#tipsy tumbles

[yournecessaryevil]

🍸 Tipsy Tumbles 🍸

🖤CHRIS MOTIONLESS X READER ONESHOT🖤

You can usually handle your alcohol pretty well. But when you and your friends go for a fun night out while on tour, it turns out you might not be able to handle your alcohol as well as you usually do...

• fluff; language; adult themes (alcohol use)

☠️ TAGLIST: @krystal-miw-lover

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

He was going to be so mad when he found out.

No, actually, livid was probably the better word for it.

Or at least that's what you thought.

You had met Chris about a year and a half ago, back when they were doing their tour for the album release of Disguise. You had been good friends with one of their makeup artists, Kenzie, the other girl helping you along the road to becoming a rather successful makeup artist, yourself.

And when the guys had been making their rounds on the first leg of their tour, they had all been more than willing to have you join them for the rest of said tour. They were all very welcoming towards you, easily making you feel right at home.

You and the boys got along quite well, a certain camaraderie settling into place amongst all of you. But you had always found Chris to be the most intimidating out of all the guys, and upon telling him so, he had laughed and reassured you that he was not, in fact, as scary as he seemed.

The two of you had become fast friends afterwards, growing rather close with one another over the next couple of months, until the day had come when Chris had taken you completely by surprise, asking you out.

Naturally, you'd said yes, and things afterwards had only grown more intense between the two of you. An entire year had gone by and now the guys were doing another tour, this one being for their newest album release. So when Chris had asked you to join him and his band for their Trinity of Terror tour, you'd quickly agreed.

The tour life was great, you had to admit. But if you were being perfectly honest, there were some days where a break would have been much needed, much appreciated. Which is why you and several of the guys were now headed out for a night in the city, to eat, drink, and be merry... and subsequently drink some more.

You, a few of the guys from Motionless, and even Kenzie had all gone out tonight to try and get a bit of a release from the stress of tour life. You knew Chris didn't drink, so he had stayed behind with the others, asking you to go out and have some fun on his behalf.

And that's exactly what you did.

Kenzie and one of the guys had somehow convinced- or perhaps coerced was the better word- the rest of you all to do shots at some club they had found in downtown Seattle.

You had only done about three shots so far, but you were already starting to feel the effects of the alcohol burning through your throat and your veins, the fire spreading and creating a feeling of warmth and freedom within you.

Normally, you could handle your alcohol just fine, but you knew that it'd only be a matter of time before it would affect you more than even you could manage. Kenzie had announced rather proudly earlier that evening that she could out-drink everyone involved tonight, and you knew damn well it wasn't just talk.

She was already on her sixth shot of the night, but you knew what she was like. It wasn't even a buzz for her at this point. You, however? You reached over, tapping her on the shoulder and giving her a grin when she turned to face you.

"My head doesn't feel pretty yet!" you called over the loud bass music reverberating through the club's speakers. Kenzie shot you an answering smile, looking very much the cat that ate the canary. "You need more alcohol in you, that's why!" she laughed.

She was right; Chris had told you to have fun, right...? Technically, you wouldn't be breaking any rules if you did indeed have maybe one more shot... or two. Or three.

You nodded, happily accepting the shot Kenzie passed down to you, making eye contact with Vinny along the way. He shot you a grin, raising a brow at you. "Not buzzed enough yet?" he called out. You shook your head, grinning back at him before downing the shot.

As before, the alcohol burned a streak down the back of your throat, setting your soul alight and making your head feel a little lighter than before. Kenzie was right; more was better...

More was not better.

More had actually been an awful idea, in retrospect. But for now, it seemed like the greatest thing on the face of the earth.

Your head did indeed feel rather pretty, although if you were being honest, it was getting a little too warm here in the club. But that could just be the alcohol. You also really had to pee, which wasn't helping you out any.

Reaching over, you tapped Kenzie on the shoulder, getting her attention. "Hey, Kenz, be right back, got to pee!" you called out over the music. She arched a brow at you, looking you up and down. "You gonna be okay on your own?" she called back.

You waved her off with a smile, clumsily sliding down off your barstool. "M'good! Be right back!" you answered, stumbling past her and the guys. You could swear you heard one of them make a comment about you being a lightweight, but you weren't sure.

All you knew was your head felt rather nice but you had to pee. Unfortunately for you, there was a line outside the restroom, which meant you had to wait. Heaving a sigh, you leaned back against the wall, pulling your phone from your back pocket and powering it on.

You were scrolling through Instagram when you stumbled across a picture some fan account had posted of Chris, and that's when an idea popped into your head. Grinning and trying not to laugh, you opened your text messages, typing out a quick text to Chris. His reply came back in an instant, so you sent him another.

Like before, he instantly texted you back, and you grinned when you saw his reply.

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped when you read his text. You'd definitely been drinking tonight, and it felt fine. He didn't need to know how much you'd had though, right...? You typed out a cheeky reply to his text, hitting send and waiting for him to respond.

Not even a minute later, your phone pinged in your hand, and when you read his text, your heart skipped a beat, tripping over itself within your ribcage.

Aw, fuck.

Okay, so in hindsight, drunk texting him may not have been the greatest idea after all. Shit, what were you supposed to do now?? If you called him like he wanted, you had no idea what would be waiting for you on the other end. Still... he had always been rather understanding and caring towards you... hadn't he?

Your heart racing and your nerves rattled, you hit the call button, bringing your phone up to your ear, trying to listen over the sound of the music from the club. Finally, after two rings, you heard Chris pick up on the other end, and your heart nearly stopped as you greeted him.

"H-hello?"

"Aren't you worried about her though? Being out with them? Here in Seattle?"

Shevy arched a brow at Chris, a bemused little smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

He could feel the others watching him, waiting to see what he'd say. Instead, he just shrugged, returning her smile.

"Not really, no. They're responsible, they'll keep an eye on her for me. I mean, I did tell her to go out and have some fun for me, so... you know. Not too worried. Besides, Y/N can handle herself just fine," he answered.

Right at that exact moment, his phone chimed from over on the side table, and he reached for it with a grin, briefly raising both brows at Shevy. "Bet you that's her," he said, glancing down at the screen. Indeed, it was her.

She seemed like she was having fun, definitely in a great mood, that was a good sign...

And then he reread the texts she'd sent him.

"Aw, fuck..." he swore under his breath, quickly typing out a reply asking her how much she'd had to drink, and promptly hitting send.

Y/N's text came back not even a second later, and the smile dropped from Chris's face when he read it.

Oh, hell no.

She was not, in fact, good.

"Fuck," Chris swore again, trying his best to ignore the stares he could feel coming from everyone else.

"What's up? Is it Y/N?" he heard someone ask. He held up a finger before typing out a reply, hitting send.

"Yeah, give me a second. She's... fuck. I gotta take this," he answered, right as his phone rang. He answered on the second ring, Y/N's voice just barely audible over the loud music he could hear in the background.

"H-hello?"

"How much?" he asked.

There was a brief moment of silence, and for a second, he thought she'd disappeared on him. And then he heard her voice on the other end.

"I don't wanna tell you..." her words came out sounding a little slurred, a clear sign she'd had far too much to drink tonight.

"Y/N. How much?" he repeated, his tone a little more firm.

Another brief moment of silence passed by, before she answered him again, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like "Too much."

Goddammit. They were all supposed to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn't have too much to drink tonight! Then again, he hadn't exactly told them that, not before they'd left.

This was just... absolutely fucking perfect.

Chris took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. Only then did he hear Y/N's voice on the other end again.

"...mad at me?" was all he heard.

His heart sunk a little at her words, hearing her ask him if he was mad at her. It took him at least a full minute before he could answer her, and when he did, there was silence on the other end.

"No. I'm not mad. Well, not at you."

Seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, before he could hear the music in the background grow quieter, and Y/N's voice a little louder.

"But still mad..." he heard her say, the syllables all running into each other.

He was indeed still mad, but not at her. No, he was more mad at himself, really, for not making the decision to go with her and keep an eye on her himself that night. But it was out of his hands now, the damage was already done.

"Where are you, where did Kenz and the guys take you?" he asked, after a minute's pause.

There was more silence on the other end, and if he listened hard enough, he was pretty sure he could hear Y/N using the restroom. Finally, she answered him, only two words being spoken over the line.

"Club Trinity."

Fuck, that was very downtown Seattle.

Still, he knew what needed to be done.

"Alright, I know where that is. Have the guys wait with you out front and stay there. Do not leave, understood? I'm coming to get you," Chris spoke rather firmly before hanging up, not even waiting to hear Y/N's reply.

There was silence all around, until someone quietly spoke up.

"Was that Y/N? Is she okay?"

Chris stood up with a sigh, running one hand through his hair, all traces of his earlier good mood now gone.

"Yeah. That was Y/N. And now I need to go and bring her home," he muttered.

Someone laughed, causing a spark of irritation to build up within him.

"Eyy, no fucking way, did she get shitfaced drunk tonight??"

Chris shot whoever it was a brief glare, before turning and heading for the door. "Yeah. My poor sweet girlfriend had one too many," he threw over his shoulder, before abruptly leaving.

Hopefully he'd make it in time...

He was mad, you could tell that much.

Sure, he'd said he wasn't mad at you, but the doubt was still there.

You stumbled back out into the club, quickly locating Kenzie and everyone else.

As you approached them, Ryan took one look at your face and winced. "Ooh, you guys, we need to get her outside. She doesn't look too good," he called out over the music.

Kenzie turned to look over her shoulder at you, and like Ryan, she winced.

"Yeah, you look a little tipped, babes!" she called out to you.

Bit ironic, really; you'd felt fine up until they'd both said something. But now you were starting to feel... not so good. In fact, you were pretty sure you were about five seconds away from throwing up in the club.

Everything was too warm, too loud, your head didn't feel quite as pretty as it had a few moments ago, and you knew without a doubt that when Chris showed up, he was going to be very disappointed in you, especially given the state you were currently in.

He had told you to go out and have some fun on his behalf, but this... nothing about this felt fun right now. Your eyes met Kenzie's, and you barely had time to mouth the word "Help" before you could feel the room begin to fall sideways... or was that you?

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ryan and someone else reach out towards you, and not even a second later, you were being led out of the now fully packed club, out into the chilled night air. "Should we tell Chris?" you heard someone ask, from your left.

"He already knows..." you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

"He already- how?" that same voice from before asked.

"She probably texted him while waiting to pee," you heard Kenzie murmur.

"Called him.." you answered, the syllables tripping over each other.

"Wait, you called him?" she asked, moving to stand in front of you.

You looked up, seeing her raise an eyebrow at you, and you nodded. But that brief little movement had a rather violent effect on you; your head felt too light, it felt too wrong, you felt like you were going to throw up, and oh gods no-

"You guys, look out, I think she's gonna be sick-" you heard Vinny warn the others.

Someone took you by the wrist, leading you over to the edge of the curb, and they had just enough time to move out of your way before you immediately threw up everything you'd drank that night.

You could feel the tears slip from the corners of your eyes, and oh fuck, how your throat felt so raw after this!

Never again, you were never drinking again after this, if this is how badly it would affect you.

Your shoulders shook with quiet sobs as you threw up, and from your left, you could hear the sudden approach of a vehicle, the tires screeching against the pavement. The sound of a car door slamming shut was heard, followed almost immediately by a voice you were both equal parts relieved and dreading to hear.

"Is she okay-" you heard Chris ask someone. His question was promptly followed by a muttered expletive, and a minute later, you could smell his familiar scent nearby, a woodsy smell reminiscent of cedarwood and dark amber.

You felt one of his hands on your back, the other holding your hair out of the way for you as you continued to dry heave over the pavement, until there was nothing left.

You let out a quiet sniffle, more tears leaking from your eyes as you straightened up again, your gaze meeting Chris's. You were rather surprised to see nothing but soft worry in those warm brown eyes of his, eyes you could get lost in, holy fuck, they were pretty-

"Y/N."

Only then did you realize that he had been trying to get your attention, while you'd been standing there staring at him.

"How much did you have to drink tonight?" he asked you. One of his hands moved to gently cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tear tracks that rested there.

That small gesture, his whole demeanor, it was taking you entirely by surprise. You had thought for sure he'd be absolutely livid when he saw the fragile state you were in, but no... he was completely gentle with you, protective, he really was worried about you.

You swallowed hard, hating how raw your throat felt from the alcohol (and the subsequent expulsion of said alcohol).

"Three? F-four? Whatever number comes after six..." you whispered, your gaze dropping from his. You didn't want to see the look on his face when you told him.

"More than you can handle, apparently. I think maybe we've overdone it tonight, Tipsy Tumbles," Chris spoke softly.

"We weren't trying to get her wasted, I promise. I didn't know she'd had that much to drink, she seemed to be doing okay after her third," someone suddenly spoke up.

You snuck a glance at Chris then, waiting to see his reaction. But he sighed, shaking his head at whoever it was that had spoken.

"No, I know. I probably should've warned you guys to watch out for her. That, or I should've been here to watch her myself. But what's done is done. I'm gonna take her home, are you guys gonna be okay out here?" he answered.

"Yeah, we'll probably stick around here for a bit and we'll head home later," Kenzie said, shooting you an apologetic look. "Sorry tonight didn't go well for you, babes," she said softly.

Your throat felt so dry, you didn't think you could gather up an answer for her, so you just nodded. You could feel a headache starting to form between your brows and behind your eyes; tonight had indeed taken a rather unpleasant turn. You were going to be so hungover tomorrow, fuck...

"Hey. Come here, come on. Let's go home, yeah?" Chris reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You nodded again, letting him lead you towards his car parked by the curb, your thoughts still much too loud in your head for the time being.

×♡×♡×♡×

Silence had fallen over the dark car interior for most of the drive home, until Y/N's voice finally broke the quiet.

"...you mad at me?" Chris heard her whisper.

She still thought he was mad at her?

"No. Never. Disappointed, maybe," he answered quietly.

There was a soft, humorless laugh from the passenger seat, and when he glanced over at Y/N, she had a rather rueful little half-smile on her face.

"Why does that feel worse?" she asked, her voice barely above a murmur.

"Because you've never done anything to warrant my disappointment before? At least not until now?" he answered.

There was a moment's pause before Y/N answered him, her voice quiet again.

"Yeah, maybe."

Her words were still a little slurred, but not as badly as they had been before. That had scared Chris more than even he wanted to admit.

Hearing her unable to form proper sentences, unable to take care of herself like that, he'd never seen her like that before. He didn't like it, he didn't like how vulnerable she was, how vulnerable she would've been to someone else.

"I think the important thing is, you're here now and you're okay. But... just for future reference, what have we learned from this, angel?" he asked, after a moment's silence.

Y/N's response was immediate, firm.

"Don't drink 'nymore."

He had to fight hard to keep the smile off his face when he heard her answer.

"Well, no, I mean... well, if that's your decision, then yeah, I suppose. But I meant, if you're going to go out to have drinks with someone else, maybe let's not overdo it again? Maybe limit ourselves a little there, Tipsy Tumbles?" he said, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Y/N stick her tongue out at him, although he swore he could see a brief smile of her own on her face.

"You keep calling me that," she sighed.

Chris was unable to hide his grin that time.

"Because you are. You're my little Tipsy Tumbles," he said, giving her a brief wink.

"Hey," he continued, bringing the car to a stop at a red light and glancing over at her, "for what it's worth, I'm glad you're okay. Kind of out of it, sure, but... you know."

She shot him a rather shy sideways glance, before nodding towards the front windshield. "Light's green..." she whispered softly.

"And thank you," she added a moment later, reaching over to place her hand in his.

As he drove the two of them home, he happened to look over and see that Y/N had fallen asleep, a barely visible smile on her face as she slept.

Tonight hadn't gone exactly as planned, that much was clear. But at least now Y/N knew her true limits when it came to alcohol. It was one of the biggest reasons he himself didn't drink.

He didn't see the appeal in it, couldn't fathom why anyone would want to surrender their free will and their clear conscience like that.

To him, it was just another of the many dark vices of the world concealed as a sweet, seductive promise, just waiting to trap another unsuspecting soul in its grip.

He hadn't fallen for it then, and he wouldn't now. He was just more than a little disappointed that his sweet girl had fallen for it. But it wasn't her fault, he knew that. Things with this tour had been kind of a strain on everyone involved, and she had wanted a night out, a brief escape.

He could understand that, hell, he'd lived it.

At the end of the day, he was simply glad that she was alright, that she was at least living and making the most of it. He couldn't fault her for that...

×♡×♡×♡×

"So... is she gonna be okay?"

Vinny's voice cut through the silence, a note of worry concealed within his words.

Chris nodded, casting a brief glance over his shoulder at the stairs. When they had gotten home, he had immediately taken Y/N upstairs to put her to bed, not leaving until he was sure that she wouldn't throw up in the middle of the night.

Kenzie and the guys hadn't come back until close to 1 am, the scent of alcohol surrounding the entire group. At least they'd all had a good time of it...

"Yeah, she's going to be okay. She'll have one fucking hell of a hangover when she wakes up, but other than that... she's okay. We've sort of come to an agreement that she's going to limit herself next time," Chris answered.

"Although," he added with a grin, "from what she told me, I don't think she's gonna touch another drink again, not for a long while."

There was an answering laugh from Ryan, followed by Kenzie's amused "Can you really blame her though?"

He couldn't, no. He had seen how badly tonight had affected her, even she'd seen it, despite the fragile state she'd been in. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if the next time everyone else went out, she'd stay home with him. But that was more than okay, the two of them could make their own fun...

If he had to admit it to himself though, he did get kind of a small laugh, going back and rereading the texts she'd sent him. She'd been rather bold tonight, hadn't she? It was one of the many reasons he had fallen so fast and so hard for her, she could easily match him wit for wit, but she made it look so fucking adorable...

As he sat there, Chris found himself missing her even though she was just upstairs. But that was alright, tomorrow would come soon enough, and she'd need him as much as he needed her, Tipsy Tumbles and all...

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

A/N: Here we have it, the second oneshot to be released! Please, let me know if you guys like these, because me being me, I am TERRIBLE with social cues. 🤭 Also, be on the lookout, there's gonna be another oneshot coming up soon, as well as a potential series involving Demon! Chris x Reader! 😏🤘🏻🖤 Thanks for reading, and stay spooky, my fellow Creatures!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

[historicity-was-already-taken]

I’m a plus one at a wedding and they’re playing the best of pop punk and I got into an intensive conversation with someone’s grandpa about Mordechai Anielewicz and the Jewish Fighting Organiation YAS BJTCH THIS IS THE ANTHEM

[rjhpandapaws]

Hey yall, im getting drunk tonight so ask me anything!!

[xenojones]

synthwave is a good genre because it makes it easy to daydream about fictional boys fucking in the back of a nightclub

[stormwaterwitch]

You'd be the patron saint of theming; able to find the right pictures and clips, the colors and sounds to completely expand a concept from theoretical to understandable.

my brain is a jumble of gifs 24/7 and I absolutely love you and adore this patron saint claiming

[greyeyedmonster-18]

how do we feel about sharks?

Bestie.

I fucking LOVE sharks. Everything about them. They have SO MANY teeth. I think an extra row????? Its INCREDIBLE. i collect them. Also the way they protect each other in ocean???

They get a bad rep for "attacks" but like WERE the ones swimming in THEIR home.

[sailoraquila]

You'd be the patron saint of magical girls (and adjacent folk) and getting things published.

~Jasper

Gods the depths with which I love you are bottomless

[xoamiiren]

MOONSTRUCK , ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 crazy over you

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, sunghoon’s feelings for you start to feel like more than he can handle… PAIRING. smitten!sunghoon x tipsy!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, mentions of drinking

authors note ୨୧ I have nothing to say. get into it hoon!

─────────

You were… tipsy. Sunghoon knew that much. The proof was in the flush that colored your cheeks, a vivid contrast against your bonze-toned skin.

Despite the alcohol in both your systems, it didn’t take away from the fact that his mind was reeling.

The two of you had been in attendance for Jake’s birthday trip. A small , cozy gathering at his grandparent’s lakehouse for the weekend.

After a day filled with laughter, games, and a few drinks, the group had winded down for the night.

It was late, and you and Sunghoon were the last ones still awake, sitting on the porch talking under a shared fluffy blanket. It was nice… comforting. Just the two you, sharing quiet laughs and whispered stories under the stars.

But, Sunghoon couldn’t defy the nagging urge at the back of his mind to tell you. Tell you he was in love with you, so in love that it hurt.

It had started to get chilly, and with the others already asleep, you had both decided to move inside to a guest room with two twin beds—it was the only available space left.

Too relaxed to worry about where else to go, you agreed to take up the two beds, facing each other with drowsy eyes and lingering smiles.

As time passed, still laying in silence, Sunghoon couldn’t help but begin to toss and turn with the intention of sleep. The silence that was strangely comforting before, had started to become deafening, heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Sunghoon rolled over to face you, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you blinking slowly, eyes glazed over yet intensely focused on him.

“You know…” His voice broke the silence, low and hesitant, almost drowned by the pounding of his own heart.

“Hm?” Your eyebrows arched, your gaze still locked on his, those large, innocent eyes piercing through the darkness.

“It’s… it’s nothing.” The courage he had mustered slipped away like sand through his fingers.

“What…?” your voice was soft, the edges frayed with weariness.

“I… really, it’s nothing.”

The silence returned, thicker this time, a suffocating blanket that wrapped around you both.

“Can you sleep now…? Are you sleepy…?” he murmured, voice hushed as though even in the solitude, someone might overhear.

“Mm…” you nodded, pushing yourself up to a sitting position, rubbing your eyes with a pout that made his heart tighten.

“I think I’ll sleep there.”

Sunghoon’s heart skipped a beat, then raced ahead as you slipped from your bed and into his own with a graceful clumsiness that only you could achieve.

When you landed with a soft thud, your noses were mere inches apart, your hushed giggles mingling with his own chuckles as you adjusted yourself under the covers, and rolled over so your back was pressing against his chest.

Warmth flooded Sunghoon’s senses, as if the bed weren’t already small enough. He prayed you could feel the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat against your back…

Feel how fast it was racing. How honest would that be?

You were so warm…

“Use my arm as a pillow…” he offered, his voice barely a whisper as you lifted your head to rest on his arm.

“Why…?” you asked, your voice a breathy murmur.

“So we can be closer…” he answered, the words tumbling out in a rush, his heart still pounding.

You stayed like that, the quiet punctuated only by the sound of your breathing, soft and steady. You shifted again, clearly in discomfort, and a breathy chuckle escaped Sunghoon’s lips.

“Why didn’t you bring your pillow over…?” he teased, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you.

You glanced dismissively at the abandoned pillow on your abandoned bed before your gaze snapped back to him, piercing him to the core.

Your glassy eyes glittered under the moonlight streaming in through the window, long lashes casting delicate shadows on your flushed cheeks as you blinked slowly.

You were… breathtaking. Sunghoon’s heart constricted painfully at the sight of you.

Slowly, you reached up to smooth down your own bedhead, and without thinking, Sunghoon followed suit, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with trembling fingers.

Your eyes never wavered from his, tracing his every feature, studying him with an intensity that left him breathless.

What were you thinking? He could never tell, and as of right now… he was desperate.

You blinked slowly, your lips parting as you finally broke the thickening silence.

“Is this… not a good idea?” your voice was soft, laced with innocence yet tinged with a challenge, your doe eyes searching his own for an answer.

“No…” His voice was hoarse, his throat dry, but he kept his gaze steady on yours.

“It’s good.” He added, pulling the comforter snugly around you both.

“Hm?” you hummed, your eyebrows lifting ever so slightly in curiosity.

“It’s definitely good…” he repeated, his words barely more than a breath.

You smiled then, a fleeting, gentle curve of your lips before your expression softened once more, your eyes large and unblinking.

Sunghoon fought to contain himself, the air between them thick with tension, every innocent thought he tried to hold onto slipping away. God, you were divine.

So pretty, it hurt.

You pulled the covers tighter around your chest, your hands disappearing beneath them. Just then, Sunghoon could feel your cool, slender fingers intertwining with his.

The touch seemed almost electric, almost overwhelming, as you slowly and carefully guided his hand down the length of your body, the soft fabric of your sleep shirt barely a barrier to the heat of your skin, which felt like a burn the moment you guided his hand beneath it.

His heart thundered in his chest, anticipation and desire warring within him, but he never broke eye contact.

Your gaze dared him, testing his resolve with a demure boldness that sent shivers down his spine.

His breath caught as your hand guided his lower, fingers brushing the waistband of your shorts. He watched your expression shift ever so subtly, your lips falling open the slightest bit more, your eyes darkening with something he couldn’t quite name, and yet the innocence remained.

Your head tilted back faintly, almost in a pleading nod when he pressed his fingers down to apply pressure, his palm settling on your lower belly. 

Feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his touch, the tension in the air was almost unbearable.

Finally, Sunghoon tore his gaze from yours, letting out a shaky breath as his head fell back onto the pillow you now shared, his hand slipping from your grasp.

You watched him, silent, your chest rising and falling with a matching intensity.

You were nervous, scared…? Excited?

Sunghoon raked a hand through his hair, a pained laugh escaping his lips as he groaned in frustration, draping a heavy arm across your waist.

“(Y/n)…” he whispered, your name like a prayer on his lips.

The bashful grin on his face failed to go away, he could feel the warmth of a fresh blush dancing across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears.

You said nothing, simply turning your head away and closing your eyes, seeking solace in sleep, an escape from the tension threatening to suffocate you both.

Sunghoon lay still, staring into the dimness of the room, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

He tugged at the covers, fidgeting restlessly, squeezing his eyes shut in a desperate bid for sleep.

But the racing of his heart wouldn’t let him rest.

He sat up once more, needing air, needing water, needing…

And then, your eyes fluttered open as you looked up at him again. Without a word, you grabbed his chin, pulling him down into a kiss that stole his breath away.

Sunghoon’s heart nearly exploded, a small sound of surprise catching in his throat as he melted into the kiss, your soft hum of pleasure reverberating through him.

Suddenly you shifted, and it was Sunghoon lying on his back, your lips never leaving his until you broke away, straddling him with careful, deliberate movements, as if afraid of causing him harm.

His heart swelled with emotion as he gazed up at you, completely captivated by the girl who had just turned his world upside down.

“Did I keep you waiting…?” you whisper, expression filled with worry despite your rose dusted cheeks.

“So long… I waited so long.”, Sunghoon teased, squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs as you giggled softly and captured his lips again.

[twilghtkoo]

to be loved is to be seen.

pairings. idol!jungkook x reader

genres/aus. fluff, established relationship, idol!au

warnings. mentions of smoking and alcohol

masterlist

—

“i’m going to use the bathroom real quick.” you tell jungkook as you lift yourself off the couch. he’s quick to stand up with you but you lightly push him down, your index finger grazed against his skin from the buttons on his shirt being unbuttoned and exposing a bit of his chest.

you shake your head. “stay, i’ll be back.” you say while pulling one side of his shirt closed to hide the bareness. girls have been staring at him and trying to come up to him and it’s getting annoying.

his bottom lip is pushed out slightly, pouting before he lets you go alone.

jungkook watches you make it to the stairs until you disappear from his sight.

you’re thankful the bathroom wasn’t occupied and you could easily walk in, locking the door behind you.

anxious thoughts invade your mind. the five drinks you’ve had can’t even cloud your thoughts nor make you tipsy enough—curse your body for not being a lightweight.

jungkook’s friends had invited you two to a party and originally he didn’t want to go because you were with him and he wanted to be with you. but he barely gets to see his friends and it’s been awhile since he’s been out with them. it took a bit to persuade him but he gave in on the exception that you came. and you didn’t mind. you thought it would be fun. it was fun.

but his friends aren’t your friends and your social battery around strangers tends to drain fast. they’re nice people and all, but now you just want to go home.

this was your idea you know… yeah well, you’re gonna tough it out for him because he’s having a good time and you’re gonna do anything for him. good pep talk!

“__?” three soft knocks and his sudden voice makes you jump, realizing you’ve been standing in front of the sink, stuck in your head.

“hang on!” you shout out, quickly using the restroom and washing your hands before you step out to meet the boy on your mind.

his eyes find yours quickly, trying to decipher any changes in your body language or to read anything going on behind your orbs.

“you okay? you’ve been in there for awhile so i came up to check on you.” he asks with concern in his voice.

you try to smile but it comes out small. “yeah, sorry,” you opened your mouth to continue but nothing comes out.

a couple drunkenly tumbles up the stairs, heading towards you both but he’s quick to grasp onto your waist and move you both against the wall. the couple passes you and disappears into a room, slamming the door behind them.

both of you slowly turn your heads to look at each other with raised eyebrows and you burst into fits of laughter. him still holding onto you, as you two start to quiet down. the scent of his cologne and cigarettes permeated your nostrils, remembering him and his friends were outside smoking earlier. in the early stages of you two dating, the smell used to bother you, so jungkook had the notion to smoke outside shirtless so the smell doesn’t catch onto his clothes and to brush his teeth so he can kiss you easily. now you’re used to it.

suddenly, he’s gazing down upon you. “you tired?”

immediately shakes your head, “no.”

he lets out a deep breath and hums, sliding a hand into the front pocket of his jeans before throwing the other over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as he guides you downstairs.

“well i am. let’s go home.” he declares, his head turning left and right to find where his friends went while you just gawk at him.

but you don’t say nothing.

once you both reach his group of friends, they’re heads turn towards you both. “guys i’m feeling tired so we’re gonna head home.”

“what, already?”

“that’s cool, thanks for coming man.”

you released yourself from jungkook so they could bid their manly goodbyes, them also thanking you for coming and saying it was good to see you.

jungkook links his hand with yours as you both make your way out the building onto the streets. with your hand in his, he brings it up to his face and softly kisses the back of it three times.

you fondly stare at him before hanging your head as you watch both your pairs of feet walk in sync.

“sorry i made you leave early, i know you said you were tired because of me. i didn’t mean to force you to leave ‘cus i know you were having fun–“

he stops in his tracks and squeezes your hand. “baby, ever since i met you, the thought of being without you made me crazy. so what makes you think i’d want to be out without you?” he expresses, taking your face in the palm of his hands and pressing his lips against yours in a short kiss. “plus, being at home in bed with you honestly sounds really fucking good right now.”

a timid smile stretched onto your lips before you reached on your tippy toes to kiss him again. “i love you.”

“i love you, silly. now let’s go home. are you hungry, ‘cus im craving ramen and i might make some when we get home.”

“ramen actually sounds really good right now.”

it’s 3am as i finish this so enjoy another self indulgent jungkook brain rot :D the way ill be at an outing w family or friends having fun but then two hours pass and with the snap of fingers i go quiet and have a rbf and i’m ready to go home and be in bed💀 anyway likes & reblogs are v much appreciated !! stay safe and healthy <33

[foxy-eva]

Love Potion

Summary: Spencer learns that alcohol makes his girlfriend very affectionate (and maybe a little too honest) 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: (16+ for sexual content) drinking alcohol (Reader is tipsy), love confession, suggestiveness, heavy kissing, mild embarrassment

Word count: 1.2k

Masterlist

Spencer thought he knew what would be expecting him when he agreed to pick you up from girl's night. He was wrong. 

He should have known by your barely decipherable text message that you might have had a little too much fun tonight. What really gave it away though was your high-pitch scream once you saw your gorgeous boyfriend enter the bar you texted him from earlier. 

"Spencer!!" You yelled while reaching out your arms for him. "I missed you!"

You almost knocked him over once he was within reach which prompted your friends to break out in a fit of laughter. 

"Hi pretty girl," Spencer chuckled. "Having fun?"

You pressed a quick peck on his lips and giggled, "Yeah, now that you're here!" 

"I thought you wanted me to drive you home?" 

"Exactly," you agreed. "That's where the fun part starts."

A very obvious rosy shade spread over Spencer's cheeks while your all female audience began making raunchy comments. Before you had a chance to explain to them in detail what you wanted to happen once you got home, your boyfriend was quick to place his arm around your waist to lead you to his car. 

"You're so beautiful, do you know that?" You slurred while Spencer made sure you were buckled up in the passenger seat. 

"You tell me quite frequently, actually."

"Because it's true! Derek is so right for calling you pretty boy. You're the prettiest of aaall the boys in the world." 

Spencer smiled at you before he started the car. "Yeah? Well, just for the record, I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

His words made you needy for more than just sweet talk. 

“Take me home before I start taking my clothes off right here,” you cooed. 

Spencer took his eyes off the road to look at you for a moment. A not-so-innocent smirk was spread over your cheeks and you noticed the rosy color on his face turning a shade darker. 

“You're going to be the end of me,” Spencer groaned.

A few suggestive comments from you later your flustered boyfriend turned into the parking lot at your apartment. You were barely inside your apartment when you swung your arms around his neck to find his mouth in a hasty kiss. Both of you almost tumbled over but Spencer managed to keep you upright with his arms around your waist. 

The taste of ethanol on your tongue was almost as intoxicating as your actions and Spencer had trouble not to give into your pleas right then and there in your hallway. It was obvious that he tried to hold back but his body gave away how much he enjoyed your enthusiasm.  

“Slow down,” he breathed against your lips, “You’re drunk.” 

“I’m just a little tipsy,” you reassured him as you pressed your body against his. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Spencer answered you with some curse words that you had never heard from him before. The pace of your actions were too much for him to grasp and suddenly he wasn’t sure if you were the only inebriated one there. Like a besotted fool he followed you to the couch where you climbed into his lap like a queen sitting down on a throne. 

“What are you doing to me?” He purred as you kissed down his neck.

“You’re smart, I’m sure you can figure it out,” you snickered before biting down on his pulse point. 

You felt his throat vibrate against your lips as a deep groan fell from his mouth. It wasn’t the first time you got to experience him that way but you were aware that the alcohol in your bloodstream made you more affectionate than usual. 

It also made your tongue loose but you realized that too late. 

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered when your lips brushed over his ear. 

“Wh… What?”

His response wasn’t what you expected. You sat up straight to be able to look into his eyes. The gold of his irises radiated a warmth unlike anything you had ever experienced. It took you a moment to find your words again. 

“I know we’ve only been dating for a few weeks and that I haven’t said it before, but it’s true!” You began rambling in a way you usually expected from Spencer. Your lips found his in another, more chaste kiss before you repeated, “I love you.” 

It was as if Spencer had forgotten how to form words. He just stared at you with wide eyes and the sweetest smile forming on his face. 

After a few moments of silence you wondered, “Are you not gonna say it?” 

He shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I can be sure you’ll remember it the next morning.” 

That was enough for you for now. You got up from your boyfriend’s lap to lead him into your bedroom. He followed without hesitation, already suspecting that whatever you had in mind wouldn’t actually be happening. 

And he was right. The moment you lay down in your bed with Spencer’s arms securely wrapped around you, you dozed off. He gently kissed your cheek before placing the blanket over your body. 

“Goodnight, sleepy girl.”

When you woke up the next morning it took just a few seconds for you to realize that you had enough alcohol to spill the truth but not enough to forget about it. It didn’t surprise you that you didn’t find Spencer sleeping beside you, certain that you must have scared him off after your cocktails had somehow turned into love potions. 

The morning shower helped to clear your head but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. The longer you thought about it, the more embarrassed you got about not keeping your mouth in control after just a little bit of liquid courage. 

It took you by surprise to find your boyfriend sitting on your couch when you stumbled out of the bedroom. 

“You’re still here!” You squeaked and he began chuckling. 

“Where else would I be?” 

You sat down beside him and took the coffee mug out of his hand to take a sip. 

He leaned towards you to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “How are you feeling?”

You felt your face heat up when you thought about what you said last night. “Mortified.”

The amusement in his voice wasn’t lost on you when he nonchalantly asked, “And why is that?” 

You placed the coffee mug on the table to bury your face in your hands, whining, “You know why!”

Spencer placed his hands on yours to move them away from your face while he chuckled, “Oh you mean the fact that you told me you’re hopelessly in love with me?” 

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t use those exact words!”

He kept teasing you as he pulled you into his arms, “Are you questioning my eidetic memory?”

“If your memory is so perfect, you should remember what you told me then,” you reminded him before his mouth met yours. 

“I do remember,” he mumbled against your lips. 

“Yeah?” You breathed between kisses. 

He pulled back to lock eyes with you. His hand gently brushed over your cheek before he finally whispered, “I love you, too.” 

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @purpledsky @super-nerd22

[luveline]

Omg I love the hot bombshell bau reader x Spencer!! Could you write a scenario with them when the team is out drinking and she’s flirting with him even more & she can take it a lil further because they’re not in work? Thank you🥰

thank you for your request! this isn't a perfect fit of what you asked for but I hope you like it! fem!reader, 1k

"Psst! Psst!" Your perfume floats his way. "Spencer!" 

Spencer turns to your whisper shouting, much less whisper than you probably mean it to be. You're as in his personal space as you can manage without falling into his lap. Luckily, the rest of the team seem to be more interested in the previously unheard story Emily's deigned to tell about a Sin to Win weekend in Atlanta, and no one turns to investigate your secret.

"What?" he asks.

"Can you get me another drink?" you whisper. You insisted on sitting next to him, your breath sharp with cherry liqueur. If you hadn't, he would've tried to make it this way anyhow.

It's not fair. You've drunk enough to get cut off and still you look so pretty, bombshell through and through —there's no other word for it. Your eyes are glittering and unsmudged despite an evening of laughter and a pitcher's worth of bourbon bombs, and they're looking at him with this weird pinching pleading that makes his stomach twist. 

"I don't think you should have anything else." 

"Spence…" You put your hand on his thigh. Not cupping it, nowhere inappropriate, just your fingertips pressed to the fabric of his pants as you twist in your seat to beg. "Please, Spencer. Please." 

He really likes you, and this tone you're using threatens to haunt him forever. Resigned, he moves your hand off of his leg and grabs your empty glasses. "A spritzer," he says, standing up from the booth. "That's it." 

"Hey, no," JJ says, her thin brows pinching as she smiles, perplexed. "She's cut off." 

"That's why Spencer's going to get it for me. He's my angel," you brag, words tipping, tumbling all over the place. 

Spencer looks at the disapproving expressions on their faces, Hotch, Emily, Derek and JJ all looking as though they learned how to frown from the same place. Only Penelope and Rossi seem encouraging. Penelope tipsy herself, and Rossi a self-professed believer in, "Living life to the fullest. Get the girl another drink, Reid." 

"A spritzer," Spencer says again. 

You smile gleefully and follow him out of your seats toward the bar. The barkeep gives Spencer a knowing look when he orders your drink but doesn't say anything when Spencer puts the change in the tip jar, which is questionable. Spencer secures your cold beverage and hands it to you, fully intending on walking you back to the booth. 

You pull him off course. He has little power in the situation, a yelp and a yank and you're dragging him toward the bar jukebox. Your spritzer paints your hand as you put it down, lips wet with it as you beam at him from over your shoulder. 

"Pick a song?" you ask. 

"I don't know if they'll have anything I like." 

"Pick one anyways." 

Spencer has to stand directly behind you to read the titles. "Why don't you pick one?" he asks gently. 

You sway. He doesn't know if it's down to the alcohol or the five seconds of music that plays as you scroll through songs. "I don't have a dollar."

Spencer laughs and gets his wallet out, handing you two dollars from the fold. "There. Pick two." 

"You're such a nice guy, Spencer, and I don't mean it like, oh, you're a nice guy, you don't mess girls around, I mean…" You fold the dollars he gave you mindlessly. "I mean, you're just nice. In the best sense of the word. You're gentle, kind…" 

You gasp, sounding pained. Spencer's hand leaps to the small of your back, "What? What's wrong?" 

"They have Out of Touch by Hall and Oates. Hold my spritzer, handsome, I need to put this on before I die." 

Derek comes looking for you both somewhere in the second play of the same song. Spencer's cheeks are bright pink, people staring in confusion at the repeat and the pretty drunk woman speaking the words. Spencer tries to flag Derek for saving, but when Derek sees the way you've wrapped your arms around Spencer's bicep, he chuckles and waves goodbye. 

You look up to Spencer eagerly. You're close enough to kiss him. "You know how to play nine ball?" 

"In theory," he says weakly. 

"Good! If I win you can buy me another spritzer, and if you win, I'll let you take me home." 

Spencer was always going to be taking you home tonight, but for a distinctly different reason. "If you win," he says, licking his lips, "I'll give you another dollar for the jukebox." 

"And if you win?" you ask.

"I'll take you home," he says slowly. "But only to take you home." 

"That's cute." 

No matter what drunken delusion you're under, Spencer does end up taking you home after a third round of Hall and Oates. You're not so drunk as to need help standing, and you manage to get to bed without help. He just wants to make sure you lock the door. 

You kiss him on the cheek, your hand behind his neck like you might turn his lips to yours. Spencer turns his face away. 

"I'm not gonna try anything, Spence," you say, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. "Just wanted to say thanks. You'll stay, right? Don't get the train." 

Spencer sleeps on your couch. In the morning he wakes to the smell of eggs fried in sesame oil and the heavy scent of hot chocolate. Oh, and you in your tiny pyjama shorts at the helm, completely untouched by the copious booze intake of the night before. "Loverboy," you sing-song. "Come on! I'm gonna sit in your lap and feed you like a Grecian emperor. It'll be fun." 

It'll definitely be something. 

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Cum Play, Reader is Slightly Intoxicated, Revenge Sex, Mean Miguel, No Aftercare

A/N: Written for a request. Thank you, love!

Unedited

The moment he sees you he knows it’s you.

Sure, you’re not as slim as you were before and not as loud and obnoxious, but you still as fucking stunning as you were back in high school. Something about that gets him pissed, scowling every time he spots you at Alchemax’s front desk or in the halls with papers or coffee. It doesn’t help that you’re actively avoiding him, sharply turning when you spot him and scurrying away.

Like you’re still too good for him.

He’s always imagined that he would get his revenge on you by embarrassing you in front of a large crowd of people or getting you fired from your pathetic job when he was younger. But he never would have imagined he could get it another way. Not until he’s going to the break room and he hears your little chatter with your work friends, a little bashful confession on how attractive you think Miguel is tumbling from your soft lips.

So after a work party, when you’re a little too tipsy and in need of a ride home, Miguel can’t refuse taking you back to your place and getting his revenge.

Miguel groans as he watches you, large hands gripping your waist as he bullies his cock into you. You let out the prettiest mewls and whimpers, sounds his high school self could never imagine you making because of him. Your hands claw at his chest, burning marks dragging across his skin and making his dick twitch. His eyes don’t know where to look, stuck between the stupid look on your fucked out face, your bouncing tits that are begging to be sucked on, or your gaping cunt that takes him in so greedily. He settles for studying your face, a mean smile on his face as his large palm slaps against your tits and making you whine.

He coos softly at you, disguising the cruel words he says. Calling you a stupid slut and a pathetic whore in the tones of a lullaby that has your head reeling and your cunt fluttering. Miguel grunts as your walls clamp around him, the tacky sound of your wetness increasing in volume as you gush around his cock. If he was a meaner person, he would record you riding his dick so prettily and post it to all of your socials, but Miguel finds a bit more satisfaction knowing you’ll have to live with the silent knowledge you let that nerdy loser from high school fuck you so good that you’re left daydreaming about him and his cock.

You moan out his name, and Miguel grits his teeth together as his cock jumps at how pretty it sounds falling from your pretty lips. Miguel growls as his thumb falls to your tiny clit, pinching meanly at it as you gasp and squirm in his lap. He chuckles as your body locks, a pretty cry floating out of you as he fucks you through a body shaking orgasm. You twitch in his hands, eyes rolled back as he chases his own high with punishing thrusts that are sure to bruise your cervix. He makes sure to press right against its opening as hot spurts of his seed shoot into you, a frothy ring of white forming around his cock as a combination of your cum drip from your stuffed cunt.

You’re on the verge of passing out when he leaves, pulling out of you and dumping you on your bed. A sticky mess of his cum is still splatter against your thighs, sheets crumbled and your thighs already starting to ache. You don’t even have energy to fight him when he dips his fingers into you, using the thick load to spell his name on your pulsing clit before he gets dressed and leaves you alone in your apartment.

Was this a punishment or a prize?

[princessbellecerise]

cw: smut, mistaken identity, dragonseed!reader

oh nothing just thinking about jace finally deciding that honor be damned, there’s a war going on and he does not want to die a virgin. he has a plan to fix it but he’s so nervous that he drinks a few glasses of wine to calm his nerves. then, he sneaks into baela’s room and shuts the door, smiling when he sees what he thinks are her silver curls peaking out from underneath her sheets. as quietly as he can, jace gets undressed and climbs on the bed. it creaks a little under his weight, but baela doesn’t stir, surprising him since she’s usually a light sleeper. he thinks nothing of it though, because he’s so nervous and so excited and he’s a littleee bit tipsy from the wine so he doesn’t notice that baela’s skin is softer than what it should be. furthermore, her body isn’t as hard as a warriors body should be and she even smells different to jace. it’s an intoxicating scent that makes all the nerves in his body feel like he’s on fire. it spurs him on even more, the prince pushing the covers back to reveal baela’s barely clothed body. to his surprise, the princess is wearing a cute little slip decorated in flowers. its silky and underneath it, jace realizes that she’s wearing nothing. her pretty little cunt is on full display when he pushes the slip up to her breasts, mouth watering as her full body is exposed. in no time, the prince attaches his mouth to any skin he can find, growing harder by the minute as he tastes baela’s sweet flesh. as his lips trail over her neck, her breasts, and eventually the sweet spots on her belly, he can hear her whimpering and whining above him.

“jacaerys? what are you doing?”

her voice is a little different from what she usually sounds like, but the prince chalks it up to baela just coming out of sleep and to the wine.

“shh, sweetling. just relax. i’m going to take good care of you,” he whispers to her, before attaching his lips to her cunt.

almost immediately, baela begins to squirm underneath him, heavy pants and little cries leaving her lips. her hands come down to tangle in his hair as jace gets to work, finding her pearl and coaxing to her peak.

he’s doing so good, he thinks, and she tastes so sweet. jace wants to spend hours in between her legs if possible but he’s so hard that it hurts. the prince finds himself needing to be inside of her before he bursts.

hurriedly, he climbs on top of her and presses his swollen head to her folds. baela leans up, her sweet plump lips capturing him in a kiss just before he pushes in, groaning into her mouth as he sinks.

she feels wonderful jace thinks, so tight and warm that he wonders why in the hell he hasn’t done this before. there’s no feeling that has ever made him tremble the way he does now, buried deep in baela’s cunt. pleasure bleeds into his very soul, and he feels so euphoric that he needs to do something, anything to keep from losing his mind. he holds her, kisses her, sucks harshly on her breasts. does everything that lets him feel her, letting her sweet taste consume him to the point of oblivion.

and she lets him. gods be good, she holds onto him for dear life as his cock pounds into her, letting out the sweetest of sounds that he cherishes. he’s so full of love at the moment that jace can’t help that it tumbles from his lips. he whispers in her ear about how perfect she is for him, and how sweet and warm her cunny is. he tells baela that he couldn’t wait to marry her from the moment he saw her and that she’ll make the best wife to him. as he fucks into her, lewd sounds echoing through her room, jace feels her legs wrap around his back. he feels her pull him close and keep him there, hugging his body until there’s no space left between them.

it’s then that he asks, desperate as he fills an avalanche growing in his stomach, “will you take me? will you take my seed, my love?” when she nods, her own legs trembling and her cries blending with his, it’s then that jace pours everything that he has into her. everything that he is. sweet nothing after sweet nothing just seems to come out, as there’s no short amount of praises he gives as he snaps.

he’s on cloud nine, and it’s so overwhelming that jace cums harder than he ever has in his life. hot spurts of his seed flow from his cock and into baela, his balls firmly pressed against her ass to keep it there.

by the gods, he groans, “i wish to see you swollen with my children,” at least serval times. and he knows, jace knows that her sweet soft body will be the perfect place to grow his heirs.

in the morning, he’ll ask his mother for permission to marry her like he should’ve from the beginning. heaven knows that he’s too addicted to her now, too in love and cunt drunk to part. he’s can’t risk dying in this war without calling her his wife. can’t risk not being able to make love to her freely until their end. it’ll kill him inside, he thinks.

he holds onto her even as his cock softens. she winces a little as he pulls out, but he kisses her wet cheeks and is pleased to see that nothing spills from her cunt. it’s as if the mother herself has blessed her womb, blessed their union and allowed for not a single drop to spill. soon, her belly will swell with children that are perfect mix of their beautiful mother and their father. another reason for jace to fight, he thinks. another reason that they must win.

“for you. for our child. i will fight with everything i have in me, i promise,” he tells her.

baela simply weeps into his arms, overwhelmed by their union as well and sniffles out her own promises.

“i will be a good wife. i swear it to you,” she tells him, and it’s these sweet words that lull him off to sleep. he can’t stay there forever, they both know it, but jacaerys manages to sleep with her and hold her a little while longer before he’s forced to get up and leave her.

the next morning, he can’t stop smiling despite being forced to train all of the new dragonseed’s early. baela isn’t up yet but the thought of seeing her afterwards is what motivates him, though jace is a little confused as to why the only female dragonseed is now following him around. she’s giggling and acting all lovesick towards him, but even though she is beautiful and a sweet girl, his heart belongs to another after last night. but baela is nowhere to be seen. and in fact, rhaenyra tells jace later on that she’s not even in the castle, having flown to driftmark to retrieve lord corlys. in the meantime though, she decided to give you her room until jace’s betrothed comes back. after all, out of all of the dragonseeds, you are the only noble that answered the call. and it would be rude to let you sleep amongst the others, would it not?

[rjhpandapaws]

One of my cats just came into my room, sniffed everything and then left

[ecstarry]

the one where james has to bath a tipsy regulus prompt by @star4daisy

“Please stay still.” James laughed at his very tipsy lover.

Regulus had his eyes closed and swayed slowly from side to side. James attempted to steady him by holding his arms. “Love, I’m going to undress you and then get you in the shower, is that okay?”

A sweet and quiet "mhm" left Regulus' lips. He fumbled with his shirt buttons, but after a minute of struggling to undo the first one, James intervened.

“You are so smart and good with buttons,” Regulus declared. “Too good, actually. Have you done this many times?

“What, unbutton your shirt?” James gladly responded to Regulus' drunken questioning.

"Yessss," Regulus drawled, his words elongated in that unmistakable tipsy way he'd always denied once sober. James finished unbuttoning the shirt, gently sliding it off one arm at a time. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Regulus' chest, then started unzipping his pants.

"Wow, Potter. You should buy me dinner first," Regulus quipped, laughing at his own joke.

"I have done exactly that, and apparently, more than enough wine too," James replied with a chuckle.

Once Regulus was undressed, James gently guided him into the bathtub, the water set to the exact temperature he knew Regulus liked. Taking care of Regulus came naturally to him. Every new detail that Regulus shared, James attentively listened, making sure he will always love him correctly. 

Carefully, James began washing Regulus' hair, his movements tender and delicate. He softened as he watched Regulus relax under his touch.

"You're good at this too, Jamie," Regulus murmured.

"Thank you, love," James replied, rinsing his hands and delicately wiping away the shampoo threatening to drip into Regulus' eyes. Regulus purred contentedly at the gesture.

Then, he took Regulus' favorite shower gel and began scrubbing him softly. As he worked, James pressed soft kisses all over Regulus' body, unfazed by the taste of soap on his lips. There were moments when Regulus would chuckle and tell him that his kisses tickled, prompting James to kiss him even more until the chuckles turned into full laughter, filling their bathroom.

As James turned to reach for the towel, Regulus grabbed his shirt and pulled him back.

“Baby, wha—” James started, but it was too late. He tumbled into the bathtub, fully clothed. Regulus burst into laughter and playfully splashed water to ensure James was completely soaked. James stared at him, taking in the sight of the dark, wet curls, the droplets of water on Regulus' face, the curve of his mouth, the veins in his neck, and the pink of his lips. He allowed himself to savor every detail of the moment.

Regulus' cheeks flushed under James' lustful gaze. James extended his arm and gently touched Regulus' lips, tracing them with his index finger before slowly moving his hand to hold his chin. Regulus melted under his touch, leaning into James' palm with a contented sigh.

“You’re a bit wet,” Regulus pointed out, chuckling to himself at the understatement.

James laughed with him and leaned in closer to whisper, “Now it’s time for you to shampoo my hair.” 

Regulus pouted. “But I’m drunk.”

“You should’ve thought about that before pulling me to the bath with you, love.” James’ voice was tender. 

“Okay, I’ll try my best.” He promised.

Regulus got closer and began undressing him. James was delighted to be touched by Regulus—he always was. His boyfriend was attentive in his own way. He didn’t quite catch the shampoo before it got into his eyes, but he was gentle when untangling James' hair.

After his drunken attempt to shower James, they stayed there, their laughter prompted simply by silly looks.

“You look quite good naked, has anyone told you that before?” Regulus teased. 

“Okay, love, time for bed,” James announced as he stood up. He grabbed a towel for Regulus and wrapped him. He looked like an angel, a precious being that James had the honor of taking care of. 

James dried himself up and pulled the human burrito close to him, his arms wrapped around him. 

“Thank you, Jamie.” Regulus whispered into his chest. 

“It was my pleasure, love.” He meant it. He always did.

[astralnymphh]

stuff you up ౨ৎ

aestras thanksgiving smut special

' so who's getting stuffed, you or the turkey? '

HELP PALESTINE . DO NOT BUY TLOU2

♡. summary; fuck the festivities, who actually cares about all that sappy shit. instead, embark a newly founded festivity– fucking your girlfriend up in the dusty memory of your old bedroom~ ♡. a\n; late af as fuck but just a fun little smut, nothing too serious, a bit rushed but here y'all go ♡. CW; groping under the table, fingering (r), clit stim (r), strapping (r), horndog!ellie, dom!ellie, tipsy!ellie, risky sex (joel almost catches u), cock referred as 'her' + referred as ellies, cocktip teasing, ass grabbing, some ass smacking, some plot, jokey bickering, readers a bit bratty, a slight brat-taming moment if you squint, mouth muffling, squirting, petnames; babe, baby, babygirl, princess, good girl, (lmk if i missed anything)

♡ WC; 5.5k ♡ masterlist ♡ thanks 2 @fleshunger 4 proofreading the intro ♡

Paired minds savor the embellishing glow of lit stick candles settled before them in a ritzy manner– shedding light over plates of arraying colors. Marination that glistens, crispness that scrapes, and mushy mesas' of garlic herb potatoes that delicately slump in the cradle of a spoon. Consume with your eyes first, then your cameras– and conclusively, your rumbling tummy. 

Rather to consume what's meant to be, than to gorb the scruffy haired girl next to you– at least for now, yes? 

It's your first Thanksgiving with Ellie, being that you two only linked heartstrings this year.

You, the possibly innocent angel that you are– right now, serve clement smiles to whomever talks to you, be it Joel or some random relative who’s name only just surfed your ears this night, it doesn't matter. De rigueur, wear it well.

A baser mind– I mimic regret while telling you this– tumbles far from the garden of Eden and slips away into a daunting realm, the underworld. By under, I mean downstairs, below the button, the internals. Ellie straight up, served hot, was just bursting with hormones. The tender meat oozing with buttery slick melt fell short in maintaining the contact of those chartreuse eyes, instead, suffering the envy of them rooted to your thighs beneath the oak. 

Noses immerse themselves in salty goodness, eyes feast before gobs could, rolling molars gnaw turkey off the tines of forks, but her, her cunts' the only organ thinking right now.

Especially while seated adjacent to you, her clit was throbbing past the hard material of her jeans.

"You both settlin' in your new apartment?" Joel's bellowed drawl carries over the other muted chatter, low in the background.

"Mhm," your hum slopes and rises behind lips sealed to a glass rim, then part with a smack, "Ellie’s definitely settled more than me." ending with a giggle.

Her ear pivots from you, dirt–dappled nose at the fore, "Oh? What's that 'spose to mean babe?"

"Can't keep your hands off that shiny new Playstation, hmm?" 

"Tchh– you bought it for me." replied her with a skosh of sass.

"That I did."

"Uh–" Joel bumbles.

Els drones out, "Andd all my video games–"

"Where's my thank you?" you pout in frolick, forwarding your face for her view.

Hmph.

Her miffy eyes bounce around her skull hence to piloting back on yours, her own pout puffing, "Okayy, here," she sighs lowly, nosing her lips down to pucker a peck– smacking together.

A shared hum in approval vibrates between the bond of skin, half–approval, a kiss was meager in your book of play, and you felt particularly playful this eve.

With a finished kiss, leaves your mouth to mouth a sneaky little quip, fruitful in a whisper, "Didn't hear a thank you~"

"Hmm?"

"Els.." 

Faces still bathing in transferring warmth, her breath hitches on your mid–face, a sigh to end all worries, "You'll see, just wait." Her voice cracks a bit, silken on your ears.

Waiting wasn't even on the table. 

Not when a brawny hand suddenly gropes your inner–thigh, squeezing the fat in little wags.

Give thanks to whomever, thank fuck for being at the tables edge, where nobody else could witness this.

"Anywho–" Ellie grogs her throat clear of those debaucheries, returning to her normal seated poise, "yeah, like, we're settled– thanks for helpin' us find that place." her pitch heightens, flowing into a nosy chuckle.

"Course, kiddo." softly spoken off Joel’s sentiments, but minding less attention and returning his mouth to something more, toothsome. Foodsome.

Goddess, her grip is mighty.

Devious fingers– they found their way, quick. Fingers such as hers, waxy and pale, rigid and calloused, stamping up your hip and giving firm pressure to the bone. Knuckles flushed of pigment, they dig around the crest wanton, nudging you slightly.

"Seriously?" you spit through grit teeth, wiggling your hips in reaction.

Ellie harks your mutter, tugging those smug corners into a cocky smile as her nervy nature would plant her in, naughty–toothed smile, "Huuh?" that bastard coos, "what's wrong babe?"

"You dickhead." 

"Me, dickhead?"

"Yes, you, dickhead."

"That's a lot of dicks n' heads, what is it with you and dicks n' heads?" she creeps her face closer, squinting dumbly– which only made her onslaught of 'heads and dicks' more peeving now that you really loured at her.

Grimacing at her dense brows queller than a storm, blushy nostrils taunting in a wiggle, it subtly made sense– impish coquetry. The kind of shit you toss like a game of ball, prior to the main event. An event, to be seen.

"Why you givin' me that look, huh?" she squints lower in return, flaring her nose, "Do I have a dick for a head?" 

"I would not kiss you if that were the case," you claim advantage of her closeness and peck her goofish scowl, forcing a crescent to spry on that mouth, "Dork."

Hooks on your hip palpate harsher on the jut, her thumb swiping where the cushion and your butt cleft. Pressure given, when words pique her interest.

"Babe," Els murmured with fry in her chords, "d'ya want it?"

"It?" you gulp.

"Mhm.." thrummed she, eluding, "c'mon, you know.." said with that chilling husk, whew.

Okay, maybe it's clearer–than–a–midsummers–noon clear, that Ellie was a tad tipsy. Pink worm of hers just couldn't resist the samplage of some bourbon, sweet oakey notes that evoke memories of bourbon skies hence, quite the beautifying thought. Skies where you play a shrouded silhouette to her line of sight, tapping thumb to chin in ponder. Ponder, pondering.. for what were you pondering those sunsets?

Yet now you lacked a ponder on whatever the hell she was hinting to, only for it to ferment suddenly.

"Ellie, what are you on–"

"My fingers," a blurt wets her whistle, cocking her head dear to your poor ear, "do you want.. my fingers– in.." you feel her dual digits dive in the crevice of your thigh and groin, curling snugly.

"Ellie.." you hiss, pinching your brows in honest bewilderment.

Her pinkie roves over the bulge of your crotch and punctures the inseam right above your clit, stinging the little bud– which throbbed at her press.

"Do you?" her breath wanes, speech sedated with the aim of persuading you.

Contemplation was considered– maybe too carefully, maybe not. Problem one, legitimately most if not all of your family was within spitting distance of you, but on the other hand, the gutsy hand, weighed her offer slacker than a greedy businessman. In precis, her puppy eyes of coveted sanction, rears triumph. Dickhead.

A caught gulp squeezes down your gullet, puffing your chest out, "Mhm.." 

"Okay.. mhh–" she giggles with husk, creasing up as her lithe fingers trace and wrest your fly open, skulking her hand beneath the hood, "Just focus on dinner baby, I got this.." wisped soft, kindred to cashmere.

The unyielding stretch of your denim fastens around your hips in the act of her palm ramming inside, yanking you forward. Pursing your lips in elated exhales, you try, try to winch meat to mouth and void the tamping of your clit, try as you might– the pleasure is dire.

Ellie’s prints depress a lewd discovery, the stub of her smaller knuckle thickens itself in leaky panty, secreting from your eager hole. A discovery, worth a hushed gasp, "Ooh? Wet already babe? God damn.."

"Shut.. up.." choked you, only reaping a laugh from her.

"Fuck, I do all this?"

"Duh."

"Hehe– fuck that's hot.."

She withdraws her fingers half–way, to slither them under your panties. And without a foraged bit of foreplay, dilates your labia with her furled digits loading inside of you.

A squishy nub brushes your sweet spot.

Your pipes in turn swell with sharp intake, wall of your throat cooling instantly. Fuck, bona fide fuck. Enormously fucked when her pumps wreak gentle squelches from your dewy core.

"Jesus, mhphh.." a gruff of air susurrus from her, starkening her torso in an 'appeasingly normal' angle so she may, blend in, bemusing your mother with small–talk, "So, d'you always have a gathering this big on Thanksgiving?"

Out of all people, really, Els? 

She indulges with a smile, purely answering, "Oh yeah, every year– whole family, too many relative I suppose." fading erratically into a giggle.

"Heh– ‘least you got a big house, shitt– I mean," In spite of sounding casual, slips into a grit curse when your wet walls clench her in, "–dang, what I wouldn't give to live here, right babe?"

A mere butt of her elbow nearly dips you into the waters of appearing– deviant of natural, those slender digits, twisting a tender knot inside. She pumps at a canter, lesser than brisk, swifter than a slug. Beat, beat, beat to your g–spot, akin to the pitter, pitter, pat of your whizzing heart.

"Y–yeah, soo jealous, even though I did as a kid.." laughing it off awkwardly, a bask of 'Please let that be the only time I talk.' relief uplifts your sunk gut, momentarily.

"You still eating well livin' on your own?" your mother queries, tuning that time–old maternal charm.

"I mean, d–decent, enough–"

Ellie thrusts her fingers faster, fashioning a trickle of ooze to froth out onto your underwear. Pacified by the sensations, you clamp tighter, knocking a winded hitch to your staggering speech. Fucking inconvenient. Olives of her eyes binge a glint so bawdy, yet inlaid in a bad case of puppy–face, bullshit purity on her glossy lips. She knew the consequences, and consumed them like nothing.

"Pshh– decent? Babe, please, I'm like the microwave master!" exclaimed she, feigning a biggety tone atop her rasp.

You scoff, "Ah–" shuffling your thighs in light see–saw motions, "again, decent."

The knot squeezes as she finger–fucks the tranquility of mind from your pussy, staring knives at you when her supple thumb drags your clit in flicks.

"Sure it's not good?"

"Mh–mh.."

"Like, really good?"

No way she was referring to the microwave meals anymore.

Your mother intrudes softly, "Honey I can start bringin' you my homemade food if it's not–"

"It's okay, she's just playin' around–" Ellie replies before a vowel can flutter your lips, proceeding to eye–fuck you with a smug visage, "she loves my cooking." she rasped, eyes slimly showing.

All you can spotlight on is her gropey hands, jerking you like some toy, it felt too fucking good. Too pleasant to snuff, too divine to scold, exhilarating to your veins sore with salaciousness. Then, you route back to a ponder, what more could she stipulate? 

"M' gonna go to the bathroom," you swat her hand out and jostle your fly up, netting a coo of amusement from Ellie– secretly.

"You good babe?" she vocalizes after, keeping her pussy–prune digits free of smear.

"Come with me." purred you, hoisting from the oaken chair.

Ellie's lids arise with tangible hots– an aphrodisia densely potent of kindiling her eyes. No anointing of sanctity will ripen her intentions, nor anchor the even throb of her cunt. For a throb is a hymn, to you. She wants you, and she's going to have you. Moments and minutes hence, falter to compare in energy.

Cue her cheek pleating smile.

"Okay–" a light snort prances off her open lips, whirling her lap aside to skim through the tight wedge and stumbling to you, "which bathroom we doin'–"

"Just follow me," your voice aspires over, cusping your hand and snagging her calloused ones in the curve of it, "gonna' show you somethin'."

"Heh–" she chuckles dryly, tailgating with a gentle pull of your forearm.

You two whip around a door nook, glide through the foyer and advance upon a staircase. Your cotton–clad heels stroke wood planks beat by beat, soft wallops that carom off skyscraping maroon wine walls. Ribbons of lunar light dangle on and off your heads, crafting gauzy shrouds that mix and mingle off the corners with a bobbing ascent. Every wall laid reminiscent of a ritzy manor, a lacquer of lavish. 

The flight of stairs then ingress into a much thinner hall, in a much quainter space, and fitted to each doors awaiting enigma. Duller light spills through, glossing the path you took towards a fawny brown door– your bedroom.

Ellie espies the cleave of an abutting door, aiming a bead on with her index, "Wait– isn't that the–"

"Shh," you gingerly rustle air on locked teeth, shifting your arm towards the gilded rotund knob and twining with metal clicks and clacks, "bathroom was just a cover up."

"Oh~" 

"Hmm hm~" you kittenly croon.

The barrier pendulates sideward from your stride, only to be elbowed soundly back to a wisping shut.  You pinch the little knob's notch and, click, lock the door. An amused flit of breath pours from her agape lips, catching your wordless gist bereft of another second.

Ellie thrums that same old rasp, sweetening you up, "Real smooth babe, takin' us up here.." her feet coast her closer to you, kitty–cornering you to a rearwards stumble.

Plaster bumps, a welting sharp ridge– they trench in your ankle and up as your calves butt the wall, inevitably backed up. Trapped, positively trapped. 

"Well–" a scoff enlightens your latter words, "couldn't just stay there with you two fingers deep, hm?" and your 'hm' asks for her agreement, pitch yawing.

"Was 'gonna make it three, but.." 

"But?"

Her head shrouds yours in a gray penumbra, orangey–tint nose a scant whisker from brushing yours, and sends you into a conundrum with a mere utter, a tepid utter, "got uhh', something better for you." tying off with a willed lip bite.

"Oh really?" you moon with pep, hooking a calf around hers.

She smokily coaxes, "Fuck yeah– look." her knotty digits then cruise around her hips, meeting at her denim zipper and tugging that metal tab down. Fleeting as starlight, she thumbs the belt–band and chucks her jeans just beneath the ruck of her asscheek, chafing fabric to fabric with her lax boxers.

A lone brow quirks, expressing the fact that with the way she juts hers hips forward and palms her crotch weirdly– it reared too obvious, "Ellie, don't tell me–"

A springy mass wiggles against the front inseam, held in her teasy tauty grip– veins popping of course, "Tell youu whaat?" her words muff in hoarse laughter.

"Baby.." you exhale, adjoining a whiny moan. Ellie's such a goofy tease.

That simple mass in her crotch, was a sign– a clear, lucid, taintless and foretelling, that you were getting stuffed like a turkey tonight.

In counter, her exhale fuses with yours in dancing particles, so gentle, finer than purity made flesh, "Babe.." and such gentleness caresses your ears, a pureness forgotten in those divinity forsaken puppy eyes– pout moist.

You can't rend your pupils elsewhere, trapped like mice, you gape with encroaching arousal dowsing out your nerves– and drenching down below. Markedly, where you gaze now– her fingers tug the waistband down, exposing the bulbous green head of her cock in her boxers tight band, barely, literal orb of luster dabbled on the tip.

Now your eyes truly cannot escape.

Cotton tenderizes in lines around the bulge, her hand stroking above the shape. And the way you stare, fucks her mind good, speaking throatily, "God," a gulp bubbles, "can't stop starin' hmm?"

"Hehe– couldn't help but wear it?" you snap back.

"Yes ma'am," said off a grunt, pushing said bulge to your curious hand, pleading for a rub, "you gonna' suck her?" soothing is her tone, a breathless moan.

You coo, "Want me to?" and weasel your palm in circles, watching her pelvis follow.

"Uh'huh babe– mhh, need it.." she rolls the hem of her shirt up to her ribs, flaunting that strapping waist– perfectly toned.

Appetent with sure appetite, you nod, a nod that tows her lids down, down.. down, till the green born of her eyes rely on a thin horizon hawkeyeing you. A sliver of sparkle, eager in you. It only takes you dual bends of the knees, stamping chiffony flesh to cold oak and your fingers tucking in her underwear– to excite Ellie.

"Yeah, m'gonna suck her, suck that cock." you mouth in broken vowels, steeping breath on her firm navel pouch.

"Fuck.." she nimbly grunts and tosses her head back, tightening skin on the jounce of her adams apple, swallowing.

Giving tender pressure on her boxers, you slither them netherward until they sojourn atop her bunching jeans fixed above the knee. You swear, those quads of hers clench at your brushing touch, causing your sights to skip up on that dangling cock. Wow. The fat head pokes your nose–tip, curbing up as she cradles its silicone girth to palm.

"Hold uh'," what you expected to be 'up' erupts as a tiny grunt snuffing, eyeing her other hand concealing her lips with a muffled 'puh' to top, "there we go." that hand draws down to smear her spit along the length, squelching mildly.

"Mhh–" you hum shorn of audible sound, batting keen breath on her strap, "–so big.."

You tell her that, everytime. And everytime, she revels in that negligible fact, shutting her eyes in skin–sheathed darkness– pinpointing on how too–too hot that seems. And the way you say it? Oof.

Ellie tacks five fingerprints on your head's crown and coaxes in flits of force, easing you on, "My god, babygirl– oooh.." she relishes an oval–mouthed moan, watching your lips wrap her cockhead.

And it's warmer than anything you've gobbled so far this eve.

Balming a heat like that, tucked in her boxers so neatly and snug– it tickles your gums. Soft and pliant, your lips are, they crease and roll under as you swallow her in, impressing a pit on your tongue when they meet.

"Hhmmm.." you moan a mouthful on the frothed up silicone, dragging your lips back over to motion a bounce of your head.

"I know~" she coos to your bumble, pucking her hips with an equal piston to her pelvis, "them' lips feel goood– fuuckkk.." as if you can feel them, dork.

You clasp her thickness in hooks of your tongue, sending splotches and globs of spit to pool around your oval–ringed mouth, courtesy of her tip bumping your throat in, "Guh- guh, guh, guhh–" prods. 

Ohh, that birdsong. The quaffing of your vocal bands subject to her humps, producing a rhythmic beat to alight her hormones. Your song worthy of hearing. You wimp the swelling sink that her nails wreak, a flicker between cuspate tapering and a meek love– a calling for more.

Enlighten me a morsel of those twisted, dirty thoughts, auburnhead devil.

Leathery wads of her free digits roam hot on your pulping cheeks, chiseling out as you suck. Her fingers then find themselves arcing a tuck behind your ear, thumb printed to your temple. A dash of encourage, she presses, a truer than blue visage, she contorts ran by pleasure. Squelch, suckle, drag spit, and repeat.

Due to your stretching spread of lips taking her well, likeness of a blockade in your mouth, you couldn't speak. Obviously. So over the wish–wash of saliva, Ellie tunes you in with her filthy comments.

"Suckin' my filthy cock.. fuck–" she pauses with a gruff moan, baking in your brain deep, "gonna' make me cum so goood–" her vowel strains, clenching her pussy lips around nothing except the cool, cruel air, "yes.." 

A reed of cold nips your chin, seconds hence realization settles; you're getting sloppy. A manifestation of Els actually fucking your noggin to slosh, wouldn't spark surprise if liquid poured from your cranium at this point.

Her own arousal rots you further down, too.

With the feeling of her cock climbing near hellward down your throat, smacking on the gummy walls, and the husk her moans endure, crucifies your pussy with an ache of want. Fabric of your jeans suffers a beat, your clit, throbbing. It hurts so good and it stings so right, so tight, you need her now.

A faster bob you give, the more Ellie can't take it either. 

"Babe–" she hawks out, but fails to halt your bopping movements, "babe, fuck–" the digits parked behind the conch of your ear skip and push your jaw up, staking her cock out with a spring. 

"Ghh– schhlp, huh?" a chuck of spit muddled your words, unfurled tongue lapping up every web left by your messy, messy mouth.

Nook of her hand like a cusp to your jaw, she beckons you with a nudge, and rasps, "Up– c'mon, n'turn that ass around." 

Ass. Something about that word reverberated in you, bothered you hotly, made a tepidness leak from your cheeks. The rasp she rung it with, eyeing you with twin fern flames for irises– an approaching engulfment to marry your skin with ashen blessing, more consuming. Ass, Ash, haha.

A flutter in your hips spreads like fire across your legs. It weakens the muscle you bend, standing upright challenged resemblant of a feat, especially when Ellie's grabby gropes found purchase in the crevice of your hips, spindling you on a quick axis. It wanes the composure you hold like a goblet, dwindling to shattered shards across the floor, primarily as those bedeviled claws slot under rough woven denim and remove them false of trouble and trick– ruching to nothing at the root of your ankles.

Where happy hubbub clamors downstairs, pleased pandemonium moans upstairs.

A jut of two knobby hip bones thump into each asscheek, denting the skin into a gully. Warmth, a ligature of it rides through your backside, making you shake. Not like her hands would let you tremble, one being so immovably returned to your hip.

"Fuuck that pussy 'been waitin' for me, huh? Can just tell.." mumbles her with vocal fry, pupils ogling bare of shame at your cinched folds, clasping nothing.

"Your fault."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm.." you hum timidly.

"Gonna call me dickhead again, or–" a fat ball teases the dripping lips of your pussy, spreading them slightly and sloshing the skin around, "Is this enough?"

To give way, was a mistake, buckling your pelvis deeper on her cock which faces a grip ardent to shaft– teasing with rolls of her wrist. The cockhead, or literal dickhead, warps and smooshes against your clit as she toys with it. A whiny, "Huuh– Els.." mangles in your larynx, pitching.

"Yeah, you like that? Know you do." that damned smirk lives in her curving tone, sweet with a dash of tang. Her cock dilates your delicate folds further, exposing the velvet flesh to cold air and an intrusive visit. 

Your fiendish pussy kisses her cocktip and ceases its movement, clamping her in place, whimpering, "Mhh, ahh– ah.." 

"Hey, 'lemme go– was just getting started babe," she laughs crisply, landing a fine plume touch to your ass, "c'mon.. loosen up.."

A flux of slacken tires the muscles that clamp her in, hugging your entrance more softly around her tip.

Ellie winches weight on her knees, crouching her groin into you with a slow swerve, "There we go.." she purrs with tension in her tune, relieving a sigh when her cock pops in silkenly.

You seize up, gasping sharply, hips begging to break brittle in her grasp of iron– but iron does not deform easily. Pressure stays pressured, and digits knurl over the hill of your hip bone to prop it upright. With walls expanded on her cock like your pussy was made for her, it humbles you, belittling you to sludge in her metal caress.

"Fuuckk yeah–" she broadens her sigh of bliss, abrading on the 'K', like a crackle. Pleasure kills neutrality in the smoothest way, gathering grooves in her forehead, "y'feel so warm baby.. mhmm–" 

"That's not even your dick.." you half–way give a giggle, suppressing the moans you choke up.

A tense whistle of air sounds from Ellie's nose, a reaction of vague irritation, "Swear to god.." her tongue smacks after and a sudden thrusting of her fat cock catches your mind astray, winding those choked moans out. 

"Uhn– uh fuck, huhh–" you babble.

"Not my dick huh? Who's fucking you? Tell me, fuck– yeah?" Her words warble where skin smacks, wetness palping in obscene squelches. 

Does she really expect you to answer when her cock continually swells your cunt and abuses your g–spot? Yeah. Ellie will fuck the answer from one hole to the other, if she so feels compelled to.

But of course, you don't answer.

"Baaabeee," she taunts, "baabyyyy," and tortures, "who she getting fucked by right now, tell mee.." and fucks, cooing purer than vernal spring washed in the rain, mushing globs of pre–cum all over your cervix.

"Y-you.."

"That's right."

This feels almost violating to your vagina, to be stuffed like this. Did she size up? Get a new strap? Whatever the case presents itself as, it felt fucking good. Made you woozy, each bop she played like a drum on your sore ass, summoning a white ring of creamy sap to veil around her cock's girth. White droplets failed to envelop her cock, though, each jiggle of your muck bodies lashing beads of it onto the oak boards, your thighs, her pretty auburn bush, etcetera. Attempting to grab the wall, duh– that fails, then you scramble jittery digits across said wall, awkwardly finding a rigid door trim to grasp at long last– speak of the devil, Ellie laughs at that.

"Haha– aww, too big for you princess?" she utters to you like a dumbass, ego brimmed with the pumps her cock skids on your gummy walls, smirking with thinned lips.

Vulnerability loathes humility, "Fuck y–you."

"Sure."

Her perception of sight, harboring verdancy, drops low to your bulging hole that swallows her good– as you should, tender milk that pools inwards as she slides out, and froths a flood of slick when she humps it back to the same hole it spilled from. 

Might she indulge more sampling?

Ellie's hell–sworn index traces your swelling folds mellowly, togging a cap of pearly cum on her finger pad. Scrutinize, then she licks. Her peach lips kiss her finger softly, puckering wrinkles as she sucks the sleek off, "Sssmhpt–" her lips zip, "yeah–ha, that's what 'm taking about–" delighted, she is.

The knot in your womb begins to coil and fill, a rapturous sting impaling inside. Your folds, springing on her friction, sends a ripple to fluctuate in your ass cheek. Enticing. So enticing, Ellie grabs a handful, bloating fat strokes of your buttcheek between the webs of her delirious fingers.

"Ghh– yes.. yes–" she growls, deep in her lungs. The harness in return rubbed her clit in all the right ways, electrocuting her legs with a twitch, "arch that bsck f'me baby, c'mon– arch on my fuckin' cock–" 

Harking her, you heed. Heed with a convex draw of your back, protruding your ass out for her messy usage. That– that was the last straw, her only straw. You being so keen. Something less than a mutter of, "Good girl." was the last audible voice you could pick up, her game swapping to a faster ramming into your sloppy pussy.

"Ellie!" you wince, praying on a star, "So g–good.." you gape and fall forward, smearing slobber on the drywall.

Her cock was too much. 

A tear soaked upon that very wall, gifting it a taste of your salty heaven.

"Mhmm– god, fuck fuck fuck! You're so good, s'good t'me.." a breath shuddered, she limps forward onto you. Her pale hips still punishing with a litany of humps, now scores deeper on your gushy cervix, her drenched chest marking hot on your clothed back.

"Needa' cum– Els, babe.." why you were even asking, might flummox a future specter of yourself– purling on her thickness, feeling the endless tension pull from you in strings of cum, kissing the head of her cock, you were on the train track to cumming already. Dumbified questions really egged Ellie on, luckily.

"Yeah baby, want'chu to– all over her, she needs it, mhm–" she assures you, two foam–spit lips stamping your lobe, "feel that baby?" her elbow mounts like a belt to your hip crest, ducking under and tamping your womb, palm to pudge, and intones, "She's so fucking deep– shit.." 

Spade of her cock punching your walls, over and over, you finally snap. The added hand to your belly, sought it done. Done well, pronto. 

You convulse in tight vices to squeeze her dick, orgasm shaking you to the literal core, "Huunhh– Ellie, Els! Ssuhh– Ell–" a clammy paw wedges your mouth from splitting the walls with your uproar, fingers tender on your lips cushion.

"Shh– shh.. not so loud babe, take it easy–" snuffing you, she talks clemently, little grunts detailing you on how close she was, too, "that's it.. don't hold back baby– uh, fuck."

Her cock fucks you just right, blows you fried so easily, with every heavy lunge– you weep.

A pang twisting inside averts a sightly gaze to the beautiful coastline of darkness, pure oblivion. Fuzzy dollops of faded splotches prance your vision like a sick joke, mocking your high. You can't even croak, not even a peep, just sit back and let cum dribble from your hole, plashing her filthy cock in a sick mess.

Right on a dream–like cue, a snarled groan mauls from the deepest depth of her diaphragm, fresh on your ear, "Ghhodd– fhmm, good fuckin' pussh– mhh!" 

Splash.

Her lids squinted tight, nose flared wide, she came. In waterfalls you couldn't observe, but swore you heard. A geyser to the floor, hyaline ribbons of her precious flavor taint the floor so disgustingly, so vividly, it shines.

Guess the wine loosened both of her lips.

She usually does not cum like that.

Damn.

Muggy exasperation fans your neck in ghostly hands that wrap, a recalescent mist baying for some kind of relief in dramatic swells and shrinks her chest pushes into you. Then, something moreso flobbed, a chuckle.

"Heheh–" her fingers slip from your lax lips, tapping kittenly on your chin.

"That's was, mhh– um–" you huff, dead of air just like her.

"Good?"

"Yup, just– couldn't.. oof.." 

Her lips purse and plant a kiss to your scruff, grinning against the flesh, "Did good for me," moist smacks besmirch further, rasping, "felt so good t–"

A beating of hardy steps peals through the door's underside, sending a wash of shock over both of you abruptly.

"Fuck." Ellie's voice muffles sotto voce, darting grips to your folded hips, thumbs tacking on the streched knoll your ass provided.

You perk your ears in tune of this noise, gut instinct curls and kicks your body to move, bucking back on Els– who mind you, was still sheathed inside you.

That knocked another grunt from her, "Hmmph– don't do that– god, babyy.." she whines, runting back into you.

Hole stuffed back up, you clench your fists into a ball. This idiot.

"Ellie? You in there?" A familiar, dense, Texan drawl aptly known as Joel's, beacons from beyond the door.

That's bad.

"Shit what do I–"

"Get off, for onee–" a tense on your chords, you huff, bucking her muck sweat thighs off your hind and skidding out her cock pronto. The sudden emptiness was jarring, but, no time to waste.

"Fuck! Again–" she hisses.

You crouch your bare bum inches from the floor and swoop up the pooling pile of denim and cotton panties, rearing them up and fiddling with the metal button. Ellie followed suit, the best of her abilities– sex really fogs up her faculties, and pressed her cock plumb to her stomach as to tuck it properly her boxers, letting the band snap in place on waist– gently.

Triple knocks erupt, and then his bellow, "Kiddo?"

"We're good, we'll be down!" she calls back, eyes far from not studying your scurrying silhouette, just has to comment, "–fuck that ass." like she wanted more.

A grumbled 'Hmm' vibrates on the oak, trailed by fleeting footsteps that trudge away, thump, thump– you get it.

"Oh?" you kink your whisper, foxily, "second rounds?" and pivot around to face her.

"Mphht– not what I meant, dickhead." her voice deepens weirdly at the brink her sentence plonked upon, cocking her head with a smirk.

"Whatever." your eyes roll, capering off the room's corners.

"Hmph–" gruffed in amusement, "Cutie." gingerly steps huddle you right against that wall again, two biceps meeting warmth–to–warmth with your soaken shirts waistline.

Scoff, just scoff, "I think this is how second rounds start, liar." 

She goes all bumbly, furrowing those bushy orange brows and frisking her eyes in a roll, copycat, "Don't get me started, pleasee." she begged fakely, cadence dense.

"Too late."

"You're right." her lips, wisp to yours so perfectly timed, interlocking one pink bud under your top lip and butting noses, plushing together in tide. Even plopped a little smack to the clad meat of your ass, how sweet.

A scant hint of dinner lingered on her breath, passed to you like a spill. Makes you want to slink those stairs in one go for a different palate of seconds. But, alas, you two bet smooches on the hope of no further interruptions, scarfing up kisses like hungry dogs.

(pls lmk if u wanna be added to the perm list, some mentions didnt work!)

@whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss