of the warm paradise that your mouth was to paint your face with his cum. He exhales shakily, stroking the base to make sure everything is out and on you. The thick globe of cum that slides down your cheek reaches the corner of your lips and you stick your tongue to catch it, making Anakin squeeze his eyes close and wipe the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand.

The silence is everything but tense, it even feels comforting; as if all the words that you two wanted to scream were now said— in such a carnal, animalistic way. Anakin’s hands are gentle as he helps you get up, giving you the time you need to calm yourself and settle the unsteadiness of your legs. His arm wraps itself around your waist, trying so badly not to look at your cum-stained face in order to not get hard again. 

“Sorry,” He whispers as the familiar sensation of guilt makes itself present and commences to weigh his shoulders down. His nose scratches your shoulder, and every negative thought begins to swirl inside his mind. 

“Don’t be” You reply, trying to smile but you are too tired to even do it.

The clock ticks 4:12 am.

“Is it wrong if I say I love you?” Anakin’s voice is searing with regret, what has he done? The martyrdom rings inside his chest, constricting it and echoing like big, golden bells. 

“I don’t know” Your answer is sincere. You blink some tears away, wiping some of his lukewarm cum away from your face, it’s beginning to dry up. “But I love you too, so, if it’s wrong…”

He knows what you are implying. 

The clock ticks 4:16 am when he helps you undress and wipes your face with a makeup remover wipe. Anakin helps you get dressed, noticing your pajama top was an old t-shirt that belongs to him, a piece of clothing he simply imagined he lost in the washer machine. His lips are soft when he tucks you in bed. You smile at him tiredly, kissing him back.

No more words were needed.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn’t my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

[antiwhores]

I am screaming crying throwing up at how good your writing is my horny ass self THANKS YOU

if i may please make a request 👉🏼👈🏼 could we have a pussy eater bakugo fic 😮‍💨 lives in my head rent free

Bakugou eating you out

Sorry this took so long, ive been tryna run my W’s up. THANK YOU!! And enjoy

Bakugou loves to eat your pussy, no matter what you have to say about it.

Pussy eating ofc, mentions of all types of freplay and shit, sex, dub-con if you squint, voyeurism, etc.

Bakugou has never been a very shy person. Nothing about the way he carried himself is shy. When you think of antonyms for shy you think of Bakugou Katsuki.

That’s why you found yourself confused the first time he went down on you.

The farthest you had gone prior was dry humping and mutual masturbation. Giving and recieving head was a big deal for the both of you. It was the next step before penetration.

Bakugou was timid and careful when he opened your legs. It was like he thought you’d jump away and never come back if he made too sudden of a move. It was weird yet endearing since Bakugou was so aggressive when chasing pleasure while he dry humped you.

That careful attitude only lasted so long though. After a couple times, especially after you had gone all the way, he had been a lot more… demanding.

Bakugou found pleasure in tasting you on his tongue. From directly, to the aftertaste. Its like he found himself drunk on it. Your pussy made him feel like a fucking alcoholic.

He started to take you whenever and whereever he wanted. From the safe confines of your bedroom to the risky, crowded closet of his job.

He would get on his knees and place you on his mouth, holding you effortlessly.

His mouth needly licking and slurping at your constricting cunt while you covered your mouth to at least try to prevent being caught. Although, you wondered if the sounds of him eating you bare would attract people quicker than your muffled moans.

His tongue stuck deep into your cunt, scrapping itsef against your walls to bring back the slick that coated them. This was his fourth time pulling you away in the past hour. He was particularly horny today and nothing would stand inbetween him and your sloppy ecstasy, not even work.

First he pulled you to the boys bathroom on the almost abandoned rear side of the building. He fucked your mouth hard on his cock while whining praises mixed with degration. Then he fucked you onto his cock like his own personal fleshlight.

Then it was his office on the top floor. He locked his door as a compromise with you (he didnt want to at first but you said you were gonna scream if he didn’t, asshole move but it worked.) and finger fucked you on his desk until you came twice. He was about to whip himself out for a third orgasm but a knock on the door had you accidentally slapping the shit out of him.

The third time it was your office. He stumbled in with a hard cock and started to thigh fuck you until he came all over your desk and stomach. Then he proceeded to sloppily eat your cunt until you came into his mouth all while he jerked himself off.

And that leaves you to now, the fourth time. Where his lazy eyes watched you during the whole meeting you both attended. He eye-fucked you the entire time. Then after he dragged you into the closet far end of the agency building. It was cramped and he barely even squeezed the both of you in there. The only light was the one seeping from under the floor.

“Fuck,” he groaned into your cunt. You were sensitive after all the orgasm’s you had so far. Fat tears began to run down your cheeks.

A particular targeted thrust of him tongue had you flinching away from his touch. You tried to force yourself off of him but the growing pleasure made you weak in the knees. “Katsuki,” you moaned, “T’s too much. Too many times today.”

He always seems to get genuinely upset when your body jerks away from him when he eats you out. Its like taking a plate of his favorite food, made by his favorite chef, and kissed by a fucking god away from him from him, under his nose.

His grip on you tightened and he pulled you lower onto him. So much lower you were afraid he’d suffocate. A deep growl echoed through his chest as he told you to “shut up and sit pretty” through glistening lips.

He didn’t let you leave until after that painfully euphoric orgasm. And the next. By the end of your work shift, you limped to your shared home only to be fucked into complete immobility as soon as you arrived.