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swordsandholly · 2 days

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Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

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sweetblinginrose · 3 days

Text

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

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rosyblooom · 1 day

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levi's jeans | ln4 smau

PAIRING: lando norris x fem quadrant!reader SUMMARY: y/n loves levi's jeans—it's all she wears, ever. so when lando has to draw her in a quadrant video, that's what he draws: levi's jeans. a bad attempt at flirting? maybe, but it gets the ball rolling. A/N: been listening to 'levii's jeans' 24/7 since the album dropped omg

Youtube - Quadrant

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yourusername happy now??? i don't only wear levi's jeans see😌

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username the lando tag??? lmao his drawing is still on her mind💀

username no but the way I didn't even question it when he drew jeans for y/n lool username @/levis I found yall's next collab partner

landonorris Why'd you tag me in this 🤣

yourusername u drew the jeans🙄 username ...how about u guys kiss and makeup hmm?😏

username oop get u a girl that can do both iktr!!

username why do i kinda want them to date tho🧍‍♀️

username babe me too username me three 🙋‍♂️ username i've been thinking little lando has a crush👀 it was soo obvious in the yt vid

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[ caption: New Quadrant video out now!! Swipe up to watch ]

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f1gossipofficial

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f1gossipofficial After two months of being spotted together numerous times in London and Monaco, and stirring up dating rumours, Lando Norris and fellow Quadrant member Y/N L/N were recently seen off the coast of Spain, soaking up the sun and looking pretty cosy.

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landonorris Never getting sick of your levi's jeans obsession🤣 So proud of you baby, I love you ❤️👖

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3:35 ─────────ㅇ─── 4:17

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qlossytbh · 2 days

Text

𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 Spencer reacts to your new hair-do

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 fem!reader, just a lot of disgustingly sweet fluff, Spencer’s a blabbering mess, sweetheart!reader, sunshine!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.3k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i actually find this one so cute oml

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You walked the corridor, taking long strides as the sound of your heels clicked and echoed across the hall. You smiled sweetly at your fellow co-workers, as you struggled to hold the papers and books in your arms.

People around the BAU usually loved bumping into you in the morning, mainly because of how infectious your good mood seemed to be. You always walked into work with that huge smile displayed on your features, immediately infecting those around you. No one understood how someone as bright and, in a sense, pure as you could work in such a mentally demanding environment. You’d sometimes take part of seeing the crime scenes and assisted in a few of those cases, but during most of them, you’d stay around and help Garcia with certain tasks and whatnot.

You waved at one of your more familiar coworkers as you hurriedly made your way to the conference room, desperately trying to make it to the meeting where the rest of the team was waiting. A small wave of anxiety rushed through you, knowing that Gideon was bound to scold you one way or another for being late.

As you turned the corner, your body collided with someone else's, causing a few files to fly away along with two or three books, landing lightly on the ground. A small groan left your lips as you rubbed your arm, before you began to profusely apologize. "I’m sorry, I didn't—"

But to your suprise, when you motioned your gaze upward, you were welcomed with the familiar view of one of your favourite people in this whole office. "Spencer!"

You couldnt help how an increadibly wide smile splattered onto your face as you realized it had only been him whom you bumped into. You noticed however, how Spencer was just staring at you dumbly, moth slightly fallen agape, looking as if not a single thought was going through his head— which was a rare ocassion.

"Your hair—" He said barely above a whisper as he took in your face.

You furrowed your brows before dawning with realization. “Oh!”

You hand ran up to your now shoulder length hair and combed your fingertips through the ends of it with a small.

"Yeah, I felt like cutting it all off, seemed eaiser to maintain and I was aiming for it to be healthier, but I’m still getting used to it you know.." You said, leaning on your heels and looking at your friend who seemed too dozed off to be listening to anything you were saying.

And that he was. Spencer had been too busy rerunning his daily schedule in his head as he walked the halls, coincidentally, just as late as you are to the exact same meeting. He felt like an idiot for bumping into someone, cursing internally at himself, and felt even more horrified as he realized that it had been you. And to make matters worse, he had sent all your papers flying everywhere. The embarrassment he was feeling at that exact moment was uncomparable.

But every running thought stopped when he looked at at you and god. He felt like wind had been knocked directly out of his chest and suddenly his mind went blank. He stared at your now short hair, admiring how incredibly breathtaking it made you look.

The length framed your face perfectly, encentuating your cheekbones and jaw structure and from what he could see, you’d also gotten a small fringe done. Your cheeks glowed a natural pink hue while your eyes gleemed happily and Spencer couldve sworn in that instant second that you were the most beautiful thing he’d set his eyes on.

"—Spence." You cut through his thoughts, reeling him back to reality. "You in there?"

He swallowed nervously before nearly jumping to his feet just to answer and prevent you from thinking he had some sort of mental problem for staring so much. "Uh— Yeah! R-right here.."

You dipped your chin slightly as he continued to look at you, your ever persistant smile still plastered onto your features. The sudden pattering of your heart didn’t deter you from observing Spencer with a curious gaze, wondering what was going on in that big head of his. "It's short…”

He mentally slapped himself. You laughed.

"Yeah, it is actually! Didn’t really plan on it being so short, I asked them to leave it longer but the hairstylist lady didnt really listen," You chuckled to yourself, running a hand nervously through your hair. "Do you like it?"

Spencers stomach was doing all sorts of flips and turns as you gazed up at him, looking so sweet. But he couldnt seem to emit any sort of words, anything he thought of responding seemed wrong and the words he wanted to say wouldn't move past the back of his throat. His eye quickly caught a glimpse of your scattered papers.

"Shoot, uhm—“ He bent down and began collecting all of the pages together nervously. You offered him a humored smile before beinding down and helping him with all the fallen objects, shaking your head at his endearing antics.

It was always so humorous to see how collected and steady Spencer usually was, alwasy able to keep his thoughts into one straight line, aiming to get as much information out as possible, in the most cohesive way possible. He usually held himself so cautiously and carefully. His intelligence was something you loved about him.

But to see how much of a blabbering mess he’d become around you, made you think very fondly of him. How his hands would begin to fidget nervously and how his words became all twisted. Spencer always had so much in his head, but the second you came into the picture, everything vanished— except the thought of you.

Derek specifically always teased Spencer with his ‘oh so obvious’ crush, stating how he had 'no game' and if he didnt ask you out sooner he was going to do somethng about it. You were an absolute sweetheart and everyone knew you and Spencer would work perfectly.

You finished collecting your last book and stood up, sighing in relief. You took one last look at Spencer, beofre looking up at him with a glint of mischeif in your eyes. "You should be careful next time Dr. Reid,"

Spencer could feel his pulse in his neck. He opened his mouth and closed it before clearing his throat. "Yeah, I wasnt really—“

"Spence," You called, pulling him out of his thoughts before he could become a stammering mess. "I’m just teasing."

Spencer swallowed and offered you his signature side smile, wihch cuased your own to grow. You looked behind you and gestured towards the other side of the hall. “We should proabably start walking if we want to—“

"It looks really good." Spencer spat out nervously, too quick for you to catch. You tilted your head, ever so slightly and raised your brows. You hummed, not quite sure you had heard the words that left his mouth.

"Hmm?"

"Your, uh, hair—“ He prodded, pointed to your new haircut. "It looks really good— you look really good,"

Your smile grew and your eyes softened. You probably looked like a child on christmas morning. Heat rushed up to your cheeks as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear timidly, suddenly scared by the way your pulse had quickened.

"Thank Spence," Your voice was sweet as hunny and all he wanted to do was for you to continue looking at him the way you were right now. You stopped with a bit of hesitation, before welcoming him to come walk with you towards your conjoined meeting. "Walk with me?"

He nodded silently and walked by your side as you rambled about your weekend. Spencer loved talking about the things he knew, and sharing as many facts and statistics as he could, but when it came to you, all he ever wanted to do was just listen.

i may or may not have a little series in the works🤭

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wandasfifthwife · 2 days

Text

good girl ₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺

—wandanat x fem/afab!reader

༺ tw || SMUT MDNI, discussion on kinks/titles/roles (but not detailed), exhibition & choking kink mentioned, dom/sub dynamic, dom!wandanat & sub!reader, top!wandanat & bottom!reader, R gets needy from a wet dream, oral&fingering (r receiving | n giving), reader is described to be wearing a nightgown, reader is described to be shy, not proofread

༺ a/n || I’ve never personally been in a dom/sub relationship, so if I get things wrong that’s why! If you’re getting into one— don’t use this as a guide/reference

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 3.0k words₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

A buzz raps against your bedside table, the sound officially pulling you out of your morning stir. With bleary eyes, you reach across the bed to pull your phone off the charger. The movement brings you out of the warmth and comfort your sheets provide, hence making you shiver once your arm hits the cold air surrounding your room.

After pulling the phone under the covers you shut the alarm off, unlocking it to view the notifications sent since you’ve fallen asleep.

The door creeks open, whoever opening it trying to be quiet but the door’s old age didn’t allow them to do so. Your roommate peeks her head in, eyes landing on your curled position in bed.

“My word it’s freezing in here,” she starts, moving out of the doorframe to check the thermostat, “if I woke you up, I am so sorry—I was going to call maintenance to check in on your room, wanted to come see if it was still freezing.”

As if on cue you shiver again, pulling the blanket higher until it brushes your chin, “it is.”

A grim expression comes into her face, she apologizes again, “I’ll call them now. They should be here tonight.”

You voice your appreciation, staying under the sheets until the numbers on your clock read noon. It was a lazy morning, all movements were slow and relaxed. The shower was turned until steam came off the top, the burning feeling decidedly better than the chill running throughout your entire body.

There were plans written on your phone’s calendar, the moment tonight a result from the events from the previous week. There had been more plans since three first meeting at the cafe, each moment spent together better than the last. Since the cafe, they’ve met you wherever it was that you’d like.

Whether it be at a bookstore, where the two whispered reassurances over your fretting on them paying for your books. Even at times when you three had colliding schedules they still made an effort, it showed in how they took a walk with you by the water. The ocean was rough, waves crashing and pushing against another, but the sound it made was entirely peaceful. You remember where your walk ended, where you three stopped so you could watch the water stretch and collide with the orange and pink sky.

“Beautiful.”

Wanda had whispered close to your ear, body leaned so close to yours, chest pushed up against your back. You had welcomed the advances from her, letting the motion also push you into Natasha until you three were cuddled up together. It brought a smile to your face to experience such a moment. It was when you decided it was best to share the news about signing off of the paper work on Tuesday. This all transpired a day ago on Sunday, meaning that discussion was happening tonight.

Remembering that this event is what you were getting ready for brought a multitude of emotions to run about. Any word within the synonym group to embarrassed and excitement would be hitting the mark on what you were feeling.

You’ve been keeping your friend in the loop, sending her text updates often and feeling thankful for her support. Shes aware of what’s transpiring tonight, her contact information appearing in your phone as you were finishing getting ready.

“You know, your mind doesn’t really know the difference between fear and excitement. So I suggest convincing yourself that you’re only excited.”

“I think I’d only be successful in telling it how scared I am,” you say as you shut your drawer, “because I really can only see how this will affect me negatively.”

“Expand on that.”

There’s a pause in the conversation as you throw on a shirt, “I mean, we’re going to be talking about what I’m interested in doing intimately. What if they find me weird, or they don’t want to do what I’d like to do and get rid of me?”

“First I’ll say that all you’re feeling is valid. Second, you’re being too harsh on yourself. This past week you’ve been getting to know each other, and going off of how you’ve been rambling to me after, I’d say they’re going well. Let tonight play out, be in the moment.”

You hum your response, sitting beside your phone to slip your shoes on, “okay.”

“I’ve known them like what—like two years now? They’re going to work with you, not against you. But if at any point you feel uncomfortable, you’re always free to leave whenever and call me, or security. Your wellbeing comes first.”

“Thank you, seriously.”

Three beeping sounds emit after, your lock screen appearing. There were four numbers glaring back at you, eliciting a response to start walking towards their apartment complex.

The map on your phone was confusing, stating that their location was to the left of you when it was across the street.

Natasha stood at the entrance, holding the door for you to step in. The inside was simple, light blue wallpaper lining the walls. You’ve become awkward, the feeling instigate by the nerves spiking being along with her. She lets you go through the second door first after unlocking it, letting the heavier door swing close behind her, “How was your walk?“

“Cold. It’s rather chilly today.”

Natasha walks in front to lead you up the staircase, “not a fan of the cold?”

“No, I much prefer the 70s, the mix between cold and hot.”

Three staircases later and the numbers 302 are staring back at you. Their door has a wreath outside, one decorated with red florals. Wanda comes to greet the door, letting the both of you in, even moving to hang your coat.

“Glad you got here safely,” she starts, “it gets dark so soon now that we’re rolling into winter.”

You’re entirely too thankful that they’ve begun to tell you where you can go and what you can do. They’ve opened up their home to you, but even then you weren’t sure if it was okay to sit down on the couch yet.

“Would you like a drink? I have water, tea?”

“Oh that’s alright, I’ll be fine.”

She pats your shoulder, “it’s alright if you’d like one, I’m offering.”

“Tea?”

She smiles, moving into the kitchen after. Natasha had sat across from you on another couch, laptop settled on her lap. It gave you a moment to look around, to take in their home for the first time. It was a combination of clean and messy. They had papers thrown over the cushioned footrest, shoes set carefully by the door. A pair of broken glasses were set on the tv mantle, and a tall vase beside it with tulips. Wanda comes in, setting the hot cup on the table in front of you.

“Do you like the flowers,” she asks, noticing where your gaze was transfixed, “natasha got them from a coworker.”

“Any specific reason?”

Natasha looks up from her laptop momentarily, meeting Wanda’s gaze. She speaks up, “I got asked out.”

“Oh,” you say, “at least you got nice flowers.”

Wanda laughs at the way Natasha squirms, “yeah, nice flowers. Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head, waving her off. She leaves again momentarily, the item appearing in her hand that makes you nervous again. The papers.

It was a conversation you wanted to have, you all wanted to have, but the discussion of such intimate acts felt more embarrassing than acting them out. They notice the way you’ve begun to look away, focus set outside the window.

You notice Natasha setting her MacBook away in your peripheral vision.

“Kitten,” Natasha starts, the new nickname rolling off of her lips instantly catching your attention, “are you okay with that?”

You appreciate her asking, the way her tone went soft after witnessing your reaction. It wasn’t unpleasant, it held the complete opposite reaction. The action of you nodding yet again has her speaking up, “words.”

“Yes, that’s okay.”

Natasha smiles at you, the sight easing your nerves. Wanda’s knee lands on the edge of the couch, leaning her body onto it until she’s sitting down.

“You sent these to us a day ago and we’ve reviewed it all, signed our parts as well. We’ll have those papers in my office if you ever want or need to view them while you’re over here,” she explains, setting a few pages down, “how’re you feeling about the next few?”

“Good, shy.”

“That’s alright. Tell if if you need to stop, okay?”

She’s begun to list them off, each one bringing a tinge of red to your cheeks. Your hand has come to fidget with your necklace, agreeing with the statements Wanda was reading off.

“It’s quite funny how most everything lines up with our responses.”

“Really?”

She hums, handing the papers over to Natasha, “you’re interested in all of the kinks we’re interested in, like your exhibition and choking one.”

“Wow,” you say, fingers tugging at your necklace, pulling it until the chain can’t be moved any further out.

“Did that make you nervous just now?”

Natasha asks, noticing the habit of fidgeting with a necklace arising any time a difficult situation arose. You let go of it, moving to hold the warm glass, the scent of the chamomile tea rushing to you.

“It did, but that’s only because I don’t like direct conversations. I’m better when things play out and you’re lost in the moment, but I understand this needs to be talked about.”

“We can call it a night then. If you’d like you can stay over, whatever you’d like. Please let us order an Uber though if you decide to go home, Natasha was having a fit about you walking home the other day.”

Wanda throws a look at Natasha, pressing a kiss to your head as she walks by. Natasha takes the jab, grabbing at her computer again, “and I won’t apologize for that.“

“If I were to stay tonight, where would I sleep?”

“With us,” Wanda says from the other room, “you’re not sleeping on these couches and certainly not the ground—unless you’d like to.”

“Could I stay over then?”

Wanda laughs, “you’re so sweet, of course you can. You can borrow either of our clothes, world knows how uncomfortable it is to sleep in jeans.”

Natasha shows you to the bathroom, clicking on the light so she can set the pajamas you had picked out on the counter. It was small, but larger than the one you had back with your roommates. It smelled like them, their scents overwhelming your senses when you walked in.

“The shower handles weird to use, so I’ll start that for you. I’ll leave the door unlocked just in case, okay?”

The knobs were weird. There were three of them, one for hot water, cold water, and the third to turn the pressure to come from the lower or higher nozzle. You’re thankful for her to figure it out, setting it where it was perfect. The first temperature was entirely too cold, apparently the temperature Natasha showers with in the morning.

She let you be, shutting the door and leaving you alone. All the options you had for soap were theirs. The bottles read “vanilla,” explaining why their scent was sweet. You shivered when the cold air hit, missing the warmth the water provided. The nightgown you chose was comfortable, the silk fabric to blame for that.

Wanda was still in the living room, a lamp on beside her. The room beside her had the light turned on, rustling coming from inside.

“Could you help me?”

“With what?”

“I couldn’t figure out how to turn off the shower, I’m sorry.”

Wanda sets the book down, moving past you, “you’re too kind, don’t worry about that. You can wait with Natasha, she’s already in the room.”

You assume the room with the light on is their bedroom. Natasha was leaning on the side, feet kicked off the side of the bed. She closed the drawer, sitting further back on the bed. You grow nervous again, standing in the doorway awkwardly.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“When will of it will start?”

“Whenever you’d like it to.”

A deep breath comes from you, your finger playing with the edge of your dress, “could we start tonight?”

“What’d you say? Speak a bit louder.”

“Could we start tonight? Start small?”

Her body relaxes, gesturing for you to come closer. There’s a slight tickling sensation as her hand brushes against the back of your thigh, lifting you to straddle her waist.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just relax and only speak if we ask you.”

It’s not difficult to listen to her when her hand brushes against your back in such a manner. Wanda wonders in later, taking to Natasha about something but it all became background noise. It almost lulls you to sleep, your mind on the cusp of falling into the dream world until Natasha had patted your leg.

“We’re turning the lights off, can you lay down for me?”

You rest between them, your back against Natasha’s. Wanda faces you, her hands brushing gently against your cheek. It only took a second for Natasha to begin snoring, her deep breaths hitting your back, making you scoot closer into Wanda.

“She bothering you? If we need to, I can make her sleep on the couch.”

“Oh no that’s alright, I like her here.”

Wanda smiles, leaning to press a kiss to your lips, “me too. Now sleep, it’s late.”

You adjust, finding the most comfortable spot to be resting your face under hers.

𓂃𓂃𓂃•𓂃𓂃𓂃

It’s driving you crazy, feeling her hands rub all over you but not where you need it the most. She’s been kissing you breathlessly, all on purpose so she can hear your shaky gasps of air.

“Please,” you beg, pushing your hips up, “touch me.”

“Where?”

You grab her hand, leaving it resting over your clothed cunt, “here please, I need it so bad.”

Her fingers push your underwear aside, not giving you any warning as she pushes one in, “you’re soaked.”

A whine tumbles from you, hands gripping tighter onto her wrist, “more, not enough.”

She listens, pressing another in, the stretch making you whine louder. You beg each time, grinding down onto her fingers. Each thrust pulling a, ‘more,’ from you, stating how you can take it.

“Does it feel good, kitten? You’re gripping my fingers.”

“Kitten?”

You gasp, eyes shooting open to find Natasha above you. She’s leaning over, using her hand by your head to balance herself. Her other hand was on your shoulder, presumably used to shake you awake.

“Are you alright? You were mumbling and moving around, I wanted to make sure you weren’t having a bad—“

“Touch me.”

“What.”

You clamber back, twisting your body away from hers, “nevermind.”

“No, tell me what you just said.”

“Touch me.”

It was quieter than the first time you said it but Natasha heard it.

“Remember the safe word colors we talked about, I want you to use those, okay?”

Her fingers hold your chin, moving you so you make eye contact with her, “use your words and look me in the eyes.”

“Okay,” you say, voice airy.

The moment she’s leaning down to kiss you, you’re reaching for more. She’s meeting you where you’re at, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. The sounds you make drive her crazy, they’re intoxicating. Her lips move down to your neck, biting at your collarbones to make you gasp.

“Hnn-!”

“Such a needy little thing,” she mouths, pulling your dress down to press a kiss to your nipple, “who knew you’d be so adorable.”

It’s the bare minimum and almost unreasonable for you to be so weak from it, but it’s her. The reason why you’re so reactive and wanting is because you want to feel her touch.

“Oh Natasha please,” you whine, grinding your hips down onto her clothed thigh. Natasha eyes the movement, groaning when she sees the wet patch you’ve left behind.

“Call me by my name and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Daddy, please.”

Your back is pushed into the pillows when she lifts your hips to slide your underwear completely off. You move to take off the dress but she stops you, “leave it on, you look beautiful.”

You really do, and she wishes you could see what she does. The strap handing off your shoulder, the bottom of it pooled around your waist. You moan so loud Natasha worries the neighbors might hear when her tongue licks up your folds.

“Shh,” she presses a kiss to your inner thigh, “be quiet.”

You try, the hand over your mouth your best attempt at keeping quiet. It becomes difficult to with how good she eats you out that you have to bite down on your fist. She praises you, telling you how good you listen to her.

You keen when she presses a finger in, the size of her fingers spreading you more than your dream had. Her hands on gripping your thighs open, amused at how shaky they get once she’s begun to thrust her finger in.

“Ah—! Not enough, please I need more.”

She’s compliant, already pushing another in and oh her view was heavenly. Your back arching, hips pushing onto her fingers. It’s a sight that almost makes her moan. Her own thighs grow wet seeing how you’re squirming from her ministrations. The moment she’s pushing another in, you’re already begging her to

“Oh yes please, please.”

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive.“

Her fingers are rough, pushing against your walls and angling them in a way that drives you closer to the edge. Her name is tumbling from your lips repeatedly like it’s all you know what to say.

“Don’t come without asking me,” she warns.

“Please let me come,” you gasp.

“Please who?”

“Please daddy,” you moan into your hand, “I’ll be good for you.”

“I know. I know you will. Go ahead.”

Her mouth latches onto your clit again, the stimulation being what you needed to reach your high. You pant, lungs heaving to get in air after. A smile making its way onto your face when Natasha slides up the bed to kiss your forehead.

“You did so well.”

“She did,” Wanda agrees from her position by the door, “I’m so proud.”

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ taglist below₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

@simpforlizzie @maggieromanov @angelbeingatitspurest @cerberus-spectre @olicity-boo @huggingkoalas @wandasbunnyy @babykingslayer @marigoldenblooms @godhatesgoodgirls @evmaximoff @tobiaslut @lzzysfreak @caporaI-nino @mommysfavouritegirl @gemz5 @dorabledewdroop @foxherder @madamevirgo @natashaswife4125 @peaceitsnaee @radcherryblossompainter @sagesayshi

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thestarsarebrightertonight · 2 days

Text

thats that me espresso!! // theodore nott x fem reader

playlist: espresso - sabrina carpenter

summary : theodore nott hasnt slept in days, and it was for one reason only. (or one person)

fluff , hufflepuff reader , y/n , short

lucky girl syndrome!! (another theo fic)

rubbing his eyes wearily , theodore nott poked at his breakfast , feeling the eyes of concerened friends burning into him.

"what?" he asked blankly finally looking up at his friends.

"theo is something wrong?" lorenzo asked with genuine concern snaking through his face and tone.

"yes something- no someone is wrong!" theodore said angrily as he dropped his fork , "i have not slept well for days!"

"why?" draco asked , not really that bothered by theodores insomnia , just wanting to get the tired vibe out of the friendgroup.

"because..beacause!" he started before pausing each time , finally sighing and saying in a hushed voice ,"her!"

his whisper shout and eyes staring into the distance made the whole friend group follow his eyeline , landing on a hufflepuff girl talking to her friends , y/n.

"stop staring!" he said loudly making the whole group turn back to him , drawing their eyes away from the girl , eventhough theodore himself didnt look away.

"y/n? what has she done?" lorenzo asked , confused why his hufflepuff friend would be causing theodore struggle.

"great , of course youre on a first name basis with her!" theodore seethed in jealousy finally tearing his eyes away from your smiling face , "shes not really....done anything.. God i dont know shes like an espresso , i cant look at her without getting a burst of energy! and i cant stop thinking about her its keeping me up all fucking night!!"

the group watched as theodore ranted , exchanging knowing looks before pansy decided to speak up , "theodore dont get angry with that poor girl , its not her fault you like her!"

"how could i ever get angry with her," theodore muttered and stopped talking , until matteos laugh filled the short silence , "what are you laughing at dickhead!" theodore snapped , assuming matteo was laughing at him.

"oh nothing im just laughing at diggory trying to chat up your girl," matteo smirked watching everyone frantically look back to the hufflepuff girl , only to see that she was still sat and talking with her friends , cedric no where to be seen.

theodore , who had stood up in a panic smacked matteo on the back of the head and angrily snapped at the laughing boy, "shut up man not funny."

"sorry , sorry youre really gulible ," matteo laughed to himself , draco smirking at the two.

"i shoudlve never told you lot ," theodore grumbled himself , going back to poking his food.

"dont be like that theo , just a bit of fun , " blaise smirked as theodore threw him an angry look.

"no but seriously theodore , you cant let yourself be exhausted because of a girl" pansy said.

"shes not just a girl , shes nice and funny and beautiful and!-... im pathetic," theo sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his curls.

"im done with all this sappy , annoying shit , go ask her to hogsmeade or ill do it. and trust me i wont rest until she falls in love with me, " draco warned , attempting at making his friend confess.

"DONT!" theodore shouted at him , immediatly letting embrassment sink in as everyone , including you, turned to look at him, "ill....do it"

lorenzo and pansy spoke words of encouragment as the petrified boy rose from the table , draco , matteo and blaise forgetting the whole ordeal and discussing quidditch instead.

once theodore was far enough from the table pansy turned to enzo , "why is that the most emotion ive ever seen out of him in our whole lifelong friendship?"

"dunno , hufflepuffs are really effective i guess," enzo shrugged before they both skipped to another conversation and started eating again.

----

theodore walked towards your table with a confident stride , stopping behind you and sliding in next to you on the bench , close enough to the point that your bodies were pressed togther. as you jumped in suprise theo gave you a flirty smile and stared you dead in the eye.

"hi theodore , can i help you?" you asked wearily , glancing away from him and at your confused friends for a split second.

"yes, you can ," thedore smirked , "how about hogsmeade , this weekend , you and me?"

you physically paused as your mouth hung open , this was the second time you had ever talked to theodore nott and he was suddenly asking you out??!

"oh um....yeah - yeah sure id love to" you gave him a smile , a little cautious and very much confused.

"great , see you then beautiful ,"he winked, planting a kiss on your cheek before slipping out of the bench and confidently walking back to the slytherin table.

you looked at your friends with deep confusion, before going on to watch theo walk away , whilst your friends yapped about how hot he is.

-----

"so how was it?" pansy asked theodore as he sat down.

he quickly dropped his confident , cool face and let a wide grin bless his features , "perfect!!! she said yes! i walked up and acted real calm and collected ,and she didnt know i was nervous at all!!"

pansy and lorenzo smiled at him as the other boys just ignored him , uninterested. "thats great theo! so are you gonna be able to sleep now?" enzo laughed.

"like a baby." theodore grinned.

#harry potter #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #harry potter x reader #slytherin #hufflepuff #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #blaise zabini #matteo riddle #x reader #theodore nott x y/n #espresso #sabrina carpenter #fanfic

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vanteguccir · 1 day

Text

4 Times That She Made Him Smile | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N is the only person who can make Matt smile genuinely; OR 4 times that Y/N made Matt smile.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anons.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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1. Had Matt shaved his beard?

The morning started like any other in the triplets' house. The sun had barely risen over the horizon when the three found themselves in the typical kitchen, each of them still fighting sleep but ready to face another day of recording.

Nick was busy preparing breakfast, while Matt and Chris lounged lazily around the table, Chris with his head lying on the wooden surface.

"Smells good, Nick. What are you making?" Matt murmured, rubbing the drowsiness away from his eyes.

"Waffles and bacon." Nick responded in a low, slow tone, stirring the strips inside the ceramic frying pan.

"Bacon with waffles?" Chris grimaced, yawning loudly as he lifted his head, laying his body haphazardly on the chair.

Meanwhile, Y/N was still in her own world, enjoying a peaceful sleep in her shared room with Matt. However, her sleep was interrupted by the sound of a plate hitting the sink's marble counter, followed by a loud curse.

With a yawn, the girl slowly sat down on the bed, running a hand through her messy hair and running her sleepy eyes around the room, already having the idea that Matt was in the kitchen, where the sound had echoed from.

Seconds later, she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, ready to start her morning routine. But something immediately caught her attention as soon as she entered the smaller room. On top of the sink was Matt's beard trimmer, an object she recognized all too well.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked around, trying to process what she was seeing. Had Matt shaved his beard?

With her heart beating fast, Y/N ran back to the bedroom, grabbing the pajama shorts thrown on her boyfriend's gaming chair, quickly putting them on and finally leaving the room, completely ignoring her own messy appearance.

Back in the kitchen, the brothers were busy devouring the breakfast Nick had prepared. They barely noticed when Y/N walked out of the small hall that connected the room to her bedroom, her eyes fixed on Matt.

"Matt..." Her voice came out in an incredulous whisper as she approached, stopping in front of him and staring at his face intensely.

Matt looked up from his plate, smiling big when he saw her awake.

"Good morning, babe. How did you-" He interrupted his own sentence when he saw her condition, frowning in confusion and worry. "Hey, did something happen?"

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure, but the sight of Matt without a beard was too much for her. With a fake sob, she knelt before him, her eyes shining with false emotion.

"Matt, baby, how could you do this?" She whimpered, dramatizing every word. "You shaved your beard... The beard that I loved so much!"

The other two brothers watched the scene with wide eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or be worried about Y/N's reaction, unlike Matt, who took a few seconds to process what she had said, before a loud laugh escaped from his lips, his hands letting go of the food he was holding.

"We're done!"

Matt continued laughing, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"Y/N, did you hit your head?"

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2. Girls' night (with a masculine touch)

The night was warm and cozy in the triplets' house as Matt, Nick, Chris, and Y/N gathered in the living room. After a long day of recording and, on Y/N's part, studying, they decided it was time to relax and have fun together.

"What are we doing tonight?" Chris asked, throwing his phone onto his lap and looking around at the others, lowering his body onto the upholstery.

"Can we do our nails?" The suggestion escaped Nick's lips quickly, his eyes shining with excitement. "And maybe do some skincare."

"Like a girl's night?" Y/N smiled, straightening her posture quickly, feeling just as excited.

"Why not?" Matt shrugged, staring at his nails with a contemplative look. "But I've never done my own nails before, I always do them with Analysse."

"It's just painting your nails, like watercolor. It's not difficult, honey." Y/N waved her hand dismissively, getting up from her seat and running to her shared room with Matt, looking for her box of nail polish and nail's tools.

With their gear gathered, they arranged themselves comfortably and strategically on the couch, ready to begin their impromptu night of beauty.

Y/N led the way, skillfully beginning to paint her own nails as she explained the process.

"First, you need to apply a base coat to protect your nails." She explained, opening the base coat and carefully applying it, being quickly followed by Nick.

The brothers watched with interest, watching each movement with concentration.

"That seems easy enough." Chris commented, taking the little bottle from Y/N's hand and starting to apply it to his own nails.

Meanwhile, Matt was carefully examining the available nail polishes colors, trying to decide which one to choose. Y/N's eyes found his figure, a smile growing on her face, feeling great love for his appreciation and care for the moment.

"How about a black one with white details?" Matt suggested, holding up two bottles in the mentioned colors, showing them to Y/N with a proud smile on his face.

"It's going to look amazing, my love."

Chris quickly picked out his own nail polish color with Nick's help, returning to his seat while swinging his legs eagerly.

They dipped their brushes into the nail polish bottles with determination but soon discovered that painting their own nails wasn't as simple as it seemed.

"This is harder than I thought." Matt grumbled as he tried to paint his nails without smudging, his fingers shaking slightly as his tongue lolled slightly out of his lips in concentration.

Chris nodded, his lips pressed tightly together as he tried not to move his hand too much.

"I think I'm doing this wrong..."

"You two are doing pretty well for beginners." Y/N laughed softly, watching the brothers fondly.

After some errors, everyone finally finished painting their nails, each proudly displaying their own piece of art, even if it was a little smudged.

"Look at us, a bunch of nail professionals!" Nick joked, blowing on his freshly painted nails with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess we could consider a new career." Matt contributed, admiring his nails with a satisfied expression before raising his hands, his nails facing Y/N as he wiggled his fingers excitedly.

"It's perfect, babe, congratulations!" Y/N praised, leaning towards him slightly and sealing the back of his right hand with her lips lightly, exhaling the fresh smell of nail polish and acetone.

"Maybe we should open our own men's salon." Chris smiled, shaking his hands to dry the nail polish faster.

Matt laughed out loud, imagining the scene of them painting other men's nails with the same determination and enthusiasm they had moments ago. It would be comical.

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3. Video as a couple

Matt was nervous as he prepared to record his next video for his personal YouTube channel. It was still one of the first videos he posted there, and despite his enormous desire to make more content for his own channel, he felt an anxiety growing within him every time he thought about creating something new on his own.

Therefore, he decided to invite his girlfriend, Y/N, to participate with him in that specific one, taking advantage of the opportunity to introduce her as his girlfriend.

It's not that fans didn't know Y/N was his. They knew, and they knew it very well, but Matt never got around to introducing her as such officially.

"Are you ready for this?" He asked, looking at Y/N with a nervous smile.

"I should be the one asking you that." Y/N smiled small before nodding, holding his free hand affectionately. "But yes, I am. There's nothing I want more than to be said to be your girlfriend, baby."

With a nervous sigh, Matt began to set up the camera on the dashboard of the car, while Y/N settled into the passenger seat next to him, trying to calm him with words of encouragement.

"You'll do amazingly well, hon. I'm sure of it." Y/N said, leaning over the car console and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Finally, everything was ready, and Matt began recording, his voice a little shaky at first but soon becoming more confident as he got used to the camera without his brothers around him.

"Hey! Welcome to my personal YouTube channel." He began, smiling slightly at the camera. "Today I have a very special guest for you to meet."

He turned his face to Y/N with a twinkle in his eye, who waved at the lenses, opening a shy smile.

"This is Y/N, my girlfriend." Matt continued, looking at her with big heart eyes. "Most of you already know her as our best friend, and maybe you already know about our relationship, but now we're finally going public to make it official... Well, she agreed to participate in today's video, so I hope you enjoy getting to know her a little better."

Y/N smiled as she watched her boyfriend introduce her as his, her cheeks taking on a reddish hue, feeling a little nervous and shy, but happy to be there next to him.

To make things more fun, Matt decided to answer some questions asked by fans about the two of them together or individually. He selected some of the funniest and most interesting questions and read them out loud for the two of them to discuss.

"Okay, first question." Matt began, looking at his phone in hand. "How we met?"

"Well, we actually met at a friend's birthday party from our school in elementary school. Matt was trying to impress everyone with his basketball skills, but he ended up hitting the ball over one of the girls' heads." Y/N laughed, remembering the story fondly.

Matt blushed at the memory, shaking his head and looking down, trying to hide the involuntary smile that took over his face.

"Next!" Matt cleared his throat, his voice coming out high-pitched from the shyness of the previous event. "What's the secret to a long-lasting relationship?"

"Oh, great question!" Y/N clapped her hands in excitement, lifting her legs and pressing the soles of her feet onto the seat, keeping her knees bent and tights against her chest. "For me, the key is communication and mutual support. It's important to always be honest with each other and literally be there through the good times and the bad."

"For sure, I also think it's essential to have understanding and empathy for each other. Being willing to listen and understand your partner's needs makes all the difference." Matt contributed.

He looked at his girlfriend, waiting for approval and receiving a big smile in return, which was accompanied by a nod.

"What's the most memorable memory you've had together?" Matt read the next question quickly, before looking up, his eyes alight with nostalgia. "There are so many wonderful memories to choose." He reflected, thoughtfully. "But one of my favorites was when we made our first unplanned trip together almost two years ago and ended up getting lost in a small town in Italy."

"Oh my God, so true!" Y/N threw her head back, laughing loudly at the memory. "That was an unforgettable experience. I remember we went to ask for directions at a small restaurant right on the corner from one of the alleys, and there were several pastas hanging, drying. I just asked the main chief what that was, and boom, we passed all day in that restaurant, tasting different types of fresh pasta and discovering more of their culture together."

As the video continued, Matt and Y/N shared more stories, laughs, and loving moments. They answered questions about their funny habits, their favorite couple traditions, and even their future plans together.

In the end, when Matt ended the video with a warm thank you to the fans who would watch it when posted, he turned to Y/N with a beaming smile.

"Thank you for doing this with me, petal." The brunette whispered, leaning over the car console and pulling her into a tight hug, smiling widely. "It meant the world for me."

"I'll always be here to support you, Matt. And I can't wait to make more videos together in the future." Y/N smiled, feeling happy to have shared that moment with Matt.

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4. Kittens day

Y/N woke up excitedly that morning, knowing it was the day she would volunteer at the cat kennel like she always did every Tuesday. It was an activity she loved doing, and she always invited Matt to join her, but his work with YouTube always ended up interfering.

However, this time, Matt had surprised Y/N by making room in his schedule to join her. She couldn't wait to share this experience with him.

When they arrived at the kennel, they were greeted by the soft sound of meows and purrs. Y/N smiled when she saw the felines playing and snuggling on their colorful scratching posts of all possible sizes.

"It's so good to be here." She said excitedly to Matt, taking his hand as they walked through the decorated halls. "Cats are so adorable and deserve so much love and affection."

Matt smiled as he listened to her chatter about the felines, watching them and her with fascination.

The couple spent the day taking care of the cats, feeding them, cleaning their litter boxes, and, of course, playing with them. Y/N taught Matt the proper way to hold and pet kittens, and he was soon having as much fun as she was.

"I never want to leave again." Matt suddenly commented as, sitting side by side on the fluffy rug, they watched a group of kittens playing with a fur ball. "I understand why you love coming here every week."

"It's a special place, with special cats... You know, I'm really glad you're here with me today." Y/N smiled, lifting her head slightly to look at him better, feeling her heart warm when she realized that Matt was just as involved in the activity as she was.

"I'm glad too."

At the end of the day, as they were about to leave, Matt suddenly stopped, looking at a cat in one of the cages. It was an orange cat with bright blue eyes that stared back at him curiously.

"Wow, he is perfect." Matt whispered, slowly approaching the cage. "He seems so friendly."

"You like him, don't you?" Y/N smiled, following him towards the feline, noticing the immediate connection between Matt and the cat.

"Yeah, I really do." Matt nodded, his eyes shining with determination. "What do you think about having a cat?"

Y/N felt a wave of emotion and happiness wash over her when she heard him, taking a few seconds to process if she was creating things in her head, realizing she wasn't when she noticed Matt looking at her with expecting eyes.

"Oh my God, really?" Her voice came out louder than expected, slightly scaring the kitten. "Oops, I'm sorry, little kitten."

With beaming smiles and clasped hands, they went to the kennel staff to begin the adoption process. While Y/N filled out the forms, Matt kept his eyes fixed on the cat lovingly, imagining their days with the new addition.

"What will be his name, my love?" His girlfriend's voice sounded behind him, breaking him out of his reverie. Matt shook his head slightly, focusing his attention on Y/N again, an easy smile stretching across his face.

"Snuggles. His name will be Snuggles."

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My requests are open! Please read my rules before sending anything ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

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munson-blurbs · 10 hours

Text

Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.

A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers

Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika

“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”

“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”

You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down.

“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”

He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.”

He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them.

“I’m serious.”

Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”

“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint.

“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?

“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”

He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office.

Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again.

Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground.

You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner.

What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone.

Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl.

Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates.

“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”

Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”

You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”

Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around.

Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.

The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe.

Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves.

“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing.

“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination.

Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though.

A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.

“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman.

Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction.

You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen.

Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone.

The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”

“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”

A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”

Eddie smirks. “One…two—”

Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits.

Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself.

Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land.

His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though.

Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?

Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk.

In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside.

Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit.

“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”

“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you.

“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”

“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds.

“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”

“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”

“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”

He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”

“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so.

“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”

A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”

“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”

“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”

Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”

“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”

He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey.

All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—

A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”

“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”

“Don’t care.”

Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies.

Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs.

Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately.

“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.”

You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch.

Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter.

“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you.

The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice.

One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible.

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”

He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom.

The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.

“Get the fuck out!” you hiss.

Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.

Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.

“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.”

Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them.

Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”

You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind.

“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”

“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle.

A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”

“Only for you,” you echo.

He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”

The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror.

When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.

“Atta girl,” he praises.

At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”

The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle.

He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”

You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip.

“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading.

“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached.

“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”

You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.”

Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl.

One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”

“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles.

“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”

He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you.

Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him.

A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.

“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.

“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”

Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in.

The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.

“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.

“Yeah?”

“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had.

Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”

A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.

“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”

A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can.

“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”

You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”

Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur:

“You read my mind, Beautiful.”

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 23 hours

Text

Is It All Over? - LN

Summary: Lando's girlfriend seems to disappear from any appearances with him and fans are growing concerned it might all be over. Which doesn't matter to Lando, till he feels like she's missed

Mildly shy!reader (bc I miss writing the shy series sometimes - this isn't the shy series, I'm just saying I liked writing it) also for the girls who are emotionally attached to a childhood comfort blanket (the one in this fic isn't just a couple strings of fabric tho)

No part 2 requests please

Being back in Monaco, Lando has been keeping himself busy going out with Max and P and having his sister and her boyfriend there to visit.

Y/n on the other hand, she's been...absent. In fact even he has to admit he doesn't exactly remember when he last saw her, he's been texting her all day between his own plans. But where the hell she's been and what she's been doing he wishes he could say.

"Alright, home time." Max declares actually being the dad of the group and responsible enough to know when to call it a night. But even on their way out he makes a comment which does sort of make Lando have to hide a wince. "Did y/n not come to join us? P thought y/n had mentioned joining us for dinner."

"Uhh...she didn't say anything to me." Lando shrugs then smiling as they all head back.

Lando stayed away from the alcohol so he could actually drive back and Max seemed to follow suit to drive the other car.

"Things are good between you and y/n, aren't they?" Max questions earning a frown. "I mean just...there's a lot of stuff online about her seeming to never be around-and I know not to listen. But it's not like her to miss out on something like this."

"Honestly mate...I don't even know." Lando admits hating that he's even saying it. Who wants to admit they don't even know if their relationship is on the rocks? Even worse, who wants to admit fans that know nothing about the relationship are right about it being on the rocks?

They all drive back, parking their cars in the garage which is seemingly packed with Lando's car collection.

The couples seem to get themselves to the spare guest rooms and start to wind down leaving Lando to search for his girlfriend. Finding her curled up in bed wrapped the blanket that you'd be lucky to pry from her hands if you catch her in the wrong mood.

"Hey, baby." Lando greets casually leaning over the bed to give her a kiss which she returns promptly.

"Hey."

"Did you not feel up to joining us?" Lando asks trying not to sound annoyed or upset. "Max was asking after you."

Y/n remains quiet while Lando busies himself in getting dressed and changing for bed.

"Baby?"

"I just felt...like staying in." Y/n murmurs then sighing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let anyone down. It's just-I felt like there was so many people and when we were getting ready this morning and everyone was coming in and talking to me about how many people would be there and how many people we'd be meeting up with, I kind of got freaked out."

Cue Lando grimacing inwardly and being hit with a reason to dislike himself.

He's been busy. Very busy and with him not wanting y/n to travel with him too much because of her lack of ability to really adapt well at all to the time zone changes.

But none of that excuses that fact that he's just overlooked and ignored one of the key characteristics that makes y/n the person she is.

She's shy.

Big groups and a lots of people might feel like a nice or normal situation for most people but for y/n it's just a nightmare. Her idea of perfect is just spending the night with Lando and it's not because she doesn't like other people or because she's a bitch. She's just shy and that situation pushes her further into being quiet and withdrawn the whole time.

"Shit." Lando mutters as he's finally dressed then climbing onto the bed and pulling y/n into a hug and kissing all around her face which does earn a small smile and laugh from his girlfriend. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Because I was mad...but it's not fair that I was mad." Lando sighs making her frown. "You've never liked nights out and you don't like big groups. I don't even know why I expected you to come."

"Lando...it's normal for a girlfriend to go out with you and your friends." Y/n mumbles then smiling sadly. "I'm sorry though."

"No. You don't need to be sorry...it's my fault. Max asked and with all the comments and theories from fans recently because you haven't been at races...It's just got in my head." Lando groans then feeling the young woman move to hug him tightly. "I love you."

"Lando...stop beating yourself up...please." Y/n mumbles making him smile lightly at her. "You're cute but you really don't need to be so concerned...even if your fans are getting in your head."

Lando hums with a grunt before lying back and pulling her with him to lie down.

"How did you spend your night then?" Lando asks making her smile.

"I made spaghetti carbonara from scratch. I painted my toe nails." Y/n smiles showing her toes which are painted a glossy white.

"Very pretty." Lando smiles since y/n had been trying to improve her skill on doing her own nails. Usually with little success on her hands but her toes always go well. "How was the carbonara?"

"So so good. I loved it." Y/n nods then rolling to lie on her tummy.

"Good. I'm glad you had a good night."

"Since we are kind of having a serious talk though." Y/n mumbles shifting ever so slightly closer. "I do sort of want to come to the next race-I know I'll be a mopey, grumpy, tired bitch. But I want to be there for you and I'm sick of fans dog-piling on me in comments and tags about why I'm not there and if we've broken up."

"I want you at every race baby. You don't need permission. You just come with me whenever you want, ok?" Lando smiles then pulling her towards her for a kiss. "I just don't want you to feel forced into being there with me if you don't feel up to it. But I'll always want you there. No matter what."

"Ok, well I want to be there for the next race. Really badly." Y/n murmurs earning a grin.

"Good and you can be as antisocial as you want. No enforced socialising."

Lando was pretty excited to slap those rumours and assumptions about his relationship away and while he promised no socialising if she didn't feel up to it.

That didn't mean he wouldn't be showing her off, making it clear with every kiss, hug and possibly cheeky gesture whenever possible throughout the weekend.

"Lando! You have got to behave. There are cameras." Y/n gasps in a quiet voice when Lando comes up to her managing to steal a kiss and shamelessly hold her ass with both hands to pull her forward against himself.

"I love you." Lando shrugs making it obvious he's got no intention of easing up on the PDA even if she looks like she wants to jab him in the throat for the constant attention being drawn to her because of his ravishing over her. "I'm just glad we've shut fans up. I was getting sick of them asking if I'd really fumbled someone as good as you."

"They should give you more credit. You're super smart." Y/n smiles while reaching up to shift a stray curl. "Even if it's me hitting about my weight."

"Don't even." Lando tsks then lifting her and doing what he always does when he wants to carry her around which is refuse to place her down till she just complies so it's no surprise when she lifts her legs and locks them up around his waist. "You're sticking with me for a bit."

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thef1diary · 1 day

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Baby Jr | Two

— Intimate Indulgence

Series Masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected sex (that’s expected at this point), oral, fingering, choking, degradative terms, spanking, praise kink go brr.

wc: 4k (pure smut btw, enjoy 🤭)

Carlos easily gave in to your pull by falling forward, his hands finding your waist and giving a little squeeze while his foot kicked the door shut behind him. He pulled you closer, your lips lightly brushing his for a moment in experimentation before pressing together with more confidence.

Your hands trailed up into his hair finding a few strands still damp from his shower. You smiled against his lips, knowing that he stopped by his own hotel room before coming to yours and acting as if he had nowhere else to go.

His fingertips danced underneath the hem of your shirt, coming in contact with your bare supple skin. Your head tilted back once he gave you a chance to breathe but the trail of kisses he began leaving down your neck stole your breath away again.

Your skin lit ablaze with every touch he provided after depriving you for what felt like ages. The little friendly touches here and there every day for the last couple of months frustrated you endlessly.

You almost wanted to scream at him, tell him to get on with it but you couldn’t, no, not when he was murmuring compliments in your ear, calling you a good girl for being so responsive.

“You couldn’t have come a few minutes earlier? I just put my clothes on,” you couldn’t help but murmur, earning a low chuckle in response with a small nip on your shoulder in retaliation.

“I’ll help you take it all off,” he spoke against your skin, feeling your pulse quicken underneath his lips.

Your hands roamed his body, feeling every ridge of muscle you could reach on his back that you had been shamelessly ogling earlier. Right underneath your fingertips, barely just grazing the skin hidden beneath his shirt with your nails, you earned a low groan from him.

He squeezed your hips again as an indication before slightly picking up the speed of his actions. Pressing a seemingly innocent peck to his lips, he used that moment to reach lower to rest his hands below your ass before picking you up, earning a gasp from you. Further using that gasp as an invitation to deepen the kiss, Carlos slightly pulled on your bottom lip, barely teasing it with his teeth before letting go.

You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind as he began to walk further inside the room.

His palms now resting just a few centimeters shy away from your ass to hold you up—which he could’ve easily done with one hand—he grazed his thumb back and forth, bunching up your shorts even higher as he left no space between your bodies.

Your lips trailed down his neck, sucking a tad more harshly before peppering the spot in light kisses, knowing that it’ll turn into a noticeable mark later on.

In the heat of the moment, briefly forgetting the risk for the pleasure, neither of you thought of the consequences that may arise from visible marks.

Carlos sat on the edge of the bed, causing you to meet his hips firmly as you straddled him. He pulled your hips even closer, urging you to grind on him while claiming your lips once again.

You gasped against his mouth as he lifted his own hips to catch you by surprise, “fuck me, please,” you muttered.

Carlos was tempted to take off your shirt because a slight movement from you shifted the neckline, revealing a peek of your shoulder. He was quick to place his lips against the bare skin.

Once again, his hands trailed beneath your shirt and pulled it up further to take it off. “As you wish.”

He threw it aside, not giving the item of clothing any thought as his eyes swept over your nude upper body. He put one hand on your lower back, and you shuddered, perhaps from the warmth of his fingers or from his encouragement to keep moving your hips against his.

Lost in the pleasure pulsing throughout your body, a gasp left your mouth when you clenched your thighs because his other hand rested on the base of your throat.

Sliding his palm down the front of your body, he barely grazed over your nipples, taking an extra moment to tease them, causing a whine to leave your throat. “Carlos,” you cried, tilting your head back while your eyes closed in frustration.

The moment he turned you over and placed you on the bed, you believed that he had finally shown pity for your neediness. Kneeling over you, he single handedly removed his shirt, before moving on to his belt. You sat up, planting a trail of filthy kisses down his chest as your fingers replaced his on his belt because you were itching to do it for him.

“You’ve been teasing me for ages, cariño,” he reasoned, as if to justify why he hasn’t nearly given you enough attention just yet.

“Me? You’re the one that kept finding excuses to talk to me, to touch me.” You draw him closer by pulling on the band of his pants, enabling him to lean over you without placing any weight against you since he braced himself with his forearm positioned next to your head.

“Can I?” He asks while glancing down at your shorts for a moment. His fingers follow his gaze, trailing down your chest to your stomach, resting on the hem of your shorts.

You inhale deeply while nodding but he shook his head, almost disappointed, “I need words.”

A whimper threatened to leave your mouth as you saw him move his hands to pull away. You quickly placed your hands over his, pulling them back onto your waist.

Finding your words, you consented, “touch me all you want, Carlos, please, the winner gets what he wants.”

He smirked, reminded of his win that led to this need to act on his desires. He hooked his fingers on the band of your shorts, finally dragging them down before tossing the piece of cloth away like he did to your shirt.

Moving down your body, he laid between your legs, facing you after he pulled them apart further. Despite still having a flimsy material covering your pussy, he could still see the outline of your lips due to how your wetness caused your panties to stick to your pussy.

“A few kisses and you’re already soaked?” He lightly chuckled at your futile attempt of raising your hips when one of his fingers slid down over your panties, grazing your protruding covered clit.

“All for you,” you responded, trying to coax him into touching you again with nothing but the truth.

He lowered himself and you could feel his breath fanning against you, then he slowly placed open mouth kisses on your inner thighs. Your head dropped back, resting on the bed with your eyes fluttering shut as he neared the spot you wanted him the most.

His hands rested on your thighs to keep your legs apart while he continued to tease you.

“I want to taste you.”

His words caused you to tilt your head to look at him, your gaze instantly connecting with his since he was already looking at you.

You knew right then that you would do anything he asked if he kept looking at you with those round, dark brown eyes.

Nodding, you muttered, “please.” You raised your hips as he hooked his fingers in the flimsy material, quickly sliding it down and removing it completely.

Reaching a hand past your head, he grabbed a pillow before shifting further down the bed until his knees rested on the floor and he was kneeling in front of your spread legs. He left the pillow beside you as he wrapped his hands around your thighs, earning a startled gasp from you when he pulled you closer to the edge, towards his warm mouth.

“Up,” he ordered, placing the pillow beneath your ass to raise your hips higher.

You watched his movements carefully, biting your lip in anticipation as he brought two of his fingers to his mouth, licking them before placing it on your outer lips. He pulled the fingers outwards, spreading you open for him and watching as you desperately clench on nothing but air.

Sticking out the tip of his tongue, he lightly pressed it against your protruding clit, earning a sharp inhale from you. Flattening his tongue, he dipped it between your folds to gather a bit of your wetness before dragging it upwards, stimulating your clit for the first time that night.

Focusing solely on your clit for now, he softly moved his tongue in a circular motion, pausing and pulling away to see more creamy wetness gathering between your lips, all on display for him as his fingers still held you spread apart.

Pursing his lips, he gathered a bit of saliva in his mouth before dropping it onto your clit, watching as it slowly slid down in between your lips adding to the slick already formed.

Lapping at your pussy and giving a few experimental licks first to gather your taste in his mouth, he moaned against your folds, sending a shiver up your spine at the added vibration.

“Mm, you taste so sweet.” He parted away from you for now, connected only by a string of saliva from your pussy to his mouth which broke away when he licked his lips.

His fingers followed the trail of his spit, slipping his fingers into your hole one by one until he had worked three fingers down to the last knuckle. You arched your back at the sudden added sensations.

“S’good for me,” he commented, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure from both his fingers and his words praising you.

While increasing the pace of his fingers moving inside you, he peppered kisses all over your inner thighs, catching you by surprise when he nipped at your skin.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, dampening the sound of your moans to your own ears but it was like music to his.

He grabbed your right leg and tossed it over his shoulder, preventing you from fully closing your legs and giving him the ability to touch you in any way he pleased.

His skilled fingers brushed against your insides in such a pleasurable way that almost clouded your vision with stars. He was able to reach deeply in places that you never could with your own fingers.

Your thigh twitches while your palms close around the sheets above your head as you near your release. “Carlos,” you murmur, his name becoming one of the very few things you remembered.

“Gonna cum for me?” He asked, placing his mouth over your clit, sucking harshly that made you raise your hips while a cry left your lips.

You weren’t able to form a word much less a sentence but he could tell by the pitch of your moans that you just needed something more to push you over the edge.

Sticking out the tip of his tongue, he repeatedly flicked your clit until you were writhing in pleasure.

“Go on, cum all over my fingers,” he permitted, curving his finger in the right spot that had you obeying him in seconds.

He continued thrusting his fingers in and out as you coated them with your cum, slowing down just a bit to prolong your release. Carlos greedily lapped up every drop that left you, enamored and addicted to your taste.

Pulling his fingers out, he licked your pussy from your entrance up to your clit once more, earning a cry releasing from your lips. “Ah- fuck, baby.”

He moved away only when you began squirming, that too with the corners of his lips turned up in a smirk.

Breathing heavily, you looked at him, noticing his lips and chin glistening with your slick but your eyes widened once he placed those same fingers in his mouth that were just in you moments ago, sucking them clean.

Your pussy still pulsed at his gesture, feeling a tad too empty. You knew you needed more, especially since you could see his bulge straining behind his boxers which quickly turned your bubble of arousal into desperation. You didn’t notice when he discarded his pants, adding it to the growing pile of clothes but you were glad he did.

Carlos placed lingering kisses trailing up your body. On your hips and stomach, then flattening his tongue and dragging up until he reached your chest. Placing two firm lingering kisses on your nipples that had you threading your fingers through his hair at the suction of his lips, he faced you while holding himself above your body. With his gaze still on your chest, he lightly blew air on them, hardening your already pert nipples at the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive, so responsive.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him lower until he rested his weight on you.

“That is such a bad habit of yours,” he murmured, his gaze now focusing on your lips.

“What is?” You asked innocently, blinking a few times in quick succession as your hand traveled to the nape of his neck.

“This,” he brings his hand to your chin, fingers pulling your lip free from being bitten between your teeth. Then he added, “it makes me want to kiss you every time you do it.”

Tilting your head closer, your gaze connected with his for a moment before you looked down at his soft lips, licking your own before responding, “maybe you should.”

He took your words as an invitation to claim your lips with his own, enveloping your lower lip in the heat of his mouth. Your hands trailed upwards into his hair again, lightly pulling at it as you responded with just as much force and passion.

His fingers brushed against your cheek, moving lower to grip your chin with his thumb and index finger, asserting dominance as he guided you through the kiss.

Moving even lower, his hand followed the curve of your throat as his palm rested on the base while his fingers pressed into the sides, earning a hum from your mouth.

This time, as you grazed your nails down his back there wasn’t any barrier of clothing in between. You dragged your hands as low as you could, almost able to touch the hem of his boxers that you desperately wanted to remove.

“Off,” you spoke, frustration lacing your tone.

He breathed in the lingering scent of your shower gel now mixed with a layer of sweat in the crook of your neck. “Then take it off, cariño.”

Loosening your legs wrapped around his waist, you began using your feet to shove the thin layer of fabric down that was keeping a part of his body that you couldn’t wait to touch and feel inside you hidden away.

You had gotten the band of his boxers down to his thighs, and he moved away to slide the material off his body before quickly aligning his body against yours again.

You mumbled against his lips but he couldn’t make out the words, so he moved an inch away to allow you to speak while his hand returned to where it had found a spot on your throat. “What was that?”

“Fuck me, Carlos, fuck me good,” you repeated, earning a small grin from him while his grip tightened on your throat.

“On your hands and knees,” he commanded, releasing his grip.

You turned over, arching your back while looking over your shoulder to entice him, earning a slap on your ass in return. You moaned, a satisfying smile painting on your lips. Shuffling onto your knees while reaching your arms outwards that brought your upper body closer to the mattress, you stuck your ass in the air.

“Do that again,” you muttered but you furrowed your brows when the hit never came. Looking back again, you saw a stern expression overtaking his usual smirk. He placed his palms on your cheeks, spreading them for a moment but before it could turn into anything more, he dropped his hands to his sides.

“Are you ordering me around now?” He asked with a raised brow, and your lips parted as you realized your mistake.

Slowly shaking your head in denial and your hips to the side to convince him, you tried again, “please do that again.”

He listened to your pleas, slapping your ass once again on the same spot as earlier before taking you by surprise and bringing his palm down on your other cheek. “Good girl, don’t forget your manners, darling.”

Kneeling on the bed behind you, Carlos’ body heat engulfed you, providing a brief blanket of comfort over you completely contrasting your thoughts and anticipation, knowing that he wouldn’t bestow any mercy upon you while he fucked your pussy.

Running his fingers down your slit, he spread your folds apart before sliding his hardened cock to replace his fingers, coating it in your wetness. Your balance faltered for a moment causing you to fall forward when his tip touched your clit, sending a burst of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Look at that, you’re already trying to clench around me, baby,” he muttered, watching your folds flutter around his cock as it tried to coax it inside you.

Inching backwards, you rubbed your ass against his cock, earning a low groan from him. “Carlos, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will scream,” you half heartedly threatened but he just chuckled.

“You will still scream even when I fuck you.”

“Then prove it,” you shot back.

Without a warning, Carlos slid his cock in you while one of his hands rested on your hip to prevent you from falling forward again. You muttered a curse, dragging out the last syllable as your eyes rolled back at the initial feeling.

His other hand trailed up your body, leaving featherlight touches on the length of your back. Wrapping his fingers around your hair, he pulled until your head tilted up and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. He could only wish he had chosen a better position to see your reaction, but he imagined it to the best of his ability aided by the sweet sounds you let out.

“You have to stop clenching so hard, cariño, I can’t move,” he muttered in your ear, pressing light kisses on the crook of your neck, earning an audible exhale from you.

When he moved to continue sliding inside, your eyes widened, “you’re not fully in yet?”

He let out a sound in denial, “a little more.” Once fully settled inside, he paused, breathing out while his eyes were squeezed shut, “you feel so good, such a perfect, tight cunt,” he mumbled, and the praise had you clenching around him involuntarily.

“Please move,” you spoke while lightly pushing back, moaning as you felt him a tad deeper even if it was for a brief moment. He pulled back, leaving the warmth of your cunt and a whimper left your mouth as you only felt his tip remaining inside, mouth dropping open once he thrusted forward; this time with more force.

His fingers pressed into your hips and you couldn’t care less even after knowing that you would likely see his fingerprints marked onto your skin the next morning. Releasing his grip on your hair, he settled on grasping onto your shoulder to guide his thrusts at a steady pace.

“Go on, tell everyone on the floor who’s fucking you senseless.” He spat, only then making you realize the volume of the moans leaving your mouth, echoing throughout the hotel room along with the sound of skin slapping on skin. It was lewd, but you couldn’t help but arch your back further as you began to lose yourself within the pleasure.

He chuckled once you covered your mouth with your hands in an attempt to muffle your moans, your balance stumbling as your weight was now only held up by one arm. “No? You don’t want to tell them what a fucking slut you are for me? How easy it is to get your pussy soaking wet.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeated, unable to keep your hand on your mouth as you fisted the sheets in your palms. Feeling you clench around him over and over again, he knew you were getting close to your release.

Pulling out of you for a quick second, that still earned a cry escaping past your lips, he flipped you onto your back and thrusted in your pussy again. Now that you were face to face, he couldn’t waver his gaze away from your expressions.

Your eyes fluttered shut once he hiked up your leg on his waist, able to thrust deeper. Holding onto his shoulders to ground yourself, he moaned as he felt your nails digging into his skin.

“Please,” you mumbled, feeling so close that you felt like you were going to explode with frustration if he stopped. Fortunately, he continued the brutal pace of his thrusts and placed his thumb on your clit, creating small circular motions that had you crying out loud.

It felt like you had melted into the bed once your orgasm washed over you. He leaned closer, allowing you to wrap your arms around him while he continued fucking into you to chase his own release.

With your lips grazing his ear, your next words sent him over the edge, “please, Carlos, cum in me.”

He groaned as he came, attempting to muffle it as much as he could into the crook of your neck. A blurry haze clouded your vision and only when the tear fell, you had realized that you had cried in pleasure while chasing the feeling of your high, wanting it to last as long as possible.

You felt his cum painting your insides, unintentionally clenching that caused Carlos to let out another groan. “Do that again and I’ll never pull out,” he mumbled, only half joking since your cunt’s warmth was too inviting.

Wrapping your other leg around his waist to keep him inside you for a little longer, you responded, “that doesn’t sound too bad.”

He lifted his head, watching your tired out expression, the activities of the day finally catching up to you. He pressed a kiss against your cheek after wiping away your tears, moving on to your forehead and then claimed your lips with his.

He licked into your mouth, earning a guttural groan from you. Your legs had fallen to the side, not having enough strength to hold them up any longer.

Hissing when he pulled out, you let out a sharp gasp as he lightly spread your pussy to watch his cum mixed with yours leak out and stain the sheets underneath. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he muttered, mainly to himself as he gathered your mixed cum onto his fingers.

Your mouth dropped open as he brought his coated fingers near your mouth, sticking out your tongue to greedily suck them clean. He pressed another kiss on your cheek in appreciation, “such a good girl.”

Then, his lips grazed your ear, “I’ll go grab a towel.”

Only leaving the bed once you nodded, he quickly entered the bathroom and smiled once he saw his reflection in the mirror. His neck was covered in marks and his shoulders were covered in scratches left behind by your nails. Although he didn’t check, he knew that his back would’ve been in the same state.

Quickly returning to you, he cleaned you up and tossed the cum stained cloth on the floor among the other pieces of your clothing. You had a sleepy smile on your face during the entire process, mumbling a “congratulations on the win,” once he was hovering over you again.

“Thank you, cariño, I hope there will be many more to come.” Placing one last lingering kiss to your lips, he shuffled off the bed and began redressing himself.

You didn’t know when he left, as you had already fallen asleep while he was still in the room. He walked away with a satisfied smile on his face while removing the keycard belonging to his hotel room from the back pocket of his jeans, now assured that your room could in fact fit two people.

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#babyjr fic #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #f1 smut #smut #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #fanfic #fic series #formula one fic

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surielstea · 1 day

Text

Friends who Flirt

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Az have been flirting for years, what happens when they finally do something more?

8.3k words

I pad into the kitchen and am immediately met with a humming Azriel. Shadows swish around him as he goes about his daily tasks. His humming stops and I freeze, feeling like I've been caught for gazing for a moment too long to be considered friendly. "I can feel you staring, love." He croons, not even looking up from what he was doing. "How'd you know it was me?" I frown, crossing my arms.

"Your footsteps," He says, pushing a drawer shut with his hip as he turns to look at me, a slice of leftover cake from my birthday in his hands. "Creep." I joke, opening the drawer he just shut and fishing out a fork. "New nightgown?" He looks at me with creased brows. "Mhm, you like it?" I say doing a small twirl.

His eyes drag down the airy chiffon fabric, the baby blue color complimenting my complexion nicely, and the way the lace trim cups over my breasts don't go past his notice. He nods, eyes going back up to mine as I dig a fork into the cake he just sliced. He lets me— in fact, he lowers the plate so I can have a better angle.

"The shopkeeper gave it to me for free after I bought half her boutique for solstice presents," I explain. "It was pretty on the rack so why not." I shrug. "It's prettier on you." He hums and I flick my eyes up to him with a mouthful of cake. "How would you know, you didn't even get to see it on the rack?" I tilt my head and he shakes his. "I don't need to." He hums and I turn away from him with a heat rising to my cheeks. "Are you blushing?" He smiles teasingly and just as I am about to take another bite I freeze, then place my fork down. "I thought you'd be used to people calling you pretty by now? Or is it just me who affects you this way?" He presumes and I physically deflate, that he knows me too well to keep anything from him. "Can't I just go one day without you reading me like an open book?" I sigh, hoisting myself up onto the counter.

"Speaking of which, what'd I come in here for?" I look around the kitchen to get any clue but come up with nothing. I look at him and he shrugs with a mouthful of chocolate cake. "Can't you use your shadows to figure it out?" I swing my legs back and forth as they dangle. "That's not really how they work." He placed our dishes down into the sink, my eyes following him as he made his way in front of me. "Then, how do you gain information from people?" I ask, watching as his hands come to either side of my hips, caging me in between him and the counter. "I suppose I could interrogate it out of you?" He offers and I clench my legs together at the immediate sexual thoughts that pop into my head. "But my best guess is you came in here to get a glass of wine, as you always do before bed." He explains and my brows shoot up. "You're a genius," I smile brightly. I lean in and place a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Az," I exclaim and slide off the countertop.

"Anytime." He huffs a breath.

"Want a glass?" I offer as I open a cabinet full of wine glasses. He looks at his empty plate in the sink, then nods. "I'll cut some more cake."

———

Three glasses and two slices of cake later left me straddling Azriel's hips. I don't know exactly what happened, it was all a blur but what I do know now is that some selfish part of me doesn't regret it, and with the way the Shadow Singer was gazing at me it seemed he didn't either. Three glasses wasn't enough to get me fully intoxicated but, I was tipsy.

"Your eyes are so pretty," I observe, my hands cupping either side of his face as I angle it towards me drunkenly. "Like, super pretty." I smile and his cheeks go red. "You okay Az?" I ran my thumbs over his cheekbones so sharp they could cut stone. "I have a pretty girl sitting on my lap, complimenting my eyes. Why wouldn't I be okay?" He tilts his head. "Cause your heartbeat is so fast." I smile teasingly and he mirrors it. "So is yours."

His hand comes up and intertwines with the back of mine, pulling it away from his face while his other hand finds purchase at my thigh, bare due to the fact of my short nightgown riding up from this position. His gaze holds mine but he doesn't say anything, so neither do I. Something magnetic pulls me closer to him like we were meant to slot together. "This is dangerous," I mumble as my other hand snakes around to hold the back of his head. "I don't think you care that much." He hums. "You know me too well." I grin and he leans in, crashing his lips onto mine.

I melt into the feeling, hand shooting into his dark hair as both his arms secure around my waist and drag me into his chest. My hands roam from his neck down his shoulders, his tattooed biceps that flexed beneath my touch, the same ones I've stared at for years now, the same ones I've ached to get my hands on. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." He confesses, his voice raspy as he pulls at my chin and opens my mouth for better clearance. He's precise when pushing his tongue into my mouth, his movements are calculated and careful as he explores every crack he can mold to, analyzing and memorizing just in case this ends sooner than it should.

I buzz with need, I couldn't get close enough. Every part he didn't touch left me cold, and when he pulled away I was starved. His calloused, large hands map every inch of my skin, slipping beneath my dress to span the distance of my waist without barrier, pulling me into him with the same passion I felt burning through every nerve in my body. I smile against the electric pulse that darts through the both of us.

It just felt so right, like this was what we were made for. I felt like I was on fire, and it was his match that set me aflame.

The front door swings open, inviting the freezing air to enter. I tear away from Azriel at the intrusion and look up towards the doorway, where Morrigan stood, stunned.

A smirk etched across Azriel's lips as he leaned back into the couch, staring up at me still perched on his lap with glazed-over eyes and messy lipgloss. He was sitting there observing me caught red-handed like I was a statue he just finished sculpting. "I— I'm so sorry, I'll come back later!" Mor says, a bit frazzled as she tightens her scarf around her neck and turns on her heel, leaving the house.

I look back to Azriel with heated cheeks. "You heard her coming!" I grab a pillow and hit him repeatedly with it as he playfully pushes it away. "It's just Mor, what are you ashamed of kissing me?" He tilts his head and I drop the pillow. "I need to go get her and explain." I begin clambering from his lap but his big hands that still held my waist from beneath my dress forced me back down. "One more kiss before you go?" He flashed me a teasing smile, and to his shock, I leaned down and pecked his lips lightly in such a casual way it left the Shadow Singer dazed.

I successfully slipped off his lap, scrambling to grab my coat off the rack and shoving my arms through it as I left the cozy house and stepped onto the porch where Morrigan waited, hands shoved in her pockets. "What are you doing here so late?" I whisper shout to her and she whirls to face me with a wide-eyed expression. "You're the one who has explaining to do." She returned and my jaw clamps closed. "I was only stopping by to ask if you wanted to go to Rita's with me, but you're busy." She smiled teasingly and my cheeks flushed, I blame it on the cold weather. "It wasn't like that, we're drunk." I excuse. "And horny," I add and she deadpans. "You've also been flirting with him for years." She reasons. "I knew this would happen," She sings with a mischievous grin.

She had a point, the sexual tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife. "So, Rita's?" She brushed past the elephant in the room, sensing I wasn't ready to talk about it. "Maybe tomorrow, I'm going to bed." I huff. "Sure you are." She winks and I roll my eyes. "I'm picking you up tomorrow then, be ready— I don't want to walk in on anything my virgin eyes shouldn't be seeing." She joked and I playfully pushed her towards the steps down the house. "Have fun at Rita's, see you tomorrow." I giggle and she waves me off.

———

"Az?" I poke my head into the Shadow Singer's office only to find him hunched over a book with a crinkle between his dark brows. I smile and mosey into the room, heels lightly clicking against the hardwood floors as I find my way in front of him, my hip leaning against the desk. "Az," I call, putting a finger to the spine of his book and angling it downward so I could see his face. "I'm leaving, you sure you don't want to come with me?" I tilt my head and he shakes him, sinking deeper into his chair, wings fanning out on either side of him. "You sure you don't want to stay?" He offers and the tone of his voice makes it sound alluring. But I've been dying to get out of the house even since that kiss, he didn't mention it so I didn't either— but I didn't just want to ignore it, he felt what I did too, I know he did. He looks up at me and his book snaps shut, eyes widening slightly.

"You're wearing that?" He swallows.

"What's wrong with it?" I look down at the cerulean-colored dress that hugged my body in all the right places. His eyes narrow at me and he sits up. "It's a bit, short, no?" He tilts his head slightly, eyes tracking over my bare thighs and a smile curves my lips. “I’m wearing shorts,” I shrug and he twists his lips to the side, clearly upset at the idea of me flaunting in a dress so short without him there to make sure no one unwanted approached me. "It's a pleasure hall, I'll be one of the more covered ones old man," I excuse as I push off his desk and walk towards the door. "Wait," He springs up from his chair and meets me in the hall. "I'll go too— just, five minutes." He rushed down the hall and stumbled into his room.

I smile widely at the reaction, I always preferred when he went out with me. Pleasure halls and clubs were never my scene, Azriel might enjoy it more than me. If Mor hadn't asked me to come out tonight I probably would be snuggled up beside the fireplace with a steaming mug of tea and a good book. Whenever Azriel went to places like Rita's with me he was always a good escape plan. He was always there to take me home if I grew bored or tired. Always.

Exactly five minutes later Azriel came out of his room, appropriately dressed. "Ready?" I tilt my head, a lock of hair falling into my face at the movement. He eats up the distance between us in two long-legged strides. He nods, reaching forward and tucking my hair back behind my ear. "You look pretty." He said and I shyly smiled. "You don't clean up too badly yourself." I hum, looking up at him with wondering eyes. His gaze caught mine, that familiar hazel had something foreign lingering in them, something welcoming that I didn't quite recognize. His gaze, just for a moment, flicks down to my lips so fast I wouldn't have seen it if I blinked. But I did see it. I stumble a step closer, that magnetic feeling coming back but before I can get any closer the door swings open, and Morrigan stands there with a cunning smile. I whirl around to face her with pinched brows. "You need to learn how to knock," I sigh, walking towards the coat rack and shrugging my coat on. "I did?" She crossed her arms defensively. I look toward Azriel with a raised brow and he just shrugs silently.

"C'mon, I wanted to be there twenty minutes ago." She grabs my wrist and pulls me out onto the porch. I grab Azriel by the hem of his jacket and pull him with me. "We're on a schedule?" I mumble confused. "Emeries shift ends soon." She grabs Azriel's arm and winnows us without warning.

My head spins at the sudden jump in the atmosphere. The cold porch of my quiet neighborhood compared to the heat of the loud pleasure hall. A wave of nausea rolls over me and both of Azriel's hands come to my shoulders, steadying me before I can tip over. He doesn't say anything, he knows I just need a moment to collect myself. So he holds me near and away from drunken fae getting too close for his liking.

"You're okay?" He says over the blasting music and I look up to him. The flashing red and blue lights make him look angelic, gods he's so pretty— and I'm not drunk enough for this. "I think I need a drink," I say back and he nods, hands leaving my shoulders. "I can arrange that." Mor croons as she grabs me by the wrist and pulls me towards the bar.

The crowd parts in half for her, making a clear path to the bar with me in tow. She finds two vacant stools and quickly swoops them before anyone else can. Emerie walks over with a smile as she washes a glass. "What can I get for you ladies?" She sings. "Just get me what you usually get," I say to Mor and she nods. She and Emerie chat for a while then she orders. I rarely drank anything but wine— but that wasn't exactly a club drink.

Emerie slides some sort of cocktail in front of me and I thank her before lifting my glass and taking a small sip. I immediately wince and put the drink back down. "What's wrong?" Mor laughs as I force myself to swallow down the burning liquid. "Strong," I croak out and her smile only widens. "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't have ordered doubles." She shrugs and my brows shoot up. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" I scoff and she grins mischievously before slipping from her chair. "I'm gonna go dance." She evades and I roll my eyes as she leaves the seat next to me empty.

Cautiously, I take another small sip from my glass but it didn't magically get any better from last time so I set it back down and don't plan to pick it up again.

Azriel finds a place beside me on Mor's forgotten stool. I look over to him with a smile. "Already tired old man?" I tease, bumping his shoulder with mine. "What?" He creased his brows, clearly not able to hear me over the music. He leans closer, lowering his head. "I asked if you were tired already," I say over the music, then pull back to look at him. He smiles softly before putting his hand on the back of my neck and pulling me back towards him. "You keep calling me old but we're only like three years apart." He says and I shrug, leaning closer. "It's about the mindset," I say with a soft chuckle. He pulls back and looks at me confused. "I can't hear you," He yells over the music and I roll my eyes, leaning closer than before. "I said it's about the mindset," I repeat then pull back a mere inch, our faces centimeters apart and he stares at me, either trying to piece my words together or too distracted to think about anything because he wants to kiss me again, and gods was I praying it's the latter.

"You want to get out of here?" I ask with a tilt of my head. "You're not going to drink that?" He gestures to the cocktail in front of me and I shake my head no. "It tastes like rubbing alcohol and a squeeze of lime," I reply and a smile pulls at his lips. "We can open a bottle of wine at home." He offers and I nod. "You know me so well." I stand from my stool, I presume he doesn't hear me because he doesn't reply.

———

"Are you visiting your family in Autumn tomorrow?" Azriel asks as he refills my glass. "Unfortunately," I sigh, dreading seeing my parents again. "My brother is coming in the morning to winnow me there," I explain. I couldn't winnow to my childhood home by myself, it was warded so only people who lived there could enter. My father put that in place the day I left. "Why visit them?" He creased his brows and I shrug. "They're my family," I murmur, it's the only excuse I can manage to come up with. "You have a family here too." He reminds and a smile pulls at my lips. "I know," I take a small step closer to him. We stood in the kitchen beside the counter, the lighting dimmed and soft, the opposite energy of the pleasure hall. "But they let me live here on my own without ruling over my entire existence." I shrug. "I owe them a visit every few months." I finalize and he nods, not wanting to intervene any further.

"I'll be back by tomorrow night though," I smile up at him. "You won't have to suffer without me for too long." I tease before taking a sip of my wine. He raises a brow at me, clearly amused. "You're so annoying." He let out a breathless laugh. "That's not what you said last night," I quip, leaning back against the counter, pinned under his gaze as he looks down at me.

"Careful." He warns and the deep sound of his voice has my heart rate quickening. What is wrong with me? "You don't like the truth?" I hum, my bottom lip pinched beneath my teeth as I grin up at him. "Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you." His expression hardens. My smile doesn't even falter. "Is that a threat shadow singer?" I tilt my head tauntingly. He leans closer, his hands coming to the counter behind me and entrapping me between his arms.

"Do you want it to be?" His brow raises a fraction and my smile seems uncontrollable at this point. His eyes flick down to my lips then quickly back to my eyes. "I thought you liked my mouth?" I taunt. "Shut up already," He grumbles, hand coming to my neck before pressing his lips into mine.

I melt at the feeling I've been craving since I pulled away last night. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and lean into him. He manually angles my head so he can kiss me deeper, prying my mouth open with his tongue before sliding it in. I allow it, reveling in the feeling of his chest pressed against mine, his hands all over me, and his lips pressed into my mind. It felt unfamiliar, yet we slotted together like puzzle pieces. He filled me whole, his hands traveling down my waist to the bottoms of my thighs where he lifted me in his arms.

I tightened my grasp around him, my chest pressed to him as he carried me away from the kitchen. “I don’t want to ignore this,” I murmur against his lips. “I want you,” I confess and he smirks at the sound of desperation in my voice, making my cheeks flush. “I need you.” He hums and the knot in the base of my stomach tightens. I squeeze my legs around his torso and clutch him closer to me as I plant my lips over his again.

He walks us down the hall but I’m too preoccupied with his mouth to care where we’re going. He hums in approval when I bite at his lower lip, hungry for more. My back comes in contact with a wall and I immediately arch off of it and into his chest. One of his arms carried me while the other roamed up my body, my dress that had ridden up a noticeable amount due to the position. “Fuck me Az,” I hum greedily. He smiled against my lips and with one last peck he pulled away the slightest fraction. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say those words,” He purrs as he travels down my jaw, placing messy kisses down the column of my throat.

I tug at his shirt, needy for my skin to be pressed to his. I get the material up to his chest and my hands leave his shirt in favor of pressing them onto his exposed abdomen. “More,” I mumble dumbly and he latches down onto my neck in response, finding that sensitive spot and sucking, licking, nipping at it without hesitation. “Az,” I sigh out and he bites down hard enough to pierce the skin. I curse at the oddly arousing feeling and he pushes off the wall, carrying me towards his bed.

He lays me down, still hovering over me as he detaches from my neck, most definitely leaving a mark. He stands over me, looking down at my willing expression. I spread my legs further in a silent plea and a feline smirk spreads across his features. He discards his shirt and I nearly moan at the sight.

Large black wings fanning out behind him, the broadness of his shoulders, and the defined v-line at his hips make me ache. Gods, he was some sort of angel.

“Please,” I whisper as I watch him undo his belt, he doesn’t bother with his pants and takes his place over me, kissing up the valley of my breasts all the way to my lips. His large, scarred hand pushes up my tight dress. His hips settle between mine and I feel the hardness of him right against where I want him most. “Do you see what you do to me?” He said into the crook of my neck, slowly rutting his hips down onto my clothed folds. “Az,” I moan at the friction, hand coming into his hair and tangling into the dark locks.

“This dress, I wanted to rip it off you all night,” He confesses and a teasing smile pulls at my lips. “Then what are you waiting for?” I croon but don’t get a reply and instead, I’m met with a reading of fabric, the expensive dress torn in two and being discarded somewhere on the floor. “Fuck, you’re even more perfect than I imagined.” He hums as he leans up to take me in, lying under him clad in nothing but my underwear and a pair of spandex shorts. “You imagined this?” I tilt my head with a smile and he nods, leaning down and slanting his lips over mine. “Every night.” He hums as shadows swirl up my arms and wrap around my wrists, pulling them together and pinning them to the bed. I pull at them but to no avail, the darkness is much stronger. “Az c’mon,” I whine. “No baby, tonight’s all about you,” He says as he kisses down my neck and to my chest, taking my nipple into his mouth.

I moan at the sight, arching up for his access. I squirm as his hands meet my hips, pinning them down and stopping me from grinding against the air. I moan as he does something wicked with his tongue on my hardened bud, flicking and sucking on it. The sensitivity of it left me quivering.

He leaves my breast with one last swirl of his tongue and leisurely kisses past my ribs, to my navel, until his lips find the hem of my shorts. His hands are quick to discard them, joining my dress on the floor.

He continues his journey downward, two of his fingers hooking under the waistband of my panties. I can’t help but grind up at the sensation, mewling as I get a fraction of pleasure. “This is okay?” He hums and I nod. “I need words baby,” He presses a loving kiss to just above my undies. “Yes Az, please.” I consent and without any other words, he shreds my panties, tearing them into two as they fall off my thighs and the cold air hits my heat.

The smell of arousal doubles and he seems drunk on it. He leans down and licks one long stripe up my cunt, gaze pinned to me as he does so and I can’t help but maintain the eye-contact. “Fuck, baby you taste so good,” He praises, fingertips digging into my hips and I could tell he was constraining himself, holding back from how he truly wanted me. “More,” I pull at the shadows but they don’t give. “I need more,” I sigh and he obeys, live attaching over my clit and I gasped, his tongue teasingly tracing circles around the bud while he sucked on it.

One of his hands left my hips and traveled down past my thighs, two of his fingers dragging themselves through my sopping folds, coating them in his slick. “Az, I need you inside of me,” I whine as he slowly treks them down to my clenching entrance, tracing circles around the area. “Baby, you’re so wet f’ me,” He admires and I clench my eyes shut in embarrassment as I feel my arousal slip down my thighs. “All for you,” I murmur and that seems to push him over the edge because the next thing I know two of his long, thick fingers enter my craving cunt.

I cry out at the foreign stretch, his scared fingers brushing against my sensitive walls. The sensation left me grinding up onto his hand. He sucked harder on my clit and the mixture of both had a familiar coil beginning to grow in the pit of my stomach. His fingers curl teasingly slow, and as soon as he finds that sensitive spongy spot deep inside me he begins to toy with it, the sounds that escape me are unsolicited. “M’ close,” I huff out, head digging into the pillows as he lightly nips at my clit, making me scream in pure pleasure. “Cum for me love,” He whispers against my cunt, his breath fanning over my wet folds.

Then he reattaches and digs his tongue into the pink, sensitive bud, causing that coil to tighten and then snap.

A flood of white-hot pleasure consumes me, waves of ecstasy wash over me, leaving me flushed and covered in my fluids, and when I finish, it’s his name on my tongue, like it always was on those late nights when I had nothing but my own hand— but now he’s here with his tongue delving through my heat, completely entranced with me.

His fingers finally leave my cunt and he lifts away, licking his lips as to not waste a single drop of my release. His hips returned to mine, his heavy, hard cock pressing into my bare pussy and suddenly it was too much, overstimulation absorbing me as he thrashed his pants off and his hard member smacked up against his abdomen. My mouth waters at the sight of it, his tip red and leaking pre-cum down the side. I tug at the shadows binding me, wanting to touch him, to run my finger down the pulsing vein at its underside.

He tuts and presses it down onto the apex of my thighs. The heat between us was enough to light a furnace, gods he looked so perfect above me like this— and finally he had his cock lathering itself in my own fluidity. I moan as the head of it snags at my clit, his pre blending with my own juices. “Az please,” I whine out and he aligns himself with me, prodding at my entrance. We both watch as he pushes into me, his glistening cock slowly disappearing inside of me. I can’t watch for long, my body too focused on how it feels for me to be able to hold myself up. I squirmed as his wide cock pushed deep into me, and every time he entered another inch I moaned, my walls molding around him as he stretched me beyond capacity. Fuck, he’s so big. “Gods, your pretty pussy is sucking me in so good.” He grits out, white-knuckling the sheets beside my head as he refrains from slamming into me. This pace was just as painful as it was pleasurable, I couldn’t imagine what would happen if he went any faster.

He rolls his hips and in doing so enters another inch, I arch up and he goes deeper finding that familiar spongy spot, and I mewl. “There, please right there Az,” I cry out and he lets out a soft chuckle against my shoulder. “I’m barely halfway baby,” He purrs and my brows knot, how could he go any deeper? I didn’t have to wait long for the answer because before I knew it he slammed the rest of him inside of me, his tip brushing against my cervix, and the unknown yet stimulating feeling left me screaming out his name.

My nails dig into my palms as he pulls out then slams back home. His hips snapping to mine, his balls slapping against my ass. “Gods you take me so well,” He admires as tears spring to my eyes. Every time he brushed up against my cervix I couldn’t breathe, he was so fucking big. He continued to ruthlessly ram into me, his speed unmatched as he pounded past that sensitive point nestled inside of me and instead pushed to places where I’d never been touched before, and gods did I love every second of it.

“Feel good love?” He hums below my ear and I open my mouth to reply but words fail me and I can only moan, too fucked out for coherent sentences. He smiles and bites at my lobe, then presses a kiss just below it.

He continues to hammer into me while I pulse around him. “I’m so, so close,” I rasp out, my pussy raw and red as he abuses it. “So fucking tight,” He grunts as he tries to pull out but u are clenching around him too hard, sucking him back in, needy for all of him.

He slammed back in, his base brushing against my clit and that was enough for me to let go, my release coming over me full throttle as a euphoric sensation crashed down onto me, my pleasure blooming right where he was inside of me.

But once I come down from my high he doesn’t pull out, he continues slamming his tight balls into me, rolling his hips over mine. I whimper as the overstimulation consumes me, biting at my bottom lip to stop myself from crying, tears flowing down my cheeks but he doesn’t care, because I realize he isn’t an angel, no, he’s a fucking devil and he wasn’t going to stop pushing into me until his release was nestled deep inside me.

The shadows leave one of my hands, only so he can grab my wrist and guide my palm down my stomach until I can feel his cock moving inside of me. “Feel how deep I am?” He hums and I nod, too fucked out to conjure up any words. “Gods you’re such a good girl,” He praises, pulling me close as I arch into him. My now free hand comes to his back, scratching down his shoulders as my nails dig into his skin. He twitches inside of me, signaling that he’s close. He curses, not wanting this to end, but he can’t help but chase his high, somehow managing to go faster. His face falls into the crook of my shoulder and he kisses and bites at the area. “Az— Ah, too much,” I shake my head and he twitches. “Fuck, say my name again.” He sighs out. “Azriel,” I mewl, hand finding his hair and pulling at the loose curls. “Az, m’ close please,” I whine out, tears streaming down my face. “Me too love, me too.” He reassures and I nod with a whimper.

He slowly pulls out to his tip, only the head of his cock inside of me until suddenly he pushes back in, ramming into my cervix I bite down on my lip at the pleasure, and before I knot it the knot inside of me snaps and my eyes are rolling back as I finish for the third time tonight. I’m too drunk on my high to even register his warm release as it spurts into me, at my cervix, and straight to my womb. I sigh as I milk his cock of its fluids. He groaned out my name as he finished, his lips lining kisses up the side of my face as he muttered about how well I did for him.

After a moment of him nestled inside of me, he slowly pulled out, dragging moans from the base of my throat as he brushed against my over-sensitive walls. “My sweet girl,” He whispers, pecking my lips and I weakly kiss him back. Shadows unravel from my wrists and are free to move off my own volition, but I don’t, my high still lingering as his cum seeps out of my cunt.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He tilts his head and I nod. The bed dips as he gets up, puts a pair of sweats on then walks back over to me.

Gently he picked me up, carrying me bridal style to the connected bathroom where a basin of steaming water was already ready. He placed me down on the cool counter and I smiled as I watched him get a cloth and begin to wipe down my legs.

He was being so gentle not to spike my pleasure any further, cautiously wiping away at my inner thighs. I lean my head against his shoulder, too tired to sit up on my own. Shadows soothe my back, the coldness of them making me sigh in relief. “Stay here okay?” He hums as he puts the cloth back into the basin and I nod, I doubted I could walk if I tried.

He leaves the bathroom and is only gone for a few minutes before he returns with a pair of clothes. A soft smile spreads across my lips as he pulls the nightgown over my head. It was a soft, sheer chiffon the color of a pastel blue. He then hiked a pair of clean undies up my thighs then over my ass, cupping my sensitive heat.

His hands come to my waist and he lifts me, carrying me back to his bed. He places me down onto the soft mattress, the sheets cold as my head hits the pillow. He joins my side, pulling the blankets over the both of us. I flip around and look up at him, his sharp features seeming so gentle in this light. I bring my hand up and cup his neck, my thumb rubbing at his jaw.

He stares down at me with adoration and I grin, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. I wasn’t worried about what this made us, or what we were going to say in the morning. I was busy cherishing the way his strong arm came around my waist and he pulled me towards him, needing me closer. I wrap my arms around his neck and no words are spoken as we lay beside each other, occasionally pressing kisses to the other’s lips when impulsed, basking in each other’s warmth and affection.

———

I was still half asleep when I heard a door slam shut and I startled awake, launching upward. The hand around my waist slips down and I'm greeted with a groan of protest, that same arm pulling me down again. "Azriel someone's here," I say maneuvering out of his hold. "Your brother?" He mumbles and I gasp, quickly slipping from the bed as I curse myself for forgetting that he was coming today. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I repeat as I scramble for something that offers a little more coverage than my sheer nightgown.

I spot Azriel's plain black shirt hanging from the side of his desk chair and swipe it, pulling it over my head. "Come back to bed," Azriel groans, still half asleep. "Baby please," He whines when I ignore him. I throw a pillow at him and he startles upward. "My brother is here," I stress. "As in, probably walking down that hallway right now and I don't have pants, so where are my clothes," I say and he rubs his eyes. "Hamper." He points to the laundry basket and I fish through the clothes, finding my pair of shorts from last night and hiking them up my thighs.

I run my hands through my hair a few times and hope to the gods I look presentable enough to face my sibling.

I creak open the door softly, exiting into the hallway silently praying he doesn't spot me sneaking into my room. I'm quiet on my feet as I tiptoe to my bedroom, slipping in and closing the door behind me with a sigh of relief, then looking up and gasping when I spot my brother standing over my bed, my bed that clearly wasn't slept in last night. He looks to me with a quirked brow. "I was brushing my teeth," I gesture to the bathroom down the hall and he nods, taking in my appearance. "I'll be ready in ten minutes, I'm sorry, I slept through my alarm." I lie and he looks at me unimpressed. "It's fine, it's not like we're expected or anything." He snakily comments and I refrain from glaring at him and instead laugh at his sardonic joke. He leaves my room and I close the door behind him, quickly rushing over to my wardrobe. My legs were beyond sore but I pushed the pain aside. I found a day gown that was acceptable enough to wear to my parent's house and stripped out of my shorts and Azriel's baggy t-shirt before pulling the dress over my head while hobbling over to my vanity.

I was only going to brush my hair until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and decided just a brush wouldn't do. I tied my hair up in the easiest yet neatest style I could conjure. I was ready in less than five minutes and in all honestly, I was a little proud of myself.

I left my bedroom, expecting my brother to be waiting right by my door only he wasn't, he was nowhere to be seen in fact.

I wander down the hall. "I’m ready!" I call throughout the house but I get no reply. I call him again but, nothing. I pad into the kitchen and spot Azriel leaning over the counter, pouring himself a steaming cup of black coffee. "Where'd he go?" I murmur, mostly to myself but Azriel's shadows slip from his shoulders and run across the floor only to swirl up my ankles then zipping down the hall, leading me to who I was looking for.

I chase after them immediately, they traveled past my bedroom, and up the walls before curving into the creaked door of Azriel's bedroom. My heart rate picks up as I open the door wider and am met with my brother's unmistakable figure. "What are you doing in Azriel's room?" I demand and he stiffens, turning to me and revealing what he was holding up. "The better question is, what is your dress doing in Azriel's room?" He holds up the short, blue dress and I open my mouth to reply but I come up with nothing.

"Are you going to explain, or should I assume?" He tosses the dress back into the hamper, amused. I grit my teeth. "Why the hel are you going through his stuff?" I snarl and he shrugs. "Had a hunch," He explains and I deadpan. "And based on the smell in this room, I'd say I was right." He smiles down at me and I debate slapping him across the face. "Have fun explaining to mom and dad." He grins and my eyes widen. "No, wait—" I begin but he winnowed away.

Dread consumes me and I quickly winnow after him, my willpower taking me right to the porch of my childhood home halfway across Prythian.

There’s no getting in, the wards were too strong and I was far from a spell cleaver. So instead I bang on the door, balling my hands into fists as I shout through the door, two inches of wood holding me back from stopping my brother from spilling my whole life story.

It was highly frowned upon to share a bed with someone you're not married to in this area of the Autumn Court, especially with a race like Illyrians who seemed to have the exact opposite ideals as my parents. I wish I could say I didn't care what my parents thought of me but I do, anyone would.

"C'mon, open up!" I shout and before the side of my fist can come to contact the door again, it swings open. I freeze. What exactly is my excuse? I probably should've thought about what I was going to say before I tried to knock on the door. My brother was the one to open it, a smug smile on his lips as he moved out of the way to reveal both my parents staring down at me very disappointed.

"You have to let me explain," I enter the house. "We don't want to hear it." My father shakes his head. "We let you have your freedom in the night court but I won't allow you to whore yourself—" My mother begins. "I'm not whoring myself, it was one guy who I've known for over a decade," I explain and she squares her features. "Now you interrupt me? What have those brutes done to you?" Her hands come to my cheeks like I've been injured. "Nothing, mother." I swerve out of her touch. "And they aren't brutes. They’re kind people and if you had the decency to care you'd know that." I say and my father bristles. "How dare you? If we didn't care then you would've been abandoned in the streets decades ago." He claims and my heart crumbled. "You're cruel, all of you," I looked to my brother who was leaning against the bookcase, basking in the chaos he created. "I don't want to listen to your sob stories anymore," My mother put her hand up like she needed to physically stop me. "I've had enough of your, activities—" She says but I cut her off again, "I told you, I've known this guy for years," I stress. "Then I suppose you'll have no problems marrying him." She crossed her arms and I looked at her like she's gone insane. She can't be serious, right?

"What?" I say as if I've misheard her. "You know it's disgraceful to copulate outside of wedlock," She begins. "So this male must atone for stripping you of your purity." My mother reasons. My jaw nearly drops. Strip me of my purity? "If you think he's the first male I've been with you're sorely mistaken." I nearly laugh. "Well I'm sick of it, it's improper and I won't allow my daughter to be a common whore so you either marry him or I don't ever want to see you in this court again." My father bellows over the both of us and I look up at him, his eyes the same as mine. I struggle to maintain steady breathing, they can't mean that. Abandon their only daughter?

I look at my brother. This is what he wanted. He's always been the favorite, the golden child who's never had to struggle a day in his life because his mommy was always there to patch him up when he fell. I grit my teeth and decide that replying with every rageful thought I could think of wouldn't help the situation. So instead, I spin on my heel and march past my brother, towards the front door.

I grab the doorknob but before I leave I turn and look at all three of them.

"I'll see you at the reception." I hum, then turn back and slam the door hard enough behind me to knock books off shelves.

———

When I got back to the house, to my house, I finally regained control of my breathing. I open the door and slam it shut behind me, anger still pent up at my fingertips. I spot Azriel, who had frozen in the middle of the living room as if he was in the middle of pacing back and forth. "What happened? What'd they say?" He immediately questions, taking a step closer to me. My eyes fog over. Not only because I was upset about the predicament but the fact that he was wrapped up in all of this too. I assume his shadows filled him in on what happened before I winnowed away without saying goodbye.

I stay quiet and look to the ground where Shadows pool at my feet, flicking up and occasionally twining around my ankle. "Hey, we don't have to talk about it." He reaches out and grabs both of my hands in his and I wish the touch wasn't as comforting as it was, wish I could find a reason to be upset about the idea of marrying him. I didn't want to give them what they wanted.

"They," I begin but can't seem to get the words out without a lump forming in the base of my throat. "They said they're sick of me, whoring myself around," I mutter with an exhausted expression evident in my creased brows and slumped shoulders. "Whoring yourself? That's ridiculous my love you're not—" He starts. "I know," I pull him closer and wrap my arms around his torso. It seemed so intimate but if there's one thing in this world that I could rely on to make me feel better, it was Azriel's hugs. He was warm and strong and embraced me like he needed to show me his love in a way I couldn't describe.

"They want me to marry you," I whisper and his reassuring rubs on my back halt. I flinch, this is exactly what I didn't want— but his soothing ministrations quickly return after a moment so I continue to explain. “They seem to think I'm going to become a prostitute if I don't get married soon," I say, pulling back slightly and looking up at him.

"And if you don't?" He narrows his brows, mind already working to fix this. "Then they'll disown me," I mutter, letting go of him and bringing my hands up to my face. "I just— I don't know what to do," I speak into my hands. "Marrying you after spending one night together is barbaric, but that doesn't mean I never want to see my family again." I reason, my hands coming down to my sides so I can look at him. "They might be hard on me but, they're still my parents. They raised me. You can't just ignore that," I begin to ramble and his hands find my cheeks, making me slow down.

"And, obviously I want to marry you but that's not something I can force you into," I sigh and his brows rise a fraction. I wait for him to say something, anything. I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

Instead of any words he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips that I return without a second thought, so easy it's like we've been together for years. "I want to marry you." He claims against my lips and the tightness in my chest lessens. "I planned on doing it eventually, what's a little earlier?" He hums and butterflies soar in my stomach. "I just wish it was up to us," I murmur. "I know baby, I know." He presses his lips to mine once again and I melt into it. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and pull him closer. There was nothing lustful or hungry about it. It was sweet and soft and innocent, nothing like last night. He cradled my jaw with a gentleness I didn't know the Shadow Singer possessed and kissed me with such precision that I found myself falling into it. Somehow he managed to comfort me through the action, making me feel like this marriage would go just fine. I drag my hands down his arms up to his wrists and pull his touch away, then pull my lips away.

"C'mon, we've got a wedding to plan."

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my-castles-crumbling · 2 days

Text

In lieu of a jegulus microfic, a classic trope...

Regulus doesn't drink.

Not enough to make him lose control, anyway.

So when James finds him half-passed out on the couch in the Slytherin Common Room, a party still raging around him, he is immediately concerned.

"Regulus?" he asks, hand coming to rest on the younger boy's shoulder hesitantly.

He's nervous to touch him. They've been skirting around each other for months- yelling at each other on the Quidditch Pitch but sharing heated glances in the hallway. When they are together, he feels like he never has with anyone else. Sometimes it may be angry emotions, but all of his emotions for Regulus are so intense. He could watch the smart, sarcastic, beautiful Slytherin all day.

He wants to touch him, to pull him into alcoves and snog him senseless, to walk around school with their hands linked, to show they belong together.

But Regulus is infuriatingly hard to read. Sometimes James can swear there's a flash of something in Regulus's eyes; something like affection, or -dare he say- attraction. But the next second it's always gone.

So he pines from afar.

But now, he feels the need to protect Regulus in his vulnerable state. So he shakes him a bit and asks again, "Reggie? Are you-"

The other boy groans and half-opens one eye. "M'fine. Sleeping," he mumbles, looking so adorably grumpy that James wants to laugh.

"How about we bring you up to bed?" James asks, slowly guiding the very inebriated boy to his feet.

But suddenly Regulus grabs on his shoulder, eyes still squinted and whispers into his shoulder, "....James...James's not see m'like this, right?"

James freezes, confused.

"He can't s'me like this," Regulus continues to whisper into his ear. "I fancy'm too much. Th'stup'd fit prick."

But before James can answer, Barty appears, grabbing at Regulus's arm and looping it over his shoulder. "Alright, Reg, bedtime!" he chirps, grinning. "Thanks for getting him up, James!"

And they disappear, leaving a grinning James behind.

Because Regulus said he fancied him.

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justagalwhowrites · 2 days

Text

Undone

After a stressful week at the office, Joel knows just how to take care of his wife. AKA Joel Miller doms the stress out of you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: No Outbreak AU. Established relationship, husband and wife. Dom!Joel x Sub!Reader (light). Tiny little age gap (like 5 years? I'm picturing Joel at 44 and reader at 39?) Unprotected P in V sex. Oral sex, F receiving. Creampie. Overstimulation. Aftercare.

Length: 5.4k

A/N: This is totally self indulgent. It's also like... entirely smut. Sorry. But not really. OK love you bye!

Joel knew what you were after the minute you kicked the door closed.

It was Friday and it had been a hell of a week for you. Joel had done his best to support you through it - he’d finished up one big job on Tuesday and didn’t start the next one until Monday - so he’d taken the lead on keeping the household running while you put in extra hours and came home frustrated and exhausted every night.

He knew it wasn’t going to magically be better just because it was Friday, so he’d spent the day trying to make the end to your work week as good as he could. He went to the HEB and got your favorite snacks, picked out flowers for the kitchen table, even went by the liquor store on the way home to get everything you’d need to unwind at the end of your day. He started smoking ribs early that afternoon and was outside to sauce them when he heard the door slam behind you.

Joel didn’t need to see what happened, he knew from the sound that you’d thrown the door open and then kicked it shut behind you. He’d bet the check from his next job that you’d be face down on the couch, your shoes and briefcase a little trail from the front door to the living room. He shook his head, taking a swig of Shiner before closing the smoker and heading inside to find his wife.

You were exactly where he thought you’d be, taking up almost the entire length of the couch, flat on your stomach, blazer still on but your heels and bags scattered between you and the front door.

“Aw baby,” he said sympathetically. “That great a day, hm?”

You made a sound that was caught somewhere between a grunt and a groan.

“Want to talk about it?”

You made the sound again and Joel tried not to laugh at it.

“Here,” he said, coming and adjusting your legs so he could sit beside you on the couch. You groaned as he did but he guided you from lying on your stomach to sitting up to leaning on him, your face in his chest. He put his arm around you and gave you a squeeze. “Tell me what melted down.”

“We have our quarterly earnings release going out in less than two weeks,” you sighed. “And it’s a shit show. Legal’s been reviewing that shit for what feels like an eternity and I need to issue the goddamn release announcing the date of the full release but I can’t do that until I actually know that legal and financial are going to have stuff sorted in time and the CEO has emailed me twice a day about it the whole week because sure, the legal team definitely falls under my department…”

Joel held the still mostly full bottle of beer in front of you and you took it from him, your fingers brushing his and you were quiet for a moment as you took a sip before handing it back.

“Also, HR is going to be the death of me,” you continued, on a tear now. “I swear, it shouldn’t be that hard to find a qualified entry level candidate but here we are, still short staffed 10 weeks after I got the OK to hire. They’ve sent me two resumes, Joel. Two. I called them today to ask how many they’d received and they’ve had 226 candidates apply and they’ve sent me fucking two! I refuse to believe that just one percent of applicants were remotely qualified so I asked them to forward me all the applications since, apparently, recruiting can’t do their damn jobs so I’m going to have to do it for them…”

Joel nodded along, handing you the beer periodically when he felt you getting too worked up. He found himself, not for the first time, awed by what you did for a living. He didn’t understand much of it, really, and he was thankful he didn’t need to. He wasn’t cut out for that kind of shit. You, on the other hand, had jumped in with both feet when you’d started at your company seven years ago when the two of you had just started dating, You’d risen up the ranks quickly and you now had a team of several dozen people reporting up to you. As gentle and sweet as Joel knew you to be at your core, he knew you were also unflinchingly driven at work. During the COVID shut down, he’d gotten a glimpse of it, listening to you take people - mostly men who seemed to think you weren’t as capable as you clearly were - to task and get things done. He was eternally grateful that, when the two of you fought, you didn’t take him down the way you did people who crossed you in the office. Though that stood in sharp contrast to how Joel heard you talk to the people who reported up to you, with you seemingly always happy to lend an ear or provide guidance or take the heat if they fucked something up that was going outside your department.

Unfortunately, that meant you had weeks like this one, where plenty went wrong and you had no one to pass the buck to. And he knew as well as you did that you wouldn’t just let something fall apart, not if there was a damn thing you could do about it. Even if that meant working yourself into the ground.

After a while you just deflated against him and he handed you the beer again. You took a long drink, emptying the bottle, and Joel took it from you to set on the side table.

“Feelin’ better?” He asked, his nose brushing your hair.

“Kind of,” you sighed, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Somethin’ more I can do?” He asked, trying to make sure that he wasn’t nudging you in the direction he was hoping this would go.

“Yeah,” you said, something shifting in your tone when you said it. No longer frustrated and fed up, instead needy and wanting. You sat up from him and looked at him through your eyelashes, practically pouting. “Turn my brain off for a bit?”

Joel’s heart picked up, heat and tension already gathering low in him.

“Aw, my baby need me to fuck her stupid?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face in his hand. His thumb traced along the arch of your cheekbone as his eyes locked on your blown pupils. “You need me to make that big brain of yours slow down for a while, that it?”

“Yes please,” you breathed. He could feel your skin getting warmer below his touch.

“Please what?”

“Please sir,” you said, holding your hands up with your wrists together, like an offering. “Please fuck me stupid. Please sir.”

He quirked his jaw before he smiled, dark and low.

“Good girl,” he growled. He got up and closed his large hands around your wrists before pulling you sharply to your feet, looking you up and down as he did. There was something that drove him wild, seeing you like this. Dressed in your armor of the business world, a place where lesser men had to go to you for permission to do a goddamn thing, and you came home to him, begging him to strip you down to something small and vulnerable and easily consumed.

He wasn’t sure why you’d picked him of all people. When you’d met almost eight years earlier, his first thought was that you were way out of his fucking league. A friend of Tommy’s then girlfriend now wife, you were a few years younger than him but had clearly kept your life on the right fucking track the whole time instead of driving it into the ground for a while first. You’d gone to college, built a damn impressive career, had goals and dreams and plans for yourself. You were beautiful and smart and funny and kind and the first time he’d taken your clothes off he was still not entirely sure why you were letting him do it.

He’d been even more surprised the first time you’d shared with him that you wanted him to take control in the way he was now.

“I just have to make decisions all the time,” you’d said, folded into a corner of his couch with a glass of wine in your hands. “I just really want to have someone else take over for a while, you know? Not have to make any plans or take care of anybody else, just enjoy and be enjoyed.”

That, Joel had thought, he could give you.

It wasn’t something the two of you always indulged in but there were days like this one where you seemed to crave it. Maybe even a step beyond that - you needed it. You needed the safety of Joel’s guidance, the comfort of his control, the ease of his pleasure. He liked to give you those things. More than liked it, sometimes he lived for it.

Today was one of those days.

He led you to the bedroom and stood you at the foot of the bed, your wrists still firmly in his hands as his eyes searched yours.

“You just want to be my little doll, is that it?” He asked, his thumbs brushing the inside of your wrists. Your pulse was heavy and hard. “Want me to take control so all you have to do is feel what I let you feel?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Yes what.”

“Yes sir,” you were practically squirming.

“What are your colors,” he said more than asked.

“Green, yellow, red,” you answered quickly.

“Where are you now?”

“Green.”

“Good girl,” he guided your hands so they hung at your sides. “Don’t move until I tell you.”

He watched you resist the urge to nod and he slipped his hands below the lapels of your jacket, running his hands over your skin for a moment before shoving the sleeves down your arms and leaving the blazer in a pile on the floor. He watched you swallow, your throat working and he tried not to think about making you kneel and taking his cock into that pretty throat of yours. He knew just how good it would feel while you sucked him, how fucking good it would feel to come down your throat.

Maybe later. Right now, he needed to take care of you. And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

***

When Joel touched you like this, it was like something unspooled inside yourself. There had been a knot in your stomach for days at least - maybe longer - and nothing had worked to untangle it. Not crossing things off your to do list at the office, not the yoga class you’d skipped lunch to take, not the iced latte your assistant had ducked out to grab you that afternoon. But Joel’s hands on your skin as they slipped the slender straps of your satin top down your arms were better than anything else, especially when your mind wasn’t going a mile a minute thinking of ways to please him in return. You watched as he moved to undress you, his eyes heavy and hot and hungry as your top pooled around your hips. He reached around your body to unhook your bra, casting it aside before cupping your breasts in his large palms, groaning as he did.

“You feel so good,” his thumbs brushed your nipples. “My soft, pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch him. He’d told you to stay still and you had to obey. If you didn’t, you knew he’d drag out your first orgasm for what felt like an eternity, bringing you just to the edge of it but never letting you fall into your climax until you were a desperate, dripping, squirming mess.

“What, baby?” He almost cooed at you, just a hint of a teasing edge to his tone. “What’s my baby need?”

“More,” you whined. “I need more, please, I need…”

He took his hands off you then and looked you in the eye and you almost reached for him before you caught yourself.

“Who decides what you need right now,” he said. You moaned and he ignored you. “Who. Tell me, pretty girl.”

“You,” you said.

“That’s right,” he nodded. “And I’ll give you more when I decide you need more and I decide I’m done enjoyin’ the parts of you I’m enjoyin’ right now. So. You stand still like a good little doll and we’ll see when I’ll let you have more. Got it?”

“Yes,” you said.

He took your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“Yes what.”

“Yes sir.”

His crooked smile dimpled his cheek.

“Good girl.”

He returned to touching you, running his large and callused hands over your shoulders to your chest, holding and massaging your breasts and you could tell he was taking his time less for himself and more because he knew what it was doing to you. That it was making you achy and desperate and the thoughts that had been weighing on you all day at the office were slipping out of your mind, drifting far away into the ether.

“Think I remember you sayin’ something about more?” Joel said, his voice low and gravelly as his hand slipped over your stomach, below the bunched fabric of your shirt, below the waistband of your pants until his fingertips were brushing your bare mound inside your panties. You whimpered. “How about I give you some more, hm?”

His index finger reached out and brushed the top of your clit, sending a shiver through you, all the heat you had inside yourself pooling low in your stomach.

Joel chuckled.

“Think she likes it.”

He pressed a little lower, a little firmer, working your sensitive nub in slow, languid circles.

“She like this too?”

You nodded frantically.

“Thought I told you not to move,” Joel said, stern.

“But…”

“No buts,” he cut you off. “You wanted to give me control so you give me control. Otherwise, you won’t get what you want. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re lucky,” he said as he went to open your pants. “Got me all worked up, too. Too worked up to draw this out the way you deserve, squirmin’ the way you are.”

He got on his knees in front of you and gathered the fabric of your shirt, pants and underwear in his hands and pulled them all down in one go, the sudden exposure of your skin to the air making you gasp and goosebumps scatter over you in sharp little pin pricks.

“Fuck, there you are,” he groaned, his hands coming to grip the thick swell of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat of you as he pressed a kiss to your stomach just below your belly button. You moaned, wanting nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his curls. You clenched your fists tighter, nails digging into your palms, acutely aware of where he was touching you because of the absence of him everywhere else.

He trailed his mouth down to your slit, his tongue dipping into you there, brushing against your clit, the heat of his mouth in sharp contrast to the cold air against your wetness. His hands slipped up your back, finding your waist before Joel stood, his still clothed body so close to your naked one.

“Lie down for me,” he said, a little breathless. “Middle of the bed.”

You rushed to obey and watched hungrily as Joel undressed himself, his black t-shirt coming up and over his head, his jeans opening to reveal his tight boxer briefs with his thick, hard cock straining the fabric. He took off everything before crawling up the bed over you and, for half a moment, you thought he really was going to give into you that quickly, give you exactly what you wanted that fast. But instead of settling between your thighs with his heavy length brushing against your slit and his mouth on yours, he fell to the side of you, the weight of him jostling the mattress. You turned your head to look at him, confused, and he laughed, dark and low.

“You didn’t think you were gonna make me give in that fast, did you?” He asked. He slid one arm below your ribs, his hand coming up and around the back of you to hold your breast while his other hand teased a feather light path down from your throat, over your chest, your stomach to your slit. “No, not done with this yet.”

“But…”

“You just lie still and let me worship you,” he said, his palm cupping your mound, his middle finger settling between your lower lips as he put gentle pressure against your clit. The tip of his finger circled your dripping entrance but didn’t slip inside where you were aching and desperate for him. “Want to enjoy you for a while.”

He didn’t give you a chance to protest, his mouth finding just the right spot on your throat at the same moment he added pressure to your clit, grinding his hand against your most tender place and making your back arch below his touch.

Joel kissed and licked and sucked along your neck, your collarbone, your breast, his cock brushing against your thigh as he manipulated your body and you could feel his precome on your skin when it did and you were desperate to touch him there, to feel just how hard you’d made him, make him start to unravel the way he was doing to you.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, a finger sliding inside of you, making you groan.

“But I want…”

He pulled back from you to look in your eyes and you could tell from the glassy look on his face that you probably already looked like a fucked out mess.

“You tryin’ to make me feel good or you want it for yourself?” He asked, brows raised. You tried to find the words but couldn’t. He nodded. “S’what I thought, you sit still like I fuckin’ told you. You try to touch me and I won’t let you come, got it? This is about you, not me so you’re gonna lay there and take it, understand?”

“Yes sir,” you whimpered.

He went back to working you over, adjusting so that he could fully kiss down your body until his head was between your thighs, two fingers buried inside of you as he looked up your body to your face.

“New rules,” he said, pressing his lips to your clit for a moment and sucking it into his mouth before continuing. “Want you to come and I want you to come hard. You’re allowed to touch my head to put me where you need but you do anything else with those hands and we’re startin’ over. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

He practically dove into your pussy, his thumb working your clit, his tongue licking deep into your channel. The fire in your belly burned brighter and it was like you could feel all the blood in your body pulling into the center of you. Your hands flew to his head, the thick of his hair and the heat of his scalp almost sharp against your fingers after having felt nothing but your own palms for what felt like forever. You rocked your hips against his face as he ate at you, a finger slipping into you alongside his tongue, working the inside of you deftly so that you were never empty but never lacking the friction of him moving in you. His fingertip curled into the soft, sensitive place inside of you that he found so easily now, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his thumb and nose worked your clit and you felt your pussy get so tight and hot you worried, for half a second, that it would hurt him before every worry flew out of your head entirely, your entire body flooded with waves of pleasure as you came on his tongue.

Joel worked you through your orgasm, never letting up as you moaned and panted, your grip on his hair easing as your body started to go limp. Your pussy was so sensitive when your climax eased but Joel didn’t pay your little whimpers any mind. He pulled his mouth from you but added another finger, fucking into you with his hand and adjusting so his palm was grinding against your clit as he did.

“There you go,” he panted, wiping your slick from his mouth before taking his cock in his hand and working himself with it. “That what you needed, pretty girl?”

“Yes sir,” you whimpered.

“Good,” he said, his eyes ranging over you, dark and hot. “Because now it’s my turn.”

He pulled his fingers from you and spread your thighs a little wider, lining his cock up with your still weakly grasping hole for half a moment before thrusting deep into you in one devastating go. You gasped at the stretch of him filling you like that, the inside of you still soft and tender from your orgasm. Your fingers scrambled at the blanket below you, your back arched and taut and you tried to hold onto something - anything - in your head beside how he was splitting you open.

“I say you could use your hands like that?” He asked, his fingers finding your wrists and clamping around them. He pressed deep inside you and folded over you, bringing your hands with him, pressing your wrists down into the mattress over your head. “Didn’t think so. You’re my little doll right now, ain’t you? Mine to do what I want with and I want you to take it.”

“Joel,” you whimpered.

“That ain’t my name right now, is it?”

“Sir,” you corrected, resisting the urge to rock your hips up against him. “Please!”

“Please what?”

You couldn’t put words to what you wanted to ask for and Joel just smirked before releasing your wrists and sitting up, looking down over your body to where he disappeared inside of it.

“What I thought,” he said, his hands pressing your thighs wide before his thumb trailed over where you were split open on him to your clit, teasing you in a slow circle that made you jerk involuntarily below him. He took it away, his hand on the soft flesh of your thigh again. “You leave those hands there and take it. You can take it, pretty girl. Know you can.”

With that, he pulled back, slow and aching, before fucking back into you, hard and fast with a forceful grunt. You watched him fuck you, his cock slamming into you with enough force that it jerked your body up and down the bed. You were lost in it, the way you could see his muscles flex, the way his eyes ranged over you - watching the place he was spreading you open and the way your tits bounced for him and up to your face to meet your eyes and back again. It was almost hypnotic, like there was nothing else in the world that existed outside of him. He was controlling you totally, fucking into you with enough force that you couldn’t even breathe out of sync with his thrusts, your body just something he could manipulate and pleasure and use however he saw fit.

You weren’t sure how long he fucked you like that before his hands ran over your thighs to your core, his thumbs brushing along your clit, pressing into you there and working you in hard little circles as your channel started to tighten around him again.

“There we go,” he panted. “Got another one right there don’t you? You’re gonna give it to me, aren’t you pretty girl. Gonna give me everything, ain’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you whined, your fingernails digging into your palms as you fought to keep your hands still.

“Good girl,” he pressed himself deep as he worked your clit and returned to his same punishing rhythm, the head of him finding the place inside you he’d claimed for himself. He left one thumb on your clit, his other hand stretching up and over your stomach, fingers splaying wide on you until it was in the middle of your chest where you knew he could feel how your heart was pounding behind your ribs. The feel of him everywhere was overwhelming, the tight spool of pleasure that had never fully relaxed after your first orgasm already wound unbearably tight again.

“Want you to come for me,” he said, voice needy. “Want you to be a good girl and come. Give it all to me, baby, want you to just let go and give it all to me, let it all go, c’mon and come for me, make me fuckin’ feel it…”

You cried out as you obeyed, your channel fluttering over his cock as he kept fucking you deep and hard. You could feel your orgasm in the very center of you, in every muscle and every nerve, your climax taking hold of you so firmly that you felt a gush of liquid rush out of you.

“Fuck, there you go,” he said, not letting up. “Fuck baby, love when you squirt for me, such a good fuckin’ girl…”

The wet snap of his hips into you was obscene and, as your orgasm eased, your body was already drawing tight again. Your heart raced and you could feel everything, everything, so sharp and harsh and overwhelming. Your head swam, your skin prickled.

“Love feeling you come for me,” Joel was still fucking into you, hard and bruising like he was trying to climb inside your skin and claim a place for himself there. “Love when you get all tight and desperate, love making you all needy…”

You let out a fucked out little whimper, tears pricking at your eyes, not able to see straight through the haze of your already building orgasm. Joel leaned over you, his cock buried deep but going still.

“You with me, pretty girl?” He asked, his hands sliding up your arms to find your wrists, holding you gently in place. You couldn’t seem to find the words to answer, too overstimulated to think of anything beyond how he was filling you and surrounding you. “Gimme a color, baby.”

“Yellow,” you managed.

He took your limp wrists in his large palms and guided your hands to his skin, resting them on his broad shoulders.

“That help?” He asked. “You can nod.”

You nodded quickly, your breathing evening out, body still tight and strung out.

“Color?”

“Green,” you said, the tears that were in your eyes slipping down your cheeks but not being replaced by new ones.

“Good,” he shifted inside you, pulling back a little before thrusting in again. “Because I ain’t done with you yet. You keep those hands right where I put ‘em and just focus on coming one more time for me, need you to milk me dry, baby.”

But his pace eased, less frantic and more desperate, working you slow and firm from within. He buried his face into your neck, his mouth finding that place that sent shocks of pleasure through your whole body. His hands ranged over you, fingers hungry and grasping at your skin, his hips working against your clit as his cock found its home deep within you.

“Know you’re close,” he said against your skin, lips still close enough to brush against you as he spoke. He kissed along your neck, nose teasing along your throat. “You got one more in you, baby, I know you do.”

“Sir,” you whimpered, pleading, not sure if you wanted to come or wanted to just dissolve.

“You can come,” he fucked you slow and deep. His public bone pressed against your clit and your back arched. “Want you to come, want to feel you come. Make me feel you, baby. Be a good girl and make me feel you.”

You dared to let yourself move, just enough that you could rock your hips up against him, working yourself with his body as you felt him grow impossibly thicker and harder inside you. Or, maybe, you were just tightening further around him, body clinging to him in one last desperate push for closeness as your climax hit again. You cried out with it and you couldn’t just leave your hands on Joel’s shoulders, instead latching onto his hair and sliding down his back, pulling him flush against your body so the only thing left in the world was him and his skin and the thick of his cock as he started to pulse inside of you.

Your orgasm almost hurt it was so intense. You could feel every inch of Joel’s cock in you, the heat and softness of his skin against you, every muscle in your body going rigid and tense for a moment before relaxing. Your vision went spotty and you got light headed and you lost track of time.

The next thing you knew, you were in Joel’s arms, cradled against his chest, his fingers trailing a gentle path along the edge of your hairline and jaw, thumb brushing the plush of your lips.

“There you are,” he said softly and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his large hand coming to rest against your cheek as you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were soft and warm and there was a gentle smile on his face. “How are you feelin’ love?”

You took stock of your body for a moment, everything feeling light and airy.

“I’m good,” you smiled a little.

“Yeah?” He said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Take a deep breath for me, OK?”

You nodded a little and did as you were told, only realizing then just how little your lungs had been inflating before.

“How’s that feelin’?” He asked. “Good?”

You just nodded, still smiling.

“How about this for the night,” he said, going back to tracing an easy trail over your skin with his fingertips. “In a few minutes, I get up and get you water and a cocktail while you put on that pretty little swimsuit of yours. You float in the water while I look at ya and finish those ribs in the smoker…”

“You’re making me ribs?” You almost pouted, your brows going up.

Joel chuckled.

“Yeah, that OK?”

“That’s my favorite,” you said, feeling like you might be about to cry.

“I know it is, baby,” he said, kissing your temple again. “S’why I made ‘em. Got that potato salad you like, green beans, cornbread too. Even got that chocolate cake you like so much…”

“The Oreo one?” You sniffed, tearing up.

“The Oreo one,” he brushed your hair back. “You still with me there baby?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, crying a little. You weren’t entirely sure why, just every emotion you’d had over the past week seeming to bubble up at once. “I think so…”

“You’re OK,” Joel said, pulling you closer, his lips gentle on your skin. “I’ve got you.”

You just nodded against him and focused on how his skin felt on yours, his warmth and strength grounding while your mind was still swimming.

“What about after dinner?” You sniffed.

“We can watch one of those movies you like so much,” he said. “I know the ones that’ve been on your list, you don’t gotta pick unless you want to. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “But… can we just stay here for a little while first? Please?”

“Course baby,” he said. “Whatever you need. I’ll take care of you.”

You nuzzled into his skin and breathed deep and you didn’t really know why you’d been so stressed when you got home to begin with. You just knew that you had Joel and that, as long as he was there, everything else would be OK.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic #dom!joel miller

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