#smut no plot

[agreeewrites]

Best Friends Brother pt. 2 | C.W. ⋆✮⋆˙

feat. Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Months have passed since you met (ie shagged and definitely didn't fall in love with) Charlie Weasley. And when Molly invites you to the Burrow for Christmas, your best friends Fred and George assure you that Charlie will not be in attendance. Spoiler alert: They are wrong.

CW: MDNI 18+, lots of christmas fluff and smut, Charlie being a shameless flirt, pining, brat tamer and primal!charlie if you squint, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f receiving), this is so tooth-rotting I cannot

AN: Charlie might be my favorite weasley to write for. and the implications of brat taming and primal play have my mind reeeeeeling

part one | masterlist

“So what are you doing for Christmas, deary?” Mrs. Weasley asked, stirring a sugar lump into her tea. You were squeezed beside Fred into a booth at tea shop in Diagon Alley, having run into your best friends and their mother while Christmas shopping. Molly insisted you join them for a rejuvenating cuppa, and you weren't one to refuse an earl grey.

“Oh, nothing really. Probably watch some corny films and get take away,” you replied, nibbling on the edge of a croissant.

“What?!” She gasped, so loud the neighboring tables turned to see what the fuss what about.

Fred and George pulled an identical grimace.

“Unacceptable!” She cried, dropping her spoon with a clatter. “Why on earth didn't you tell me she was spending Christmas alone?!” She whacked George on the arm and kicked Fred in the shin under the table.

“We didn't know!” They whined in unison, rubbing their injuries.

“Oh, Mrs. Weasley, it really isn't a big deal—”

“Not a big deal! Dear, it's Christmas!” She reached across the table and took your hands, squeezing hard and holding your eye. “You will spend it with us at the Burrow, alright?”

Your heart stopped, your tongue going thick. “Oh, I-uh—”

“Charlie will be in Romania,” Fred hissed to you from the corner of his mouth. “Just say yes, or she’ll skin us.”

Charlie. Best friends brother, dragon wrangler, and the best lay you'd ever had in your life. It had been three months since your tryst in the storage room, and the hours of effortless conversation that came after, and you'd thought of him every day since.

You'd exchanged a few letters over the months, pleasantries and some light flirting on Charlie's part. He'd even sent you a few shed scales from your favorite dragon species, the Welsh Green, but beyond that, nothing had transpired.

He lived on Romania, after all. And his work was his life. You just had a bit of fun together, a few hours of fantasy, nothing more. But no matter how many times you repeated that like mantra, you still found yourself unable to move on.

“I hope you know, love, I will not accept 'no' as an answer,” Molly said, pining you with a stern glare.

“Well, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I’m very grateful for the invitation, and I'd love to spend the holidays with your family,” you said, offering as genuine a smile you could muster despite your trepidation, and Molly beamed at you, already running through her plans for you all.

Fred slung an arm around your shoulders, jostling you with his excitement. “Yes! You're gonna love it.”

You were grateful, and you were eager to have a real Christmas with a family you adored, but it still felt…odd. You'd be spending the holidays with Charlie's family, but not Charlie.

You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed but…either way you were spending Christmas at the Weasley’s.

The Burrow and it's residents welcomed you with open arms. The sprawling home was decorated floor to rafter in homemade garland and candles, with decorated trees in every room, branches heavy with ornaments and paper chains.

Harry, Hermione, and Fleur were also staying over the holidays, and Ginny was beside herself with excitement that you were joining as well, pulling you in for a crushing hug that squeezed the last of bits of anxiety from your heart. Percy and Bill helped with your things, and the twins were quick to get a drink in your hand while everyone chatted excitedly over one another.

It was warm and merry, and you couldn't believe you almost missed this because of a stupid, little crush.

After about an hour of conversation, you noticed Ginny start to fidget under Harry’s arm, glancing at the location clock by the stairs every few minutes. The hand with Charlie's name remained firmly at ‘work’, while the rest piled into ‘home’.

You exhaled, fighting the nerves reknitting themselves in your stomach.

“Oi, twitchy,” Fred bumped your shoulder, drawing your attention back to the conversation. “What's on your mind—”

The floo station suddenly flared to life, verdant green light blasting through the room as the flames roared. Everyone yelped and scurried back, well, besides Ginny, and when the flames died the next instant, you realized why.

Charlie Weasley stood at the center of the fireplace, a bag over his shoulder and a smug smile on his face.

Your stomach turned inside out.

Merlin, how had he gotten even more handsome? His hair was a slightly longer, his beard thicker to ward off the biting, Romanian cold. He wore a heavy coat and cargo pants, leather boots still packed with melting snow.

“Charles!” Molly shrieked, throwing herself at her second oldest son and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Charlie!” Everyone cried, rushing to greet him while you tiptoed the opposite way, meaning to escape into the hall so you could collect yourself.

“Ah, ah,” George said, catching your wrist, grinning. “You don't want to do that,” he teased.

“And why not?” You huffed.

“Better to play it cool,” he winked, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

He was right, though. You would only survive this if you played it cool. Pretended everything was normal, that you hadn't been pining for this man for weeks on end, that the thought of spending Christmas with Charlie didn't make your heart flutter with excitement.

“But the clock!” Arthur laughed, finally wrangling Molly away so he could hug his son.

“Asked Ginevra to enchant it,” Charlie said, hugging his father with one arm and bundling his little sister into his opposite side, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “Seems she did well.”

“It is not to be tampered with!” Molly crowed, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“Alright, alright. I'll fix it,” Charlie chuckled, withdrawing his wand from his belt and muttering a reversal spell. The clock hand whirred around the face, confused, before it finally settled on ‘home’ with everyone else.

Charlie made his way around the room, hugging everyone and chatting until finally, he reached George, who you were attempting to hide behind.

Charlie pulled him into a bear hug, clapping him on the back. “She knows I can see her, right?” He murmured to George, just loud enough to be sure you also heard him.

Your cheeks warmed, your stomach falling through the floor.

George scoffed. “Stop checkin’ out my girlfriend, mate.”

Charlie grinned, shoving George to the side, perhaps a little harder than necessary. “Dream on, Georgie,” he chuckled, eyes shining with amusement. He finally turned to you, his expression softening. “Happy Christmas, y/n,” he said, approaching slowly, the heavy plod of his boots matching the jump of your heart.

“Happy Christmas, Charlie,” you replied, playing coy and reaching up to brush some snow from his wide shoulder. “How's my Welsh Green?” you asked.

Charlie smirked, his eyes sweeping over your face, down your neck, before flicking back to your eyes. “She nearly took my head off this morning when I tried to give her breakfast.”

“My kind of girl.” You felt your skin prickle under his attention, but you held your composure.

“Mine too,” he purred, lowering his voice. Heat curled low in your stomach, remembering the way his voice pitched and deepened while you—good god, you were losing your mind.

“Time for supper!” Molly called over the dull roar of conversation, and you slipped away from Charlie to follow the twins into the dining room, desperate for a breath that wasn’t sweetened by his cologne.

Dinner went by in a blur of food and activity, Charlie sat by Arthur at the head while you were sequestered to the other side with the twins. After eating, Charlie slipped away to shower, and you joined everyone else back in the living room for board games and music.

You were wrapped up in a game of Scrabble with Hermoine and Ginny when Charlie re-emerged, his hair damp and slicked back, dressed in flannel pajama pants and a black t-shirt. Your mouth dried, your pussy fluttering at the mental image of him in the shower moments before.

His eyes found you across the room, his tongue darting out to wet his lips while they swept over you, taking in the House crewneck and pj shorts you’d changed into. You turned back the game to hide your face, swallowing the lump in your throat.

A moment passed, then Charlie turned to join Bill, Percy, and Arthur in the study, casting you another glance over his shoulder before disappearing.

A few more hours rolled by, and one by one, everyone went to bed besides the older men in the study. Molly set you up on the couch, apologizing profusely for the lack of space, but you waved her off, happy to curl up by the fire and read the book Percy lent you.

You settled in with a blanket over your lap, a book in one hand, cup of tea in the other. Soon though, exhaustion began to tug at you, and your eyes started to flutter closed, the warmth of the room and the chaos of the day taking its toll as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Distantly, you felt someone take the book from your hand, the empty tea cup from your lap, and you swam back to wakefulness, lifting your head.

“Just me, love,” a voice said, soft and male, and you immediately recognized it as Charlie’s.

You blinked open your eyes, finding him sticking a playing card in your book to hold your page. “Oh, what are you doin’?” you mumbled, rubbing a knuckle in your eye.

“Are you sleeping down here?” he asked, crouching in front of you, brow lightly creased. He smelled like woodsmoke and cinnamon, and you had to remind your sleep-addled mind that you could not just melt into his arms like softened candle wax.

You nodded. “Guest beds are full. But it’s okay, m’comfy.” You snuggled back down on to the couch, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“I don’t think so. C’mon, you can take my bed.”

You shook your head, grumbling an unintelligible protest into the pillow as sleep crept back in on you.

Suddenly, you were moving, the couch falling away.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sodding couch,” Charlie grumbled, curling you into his chest. You gave half a thought to try and free yourself, to put up some sort of fight, but his heartbeat was right against your ear, reverberating in the barrel of his chest, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to move away.

He carried you up a few flights of stairs and down a hallway, nudging open a bedroom door with his foot, careful to walk you through without bumping against anything. He set you down on his bed and tucked you under the thick duvet. The smell of him wrapped around you, clean and warm and Charlie, and you moaned in contentment, too tired to stop yourself.

Every one of your cells had missed him.

He pressed a light-as-air kiss to your temple before pulling away. You reached out to catch his hand, surprising him.

“Where are you gonna sleep?” You asked, voice muffled by his pillow.

“I’ll find somewhere,” he murmured, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “Used to sleeping in strange places.”

You must have pulled some kind of face, your filter nonexistent in your sleepy state, because he leaned back down to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Better stop with that pout, sweetheart. You’ve got me strung out on the gallows,” he warned, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“M’not doing anything,” you teased back, peeking open your eyes to look at him.

“I’m trying to behave this time,” he chuckled, crossing his heart. “You deserve to be properly courted.”

A yawn stole the snarky quip from your tongue. “If you insist,” you sigh, eyes fluttering closed again.

“I do. Now, get some sleep,” he whispered, but you were already gone.

The following morning, you trudged down the stairs at an egregious hour, the incessant, jovial chatter of the Weasley's impossible to sleep through.

You found them all in the kitchen, steam from the kettle floating through the air, chased by the scent of cinnamon and syrup.

“There she is! The dead walks the earth! Now go bloody change!” Arthur shouted, shoving a rumpled but bright-eyed looking Charlie out from the crowd around the kitchen island.

“Huh?” You looked between the twins and Arthur, but Charlie slung an arm over your shoulder, tugging you into his side.

“I've been summoned to the Ministry for an update on a particularly nasty Horntail,” he said, then leaned in a little closer. “And Happy Christmas Eve, darling,” he whispered.

“Happy Christmas Eve—sorry, what does that have to do with me?” You asked, your brain catching up to the situation.

“The sap refused to risk waking you up to change into his suit,” George supplied. "So they're running late."

“Why would you—”

“Ignore them, you can sleep as long as you like,” he murmured to you.

“Charlie!” You hissed. “You should have woken me up!”

“Over my dead body, love.”

“Charles! Now!” Molly shouted, rattling the rafters.

“Fine, fine.” He reluctantly pulled away from you and bound up the stairs.

“Good morning,” Fred said, beaming at your scowl.

“Morning people, are we?” You asked, accepting a cup of coffee from George.

“No,” Ron argued, his head pillowed by his arms on the table.

Fifteen minutes later, the clop of heavy boots coming down the stairs drew everyone's attention away from their breakfast.

Charlie came around the bend, dressed in a simple, espresso colored suit with a black wool coat, a leather bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was pushed back, brushed and tidy, and silver jewelry shined from his pierced ears and ringed hands.

You nearly choked on your eggs, and Fred clapped a hand on your back.

Everyone wolf whistled and jeered, not used to seeing their rakish brother dressed to the nines. Charlie waved them off with a soft smile, leaning over you to grab a cinnamon roll. His freshly applied cologne wafted over you, spicy and warm, and all other thoughts vacated your head.

Arthur grabbed him by the arm. “Yes, yes. You're very handsome, you are my son after all. Let's go.”

“Wish us luck!” Charlie called, allowing an impatient Arthur to drag him towards the floo station. In a burst of green, they were gone.

“Are all mornings this chaotic?” You asked no one in particular.

“Yes,” they all replied in a unison, and you grinned.

You could get used to a little chaos.

The day passed in a whirlwind of preparation, with you spending most of it with Molly in the kitchen or decorating with the twins.

Once that was finished, you'd gotten ready in Charlie's room, dressing in a white sweater dress and black stockings, your hair loose and makeup light.

You couldn't help but wonder what Charlie would think of it as you evaluated yourself in the mirror. You felt his absence like an ache in your side, and found your gaze wandering back to the floo station all day.

About an hour before dinner, green flames finally erupted in the fireplace. Everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed over, eager to hear about how it went at the Ministry.

You'd gathered from the twins that the fate of the Horntail hung in the balance after it destroyed a flock of sheep in Western Scotland. Charlie, along with several other Dragonologists, had been fighting for it’s life for months.

The flames extinguished, revealing Arthur and Charlie. Arthur was beaming, an arm around his son, while Charlie looked exhausted.

“Oh, thank goodness. Just in time!” Molly cried, throwing her arms around her husband.

“How'd it go?” Everyone asked at once, following Charlie as he stalked into the living room and dropped heavily onto the couch.

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut against the racket.

“Our son was incredible, Molly. You should have seen him. Every question, he beat away like a bludger. It was masterful,” Arthur gushed, still grinning.

You watched Charlie warily. He certainly wasn't acting like it had gone well.

Bill, seeming as concerned as you, poured a glass of whiskey and passed it to his younger brother. Charlie swallowed the amber drink in one go, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“So, is the Horntail safe?” Ginny asked, sitting tentatively beside her brother on the couch.

“For now,” Charlie muttered, finally picking his head up and opening his eyes. “They want to reevaluate in six months.”

“But that's good, isn't it?” Harry asked.

Charlie nodded. “I suppose.”

You could feel the hurt and anger radiating off of him despite his efforts at composure. The resolution clearly wasn't good enough for him, and you understood why.

You resisted the urge to sit by him, to fuss over him like his family was doing. It seemed to only drive him deeper into himself. He didn't need to hear that it was a good thing, a victory, because it wasn't. It shouldn't be a debate in the first place.

Christmas Eve dinner passed with the expected chaos, and Charlie seemed to cheer a bit after a good meal, a few laughs, and another whiskey. But you could still detect a heaviness around his shoulders. You felt it as keenly as if it was your own burden.

After dinner, everyone moved back into the living room, but you followed Charlie into the now abandoned kitchen, the wreckage of the meal evident on every surface.

You leaned against the entry way, watching as he fiddled with random things, looking for a way to distract himself. “Hey,” you murmured, drawing his attention from the mugs he was straightening.

He gave you a tired smile. “Hi, love. How was your day?” He asked, moving towards you. He'd ditched his blazer and dress shirt before dinner, leaving him in his dark trousers and a white t-shirt, his muscles straining against the fabric.

“It was good. Made some cookies, strung some lights. We missed you, though.”

He braced a hand on the wall beside your head, leaning closer. “We?” He asked, raising a brow.

Merlin, his bicep was the size of your head.

You shrugged, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Me, mostly.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, freckles crinkling around his eyes. “I missed you too. Would have much rather been here to help out. I make a mean gingerbread.”

“I bet you do," you replied sincerely, watching the way his shoulders start to ease down. “I’m sorry about the Horntail,” you said, a little quieter. “But I'm glad you bought it a little more time.”

Charlie sighed, picking at a flake of paint on the wall. “I am too. Just wish I didn't have to do it at all. He doesn't deserve to be executed just for feeding himself.”

“I know. But I'm glad he has you to speak for him.”

Charlie searched your face, his eyes melting with blatant affection. Your heart tripped over itself, drumming hard under your skin.

He glanced up and you followed his gaze, finding a sprig of mistletoe hanging just above your heads. You hadn't noticed it before, but you supposed that was the beauty of mistletoe: it was always where you least expected it.

His eyes flicked back down to you, molten chocolate, and your thoughts turned to static. He reached up to cup your face, far more timid than you've come to expect from him, and tilted your head up towards his.

“Can't believe I haven't told you how beautiful you look yet,” he said, his other hand sliding around your waist to draw you closer. “A Christmas wish come true.”

You smiled, feeling like marshmallow over an open flame. “A Christmas wish?” You prodded, batting your lashes at him as heat spilled through you.

“Too cheesy?” He asked, bumping his nose against yours, your faces so close you could almost feel his smirk.

“The perfect amount,” you murmured, your lips grazing his.

Charlie closed the final millimeter, pressing your bodies together in a slow, sipping kiss. Every neuron in your body lit up, reaching towards him as you curled your fingers into his shirt, deepening the kiss. His tongue caressed the seam of your mouth and you parted for him, letting him delve further and taste you.

He loosed a low groan, his grip tightening as he backed you against the wall. He licked into your mouth, stoking the fire simmering under your skin.

“Hey, y/n—merlin, in the middle of the kitchen? Really?”

You and Charlie sprang apart, finding Fred with a hand clapped over his eyes, a cheeky grin on his face.

“So sorry for interrupting. Though, lucky it was me and not mum,” he teased, dropping his hand. But his smile quickly fell too when Charlie advanced on him, swinging an arm out in an attempt to grab him. Fred ducked to the left and bolted back into the living room, leaving Charlie laughing and shaking his head.

“Well, that's fantastic,” you huffed, pressing a hand to your sternum to quell your pounding heart.

“I can't say they'll be all that surprised.” Charlie cupped your face again, drawing you up for a quick peck. “I haven't shut up about you since we met.”

You're soul lifted out of your body. “You—r-really?”

He smiled, pulling you in for a hug, his big arms wrapped around your head and shoulders. “Really, love. You've got me wrapped around your little finger,” he said, his voice muffled by your hair.

“I thought I was going mad, I…I couldn't stop thinking about you,” you admitted, exhaling in relief. You hugged him around the waist, sliding your hands under his shirt just to feel his skin against yours.

You felt him stiffen at your admission, before the tension dissolved from his muscles completely. “Maybe we're both a little mad, then,” he chuckled.

“We should get back to the party before they start to miss us,” you said after a few moments of quiet, though all you wanted to do was drag him up to his room and show him just how mad you were for him. But you were a guest, and you needed a moment to get your thoughts in order.

It seemed Charlie had made up his mind about what he wanted, but you hadn't even begun to let yourself consider something real with Charlie Weasley. It seemed like too lofty a hope, an impossibility.

Your heart screamed ‘yes’ but your mind demanded a rationalization, a plan. Whatever you felt for him was intense, but you would hate to rush into something and ruin what you knew could be amazing.

Well, rush into something any more than your already had.

You realized he was studying you like your thoughts were written across your skin. “Baby, look at me,” he said, turning your face back up to his. “I know we started off on an…unorthodox foot. But that wasn't just a hook up and you and I both know it.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “There’s something more between us.”

“I feel it too,” you admitted. “But I've never…” you trailed off, unable to articulate the tumbling thoughts in your mind.

“Me neither, to be honest. I feel like I've been struck by lightning,” he said, breathless, a slight nervous tremble in his voice.

You nodded, reassured that he was feeling the same, vaguely crazed way you were.

“Trust yourself, y/n,” he said, releasing you from the hug and offering you his hand. “Overthinking is the thief of joy.”

“Get out of my brain,” you huffed in mock annoyance, smiling as you twined your fingers with his.

The rest of the evening passed in a rose colored blur, with cookies and games and storytelling. Charlie never strayed far from your side, though you kept any physical affection to a minimum. But based on the knowing looks from Arthur and Molly, and the teasing smirks and jabs from his siblings, they were definitely on to you two.

After the clock struck midnight, Molly demanded everyone go off to bed so Father Christmas would have no interruptions. You were all plenty old enough to know there was no such thing, but it still made you feel a giddy thrill of excitement. That glimmer of Christmas magic you never grow out of.

Charlie offered you his hand at the base of the stairs, a mischievous sort of smile on his face, and you accepted with a raised eyebrow. He led you up the stairs and opened the door to his room with a flourish.

You nearly toppled over when you walked in. It was completely transformed from this morning. Gone were the normal decorations and his dark duvet, replaced instead with a winter forest wonderland.

His bedspread was a deep forest green, with white throw pillows and silver trim, and a stuffed reindeer waited patiently for you on the pillow, floppy and velveteen. In the corner stood a flocked tree, decorated with pine cones and strung cranberries, and little animal ornaments carved from wood. The fire roared merrily in the fireplace, the mantle above it strewn with wild garland and rosemary. Two stockings hung above the flame, each of your names embroidered on them in silver and gold.

You whirled around to look at Charlie, who was smiling down at you, a slight flush to his freckled cheeks.

“When the hell did you have time to do this?” You asked, breathless and overwhelmed. No one has ever done something so special for you before.

“While you were wrapped up in Wizards Chess with Ron.” He snaked his arms around you, dropping a kiss to your furrowed brow.

“Charlie, this is—” emotion clogged your throat. “T-this is the m-most amazing thing—”

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, shushing you with a peck to your lips. “Spoiling you on Christmas feels like the least I can do to show you how much you mean to me. How badly I want this.”

“This?” You ask, sliding your hands up his broad chest. You expected to feel butterflies, but instead a warm blanket of peace settled over you, an understanding that this is exactly how it was meant to go. That here, with him, in the earliest hours of Christmas morning, was exactly where you belonged.

“Us,” he murmured, glancing at the stockings over the mantle, then back down to you, his dark eyes practically glowing with affection. “If that's what you want too.”

“Even with me here in London?” You asked, fiddling with his collar to hide the shaking in your fingers.

“We'll figure it out. You can come visit me as often as you like. And I can come back here a few times a month.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek, moving down your neck like he just couldn't hold himself back anymore. “I have a cabin.” Kiss. “In the forest.” Kiss. “With a big fireplace.” Kiss. “And a soaking tub.” Kiss. “And I can cook.” Kiss. “And have a giant bed—”

“Charlie!” You giggled, tugging on his hair so he lifted his head and you could kiss him properly, melting under the eagerness of his mouth, the joy in his kiss.

He scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He crossed the room without breaking the kiss, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with you straddling him. The heat of your bodies pressed together was enough to have your pussy tingling, your breath labored.

“I wanna go where you go,” you breathed, breaking the kiss to appease your burning lungs. “I want to be with you.”

He responded with another fervid kiss, open-mouthed and hungry, and you let yourself get swept away in the riptide that was Charlie Weasley. Wild, impulsive, but so sincere, so lion-hearted and good. You weren't sure you'd ever get enough of him.

He seemed just as desperate for you, tugging his shirt over his head and letting your hands finally wander the full expanse of his body without barriers. You pushed him back onto the bed so you could really take him in, his big hands resting heavily on your thighs. He was broad and sturdy, his chest and arms corded with hard earned muscle, the tanned skin littered with freckles and silvery scars.

You nearly started drooling.

In a fluid motion, you tugged your sweater dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your Christmas underwear set and black stockings. The set was black mesh, decorated with mistletoe and holly berries. You had bought in Hogsmeade on the off chance Charlie made an appearance, and it was worth the steep price to see his soul ascend as he took you in.

“Merlin’s fucking—” he didn't even finish the sentence, instead pulling you down onto his chest for another scalding kiss, his calloused hands wandering up your thighs and over your hips, smoothing over the curve of your rib cage and around the plane of your back. His tongue slid into your mouth, twining with yours. You could taste the whiskey he'd been drinking, tinged with cigar smoke and gingerbread, and you moaned at the decadence of him.

One of his hands slid around to cup the nape of your neck, the other bracketing across your lower back to press your hips flush to his. You ground down onto him, unable to ignore the thrumming between your legs any longer. You both groaned at the new friction, his hips lifting to press more firmly against you.

“Just so you know,” he gruffed as you kissed down his neck, licking a long stripe over his Adam’s apple, feeling his stubble under your tongue. “I put a silencing charm on the room.”

“Very presumptuous of you,” you teased, sucking at his pulse just hard enough to leave a faint bruise, but nothing too obvious.

His hips rolled against yours, coaxing a breathy moan from your lips. “Part of my training includes being prepared for any situation,” he countered, his voice strained with desire as you rocked against him.

“Uh-huh. And what else were you trained to do?” You asked, freezing in place to watch him squirm.

A wicked smirk crossed his face and suddenly you were moving, flipped beneath his body faster than you could blink. “How to tame brats,” he growled against your ear, and a shiver rolled down your spine.

He shifted down your body, kissing and licking along the swell of your breasts before unlatching your bra and tossing in across the room. He took both your tits in his hands, nuzzling the soft flesh before laving his tongue across both nipples, making you lift off the bed with a gasp of pleasure.

“It's not fair that you get to walk around with these all the time. Too fucking perfect,” he said, his voice muffled by your skin.

You almost said that they were his. That the only thing that wasn't fair was how quickly he'd stolen your heart. But you bit your tongue, moaning under his ministrations instead.

He sucked a pearled nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it before grazing his teeth against it, his fingers pinching and rolling the other until your eyes crossed, desire pooling between your legs.

“Can take my time with you now,” he hummed, pulling back to pepper kisses across your chest. “Take care of my girl properly.”

My girl. Your head spun, your heart swelling with elation. You never thought this would happen for you, the perpetually single girl who never found someone you genuinely connected with. But Charlie was like a comet tearing through your life, turning every one of your assumptions about love upside down.

He drew you back from your thoughts with a bite under your left breast. “Come back to me, baby. No more overthinking.”

“It’s good thoughts this time,” you said, running your fingers through his ginger hair and scratching along his scalp as he soothed the mark with his tongue.

He looked up at you, a pleased smirk on his face. “Thinking about that soaking tub, huh?”

You pulled his hair, giggling at his antics while he moved further down your body. “Among other things—shit, Charlie,” you whined when his tongue dragged over the soaked gusset of your panties, scalding hot and firm.

He pulled them to the side, gliding his tongue through your slick folds and wrapping his lips around your clit, lashing it with the tip of his tongue. Pleasure coursed through you, your eyes rolling back in your skull as you cried out.

He hummed against you, moving back down to lap at your entrance with long, messy strokes. He was practically grinding his face against you, savoring you like you were the finest meal he'd ever had. He was so enraptured in pleasuring you that he was moaning right along with you, making your clit vibrate and walls flutter.

“Saints, I missed you,” he said, giving your clit and open mouthed kiss before sucking the sensitive bud between his teeth.

You couldn't even begin to formulate words, completely lost in his feasting, your body fizzing with delight and pleasure. It felt like you were high, your muscles languid, bones rubbery.

“Not thinking anymore, are we?” He teased, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You whimpered and shook your head, raising your hips to chase after his mouth.

“Good girl.” he purred, rewarding you by latching back onto your clit, his middle finger easing inside your greedy channel.

You cried out, clenching around his finger as he pushed you closer to the edge, your listless haze making way for bright, desperate pleasure. You bucked your hips against his mouth, his tongue flattening against your clit as his inserted a second finger, stretching you. The sounds were damn near sinful, lewd and sloppy as he worked your pussy into submission, molding you like a sculptor with wet clay.

“Fuck, Charlie. M’gonna come,” you whined, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep him in that perfect spot.

He curled his fingers inside of you and your vision whited out, your orgasm ripping through you, body and soul. You screamed, spine arching off the bed as wave after wave of burning ecstasy rolled through you, his tongue and fingers not letting up for a second as you convulsed.

“That's it, honey. Just like that, let it all go,” he cooed, kitten-licking your clit as you started to come down, his fingers continuing to gently massage your spasming walls. “Try to relax, love. I know it's a lot, but just relax f’me. You're doing so well.”

You sank back into the mattress, breathing labored as he soothed your quivering pussy with gentle touches. “Charlie,” you moaned, your body finally settling and cycling from overstimulation to rebuilding pleasure. “Feels s’good.”

He nuzzled your clit, kissing over your slit, the top of your mound, your inner thighs. “I live to serve,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and sucking them clean. “And if I have to live my life in service to this perfect little cunt, so be it.” As if to punctuate his point, he laved his tongue through you again and you keened, nearly jumping away at the intensity.

You shook you head, tugging him up by the hair. “Need you to fuck me, Charlie. Please?”

He grinned, kissing his way back up your body until he caught your lips once more, the taste of you mixing with him in a way that pleased some possessive part of your brain. You deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth for more.

He pressed his body against yours, the weight of him warm and comforting as you savored one another. You trailed your hands over his back, feeling some of the ridges and scars stretched across the ropes of muscle. He guided one of your legs up over his hip, angling your bodies together like a puzzle piece.

You basked in the simmering kiss for a moment longer before need began to claw at your insides, your hips pressing up against his once more.

“Charlie, please,” you sighed into his mouth, dragging your nails down his back. “Don't make me beg.”

“But you sound so sweet, all breathy and desperate,” he cooed, pecking your lips a final time before moving off the bed. He slid your panties down your legs, tossing them aside with your other clothes, then removed his trousers and boxers, that gorgeous, rosy cock slapping up against his stomach.

He climbed back onto the bed and spread your thighs, kneading the flesh at your hip while he ran the rigid head of his cock through your drooling pussy.

“My sweet girl wants to get fucked, hm?” he said, his voice rough as he used his cock to massage your puffy clit. “Let me hear you ask one more time, honey. Sounds so pretty.”

“Please fuck me, baby. Please,” you whimpered, fisting the sheets on either side of you.

He notched his cock at your entrance, hissing through his teeth as your pussy opened effortlessly for him. “That's it, lovey. Fuck, your little pussy is so tight f’me,” he groaned as your walls clenched around him, coaxing him deeper. You could tell he was fighting the urge to bottom out in one thrust, the muscles in his arms and shoulders taught and trembling, chest heaving and jaw a little slack.

You reached for him, the feeling so intense you needed an anchor. He leaned forward, knowing what you craved, and let you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck.

He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh, his other hand sliding around your back to hold you against him. “Too much, baby?” He asked, pausing his slow penetration.

“Too good,” you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He nodded, loosing a breath as you clenched around him. “Feel like your squeezing my heart,” he groaned, and you could feel it racing just beneath his skin, frantic as yours.

“Keep going, Charlie. Please,” you begged, tilting your pelvis so he sank a little deeper.

He eased you back onto the bed, still holding you close. “Good girl, takin’ me so well. Just relax, honey. Just feel me,” he soothed as he pushed the rest of the way in, his cockhead nudging your cervix and stretching your walls just enough. Not sensing any discomfort from you, he started rolling his hips back and forth in fluid strokes, kissing your skin wherever he could reach.

Pleasure spread through your body like ink through water, coloring every sensation, every thought. You loosened your grip on him, opening yourself up to his unhurried affection as he fucked you slowly, letting you adjust to the onslaught of sensation.

“You're so pretty like this, so fucking perfect.” He mouthed at your throat, your head tilting back with a cry as he increased his pace, ecstasy dancing along your skin. “All mine to love on, yeah? You all mine, baby?”

You bobbed your head, already cockdrunk and blissed out, your body submitting completely to him. “Yes, fuck, yes. All yours,” you whimpered, that knot in your lower stomach starting to tighten.

“Fuck yes, my good girl.” He leaned down and caught your lips in a searing kiss, a growl rumbling through his chest as he fucked you harder, driving his cock in and out of your sopping cunt with powerful strokes. “And I'm yours, baby. All fucking yours.” He murmured against your mouth and you grinned, feeling your heart give a discordant thump of elation.

He leaned back to fuck you deeper, one hand tangling with both of yours and pining your arms over your head, the other sliding down to rub tight circles over your clit. You stretched out for him, arching your breasts up to his hungry gaze as he railed you, merciless and claiming.

“Saints, you look so fucking sexy. Gonna come for me, love? Mark this cock as yours?”

You let out a scream as a second orgasm was wrenched from your body, the tension unraveling all at once in a torrent of bliss. You clamped hard around him, feeling his cock swell, then buck as his own release crashed over him, your name coming out like roar.

You clung to one another, his hips still rolling into yours as your walls milked him dry, wringing every drop of pleasure from one another until you crashed back to earth as one.

After catching your breath for a moment, he lifted off of you, hands skimming over your face, your body. “Merlin, I’m sorry, baby. I really didn't mean to be that rough, are you okay? Did I hurt—”

You silenced him with a kiss, pulling his body back down onto yours. “Was perfect,” you mumbled against his lips and he smiled.

“You were perfect,” he corrected, pecking kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. “Can’t get enough of you.”

You giggled, squirming as his hands tickled along your sensitive skin.

“Can I take you for a real date tomorrow? I don't know if anything will be open, but I refuse to go another day without—”

“Charlie,” you shushed, cupping his bearded cheek. “You can take me to the kitchen and call it a first date. I don't care about some made-up fucking rules. I just want to be with you.”

He grinned, giving you a quick, toothy kiss. “Then how about I clean you up, make some mulled wine with this expensive shit I brought back from Romania, and we cuddle by the fire? Call that our first date, and next year we can celebrate our one year anniversary on Christmas.”

You pushed against his chest, laughing at his dramatics, but secretly hoping that would be the case. “It better be a hell of mulled wine then,” you teased.

“Oh, it will be. Romanians don't fuck around when it comes to their booze. Now, open those gorgeous legs for me.”

“Charles Septimus Weasley! Get up!” Ginny shouted through the door, banging her fist on the wood. “You cannot sleep in on Christmas!”

“Septimus?” You groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Charlie had his head buried in your neck, heavy limbs thrown over your body. He was warm as a furnace, and the still crackling fire didn't help matters.

“Sod off!” he barked back, nuzzling closer and tightening his hold around you. You glanced at the clock, and after your prolonged first date, you'd only gotten a few scant hours of sleep.

“Fine! Then I'll throw whatever's in this fancy little box in the fire!”

Charlie was up in a flash, tugging on pants and wrenching open the door, but Ginny was already gone.

He sighed, grabbed something from the hall, then swung the door shut. He looked ready to dive back into bed, but you were already up, pulling on a pair of his boxers.

He froze in place, a feral sort of glint in his eye, forgetting entirely about the package in his hands. When you went to grab it, he lifted it high above his head, well out of your reach.

“Charlie!” You pouted, trying in vain to pull his arm down. He still hadn't taken his eyes off of your body. “You really want me to make a bad impression on your parents for our first Christmas?” You snapped, fighting the smile rising on your face.

“Just do a little spin for me,” he said, twirling a finger around.

“Charlie!”

“Fine, fine. Here,” he chuckled, handing you a pair of pajamas with your name embroidered on them. They were red and green, with white stripes and gold thread, the material thick and warm.

You loved them already.

The two of you quickly got dressed and hurried downstairs, finding everyone else already piled into the living room, also dressed in matching pj's.

“Ah, the lovebirds finally make their appearance!” Bill teased from the big arm chair, Fleur cuddled into his side.

Charlie flipped him off, ignoring the squawk of disapproval form his mother.

“Come, come!” Molly grabbed you and plunked you down on the last free space on the couch, and George passed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

George leaned in and muttered, “It's no mulled wine, but—”

Charlie whacked the back of his head. “Quiet, you,” he warned.

“Charles, if I have to speak to you again!” Molly shouted.

“Alright, alright! Let's get this show on the road,” Arthur said, shooing his son away so they could distribute the clumsily wrapped boxes under the tree.

Charlie plopped onto the floor between your knees, his hands coming up to absently massage your right foot. Your whole body tingled at the contact, your heart still tight with joy.

Could this really be your life?

Arthur passed out gifts, and you ended up with a pile of three at your feet. A flat, rectangular box, a heavy, square box, and one small enough to fit in your hand, wrapped in green and gold ribbon.

They went around one by one, opening gifts. Charlie received a new pair of steel-toed boots, enchanted to prevent the Romanian cold from creeping in, and an expensive looking bottle of gin, courtesy of his big brother.

After him, it was finally your turn. Your heart thudded from the attention, and you started unwrapping the larger present with trembling fingers. You tore off the paper and opened the white box underneath it, finding a knitted sweater with your initial on the front. Your throat pinched shut, tears burning behind your eyes as you traced your fingers over it.

“You're part of the family now, love,” Molly said, smiling warmly at you as you wiped away a tear with the back of your hand.

“Thank you,” you sniffled, laughing at yourself, and Charlie gave your ankle a reassuring squeeze, pressing a kiss to your knee.

The next present was from Fred and George, a stack of books you'd been eyeballing the last time the three of you went to Flourish and Blotts, and you pulled them in for a group hug.

Finally, it came down to the last present. The tension pulled taut as a bowstring when Charlie turned towards you, propped up on one knee, presenting the small box.

“I know how this looks,” he murmured, glancing down at himself. “But I promise I'm not that insane.”

You giggled nervously, taking the present from his hand and trying to ignore that his entire family was watching you. You tried to focus on Charlie, the rise and fall of his shoulders, the lock of copper hair hanging over his brow, and blocked the others out.

Carefully, you undid the ribbon and tore off the paper, revealing a black, dragon-leather box. Charlie gave you an encouraging nod, noticing the way you hesitated, and you cracked open the lid.

Inside was a golden necklace with a Welsh Green dragon scale pendant sitting on a velvet cushion. It was the most stunning shade of emerald you'd ever seen, reflecting beautifully in the candlelight, shifting blue, then pearlescent, and back to green. It was breathtaking, and you fought back the tears gathering on your lower lashes so you could continue to gaze at it.

“Charlie, this is—” emotion stole your words, and all you could do was throw your arms around him and bury your face into his shoulder.

“I hope you love it, darling. Had it made just for you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Here, let me put it on you.”

You nodded, sitting up and trying to wipe your tears before his family could see what a mess you were, but when you looked around, you saw half of them crying too.

Molly blew you a kiss, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, and you nearly lost it again.

Charlie gently took the box from your hands and walked around behind the couch. His cool fingers grazed the sides of your throat and the weight of the pendant settled against your clavicle. A moment later, your heard the clasp click, and felt the warm brush of his lips on the back on your neck.

You fondled the pendant with your fingers, the metal already warming against your heated skin, the scale heavy and smooth. Charlie came back around to the front, eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he hummed, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

You grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Charlie.”

Thank you so much for reading!! (and if you have anything you'd like to read for Charlie, my asks are open!)

[lesbewriting]

breathless

[Sevika x Fem!Reader] [1.3k words]

SUMMARY: Sevika eats you out

WARNINGS: 18+ | Minors/Men DNI | basically no plot, just smut. Fingering, Dom!Sevika, Sub!Reader, pussy-eating, orgasm denial, teasing, begging, pleading.

A-N: 🤭 debated writing this for Ambessa at first. However, I hope y'all enjoy it. Also, I didn't know what to call this, lol.

[masterlist]

You groaned, and your breathing comes out in short, breathy moans. Legs shaking, almost uncontrollably at the contact your girlfriend, Sevika made between your very thighs. 

The dark-skinned woman, lapped up at the juices surrounding your pussy from below, her tongue swirling around your clit. Savouring each and every taste that she got from you. She eats at your soaking wet cunt, as if she's not eaten in weeks, as if she’s starved of food. 

“Sev!” It slips from your lips in a strangled whine. 

“Sev!” Again. It comes out louder this time, and with each call, it sounds like pure music to Sevika’s ears. Which only furthers her work on your lower half. 

You soon allow your head to fall back against the covers of your guys’ shared bed, eyes roll to the back of your head at the wonderful sensation. Pure bliss has overtaken every sense of your body. 

You always knew how well, how good she was at pleasing you. At making you cum, with whatever she did when with you. At making you scream, and yell her name.

It was the way her fingers stretched open your pussy further with each digit that would get inserted inside. The way they pumped in between your wet folds haphazardly keeping at a fast and almost-steady pace. No means, or plans of stopping anytime soon. 

Your hands entwined themselves between the dark hair strands of her hair, pulling at a clump of it. The coil inside your stomach strengthens and tightens further, rapidly bringing you much closer to your climax, with every lick of her tongue dancing over your folds. 

You gasp. 

You groan. 

Your pants are hurried, as Sevika clutches at your thighs from where she is kneeling between them. The tips of her fingers kneading at the pudginess of them, in almost harsh but soothing motions.  Her tongue. It slides in, and it slides out. Rubbing against the walls of your sensitive cunt. And it feels amazing. 

Oh, it feels amazing. 

Sevika pulls back for a moment. Eyes scanning up to you above her, and she stares your form down. The dazed look in your features as you clench your legs together with every feeling she brings down upon you. 

“Doing so good for me, baby, you're doing so well.” She praises you, and you attempt at a nod because that's all you can think to do rationally right now. When she has you in this headspace. In subspace. 

“Sev…keep..” You manage to squeak out, desperate, almost pleading. You weren't done. Of course you weren't. The coil inside was still at large. You hadn't cum, not yet, but yet you were close. Very close to doing so.

Sevika let out a hum in acknowledgement, before she's moving a single finger to your sopping wet cunt again. It begins circling the sensitive area, teasing, and teasing. 

“You close, baby?” She asks, keeping at the teasing, her finger repeats its earlier movements. Poking at the opening of your cunt, but not yet entering. “How close?” 

You only whine at the feeling of her fingers. Your legs clench as you still feel it inside your stomach. Your breath hitching a touch, wanting her. No, you need her further. 

“Al—almost…need…Sev!” You let out, whining, and attempt to buck and subtly move your hips. You needed as much friction as you possibly could get, so you could finish. 

Your attempts, however, are halted as you feel a new squeeze on one thigh. Sevika’s prosthetic arm, gripping tighter, forcing you to stop whatever movement you'd previously had going on. It was apparent to you that she wasn't going to let you cum that easily. 

Sevika shakes her head, giving the same thigh one more squeeze, before she speaks: 

“No, not yet, baby, I want you to beg for it.” The corners of her lips tilt into a small smirk, and she traces her finger again over your pussy. “Why should I let you cum? Hmm?” 

You knew Sevika wasn't going to let up on the teasing anytime soon. Which annoyed you, and it was evident on your features that it did. Something that only made her smirk deepen at the knowledge that she was getting to you.

She had you right in the palm of her hand, and she was enjoying seeing you writhe and struggle helplessly under her touch. It was only a matter of time before you gave in, and you begged for that release. Pleaded for her to stop her teasing and shove her finger inside your folds once more till you came.

“Perhaps, I should just leave you here, on the verge…waiting for that moment to finally cum.” She almost-whispers to you, through her deepened smirk. Her finger still hadn't halted with its teasing movements over your pussy. “Would you like that, baby?” 

You shake your head rapidly, another whine, slipping through your lips. No, you didn't want that. Of course you didn't. That was, hell, this was already torture.

“No, pl—please, Sev.” You plead, your words coming out in whines. As you bring your head back from where it lay and stare at her. 

Sevika doesn't say anything. She only keeps her smirk. Rubbing faster at the outside of your pussy. Her intention, to see how far she can push you. How long till you're a babbling mess under her, practically putty, begging for that sweet sensation of release you crave. 

And she does. She keeps at her movements. Finger dancing across your cunt. Eyes staring into you, with that stupid smirk, you're starting to hate on her. Waiting, and waiting. 

“Please! Sev! I need—I'm so—” You choke out, feeling tears now prickling at the back of your eyelids. The torturous rubbing of her against you, it brings you into a frenzy of hurried gasps, pleads, and whines. 

You're desperate. So desperate. It was infuriating how much she was dragging this on and refusing to let you come. 

So you beg, you beg, and you beg again. Tears slip from your eyes and fall down your cheeks. Turning you into an absolute fool for her, waiting on her to let you cum finally. 

Sevika only states at you for a moment, as if calculating something, leaving a sudden silence lingering in the air. Well, besides the sobbing and whines escaping your lips.

“Alright then, baby, you want to come? Do you?” She says, cutting through that prior silence. Her finger now halts before it slips carefully inside your tight hole. 

Through your tears, you let out a groan, and it's loud, with the sudden entrance. But you’re stopped when you feel Sevika adding in a second finger right after. 

“Then I'll let you come. Come for me.” She says once more and thrusts her fingers inside you. Rubbing up the sides of your wet cunt. Tightening that coil up inside of your stomach, with each rabid thrust. 

And she picks up her pace, with each gasp of her name that exits from your lips. Your legs begin to shake aggressively from the pleasure of her inside you, as each movement continues to bring you further towards the edge. 

Almost there. 

You were almost there. 

Sevika's two fingers are aggressively pounding into your soaking cunt. Determination in her gaze, as she stares at you, in order to bring you to finish. 

Then it happens. 

With one final thrust of her fingers, you feel yourself letting go. Your legs shake uncontrollably once more, as you release. You groan, and you groan. 

Your head falls back upon the bed, behind you. The climax you so craved, it's finally here. And it feels so good, when it washes over your entire being, and spills from your wet cunt, straight over Sevika's fingers still inside you, when it exits and sprays onto the sheets below you. 

It soaks through the fabric, as the after effects of hitting your limit leaves you panting and breathless. 

[violetflowers55]

Burning Fire - Oneshot

(crime boss! Dr. Phosphorus x fem!reader)

Synopsis: For a crime lord, Phosphorus works far more than you’d expect. So, you find a way to entertain yourself while he works…only you get way more than you bargained for. (smut, no plot)

CW: cockwarming, slapping (ass and face), domination, overstimulation, heat kink, burning

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

It had been your idea. You hated not being able to get close to him while he was working. For a crime lord, Phosphorus worked far too much for your liking, and you wanted him all the time. Now that you had been sitting idly in his lap for twenty minutes, you were starting to get even more impatient.

Your whole body was warm. The feeling of his full length inside you, unmoving, was getting to be almost unbearable. The fact that neither of his hands were touching you made it worse. Behind you, he was on a phone call, arguing over his drug business. It wasn’t something you fully understood, and in this moment, you had no desire to learn. All you wanted was his full attention.

The other person on the call must have said something wrong because Phosphorus suddenly started shouting. You felt him heat up inside you as his anger grew. He animatedly threatened to kill the person if they didn’t get his shit to him fast, slamming his free hand down on the desk beside you. The slight movements after being still for so long sent jolts of electricity through your body. You groaned and bounced slightly, desperate for more. Phosphorus hung up and leaned into your neck, placing his hands on your hips.

“You said you could sit still and be patient,” he murmured in your ear.

“But it’s been so long,” you whined. Phosphorus chuckled, his hot breath on your neck sending tingles down your spine.

“Patience, dollface.”

You groaned and bent forward, laying your head on his desk as he took another call. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take this. It felt so good to have his cock inside you, filling you up. At first, that had been enough, but now you wanted, no, needed more.

A dangerous idea popped into your head. Phosphorus would be pissed, but you’d get what you needed. He laughed behind you, ticking you off. He was laughing while you were on top of him, naked, prime for the taking. Nervous butterflies swirled in your stomach as you decided to go through with it. You lifted your hips up and down, a sigh that turned into moans escaping you as you pleasured yourself on him. You arched your back, giving him a better view of your figure. He heated up beneath you and let out his own moan.

“I’m gonna have to call you back.”

You laughed slightly at him hanging up his call. He placed his hands on your ass, squeezing and burning your skin. Just as you started to pick up your pace, he stood up, pushing your hips into the desk. You gasped as he gripped your hair and pressed your face sideways on the hard wood.

“You’re going to regret that,” Phosphorous rasped into your ear.

Before you could respond, he gave your ass a hard slap and started pounded into you. Each thrust shook your body, slamming you into the desk repeatedly. You moaned and cried out, overwhelmed by the sudden movement. Still holding onto your hair, he slid his other hand between your legs. His fingers rubbed quick circles over your clit, the hotness of his hand only intensifying your pleasure.

“Phosphorous, fuck, I-I can’t-“ you cried out, succumbing to intense lightening shooting through your body. You gripped the desk as you tightened around him, liquid dripping down your legs.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he growled in your ear, “You interrupted my phone call for this, so you can and you will.”

Even as you came, he didn’t slow down. He hammered into you relentlessly, fast and hard. He let up on your clit, giving you a moment of slight relief before he began slapping your ass again. Each strike sent shockwaves through your body. You pleaded his name over and over again, unable to think of anything else.

“Phos-Phosphorus, fuck, Phosphorus.”

Tangling his hand in your hair, he pulled you up from the desk. You cried out from the feeling of him pulling your hair. He gave your ass another sharp smack before sliding his hand up your body to your throat. His hand slightly burned as he squeezed - hard enough to excite you, but light enough to still let you breathe. He groaned into your ear and pushed his whole length into you, filling you up to the hilt.

“Who’s pussy is this?” he grunted, holding his position deep inside you.

“Ah-yours!” you cried out, almost overwhelmed by all the sensations coursing through you. He snapped his hips, roughly thrusting into you once.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You! Yours, I-I’m yours, I’m yours,” you whimpered. He squeezed your throat tighter, making you gasp for air.

“Then come for me,” he commanded, resuming his merciless rhythm.

You cried out from the sudden stimulation, involuntarily obeying him. Stars crossed your vision as you released. Phosphorus let go of your head and throat, momentarily pulling out to flip you over. He lifted your legs up onto his shoulders and buried himself in you again. His one hand cupped your breast, teasing your nipple, while the other held your chin.

“Phos-fuck, oh God, Phosphorus,” you babbled as he fucked you, slow but deep.

He leaned down, stopping when his face was only an inch from yours. The heat radiating off him combined with breathing in each other’s air was intoxicating.

“I wanted to see how pretty you look when you screaming my name,” he murmured, holding your face so you were forced to look in his eyes.

He picked up his pace, the sound of him pounding your dripping cunt filling the room. You started to moan even more, but he closed the gap between you, swallowing your moan with his lips. He kissed you sloppily and passionately, the two of you moaning into each other’s mouths. His tongue swirled around yours while his fingers continued playing with your nipple. You wrapped your arms around his neck, digging your nails into his jacket, desperate for something to hold on to as you felt another climax rising.

He pulled back from your lips to watch as you cried out his name. You pulsed around him, the world around you shattering. He groaned in response, pounding into you even faster.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he gasped into your ear.

All you could do was make incoherent noises. Every thrust felt like it might send you over the edge again. You felt so tender, yet you didn’t want him to stop. Him using you, rutting into you like an animal, was the only thing that existed to you.

A hot, sharp sting across your face brought you back. Right as you realized what had happened, Phosphorus slapped you again, slamming deep into you simultaneously for good measure.

“Don’t tell me you’re overstimulated already, baby,” he said huskily, gripping your throat again, “I’ve only just started.”

He mercifully slowed down, opting for slow and deep movements. You could feel every inch of him as he moved in and out, each pump eliciting more moans from you. His other hand slid down your body, landing on your swollen nub. He drew lazy circles over it, and you gasped and trembled with each one.

“You like that, dollface, hm?”

You whimpered beneath him and tried to nod. The waves of pleasure coursing through you were growing, threatening to overwhelm you again. He gripped your throat tighter and sped up rubbing your clit.

“Say it,” he croaked, “tell me how much you love my cock inside you.”

“I love it, I love it, I l-love your, ah! cock in-in me, oh God!” you cried out.

He heated up from your words and pounded into you frantically. He groaned into your ear, sending tingles down your neck. The sound of you screaming his name filled the room. Your walls spasmed around him, liquid spilling out of you as you hit your peak.

“God, I love feeling you come on me,” Phosphorous said in a strangled voice.

His fingers released your clit, instead digging into your hip, burning your skin. His movements became sloppier and faster, his breath getting more ragged as he reached his own climax. You felt his hot cum spill into you as he slammed into you once, then twice, sending you over the edge again.

He collapsed onto your chest, still inside you as he tried to catch his breath. When he finally pulled out, you felt empty. He threaded his fingers through your hair and gently trailed kisses down your neck.

“Mm, Phosphorus,” you murmured, comfortably wrapping your arms around him. He picked up his head to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“You were so good for me baby,” he cooed, cupping your cheek. A giddy smile spread across your face.

The phone he had cast aside rang, its high pitch breaking your bliss. He hung his head and groaned, flopping back onto his chair. You whimpered, giving him your best doe eyes. Seeing you, he soundlessly laughed, but he still picked up the phone. He held a finger up to your lips before answering the call.

“No distractions this time.”

[notapradagurl7]

The Return.

Black Fem! Reader x Unique!husband.

Summary: After six months of his recovery from the brutal beating from his brother, Ronnie and finally getting everything back, the first thing Unique does is return home to you. You almost couldn't believe it but your husband was alive.

A/N: Here’s something cute about Unique, enjoy! ❤️ don’t forget to reblog, comment and like to support, remember don’t be afraid to send in a request they’re always open.

Warnings: angst, praise, rough sex, biting, spanking, consensual intimacy, use of AAVE, mention of violence, established marriage, hair pulling.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @dabratzchronicles

@becauseimswagman1

@cocooned-butterfly @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @henneseyhoe

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @siqueth @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @jazziejax @ranikyani @naj-ay444

@uniqueoutlierblog @mama-2001

@fakxmbj @kaylalb @theereina @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @kumkaniudaku @ranikyani @luckydaye777 @foxybrownsugababe @caashmoneynae

————

Southside, Jamaica Queens. ‘93

His snow-white polished Beamer gently rolled onto the driveway of your house, with his deep brown eyes locked onto the familiar beige interior of it, the small windows covered by black curtains spanned across it, and small green bushes cornered the sides of the house.

Beloved memories of you and him remained in his mind, choosing to keep them as close as possible.

He killed the engine, the low rumble fading into an unsettling silence as he reached for the door handle. Outside, Unique stepped out cautiously, a tight grip around his emotions in the forceful slam of the door.

There he was in the flesh, Kadeem “Unique” Mathis. The man came from the dead, the man took over the corners of Queens. Asserting his control over the streets, putting the fear back in people who looked his way, or even walked the same street as him.

The soles of his beige timberlands clicked sharply against the uneven cobblestones, each step echoing into the night as he made his way toward the front door of the black lumber, its dark facade looming like a shadow.

Unique paused before the door, drawing in a shaky breath that felt heavy in his lungs. He exhaled softly, feeling the anxiety creeping around him like a tightening fog, his mind a frantic whirlpool of anxious thoughts.

His thoughts, distorted and fragmented, raced to piece together the chaotic reality surrounding him. He focused, forcing himself to latch onto the crucial details of the moment, and despite the turmoil, he found clarity.

He had severed Raquel’s connect to her drug supply, dismantling the very foundation of her business. The gravity of his actions settled heavily upon him and in the heart of Queens, intertwining with the sharpness of his thoughts.

His hand reached out, and hovering over the doorknob.

Why was he so nervous?

Unique suffered a brutal beating from his brother, Ronnie who bashed his head in with a steel pipe. After that, Unique crawled himself out of the woods, and called Early Tyler to save him that looming night.

The scars were still on the right of his head, but he didn't let it break him. Unique wanted to those scars to be a reminder of how resilient he was, and how he fought to survive.

But still, Unique wished a thousand times for it to only be him to kill Ronnie instead of Kanan, to be the one to end the madness on his own.

Ever since that night, Unique made it his mission to recover, and worked his way up. Ronnie was dead, and his enemy Raquel was still fighting hard and strong to get her spot back.

For the first time, Unique was nervous about revealing himself to you. He imagined the scenario in his head so many times, knowing that you would cry, possibly scream as if you saw a ghost. Or you would just hug him.

Words couldn't even explain how much he missed your presence, your laugh, your smile and everything else about you.

He missed you so much.

Without hesitation, he knocked on the door twice. He heard the footsteps approaching the door, Unique exhaled softly, relishing to still feel the oxygen in his lungs.

“Who the fuck is it—” You yelled but the moment you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat.

There he was, the man you thought you’d lost forever. He sported a black and red

Unique stood there, looking just as handsome as ever, with that charming smirk playing on his lips, those familiar top-row gold grills glistened, but the wear of battle lingered in his eyes.

“What’s up Y/N?” he breathed, his voice low and rough, the sound washing over you like a warm wave.

“Kadeem? Baby, is that really you?” You stepped back, disbelief coloring your voice.

“Yeah, baby, it’s me. I'm home,” He took a step forward, and the way his eyes locked onto yours made your heart race.

You stepped aside, as he walked inside the house and he closed the door behind himself, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. The scent of lavender and peppermint filled his nostrils.

Unique sported a red and black satin bomber jacket, underneath a crisp white tee shirt that hugged his toned chest. His dark pants tapered down to the fresh white sneakers, you could see the gleam of gold chains layered around his neck and his right ear was adorned with a gold hoop earring.

You noticed the way his hair was freshly styled, the curls cropped close but still showing off the texture.

“Home?” You whispered, shaking your head, tears falling from your eyes. Your husband wiped your tears away.

“Damn right I am, missed you like crazy, baby girl,” he said, a playful glint in his gaze.

You didn’t waste a second; you flung yourself into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you. “I thought I lost you for good, the police told me that your body was gone,” you sobbed, holding onto him tightly, as if you were afraid he would disappear again.

“Never, I ain’t goin’ nowhere, and I promise I’m here to stay. You know that?” Unique murmured into your locs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and lips.

You pulled back to look into his eyes, the scars on his head made your eyes flick toward it. “Ronnie did this to you? I heard he was dead but you look different…I mean, the scars…”

“Yeah, they remind me of where I been, but Ronnie ain’t break me,” he said, brushing your fingers over the scar on his head.

You nodded, feeling a swell of pride for the man in front of you. “I’m just glad you’re alive, Unique. I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, baby,” he said, his voice softening. “Now, come here.” He pulled you close again, holding you tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.

“Let’s get you something to eat, I made dinner, but you can get some sleep and you must be tired,” you replied, trying to regain your composure.

“I ain’t tired, but I’m hungry for you,” he teased, a mischievous smirk on his face. “But I’ll take your love too, that’s my favorite dish.”

You laughed, a light sound that felt foreign after all the worry and dread of the past months. “You always know how to lighten the mood, huh?”

“Only for you, baby. I got time today and I got a lotta love to give, and I’m ready to show you just how much I love you,” he smirked, he leaned closer.

You felt your cheeks heat up, the emotion in the room shifting filled the air. “Unique. I want you.”

“Good,” he smirked, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

He leaned down, smashing your lips. You melted into his lips by kissing him back, your hands gripped his arms as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his pent-up longing into that moment.

“Damn, I missed you,” he murmured against your lips, his hands roaming your waist, pulling you closer.

“Can I ask you something Kadeem?”

He nodded in response, waiting for you to speak. “Of course you can, beautiful,” he said. You exhaled before looking up at his eyes, your hand rested against his cheek.

“Were you giving me money in my mailbox in those past months?”

“Yes, it was me. I wanted to provide you while I was layin’ low, it killed me that I wasn't there for you, Y/N,” Unique confessed to you.

“I knew that I wasn't losin’ my mind, because I knew that it wasn't Raquel sending me that shit, it was you, baby,” You smirked with light chuckle.

“Baby,” you breathed, feeling the heat between you. “You have no idea how scared I was. I couldn’t—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, placing a finger over your lips. “Ain’t no need to dwell on the past, baby. We here now, and I’m makin’ sure you know how much I love you.”

With quickness, he swept you off your feet, carrying you into the room, the door slamming shut behind you. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kicked off his boots, the warmth of his body against yours.

“Now, let’s make up for lost time, yeah?” he said, setting you down on the bed. His lips ghosting over yours, peppering kisses along your lips.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” you replied, pulling him down for another kiss, taking off your clothes as he did the same.

The two of you were laid against each other naked, he hovered you and your melanated skin was kissed tenderly as he gently spread your legs apart. He looked down at you, and kissed you again but it was passionately.

With a gentle thrust, he filled you up completely and you moaned wildly, you immediately broke the kiss as he began thrusting at a faster pace, Unique still remembered how you liked it in the bedroom with him, the thickness of his dick pulsed inside you. He felt so good, “Oh..fuck!” you mewled, nails scratching at his back.

Burying his face into the warmth of your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin. Leaving hickeys in his path, Unique wanted you to feel every inch of him as if it was the first time, not the last time. “I missed you so fuckin’ much, I'm sorry, I love you,” he groaned, pulling away to look away.

“Kadeem, don't be sorry…i love you too,” You gasped sharply, your nails digging into his shoulder. Unique brought his body closer to yours to feel more of that heat, each thrust made your body quiver and twitch.

Your wetness created a pool in his lap. “Damn girl,” he grunted lowly, reaching out for your breasts and fondling them, It felt like a dream come true to him, to be finally reunited with you.

The bed creaked underneath both of you adding to the intensity of the sound of your ass clapping against his thighs, “So fucking..good,” You panted, eyelids closing shut, the cold metal of his rings made your nipples erect, and you let out a unrecognizable moan.

He fisted your locs in his hand and pulled you back in a sloppy kiss, deepening the kiss again as you responded by tangling your tongue with his, “Good girl,” he murmured against your lips, thrusting more forcefully.

The way your pussy made his dick disappear ever so perfectly elicited low groans from him, He continued to thrust into you forcefully causing your essence to pour out, each stroke fast and filled with passion. “Look at you, that pussy cummin’ already?” he teased, His hand wrapped around your neck, forcing you to look at him, grinning evilly at your reaction.

He loved the way you responded to him, the way your hips moved in rhythm with his. Unique had missed this—missed you—more than he could ever put into words. His hand delivered a rough smack onto your ass, “Y-yes! I'm cumming!”

You felt the wave of pleasure crash over you, your body trembling beneath him, your essence pouring onto his dick as you cried out his name. Unique followed suit, his warm cun spilling into you as he groaned your name. He kissed the side of your face, before he kissed your lips again.

“Damn, baby,” he panted, collapsing onto the bed beside you, both of you gasping for breath. You turned to face him, a soft smile gracing your lips as you traced the outline of his jaw with your fingers. “I missed you.”

Unique turned to you, his eyes softening as he pulled you close. “I missed you too.”

“I don’t want to ever lose you again, Unique. Promise me you’ll always come back to me,” you murmured, your heart aching at the thought of being separated again.

“I promise, baby,” he replied, his voice steady and filled with sincerity.

As you nestled into his side, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the pain of losing him was finally gone, he was here. “Now, let’s get some sleep, and in the morning,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You nodded, feeling safe and content as you drifted off to sleep in the arms of the man you loved. He brought the blanket close to your bodies before falling asleep next to you.

————-

[delulugirlulu]

Panties & Pretense | One Shot

Characters - Choso x Reader, Choso x Y/N

Word Count - 3,034

A/N - I finally have time to write shit now. I haven't finished the Sylus one, I mean it is finished (need proofreading still) but I still have to add the epilogue to the story to wrap it up it lmao (╥﹏╥) For the meantime, have this Choso one shot ( ¯ ³¯)♡

And now, the story...

Choso had always been shy and gentle, a sweet soul through and through. So, when Y/N's favorite panties went missing, she didn’t think much of it. Still, she figured she’d ask if he had seen them. Walking into the bedroom, she called out, “Hey, have you seen those black p—” but the words died on her lips.

Her boyfriend was sprawled out on the bed, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself while burying his face in her panties. He hadn’t even noticed her come in. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him from the corner with a raised brow.

A slow smirk tugged at her lips. “My baby’s not so shy and sweet now, huh?” Her teasing tone filled the room as she leaned against the doorframe, eyes locked on him. She was only wearing an oversized shirt—his shirt—with nothing but panties underneath. No bra.

Choso jolted upright. “Ah! Y/N!” His entire body tensed as he scrambled to shove the stolen panties under the pillow, his face burning red. He grabbed the blanket, trying to cover himself up, but there was no hiding the way his cock still stood hard, twitching from being caught. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes darting between her and the doorway. “I… I didn’t hear you come in,” he muttered, voice shaky. He tried to think of an excuse, but with the way her shirt clung to her, nipples faintly visible through the fabric, his brain short-circuited. “I was just… uh…”

Her smirk widened. Pushing off the doorframe, she stood straight, the shift making her shirt rise slightly, exposing more of her thighs. “You were just what, baby?” She feigned innocence, watching his panicked state with amusement. He was cute like this. Embarrassed. Caught. And completely at her mercy.

Then, she tilted her head. “Oh right… jerking off.” Her tone dripped with sarcastic sweetness. “Why’d you stop? I didn’t say you should stop.”

She leaned back against the doorframe again, her voice smooth and commanding. “Go on. Remove the blanket. Keep touching yourself with my panties.”

Choso’s eyes widened further, disbelief flickering across his face. He hesitated, unsure if she was serious or just messing with him—but the way she spoke, firm and unwavering, sent a thrill through him. His breath hitched as he slowly peeled the blanket away, revealing his cock, still hard and leaking precum. He gripped the stolen fabric again, fingers tightening around it before bringing it back to his face.

“Like this?” he asked, voice laced with desperation, with need. His eyes stayed on her, watching for her reaction, drinking in the way she looked at him.

Her scent filled his lungs, and he groaned lowly, stroking himself again. His breath came out shaky, pleasure curling in his gut. “You know, Y/N… these panties are so soft… and they smell so fucking good.” His words came out in a breathy moan, his grip tightening as he lost himself in her presence, in her permission.

Still leaning against the doorframe, she smirked, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. “Yes, just like that, baby.” Her voice carried a teasing lilt, a mix of condescension and encouragement. “Do they smell good? Do you like how I smell?”

She tilted her head slightly, watching him with amusement. “It’s probably because I was so wet wearing those panties… from how turned on I was before we fucked the other day.” She recounted the memory smugly, her own arousal stirring as she watched her boyfriend stroke himself.

Choso nodded eagerly, his eyes locked onto her face. He loved hearing her talk dirty—it made him feel wanted, needed. His strokes grew faster, the black scar across his nose standing out even more as he bit his lip to stifle a moan. “Yeah, Y/N… they smell so fucking good. Just like you." His voice came out strained, thick with desire. He could feel his orgasm creeping closer, but he held back, waiting—needing—her permission. His gaze turned pleading as he swallowed hard. “Can I taste you again?” His voice was low, husky, desperate.

She shook her head. “No, you can’t.” But then, she trailed off, pushing herself off the doorframe. Dragging her gaming chair to the end of the bed, she positioned it deliberately before sinking into the seat, facing him with a wicked smirk. “But… you can watch.”

Settling in, she slowly parted her legs, resting her calves on opposite armrests, completely exposed to his hungry gaze. “Touch me, and all of this stops.” Her voice was mockingly sweet yet commanding as she gestured between them. “Okay, baby?”

Her middle and ring finger traced over the thin fabric of her panties, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against herself.

Choso’s eyes darkened with pure hunger, his grip tightening around his cock as he watched her spread herself open for him. The damp spot on her panties made his length twitch in his hand, his restraint hanging by a thread. He wanted—needed—to bury his face between her thighs, to taste the heat he was denied. But he knew the rules. He swallowed hard, exhaling shakily as he resumed stroking himself, forcing himself to obey.

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was barely above a whisper, wrecked and full of want. He pumped himself faster, his gaze fixated on the way her fingers moved. He imagined it was his tongue instead, lapping at her through the soaked fabric. A groan slipped past his lips as he fought to hold back. “You look so fucking sexy, Y/N… I wish I could—fuck—I wish I could touch you right now.” His voice shook with need, his breathing uneven as he edged closer.

Her smirk deepened. “Don’t forget to use my panties, baby.” The sweet mockery in her tone sent a shiver down his spine as she pressed her fingers harder against her clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles.

“Fuck…” A moan spilled from her lips as she leaned back, her chest rising and falling with each breath, nipples straining against the oversized shirt—his shirt.

His eyes stayed locked on her fingers as they moved over her covered clit, a low growl of frustration slipping from his throat. Bringing the panties back to his face, he inhaled deeply, then lowered them to his cock, wrapping the soft fabric around his length. He stroked himself roughly, his muscles tensing, breaths turning ragged as he watched her pleasure herself. He wanted—no, needed—to be the one making her feel that way, but for now, this would have to do. A bead of precum rolled down his shaft, soaking into the already-damp material.

“Fuck, Y/N… you’re driving me crazy,” he moaned, his hips jerking slightly as he pumped himself faster. The thought of cumming on her panties while she watched sent heat rushing through his veins, but he forced himself to hold back. He needed her to finish first.

She met his gaze with half-lidded eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. “And you look hot touching yourself like that because of me.” Her voice dripped with arousal before she moaned, sliding her panties to the side to reveal her glistening cunt. Slowly, she pushed two fingers inside, a sharp breath escaping her lips.

“Oh shit…” she muttered, brows furrowing as pleasure rippled through her. Her other hand moved to her clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made her head roll back against the chair. “Oh fuck…” she moaned through gritted teeth, her body tensing at the sheer intensity of it all—watching Choso pleasure himself while he watched her do the same.

The sight of her, fully exposed and touching herself so shamelessly, sent a jolt straight to Choso’s cock. He bit his lip hard, barely stopping himself from spilling right then and there. His gaze fixated on her dripping cunt, remembering the way it felt wrapped around him, squeezing him tight. He wanted to replace her fingers with his own, to spread her open and fuck her properly, but all he could do was watch. His grip tightened around his cock, stroking faster, the friction of her panties pushing him closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, Y/N… I want to see you lose control,” he gritted out, his voice strained, hips bucking into his hand as the pressure built unbearably.

“Not yet.” Her moan was a breathy defiance. Shifting in her seat, she hooked her fingers under her panties and slid them off, tossing them at him.

Now he had two of them.

She sank back into the chair, spreading her legs just as wide as before, her feet dangling on opposite armrests, fully on display. Her voice dipped into a sultry hum. “We’ll cum together, Choso.”

Then, with no hesitation, her fingers were back inside her, moving in and out, her other hand pushing up his oversized shirt to bare her breasts completely. With her wet fingers, she rolled and pinched her nipples, putting on a show just for him.

“Fuck…” she moaned, her back arching, fingers plunging deeper, the slick sounds of her movements filling the air. Each stroke, each rub, sent her spiraling, her body responding to the way he watched her, the way he groaned for her, the way he desperately held back—just for her.

Choso’s eyes widened when her panties hit his face, the scent of her arousal overwhelming his senses and making his cock throb painfully. He caught them quickly, bringing the fabric to his lips for another taste before wrapping them tightly around his shaft again. His strokes quickened, syncing with the rhythm of her fingers as he watched her pleasure herself with no shame. It was too much—he was aching to be inside her, to feel her, to lose himself completely in her warmth.

Desperate to muffle his moans, he grabbed one of the discarded panties, swiping it across his leaking cock before balling it up and shoving it into his mouth. His muffled groans filled the room as he devoured the sight of her, legs spread wide, fingers buried deep, completely lost in the pleasure he caused. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the way the fabric felt against his skin, the way her slick sounds filled his ears, the way her breath hitched with every stroke.

When he opened them again, his gaze locked onto hers—dark, needy, pleading. “Come on, baby… I want to see you cum,” he rasped, voice muffled around the soaked fabric between his lips.

She moaned, breathless, her body trembling as her pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “You look even hotter when you’re desperate,” she managed between moans, her fingers moving faster, thrusting deep, curling inside herself. Her other hand tugged at her nipple roughly, sending shockwaves through her body.

“Shit… I’m gonna cum soon, baby.” Her hips lifted off the chair, chasing her high, thighs twitching, her wetness glistening under the dim light. And then it hit—“Choso!” she cried out, her body tensing before unraveling completely. Her head fell back, toes curled, legs trembling as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Her juices dripped onto the leather seat as her fingers kept moving, dragging out every second of her orgasm.

Even as she squirmed, riding the aftershocks, her free hand dropped to her clit, giving it light slaps, sending jolts of overstimulation through her body. Biting her lip, she locked eyes with him, watching—commanding—him to follow.

The sight of her falling apart sent Choso over the edge. A guttural groan rumbled through him, his hips jerking wildly as his release surged forward. He came hard, his cock pulsing, thick ropes spilling into her panties, soaking them completely. His body tensed, muscles clenching as pleasure consumed him, his moans still muffled by the fabric in his mouth. But even through the blinding pleasure, he never looked away. He needed to see her, to watch her unravel, to know she was watching him too.

As his orgasm faded, he slowly pulled the panties from his mouth, panting, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “Fuck, Y/N… that was… incredible.” His body twitched slightly, the aftershocks still rolling through him.

She exhaled deeply, her fingers slipping from her drenched cunt with a wet sound. With lazy movements, she pulled his oversized shirt back down, covering just enough of herself while still leaving traces of her bare skin exposed.

“That was great… baby…” she murmured between deep breaths, her arms going limp at her sides as her head rested against the back of the chair. She shifted, one leg draped over the other, but her glistening cunt still peeked between her thighs, her release dripping onto the leather beneath her.

Choso's chest rose and fell as he watched her come down from her high, the sight of her flushed cheeks and dazed smile filling him with satisfaction. A hint of disappointment lingered—he hadn’t been inside her—but the intensity of what they’d just shared made up for it. Carefully, he set aside the cum-soaked panties, not wanting to let them fall carelessly to the floor. With a soft sigh, he sat up, his muscles flexing slightly under the dim lighting as he leaned forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from her damp cheek with the lightest touch.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with adoration.

Slowly, he stood up, his still semi-hard cock glistening with a mix of precum and sweat. His black hair hung in messy strands over his face, the scar on his nose more defined under the soft glow of the room. Lust and love swirled in his gaze as he looked down at her.

“Can I… clean up?” he asked, a bit shyly, nodding toward her cum-covered hand and the wet spot on the gaming chair, hoping she’d let him get closer.

She lazily dragged her gaze down to his semi-hard dick before looking up at him again. “Go ahead and clean up,” she said, still slightly breathless, spreading her legs a little more to give him access.

Choso let out a quiet hum, a small, content smile playing on his lips as he reached for a nearby towel. He started with her hand, wiping away the sticky evidence of her pleasure, his touch slow and gentle. Moving to the chair, he carefully cleaned the wet spot before kneeling in front of her. His eyes met hers as he brought the towel between her legs, the warmth of her skin radiating against his hand.

He wiped her with delicate strokes, careful not to press too hard against her sensitive flesh. But he couldn’t resist—his lips found the soft skin of her inner thigh, placing a lingering kiss there before murmuring, “All clean, baby.” His voice was quiet, filled with tenderness as he stood back up, his eyes soft with affection.

She watched him with a growing smile, her expression turning fond as she closed her legs and stood up. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed a sweet, lingering kiss on his lips.

“Thank you, baby,” she whispered before pulling away, her hands trailing down to take the towel from him. “Let me clean you up too.” A teasing glint danced in her eyes as she added, “Since you’ve been a good boy.” She chuckled softly before glancing down, wiping away the remnants of his release from his cock with slow, deliberate movements.

Choso let out a quiet sigh, his body relaxing at her touch. His heart swelled at her words, the praise making warmth spread through his chest. He stayed still, letting her take care of him, eyes filled with something deeper than just lust—something tender, something real.

When she finished, he took the towel from her and tossed it aside before pulling her into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around her securely as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply.

“I love you, Y/N. Thank you for… for everything,” he murmured against her skin, voice soft, almost vulnerable.

She nodded against him before sliding her arms around his waist. “I love you too, Choso,” she replied, resting in his hold for a moment. But then, with a cheeky grin, she pulled back slightly.

“Now come on and help me do the laundry.” She shot him a pointed look, reminding him of why she’d been looking for her panties in the first place—only to catch him using them. Before he could protest, she smacked his ass with both hands, giggling as she stepped back.

Choso groaned dramatically, flopping onto the bed. “Can’t we just… leave it for future us?.” She smirked, grabbing his wrist and tugging. “Nope. Future us will be even lazier.”

With a deep sigh, he let her pull him up, trailing after her as she carried the basket to the laundry room. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her sort the clothes, his lips quirking when she picked up his hoodie and inhaled it before deeming it still wearable.

“Busted,” he teased, stepping closer. “You always steal my hoodies.”

“And?” She shot him a look over her shoulder. “You steal my panties, so we’re even.” Choso chuckled, pressing himself against her back, arms wrapping around her waist. “Touché.”

They worked together, tossing clothes into the washer—though "working" was a loose term when Choso kept distracting her, draping a pair of boxers over her head like a hat, or dramatically gasping when he found her lacy bras. At one point, she threw a sock at his face, and he retaliated by smacking her with a damp towel.

Laughter filled the room, warmth settling between them in the quiet domesticity of it all. When the last load was in, Choso pulled her into a hug, his chin resting on her shoulder. “Laundry’s not so bad when I get to do it with you,” he murmured, voice soft, filled with something deeper than just amusement.

She hummed, leaning into him, her fingers lacing through his. “Yeah, yeah. Now help me fold, you sap.”

He grinned, kissing her temple before grabbing a pile of clothes, “Guess that means you’re stuck with me, huh?” She smirked, bumping her hip against his. “Always.”

And with that, the night carried on—soft, familiar, and undeniably theirs.

[vhagarsattorney]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61001011/chapters/155836708

I finally had time to proofread and edit I'll Be Seein' You, a double shot Tom Bennett x fem!Reader. Part 2 will follow shortly. I really want to write a longer fic exploring Tom's character and dynamics. The show gave us so little but Ewan gave us soooo much!

[fvck-the-rest]

Sweet

Gojo x female! reader

word count: 719

\warnings\ mdni, smut, p n v, unprotected (wrap it before you take it), nipple play, hickies, riding, light biting, Gojo has a praise kink

request are open!

Rocking your hips on top of him, hands grabbing at you and his ping move you to his pace. Grabbing his shoulders for support, not used to his size just yet, but the man under you shows no mercy towards you or your struggle. Soon starting to rock you faster. 

“You feel so good, it is almost unfair how good it feels” he breathed out, his pupils diluted to the size of a sun, his blue eyes shining brighter than they ever have before. 

He couldn’t take it anymore, he flipped you over onto your back. His hand moving away from your waist, running them up your body to your breast. Grabbing and massaging them. He connects his mouth to the bottom of them, sucking and biting to leave a bruise in the place. Moving to the other one he put a matching one in the same place. Now wrapping his mouth around your left nipple he begins to suck and toy with it using his tongue. Flicking the muscle around it and around it, letting out moans and grunts, all while still slowly going in and out of your needy hole. Moans coming from the both of you. 

 Moving up more he begins to bite and kiss at your neck and shoulders now moving faster in and out of you, grunting with every thrust. 

“Oh my, you're so sweet, I would  give up every sweet in the world to have this anytime I want something sweet.” he purred into your ear, getting you closer and closer to reaching your high./ At this point in the night you had no idea what was going on, what was being said.  Only knowing what that man on top of you is doing to you and how good he was making you feel. 

Moaning and whispering his name only increased his need more, biting down on your neck a little harder, leaving a small mark in its place. Moving his hands from your breasts back down to your waist, grabbing at them hard and moving against him, moving in and out of you at a place that only he could achieve. Grunts and moans were let off from the both of you until it was becoming too much for you to handle, whispering that you were getting close and begging him to go faster. But who was he to deny you anything, his sweet love, he did as you said, please you hear that he was making you feel so good. Your moaning in his ear adds to his own high, allowing him to reach his high at the same time as you, pulling out of you and letting it out on your stomach. 

Standing to get a towel to clean your stomach, whipping it clean. Trying to get up yourself and take a shower and clean yourself more probably. But the white haired man wasn’t done with you just yet, grabbing you and putting you back on the bed. He moved to be between your legs, spreading them wide, he bargained to bite and suck at your thighs, leaving even more hikings on you, while also claiming that he needed to make sure that you were marked so everyone knows that you belong to him. 

Lapping and kissing you warmth, he felt like he was in heaven with the noises you were making and the praise leaving your lips only for him to hear you say. He was pleased for how sweet you were, doing every little thing he knew you liked, soon having you reach your high again, thighs wrapping around his head and hair warped in your fingers. 

Letting you ride your high on his face, he sat up and licked his lips, looking at the fucked out face you had. 

“So very sweet for me, you know that? But now let's get you cleaned up and get some rest.”, he said while bringing you up off the bed and towards the bathroom. 

He oh so badly wanted to tell you even more things, but no matter what he said you weren’t  going to remember it, and how badly he wanted to go another round he knew you couldn't take it in the state you were in. He wanted to ruin his teeth with how sweet you are. 

[agreeewrites]

Best Friends Brother ⊹ . + °

feat. Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

summary: You are Fred & George’s best friend, and meet their mysterious older brother, Charlie, at a product launch at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

cw: MDNI 18+ smut with basically zero plot. charlie has an absolutely filthy mouth. no war (or light war? idk, everyone is alive)

an: this was supposed to be a casual hook up when I initially planned it, but the dick was so good they fell in love ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

part two | masterlist

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes had a line around the building, hopeful witches and wizards desperate to get a glimpse of the Weasley twin’s newest product. You strolled past them in your mini dress and tights, more than a little chuffed by their jealous glares.

The doors were locked, blocked off with enchanted rope, but when Fred spotted you through the window, he ran to unlock the doors.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it. Georgie, looks who’s here!” Fred slung an arm over your shoulders and ushered you into the store. It was the cleanest you’d ever seen it, with streamers and lights strung everywhere, and a long table loaded with food and drink.

“Y/n!” George shouted, popping up from behind the register. Both of them were dressed in freshly pressed brown suits, looking exceptionally dapper. He came aroud the counter and pulled you into a hug. “Thanks for coming out.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you grinned up at them, pride filling your chest. You’d been close with the twins for years, a friendship that started in school and only grew in adulthood, since you worked a few doors down at Honeydukes.

“Come, you have to meet our family!” They ushered you upstairs, where a dozen or so people waited, several faces were familiar, some were not.

“You remember Harry, Ron, and Ginny,” George said, and you greeted them all with a wave.

“And our parents, Molly and Arthur,” Fred continued.

“Oh, y/n! How lovely to see you!” Molly cooed, pulling you into a rib-cracking hug. “My, what a beautiful young lady you’ve grown into.” She pinched you cheek, and heat scorched your face.

“And this is our older brother’s Percy, Charlie, and Bill. And Bill’s wife, Fleur.”

You turned to the trio of men hovering by the bookcases, and nearly tripped over your heels. Percy, you remembered from school, Fleur as well, and Bill was too busy gazing down at her blonde head to glance your way. But Charlie. He stared straight through you, his dark eyes swallowing you whole.

“Pleasure,” Charlie said, his voice honeyed and deep. He was shorter that Percy beside him, but muscular enough that the maroon blazer he wore seemed a little stretched at the shoulders. His white button down shirt beneath it was tailored perfectly to fit across his wide chest and taper at his defined waist. Freckles kissed his cheeks and forehead, his skin a shade tanner than his siblings, though he shared their ginger hair, mid-length and wavy.

“Hello,” you managed, giving him a small smile. But before you could engage further, George whisked you away.

“It’s tiiiime!” Fred shouted, waving his wand, and the doors burst open.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

As the event raged on, you found yourself drawn to Charlie’s orbit, watching as he mingled with guests and chatted with his family. He seemed to draw a lot of attention, what with his rugged good looks and the fact that he was a dragon trainer. It seemed everyone wanted a sliver of Charlie Weasley’s attention.

So you admired him from a far, and tried to help Fred and George as best you could.

You chatted with customers, explaining the new product the best you could, but you kept feeling the tug of someone’s attention at the nape of your neck, distracting you. When the customer finally moved on, you glanced towards the direction of the feeling, and caught Charlie watching you over the rim of his fire whiskey, ignoring the gentleman attempting to talk to him entirely.

The air froze in your lungs, you heart tripping over itself. His gaze was scorching, and if looks could burn…you were certain your clothes would be rendered to ash.

Desire pooled in your lower belly, heating your blood to an uncomfortable degree. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears, you missed George approach.

“Hey, y/n, enjoying yourself?” He asked, offering you a glass of champagne with a candy snitch floating in it.

You accepted with a smile. “I am, thank you. You guys have done an incredible job.”

George beamed, clinking your glasses together before loping off to sell to another customer.

“So, how long have you known my brothers?” A low voice murmured in your ear, and you whirled around, nearly spilling champagne all over Charlie’s front. He caught your elbow with a steady hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Easy, love,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“Oh, uh, f-five years? I think,” you stuttered, looking anywhere but his smoldering eyes.

“Then how have we never met? I’d certainly remember you.”

You shrugged a shoulder, taking what you hoped was a casual sip of wine. “Seems you haven’t been paying much attention,” you teased, finally meeting his eyes.

His smirk grew into a soft smile. “What a grave error on my part.”

“Are you in town for the event, or…?” You could feel heat climbing up your neck, but you willed yourself to keep a level head. You knew how to flirt, had done so with plenty of blokes in your time, but none as handsome and disarming as Charlie.

“I thought so, but evidently the Gods had other ideas.”

You knees nearly buckled. “Like?” You coyly tilted your head, allowing your eyes to trail across his broad shoulders, down his chest. Was this guy seriously flirting with you? You knew you weren’t unattractive, but Charlie was…phew.

“Like…” He flushed a little, betraying his suave demeanor, and your heart slipped a little further into his hands. “Meeting the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Ever?” You teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.

“In this life and probably the next.” He took a sip of his whiskey, letting his eyes wander over you the same way yours did him. And based on the way they darkened, his pupils widening just a fraction, he liked what he saw as much as you did.

“Does that line always work for you?”

“Well, considering I’ve never tried it, why don’t you tell me?”

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

Charlie slammed the door shut behind you before crowding you against it, his lips colliding with yours. He tasted like whiskey and pumpkin, with a tinge of cigarette smoke that went straight to your head, and you eagerly tangled your tongue with his, pushing his blazer off his shoulders.

“Colloportus,” he murmured against your mouth, and you heard the lock schick into place. He shrugged his blazer off, tossing it somewhere in the dark storage closet, and his hands were on you again, one sliding into your hair, the other on your lower back, drawing you closer.

“Charlie?” You gasped as his lips traveled down your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his short beard a rough contrast to the suppleness of his kiss.

“Yeah, honey?” he panted, lifting his head to meet your eyes.

“I don’t usually…” you trailed off, nerves suddenly closing your throat.

His hand slid from your hair to cup your cheek, his callouses rough against your heated skin. “Me neither,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “We can do whatever you want, love. I’ll take you to the nicest restaurant in London, or on Dragon-back to the Swiss Alps, or on a cruise ship to the Americas—”

You cut him off with a kiss, throwing your arms around his neck. “And if I want you to fuck me?” you said between pecks, tugging at the roots of his hair.

He smiled and scooped you up by the meat of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so your skirt pushed up over your hips. “Then I’ll fuck you as often as ya’ like.” He turned and dropped you onto some kind of work bench, sending the papers and junk flying with a sweep of his arm.

“The twin’s are going to be pissed,” you giggled, leaning back onto the wood so he could continue his previous assault on your neck.

“Fuck ‘em,” he muttered, nipping at your collarbones. His hands gripped your thighs with dizzying strength, the same hands that handled massive, fire-breathing beasts, and spread you open for his hungry gaze. “Seven fucking hells,” he breathed, running his hands down your inner thighs. “You’re perfect.”

In a swift motion, he ripped your tights at the seam, the sound sending a pulse of arousal to your already dripping pussy, a sharp gasp forcing it’s way from your throat. His fingers glided over your wet panties, so delicate compared to the force he’d used heartbeat before.

Your hips lifted slightly, chasing his gentle touch. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this desperate for someone to touch you, your entire body tuned to his every breath, every twitch of his muscles. He looked so fucking good leaning over you, his previously tidy shirt rumpled, his hair in copper waves around his face, his lips a little red from your fevered kisses.

With his ring finger, her drew your panties to the side, his middle fingers gliding through your slit and circling your clit twice. “Already so wet for me, honey. What did I do to deserve such a warm welcome?” he purred, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

Your brain couldn’t formulate a response, his touch mind-numbing. Pleasure radiated form his fingers, syrupy and languid, with none of the frenetic energy from before. A moan slipped past your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as he coaxed your pussy to bloom for him.

“And such pretty sounds.” He rolled up his shirt sleeve with his free hand, exposing the muscles and veins along his thick forearm. Slowly, he slipped his middle finger inside of you, large enough to stretch you slightly.

“Fuck, Charlie,” you whined, raising yourself onto your elbows so you could watch him play with you.

“I suppose I shouldn’t stretch this out too long, someone might come looking for us,” he mused. “But I could spend a fucking eternity spoiling this greedy little pussy.” He slipped another finger into you channel, pumping them a few times just to feel your cunt suck him back in. “Would you like that, love?” He tilted your chin up with his free hand, an unspoken request for an answer.

“Y-yes, Charlie. Please,” you panted, stretching up to steal a quick peck. He deepened the kiss, shifting his weight to press you back down onto the desk as his tongue flirted with yours. His hand picked up the pace, fucking you steadily as he devoured your mouth, teeth skating along your swollen flesh before sucking lightly on your tongue.

You don’t know what God blessed him with such a skilled tongue, but you needed to make an offering in thanks stat.

But since you couldn’t do that…

“Charlie?” You asked, reaching around to touch his wrist between your legs.

He immediately stopped, withdrawing his hand completely. “What’s wrong?” He searched your face for signs of discomfort, his brows drawn together.

You pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek before sliding off the desk. He watched you, confused and concerned, then you lowered yourself to your knees and his jaw went slack.

“Honey, you don’t have to—”

“Please, Charlie?” You batted your lashes up at him, tugging lightly on his belt.

“Merlin’s fucking—I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that, sweetheart.”

“Then don’t,” you teased, undoing his belt and zipper. You could see the outline of his cock against his black boxers, thick and throbbing as you glided your fingers over it.

He sucked in a breath, gripping the edge of the table with one of his hands. Encouraged, you dragged the flat of your tongue over the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the wetness collecting by the swollen head.

“I must have died in the dragon pit and gone to heaven. My god, woman,” he rasped, running his fingers through his hair to keep it from blocking the sight.

You giggled, licking a few more stripes before reaching up to free him. His cock sprung out, veiny and flushed pink. And, to your absolute shock and delight, even his cock was freckled.

“You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” you praised, and his cheeks flushed pink. You laved your tongue along the thickest vein, earning a throaty groan. You sucked the head into your mouth, lapping up the precum pearling from his slit.

Charlie’s head fell back, one of his hands sliding into your hair. He didn’t add any pressure, just held you as you started to suck him, moving a little further down each time. You wrapped your hand around the base, there was no way you’d fit the entire thing in your mouth, and started pumping him, matching the motions with your mouth. His skin was like velvet, soft and smooth, and you loved feeling him pulse against your tongue with every dip of your head.

“You are too damn good at that. So fucking pretty swallowing my cock.” His thumb stroked your cheek while he gazed down at you, stars in his eyes. “You like sucking me off, honey?”

You nodded as best you could, flicking your tongue at the groove just beneath the head. His hips lurched forward, a grunt escaping through his teeth.

“Fuck, sorry, love. I’m trying to stay still for ya’, but feels so fucking good.”

You reached up and guided his hand into your hair, then used it to push your head down, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

He smirked, his hand fisting in your hair. “Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He started moving your head along his shaft, rocking his hips in time with the movements. He went easy at first, but as drool began to track down your chin, your eyes rolling back in bliss, he picked up the pace. But he only fucked your mouth for a few, punishing strokes before lifting you off of him. He slammed his mouth to yours, a harsh, hungry kiss that had you seeing stars.

You whined in protest, but he shushed you by lifting you into the air and setting you on the table once more.

“If you thought I wasn’t going to fuck you, you’re mad,” he gruffed, dragging the hot head of his cock through your pussy lips. “That is, if you still want me to?”

“Yes, fuck, now, Charlie. Please.” You spread your legs a little wider for him,

“Anything for you, love.” He leaned down and kissed you again, sliding his cock into your depths at the same time. The feeling of being filled by him bordered on divine, silken and hot. He was stretching you just enough to leave you with that delicious ache between your legs. You moaned into each other’s mouths, the sounds caught up by his tongue parting your lips and caressing yours.

He drew his hips back, agonizingly slow, letting you feel every inch of one another, before he slammed back in, knocking the air from your lungs. It seemed he was at the end of his control, his grip on your hips bruising as he fucked you hard, jostling the desk beneath you and making the shelves along the walls rock.

“Fuck, Charlie. Feels so good,” you cried, trying and failing to keep yourself quiet as he railed you, every thrust like a lightning strike of pleasure through your body.

“Yeah? You take my cock so well, baby. Wet little pussy squeezing the life outta’ me,” he groaned, his hair tickling your face. “So good f’me, honey. Like you were made for me.”

Your muscles tightened, veering closer and closer to your peak, his praise sending little pulses of bliss your clit.

“You like being praised, baby? Hearing how perfect you are for me? Fuck, I can feel how much you like that, squeezing me so hard.” His hand slipped between you, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing tight circles over you puffy clit. “Come for me, y/n. I know you can. I want to feel you fall apart around me. That’s a good girl—”

Your cry drowned out his praise as your peak crashed over you, visceral and exquisite. The world vanished, blown apart by the burst of starlight in your chest as you came for him. Pulses of pleasure made your body shake and buck, your eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you through it.

“That’s it, honey. Such a good fucking girl. Merlin, you’re gonna make me come.” He rested on his forearms, braced on either side of your head, hitting an entirely new angle as you came back into your body.

“Charlie,” you whimpered, clinging to him. ”I’ve got ya’, love. Don’t worry. Just a little longer—fuck.” A strangled groan broke from his throat and you felt his cock swell, then kick against your walls, the first hot stream of release painting your insides.

He rested his head on your shoulder as he muscles trembled, his hips pressed flush to yours. You wrapped you arms around his shoulders, still weak from that soul-shaking orgasm. His lips passed over your shoulder, your clavicle, up your neck, before finally ghosting of your lips, soft and breathless.

You remained like that for longer than you probably should have, enraptured with one another. You'd been complete strangers a few hours ago, but this wasn't a hook up akin to a one night stand. This was the reunification of two beings, the re-raveling of a soul tie.

“Y/n,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, your temple. “Y/n, y/n, y/n…” He held you like he'd die if he let go.

“Charlie,” you exhaled, nuzzling behind his ear.

“Can I take you to Romania with me?” He whispered, a joke, you presumed, but there was no humor in his voice.

“I've never seen a dragon before—”

The door knob jiggled, and someone pressed against it, the wood groaning.

“Shit.” Charlie jumped backwards, scrambling to right your dress and smooth your hair.

“Hey, Freddie! This doors locked for some reason.”

“Charlie, your dick,” you snickered while he wiped away a smudge of your lipstick.

“Fuck, right.”

“Alohamor—”

“COLLOPORTUS,” Charlie barked out, snatching his wand from his boot.

“Charlie?” George called, knocking on the door.

Charlie tucked you behind him and undid the spell, peeking the door open. “If you say another word, you're dragon food,” he growled, and you had to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.

“You got a girl in there, mate?” George asked, and you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“George,” Charlie warned.

“Fine, fine. You've got ten minutes before I actually need to get in there.” George knocked once more then strode away, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.

Charlie sagged against the door, exhaling. “I'm sorry, love,” he said, turning to you.

You pecked his cheek. “Don't be sorry, that was the best lay of my life.” You tried to reassure him, despite the curdling sadness in your chest.

A shy smile broke through his serious expression. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “I can only imagine how good it would be when we had all the time in the world,” you murmured against his ear, a shiver rolling down his spine. It was better to leave it like this, flirty, casual, than with whatever…that was.

“I mean, we’ve got ten minutes…”

You patted his chest and slipped out of the door, finding George waiting at the end of the hall, arms crossed.

His jaw dropped. “Y/n!”

Charlie ran out behind you. “I swear to God, George—”

“Are all Weasley's this dramatic?” You closed George's mouth with a finger under his chin.

“Where did—when did—how?” George stuttered, looking back and forth between the two of you.

Charlie smirked, shrugging back on his blazer. “I'll explain when you're older,” Charlie teased. “Would you like a drink, y/n?”

“I'd love one.“ You threaded your arm through his, and together returned to the party.

> Part Two

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

Thanks for reading!

If you enjoyed, please check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Sunday morning

"Morning", she whispered in his ear as she cuddled and his eyes fluttered open. Legs tangling as she held him tightly and he groaned before slowly snapping out of his slumber.

"Morning," he said in a hoarse voice that she was getting used to and needed more than coffee first thing in the morning.

She rolled away from him and he brought her back to his chest, where she belonged, her breasts slipping from beneath the covers as her body came to rest against him again.

Skin to skin, covered in sweat and filling the air of the room with moans and dirty talk, they reinvented the meaning of the word chemistry and redefined the concept of passion as an incarnated verb.

The sun shined outside for the mortals that jumped out of bed to jog or walk their dogs that Sunday morning, which looked like any other Sunday morning in May, on this side of the world. Poor fools!

Syd and Carmy were not in the same realm as them. They were on a whole other level in that bed. They were closer to God.

After the fact, only a few minutes passed as they silently rested in each other's arms trying to calm their breathing.

This moment of calm came to an abrupt end when Syd's stomach churned.

They both looked at each other and cracked a laugh.

"Oh, I think you just earned that breakfast, chef, what do you want? Name it, I'll make it for you."

"Hmmmm... anything?"

"Anything."

"Careful Carmy, I'm very hungry..."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a warning."

Challenge accepted.

He growled, rolling her onto her back and attacking her neck in the spot he now knew drove her wild. He wedged himself between her thighs, his body ready for her instantly once again. She had that effect on him. Sometimes it only took enough time to share a cigarette before he was rock-hard once more and prepared to endure another round. Sometimes not even that long.

She giggled, pulling the sheets over their heads as his mouth descended to her breasts, making its way to her highly responsive and impossibly taut nipples and eliciting sounds from her that drove him to edge faster than any physical touch.

Her nails racked across his back, urging him on, all the while she was encouraging him to fuck her and drawing her knees up against his sides. Her fingers twined in his hair as she pulled his ear to her lips. He responded by sliding his pianist fingers desperately against her slick folds and she stiffened and gasped beneath him.

After that, the passionate haze again.

All of it was rough, sloppy, and quick, thirsty and aching, and it was over when she lifted her hips angling them so he could lose himself in her. Carmy sank down deep inside her calling her name as he choked down against her forehead letting it fly.

Moist rippled around him and a couple more of his erratic thrusts were all it took to push her over the edge. She came hard, arching her back, lifting herself in a brusque shiver, grabbing his shoulders, and biting hard on his flesh there, leaving marks he loved as her whole body trembled against him.

They knew. They always knew the other one was never far behind. They trusted their bodies and were never let down.

Carmy managed to maintain a slow and steady rhythm throughout her violent orgasm for just a moment, long enough, and then he crashed on top of her, crying out her name once again.

He didn't pull out right away. Carmy loved nothing more than to be completely encased in the tight warmth of hers. It was intoxicating.

Syd was still lost in the reverie of having rocked against the man she loved till she could feel him under her skin, throbbing, yearning, and making her whole world collapse into a perfect and breathless instant that seemed to last forever yet never lasted long enough, keeping her coming back for more. And more. And more.

When she could master the art of forming full sentences again, she insisted "I haven't forgotten, Carmy".

"What?"

"Did you really think that I was going to let you ravage my body like that if you didn't cook me breakfast later?"

"Right!"

"Chap, chap! I'm hungry."

"You're insatiable, chef!"

"You feed me too well, chef!"

"What do you say we take a quick shower first and worry about breakfast later?"

"Heard."

The water didn't do a great job of putting out the fire they had lit in the bedroom.

Shortly after, they were in the kitchen, playfully trying to cook breakfast together.

The team-building activity didn't seem to work because Syd was too hungry—a different kind of hungry. She wanted more of what only Carmy could give her.

So Carmy grabbed her with one arm and in one swift motion lifted her up and placed her over the counter. She giggled. And when he kissed her neck her giggles turned into shaky sighs.

From that strategic position between Syd's legs that were wrapped around him to keep him in place, he cooked the most delicious breakfast and they spoonfed each other.

-The kettled hummed.-

In between kisses and bites.

-The kettle hissed.-

As the world raged outside.

-The kettled whistled and the steam swirled upwards mirroring the rising temperature of the bodies to the left.-

Oblivious to the lovers who whispered soft confessions of never-ending lust in each other's ears.

A/N: Seeing as no one else gave a fuck, I did → inspo.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[lesbewriting]

Sevika smut in the works 💪 cause I'm motivated rn

[notapradagurl7]

method man again soon ?

Let Me In.

Black!OC x Method ManWerewolf!

Summary: On a snowy night, you discover that your old flame has transformed into a werewolf, you rescue him from the storm.

A/N: Yes, here you go! it’s been a minute since I wrote for this fine man, I do love black fantasy and hope to see more, Don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open! ❤️🫡

Warnings: fluff, smut, wolf transformation, piv, heavy dirty talk, angst, filth, biting, breeding kink, fictional, not real, kinda like a blurb.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque @playgurlxoxo @becauseimswagman1

@pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @kaylalb

@yassbishimvintage @blackgrlmagic

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest-@tforpresz

@uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn @dpennedit @euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @tforpresz

@uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn @dpennedit

@secretlifeoofmarpessa

@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere @mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@5starr-staciii @pickuptruck01 @henneseyhoe @irlvampfairy

@browngirldominion @madamedantes

@chaoticcoffeequeen

@valarghoulis @jazziejax

@saturnville

@enchantedillumination

 ———-

Sitting cross-legged on the suede red couch, your brown pupils on the Garamond font printed on the white pages of the book in your right hand with the soft sound of jazz playing from the jet-black television across the room. Using the same remote to lower the volume, you sat surrounded by vintage red floral wallpaper, in the medium-sized living room where you were relaxed and at ease, chilling like a villain in your little sanctuary.

The small flakes of white snow descended from the thick,  cumulus clouds without a shade of blue showing up above, December arrived quicker than she thought every time of the year, she wanted to stay in your relaxed home where it was warm and safe.

The scent of mint filled the air while she had just finished placing a few candles in the room. Curling up with a cherry red blanket and a red mug of hot chocolate in her hand, tiny marshmallows floating at the of the brown beverage, she snuggled deeper into the couch.

Simone closed the book with a gentle snap, her gaze caught something outside the window in the white snow. Putting her mug and book down on the coffee table, she made her way toward the window, her palms pressed against the cold glass.

Tightening her gaze, she tried to make out the figure from the distance, it was a raven-haired werewolf. "Oh, Is that a wolf? I gotta go save it." she muttered to herself, feeling a twinge of sympathy. Without a second thought, she rushed towards the front door.

Why was there a werewolf in a snowstorm all alone without anyone noticing or saving it?

Clothed in a bright red coat, matching pants, her raven box braids swayed with her movement and snow boots as she crept toward the werewolf. With each step, the crunch of her boots mixed with the creature's growls echoing through the chilly air.

Simone slowly approached the werewolf, and blood dripped from its wounded arm. Simone spoke in a soft tone, her eyes on the creature's slow movements. "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you," she reassured, cautious not to frighten the beast or become its next prey.

The melanated woman gently caressed the wolf's head, its golden eyes fixed on her hand as she hears a soft whine. Moving her thumb back and forth in a soothing motion, She comforted, "You're safe with me, don't worry." The wolf was just the right size to be lifted by Simone - not too big, not too small.

After entering her home, Simone secured the door behind her pushing it with her clothed back. The wolf, still cradled in her arms, was gently placed onto the plush, brown chocolate-colored carpet. "I'll be back okay?" she reassured the animal, before getting a First Aid Kit from underneath her sink in the white cabinet.

Carefully treating his wound using peroxide and white bandage tape, locking eyes with the wolf's eyes again. "You did a great job, you're quite familiar—What's your name?" Simone asked him, raising her brow.

She remembers seeing the same wolf in the woods while she was outside gathering firewood for her house, is the wolf an old flame of hers? Clifford.

Cliff and Simone were dating a few years ago until he began acting strange, the irises of his eyes changed to golden, and his teeth were sharper, she remembers that day when he told her he was changing but she didn't think he would be a werewolf. Maybe that's why he ran away, he didn't want anyone especially her to see him as a monster or be heckled and shunned by the townsfolk.

Simone listened closely, a voice suddenly spoke to her in her thoughts. "Hello, Simone. It's me Cliff," the voice said. The wolf's ears perked up at the sound of his deep, masculine tone through Simone's mind like an echo. She knew without a doubt that it was him.

"Cliff what happened to you? I thought you were dead or—wait can you change back to a human?" She asked him, needing to see if it was really him.

A crimson-red glow, its thick tendrils swirling before her eyes. When the light scattered, a naked and vulnerable man sat before her. She quickly grabbed a large navy blue towel from the nearby suede couch, draping it over his shoulders to cover him. Her face turned red as she buried her face into the towel. Cliff chuckled at her reaction, grateful for the warmth of the towel.

"What's wrong baby girl?" Cliff asked, raising a brow, his voice still deep yet more human-like. Good thing he couldn't see her blushed face with the towel around him and her chin resting on his shoulder. "You're naked Cliff, I'm gonna get you some clothes okay?..." she told him, the closeness between their bodies made her heart thump out of her chest, she missed him so much.

Cliff chuckled, "Yeah, that would be a great idea." He turned around to face her with their eyes meeting, their bodies still close. "I missed you," he softly told her, his eyes locking onto hers intensely.

She felt shivers run down her spine at his words, her heart racing even faster. "I missed you too," she replied with a warm smile, blushing again.

As she stood up from the plush brown chocolate carpet, she sauntered through the cramped hallway and loomed into the exposed doorway of the medium-sized room with the vintage red floral wallpaper. With a faint blush, she gingerly opened the closet door and rummage through the hangers of clothes, finding the perfect outfit for him.

She gave him some baggy clothes that fit him perfectly, The black sweatpants and plain sweatshirt once belonged to her older brother. Cliff quickly changed into the clothing, feeling more at ease and less exposed. "Thank you, Simone," he thanked her. Grateful to be saved by her from the snowstorm.

Simone smiled warmly at him, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. "It's no problem, baby. I'm just glad I could help," she replied, patting his shoulder gently. "But we need to talk about what happened to you. How did you became a werewolf?"

Cliff sighed deeply, his eyes darkened as he remembered the night that had changed his life forever. "It was a full moon night, and I was out in then woods walking with some friends. We stumbled upon a pack of werewolves, we tried to run away but every single of them attacked us baby," he said, taking a seat on the couch.

He paused, taking a deep breath. "I thought I was going to die, but then something strange started happening to my body. I felt my bones shifting, my muscles bulging, and my senses becoming stronger and then I transformed into this." his hands gripped the fabric of the sweatshirt so tightly that he trembled uncontrollably.

Simone's heart softened as she saw the pain in his eyes. She decided to comfort him. "Come here, Cliff," she said in a soft tone, gesturing him to her embrace. He leaned in, burying his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her mint perfume.

Their hearts flutter in sync, Despite his werewolf senses, he resisted the urge to take control and simply snuggled into her warmth. a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time, and a sense of peace washed over him.

Cliff regretted leaving her behind when he transformed into a werewolf yet here they were in her living room, why couldn't he have told her? He was too scared. Simone held him close, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he let out a few quiet sobs.

Her black sweatshirt absorbed his tears one by one, "You're not a monster, baby," she whispered, her words giving him a glint of hope.

The old flames sat in silence, the only sounds were the crackling of the fireplace, he quickly pulled away from her embrace as he wiped his tears away, "Thank you..I'm sorry for leaving you Simone.." Cliff apologized, his voice laced with regret. His thumb traced her jawline lovingly.

Her palm cupped his breaded face with her brown pupils on his dark brown ones, "It's okay, you had to leave. I understand."

Cliff nuzzled his nose against her palm, gently kissing her handprint while letting out a low growl of contentment, "No it's not, I promise i won't leave again baby.." he calmed, hearing the sincerity in his tone.

She pulled him in by his shoulders to bring his face in, making him into her brown eyes. "Then don't leave...stay here." She replied to him with a soft tone, He leaned in closer, his lips against brushing hers.

His lips pressed onto hers in a steamy kiss. It was like they were making up for lost time, their bodies pressed together as they deepened the kiss, quickly undressing and preparing for their sensual act.

Her naked back rested against the plush, brown chocolate-colored carpet with his big hands latched on her hips as he rested her legs on top of his broad shoulders, giving her every inch of thick dick, he was much bigger this time that she felt every vein of his dick pulsating inside of her wet walls.

Clenching around him so perfectly, stretching her out after each jagged stroke, His fingers dug into her skin, leaving marks while he pulled her closer to him. Simone squirmed beneath him, their low eyes locked with his forehead pressed against hers.

Her arms draped his neck pulling him in closer with their bodies pressed against each other while he lowers his head to suckle on her neck and his sharp teeth grazing on her melanated skin earning a moan from his lover, Cliff plunges deeper into her, "Oh fuck! Cliff!! Deeper!!" Simone chanted out, her fingernails leaving bloody scratches on the delicate skin of his shoulder blades which made him hiss through his teeth.

Cliff quickly stood up from the carpet with him quickly pulled out of her as he carries her to the grey suede couch with her hands on the headrest of the couch while he gripped the back of her thighs hiking them up to his slender hips as he slipped back into her from behind with a soft moan leaving her lips, "Is that deep enough for you baby?" he groaned lowly, ramming into her causing her dainty hands gripped the headrest for dear life.

His low eyes fixated on her face twisting up in pleasure with her fingernails gripping the carpet and her toes curling into a ball from his animalistic thrusts sending her over the edge while her vision became dotty with tears cascading down her rosy red cheeks, he was making up for the lost time, the distance between them that crushed them, he couldn't run away from her again, "You're so beautiful.." he told her, his teeth sunk underneath his lips.

Their melanated bodies were covered in sweat and glistening from the dim lighting above the chandelier adding to the wet squelching noises and the skin-to-skin slapping aired out in the living room, "Y-yesss! Y-you're so deep!!" she cried out to him, throwing her ass back on him while he throw his head back from her clenching and creaming on his length, "Fuckk..you feel so good." Cliff groaned raspily, kissing up her arch passionately.

His dick twitched inside of her walls with her legs shaking weakly in his clutch feeling the shockwaves of pleasure flowing through her body, giving her more than a few sloppy strokes seeing her wetness trickle down in between her thighs as he dug her out, "I-i'm cumming...c-cum in me please.." she moaned lowly in between his strokes, by her request.

Her essence gushed on his dick completely, He unleashed his huge load of his nut through her walls, he grunted lowly, filling her up. Moaning at the same time.

Cliff caught her body in his arms while he seated her on his lap with the lovers breathing heavily, "i love you.." he told you, his hands gently caressing her thighs lovingly as he pecked her forehead.

Enjoying the silence between them, "I love you too.." she replied back, smiling with heat creeping on her cheeks.

————-

[tojisteddy]

Cry Baby | 1.4k words (gawd damn), 18+ mdni, smut with a little plot, dacryphilia, daddy kink, meanie!simon, age gap (Simon’s 34, reader!mid-late twenties)

Simon Riley is used to making people cry.

Whether it be from heartbreak, his tall and muscular build in addition to the mask scaring children, from being too blunt, cursing men & women out, making them feel too good when he’s stuffed them full of his cock— he was used to the tears.

But you, you were an anomaly.

Sometimes you’d cry when Simon was being too mean, cry over a good movie— tears would brim to your lashes when he’d kiss you after you two would make up because you were stupid in love with the brute. But sometimes you’d hold it. A trait that Simon hated because it was like he was dealing with a different person.

He knew you were off when the two of you went shopping (for your closet of course) and you didn’t say much except ‘I like whatever you like Si.’ You’d be in and out of conversation, ‘hm?’ and ‘what’d ya say?’ constantly leaving your mouth. He’d already known you we’re past your limit, but you wouldn’t say a word. Usually by the first or second day you’d fess up on your own, voice horse, gripping at his shirt, big brown eyes averting his own because you were too embarrassed. ‘can we- can we talk? just for a bit?’

His cute princess.

But now, a week had passed. He expected to hear those heart aching sobs after he heard you telling off your younger German shepherd, Fish (yes, Fish) to ‘let go’ and ‘it’s mine, Fish!’ He’d found the dog with your favorite worn out sweater, now ripped and tattered, in his mouth as he laid on the couch. Not a peep came from your lips. So the man was forced to push you to talk. Not an issue. He’d done it before.

“Got somethin’ y’wanna say t’me?”

You glanced over at the older man. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest and looking at you dead on. You shifted on your feet. You hated when he stared, it was like he was reading you like a book and tarring out the pages for good keeping.

You went back to getting the dog food ready for their last meal of the day, “nope.”

Stubborn. Simon found it funny sometimes when you picked up some of his traits, that included that stubbornness that popped out when you were agitated. But you weren’t supposed to be like Daddy, no, you’re supposed to be better. Simon would make you better.

“Don’t be hard headed swee’ art. Y’know better.”

He’d practically pushed you into a corner with his words alone. It wasn’t just intimidation, it was a clear warning. You needed out. So you spoke whatever words were at the forefront of your mind.

“Then I just don’t have anythin to say to you.”

The man was dumbfounded, head tilting to the side in awe. He didn’t expect that answer of all things and you casually went to go feed the dogs like you hadn’t said anything. A deep chuckle fills the silent walls of the kitchen.

Cute little thing. Loveable thing. His babygirl.

You didn’t wanna cry? Didn’t wanna talk? Fine.

Simon would fuck it out of you.

“Wait- hmph- w-wait Daddy I don’t-“

“Y’talk now? Thaaa’s a shocker.”

“No- I- s’tooooo much Daddy! I don’t like it like-nnnggh this!”

Simon rolled his eyes, of course you didn’t like it. It was when you felt undeniable, inescapable pleasure. He’d have you in a headlock, all of his weight completely pressed against you, rolling his hips as his girth stretched out your sweet pink walls. The room was completely filled with your moans and the smacking of his balls hitting your ass as he bottomed out with each stroke.

How many times had you cum already?

It didn’t fucking matter if tears weren’t coming out yet. And he wasn’t just aiming for those regular small ‘feel good’ tears, he needed those belligerent sobs that made your throat hurt. The blonde liked to call it ‘regulating emotions.’ When you couldn’t do it yourself of course Daddy would help. What else was he there for?

Your eyes were at the back of your skull, long manicured nails clawing at his arm and trying to get ahold of yourself. You felt delirious and you’d only cum twice but Simon kept pushing you like he wanted something out of you. The truth, you shook your head at your own thoughts. No way, you were fine. This was— god, the bastard, the ghost himself was dragging himself in and out of you, in and out, harsh and slow. Just so you could hear the squelching of your sopping cunt and get you completely embarrassed and moaning at the sound.

“Si- let’s- a break— mmmgghhh- we- oh fuck daddy- break? annngh p-please?” You whined out.

“ ‘Nd why would y’need a break when you’ve been a lazy fuckin bitch this whole time?”

A military man who could lie in an instant.

He hadn’t told you to do a single thing tonight but he needed a reaction out of you. He scuffed, pulling his strawberry red dick out of you with a loud ‘pop’ and turning you on your side. Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and straddling your other thigh. He slapped his aching tip on your drenched hole, there you were clenching over nothing.

“Didn’t wanna talk this whole time but now ya got shit to say.” Simon slammed every fucking inch of him inside of your oh-so tight cunt making him throw his head back. “The fuckin nerve of ya.”

“I- wait-“

“-Thought ya were my good girl, but you’re just a stupid slut for daddy’s cock.”

A hiccup.

He looked down at your pretty face and- oh. there it was. There it fuckin was. That sickeningly adorable trembling pout on your two tone lips, real tears spilling out of your eye ducts and meeting the pillow as he repeatedly slammed into your gushing walls. Was it sick for him to crave it? Yes. But the big guy couldn’t help himself, he loved seeing pretty girls cry for him. Even better when he had a good reason to get it out of you. You felt the knots in your stomach building, even worse as Simon pressed a hand on your stomach as his dick poked out. A string of grumbled curses leaving his mouth at the feel of it.

You gasped, pushing at his abdomen, “Daddy nooo- it’s really too much! I- I-”

“—Nuh-uh. Stop fightin it and give it t’me. Give. It. To. Me.”

Your orgasm was harshly yanked out of you, screaming at the top of your lungs— thank fuck you two lived in the middle of the woods. You’d finally let that week old sob out of your throat, fat salty tears spilling out at everything because you really did feel everything at the moment. All the sadness was now washing over you like a wave mixed along with the high of cumming. An insane combination.

“Therrrre you go pup. Creaming all over me, all while bein so. damn. pretty. Want my cum baby girl? Hmm? Shit baby, you wanna feel full with Daddy?”

You couldn’t even find your words, just pulling at his hips to feel him deeper inside you. And it was so warm, so- loving when he came inside you, Simon making sure you took every drop till you couldn’t anymore. He cupped your face in his big hands, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. So fuckin cute. He’d sit you up, still on his cock of course, leaning back with his propped up arms and peering down at you.

“Gonna tell me what’s wrong or it’s still not for your Daddy t’hear?”

You sniffed, big brown puppy dog eyes looking up at the man full of scars.

“E-everyone-“ you let out a shaky breath, “everyone’s so damn mean Si.”

And you went on and on about your completely shitty week, from your job, to missing the train right when you needed it to Fish ripping apart your favorite fucking sweater. And Simon was there, attentive but silent, listening to every word uttered. Wiping away the stray tears with a thumb and pinching your cheek. His silly girl, adorable princess. Held it in for nothing, as if he wouldn’t be there to comfort you. Silly, silly girl. He’d fix that too, but for now—

“Want me t’take care of ya? Hm lovie?” His lips met yours, fitting the two like a missing puzzle piece. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing the blonde man closer and pressing yourself against him. You didn’t say a word. You didn’t have to.

He snickered against your lips, “Course ya do, baby, course ya fuckin do.”

a/n: kinda on Simon kick. Also the gaggery of my last post about him. Thank you guys so much. You probably won’t read this again but reading while listening to Cry Baby by SZA or Janis Joplin>>>

most recent masterlist

[itneverendshere]

BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)

pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut

inspired by this audio (+18)

between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.

the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party. 

sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).

you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.

you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."

you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.

the only downside is that you’re in his territory.

it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.

your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.

he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.

and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.

as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.

against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.

mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.

“ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i  didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely apologetic.

you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."

he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,” 

you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.

"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.”

he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”

rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”

he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”

you raise a brow, "you think so?"

he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”

the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”

the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”

you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”

 “i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”

"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."

the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”

you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."

there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”

there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound. 

the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.

you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."

“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”

you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body. 

you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”

he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”

yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing. 

“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.

he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”

you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”

he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”

with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver. 

“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”

instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.

by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.

at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching.

you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.

you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into. 

why make it easy for him?

rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.

he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.

you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.

pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different. 

he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.

at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting. 

rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.

he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.

third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe. 

it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible. 

his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.

did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.

rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.

“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a fool out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”

a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.

he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up. 

his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough. 

“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”

“who says you’re that dangerous?”

the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips. 

it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting. 

you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.

“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”

his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”

he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed. 

“be a good girl and come out.”

rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening. 

the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.” 

he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control. 

“what’s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”

your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.

“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window. 

his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open. 

“caught you.”

moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body. 

he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.

you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.” 

rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.

“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.

“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.

he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you. 

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.

“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.

 jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?

“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.

you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”

a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”

the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.

your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something. 

he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”

you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch. 

he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right, 

“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”

his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.

“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?” 

“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”

he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.

“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”

he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind. 

“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.

rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.

“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you wanna fuck me.”

he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.

“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”

“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.

rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick. 

he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”

he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.

“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can take me.”

the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.

“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.

“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”

rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.

“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”

you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"

his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell. 

you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”

he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.

“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”

rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.

he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.

“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”

it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm. 

“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”

with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—

“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.

you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”

“whatever you want.”

you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?

the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”

looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone. 

you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.

“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.

“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”

rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.“i can always find someone el—"

you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”

your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. 

he’s so strong.

“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”

“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”

it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.

“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear.  “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”

“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.

“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”

by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”

“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”

“please.”

it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else. 

he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.

“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. 

you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.

“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”

you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”

he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”

for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes. 

“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”

the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”

“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”

you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.

your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb. 

“nothin’ to say now, huh?”

the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”

if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him. 

somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.

“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”

rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”

“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”

he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.

you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.

rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you. 

a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”

“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”

he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you. 

your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.

“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.

rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”

his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.

five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.

you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.

you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.

“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”

he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.

the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of your attitude that only made him want you more. 

but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this. 

bless halloween.

“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”

more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place. 

and the worst part is that you’d do it again.

“i…i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”

you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?

“can i eat you out?”

you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”

he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”

you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”

rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.

“why not?”

well, fucking damnit.

dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ FIGURE EIGHTS

violet; 28,888 words; fluff and smut (at the end), semi enemies to lovers, fake dating, hockey!vi x figure skater!reader, ice dancers!meljayce, miscommunication, smau-intermissions, toxic ex!cait, simpgirl!vi, slowburn, the gays r bad at feelings, lots of making out that almost leads to something, emotional edging (for YOU lol), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), slightly unhinged!reader, no "y/n"

summary: a hockey player and a figure skater kind of, sort of, not really, but then actually fall in love. what could possibly go wrong? (narrator: apparently, everything.)

a/n: YALL. yall. YOU. ALL. lmfao. i can't believe i finished this (i say, after writing any fic longer than 5k words). but i TRULY doubted for a second that i would bc as i kept writing, it kept... getting longer? i hope that this doesn't drag, and that you guys like it. it's really a fucking labor of love. like heavy emphasis on the labor. shoutout to @vifilms for being my emotional support, and to my irl bf for actually physically reading through like 90% of this fic out LOUD with me to make sure the dialogue doesn't sound awk. BUT ANYWAYS. pls enjoy and PLS tell me what u guys think!!!! the smau fake texts won't start till chapter three, but ! it's my first time making like.. fake texts so sldkfjsd.

TABLE OF CONTENTS ━

prologue: party people

chapter one: shut up and kiss me

chapter two: fists to a knife fight

chapter three: love's dream

chapter four: for cup's sake

chapter five: don't hate the player (suggestive)

chapter six: six (nsfw)

─── TAG YOU'RE IT .ᐟ.ᐟ

pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged for this series! :) if you're already on my vi-taglist via my normal taglist link, then you're all good. if you only wanna be tagged for this series, comment below! pls pls have your age visible somewhere on your blog as this will be an 18+ fic!!!! thank you!!!

prologue: party people

─── Ⅵ IT STARTS WITH A GAME of spin the bottle — a college party post-game, the home team the exhalant victors, the crowds of adoring fans the worshippers at their beer-tower altars, doing keg stands and shot-gunning cans of cheap bud lite for an approving grin or a wink.

“Remind me why we’re here again?” you ask, jerking back as a drunken guy nearly topples into you, the red solo cup in his hand sloshing over onto the already sticky linoleum floor.

Mel sighs, “Because, darling, you promised me that you’d come out at least once if me and Jayce made it through the Challenger Series this year.”

She tugs you behind her, weaving through the crush of bodies till the cramped living room area opens onto a much larger patio, the mid-autumn chill cooling your skin.

“It was a joke,” you say, whining slightly even as Mel grabs what looks like an unopened hard cider from the table and presses it into your hand.

“Yes, and one that hurt my feelings,” Mel sniffs, turning her nose up, though a grin teases at her lips, “so to make up for it, you now have to stay at this party and have some semblance of a good time.”

And that was three and a half drinks ago, because sometime between then and now, you’ve found yourself pulled into an unwitting game of spin the bottle with what seems like half the entire hockey team, sitting next to Mel, her boyfriend Jayce on your other side, chatting animatedly with one of the girls hockey girls. You overhear the words “creatin” and “Bulgarian Squat” and decided that it’s time for you to tune out of the conversation.

“Vi, it’s your turn!”

Vi, your thoughts linger over the sound.

It’s a pretty name.

You glance up at the girl sitting across from you, Number Six — you’ve always known her as that, what with the tattoo on her cheek (there were rumors that it’s actually not real and she just reapplies one of those temporary tattoos every two weeks) and the fact that it’s her jersey number, it’s really not too hard to remember.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, laughing as she reaches for the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle. Her right hand’s bandaged up and you can’t help staring at it. When you look up next, it’s to catch her watching you, your eyes meeting in a startling clash of raw contact — the cacophonous noise of the party dulling out to a thin whine somewhere at the back of your head as you stare at her and she stares right back.

You’d never noticed that her eyes, even in the dark, beneath the dim, flickering patio lights, reads mourning-dove blue, so subtle it’s almost gray, so sharp as she takes you in that your stomach drops from inside you. She smirks and twists her fingers expertly around the bottle, setting it whizzing.

You tear your eyes away, your breath sent astray in your chest by just that look alone. You frown at the spinning bottle, your mind abuzz with fragmentary thoughts you can’t quite string along for long enough to form a full sentence — eyes… her lips are pretty… wasn’t she dating… someone? who??? what’s her name again? something pretty —

“— right, ice princess, you ready?”

“Huh?” you jerk your eyes up from the bottle to find everyone watching you. From your left, Mel nudges you with a sanctimonious grin, her eyes flickering down to the bottle and back up towards —

“Go on!” she hisses, even as you blink uncomprehendingly down at the bottle pointing right at you.

Across the circle, Vi’s questioning smirk is all the answer you need as your alcohol-addled brain finally puts together the pieces.

“R-right…” you push up onto your knees, but something holds you back, a niggling feeling in the back of your brain as Vi’s smirk grows wide and she jerks her head towards the living room.

“Want a bit of privacy? Or… would you prefer an audience?”

Half the circle wolf-whistles at the insinuation, the other half roll their eyes, leaning back on their elbows as if to settle in for a long night.

You lick your lips, feeling your mouth scald dry.

“Privacy. Please.”

You follow Vi stiffly from the patio back into the stuffy house, her fingers closing around your wrist as she tugs you behind her through a long hallway splitting off from the main living room, branching into a series of what look like bedrooms. Half the doors are closed, illicit sounds echoing out from behind them, but Vi finds an empty one near the end of the hallway and pushes it open, leading you inside.

“Oh wow,” you say, looking around the room. It’s a typical fratboy’s room, full of suggestive posters, the floor littered with questionably laundered clothes.

“What, not your ideal setting for a makeout-sesh with a stranger?”

You frown as your eyes slingshot back to Vi, her standing feet from you, hands tucked loosely into her pockets, watching you with dark, firefly eyes.

“Thought we were just supposed to kiss once.”

Vi chuckles, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides, crowding you up against the closed door.

“Sure. We can do that. Or…” she makes no effort to hide the way her eyes flicker down to your lips, trailing back up in a line of fire that sizzles against your skin. “I could show you what a real good time looks like.”

Your breath crystalizes in your chest, and the strange, tickling feeling traces down the back of your head till it gathers, hot and unconscionable at the nape of your neck — a spin-click wheel of half-formed thoughts and images ticking by behind your eyelids as you try to remember why the hell this feels so wrong.

And then, it clicks, and you press a hand to Vi’s chest just as she’s leaning down to graze her lips against yours, the friction so delicious you almost lose your train of thought.

“A-are you sure this is a good idea? Didn’t you just break up with that track and field girl? Caitlyn?” you blurt out, a culmination of all the snippets of whispered conversations and half-caught glances of the pair of them across campus. The It-Girl Couple, people called them, the hockey team star and the track and field genius. They were hard to miss, and even harder to forget.

A moth-wing-flicker of emotions crosses Vi’s face as she takes half a step back, her expression morphing into one of shock, and then hurt, and finally, hard-lined disgust as she looks down at you with a thin-lipped grimace.

“Oh fuck you.”

She yanks you from the door, storming out without a backwards glance. You catch yourself against the half-made bed, your breath coming in heaving pants as your head spins. Guilt curdles in the bed of your stomach like spoilt milk, and it only takes you half a second to realize that of all the things to say, that probably was the worst possible choice.

You’d heard mention of the breakup, even if you didn’t have any stakes in this so-called game. It was harsh and messy and loud, and it had spilled across campus like a backed-up toilet, oozing foulness and stank across the grounds till not a single person was left unstained in the aftermath.

“Wait —” you stumble after Vi, but it’s too late. By the time you reach the patio doors, she’s already settling back into her place in the circle, an easy grin slung across her lips.

You swallow, pushing through the door to scurry over to Mel’s side. Mel beams at the flush in your cheeks, convinced (just like the rest of the circle) that it’d been one hell of a kiss, judging by how entirely breathless you are.

“Damn Vi, you gotta learn how to go easy on them figure skaters, hm?” Margot smirks, her eyes glittering as she looks you over, “look at the poor darling — she can barely breathe!”

Everyone laughs, and Vi flashes a convincingly satisfied smirk, shrugging up a shoulder. You glance at her, only to shiver at the arctic ice behind her gaze as your eyes catch once more.

“What can I say? Easy isn’t a setting I come programmed with.”

You duck your head as Vi casts you one more frigid look before turning to laugh at something a teammate has just said, and the circle devolves into good-natured banter and pocket conversations. You gulp around your too-dry throat and pluck Mel’s drink from her hand, tossing the rest of it back in a single gulp. She blinks at you, eyes wide.

“Darling, are you —”

“I — I’m fine just — it’s — I think I’m gonna head back.”

Mel frowns, “Are you sure? I mean —” she looks towards where Vi’s been pulled into an impromptu arm-wrestling match with some dude from the football team, “you could try and —”

You shake your head, “No, I — I think I’m good. I had a good time, I just —” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ve got practice tomorrow and Amara’s gonna murder me if I get there late.”

Mel stares for a second before relenting, a soft sigh on her lips.

“Alright, alright — go on then. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, yes?”

You give her a tight-lipped smile, reaching out for a quick hug before ducking out of the party, skirting the edges of the growing mosh pit forming in the living room till you finally find yourself out on the front steps again.

You close your eyes for a second, pressing your back to the frat house door, feeling the dull thump of the music inside reverberating through the thin wooden frame as you breathe in and out.

You can still taste the heat of Vi’s breath on your lips, feel harsh sting of ice as she’d caught your eyes after. The chill air, once refreshing, pebbles your skin and an involuntary shiver shakes down your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself and give your head a good shake.

Whatever, you think, stepping off the porch, casting your eyes up at the star-strewn sky, a whisp of warm breath fogging up the air before you.

Not like it’ll matter. Bet she won’t even remember me after tonight.

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @armins-slvt

[greengoblinswifey]

Reunited— Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader

summary— You’re reunited with your boyfriend luigi and he shows you just how much he missed you.

warnings— fingering, slight voyeurism, oral(f!receiving) praise kink, bit of crying but luigi comforts you, L bombs, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— originally posted on my ao3, where there’s another luigi fic <3 FREE MY MF MAN!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Luigi Mangione was not just another face in the crowd, he was a polarizing figure. He gained national attention after allegedly carrying out a calculated act of vengeance against a corrupt CEO you couldn’t care less about. He claimed his actions were a response to widespread exploitation and inequality in the healthcare system and you were 100% on board.

After leaving behind a manifesto that exposed systemic greed and corruption, he disappeared, sparking an instant nationwide search. Supporters hailed him as a modern day vigilante, while detractors condemned him as a criminal. You were by his side through it all, not only as his girlfriend but as his confidant and staunchest ally.

You had met Luigi three years ago at a charity gala. While his presence was understated, his charisma was undeniable. You had a passion for uncovering the truth and you were drawn to his fiery intellect and his conviction to make a difference. When he confided in you about his disillusionment with the corporate world and his dream to spark real change, you stood by him, even as the risks escalated.

When the authorities finally caught him, it shattered your world. Luigi was supposed to be halfway across the country by then, safe and untouchable. But fate had other plans.

After days of navigating legal hurdles, your boyfriend was granted bail thanks to the efforts of the legal team you assembled and the donations pouring in from his legion of supporters. The day you picked him up from jail was a whirlwind of emotions. Crowds of people gathered outside the facility, holding signs and chanting his name. The media swarmed like vultures, cameras flashing as Luigi emerged, his posture unyielding despite the chaos.

The car was parked a block away, avoiding the thick of the chaos. As he stepped out, the crowd screamed. He lifted his hand in acknowledgment, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Read the manifesto,” he said, his tone commanding yet calm. “The answers you seek are in there.”

The crowd erupted, some cheering, others debating. But Luigi didn’t linger. He moved toward you, his gaze softening the moment he saw you waiting.

The lawyer drove the two of you to a safe house on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the faint bruising along his jawline.

“Baby, did they hurt you?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He exhaled, brushing your concern aside. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m just angry they didn’t let me speak.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “They’ll hear you soon enough. You’ve already started something they can’t ignore.”

His eyes softened as he turned to you. “I missed you,” he murmured, his hand finding your thigh. “Every damn second I was in that shithole.”

You smiled, leaning closer. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He kissed you deeply, his hand tightening its grip. “You’ve been my anchor through all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The car ride felt impossibly long as the reality of the situation weighed down on you. You kept glancing at Luigi, his sharp profile shown by the fleeting city lights. Despite the calm mask he wore, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

You reached over, your fingers brushing his arm. “I was so scared for you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Tears began to spill before you could stop them.

Luigi turned to you immediately, his expression softening. “Don’t cry, amore. I’m here now,” he murmured, pulling you closer. He pressed a series of tender kisses to your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“It’s just so unfair,” you choked out. “The media, the critics—they don’t know you like I do. You’re not some monster. You’re brave, kind, and caring. You only wanted to help people.”

He cupped your face, his gaze locking with yours. “Let them say what they want. I don’t need their approval. I have you, and that’s all I care about.”

You leaned into him, his words wrapping around your heart like a balm. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” he promised, his voice low and steady. “No one can keep me from you.”

As the car drove deeper into the night, Luigi’s hand found its way to your thigh, his touch warm against your skin. He glanced down at your dress, his lips curving into a sly smile.

“You look so sexy in this,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. “Did you wear it for me?”

“Yes,” you admitted, heat rushing to your face.

He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing circles on your thigh. “Good. Because it’s driving me crazy.”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your neck. You shivered as he placed a trail of slow kisses along your skin. “You smell amazing,” he murmured against you.

His hand slid higher, and when his fingers brushed your bare pussy, he froze for a moment before letting out a low, appreciative moan. “You’re not wearing anything underneath?” he asked.

You shook your head, your breath hitching.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered, his voice laced with both amusement and desire. His fingers trailed to your clit, the heat of his touch making you bite your lip to keep from making a sound.

“Luigi,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and the need for discretion.

“Shh, amore,” he said, his lips still pressed to your neck. “Be good for me. Stay quiet.”

His fingers moved with purpose, his slow circles on your clit sending your nerves into a frenzy. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I missed this, missed you.”

The car hit a bump, jolting you both, and you bit back a gasp as he slipped a finger into you immediately, your hand gripping his arm tightly.

Up front, the lawyer cleared his throat, oblivious. “Almost there,” he said.

Luigi smirked, his fingers still working their magic. “Good. But not soon enough,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as he praised you softly.

His touch became more deliberate, his fingers moving in a way that left you struggling to suppress your reactions. His gaze flicked up to yours, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re doing so well for me, amore,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I can feel how much you missed me from how wet you are.”

Your breath hitched as he praised you, his movements precise and slow, building that feeling inside. He kissed the side of your neck again, murmuring against your skin, “I love seeing you like this, knowing I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, biting to suppress your moans as his fingers curled inside you with his thumb rubbing your clit.

“I can’t—” you breathed, biting your lip to quiet yourself as your orgasm built.

“Cum for me, beautiful,” he whispered, speeding up his movements.

You bit onto his shoulder, using your other hand to pull him onto you as your orgasm ripped through you like a knife. You really hoped the seats weren’t messy.

The car slowed as it neared the safe house, and Luigi reluctantly withdrew his hand, his eyes dark with unspoken promises. “Just wait til’ we’re inside,” he said softly, his fingers brushing your chin as he gave you a quick, knowing smile.

His lawyer parked the car in front of the nondescript safe house, stepping out to hold the door for both of you. Luigi exited first, straightening his suit jacket before reaching for your hand. “Thank you,” he said curtly to the lawyer, who nodded and drove off into the night.

The moment you were inside, Luigi shut the door, locking it and turned to you, his expression filled with an intensity that took your breath away.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice rough as he pulled you close. His hands framed your face as he kissed you deeply, his body pressing you back against the nearest wall.

“Lui—,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made your knees weak.

“You’re mine,” he said firmly, his voice filled with both affection and possessiveness.

His hands roamed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you even closer. “I’m going to remind you how much I missed you,” he said, his voice a mix of promise and passion.

Luigi carried you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping you in the warmth of safety as he navigated the unfamiliar safe house. He gently kicked open the door to what you assumed was the bedroom, setting you down on the soft mattress. His touch was soft, fingers lingering on your shoulders as he slid your straps off, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he was seeing you for the first time.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” he murmured, his voice filled with longing.

Your response was barely a whisper. “I’ve thought about you every second.”

He tilted your chin upward, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that deepened with every passing moment. As he undid the zipper of your dress, his movements were deliberate yet gentle. The fabric pooled at your feet, and his breath hitched slightly as his gaze took your naked body in.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his tone awestruck. His fingers threaded through your braids, tugging softly as he kissed you again, his lips tracing a path down your jawline and neck.

Your hands instinctively found his curls, tangling in them as he lowered himself to his knees before you. “Baby,” you whispered, the emotion in your voice evident.

“Shh,” he replied softly, his lips brushing your skin. “I need to take care of you first. Tell me how much you missed me.”

“I missed you so much,” you said, voice trembling with emotion. “I love you, Luigi.”

“I love you more than anything. Let me show you just how much,” he replied.

His hands caressed your thighs, his lips trailing kisses down your skin. His touch was reverent, almost as if he were worshiping every inch of you, his deep brown eyes gazing up with adoration.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft yet full of conviction. “Every part of you.”

His lips pressed against your pelvis, leaving a trail of warmth and affection that sent a shiver through your body. Each kiss was slow and deliberate, his presence grounding you even as your heartbeat quickened.

“Luigi,” you breathed, your voice trembling with emotion and pleasure. Your hand instinctively reached for his curls, tangling in them as he smiled against your pussy.

“Let me take care of you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me—so patient, so strong.”

Your head tilted back, overwhelmed by the sensation of his devotion. His praises washed over you like a balm, soothing the ache of the days you’d spent apart.

His tongue moved with precision, licking your clit as he used his fingers to spread your juices across your hole. A gasp left your lips as he moved down, slipping his tongue inside your pussy then continuing his movements on your clit.

“You’re everything to me,” he continued, his hands gently gripping your hips as he sucked your clit. “I don’t deserve how good you’ve been throughout this, but I’ll spend my life proving how much I love you.”

His voice alone sent a rush of warmth through you, every syllable filled with sincerity. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as your emotions surged.

Luigi’s lips curved into a small smile. “You’re too good to me, but I’ll never take it for granted.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. Every touch, every flick of his tongue was a promise that he would always cherish you, protect you.

He didn’t rush a single movement, cherishing the connection between you. You cried out as you gripped his curls tighter, your orgasm threatening to spill over.

“God baby, I can feel you clamping around my tongue, it’s okay, you can cum for me,” he urged.

With his name on your lips like a prayer, you trembled as you squirted on his tongue. He slurped your juices, guiding you through your high and savoring your taste.

When he finally finished and stood up, his arms pulled you close, cradling you as if shielding you from the world. “You’re my everything,” he whispered. “I’ll never let anything happen to us. I promise you that.”

Your hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I believe you,” you said softly.

He smiled, brushing a strand of your braids from your face. “Good.”

Luigi’s chuckled as you gently ran your fingers along his chest, stripping him off his clothes then pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed. His dark eyes glimmered with warmth, his hands lightly brushing against your waist.

“You’ve done so much for me,” you murmured, leaning closer, your voice low but full of intent. “Now it’s my turn to show you how much I’ve missed you.”

His gaze softened, his hands sliding to your wrists as if to stop you. “You don’t have to do anything, amore,” he said, his voice tender. “Just having you here, holding you, it’s enough.”

You pouted but decided not to be a brat this once. “Whatever you say baby, anything you want.”

Luigi sat back, his strong arms pulling you onto him as if he couldn’t bear even a second without your closeness. He settled you against his chest, your bodies perfectly aligned, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. “So obedient,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple before moving to your forehead for a lingering kiss.

He tilted your chin up gently, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “I need to hear you say it.”

You nodded, your breath catching. “I’ve been craving this—craving you—this whole time,” you whispered, your words trembling with sincerity.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, one that spoke of everything unspoken, the longing, the love, the relief of being together again. His hands caressed your ass, grounding you as he shifted beneath you.

He paused, his movements deliberate, as he guided his cock against your pussy. “Slowly, baby,” he murmured, his hands firm but gentle on your hips. “I want you to feel every inch of me.”

A gasp escaped your lips as he sank deep inside you, your body adjusting to the slow, deliberate rhythm he set. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with restrained need. “You’re perfect—so tight, so ready for me.”

Your nails dug lightly into his chest as the intensity built, his words spurring you on. “You can take it, baby,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. “You’re so incredible.”

Luigi's praises, whispered against your skin, grounded you in the moment. “You feel like heaven, amore,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he kissed you again, swallowing your soft cries.

Luigi’s grip on your hips tightened, as he guided you into a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust was purposeful, his body rising to meet yours. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline. “You’re so perfect. I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”

You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his curls as he set a steady pace. Every thrust was measured, filling you and making your breath hitch. “You’re taking me so well,” he whispered, his voice breaking with restrained emotion. “I can feel how much you’ve missed me.”

Your head tilted back, exposing your throat as his lips pressed against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that make you shiver. “Luigi,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Shh, amore,” he soothed, his hands running up and down your spine as he adjusted the angle slightly, his cock moving inside your wet pussy deliberate and controlled. “Let me take care of you. Just feel me.”

His thrusts deepened, his hips rolling in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his dark eyes locked on yours, filled with unspoken affection and need. “So perfect for me.”

“Lu— I’m gonna cum,” you cried, your fingers gripping his hair tighter.

“I know baby, do it for me, cum on my cock,” he muttered.

Your body convulsed on top of him, your breath catching in your throat as your orgasm hit you like a truck. He continued thrusting inside you, guiding you through the intensity of the moment.

Without missing a beat, he flipped you so that he was on top of you, his cock still inside you. His soft lips came down onto your tits, swirling his tongue around your nipples as soft whimpers left you. You tried to grip onto him but he pinned your arms above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy.

He thrusted into you deeply, your body jolting upwards as you cried out.

“Oh, fuck, that feels amazing,” you moaned, feeling him continuously brush that sweet spot inside you.

He went faster at your praises, his hips snapping to meet yours. “God, you’re so wet for me, beautiful.”

His large hands gripped your waist, slamming you onto his thick cock. His hand then moved to your lower abdomen, pressing against the outline of his cock moving inside you.

“Feel me baby? Feel how deep I am inside you?” he murmured, pressing on your abdomen and slamming into you.

“S-so deep,” you whimpered.

He reached down to rub your clit, feeling your pussy flutter around him as his pace never faltered.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby, I know you are too. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gonna breed this pretty fucking pussy,” he said.

You wrapped your legs around him, grinding against him. “That’s my good girl, trap me in baby, cum with me while I fuck a baby into you.”

His words sent you over the edge and you moaned his name as you felt his hot load spurt deep inside you. “Take it, take it, take it, beautiful,” he gasped, fucking you as ropes of his cum spurted inside you.

You babbled incoherent words, shivering under him as the intensity of the moment was almost too much.

“Now, when you get pregnant, you’ll always have a piece of me,” he cooed. He stayed buried inside you, relishing in the warmth and wetness of your pussy.

Luigi gently pulled out of you, his hands steady as he helped you shift. His concern for you was immediate, his touch soft as he carefully helped you to your feet. “Let’s take care of you,” he whispered, his voice filled with care. He guided you to the bath, his eyes never leaving you, as if making sure you were okay, every part of you.

He settled behind you in the large, warm tub, the water soothing as he wrapped his arms around you, his chest against your back. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body surround you, as he gently massaged the soap across your skin. His hands were steady and comforting, washing away the physical remnants of the day, but it was more than that—he was taking care of you in every way, his touch full of tenderness and love.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck softly. “I promise, I won’t let them take me away again. We’ll fight this, together.”

You closed your eyes, your heart swelling with emotion as you leaned back against him. His hands gently cupped your face, turning you to look at him. “I really hope so,” you whispered, the fear from earlier still lingering, but his presence grounding you. “I’ll always be by your side, Luigi. No matter what happens.”

He smiled, a soft, knowing smile that reached his eyes. “I know,” he whispered, his voice full of reassurance. “And I’ll never let you go.”

As the warm water surrounded you both, the world outside seemed so far away. All that mattered was the two of you, in that moment, connected in a way that nothing could tear apart.

[mayasaurusss]

hey how are you? could you write jinx x reader? something like jinx taking the reader's virginity. thanks ❤️🫰🏻

My favorite piltie

A/N: Hello! I am okay anon, thanks for asking! Just a bit sad that tomorrow Arcane will end😭.

I want to make it clear that I tried to do this before the next act drops, so I wrote it in two days and some things might not be very good, but I hope you will enojiy it nonetheless!!

Contains: female reader, detailed description of a wound, smut. All characters are 20+ years.

2,8 K/4 pages

When Jinx came knocking at your door tonight, you didn't think you'd end up in this position: her hands gripping at the skin of your chest and with her head buried in it.

The beginning of your night had kicked off with a strange twist when you heard a knock on your fifth floor appartment's window. You gulped down your fear and with a fast beating heart, looked past the window's glass to see a crouching figure with bright pink eyes staring at you. Any other occasion and you would have died on the spot, but you knew who she was. As soon as you opened the window, the figure let herself in, crawling out of the darkness and into the light of your room. "You are so nice letting me in, piltie" she said, and you don't miss the venom laced in the last word she spoke. "Your people aren't really known to be kind" her long fingers mess with the many little trinkets displayed on your shelves, checking their mechanisms and turning their gears.

"What do you want, Jinx?" you can feel a tingling sense of anger inside your skull at her continuous teasings.

You still remember the first time you had seen her, running from enforcers and covering her wounded shoulder.

You knew how ruthless they could be, especially since Miss Kirramman had taken control over the city. In a strange turn of events, you had found her curled up in one of Piltover's abandoned alleys and brought her with you to your home, taking care of her for the next few days until you found your window open and the blue haired criminal nowhere to be seen. During that time, you grew fond of her and were sad when she disappeared. Some weeks had passed and your life continued to flow normally, until she showed up at your door again. You were actually kind of amazed by the fact that she managed to sneak inside the appartment's building without being noticed, but after the third time, when someone called the enforcers on her, she had begun to climb on the building's exterior and knock at your window instead.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to pay a visit to my favorite piltie" she falls back on your bed, sizing you up from head to toe with that smirk of hers that makes your heart beat faster. "That's all?" the mattress dips under your weight as you sit next to her, always keeping your eyes on hers. "Mhmm, maybe" she fishes something from a bag -one you've just noticed- and shakes it: a small glass globe filled with water and fake flakes of snow. The tallest buildings of Piltover reflect the warm lights of your room, making the city of progress look ethereal under the glass. But it wasn't the shiny buildings or the snowflakes that got your attention, but a small name made with metal and gear parts glued to the bottom of the globe. "No way...is this a real Valdiani?!" the shock in your voice makes Jinx's heart flutter, something that she has never experienced before.

She lets out a proud snuff of air from her nose, pushing her chest outwards, "Consider it a gift for my fav- shit!" the sudden swear catches your attention and you look over to see Jinx doubled over. "Jinx! What is going on?!" It's faint, but you can see her hands wrapped tightly around her left side, traces of blood seeping from between her fingers. "Oh shit! Jinx what happened?" she lets out a breathless chuckle, her skin suddenly far paler than normally. "Hah, just some gift the bluebellies have given me" she sucks in a breath when you move her hands, biting a scream away. A deep wound runs along her side, pus forming where her skin had been pulled back from the slash, bleeding red on your covers. You run outside of your room and collect gauze, antiseptic, healing creme and a glass of water.

"Here, bite this" you hand her an old cloth, which she promptly places in between her teeth. "Ready?" she nods, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. The heat of your hand is the only thing that brings her comfort. She isn't ready though when you pour the liquid over her wound: it feels like billions of needles stinging and burning her flesh, making her want to vomit.

"There there, it's over..." you quickly dry her skin and massage the healing cream on her, finally finishing when you cover her stomach with the gauze. She releases a huff of relief, mindlessly tangling her fingers with yours. When the pain subsides, she realizes how close the two of you are. You on your knees, her panting and sweating, how close you are to her and how fast her heart is beating. It would take a second, just a second for her to reach for your lips and melt into you...

"Uh... I- uh, just-, what happened?" you try to not sound too shy but your voice gives your feelings away. "I..." Jinx's throat bobs and it seems that she'd rather curl herself up like a hedgehog than admitting whatever she did. "You know, the usual. Went on a walk, stormed a shop, stole some things, got the enforcers called on me and..." she gestures towards her side, "...this happened".

Jinx isn't clear with her words, but something about the blush on her skin hints at the fact that there may be something else underneath her facade. You might try at least, right? Reaching for the glass globe, you twirl it in your hands, watching the snowflakes fall on Piltover. "Jinx...did you get chased after stealing this?", she doesn't answer, but her shy silence is enough for you.

"Why? Why do this for me?" she pouts her lips before answering, still held back by some sort of pride. "W-what can I say? Anything for my favorite piltie...".

A heavy silence fills the room, of the kind that is difficult to bear.

You can't believe it. You just can't believe that she'd be so reckless, so stupid! It's difficult to bite your anger back, but you do so, and instead of crying or screaming or scolding her, like Jinx thought you were going to do, you just hug her tightly against your chest. Your grip is so strong against her that she feels like she'll choke on it.

But you are so warm in comparison to her body, so, so warm. For the first time in a while, after Silco's death, after Vi's betrayal, after everything went to shit, she feels like she can breathe. And so she does, inhaling your scent in between, tasting it on her tongue. When you pull back, Jinx's eyelids are heavy with want, her mouth slightly open and her skin red.

It takes a second for her lips to push against yours, for her hands to come up and grab your face and pull you down towards her. The kiss is surprisingly tender for it to be Jinx's: you expected teeth and tongue, not pecks and soft touches. The way she sighs and runs her hands on your chest has you keening for her. "Jinx..." a small line of spit connects your lips, and before you can say anything else, she wipes it off on your bottom lip and sighs, "You know what piltie? I think I deserve something too".

Blinking at her a couple of times, she groans at your naivety and continues while taking your cheeks in her hand. "It has been a hard day for me: running from enforcers, bleeding all the way here... I think I deserve a gift too".

And that's where you are now, naked from the waist up with Jinx on your lap, diligently taking what's hers. The way her tongue teases your nipple is something to die for. It seems all her softness has died with the kiss you shared before, now tugging and biting every part of you. You gasp as she bites your nipple, leaving the indents of her teeth on the delicate skin.

"If I knew I could see you all shy and fidgety-" she tugs your left nipple with her long fingers, smiling cruelly when tearing a gasp from you, "...I would have done this earlier". Her lips leave your right nipple, spit chilling the skin, before she teases both of them with the point of her fingernails, moving and tickling them.

Jinx lets out one of those cruel laughs of hers before diving right back on your nipple, giving it one last kiss and moving towards your stomach. She kisses and strokes every one of your scars, every mole or freckle, every inch of skin, until she comes across the hem of your pants. "N-No wait, Jinx..." you place your hand on her forehead, strands of blue hair falling in between your fingers. She halts immediatley at your discomforted voice, billions of little alarms going off in her head and an attentive yet scared look in her eyes. "What is it?".

"I... I have to tell you something" and with that, her heart beats faster and faster and that obnoxious voice inside her head speaks; 'You've hurt her' and 'Look at what you've done' and 'Did you really think she would genuinely like you?'. But your voice is stronger than theirs. "Hey? Is everything alright? We don't have to do this" in the meantime, your hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking at the pale skin. "Yeah I- I am okay. And I want to" her own fingers close in on you and she takes a moment to breathe. Your own warmth is one of the only things that can make her calm. When the voices blur away and only you and her are left, she opens her eyes again, your reflection sharp inside their pink. "What do you have to tell me?" now it was your time to take a breath, because knowing Jinx, she could have two reactions over your news: making fun of you or absolutely losing her shit. "I... I am a virgin".

She takes a moment to process the information and then lets out a wheezing laugh, making blood rise quickly to your face. "That's it?! I thought I accidentally hurt you or something!". The only thing you can do at this point is pout and look away offended. "Oh come on toots" her hands take a hold of your face before turning you to her, who is smiling softly and with tenderness. "I am just kidding. Don't be so moody. And besides..." she captures your lips, biting and licking and sucking until they darken, leaving a faint trace of blood where her teeth were, "...It's so fucking hot".

The descent to get to her prize is tedious and long, but Jinx can't help but want to savor each one of its steps. Her fingers finally hook on the hem of your pants and pull down, revealing your naked thighs to her; the only thing stopping her from claiming her prize is the fabric of your underwear. "Wait a second..." despite how cute you look to her, Jinx rolls her eyes at yet another one of your attempts to stop her. "What, toots? You don't want me to fuck you?" your eyes widen when she so bluntly says that, without an ounce of embarrassment on her face, but continue. "What?! N-no I want to....it's just that..." you eye Jinx's position on the floor. "The wound might be painful if you crouch... I don't want you to hurt yourself".

"So, what do you want me to do?". You look back between Jinx and the plush, comfortable bed, a lightbulb popping off on your head. "Lie on the bed", you say, making Jinx blink a few times before processing and understanding your intentions. "Ohh, I didn't take you for the kinky type, toots". She crawls over the bed, making sure to look as alluring as possible, then lies down with her head pressed on one of your pillows. "There. Do you like this more?" the way that she's so smug about it, with that stupid smirk of hers, makes you want to choke her to death.

"Shut the fuck up", you follow her, placing yourself on each side of her head, feeling her hands rise on your tighs to curl on the soft fabric she so wishes were to disappear. "Hmhm, alright" she eyes the patch of cloth that has begun to show a wet stain, images of what she is going to do to you already flashing in her mind. But this position prevents her from sliding them off without you having to move away from her, and she'd rather keep you and your pussy here. "You know, as much as I love how cute you look with these..." you only have a brief moment to see a malicious glint in her eyes, before she tears your underwear apart, leaving you naked in front of her "I'd much rather have you bare". "Jinx! I just told you to shut up!" it doesn't help that she doesn't mind you and whistles loudly, making you feel more and more embarrassed. "And I -shut up!-. And-and those were expensive! Do you know how-!" but all your words die in your throat when she, with a strength you didn't know she had, pulls you flat against her mouth.

She licks your clit like a starved woman, like it will be the last meal she'll ever have. She doesn't dive right in your pussy, instead takes her sweet time to torture you, making you wish she'd just fuck you already. "Jinx...please, I-" she opens her eyes to see you above her, naked and panting with pleasure, something she only ever dreamt of seeing.

She can't say no to her favorite piltie. Her cold hands grab your ass, propping you up in a new angle on her face so you can't move, but she can do everything she wants to. She spends the next minutes milking your pleasure out of you, before pushing one finger slowly inside of you. You gasp in pain at first, a small trickle of blood wetting your skin and her fingers, and after a few minutes, feeling need arise from the depths of your guts. Jinx's eyes widen when she first feels you move atop her fingers, riding them messily; and she already has a new idea. "No, none of that toots" with her left hand, she yanks your hips down on her fingers, preventing you from moving further. Her next words feel like ice cold water on naked skin; "I won't make you cum if you do it again" and as if that wasn't bad enough, she emphasizes her point with a trust of her fingers. "You will be a good girl, won't you?".

"Yes, yes, yes I will be a good girl..." her smile is all you see before she disappears underneath your thighs. As soon as you get used to the alien feeling of her fingers inside of you, her pace is unrelenting; fast and hard, torturing your clit with her lips. She takes your hips and places your slit directly onto her tongue, forcing you to grind down on it. When you start to wheeze from her touches, she decides to move onto the next phase of her plan. "Hey baby, get up a sec" you would rather keep on grinding on her tongue, but comply anyway. You get up, putting ditance between your slit and her mouth, but while you do, she directly shoves in her fingers, making your legs almost give out. With her other hand she pushes you until your ass is flat against her lap. "Come on, bounce" you don't let her repeat herself twice, already fucking yourself on her fingers at the best of your abilities. What she's seeing is far better than anything she could have ever dreamt of: her favorite piltie bouncing up and down her fingers, eyes heavy and panting above her. And your movements on her own crotch only make her feel more and more euphoric. Oh, if only she could feel you... When she curls her finger on that spot that has you keening, you finally come undone; finger intertwined, billions of stars exploding beneath your eyelids and electricity coursing through your veins. You collapse on her, skin against skin, puffing and gasping for each breath. Your whines reach Jinx's ears and right now, she wants nothing more than to tear orgasms upon orgasms from you, but she'll have to wait.

You roll over, taking a place near her on the bed, shivering from the intensity of your first time. And when Jinx, with a horrifyingly both sweet and sadistic smile turns to you, excitement clear on her face, your pussy clenches around nothing and your blood turns to ice. "So, wanna go again?"