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kelin-is-writing · 1 year

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+18 MDNI

dabi x fem!reader; he’s so needy in this one my god, breeding kink, stomach bulge, creampie, oral (f!receiving), blow job. BE AWARE.

pussydrunk!dabi who just can’t help but let out a throaty dragged groan whenever he’s balls deep inside of you, tip kissing your cervix, and your walls clench around him like a vice making his turquoise eyes roll all the way back into his skull “f-fuck... it feels so damn good inside of you baby–!”, it’s what comes out of his gaping mouth all slurred, the warmness and wetness of your pussy around his cock making dabi’s brain become all mushy, no thoughts whatsoever, only him quivering at how blissful he was feeling in that moment, dick practically molding your walls into his shape, sending him in cloud nine.

he looks down watching how his cock disappears inside your pussy and then coming out covered in more juices he inhales a sharp breath from between gritted teethes “shit–!”, he would fuck you all day if it was for him, your cunt felt way too good to leave it empty.

when dabi’s eyes roam up and he sees the shape of his dick’s tip in your belly his breath hitch inside his throat, he secures his hold on your waist and lifting himself a little on his knees he angles his hips higher and then picks up pace, groaning along with each thrust while getting high on the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, the loud moans coming out from that pretty mouth of yours making the whole thing even better “aah fuck–! cumming! fuck fuck fuck. fuck–! i’m gonna cum so hard...”, he whimpers while resting his hands at the sides of your head, holding onto the sheets underneath you for dear life as his hips starts pounding inside your pussy at a speed that made you let out a choked moan; dabi stares your way dazed before he leans down looking at you with pleading eyes and cheeks tainted of pink as he panted, leaving you totally speechless at his state “lemme cum inside of you princess, please. i need it so fucking bad, wanna fill up your pretty pussy to the brim with my kids... allow me...”, the raven-haired boy spoke an inch away from your face with a needy low husky tone that was so hot and sexy, those butterflies inside your belly went crazy to say the least, how can you even say no to a request made in such an endearing way?

when dabi spills his seed into your cervix and long your walls, the both of you were in pure ecstasy, mind totally empty. you were panting at the fantastic sensation of his hot cum inside of you, body trembling uncontrollably from the aftermath of your own orgasm, while dabi is glancing down where you two are connected watching his cum pooling at the base of his cock “nnh... so fucking good... wanna stay inside of you forever baby.”, as he pushes his hips flush into yours mumbling about how he can’t let any of it spill, your pitiful whine because of the overstimulation making him groan before he thrusts slowly once into you for the sake of pushing as much seed as he can inside your hole.

pussydrunk!dabi who would seriously eat you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner, tongue flat on your cunt licking between your folds with long stripes or slurping on it loudly and languidly like a starved man eating a full course meal for the very first time.

dabi’s favorite position to eat you out is you sitting on his face, the smell of your arousal is enough to make him hard but the moment your pussy rests on his mouth he’s in heaven, eyes rolling back as his arms go to encircle your thighs to push you down even more on him, because that wasn’t enough, he needed more “ahh yeah... pure fucking bliss...”, he groaned while starting to makeout with your cunt, tongue teasing your entrance a few times deluding you into thinking he was gonna put it in before he goes to lick in circles your throbbing clit “shit... you taste so damn good doll, would devour you all day.”, comes a muffled praise from dabi that makes your pussy clench around nothing and that made such a sinful moan come out of his lips that got you now let out an especially loud one, his palms going to fondle your ass before they slid up to your waist rubbing circles on them and then higher, cupping your breasts gently before squeezing them. when you started grind your cunt against his mouth, you could feel a grin curl up dabi’s lips in satisfaction as he glanced intensely and feverishly at your pleading needy face “i got you baby.”, before he fluttered his eyes close to savour every second while pushing his tongue past your fold and inside your pussy, starting to slurp on it while tongue-fucking you and feeding off of your tasty juices and sublime moans not caring one bit about the fact that you were pulling on his hair whilst crying out in pleasure.

when you come all over his face, dabi groans along your moan with his cerulean irisies leaving space to pearl white, arms plopping wide open onto the mattress loudly as he drank every single drop of your juices like he hasn’t had something to drink in ages, his own cum dripping long his shaft and plastered all over his pelvis.

“thank you for the meal.”

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #dabi #touya todoroki #bnha smut #mha smut #dabi smut #touya todoroki smut #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #dabi x reader smut #touya todoroki x reader smut #pussydrunk!dabi #kelin 🖋#wanted to say that i'm a huge ass shameless dabi brain rot but like– when am i not really??

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fluloa · 1 year

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WET | jake sully x reader [mini series pt. 1]

“Again.”

You grunt, arms tired and soar, and you feel like crying. Sometimes— no, all the time, you wished that anyone else was your teacher instead of Jake. Who cares if he was once a human as well? He hasn't been one in years and if you were honest, he's more harsher than the actual natives. You've heard that when he was a younger na'vi, he was a bit of a troublemaker. Which is why you're so confused as to why he always has a stick up his fucking ass with you.

Some of your braids fall in front of your face as you look down, shoulders sinking, "But—"

"No buts," Jake sterns, gripping at your forearm and shoving it upwards to which you whine at, "arms up."

With a whimper, you stretch out the bow, back twinging in pain as the dips of your fingers sting. Jake moves, eyeing you from a different angle before gliding behind you. He surprises you when he wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you flush against him as you yelp out. His grip is hard.

"Your back needs to be straight like this." He teaches, demonstrating your now straightened back that is pushed up against his torso. "Not hunched over like this," he pushes your shoulder forward, setting your back into the position you were before.

The thing was, Jake had a very physical type of communication. Something that annoyed you and gave you a shameful amount of pleasure at the same time.

"Otherwise, the strength in your pullback is weakened." He steps back with a click of his tongue, "thought you already learned that, girl."

That nickname again. God, you didn't know why, but it did something to you. Made something swirl hot in the pit of your stomach. Just the deep husk of his voice brewing out the word—

You blink, a quick shake of your head and a flick of your tail and you can feel his gaze burn into your head.

"What is it?"

You turn to him, analysing the look on his face and it's something that you can't put your finger on. You hope it isn't disappointment. You clear your throat, "what is what?"

His eyebrows crease together into a frown before they raise against his forehead. "You're unfocused. Distracted. Like you've got something on your mind."

"I don't," you say, scratching an itchy place on your arm as you try your best to keep your face plain.

"You do. Spit it out," he demands, folding his arms and you can't help but let your eyes flicker to the thick bulge of them. He catches the motion. His eyebrows raise again, but this time it's for a different reason. He circles you again, but this time, it's for a different reason. "You look flustered," he comments, and you swear you see the slightest hint of a grin on his lips.

"I'm not," you rush, eyes widened and heart picking up a hundred times pace.

Jake stops behind you again, tilting his head as you eye him from the side. The warmth of his breath fans against your neck. "You are." He whispers, his tone low and it sends goosebumps through your body. "What? You need a release?"

He says it so casually that it makes you almost choke on your own spit.

"I don't understand, sir." You feel heat rise to your cheeks, head spinning as you try and contemplate what he had just said.

"Not that much to understand. A release is a release." He shrugs, "Not that hard to give it to you. Just gotta tell me if you want it."

Your body is hot. Like, really hot. You feel like you'll explode in any second, and you're not sure if it's in a good or a bad way. You finally meekly turn your head around to see him staring down at you, his eyes relaxed with his jaw set loose. It's intimidating. He really thinks this is normal. You let your eyes slip, flicking to the sweet curve of his lips and that's when he knows.

He pushes you to the closest tree with his hand gripped at your upper arm, and it’s like you’re entranced to just let him do it. Your back hits the tree, its rough bark spiking your skin. You feel the urge to sink your head down into its trunk when Jake leans over, scooping his fingers under your hair and cupping your neck. He pulls you up, sealing his lips to yours and you’re almost rising on your toes from his grip. His other hand glides to support the side of your thigh, fingers rough as they dig into the plush of your skin and never relax. His lips are smooth, melting against yours when he slips his tongue into your mouth. It’s the opposite of chaste as he molds you with the skilful flick of his tongue, holding the back of your head with a heavy hand and beginning to rub gentle circles with his fingers on your thigh.

It’s enough to have the hot swirl spend in your stomach, enough to have you panting and wanting more. Your hands finally pick up enough courage to place them on his shoulders, not without the jitter of your fingers and you can feel a quiet scoff come from him. Dickhead. He probably thinks this is some kind of game, that you’re just a little piece of entertainment for him to end the day. Your thoughts crumble when he suddenly pushes your thigh up, jutting you against him as he wraps your leg around his waist.

His hand finds your lower stomach, resting there for a moment as his fingers curl against your small pouch. Then, his hand slips down, catches onto the mangy material of your loincloth, and he finally breaks your mouth from his. A string of saliva thins and sticks to the bottom of your lip, your chest rising quickly and your breath uneven.

He wipes it for you with the flat of his thumb, then dips it into his own mouth. You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the heat between your thighs begin to moisture. With his eyes still on you, his fingers dive, picking up the front of your loincloth and flipping it to sit at your thigh. Your connected gaze breaks when his eyes flicker to your lower body, a glimpse of his eyes twitching wide for a second and you feel a wave of embarrassment creep over you.

“Fuck, isn’t that a pretty little sight.” He mutters, then looking at your loin cloth, then back up to you. “Take it off.”

You lay there for a second, heart racing and cheeks warm. He snaps you into action when his head tilts, an action you’ve come to learn as ‘did you not just hear what I said or do I have to make you hear it?’

Finally, the loincloth falls loose, sliding down your hips and onto the ground. Immediately, his thumb is on your clit, circling the bud teasingly and painfully slow. His other hand holds your hip, keeping you comfy in between the tree and himself. He watches you with curious eyes, catching the way your breath hitches and the way your lips fall split.

Two fingers lather down your split, feathering at your folds and experimentally teasing around your entrance. “You always get this wet?” He breathily asks, and you can’t tell if the question is out of proper impressment or just plain teasing. When he doesn’t see you answering, his fingers at your jaw, a lean in with his head. His lips are a centimetre away from yours as he frowns, “I asked you a question.”

You gulp, and a whine breaks from your throat when he presses down onto your clit. “I don’t know…”

He pinches your clit. You jump in his grasp. “Fi—Fine! No.”

He gives a slow kiss to the dip of your neck, flicking at your clit lazily and it makes your thighs fucking tremble. His middle and ring fingers ghost over your pulsing entrance, and you wonder why this man is such a tease. “Tell me you want it,” he mumbles.

His teeth sneak past his lips to nip at your skin, pulling on it gently with his tongue sponging out as well. You knew a hickey was on its way.

“Come on, I want to hear it.” Jake encourages, a hard roll to your clit that has your eyes rolling back with it. He bites down into your neck, a gasp flying from you when you feel his fangs dig into your skin. “Don’t make me force it outta ya,” he warns, the dark edge to his voice dampening his fingers with your running slick.

“Yes, I… I want it,” you whisper. The girth of his two middle fingers slip into your cunt smooth and you can’t help but groan. You stretch out and around him, and a small smile twitches across Jake’s face.

He whistles low and quiet, “Look at the way you suck me in,” he almost says to himself, eyeing the way his blue fingers dissolve into you. He starts moving them in and out gently, to which you gasp loud at. A quiet, taunting laugh is heard from above you. “That’s right.”

His fingers are long and thick, and you can feel the many callouses imprinted on them as they drag along your walls. The moment of gentle is gone when Jake picks up the pace, digging his thumb into your clit. Your back arches, hands digging into his shoulders before falling to the muscle of his arms.

The speed becomes into a ferocious one. It’s rough and unforgiving, like he’s trying to reach deep inside of you and pull something out. The hand on your hip shifts, to speed past your top and press down hard onto your right boob. He squeezes it, rolling the nipple in between the gap of his two fingers. Your breathing gets stuck inside your throat as you choke out a whimper. “Jake—“

“Quit whining.” Jake snaps, then a quick pinch to your nipple. “Take it.”

His fingers curl inside of you, make your body jolt and a hot lick of fire whip through your belly. His palm replaces his thumb on your clit, the length of his fingers jammed full into your cunt as the tough layer of skin of his palm rubs against it. Your hips jerk against him, the grip on his arms tight like if you let go, you'll die.

You let out a tiny moan, and Jake grips at your jaw again, his finger playing at the bottom of your lip before pulling it open, having your mouth in an O shape. "Don't hold back on those noises now, girl."

The band in your stomach tightens, a hard pull to your body and your head slumps against the tree. You can feel its tiny flecks of wood dig into your scalp, but you don't care because all you can focus on is Jake's fingers, moving in and out of you in such a pace, you could catch fire. Now you understand what he's trying to pull out of you, and it's not in a nice way. The release. Like once he gets his hands on it, he'll rip it out.

And he does. You feel your vision fall blurry when your orgasm, the release, crashes through you, rocking your body hard. You cry out, voice cracking into pieces. His fingers keep working up into you, helping you through your high as you regain sensibility. Everything is silent, except for your ragged breathing. You finally blink up at him. He blinks down at you. He pulls his fingers leisurely out of you, the cool of the night's air hitting your bare cunt. He looks down at his soaked fingers before dipping them into his mouth, tongue flatting against them and sucking them clean. You can't read his face.

He puts you back down onto the ground, your knees wobbly and you'd fall over if it weren't for the tree pressed up against your back at the moment. Jake's eyebrows raise slightly.

"Better?" He asks, and before you can respond he's walking away, the leaves underneath his feet making a crushing noise. You're left with only your timid breath, as your loincloth lays messy around your toes.

here’s part two bc yall were THIRSTY. ur welcome alien fuckers💙

#jake sully smut #jake sully #avatar the way of water #jake sully x reader #avatar 2 #love me some blue alien himbo thick dick #except it’s not really dick just fingers #jakes fingers are fucking magical #dilf jake sully #avatar 2 jake sully #he is so slept on in avatar 2 #smut #shameless smut #tbh

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sluttygallavich · 2 months

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Ian spits on mickeys hole and they both enjoy it 🤝

The first time it happens, it’s out of pure necessity.

They’ve just chased each other across half of South Side and up six flights of crumbling stairs, blood pumping and hearts racing. By the time they get to the mattress they have set up behind a half-collapsed wall near Ian’s makeshift training course they’re both practically out of their minds and completely desperate for it.

“Get the shit, Gallagher.”

Mickey already has his jeans pulled down to his knees and is looking back over his shoulder at him expectantly when the crushing realization hits.

Shit.

Mickey’s eyebrows furrow at Ian’s stricken expression. “The fuck, Gallagher. You didn’t come prepared?”

And no, actually, he hadn’t come prepared for Mickey to materialize in the middle of a busy street and crash his…whatever with Ned, and he sure as fuck hadn’t been planning on letting things with Ned go any further than a couple of drinks and maybe a hurried hand job if the old guy was really insistent. So no, he is in no way prepared for the situation he finds himself in now—ass naked but for his socks and rock hard, with his sorta boyfr– with Mickey’s perfect pale cheeks just begging to be spread.

He huffs, cheeks pinkening under Mickey’s accusatory stare.

“Get on your back, I’ll blow you instead.” Ian tries not to let on how disappointed he is, even as he suggests it, but it doesn’t seem to matter because Mickey makes no move to roll over. Instead, he bites at his bottom lip, considering.

“You gonna keep sticking it in that geriatric pedo?” he asks finally, voice gruff but eyes darting around, betraying his nerves.

And Ian’s first instinct is to roll his eyes and protest at that, but, well… yeah, okay.

His second instinct is to turn the question around and ask if Mickey’s going to keep sticking it in Angie Zago or whatever other neighbourhood slut is willing, but, well…

This is Mickey sort of trying, isn’t it? This is missed ya under the bleachers, and this is helping Ian train for West Point nearly every day since he’s been back, and this is the mattress that “fell off the back of a truck” after Ian complained about the concrete floor fucking up his knees. This is following him today and beating the shit out of that geriatric pedo in the middle of the street because he was jealous but couldn’t just say it.

This is Mickey staking a claim, maybe.

“No,” Ian answers, heart racing at what he thinks might be happening—what he thinks Mickey might be proposing. And he wasn’t going to ask, but as he shuffles closer on the mattress, he finds that he just needs to know. He needs to hear it too. “Are you?”

Mickey snorts, turning his head back around so Ian can no longer see his face.

“Am I gonna stick my dick in that grandpa’s wrinkly old ass? Nah man, you don’t gotta worry about that.”

Ian reaches out then, just a single hand brushing lightly at Mickey’s hip, and he realizes it’s the first time they’ve touched since rushing up here, too frantic earlier to do anything but tear at their own clothes.

“Mick…”

And he must hear something in Ian’s voice then, because when Mickey speaks again the derisiveness of a moment before is gone. He just sounds desperate again. Pleading, even.

“C’mon, Ian, just get in me.”

And it’s not exactly an answer, is it? But it’s Ian instead of Gallagher, and it’s the vulnerability he can feel rolling off Mickey in this moment, and it’s trust, really. And Ian finds that’s good enough for now.

He grips Mickey’s ass with both hands and relishes in the heavy exhale it pulls from him, almost like Mickey had been holding his breath. Like relief. And Ian feels it too. So strongly he’s almost faint with it. He spreads Mickey wide and pets at his hole with his thumb, mouth falling open as he watches it flutter and try to pull him in.

“Fuck, Mick,” he groans. He feels even more wild than he did a few minutes ago. “Still don’t have any lube though.”

Mickey’s head drops down between his shoulders as Ian presses just the tip of his thumb inside him, dry.

“Just spit on it, Gallagher, Jesus.”

And Ian feels like he’s been kicked in the back, all the air rushing out of his lungs at once.

“Are– are you sure?”

“Holy fuck, yes, yes, I’m sure,” Mickey huffs. “You need to see it in fuckin’ writing or what?”

Ian doesn’t react to that, too used to Mickey’s impatience and bluster for it to faze him anymore and still far too preoccupied with Mickey’s clenching hole and the prospect of covering it in his spit, which suddenly seems like the hottest thing he’s ever considered.

Mickey’s spit-slicked hole and Ian’s bare cock sinking into it. Fuck. He prays he lasts longer than two sad pumps.

He knees at Mickey’s legs and gets him to spread them wider, running his nails up Mickey’s back before forcing his upper body down to the mattress, leaving just Mickey’s ass sticking up in the air for Ian to do with as he pleases. He gathers as much saliva in his mouth as he can and leans closer, spreading Mickey’s cheeks again and spitting directly on his puckered rim, the sound loud and obscene in the quiet of the abandoned rubble.

“Oh fuck…” Ian whispers, immediately dragging his thumb through the warm spit and pushing into Mickey’s hole. “Oh fuck, Mick.”

Mickey just groans, pushing back against Ian’s hands, encouraging more.

Ian spits again, this time slowly pushing two fingers into Mickey’s heat, just to the first knuckles, just to see, but Mickey’s demand for more has him quickly pushing in the rest of the way, stretching and fucking him open until his hole is gaping, just a little, and fuck, what if he spit right inside of him?

He chokes off a moan at the thought and continues getting Mickey prepped, but once the idea has been raised in his mind it latches on and he can’t let it go.

Mickey’s pushing back against his fingers, three buried instead him now. “C’mon, Gallagher, while we’re still young,” he grouses, though the effect is somewhat lessened by how fucked out he sounds.

Ian reaches a hand around Mickey’s compact body and presents it palm up and slightly cupped in front of Mickey’s face.

“You too,” Ian manages to get out. “Spit.”

Mickey attempts a laugh, but now that Ian’s nailing his prostate with every other thrust of his fingers it sounds more like it’s been punched out him.

“You’re a freak, Gallagher.” But he doesn’t hesitate to do as he’s told, and now Ian’s using Mickey’s spit to slick up his own cock and shit, maybe he won’t even make it to two sad pumps.

He squeezes at the head of his cock, clear beads gathering at the tip, and Ian’s usually pretty impressive self-control immediately snaps. He pulls his fingers out of Mickey’s ass and spits directly into his empty hole. Mickey lets out a breathy “Fuck,”and it’s all somehow even hotter than Ian was just imagining.

“Ready?” he can’t help but ask, dragging his throbbing cock through the mess he’s made, his own precum only adding to the wet slick. He half expects another snarky response, and when he doesn’t get one, he knows Mickey is just as a far gone as he is.

“Yeah, ready, yes,” Mickey babbles. “Fuck yes…”

Ian keeps a steady grip on Mickey’s hip, his other hand slowly guiding himself inside, and shit it’s tight. And hot. It’s hot and tight and so, so much that Ian swears his vision darkens at the edges a little bit. He remembers then to breathe at the same time that Mickey moans—moans! Mickey never moans!—and tries to press back against him. There’s more resistance than Ian’s used to, but the feeling of being inside Mickey with nothing between them more than makes up for the lack of lube.

Ian can’t look away from where they’re connected, skin to skin. He’s practically panting like a dog, his tongue feeling parched and dry, but he gathers as much saliva as he can and spits one last time, watching it pool around where his shaft disappears into the tight ring of Mickey’s hole before pressing the rest of the way in.

“Shit, Gallagher, need you to move.”

Ian’s let himself slump forward across Mickey’s back, his forehead pressing between his shoulder blades.

“Need…a minute,” he breathes into Mickey’s skin, eyes squeezed shut. “Jesus Mick, you feel so fucking tight. Not gonna last.”

Never one to be kept waiting, Mickey starts up a slow roll of his hips. “Don’t worry, Firecrotch,” he says, rocking back and forth on Ian’s cock. “Ain’t gonna last either. Better make the next thirty seconds count.”

Ian huffs out a laugh and pushes himself up off Mickey’s back so he can piston into the older boy the way he knows he likes. His belly swoops at the way his bare cock looks drilling into Mickey, and truthfully, it’s not much more than a minute or two later when he feels that familiar tingling in his balls that lets him know he’s about to bust. And shit, he hasn’t really thought this far ahead. Should he pull out? Is Mickey going to let him—

“Oh fuck. Mick, I’m gonna– Shit, I’m–” He’s the one babbling now. He feels panicked, knowing the clock is quickly running down. Finally, he manages a complete thought. “Mickey, where should I come?”

Mickey is working his own cock furiously in his fist, his breathing labored around his moans. Ian’s never heard him be this vocal. His balls are drawing up at the sound of Mickey’s pleasure, but still Mickey hasn’t given him an answer.

“Mick, please…oh god, oh fuck…where should I–”

“Come inside me.”

“Oh god…”

Ian only hears a ringing in his ears after that. Without thinking he wraps his arms around Mickey’s torso and hauls him up so that his back is pressed firm against Ian’s chest. He holds him tight and buries his face in Mickey’s neck as his release crashes through him, lighting up every inch of his skin that’s connected to Mickey’s, that’s in Mickey.

Dimly he’s aware of Mickey crying out and shuddering around him, his head tipping back to rest against Ian’s, and he’s struck, suddenly, by the intimacy of it all—they’ve never been closer, he thinks—before they’re both pitching forward and collapsing together, Ian slipping from Mickey’s body as they come to settle next to each other on their sides.

They’re both quiet, save for their ragged breathing, as they slowly come down from their highs. Mickey’s shirt is still on, but Ian watches his back rise and fall, admires the faint freckles on his exposed shoulder, follows a bead of sweat meandering down Mickey’s neck from his hairline and has to restrain himself from licking the rivulet it leaves in its wake.

Eventually his gaze drifts lower, and despite coming harder than he ever has in his life less than two minutes ago, he’s hit with an intense wave of emotion—arousal, definitely, but something else too—that has his dick twitching and his pulse kicking right back up. It’s a mess of cum and sweat and spit, and it should be gross, maybe, but all Ian can think is that it’s them. He closes his eyes and smiles.

The first time it happens, it’s the start of something new.

#well this one really got away from me 😅#prompt fill #sorry it took me 100 years to write something #i am posting blindly without rereading because 😳🙈#gallavich #smut #ian x mickey #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #fanfic #shameless

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answer2jeff · 4 months

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fixer-upper. // lip gallagher

lip x biker-girl!OC

warnings : public sex, oral (m!receiving), praise kink, light to rough hair-pulling, unestablished relationship, intense and obvious flirting, porn with plot and detail, mentions of smoking (tobacco), cursing, OC is just as full of herself as Lip, knows she's a bitch, kinda has a weird sense of possessiveness over him?? clunky and overly detailed writing with a journaling/diary style.

authors note : trying something a little different! using the first person POV with an original character. first time writing this way—still getting the hang of it <3 this is REALLY long...sorry.

song : beauty school.

disclaimer : you can picture the OC however you like! her name is really just used for aesthetic purposes. there isn't much description on her appearance other than the fact that her hair is long enough to put it in a ponytail. enjoy!

Great. Fucking great.

One of my tires is punctured. The visor in my helmet is cracked. My elbows are etched with surface level scratches and dried blood. And the engine cover of my bike has finally snapped off. I had it coming. It was an old piece of rusty junk from my cousins garage sale from 2012, anyway. But it had charm. I knew I was gonna miss that bike for the good couple of hours, possibly days, I would reluctantly end up leaving it in a repair shop down the street from my apartment.

I can hear the squelch of skin, the seal between my hot breath and sweaty skin breaking as lift my helmet from my head. I hope to feel a rush of cool air, but the humidity tells me to go fuck myself. I'm pulled over onto the curb. I can't totally remember how I got there; being in the middle of the street on a scorching summer day wearing denim shorts that chafe up my inner thighs and rub my skin until it is raw and red and unbearably itchy, was not my vision for today. My handlebars are loose. That would explain it.

If I just take it to Born Free Cycles, leave it overnight, and come back in the morning, I can act like this whole thing never happened, and I'm not horribly irresponsible.

40th West View Ave.

Oh. I'm close actually. Barely a block away. I should go there now. I can call Mikey and have him drop me and the bike off at the garage. I'll see that kid with the grown out buzz-cut and black motor grease on his knuckles that somehow always transfers and blots on his face. Specifically on his strong jaw and right before the peak of his hairline. I wonder if he notices. Maybe he doesn't clean it off because it gives him edge that he doesn't need. Like the nickname on his name tag on a black uniform hadn't given his thirst for trouble away already. And the circles under his eyes are almost the same shade of smudged charcoal grey.

I wonder if he notices.

—

"So the engine cover popped? Just—" he shrugs, looking up at me as if I can't understand him "clean off?"

The sunlight bleeds in through the open garage door. It shines behind Lip, casting a shadow that makes his face hard to see perfectly. But I know the look he's conveying. His eyebrows are raised but drawn slightly closer together, his teeth are gnawing at the inside of his cheek so he can stifle a smile and the laugh that will follow soon after, and his blinks remain slow. I try not to smile too. But I fail.

I've only been here about 3 times, really. The first time was to get handlebar grips from Eddie. That was when I saw Lip. I chose not to make any kind of move, but it ate at my insides until the second time. That time was with Mikey. I was preoccupied with the blue-eyed kid, propped up on a workbench and throwing mindless flirty implications at him while he took long drags from a cigarette, to remember why Mikey was even doing there and why he dragged me along with him. His laugh, the playful eye-roll after I complimented his sweat-laden blonde curls weighed down by heat humidity, told me he was on board.

But I wasn't done.

I knew this time I'd pounce for what was mine.

"Yeah," I breathe out, crossing my arms and peering down at him, "And I mighta' been redlining the RPM a little too much. Probably fried the fucking thing."

Lip nods, the corner of his mouth curling up just a bit. He beckons his hand toward himself, telling me to kneel down beside him to inspect the bike. "This things kinda old, huh?" He teases, turning his head to me and finally letting a real smile break. It warms something in me. I shrug. He glances at my white tank-top, covered in black stains of dirt and oil.

"It's not great, no. It's a piece of shit. But it's cute!" I play along with him, taking the hairband on my wrist and twisting my hair into a high ponytail. Lip huffs though his nose, shaking his head and laughing again.

The next couple of minutes are filled with him telling me things I already know. Things I was too exhausted to manage on my own, defeating the whole purpose of why I was here. Fuck the bike. I know what's wrong with the bike. I know it's an old piece of junk and it's barely salvageable. You should know why I'm here. And maybe you do. But you should do something about it.

Lip has this way of speaking to me that feels ridiculously sweet and overly 'cool.' I know it's just his cadence and his cockiness, but I like it. I like that he thinks it makes me swoon. Partially because he's right, but mostly because I've mastered hiding it. He doesn't see my heart pound or the rising heat in my abdomen when he cracks his knuckles or puts a hand on my shoulder and let's it travel down to the small of my back when I crouch down beside him to look at another motorcycle he's trying to save. I'm almost certain he convinces himself that my gestures are nothing more than a meaningless flirt. I simply find him attractive, as does everyone. Nothing more.

But he's got it all wrong.

He knows my intentions somewhat well enough to the point where he can't not flirt back, though. He knows I haven't stopped him from letting his eyes travel from mine to my lips whenever I speak. He likes that I let him light my cigarettes for me. But he doesn't know this isn't just for fun. I'm so hyper-aware that it isn't out of the kindness of his heart. And neither are his compliments and lame jokes he makes to impress me. He treats my attraction to him as fact, but my genuine interest as a possibility.

Again, he's wrong.

I can't wrap my head around how he could reciprocate my efforts without ever pushing the envelope and asking to exchange numbers, or if I had a boyfriend, or maybe he had one of his own. No, no. He'd tell me if he had a girlfriend. He is, above all else, loyal.

Lip's what I want. I meant when I said his hair looked nice. I meant when I gave him a 20-dollar gratuity and a peck on his cheek just for giving me a repair cost estimate on my shattered headlight. I smile any time he says my name: Maeve.

Hey Maeve, back so soon, huh?

Hand me that box, Maeve.

Y'alright, Maeve?

Yo, Maeve, wanna bum one?

Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.

—

"Think you'll be back tomorrow to pick it up? No rush, though. I can keep it 'till you're ready," Lip asks me, leaning against the wooden workbench littered with microfiber towels and tools. His swell arms are crossed to his chest. I nod, coating my fingertips with a thin film of spin while I fish out some cash from my beat up faux leather wallet.

"A-huh. Thanks," I hand him 6 twenties before glancing at the opening of his button-down uniform.

The corner of my mouth lifts itself into a knowing smirk, my hand on my hip as I shift my weight to it, making my chest stick out and my spine bend correspondingly. My lips hang open a measly centimeter apart before I draw the bottom one between my teeth. I watch him sort through the cash, biting down harder on the flesh of my lip when he freezes.

"Looks like you're a good 15 short," he barely mumbles, looking up at me through his eyelashes. His brows narrow down to me again. I click my tongue coyly. I step closer to him, my hand, with fingernails painted black, pushing the cash in his palms down and his arms down with it.

"About that..." I pause, tilting my head with a look of naivety and not bothering to push away the strand of hair that has fallen from my ponytail and over my eye. Instead, I wait and let Lip set the pile of cash down and draw the curtain of my hair open to reveal my face. My stomach twists on itself, and I can practically feel his chest rising and falling with every anxious breath in my own lungs.

I beg to whatever higher power lies above us in this garage that a kiss will work. Not that it usually doesn't, but my form isn't as confident as it typically would be. The guys I wrap around my finger aren't as driven as Lip is. And God, none of them are part of my tantalizing daydreams nearly as often as he is. I picture his rough hands exploring me, squeezing and rubbing over the valleys of my skin. I imagine his breath is hot with the taste of mint and cigarettes. Every part of me wants to know if my predictions are accurate. If he's the type to sink his teeth into my neck and shoulder blades just to apologize to the reddening skin with open-mouthed kisses. The anticipation kills me. It's enough to swallow me whole.

"...Maybe I can pay you back a different way?"

I barely whisper and Lip scoffs, glancing away from my gaze, scanning the area just for it to be completely empty. He comes back to me. His eyes go a little wider than before. Almost to say, 'oh shit, you're serious?' I stick my tongue between my teeth and tug on his uniform, feeling the fabric rub between my sweaty fingertips. My eyes watch Lip's adam's apple bob as he swallows a breath.

"Yeah?" He thumbs my bottom lip and pulls it down, his free hand traveling down to my hip and pulling me closer to him, "what were y'thinking, Maeve?"

"Mmmm," I hum while pressing my hand against his chest while the other cups his cheek, and I let the pad of my thumb graze over the grove of his defined cheekbones. "Dunno yet."

My teasing is much to Lip's dismay, but he handles it quite well. It's sobering to see a guy as seemingly self-involved and easily impressed play into my mind games. It only pushes me further, and he knows it. I crash my lips into his, my hands anchoring themselves on his shoulders for support. He sighs into me, a hand reaching down to hook a finger through the belt loop of my shorts and drag me closer to him. His hand cups my cheek and pulls me into his mouth to let his tongue slip past my own. And he tastes just as I expected. Minty, smoky, and mine. I practically grind my self onto him in complete desperation, feeling him harden under me. Every roll of his hips threatens to send me over the edge. And fuck, his muffled groans of pleasure against my mouth that ring in my ears are hypnotic. But even with his sturdy, growing buldge forcing the fabric of my shorts to press roughly on my clit, I need this to last.

Blissfully and ever so slowly.

I finally pull away to catch my breath, the buck of our waists slowing down. My head feels fuzzy and heat rises in my cheeks when I open my eyes to see how flushed Lip's face is. Even the tips of his ears have turned a little red. I smile, giggling like a teenager who just kissed her crush in a closet at a house party as a dare. He laughs back in a way that asks 'what are we even doing?'

"Thought you had a boyfriend."

I pause, my eyebrows knitted. I try to think of who he could possibly be referring to.

Ah.

"Who? Mikey?" I try not to laugh, looking around to the imaginary audience to check if they're really hearing this nonsense too, "ew, no. He's like my brother."

Lip lets out a breath of relief he almost didn't realize he'd been holding. It surprises me. Probably a lot more than it should. But hey, for the other 3 times I've been here, I kept asking myself why his flirting was just as intense as mine, but he never asked for my number or made a true move on me. To think that my friend had been unintentionally cockblocking me with his ridiculous height and horrid American traditional tattoos all over his arms, and it wasn't because the guy had a girlfriend...it's almost funny.

"Oh," he replies, his eyebrows raising. Now both of his hands rest at my hips.

"What? Is that why you left me hangin' when I did this?" I press a kiss against his cheek, my palm rubbing over his shoulder to pull a chuckle out of him.

"I guess so, yeah. Just didn't want him to kill me for getting to close t'you," he kisses my cheek, smiling again.

"Geez. Mikey wouldn't hurt a fucking fly. He just...looks scary. Plus, nobody tells me what to do."

"Noted. Glad to hear that, actually."

"Mikey is—" I pause, biting the inside of my cheek "a sweet guy."

"Uh-huh."

"Too sweet. And I hate the aftershave he uses. He's—he's entirely too much."

"Mm."

"Whatever. Shut up."

"Didn't say anything," he shrugs, trying and failing to act clueless.

Fuck. He's fucking glad. He's glad I don't have a stupid-waste-of-my-time-cockblocking-boyfriend on my hip who's constantly watching my every move and stopping me from giving all of myself to Lip. Hell, I'm glad too. Very glad. With one swift movement, I take matters into my own hands again. I undo every last plastic button on his uniform, snaking down his chest and abdomen. I latch onto his neck, biting the skin and sucking a bruising hickey. He shivers beneath me and wraps his hand around my ponytail, huffing breathless chuckles and slowly getting more and more frustrated with my agonizingly slow, torturing pace for foreplay.

I bend my knees to begin my descend to the ground, kissing down his torso. My hands travel down his sides. Lip gently lets go of my hair to lean back into the workbench, never letting his head reel back so he can carefully watch me tenderly adhere to his needs while anchoring his hands behind him for support. I giggle to myself, relishing in the affect I have on him.

Shit. This is risky. Screw it. Pretty girl without a boyfriend who tips in 20 dollar bills and blowjobs? How could I say no? No part of me wants to back out, Lip's mind races, his grip tightening on the wooden slab as he clenches his jaw.

I wonder if he's nervous. Or maybe he's done this time and time again: fucking a girl right in this garage. Possibly bent over this very work bench. Those girls must've been so easy. I can bet on my life that they were never as fun, never as wet, never as needy as me. This would be different. I wouldn't give him everything he wanted and more that quickly. A girl deserves to have her fun. She deserves to watch the overly confident guy she's fancied for weeks, who continues to play hard to get, squirm and writhe with every slight of hand she gives him.

And that's exactly what I'm doing.

"Y'having fun down there?" Lip chastises me, chuckling lightly to himself as he tilts his head down to get a better look at my face.

My kisses stop right above the waistband of his jogger pants. I look up at him pleadingly through my lashes, my eyes big with lust and cunning seduction. I pull the middle of the waistband down just so I can drag my tongue across the exposed skin just centimeters away from his cock. The curls of his happy trail tickle my chin, but the full body shiver and the shaky exhale of "fuck," as he tries to keep his composure, makes it so worth it. He finally shuts his eyes, head reeling back. I lick my lips and smile, cupping his groin before he can even think about looking back down and feeling the blood rush to his cock again. His twitching dick underneath my palm sends me sitting on my heel, ready to slowly rock my hips down into it to fill my desperate need for friction. My cotton panties are definitely soaked.

I can't waste any more time.

I remove my hand from his crotch and quickly pull his pants and his boxers down with them. They pool at his ankles, and his cock strains hard and leaking sticky, crystal clear pre-cum from the thick and aching tip. My mouth nearly drops. I admire every vein, letting my hand wrap around the base of his cock once I've spit into it as makeshift lubricant. I'm so lost that I don't even register Lip peering down at me, swallowing impatiently.

"My, you're so worked up, Lip. And I haven't even started." I don't bother to look up at him as I rub my hand up and down his shaft, worried his pretty face will distract me. But I can picture him perfectly.

"Fuck you," he huffs through a struggled laugh, covering his mouth as he groans in pleasure at the feeling of my hand squeezing his cock every once and a while as I slowly pump him up and down.

"Later," I retort. I bite down on my bottom lip, looking up at him again for permission. He nods, almost as if he's able to read my mind. My eyes shut and my stomach flutters. Soft lips cover the head, swirling my tongue over the slit. His tip leaves my mouth with a loud pop, and I lick a bold stripe along the thickets vein I can find.

"Jesus, fuck, Maeve!" He writhes, his breath hitched in his throat by me hollowing out my cheeks and taking nearly 3/4 of his total length into my mouth. Moans of pure bliss at the feeling of his cock enveloped by the wet warmth of my mouth echo through the garage. I fear he's too loud, but I decide not to care. Not now.

My hand pumps the rest of his cock that I don't fit into my mouth at the moment, while my free hand reaches for his. My eyes remain closed and my sucking maintains a steady pace as I bob my head up and down his cock. I grab his hand and set it on the top of my head, but he hesitates.

"W—you sure, Maeve? I don't wanna hurt you," he swallows, accidentally bucking his hips into my mouth and running his unoccupied hand through his sweaty curls. I detach myself from him, wiping the mixture of pre and spit from the corner of my mouth and finally looking up at him.

"You won't," I take a deep breath, "I won't let you. I'll tell you if 's too much, kay?"

"Okay. Maybe just—" he clears his throat "tap my leg 3 times? And I'll...uh—I'll let go? Yeah?" He looks beautiful. Flushed, bare, and oh so needy for my touch. I wish I could keep him like this forever. He's so compliant, so understanding. But part of me knows that once I let him do this, it'll show me the side of him I've really been praying to see.

I nod, smiling contently and feeling myself blush when he twirls his fingers around my ponytail again. He bends over just the smallest bit to cup my chin and smile back. The pad of his thumb grazes over my skin before he lets go. I take it as my sign to go back, pressing my hands against either of his thighs and feeling clit jump with excitement when Lip tugs at my hair the moment I take his cock into my mouth again. I bob my head up and down, my eyes rolling back when his tip hits the back of my throat. Tears prick at my waterline as I struggle not to cough.

I grow even more desperate. My hand dives into my shorts and I slide two of my fingers inside of me, unfortunately never living up to the potential size and feeling of Lip's. The continuous ram into my gummy and tender spot causes me to fall apart, whining with his dick occupying the space in my mouth.

"Oh my God," Lip nearly whines, his grip tightening as he guides my head up and down his dick, but it's so gentle it never startles me, "so fuckin' good, baby. Jesus, fu—ah..keep doin' that. Yes, fuck.."

My tongue swishes over and under his cock in mind-numbing patterns, and I can't help but let little muffled moans escape my throat and vibrate against him. He almost can't contain himself: bucking his hips and practically fucking my throat. I do my best to cancel out the occasional gag so quickly he won't feel guilty and possibly stop.

Use me, I think.

Usually, I'd take the lead, never letting a head pusher take the role. But not this time. Lip's so pent up, so stressed with the complexities of his life. This is a kind gesture. One that involves tears of struggle spilling out of my eyes and streaming down ky cheeks. But fuck, I love it. It's filthy. It's nasty the way I nearly suck him dry. I can't remember the last time a blowjob was this fun.

"Such a good girl. Y'know that?" He looks down at me, biting his lip as his eyebrows knit in pleasure and desperate need to cum down my pretty little throat, "how'd you get so fuckin...so fuckin' good at this, baby? Shit—feels so good."

He babbles over and over again, and I'm taking strategic breaths through my nose and speeding the pace of my fingers as they thrust in and out of me so I don't stop him from releasing the way he absolutely deserves. Finally, he pulls my ponytail tighter than he ever has, warning me that he's about to cum, but by the time he tells me, it sends down my throat. He groans out, releasing my hair and going limp. I swallow the salty substance, blinking out the last few tears in my eyes and sliding my fingers out of me.

—

Lip: 1 message.

Hey. 11:47pm

Hey. Miss me already? 11:52pm

Something like that, yeah. 11:56pm

What's up 11:58pm

I get off early tomorrow. Just wondering if you wanted to come by the shop and hang out for a bit? 11:59pm

Sure. See you then. xoxo 12:03am.

—

current taglist : @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria

#lip gallagher x oc #lip gallagher #lip gallagher smut #shameless x OC #lip gallagher x reader smut #lip gallagher x oc smut #shameless #shameless x reader #jeremy allen white #i hope you guys like this!!!#tried really hard with this new style

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strangersatellites · 1 year

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pride, envy, sloth, gluttony, greed, lust, ao3

Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)

wrath (noun): uncontrolled feelings of anger, rage, and even hatred. wrath often reveals itself in the wish to seek vengeance. in its purest form, wrath presents with injury, violence, and hate

cw: rough sex, unhealthy relationships, blood, unsafe sex, choking, slapping, dacryphilia, angst (????) on accident, probably more tbh they genuinely fucking hate each other in this universe

This thing they’d had going on for three months now really had started off fun.

It started out soft and sweet. Stolen kisses in the back of The Hideout, quick, messy blowjobs in the backseat of Steve’s car, booty calls late at night when one or the other couldn’t sleep.

He can’t really identify what went wrong or when. All Steve knows is that the butterflies that he used to get when Eddie came around have turned and twisted into something sharp and heavy. Now when they’re within earshot of each other it's all biting insults and low-blows.

Somewhere along the line, the happiness that Eddie planted in his heart morphed into bitter resentment. But Steve’s nothing if not self-sacrificial, and the sex was too good to give up. Who is he to deny himself of the only good thing Eddie has left to offer him? So now he finds himself shoved into bar bathrooms and left high and dry, bruises mottled up and down his chest and dark bags under his eyes from a fitful sleep. Somehow he’s convinced himself it's better than nothing.

On nights where he can’t shake the memory of Eddie’s lips on his and his heart fluttering pretty and soft, he goes out.

He goes out to a seedy club and he finds someone that he won’t remember the name of in the morning and he tries anything to clear his mind. Nothing’s ever as good.

Tonight he’s found himself a few beers deep and tracing water stains on the bar top at some place he’s never been just outside of town. He’d spent the last ten minutes or so talking to a guy that looked like he’d show him a good enough time. Dark, curly hair cut so that it flopped down into his face, pretty blue eyes that went a shade darker when they looked Steve over, and a shirt cut low enough that Steve could see ink swirl across his collarbones in vines and leaves.

Steve thinks his name is Adam, but he wasn’t really listening and still really isn’t. He’s found that a few soft laughs and hums while guys talk is usually enough to feign interest long enough to coax them to a bathroom.

This guy, Adam maybe, is about two seconds away from dragging him there himself, he can tell. It’s written all over his body language. Steve smiles his prettiest smile and flutters his eyelashes.

But as soon as he opens his mouth to purr something like “Do you want to get out of here?” There are strong arms snaking around his waist and teeth scraping at his throat and Steve’s blood runs hot in an instant. He’s well-accustomed to it no longer being a good sensation.

Steve shoves his elbow back with as much force as he can muster and it all goes red before he even hears his chuckle.

“Strike out again, Harrington? I made it just in time then, huh sweetheart,” Eddie coos in a tone dripping with condescension.

He’s on his feet and shoving at Eddie’s chest with enough force he knows it’ll bruise, sees it knock the wind out of him a bit. Gets right up in his face and would do anything to rip that self-satisfied smirk right off of it.

“You miserable fucking prick,” he spits, uncaring of the way Eddie flinches back the tiniest bit. “I was not striking out, and I never am! And yet here you come acting like you’re saving some damsel in distress when it’s you crawling back to me. Every. Single. Time,” he punctuates with jabs to his chest.

Eddie’s smile doesn’t leave as he huffs a laugh. His tongue swipes across sharp, sharp teeth and he leers at Steve with narrowed eyes. Predatory in a way Steve liked once upon a time but now makes him want to punch out his teeth. He’s got his hands in his pockets and he looks entirely too comfortable with the fact that he just ruined Steve’s night. Again.

“God, sweetheart. You’re so wound up,” he whispers, face pinching up in faux concern. He brings his hands up to smooth down Steve’s biceps and digs his fingers in tight enough that he doesn’t budge with Steve’s attempts at shaking him off. “Tell me. When was the last time someone fucked you good enough that you remembered his name the next morning, now be honest.” He leans in close and that smirk is back and Steve hates it. “You can say it was me, honey. It’ll be our little secret.”

And Steve’s seeing red again because he’s right.

It was him. It’s always him and probably always will be.

He gets back up in his space once more and makes sure he’s looking at his eyes when he whispers a sharp “Fuck. You.”

And it's only for a split second but he swears he sees hurt flash through brown eyes. Gone in an instant and replaced with a real, raw indifference that Steve thinks might be worse.

He feels a hand at the back of his neck and Eddie’s lips brush his ear.

“Yours or mine?”

And it was always going to go like this. Steve’s not under any illusions. Knew this time wouldn’t be different. But it still stings the way that he knows in an alternate universe that question might’ve been accompanied with giggles and a kiss.

But then he remembers the way that Eddie looked so proud when Steve first said he hated him and the rage is back ten-fold.

He turns on his heel and knows he’s being followed.

“Yours. Don’t want you in my fucking house.”

*****

Steve’s got Eddie’s wrists pinned to the wall above his head and his teeth raking down his neck. Wants to leave a mark. A memory.

He hears Eddie gasp as Steve’s hips shove hard against his own and he shoves harder in retaliation.

“Remember when you used to kiss me?” Steve asks, Eddie’s breath against his face enough to pull some bricks from the walls he’s spent months building.

He feels more than hears Eddie’s hum. Feels his knee come up to shove him backwards until he’s the one pressed against the wall, face turned sideways and arms pinned behind his back.

“Yeah sweetheart.” He leans in to bite at Steve’s ear and make him hiss.

Steve’s grinning, ugly and mean when he grits out “Worst decision of my fucking life.”

But now Eddie’s the one smirking, he can hear it when he speaks. “Mine too. Liked my life a lot better when I didn’t know what you taste like.”

Steve aims for the shin when he bucks a foot backwards, nails it if Eddie’s grunt is anything to go by. He spins around and shoves at Eddie hard enough to send them both to the floor, grateful for a second the fact that his muscle mass makes it easy to manhandle his way into what he wants.

He laughs, loud and fake. “Now see, that I just don’t believe, Eddie.” He’s got his eyebrows raised high and pout on his lips and he knows what’s coming and he relaxes into it.

And yeah maybe Steve’s strong, but Eddie knows him. Knows when his guard is down. He gets his knees up around Steve’s hips and flips them over, Steve’s back against the ground and there’s the fury Steve’s been after. Been trying to bring it out all night.

Eddie’s got a ringed hand pressed tight against Steve’s throat when he finally lets himself feel. Feel good the way only Eddie can make him. Lets the fight drain out of him as his vision goes spotty. Eddie’s spitting words in his face, “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” and saliva into his mouth and it’s so bad-good.

His next breath is heaving as he comes back down and Eddie’s already standing and walking away.

“Get up. I don’t have all night.”

And now that he’s got Eddie mad, got him fired up, he knows he can let himself go. Lets himself fall even though he knows Eddie’s not going to catch him. Thinks it's worth it until it's not. Until tomorrow when he remembers the way he and Eddie won’t look at each other when their friends are around. They way they don’t talk.

Because this is how it's always going to go. He’s going to let Eddie rile him up, make his sharp, heavy butterflies flutter out in words he thinks he doesn’t really mean. He’s going to push and push and push until Eddie breaks. And even though he started it, Eddie always will. Break, that is. He’ll break out of his self-assured, indifferent asshole persona and he’ll turn into something real and mean. Someone that hates Steve back.

Steve thinks it shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

There’s nothing gentle about the way Eddie stretches him open. The way he smacks the inside of Steve’s thigh hard enough it leaves a welt the shape of his hand.

He’s got two fingers inside him and Steve feels so good and he can’t help but talk. Head thrown back, words fall from his lips between desperate moans.

“Hate you so fucking much.”

A smack to his ass and a dejected huff.

“Yeah. I know you do sweetheart."

Steve groans in annoyance but his back arches all the same.

“Hate it when you call me that.”

And he’s not looking but he knows Eddie is rolling his eyes.

“I know you do, baby.”

And there’s tears pricking at the back of his eyes because sure he really does hate this man. Really does think he’d have been better off never meeting him. But all he can hear when Eddie calls him “baby” is the way he used to say it through laughter against his skin.

He knows he’s pouting but he thinks he deserves it with the bitter memories he’s fighting away. “Hate that even worse.”

Eddie pulls his fingers out and crawls up his body to squeeze at his cheeks until he fishmouths.

“I know. Now shut up and stop crying. You wanted me mean and you’ve fucking got it baby.”

Steve gasps high in his throat when Eddie grabs him by his hips and flips him onto his belly and something about this flavor of anger Eddie’s wearing sets Steve off again. But this time his anger isn’t a facade. It's raw and real and it's hurt that got brushed aside and became something else entirely.

“Hate what we could’ve been. Hate that I hate you.” He says into a pillow.

He hears Eddie groan and not in a good way. In the way he does when he’s annoyed. He feels his weight lay over his back and his hand on the inside of his thigh yanking upward and open.

“Well I hate that you don’t know when to stop talking." He grits out and the pressure as he presses inside Steve is enough to make him white out.

By the time he builds up a bruising rhythm, punching Steve’s breath out of him on every thrust, he’s talking again.

“Could’ve given you everything you wanted sweetheart,” and his tone is so patronizing, “But it just wasn’t fucking enough was it?”

And Steve’s barely holding on to his consciousness through the pressure deep in his guts and the hand pressing the back of his neck down, down, down. But he’s still got enough wherewithal that that strikes a chord.

Because no, having Eddie behind closed doors wasn’t enough. And Eddie knows that. He knows how that hurt him and chooses to use it against him anyway.

His voice is muffled into the pillow and broken up by whimpers and whines but he speaks anyway.

“Well it wasn’t my– shit, so good. Wasn’t my pride that got in the way.”

Eddie’s hips slow to a deep grind and freeze pressed to the hilt.

The hand at the back of Steve’s neck slides to the front and yanks him up on his knees, pressed against Eddie’s chest.

His chest is heaving where its plastered to Steve’s back and his voice rumbles through them both.

“Maybe not. But it was you that kept your mouth shut and made it my fault.”

Steve goes to argue but gets cut off by the sharp stinging of teeth breaking the skin against his shoulder blade. His breath goes ragged on a shriek and his vision whites out around the edges. Eddie’s shoving him back down, ass-up and face smushed sideways. His hand slips up and pries his mouth wide open and shoves in hard, stopping anything he could possibly say. Steve’s eyes are wide where he’s staring, gone glassy and wet.

“And it looks like now you don’t know how to do that, do you baby?” He asks.

And he’s got his fingers down his throat and his dick shoved deep.

There’s blood dripping from his teeth in that sharp, bitter smile. And he’s so pretty. And Steve hates him.

He chokes around his fingers on a sob as Eddie picks up his pace again.

Hates that it feels so good.

Hates that he comes back for this.

Hates that Eddie’s right.

Because maybe he can’t pinpoint when or where things went south, but he knows it has everything to do with the way he started needing more and not asking for it. Knows Eddie was letting him figure it out on his own. And instead of just going for it, he knows he started blaming.

So maybe he does hate Eddie. Hates him for the way he didn’t push him when he knew he needed it. Hates that he still uses him like this.

But he really hates himself. Because he could’ve had what he wanted but he didn’t take it.

(Hates that tomorrow he’ll forget this all again, too far in his head and in the feeling of Eddie taking what he wouldn’t give. He’ll forget it all and go back to hating him again.)

A sharp smack to the outside of his thigh brings him barreling back down into reality and it's Eddie’s words that send him hurdling into release.

“Here you fucking go again with the crying. God I hate that you’re so fucking pretty.”

Steve hates that that’s what does it for him. Hates that his crying is what does it for Eddie. Hates the way he’s filled up and will have to go home messy, the way Eddie pulls out of him and throws him his clothes.

He hears the flick of a lighter and Eddie’s heavy inhale from far away.

“I assume you can show yourself out.”

As Steve pulls his shirt over his head and wipes the tear tracks from his face he thinks “Yeah. This is why I hate him.”

And from the other side of the room Eddie thinks that if Steve would say half of the things that run through his mind with Eddie inside him, maybe they wouldn’t hate each other at all.

#seven deadly sins series #wrath #steddie #steddie fic #steddie smut #steve harrington #eddie munson #gin writes #this got way more angsty than I intended I am so sorry #they're both really awful for each other in this please be warned #this is also nearly triple the length it was supposed to be #can you tell this got away from me be honest #sponsored by gin watching shrek 2 and 3 #shameless delete and repost since the last one was up way too damn long for the interaction it got (respectfully)

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ladystardust-thinks · 10 months

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soul of a woman was created below - w.r.

pairing: Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're strong, seductive and intimidating and Warren finds that very, very, hot.

word count: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: She/Her pronouns, use of Y/N, oc's (reader's bandmates), reader being an absolute badass tease, bassist reader, there is a mention of Eddie and Warren being -not- discreet and checking the reader out, spice no smut, Karen and Eddie teasing Warren, smoking, drinking, reader feels like a good lana del rey song but looks like a hot 'I am the woman' Led Zeppelin song (hence the tittle), a lot of swearing, deeply inspired by a you can be the boss lyric, mention of reader's outfit. I think that's about it

Warren Rojas (Drummer, The Six):

That woman. [sighs] They say women 'play' hard to get, she didn't play anything. Can't do a lot when you can't manage to get a word out when you see her. [chuckles]

Eddie Roundtree (Bassist, The Six):

Of course I remember her, I heard so much about her in the time span of 2 months I think she still haunts my dreams sometimes. Warren was head over heels for sure, I think he still is. [grins] I was the reason they got together in the first place.

***

KINGS OF DUST, the next big rock 'n' roll stars?

Her fingers brushed over the fresh ink of the tabloid, as she grimaced. She felt her her ears buzz listening to James mocking the paper's columnist with a shrieking voice.

"Are those newcomers, with the big attitude and a whole lot of talent to give, going to kick The Six off their throne? Does the good old McNasties band we all know and love feel threatened? Well Billy Dunne sure doesn't as he claims that he 'isn't scared of glam posers and cheap Zeppelin copies' and the sarcastic remarks reffering to him on James Madden's Rolling Stone interview did not help his rage at all. What bullshit! Little Mr. Lover Boy thinks he can just insult us like that just because his mellow, mediocre songs, that all sound the fucking same, hit some of the charts!"

"They aren't even anything special! Their name isn't original it's like the sex or something, very shallow, and they definitely are the posers of the situation, they do it for the fame and the chicks, we do it for the music!" James whined, dragging the 'u' in 'music' and throwing the paper on the couch.

"The Six" Y/N corrected her friend and drummer. She walked over to the leather jacket she wore in last night's gig, reaching in it's pocket for her cigarettes. "And they're pretty good, well their lead is an ass, for sure, but still pretty damn good." She added, lighting one of her cigarettes with her heavy, carved, zippo.

"Whatever! I don't like them!" The drummer exclaimed like a child.

"What's with the yelling? It's 9 a.m., you fuckers." Matt came in the kitchen, his words slurred as he was still hang over from last night's events.

He grabbed a handfull of cereal and stuffed his mouth, munching noisily on it while motioning to James so he can give him the paper. "What does he mean posers, he is the poser! That motherfucker!" He yelled gulping down his cereal.

"Who does he think he is? I mean just because he's got a couple of good singles he thinks he can screw our reputation up because he is scared!?" He now screamed full of fury. "Apparently so." Y/N answers his rhetorical question, with a sarcastic smile. "Where is Dave?" he asked, she shrugged, frowning. "Oh so you can't answer that one!" He runs off to the guitarist's room and James looks at the bassist with a look that screams 'I told you so'. Y/N rolls her eyes and she can hear the tempered singer bang on Dave's door.

They come back to the kitchen together, Dave picks up a mug and fills it up with some coffee as he sits down, scratches and marks visible around his neck and back. "What?" he asks, his tone revealing his annoyance. "That." James is quick to say pushing the newspaper towards him. "Who the fuck is 'Billy Dunne'? What do you want me to do?" He exclaims with his grainy morning voice. "Y/N are not saying anything about this shit?" He turns to the girl, hoping she would help with his friend's delusions. "Sorry." She said not really feeling bad that she couldn't do anything.

"Look man. We got a gig tonight and all of us in here, except for Muffin who's got weirdly a lot of energy for 9 a.m., have a hangover so just tell me what the fuck do you want me to do?"

Muffin was what they called James, he was the youngest of the four, the softest of the four and the only one that, as you can understand, was really energetic. He also seemed like he never stopped smiling. So, Muffin.

"You know what? fuck it. I don't want you to do anything I just thought you guys would care about the dignity of our band!" Matt stormed in his room, his door made a loud bang as he kicked it closed.

***

They were just finished with the gig, the guys were partying inside the dirty bar as Y/N was outside, trying to smoke. She reached in her pocket, searching for her zippo. She exclaimed a curse, disappointed. She thought she must have forgotten it at the kitchen counter this morning. Her eyes scanned around the street for someone who she could ask for a lighter from. Her gaze paused, falling on a curly haired man not too far away from her, smoking.

"Y' think you got a light for me?" She asked looking at him, smirking. "Oh, yeah sure." The man reached for his lighter, it wasn't as perfect as her good old zippo but it would do. He leaned in to the cigarette in her mouth and covered the flame with his palm. She was looking at him straight in the eye, smiling throughout the whole process. She could feel him leaving a shaky breath as he moved away from her. "Thanks pretty boy..." She took the cigarette out of her mouth, allowing the smoke to be visible through her mouth and nose. "Anything for a pretty girl..." He complimented her back. She turned her back to him, walking back in the bar and winking at him over her shoulder. He shook his head with a chuckle "Oh c'mon man..." he said quietly, putting off his own ciggarete. He also ran back inside the bar.

***

"I'm telling you man, out of this fucking world! She's got those huge sudective eyes and she knows how to bat her eyelashes just the way to scratch my brain in all the right places for sure, because if she asked me to jump off a cliff, I'd do it. And I mean, I didn't wanna make it sexual but dude if she screams sex-appeal.

I wanna see her smirk like that on top of me the next time I see her."

Warren describes the woman to Eddie who thinks his friend is just overreacting. "Alright then where is she?" He asks the drummer. "Huh?" He says, distracted looking for her around the bar. "Where is she? You said she came back in here."

Warren grabbed Eddie's arm, when he finally spotted her, extending his pointer finger and lining it towards the young woman's position. "There..." Warren whispers, thrilled to see her dreamy face again. His eyes fall to her attire, which wasn't visible before, as it was hidden behind her large leather jacket. Her denim butterfly top, tied around her neck and revealed her bare back. Her low waist bell-bottom jeans were wide towards her knees and tighter higher, towards her waist, giving Warren a great view of her thighs and the red stars on the back of her pants.

"Boys!" Two fingers snapped right in front of their faces. Eddie woke up from his haze to see Karen, her arms crossed like a disappointed mother. "Would you like a tissue?" The woman asked the only person who had his interest on her as Warren was still concentrating on the beautiful mystery woman before him with his mouth agape.

"What?" Eddie asked Karen. His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "To wipe the drool of your faces...f' God's sake." She sighed leaving the two men alone again.

Eddie hit Warren in the back of his head. "C'mon wake up." he said. "Huh? I'm awake." Warren moaned, scratching the back of his head in pain. "No. No. You were basically sleeping with your eyes open."

"She hypnotized you. She is a witch." he says, with so much confidence, one would expect he doesn't hear his own words. "What? No she's not you idiot." Warren disagrees as he laughs at his friend's assumption.

***

"Matt, Y/N! Darlings! Come with me! I've got someone for you to meet."

Their friend Steve said dragging them to the booth where the one and only Billy Dunne sitted with his brother and his keyboardist.

Y/N wasn't very happy about the whole situation. She had two irritable singers that had a problem with each other on the same table. The guitarist and the keyboardist whose names she learned were Karen and Graham had snuck off to do god knows what and she was left bored out of her mind while Billy and Matt talked business.

Until sooner or later she saw her saviour on a white horse, he was gonna save her of absolute, boredom. He was with this other guy too, but that's besides point. The curly haired man from earlier. He was approaching the table. It was her chance to have some fun, all she did all night was hold Matt down so he wouldn't kill Billy.

Y/N Y/L/N-Rojas (Bassist, 'Kings of Dust'):

I'm glad he made a move that day. It was a fun night... [laughs]

Warren:

Yeah, right. [scoffs]

If it weren't for Eddie I'd still be in the bathroom of that bar having a full on panic attack.

But she doesn't need to know that.

Y/N Y/L/N-Rojas:

Of course I knew...but I had fun with it. You don't have such man on his knees for you, holding his broken ego, every day. Well I did but you get what I mean.

And she just seated there. Her legs crossed, looking like a good action movie soundtrack. She made him go crazy and she knew it. She was enjoying it.

Eddie took the spot next to Matt on the booth before Warren could, leaving him sit on the other end, next to her. She let the smoke of her cigarette out, looking over at him with a smirk.

"Hey, lighter buddy." She said slowly, a smile growing on her face, he was staring at the way her lips moved softly the whole time, thinking how rough they could be on his, imagining the colour of her lipstick all over him.

"Hey...I see, you found a lighter though." He says, nervous, you'd think someone was pulling the words out of his throat forcefully. "Yeah.." She smiled.

"I was stupid, really, it was just on the table I was sitting before."

With four people on the small couch booth they were really physically close and that killed Warren. Smelling the smoke and liqour on her, he thought he'd die any second now. Somebody had to pinch him before he could get used to this dream.

Her heel stroked his leg under his wide pair of jeans and she really thought she heard him gulp. She suddenly got right off of him. Leaving him confused when she reached for her cigarettes on the table. "I think I'll get out of here." She said now grabbing a cigarette out of the mat, black, leather cigarette case. She extended it over to him and looked at him."I have cigs, thank you." he said looking between her and the item in her hand. She bends over to him. "Well you don't have this one. Do what you want with it, your choice." He could feel her breath on his neck as she spoke while she carefully placed the slim filter on his lips.

They where lightly parted as he admired her. She tapped on his cheek twice with the palm of her hand then grabbed her jacket and left as soon as the conversation between the two singers got heated.

Warren looked up, the cigarette still in his mouth as he whispered "Fuck." He took it in his hands, coming out of the daze she put him in, there was a number of it. He looked at the number on the white paper of the Malboro. He shook his head, putting the cig back on his lips and leaving the bar. He had to go home and call her.

Eddie watched him as he speeded out the door and chuckled.

Eddie: Especially after the band, Warren was a ladies man. Always flirty, always witty, so much you'd think it was just his regular attitude. He was never nervous around women before so it was really amusing getting to see the situation.

Warren sat on the balcony of the band's house in Canyon, rolling the cigarette around his hands, fidgeting.

Eventually he got inside the house getting the phone and balancing the receiver between his head and shoulder while he pressed the number in.

The buzzing sound of the phone filled his ears as he lighted the cigarette and took a puff of it. "Hello?" he heard her voice ring through the telephone. His eyes widened, not expecting her to pick up. He took the cigarette out his mouth as soon as he heard her.

"Uh, Hey! Hi. I'm Warren." He said squeezing his eyes shut once he realized she doesn't know his name because he never told her. "Oh, Warren. From the bar right? Dunne's drummer." She said and giggled.

He was shocked she knew his name. She managed to learn everything about him in a single night and they hardly even talked. "Yup, thats me. Uh, you gave me your number. So I just thought I'd-" He was interrupted by the woman. "You thought right...So, got any other plans for tonight?" She asked and he believed she was joking. She had to be. He thought. There is no way she fell for his stuttering and his anxious antics. "I... never got the chance to catch your name." He breathed out, waiting to hear it.

"Y/N. I play bass for Kings Of Dust."

***

Her outfit hadn't changed since the last time he saw her.

Her eyeliner smudged under her eyes and her vibrant lipstick was now slightly faded. It was admirable, how you could never catch her looking down, she'd walk in a place she hadn't ever been before like she owned it, her chin always high and she always looked around, not in amusement, more like she was taking the place in.

She saluted him and sitted in the barstool next to his.

The bar was quiet in comparison to the one they were before with all their friends.

His mind wandered having all the thoughts it shouldn't.

Billy would probably kill him but it's worth it.

Any feedback, is good feedback!! I wanna read your thoughts. Have a gorgeous day. Mwah!

-Shad

#daisy jones and the six #warren rojas x reader #djats #warren rhodes x reader #warren rojas #eddie roundtree #warren rojas x fem!reader #warren rojas x bassist!reader #edit: If you're reading this you're the chosen one #bonus scene i just thought of #later smut: warren holding reader with his hands under her thighs (cuz he is a leg guy and a bimbo) and pushing her #sticking her on a wall #or a door #preferably door #idk thats just the vision #there's this voices in my head telling me I should probably go to sleep and these voices telling me i should probably write shameless smut #specifically for Warren #really cant stand those voices #sometimes they fight and stuff and it's really tiring.#should i write a lazy fluffy morning fic w karen??#I have a request for Karen #i love her sm #physically hurts my heart.#pacifically for warren (if you're an agggtm fan u get it)#idk that just came into my head.#bc i saw the word specific

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miss-celestia13 · 7 months

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For Fun! Scottish Smut 😌

I wrote this ages ago as a joke for my friends, a smut scene written in Scottish slang! After all, all Scottish people are bilingual 🤣 I just discovered it in my notes as I was cleaning them out and thought I’d share it here for the laugh. I hope it makes you chuckle because it won’t set your knickers on fire 😂

Without further ado;

Jimmy and Senga’s mad night oot!

Words: 585

What some words mean:

Swalleys - swallows

Boattle - Bottle

Stoatin - stumbling

Spunked - Cummed

Tadger - Cock

Pump - Fuck/Sex/shag - rumpy-pumpy means the same thing!

Fanny - Cunt

Bean - Clit

I just had a full body cringe typing that last one, so you can figure the rest out or ask me if you get confused🤣

They wur passin the boattle ae Bucky between thum. Takin huge swalleys as they walked hame fae the pub. Stoatin’ aboot like a clumsy gazelle oan her primark special high heels, Senga wiz clingin’ tae Jimmys arm while he grabbed hur arse, and whispered sweet nuttins in hur ear.

“Jist you wait tae we git hame, doll. I’m gonnae pump you rotten.”

He always kent jist whit to say to make her knickers wet. No that she wiz wearing any. He’d gied her a gid wee finger poking in the pub loo’s jist afore they wur kicked oot for arguin way the barman when he widnae serve thum anymare vodka ridbulls. She’d loast thum somewhere ‘atween the mens loos and the bar. Stumblin upti the frunt door, Jimmy drapped hur keys twice afore he managed tae unlock it and dragged hur in.

He hud hur shoved against the door afore she kent what wiz happenin. Jimmy gied hur the sloppiest kiss ar hur life, tastin like drink, and regret as he forced his tongue doon hur throat. The hawf empty boattle ae Buckfast clattured tae the flair as he shoved a haund up her skurt and poked aboot until he foond her bean and gied it a wee flick so she jumped.

“Cannae wait any longer, doll.” He said, breath soaked in Bucky.

“Dinnae then, i wanted yeh tae shag me back at the pub.” She replied as he hiked hur skurt oer hur hips and pulled his hard tadger oot ae his best trackie bottoms.

She wiz soon oan hur knees in the hallway, Jimmy grabbed haud ae hur hips afore he pushed inside her wet fanny, sayin’ filthy hings as she shouted in surprise.

“Yer jist a wee durty. Ye’ll no be able tae walk the morra.”

Usually, when it came tae the auld rumpy-pumpy, Jimmy wiz a two-pump-chump in bed, bit when he hud a drink in him, he lasted at least ten and she’d only coonted two so far.

“Shut yer moof and dae it then.” She said and yelped when he smacked her arse and thrust harder.

Jimmy laughed as she pushed back tae make him go fastur and called him a useless basturt when he slowed right doon insteid.

“Calm doon wuman, a ken whit am dain!”

He did and he didnae. She’d coonted seven thrusts noo, and kent he didnae hae much left in him, so she took maetturs intae hur ain haunds and balanced oan wan elbay so she could fiddle wae hur bean. Jimmy was gruntin and groanin, sweaty haunds slidin oer hur arse as he loast all sense ae rhythm. A flew flicks and she wiz almost there, fingurs moving so quick as Jimmy pounded intae her fanny once, twice, and she felt her fanny flutter aroond his tadger jist afore he spunked in her.

There wiznae fireworks or stars when she came. No wae Jimmy, bit it felt gid and her boady wiz fizzing fae the drink and orgasm. Jimmy fell oan tap ae hur and crushed her intae the carpet. She wiznae comfy, but couldnae be arsed movin noo. And so Jimmy and Sengas mad night oot ended wae them both passed oot in hur hallway. Senga couldnae mind if he’d locked the door. Ah well, any cunt that tried to burgul thum wid be in fur a shoack when they foond thum bare arsed and covered in spunk. The thoat sent hur tae sleep wae a grin oan her face.

……………*

Oh, fuck me gently 🤣 I forgot how bad it is and I’m crying laughing that I’m posting it here 😂 hope it made you giggle or smile, at the least 🤭❤️

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faroreskiss · 5 months

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How many times did we support each other? (+18)

Read on Ao3

This is my attempt at writing smut without a proper plot, with a slight plot twist… Palate cleanser as 2024's first post! Every time I try writing smut, I end up writing a 5 million words backstory, so let's see where this try takes me! It is not your usual ZeLink I guess, Also a secret pairing. ENJOY!

TW: Kind of morally ambigious. No judgement but the dynamic could be disturbing for a few. MINORS DNI! Shameless smut.

(Beta read inc by the lovely @beyondtheglowingstars)

Thank you Nova and @xxbuttercup for helping me feed this idea into reality!

“Yeah… yeah keep doing that… Fuck…” she whispered, almost hissed through her half parted lips. They were both upright on the living room floor and on their knees. Zelda was in front of Link, pressed onto him, with her legs curved as he squeezed with his right hand and held her firm from her breast.

What did Zelda mean? Of course, she just wanted him to keep using his left hand. She wanted him to keep rubbing her as he kept thrusting from behind. She wanted him to continue pinching her nipples. Link knew she loved it. Her mewls while pressed onto his body just felt like the sweetest symphony.

He loved touching her swollen clit, pinching her right nipple, having his mouth on and trailing it over her exposed neck. He could feel her tightening around him as a response to whatever he was doing, and how much she liked it. She could feel him getting even harder and twitching in her whenever her oh-so-decent-princessly-mouth uttered a profanity. He could feel her breath quickening and her whimpers when he closed his mouth on her earlobe, gently nibbling.

Well… At this point, every subtle motion had its meaning between them. During - nay, especially during these particularly heated moments. There was no shame between them anymore. Things just happened, as if they were already meant to be.

Practice makes perfect after all.

“...Ah..Zel…” Link moaned silently, sending a gentle vibration to Zelda from his mouth on her neck from behind. His ruts were becoming more frantic. Their bodies were getting sweaty, making all kinds of sloppy sounds between his chest and her back. He could feel her … fluffier inside, so swollen, massaging him in a rhythm to coax an orgasm in a way he can't resist.

Zelda also was not going to be able to hold out much longer, and he knew. He knew exactly what to do. Oh how she adored it. Letting go, just feeling safe within the sea of pleasure.

“Good girl… “ he whispered in his sultry yet slightly high baritone. He was trying hard not to show how close he is himself, but knew Zelda noticed everything as he did. Just like how he noticed her breath hitch when he said between his pantings “Be a good girl and come for me, will you?”

He continued whispering sweet nothings to her ear, as he kept making sweet circles on her clit with his middle finger, coated with their wetness. Zelda was digging her nails to his outer thighs, trying to get the support she desperately needed to stay in one piece without collapsing from the waves of pleasure that were about to hit her.

One of her arms snaked around his neck, pulling on his low ponytail as she also kept riding him, feeling him fight against her. Making a groan escape his lips. She shivered.

When everything finally came undone, and practically synced at this point, Link caught her and squeezed her close to his body so she wouldn’t fall face down, as he filled her warm and swollen insides up. After spending a few more moments him hugging her and calming down, since that was their favorite part, just him staying in her a bit more. He finally slipped out of her in a “plop” (Thank Hylia for Chu-condoms!).

They slowly lowered down on their back to the floor, still breathing quick and heavy. Taking a few more minutes to calm down, Link put his head gently on Zelda’s chest, Zelda making circles with her fingers on his scalp.

Gradually Zelda rose, taking her clothes from the floor, mumbling “Gonna go take a quick bath,” to which Link simply nodded. She knew where everything was anyway.

______

How many times did they do this? None of them knew. It wasn’t always this perfect, it took a lot of communication and most importantly, lots of practical application.

______

After they both cleaned up and dressed up, they went out from Link’s cozy cabin near the LonLon Ranch to meet with the rest of their friends in Castle Town. Zelda still had to dress up like a commoner so people wouldn’t be able to tell. Luckily, her father was still more involved in governmental matters and she still had some breathing room, which she used to socialize. In various ways.

They met up with Malon, who was the girl from LonLon Ranch, Link met her when they were kids and introduced her to Zelda. And also the twins Mido & Saria, with whom Link always had a bitter smile whenever he heard their names mentioned. Apparently he had a few childhood friends that had the same name.

They were having a few drinks at Yan’s bar in the Back Alley, having a good time. Link was particularly nervous this evening, giving escaping glances to the red haired gal sitting across him, his cheeks red with the ale hitting him.

After Saria and Mido left, Malon excused herself for a little bathroom break. Slightly tipsy Zelda poked Link with her elbow.

“So, when are you gonna tell her?” she giggled like a schoolgirl, slightly slurring her words.

“Zelda, come on…” Of course, it was Zelda when they were out with friends, and Princess Zelda, your royal highness when they were in front of her father.

“You see how Malon looks at you, right? Come on, have some courage!” Zelda practically beamed. Not a hint of jealousy, no envy.

“I mean… “ he took a deep breath. “Maybe I should catch her on her way back to the table?”

“Attaboy!” Zelda approved.

Link slowly tried to get up, but then was kind of violently made to sit down by Zelda, pulling the hem of his tunic down to make him sit down again.

“Silly, come here. Let’s fix you up a bit. You are a mess fairy boy.”

Link just sighed and let her adjust his tunic and hair under his hat, paying particular attention to the area of his collar. Silently checking him.

Link understood.

“It’s fine,” he said as he awkwardly chuckled.

“Good,” Zelda nodded as her smile spread to her face.

______

How many times did they do this? None of them knew. It wasn’t always this perfect, it took a lot of communication and most importantly, lots of practical application.

But isn’t that always the case with friends? Communicate, resolve things, be supportive, physically or otherwise?

Were they friends with benefits? Absolutely not. Friends with benefits are complicated.

Zelda and Link were friends. Friends only.

Link was there for her any time she needed help, Zelda was there for him whenever she was needed. In any capacity.

Despite all that communication however, this topic never came up.

And did it not make it ever more delicious?

One day they would have to talk about it. But then, wouldn’t it make it all the more bleak?

Link chuckled to himself as he thought once again, though some doubts still plagued his mind, ale made it not that much of a big deal. He started talking to Malon.

Zelda licked her lips, as he took another sip from her ale, glancing out from the window, watching Link confess his feelings to the red head.

_____

So is this technically a MaLink fic? Who knows.

For more information regarding contraception in Zelda Universe, clicky clicky!

#zelda fandom #legend of zelda #zelda fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #zelink #zelink but is it really #no beta we die like tav who lets astarion suck their blood to death #smut #shameless smut #lemon #lime #oot zelda #quite morally ambigious #ponytail

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pentuppen · 27 days

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The Red Right Hand [Rugan & OC] [Explicit]

Chapter 6 : Whiskey Red

I no place this chapter lovingly into your hands, all wrapped up with a bow and everything....

Yvie barely got a few steps in before a finger hooked into the back of her belt, pulling her back against the door as he closed it and positioned himself to loom over her again. Looking up at his vulpine smirk she wanted to wipe it off his face in various ways, though smothering it with her mouth was winning amongst several options. The height difference might have been funny if it weren't for all the potential in those arms and his body in general.

“Should I maybe get you a stool to stand on?”

Ok so slapping that widening smirk of his face might be pulling up neck and neck with kissing him, but in the end she settled for snatching up his squared jaw and bringing him down to her level. She tried to go slowly, to savour it, but the moment he opened up her mouth with his and she inhaled the scent of whiskey and wood smoke, it was like a switch had gone off in her head. She’d had a few memorable kisses in her lifetime, but Rugan kissed her like he’d been starving for it, feasting on her lips and tongue until she had no choice but to retaliate in kind.

#rugan #rugan / oc #bg3 rugan #rugan fuckers unite #shameless smut #zhentarim #prone #somewhat rough #Taverns have REALLY thin walls you two!!

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theodoradevlin · 1 year

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Exercises of Control [Or the Lack Thereof]

SUMMARY: Theo drags Sebastian on an early morning run to keep them in shape for their poacher hunting hobbies..but let's just say Seb doesn't let them get too far. Let's also just say it's possible that Seb's an ass man and I am a feral gremlin for writing this.

Short, just for fun, only smut no plot this time (weird for me - but let's give it a go).

Yeah uh..Probably gonna go for a run myself after this.

TW: 18+, Blowjob, Sex, less innuendos and more all around feral-ness

“Fuck.”

Sebastian was dying.

Or at least…. he thought he was. He was currently leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees as his chest heaved, shirt long discarded, moisture glistening down his torso, his sweat slicked curls now damp against his face. Theo wasn’t far behind him, as she sprinted up, equally out of breath and holding her hands above her head willing air into her lungs.

“Fuck is right-“ she panted, “I forgot how bloody torturous the hills were on this side of the grounds.” She sauntered over to him, patting him on on the back as his hands were still braced on his knees.

“We’re not done yet Sallow…still have another mile and a half before we finish the trail. Come on. You can do it….I’ve seen how fast you run from spiders.”

His head whipped back up to her smug grin, giving her a warning glare as he wiped sweat from his brows. “You better watch that mouth Devlin, before I do something with it…” He said with a devilish grin, through his breath.

Damn woman.

She was going to kill him if this run didn’t.

She raised her eyebrow, wishing he would. “Mm…so testy. Guess you’d have to keep up with me first to do that though, wouldn’t you?”

She threw him a wink before she launched into another jog as Sebastian groaned, following her in pursuit. Or rather..following the gratuitous view of her toned body in the form fitting clothes. Those countless nights running after poachers had really given her the most delicious ..asset he’d ever seen. He swallowed.

Even while he was stripped down to his training trousers, her outfit was too damn distracting. The leather britches she usually wore with a tunic were now just paired with a tight camisole that eventuated each curve of her hips down to her thighs, and it had tortured him the whole run here.

The turbulent spring weather had finally given way to the warmth of summer quickly approaching, and this morning seemed to be an especially hot one. But no matter, Theo had asked for a training partner, and he wasn’t about to say no. Even though she did have to drag him reluctantly out of their makeshift bed in the room of requirement this morning….the things he’d do to get her back in that bed right now were…unspeakable.

They continued on for another few paces, with nothing but their breaths filling the air as they maneuvered through the roots of the trees bordering the trail along the lake they were jogging through.

"Out of all the seasons of these highlands… I still wonder.. how it even manages to get this hot here…” Theo breathed in front of him, sweating in the unusual mugginess.

Before Sebastian could respond, she was lifting the camisole to reveal much more underneath...or more accurately ...much less..The simple breast band she wore was now the only article of clothing that clung to her skin.

Her muscles moved as she ran, and he drank the movements in. He noticed the way that band was soaked in sweat, easily capturing every movement of her curves underneath the thin layer of fabric. His eyes narrowed in hungrily.

Fuck indeed. He sped up just a bit.

She slowed down slightly, seeing her fatigue, he picked up the pace again, placing a gentle palm on her lower back to encourage her.

“Come on now, Devlin -better speed up before I make good on that threat. Race you to the next clearing?” He challenged as he gave her another wicked grin, sprinting ahead of her.

Theo gave a determined look, pushing herself faster to catch him. Both of them had their hands and hearts pumping, practically crashing into the tree at the end of their destination, Theo beating him by a hair.

“Well …” She gasped..”There you have it…gonna…have to do better that that Sallow. You’ll never be able to…. keep up with me.”

Although he was short of breath, he stumbled over to her his face flushed and lips wet, from sweat or something else she didn’t know.

“Yeah…? As if you don’t know I have a tough enough time keeping up with you already…” He panted, his face breaking out into a grin as he leaned closer to her. He’d nearly had enough of that damn ass torturing him. He needed his hands on it. His hands reached around her off a sudden, grabbing her and pulling her body towards him... getting a handful, as he did, a smirk drawing at her small noise of surprise.

“…I’ll chase you all over the damn highlands if that’s what you want, Devlin..” He held her still, as he murmured the words playfully.

She blinked at his sudden hunger, not denying that it made her heart stutter for just a second. And not just because of the workout. She raised her eyebrow coyly, practically purring as she arched into his chest, their bodies slick and hot “…Is that so?”

Their breaths mingled momentarily, his hot and heavy as it fanned across her face.

“Undoubtedly.” He leaned into her touch, his eyes trailing down her heaving chest, admiring the clinging of the fabric to her toned body. “…Fancy to work up more of a sweat, then? Seeing as you’ve already gotten me all hot and bothered….”

She watched that fox grin deepen, his eyes fixed on her lips. Damn. That look of his… she knew the last half mile or so was surely about to be forgotten.

“Depends. What kind of exercise are you so eager to add here, Sallow? Certainly not one of controlling those hands....” Her lips twisted in a coy grin as he continued his appreciation of her, running his hands alongside her thighs just as her hands starting to trail up his freckled chest, glistening with the sweat they had just worked up.

He shivered, despite the heat, at that slight touch of her nails raking across his already sensitive skin. So, he grabbed her again, using his firmer grip on her backside to haul her up against him, finding her legs already were trembling slightly from the excursion they had just finished.

“No...certainly not that.” His responded, his voice low as he led them to a tree, bracing her against it. "Maybe something to help stretch these sore muscles..." He murmured as he started planting kisses against her neck, licking up the sweat that still lingered there, slowly lifting and stretching her hands above her.

Her already tired muscles all of a sudden felt that much weaker, despite his stretching. She tilted her head back to allow his wandering tongue further access.

His eyes sparked in amusement at her submissive movement. “You like that then?” He continued to move his mouth in taunting nipping at the base of her throat. Gods she tasted good.

She couldn’t help it, her eyes closed as her grin widened in satisfaction, nodding. “I like it..’ She nuzzled him with her nose, her hands captive, grabbing his lower lip and sucking sweetly as he turned. Her eventual release was almost merciful as her eyes challenged him. “Not sure what else I like though….why don’t you keep trying things until we find out?”

His response was guttural, his tongue immediately snaking in to find hers, rolling it against his own and running it alongside her teeth….both of their breaths steadily increasing again.

“I’d love that,” he murmured as he slowly dragged down that damn piece of torturous fabric, until his palms met that supple skin that had been concealed underneath. He dragged a thumb across her nipple as it immediately hardened at his touch. He gave her a quick smile.

“Always so responsive…”

“Mm…” She murmured, arching further into his touch. He teased her until he was fully standing attention himself at the sight of her, the heat only growing between their sweaty bodies.

“How’s that..?” He ground out, dipping his head to give a light flick of his tongue agains her peak.

She was started to squirm under that mouth working on her breast, and the broad hands effectively holding her in place. She needed to find some leverage or else she was barely going to last.

“Not bad….but I don’t see why this has to be a one way street….” She wriggled out of his grasp. He watched her with displeased confusion, but then in interest again, his eyebrows shooting up as she pushed him against the tree.

She didn’t waste any time. Her kisses and bites claimed his throat immediately, drawing more sounds of appreciation from him and the press of him hardening even more so at her thigh. She nipped at the hollow above his collar bone as his hands twisted in her pony tail, wrapping those red locks around his hand like a damn rope.

“So how about that? Getting colder? Warmer?” She murmured as her tongue dragged lower down.

His hands twisted harder as he let out a breathy moan. “Definitely getting warmer…very, very warm. But ….keep..keep going..please” It was his turn to become undone as his breath got heavier and his eyes rolled back, fluttering close as her mouth pressed against his hipbone now. She had always thought the V that had accentuated that toned abdomen was always delicious, and she had no quarries about paying attention to it each and every time she could.

“Mmm..” Her throaty sound of satisfaction rumbled from her throat as she pressed further against him. She continued those dangerous kisses as her hands brought him closer, pressing into his waist, guiding those trousers just a little further down.

“How about now, Sallow? Warm? Hot? Cold? Is south the direction I should head in….?”

His head tilted back at the feel of those plush lips, as all of a sudden as she had worked those pants off of him, her hands around his cock and a playful drag of her tongue enveloping him suddenly. “Fuck, Devlin.” He groaned. “Hot. Fucking Hot. Definitely. Hot.” He mindlessly breathed, the words rushing out together as her tongue continued it’s devious attention up, down and around his throbbing member.

She liked working him up into a frenzy - it was nice to turn the tables. She’d have to make him go on runs more often…she vaguely noted as his breaths got heavier above her.

She was done teasing as her lips lowered themselves around his cock, sucking gently before rolling her tongue along his twitching head, sucking up the bead of moisture dripping delectably off his tip. She continued to work him up, until her nails were digging into his thighs, and his were moving her in needy motions against him, as he got harder….It was getting more difficult to keep her mouth around him. The little gasps she was letting out around him had him knowing he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. She gave an accentuated and gratuitous dip of her head, looking up at him as she had him in her throat. He let out a low and strained moan at the flash of gray under that crimson hair tangled in his fist at the moment.

The way she looked at him as she had him so helplessly fucking hard in her mouth almost made him cum for her right there. But he wasn’t going to do that….not yet. Not before he got his taste, too.

“That’s it, come here—‘ He said gruffly, his hands pulling her up suddenly, despite the displeased glare she gave him for not letting her finish the job.

“Sallow-“ Her protest was cut off by the catch of her breath as he spun her around, his palm flat on her back as he bent her over to get a better view. Helplessly, her hands braced against the tree as he worked down the remaining leathers on her body that had tortured him the entire run.

Now that the damn things were out of the way, he helped himself to the part of her he’d been after all day. He leaned in, feasting on her as his hands still worked to grab her backside and hold her in place for him…his tongue tasting, and licking hungrily before she even could comprehend what was going on.

“Sallow - fuck- merlin -‘ The string of exclamations coming out of her mouth only encouraged him more as his tongue licked in the broadest possible way it could, relentlessly, until he felt the supple thighs he was holding onto start to tremble as well. He only moaned in satisfied response.

While she had wanted to make these workouts a habit…he didn’t know how many he could take if they always ended like this. She tasted too fucking sweet. His pleased moans continued to vibrate against her at such a delicious tempo that her knees started to give out, desperate mewls falling from her lips.

“I …I need you…now…” She gasped out, hands gripping harder into the tree for any type of grounding.

He ignored her, licking faster and reaching fingers simultaneously pressing against her bundle of nerves. He’d get her exactly what she needed… at the press of his fingers against her and his demanding tongue inside of her, her knees completely buckled as she cried out clenching with the orgasm that he had drawn out of her despite her protests.

“SEB - fuck I’m…ah..hah.” Her weak whimpers had her falling against him.

Grinning at his work, he rushed to brace her against him, gently shifting open her thighs again to make space for his aching member as it pressed into her. The touch of her soaked slit against his head had him groaning. He eased himself in, settling into her still clenching walls, that only seemed to get wetter the further he pushed inside of her.

He gave a sharp inhale at the feel of her. So fucking perfect.

Their sweat mingling with the wet mess she had become for him sent him into overdrive.

“This is what you like isn’t, Devlin? You’re so fucking wet for me, love. Working me up until I can’t help but attack every last inch of you?” He breathed erratically against her ear as his hand wrapped around her thigh, easing it wider, so he could push in at a deeper angle and have more of her. He was so impossibly deep, she swore at times she wondered if she could even hold all of him.

She was reeling. She threw her head back against him, her hand reaching up around the back of his neck, panting so hard she’d surely collapse if not for his one hand palming her breast, the other digging into her thigh as he pounded into her.. “Yes…yes…I want you always. I want you all over me. Merlin….I never want you to stop…please” She gasped out, crying at the way he filled her so deliciously. Too deliciously.

“Oh…you don’t have to worry about that..” He breathed out raggedly, “I have no plans of stopping…” His hand moved over to her front, as he started making slow and tantalizing circles with his fingers against that spot that got her to cum for him every damn time. His lips laid against the crook of her neck, teeth nibbling gently, truly making good on her request to take every inch of her. It was too much for him to control it all.

“Sallow-“ She gasped, as her hips grinded backwards into him to meet the feel of him, take him deeper, her legs continuing to spread mindlessly further apart to accommodate the increasing pace of him. She whined as he took her closer to the edge again.

“Just hold tight, darling.” His grip tightened on her waist, as his length continued it’s relentless assault within her…his own movements starting to become less and less controlled at the way she was soaked all over him. He strained as he ground his hips against her backside, his other hand holding her to him by her front. He bucked again, and again.

He’d never get tired of this. And he swore he could never get enough.

“You’re going to make me — I’m -gods-“ Her words were cut off by her strained gasp as she shuddered with pleasure again, his own strangled groans meeting hers at the sound of her undoing, the feeling of her body around him as he felt her clenching again as he was inside of her. It sent him over the edge every time.

His pace quickened with renewed purpose, riding through her orgasm, beat after beat mingling with their gasps, her breath hitching as he finally sank in and stilled, fingertips pressed deep into her skin like quotation marks, groaning as his own body found release in hers.

Later, and barely able to walk again, they continued on the path back, forgetting any further plans of running. Theo found herself rubbing her backside every now and then, a slight but pleasured wince gracing her features..

Noticing this, Seb raised a curious eyebrow.

“Sore from the run?” He asked innocently.

At that, she shot a devilish look at him.

“Don't play dumb, Sallow. More like someone was entirely a little too enamored with a certain part of my anatomy.”

His wink was infuriatingly adorable.

“I’m enamored with all of your anatomy, Devlin. But yes - certain parts of it looked too damn good to ignore today. Don’t shame me.”

Her cheeks reddened as he once again took another long, gratuitous, look at her backside.

“That’s IT, Sallow get over here—!"

She ran after him as he caught her look, attempting to flee, but not getting far before she gave him a solid smack to his own behind….a small exacting revenge at the number he’d taken on hers.

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