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#it was nice. and like. stupidly sweet
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the forbidden love doomed narrative of it all (me and the cute guy i met in exam hall)
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the idiot who invented barbecues is the stupidest moron who ever lived.
eating greasy food and drinking sugary drinks outside while it's hot and sunny?
yeah...ya know what's not fun? trying to eat your food while being goddamned attacked by flying little yellow war vessels.
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imsilay · 8 months
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LETHAL
NSFW! mdni, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging, stalker!König, obsessive König (idk lmk if i forget anything)
word count: 1.5k
summary: he was picky and he picked you.
next chapter here
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art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt
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You were doing the dishes as he was watching you from the apartment building next door which had a wonderful view of your bedroom and kitchen. He had seen enough to know many things about you and your life. You left your house at 10 AM every day and returned at 8 PM. You were a homebody, never wanting to leave your home aside from work and you only had your cat for company. You lived alone in a nice house and didn't often have friends over. He couldn't see any guys when your friends came by, meaning you were single, perfect.
He could even hear the music you were playing while doing the dishes. Your delicious-looking lips moved in time with the song, mumbling the lyrics. He couldn't tear his eyes off your lips. Focusing on them and imagining how they would taste. Perhaps blackberry? He had seen the lip balm you bought a few days before when you complained about how dry your lips were in the winter. Would you let him taste it and find out? Would you even look at him after discovering what he did?
His thoughts were cut off when you finished cleaning the dishes and embraced your cat, it was bed time. His gaze was glued on your back as you left the kitchen and disappeared into your living room, and then reappeared in your bedroom. He knew every part of your house. His heart raced when you put the cat down on your bed and then began removing your shirt revealing the curves of your body and the black bra he was stupidly fond of. He moved closer to the window without realizing it. Crossing his arms to stop the aching feeling to touch your smooth skin, his fingers dug into his arms when you finally tossed the shirt somewhere in your room, probably onto the chair, and then threw yourself onto your mattress.
Yawning and getting comfortable with your cat, it purred and get its place next to you. He wishes it was him… Curling next to you falling asleep with the warmth of your body. But it was impossible, cause he was just your sweet neighbor that you only had small chats, cause he was fucking massive and probably would take the majority of the space of your bed. You eventually fell asleep, he checked his watch. Just in time.
Well maybe it wasn’t that impossible…
He continued his observation for a few more minutes but he was unable to contain himself anymore. He had to be with you. He had to feel you, your body, your hair, the curve of your waist and hips. He wanted to touch your lips, but he was afraid that if he kissed you he would just get lost into them and fuck you there.
He shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts before they got dirtier. He grabbed the keys of his and your house and made his way to your apartment. After entering your home and closing the door behind himself, he took his sweet time to breathe in the smell. It was full of you, it made his head spin and heart race. This was his first time coming into your house when you’re there. You were so introverted and had barely any friends. You were living happily in your small world, that was until he came.
The man was over two meters and had on a strange looking mask. He immediately drew your attention because he just looked like some game characters you played. At first he was distant, cold. His icy-blue eyes were intimidating but somehow inviting. You were the first to start the conversation with him, asking about his work. You two became closer with time but it was never too friendly. He was just some neighbor you knew. But he wanted more. Much more.
So after many months of observation and gaining a lot of information about you, he managed to copy your keys. He would come into your house and feed your cat with treats making his presence known and loved. Unfortunately just with your cat. But now his dreams were coming true. He had given you some homemade cookies. And poor you accepted them without any suspicion and now you were on your bed, in a deep sleep, as he walked into your room. Your cat immediately noticed him.
But he was too mesmerized by your sleeping form on the bed that he was frozen in his place. The cat meowed loudly, drawing his attention to it, he gave it some treats he brought with him. Everything was planned. When the cat was out of the room and the door of your bedroom was locked, he walked to your bed. He was finally here. Right next to you as you slept beautifully. He swallowed thickly and sat on the bed. The bed made a squeaking noise with his weight.
You looked even more pretty this close. His gaze lingered on your face; his breath hitched when his gaze stopped on your lips. He reached out a hand and brushed the strands of hair off your face. He was so nervous that his hands were shaking when he touched your hair. It was as soft as he imagined it would be. He tucked your hair behind your ear; his fingers lingered on your jaw before stopping on your chin and tilting your head up just a little, just so he could see your face better. Your lips parted and a soft sigh escaped from your lips when he did; his heart skipped a beat.
You continued to sleep, without noticing the man's touch on your face, thanks to the cookies. His thumb caressed your lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lower lip. He was holding the urge to give into his feelings, to give in to his desires and take you just then, in that moment. But he had to be patient. He wanted your first time together to be special, like you deserved. But it was turning him on so much to see you in that vulnerable state. He just wanted to tore of your bra and see what’s underneath. Then move to your sleeping shorts and take them off along with your panties so he could eat you out until you cum or wake up. He wondered what your expression would look like.
But still… it was just his fantasies. It caused him pain physically. “Scheiße, Maus.” he mumbled with a sigh. He took of his mask with his still trembling hands and put it on your nightstand, then took of his boots placing them on the floor next to your bed. He was ready to curl up with you. He climbed next to you, close. So close that you felt his breath on your face. His heart was beating like crazy now. His hands found your waist. “Gott.” he hissed when he felt how soft your skin was. His arms snaked around your waist and drew you close until your body fit perfectly with his, lips only centimeters apart. “Mine.” he growled. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack because the proximity of your body. Your body was almost disappeared inside his arms. It only made him want to protect and posses you.
His fingers caressed your skin as he watched your face closely. To memorize everything about you. He even tried to count your eyelashes. It was stupid but he was just too lost in your beauty. One of his hands found yours and put it on his face. Like you was caressing his cheek. It was pathetic but he was too desperate for your affection. He left your hand on his cheek and his hand found your back. His fingers tracing up and down on your spine then eventually stopped on the clasp of your bra. “Nein, not now.” he scolded himself with his eyes frowned. His gaze found your lips again and softened. He wanted- no he craved to kiss you. Your lips looked delicious.
He swallowed and closed his eyes promising himself that he would stop after a taste. When he opened his eyes, he was determined to contain himself; to show restraint. So, his hand was on your chin again, tilting your head up to meet his lips. When his lips brushed against yours, he took in a sharp breath; like someone just hit him with a bat, kissing you felt like it. His hand on your waist pulled you closer, as close as he could. His kiss started slowly, with all of his love and affection; with all of his feelings. But the craving... the craving only grew. His whole body shook as he stole your breath. The determination of containing himself was no where to be found with his morals. He moaned into your mouth and his cock throbbed. His hands traveled down and big palms covered your hips. The kiss was sloppy and hungrier now. He was too lost into heaven. You were his heaven.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc<3
Stalker König has a special place in my heart. this is definitely my favorite work. also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)
i’m so sleepless so i’m just gonna post this and post the rest tomorrow.
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ltbunny · 3 months
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Blind date with ex-husband price. It was like 4 peoples doing. It was your coworkers' yoga instructors, then the yoga instructors' supermarket bag boy and then his girlfriends who set up the date. How did we even get there?
Anyway, your dressed up, all pretty, excited to meet someone new. It's been a while since you've been on a date, a blind one at that, alot of guys take one look and either get too 'excited' or extremely deflated, both of them are horrible, but it's been a while since you've been on the scene after you finally got over your husband...
Annnndd, it's your ex. Fuck he looks good, fresh trim and his shoulders look so broad, he's wearing his 'going out, need to impress shirt'.. damn, he really wanted to appeal whoever his blind date was... maybe it's not to late to leave, he hasnt even no- oh.. his hand is on your lower back
"Sweetheart!" He smiles in a way that doesn't reach his eyes,
"John..." you acknowledge, looking up at him, "dont call me sweetheart."
"Sorry, love, bad habit."
You roll your eyes, but don't correct him. Is he doing it on purpose?
"Well, red bag," He smiles.
"Red tie," you respond
"So we're with each others company for the night then," He grins and looks at you, sheepishly, "well, that's if you want to continue the blind date?" He sounds hopeful...
He leads you to the table. Obviously, he pulls the chair out for you and gives you a bouquet of flowers, its only the gentlemanly thing to do, he says.
It starts off strained but you find yourself picking up the little things he does that you used to love, pointing out your favourite foods in the menu, listening intently to everything you say, stupidly lovey-dovey puppy eyes as he nods along, his hand on yours, stroking his thumb on the back of your hand, he even said some stupid line about 'me n u' and says soap put him up to it, fuck, you missed his laugh. You find yourself asking about the boys, work, it feels like you and price are just on a date night, like you two used to do before the divorce.
He walks you home at the end of the night, he started with hand holding, and now his arm is somehow around your waist, and he's closer than any ex-husband should be, really. When you get up to your apartment, he looks a little nervous,
"I'm not inviting you over for a nightcap, John."
"I know, love," he says smoothly, "just wondering... if it would be appropriate to end the night with a kiss,"
You feel a faint heat in your cheeks, unsure of what to do... after a few seconds, you nod, looking up at him. You feel his hand tentatively reach out for the back of your head, cradling it while he kisses you, you missed this, the tickle of his beard, his big hands on you, soft lips, soft kisses.
You can feel him actively try to hold back tongue, but the way you open your mouth slightly in the kiss makes him go for it immediately. You feel yourself melt. It's so desperate and carnal, but still so soft, like he doesn't want to push it, but it goes on longer than expected, neither of you really wanting to pull away, eventually you pull back, lips sore, heated faces, you wonder if you should withdraw the nightcap thing and just let him in.
"I had a lovely night, sweetheart, I... would really love to see you again." He says with a flushed face, his hand on your lower back again, going in circles.
"Me too, John."
"Text me, okay? We can go to that tex-mex place you really like, or somewhere fancier," he smiles softly, "I wanna see my woman happy."
"Not your woman, John."
"Yet." He says with a grin, leaning down and kissing you softly again, "thank you for giving this a chance, love, ill see you tomorrow, hopefully?"
You nod, and he walks home with a smile. Can't believe you had such a nice date with your ex-husband, thanks coworkers, yoga intructors, bag boys girlfriend...
(You probably wouldn't think it's so sweet if earlier you saw gaz in the back alley with bloody knuckles, after beating up the guy that was meant to be your date, texting price
'all done, sir.'
'Knew I could count on you, garrick.')
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diorchids · 2 months
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having to literally pry luke’s head away from ur pussy and you’re literally squirming and screaming cause it’s so much
mdni, nsfw.
ok yes..
“go slow, ‘kay?” your stomach burned with anticipation as luke made his way down to your sweet cunt.
“don’t be shy,” he reassured you, giving you false hope—that he’d be real nice. he lowered his head, kissing and licking his way down to your pathetically sopping cunt. “luke, go slow, please.”
his eyes flash as he looks up at you, his pupils dilated with need. "i'll go as slow or as fast as i want," he quipped, before burying his face in your pussy. he deserved this.
his tongue swirling around your clit as he licked you slowly. his fingers played with your entrance, teasing you mercilessly as he took his time pleasuring you. you taste so sweet, your cunt served as a fuel for him as he gripped your thighs to keep you from moving.
his tongue slid deeper into your wet folds, tasting every inch of you. his fingers teased your entrance, rubbing over your clit as slowly as he continued to lap at your sweetness.
“so fuckin’ sweet, babe.” he groaned right onto your puffy clit while you sat there, squirming with your hand clamped over your mouth.
he loves how good you taste, opting to eat your pussy whenever you got all mad at him.
he planted a hand on your tummy while he kept eating like a starved man, his chin covered in your juices—delicious.
tears rolled down your face as your thighs burned and your pretty cunt fluttered. “luke, slower, please!” you’re practically screaming by now. luke ignored your pathetic attempt at stopping him.
your back arched off the bed with each suckle at your clit, and luke hums his approval, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down your spine.
he continues to eat you out with determination, driving you closer and closer to the edge until you can't take it anymore.
you were a mess now, legs trembling and shaking around his back as you tried to pry him off your dripping cunt. you couldn’t even speak. your body was weak while you babbled stupidly.
luke pulls back slightly, his tongue swirling around your clit one last time before pulling away completely. he looks up at you, a predatory smile on his lips. "not yet," he said, grabbing your hips firmly.
you couldn’t take it though. your held your hands on either side of his head when you finally plucked him off of you. you cried out as your breathing steadied, “what’s wrong with you?” your chest rose and fell continuously.
his chin was completely covered in your arousal as he just smiled. a fucking sadist.
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m-ayo-o · 3 months
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how the jjk men treat shy and kinky grls :s
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~ reader gets embarrassed from pda -> nsfw; crack ish + smut ! sex mention, anal, sub!gojo (whiny and needy), fingering, oral, overstimulation, ass eating, premature ejaculation
Toji
He's so confused. Like, last night you were asking him to put his cock in your ass and now you can barely look at him?
He gets all up in your face and teases you about it, loving how you're so embarrassed from what he did to you. He grins over your lips and tries to kiss you but you just dip your head down and push on his chest. He wants to wrap an arm around you anytime you're in public to claim you; over your shoulder, around your waist. He'll try to grab onto your arm or your hand, but you wriggle out of his grip and shy away.
And when you're in a bar, late, with his friends and yours, he wants to squeeze your ass but you just can't handle it. He pulls you between his legs and slides his hands down your back where he's sat on a bar stool, making your entire body heat up when he reaches your plushy cheeks. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but the smug smile on his face, but he just laughs and grabs you harder.
"Hey, what's up, why can't I touch you, hm? 'Sure changed your tune from last night, sweet. Tch- come back here you silly girl. Can't keep my hands off you, no- no I just wanna touch your ass, let me, don't be shy."
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Satoru
Your nights together are eye opening for this man. You are showing him filthy things. Filthy hot things with your body and his. You found his praise kink along with his g spot, and with this combination you basically rule his body. The way he cums takes your breath away; he's so loud it's addictive, and when he begs to fuck you, you just can't say no.
But the next day when he needs to be all over you, he takes it so personally when you don't let him. He sighs dramatically and tries to drape his arms around you at any given moment, but you bite your lip with heat rising on your cheeks and tell him it's too much. Of course he starts pouting and whining to no end, like he's entitled to touch you.
After trying to push his massive body away you see his crystal eyes go all wide and watery and he looks like he's going to cry, so you let him get closer and hold onto you while you walk round the shopping mall.
"Babyyyy, I wanna hug you- noo it's not fair, hey don't look at me like that... what do you mean I can't touch you? Um, no. No, I'm hugging you- wait, please?! I let you do all that to me last night... now you don't want me near you?"
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Kento
He fingered you last night. He had you on his lap, kissing you and touching you till you soaked his pants. He took his fingers up to your lips and told you to suck, getting them nice and wet, before dragging them down your body and plunging them into your pussy. He fucked you so wide you started crying, and he watched you spill all over him, humping him stupidly.
He smiled and told you what a good girl you are, and that you should lie down on the bed and let him give you some more. And before you know it you're creaming on his tongue again and again, then you hear the low buzz of a vibrator and you can barely take it. You cry and moan through the overstimulation but he hushes you softly, telling you to stay still.
And after your intense night, he takes you out for dinner the next day and he wants to hold your hand over the table. He slides his fingers into your palm and you suddenly look away and close up your hand, retracting your arms and hiding them under the table. He gives you an understanding smile- you must've been thinking about what he did with those fingers last night.
"I had fun, yeah really- no, no honey it's all about you. Same again tonight? No? Haha okay I admit I was being greedy. Mm, you just feel so warm and soft, I can't help but touch you- sorry, it's too much? Oh, no it's ok sweetheart."
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Suguru
He wants to hold you. He wants to place his hand on your lower back while you stroll around the city. His touch is calming and respectful; he only wants to guide you and make you feel safe. But after last night, when he pressed on the same spot on your back, you're getting so shy with him.
He pushed you into the mattress and spread you open, sinking his tongue inside you with his nose between your ass cheeks. He splayed one hand over the dip in your back to hold you still, the other keeping your legs open, and he ate you realllll dirty, until his tongue started slipping up your ass and he was begging to lick you there too. You let him and he purred and spread your cheeks, telling you how pretty you are and how much he wants to fuck you.
And after that, with his hot sex talk playing on repeat in your mind, you can't help twitching and skipping out of his touch when you're walking down the street. You try to hide how embarrassed you are but of course he notices and it makes him even more insatiable, till he's whispering dirty promises in your ear.
"Don't get all shy like that- come here, look at me. You'll let me eat your ass but I can't touch you? Oh, pretty girl, I just wanna hold you- mm, don't look at me like that.. gonna turn me on- you know I want to do it again, right?"
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bonus ~ (roles reversed)
Choso
He's still embarrassed from last night since he accidentally came in his pants. He was horny all day from you sending him outfit ideas for your date but he waited so patiently for you. When you showed up at his place in one of the contending choices- a crop top and a tiny little skirt- he got a boner right there in the doorway. But when you sat on his lap, kissing and grinding your pussy on him, he knew it was all over. He started panting and moaning in your mouth but he didn't want to stop kissing you and he just couldn't push you off in time.
And now you want to touch him in public he's being really shirty with you and pulling away, not letting you grab onto his muscly arms or hold his big hands. He storms through the city with you chasing after him, and when you reach your date destination he huffs and heads inside.
Finally, he lets you get closer to him. He's sitting on a bench after attracting all of the kittens in the cat café and you ask to perch on his knee so you can pet them too. He nods and you sit there, with your grumpy boyfriend covered in cats and you turn to him and place a kiss on his cheek. He jumps and goes bright red and nearly throws you off his lap. But you trace a soothing line over the marking on his nose and give him a little hug. You know he loves you.
"Choso- baby it's ok, come here. Don't be angry with me please, no no it's not your fault, please. Baby don't be embarrassed.. oh, thank you sweetie- I promise we can try again later. Yeah, does that sound good?"
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frantic-fiction · 3 months
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Payback 18+
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(Pic: northernolddragon) I cropped it
Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x f!Tav
Summary: Astarion goes too far and embarrasses Tav in front of the party. She decides she wants a bit of revenge.
Warning: Smut, MDNI, slight Dom!reader, slight Sub!Astarion, Dom/Sub switch (kinda?), delayed orgasm, Oral sex m and f receiving, PnV sex,
Word Count: 3.8k (I'm a gremlin who just can't help myself)
Masterlist
That fucking asshole. How dare he? You slammed open the door, the handle hitting the wall with a resounding smack. Locking it behind you, you kick off your shoes, stumble over your feet, and rip off your dress. You begin throwing off every other accessory and remaining article of clothing until you are completely bare and breathing heavily. You sigh, frustrated, and pull on a pair of trousers and an old, tattered shirt. Anger pulses through your veins, and embarrassment burns deep in your chest. Falling onto the bed, you drop your face into your hands and pull at the ends of your hair.
Astarion went too far this time. Usually, you loved his sassy comments and sarcastic humor. You were typically the first to laugh when he jests and pokes fun at you and the other party members. But how can you laugh when his lighthearted jokes turn to dirty secrets? When he's telling your friends out in a crowded pub intimate details from your sex life.
You should have known it was a bad idea to have Astarion feed from you while there was liquor coursing through your veins. But he was curious and very convincing. It didn't take long before you were offering him your wrist. Neither of you really thought the alcohol would affect Astarion, and you didn't expect Astarion to be such a fucking ass when intoxicated. 
He teased you and shared private moments all night, and you wanted to hate him. Moreover, you wanted him to be sorry. Beg for forgiveness and mean it. But Astarion is a prideful man and has a stupidly hard time giving out apologies. He's improved, especially with you, but you don't want a simple sorry. You want payback, a little revenge, or as close to it as possible.
A sudden, devilish thought crosses your mind, and you know how you're going to get just that. Quickly, you jump up and move to set your plan in motion. You clean up the room, erasing your angry tantrum from before, and strip down naked once more. You dig around Astarion's pack and pull out his white-laced shirt. And then you wait for him. 
It takes just under an hour of waiting. You filled the time with one of the books you picked up the other day. But just as you go to flip another page, the door handle twists, catching on the lock. You’re on your feet and at the door before Astarion can attempt to unlock it. The palm of your hand hits the door hard, and you're holding it close. 
"Why should I let you in?" Your tone lace with venom.
"Darling," Astarion sighs, a tinge of exhaustion undertoned in his words, his voice no longer holding that annoying drunken slur. "Must we do this?"
"You weren't very nice to me tonight." You lean your back against the door, crossing your arms. “I have half a mind to make you bunk with someone else.”
His head falls against the wood, pushing lightly against your back. "If you let me in, I promise I'll make it up to you." It felt like he was breathing these words sinfully into your ear. 
You flip the lock and open the door. "Say you're sorry."
"Is that really what you want?" He purrs, his eyes darkening and pressing into your space. "I much prefer physical apologies."
Astarion pulls you into a lustful kiss, his hand snaking up your shirt and massaging your breast. He bites your lip, and when you gasp, he licks into your mouth. He traces his fingers over your hip bone and pulls you close.
"Wearing my shirt with no underwear?” He nips your bottom lip, and you shudder. “I don't think you're as mad as you say, my sweet."
You smile sharply and pull him further into the room. Reclaiming his lips, you start pulling at his shirt, exposing Astarion's pale skin. He's kissing down your neck, tugging your shirt aside to lather his tongue over your shoulder. His fangs tease your skin, and you moan. Trailing your fingertips down his stomach, you undo his pants, tugging it down. Astarion steps out, leaving him in a pair of tight briefs, an outline of his swelling cock evident against the straining fabric. He pushes the trousers to the side, and the two of you fall onto the bed in a heap.
"Who says this is for you?" you say coyly, forcing his head to the side and biting hard at his throat.
"Hells,"
"Maybe I was going to take care of myself tonight." You kiss his cheek "Take a bath, have some wine," you bring your lips to his ear. "Touch myself." You tease his ear between your teeth. His grip tightens on you. "I don't need you to please myself, Astarion."
Astarion groans deep in his chest and runs his hands up your thighs to the swell of your ass. He grinds you down onto his half-hard cock. "But here we are." 
"But here we are." You mimic, smiling smugly, relishing how Astarion so confidently believes he holds all the cards.
He kisses you again, and you let him. You could easily get lost in the wet dance of lips and the delicious silent promises of more to come. Give in and just let Astarion consume you. But no, you are far more excited with what's to come. 
"I want to taste you." You moan needily- dragging your teeth down his chest. Maybe you were playing it up, but it seemed to work. You circle his nipple with your tongue, and Astarion lets out a deep groan, nails digging into the plush flesh of your ass.
"Don't let me stop you, my love," 
You tug his cock out and squeeze him softly; he's stiff and aching and instinctually bucks up into your palm. Licking over his nipple, you begin to suck. A trickle of precum starts to fall, and you collect it, beginning to stroke slowly. Kissing down his stomach, you reach his pelvic bone. You look up, meeting Astarion's intense gaze. His mouth is agape, his chest moving in harsh breaths. One hand is reaching up, gripping the headboard in an ironclad grip. You softly press a kiss to the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth. 
"Fuck," He hissed through clenched teeth, "Gods, I love your mouth." 
Urged on by his response, you take more of him in his mouth and begin to move at a slow pace sucking and bobbing your head. Astarion's hands grabbed your shoulder and softly stroked up your neck to the back of your head. He didn't force the pace, just gently held your head, rubbing his thumb softly behind your ear.
"That's it, Darling. So good to me."
Heat rushes through your body, the praise going straight to your core. You hum and begin to bob your head faster. Sucking hard, hollowing your cheeks, you trail your hand down his tensed thigh and cup his balls. You roll him in your hands, and Astarion moans, thrusting into your mouth. You gag and grab his hips, holding him down with your weight.
He's close. His eyes are unfocused, trying desperately to stay on you; he's letting out breathless gasps and attempting to buck up into your mouth, seeking more for you to give. That's when you pull off of him entirely and squeeze his cock tightly.
Astarion lets out a needy whine, sits up, and instantly meets your eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. 
"Apologize!"
"What?" Astarion says, dazed and still lost in the loss of stimulation. Then it dawns on him, and he realizes what's happening. "Naughty little-"
You give him one stroke, and Astarion chokes. "Apologize for embarrassing me tonight."
"My sweet, I was intoxicated; it's not really my fault." He's trying to give off an air of indifference, but you know him better. Astarion was moments away from crumbling.
"I was just as drunk, and I wasn't telling everyone about our sex life." You lick over the tip and begin to stoke him slowly. "Apologize, and I might just let you fuck me."
He moans deeply, thrusting up into your fist. "I-ng shit, I'm sorry, you were upset with my words tonight."
"Nope, try again." You stop completely and meet his eyes. "You have to mean it."
"Please! My love, I'm sorry." His voice cracks. He's practically whimpering; he brings his fist to his mouth and bites down to keep a semblance of control. 
"That's closer, but what you said still hurts, so I want you to make it up to me." You move up his body and kiss him. "Do you want to make it up to me?"
"Yes! Anything!" He sounds so desperate. You don't think you've ever felt so aroused. You clench instinctually against nothing, seeking friction that's not there.
"I want you to beg. I want you to beg to fuck me, handsome" You scratch your nails teasingly down the broad of Astarion's chest. "I want everyone to hear how - how did you put it, love? 'desperate and needy' you are for me."
He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, eyes blackened from arousal, and a smile stretches his lips."I like this side of you, Darling."
 Astarion captures your lips, and you're on your back before you can comprehend what's happening. "My sweet, please, I need to touch you." His voice is louder than it needs to be. 
"Do you?" You purr, hooking your leg over his hip. 
"Yes!" He moans out, rutting against your dripping cunt. "Please, I need you!"
You brush your hand through Astarions hair and pull him down for a kiss. "Then be a good boy and touch me." 
Astarion doesn't need to be told twice to tug up your shirt. You let him pull it off and throw it across the room. He starts to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the column of your neck. A rough hand grabs your breast, and nimble fingers pinch your nipple. You sigh and thrust your hips up when Astarions mouth finds your other nipple and rolls the peak softly between his teeth before sucking hard.
"Astarion," you moan, caressing any available skin of his you can reach. "So good to me."
He grunts at the praise and moves down your stomach, leaving kitten licks and sharp nips in his wake. His hands are trailing down your sides and stop to grip your hips in a firm hold. He pulls you down the bed, and you let out a little yelp. Astarion meets your half-lidded gaze and bites at the fat of your thigh, lapping up the droplets of blood that bead up to the surface. 
"The sweetest treat," Astarion moans, throwing your leg over his shoulder, trailing his nose down your thigh to the spot you want him most. But I'm still famished. I need more, please."
"Don't let me stop you, handsome." You smirked, mimicking his previous words. Your breath was catching, and you felt just as desperate as Astarion.
You let out a gargled mewl when Astarion trails one long agonizing lick up the length of your cunt. He never breaks eye contact; you bite your lip and grip one of your breasts, fisting the other into the bedsheet.
Astarion consumes you like he'll never be able to again. Desperate, messy, and with no care for the thinness of the walls. You gasp and instinctually try to clamp your legs close. His cold hands hold your hips apart, only allowing pathetic gyrates of your hips. The room is filled with filthy wet slurps and needy moans as Astarion tears you apart.
"Faster, Star. Don't you dare stop," you demand, grinding against his face, shivering when his pointed nose teases your clit. "Such a good boy."
His moan quakes through your cunt, and you throw your head back into the pillow, arching your back slightly. Astarion's fingers push into you and match the ragged pace of his mouth. Your hand finds his soft curls again and holds him in place, pulling gently at the roots. Astarion could break away anytime, but he seems to like it because you feel him grind down against the bed. 
"No, no, pretty boy." You tsk, pulling his hair harsher. He grunts against you, sucking harder at your clit. "You don't get to come until you’re forgiven."
Astarion pulls away from your clit, chin glistening with your juices. His fingers are still pumping into you. "You cruel women." He practically whines breathlessly.
"You're- shit- you're making up for your naughty behavior, remember?" The coil is tightening in your stomach, your body hot, and your breath shaky. "Now be good and make me come."
He smiles wickedly and resumes his ministrations. He curls his fingers up and presses against the spot that has you gasping in silent cries. His mouth finds your clit again and laps his tongue against it. He's relentless, and your legs are trembling. The pleasure is building, the flame licking through your veins. 
"m close, Star,"
He doesn't stop or voice any cheeky comments he would typically make. He just pumps his fingers faster and sucks and lavishes his tongue harder against your cunt. You feel your body tightening, and you grab for anything to hold on to; one hand is still in Astarion's hair, but your other hand grabs his shoulder, digging your nails into his flesh. Astarion scrapes his fangs playfully against your clit, and that's all you need to fall apart. 
You're moaning and screaming his name and mumbling incoherent praises into the air. Black spots seem to cloud over your vision, and all your muscles tighten at once. Astarion drags you through your orgasm, slowing his fingers and moving to soft kitten licks. It takes you a moment to return to yourself, and you are out of breath and covered in sweat. Looking down, you see Astarion. He's staring at you, licking his lips, collecting every drop of you. His face is full of affection and untenable arousal.
"Am I forgiven?"
You surge forward and tackle him into an uncoordinated kiss. You maneuver him around until his back is against the headboard, and you are seated comfortably in his lap. Your tongue tangled with his, the tangy sweetness of your release mingling in the dance. Pulling back, you catch his lip tugging playfully.
"Hmm… I don't know," You smirk, grabbing his neglected cock and giving it a few languid strokes. 
"Darling, please!" He begs, head falling back, exposing his neck to your greedy mouth. 
You press your mouth to the hollow of his throat and suck until you're sure there will be a noticeable mark tomorrow. "I guess you have been such a good boy." Circling your thumb over his tip, you swipe his cock through your folds, coating him in your arousal. 
"Yes, I've been so good." His voice chokes, and he clenches his jaw, desperately trying to seek more friction. Hells, he was so incredibly sexy like this.
"And I think a good boy deserves a reward. Wouldn't you agree, Star?" The rush you feel at his desperation, his neediness for you and only you, has your confidence surging. 
"Yes! Please!"
You line him up with your hole and sit down painfully slow. Two groans of pleasure join together in the room as you seat yourself to the hilt. Astarion grabs your hips in a death grip, releasing an almost painful hiss through his teeth. For a moment, you don't move; feel the stretch and the completeness he gives you. Meeting his eyes, you place your hands on his shoulders and raise on your haunches. You pull up almost off him completely before lowering at the same brutally slow pace.
"Gods, you're so tight." Astarion groans, head falling against your arm. 
He uses the grip on your hips to help set a steady pace that has both of you dissolve into a moaning, blubbering mess. You clench around him and run your hand up his neck to the back of his head, pulling him to your chest. Astarion is quick to resume lavishing your breast with messy kisses, surely littering you with bites and bruises that will linger for days to come. 
You would have loved to drag this out. Punish Astarion for hours until he was nothing but a mumbling, blushing pussy-drunk mess. But you were growing impatient, and the delicious feeling of Astarion's cock filling you was clouding your more devious thoughts. Grinding your hips down hard onto his cock had Astarion gasping into your chest. 
You cupped his jaw and captured his mouth before whispering seductively into his ear. "You've been forgiven. Now I want you to fuck me hard."
A deep groan rumbled through Astarion's chest, and he did just that. You're suddenly on your back, and his tongue is in your mouth. The slow pace was thrown out the window to a brutal pounding that tore the breath from your lungs.
"A-astarion, fuck” You roll your hips to match his pace. 
You're not going to last much longer; you don't think you've ever been more aroused, and seeing how pent-up Astarion is, having been teased along for too long. You know he's just as close. You grab his hand and pull it down your body to where you want it most. He grunts huskily in your ear and rubs harshly at your bundle of nerves. Throwing one of your legs over Astarion's hip, you adjust your body, and his thrusts find a new angle that presses against that beautiful spot inside of you. 
Astarion’s other hand, can’t seem to stay still, moving up and down your body, trying to pay equal attention to all of your soft skin. He’s squeezing your hip, tickling your side, cupping your breast, and moving back down to repeat all over again. He’s peppering kisses over your forehead and cheeks, biting your kiss-swollen lips, running his nose along yours. It’s overwhelming and not enough, but it is always with him. Astarion moves to your neck and sucks at his favorite spot, the place he feeds most frequently from, silently begging for a taste. 
"Mhm," you nod, words no longer forming on your tongue. 
Astarion's fangs pierce your skin, and the familiar icy cold floods your veins. You cry out as he greedily drinks from your body. Your blood seems to turn Astarion feral. He grabs your other leg to join the other in a link behind his back. Astarion grinds you into the mattress, brutally pumping in and out of you. All your body can do is wrap your arms around his neck, smoothing your hands over his body, and hold on. The only sounds that echo in the darkroom are the slick, obscene sounds of skin sliding against skin and needy moans and desperate whimpers. 
You can't tell if you're lightheaded because of the pleasure Astarion is giving you or the blood that he's consuming from your neck. It's probably both, but right now, you only care that he keeps going because that lovely burning heat is returning and boiling in your stomach. 
"I'm so close," you whimper.
This has Astarion finally pulling away from your neck. He looks deeply into your eyes, his pace never faltering. There's a trickle of your blood running down his chin, and you reach up to catch it. You push your thumb into his mouth, and without breaking your gaze, Astarion licks it clean. He grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours above your head. His hand somehow seems to move faster against your clit, and you are moments away from coming undone. On the ledge but seemingly hanging by your fingertips.
"S-so am I, darling." He manages to stutter out, and you pull him down for a kiss. It is desperate and needy, and the taste of your blood, sharp and metallic, mingles with his spit. "Come for me, love; let me feel you."
Those words, always commanded with such affection, had an immediate effect. You clench around him like a vice, mouth falling open in a silent gasp. You sigh his name into his mouth and cup his face with your spare hand as if the moment you come down from this high Astarion might no longer be real. 
Astarion's pace falters, and he clumsily thrusts. Once, twice, three more times before burying deep into your cunt and coming hard with a deep groan. While you're still amid your ecstasy, you are still mesmerized by Astarion coming undone before you. The way his jaw clicks shut and he squeezes his eyes closed. The tightening of his hand on your body, gripping hard enough to bruise, not that you minded. The stuttering minute juts of his hips as he rides out the last of his orgasm. And finally, watching Astarion's body turn to jelly, bones and muscles collapsing under his weight as he falls onto you, head finding your chest.
You run your hand through his curls, scratching his scalp. Astarion purrs softly and kisses your chest, running delicate fingers up your side. He catches your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the inside of your wrist. 
Astarion rolls off of you and moves from the bed. You whine at the loss of fullness but make no other protest. A tiredness has settled deep in your bones; you don't think you could move if you wanted to. 
Thankfully, Astarion was quick to return. In his hands was a cup of water and a wet cloth. Smiling softly, you take the glass from him and take a long gulp. Handing it back, he places it on the nightstand and rejoins you in bed. Astarion delicately cleans you off, kissing your neck when you wince from oversensitivity. After that was taken care of, he discards the used cloth and pulls you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head and tightening his hold on you. You hum softly and nuzzle into his chest. 
"I am sorry," he says, fingertips drawing nonsense patterns on your back. You glance up to meet his gaze, and he pushes some of your hair out of your eyes. "I'm truly sorry I hurt you, my love. I didn't mean to." 
You give him a tender smile, "Thank you, Star," you kiss the chest just above his heart and whisper, lips brushing against his skin. "I love you."
"And I love you."
Next Day: You giggle over your glass of juice, watching a very disgruntled Astarion from across the room. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes were sharp. His bare forearms crossed over his chest. He was slouched down in his chair, looking like he would rather be anywhere else than in his current situation.
Gale was sitting in front of the vampire, a dusty tome placed on the table between him. You could barely hear the wizard's words as he vainly tried to teach Astarion a simple silencing spell. Gale was trying to help, given the very vocal display Astarion gave last night. And you couldn’t be more pleased at Astarion’s predicament. 
Astarion's ears twitch and his head snap in your direction to give you a pointed glare. He's only given more of your laughter in response.
Fine I'll admit it, I like a needy Astarion, sue me. But you got to agree that drunk Astarion would be a fucking menace.
Anyways let me know what ya thought. Talking with you guys is a highlight of my day.
Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr
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reidmotif · 4 months
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Always Bet on Black
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Summary: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.
Prompt: The BAU throws a casino night charity fundraiser. Spencer is a menace. Someone has to find a way to distract him.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: drinking, gambling (i have never gambled in my life nor have i played poker or blackjack. this will be super apparent in this fic. many apologies), nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving) hickies, Reader POV, unprotected penetrative sex
Word Count: 3.7k
Masterlist
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“And that’s another win to the gentleman on my right!”  The dealer announces for what feels like the millionth time that night. There's a shit-eating grin on Spencer Reid’s face as he leans over the blackjack table, wrapping his arms around the hearty stack of chips in an almost in an exaggerated manner, pulling it back towards him much to everyone’s dismay. 
My dismay, especially, because while- yes, this is for charity, and what Spencer’s doing could be characterized as noble in some roundabout way, it was getting a bit repetitive. Spencer was so focused, a thousand times more than anyone else at that table, his brain working a million miles a minute to provide him with the best course of action when it came to gambling.  
And so far? It worked perfectly. While everyone else was taking their chances and betting away, praying that the odds would line up in their favor, Spencer Reid did fucking math, and suddenly the odds were his bitch.  I was beginning to understand why every casino in Las Vegas had him banned now. If he was giving the BAU Casino Night a run for their money like this, I can’t imagine the Bellagio being too pleased with having him either. 
I sighed at the thought, and it seemed Spencer picked up on it, the corners of his lips turning upwards, trying to feign a chagrin expression as he stacked his chips on top of the other. 
“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He says, looking at me. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” 
Spencer Reid is usually nice, humble, and sweet. In all honesty, I should not be feeling this hostile and sore at the fact that he’d managed to beat me almost every single time we’d played blackjack. My embarrassment was only heightened when I thought of how I’d (stupidly) bragged beforehand that I’d never lost a game in college. 
How quickly my streak was destroyed. 
My pride was bruised, and the man in front of me knew it. 
“I’m enjoying myself just fine.” I say, trying not to grit my teeth as I say the words. 
“You look a bit hot.” He says, referring to my face that had gotten slightly red after the most recent loss I’d taken. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asks, his gaze turning less cocky, and more sweet and polite. 
I melt a bit. “Okay. No need to be a sore loser.” I think to myself. “This is a sweet man, and he’s offering you a drink. Yes, he’s destroying you right now and knows it, but it’s not like he’s acting like a complete dick about it.”
I nod at his words, sending a small smile his way. 
“A drink would be great actually.” I finally respond, and he gets up, pushing his chair in. 
“I’ll be right back.” He says, turning away from me, and sauntering towards the bar.
 I take a second to admire him as he walks away, the suit and tie ensemble he picked out for the night complimenting him so well. I’d never say it out loud, considering we were coworkers, but something about seeing him so dapper, so much more.. mature brought out a warm feeling in my stomach, one that made me shift in my seat as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of grabbing him by his tie, placing a hand on his perfectly sculpted jawline, pulling him against me and- no! 
He. Is. Your. Colleague. Snap out of it! 
In lieu of my wandering thoughts, I’d realized I had actually heated up quite a few degrees and in an attempt to combat the sudden body heat, I shrugged off the shawl I’d been donning for most of the night. I felt the cool air hit my exposed shoulders and chest, and relaxed a bit, starting to feel my temperature lower. Right as I did so,  Spencer returned to his seat, holding two drinks. 
I turn towards him, still seated. He’s sitting in his seat, facing towards me as well, and I instinctively reach over to grab the drink in his hand, expecting him to meet me halfway and transfer the cup to me.  But instead of the expected interaction, he seems a bit dazed, an intense expression on his face as he bored his eyes into me, studying me almost. It’s an expression that causes me to raise my eyebrows at him. 
“Spencer?” I say. “Hello?” I wave my hand a bit, trying to break him from his trance. “The drinks?” I add, and that’s what seems to break him out of his preoccupied stupor. He blinks a bit before shaking his head.
“Sorry. Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.” He says, hastily handing me my glass and turning away completely from me, taking a sip out of his. I can notice a small tremor in his hand as he sets down the liquid on the table, and I’m a bit concerned. He was just fine a moment ago. Did someone say something whilst he was at the bar? Did he choose to ponder some life-changing information as he took his seat at the table? Was he losing it for no reason at all? 
Regardless of what it was, I didn’t have the time to contemplate it further or question him about it because the dealer was beginning to shuffle the deck of cards again. 
As the next game started, there was something fundamentally different about Spencer. He looked  almost panicked, even going as far as to loosen his tie as he played. I thought I’d maybe imagined the changes, until finally, I got a real indicator that something was off. For the first time that whole night- he lost. 
My mouth was agape as the dealer announced the house win, and as I looked between him and the table, he didn’t seem all that fazed, simply shrugging as he attempted to get up. Before he could slip away, I grabbed his arm and brought him a bit closer to me, so that I could speak to him over the sounds of the bustling party around us.
“Spencer- wait. Is something wrong?” I ask, the genuine concern in my tone apparent to anyone who might’ve walked by. 
“Yeah, no. Um. Why wouldn’t it be?” He says, his eyes everywhere except me. It was almost comical. The ceiling tiles couldn’t be that interesting. 
I grip his arm a little harder, urging him to look at me, to talk to me. “You lost! That hasn’t happened all night! Was someone- did something happen? Are you feeling okay?” I ask, my eyes trying to meet his. 
He gulps, finally looking at me. “Statistically, card counting can’t actually work every time so I was bound to lose at some point right?” He says, a little shakily, and despite his words making logical sense, the notion that something was wrong didn’t leave me. 
“You promise?” I say, looking at him as intensely as I possibly could to ensure he wouldn’t try to evade giving me an honest answer. 
He gives his signature, flat smile, nodding. “I’ll be fine. Look. I’m gonna go play some other games. Maybe rack up my luck somewhere else.” 
I lick my lips and finally let go of his arm, nodding. “Have fun.” I say, and he gives me a little wave. 
“You too.” 
For the next hour or so, I found myself dabbling at the other assortment of games offered by the Bureau that night, until yet again, my path crossed with Spencer, who seemed to be on a pretty hefty winning streak- if the stack of chips he’d accumulated wasn’t a clear sign of that already. 
I stood by the table, slightly out of his view,  a little amazed by the way his eyes followed the deck and everyone’s movements so precisely. The level of focus required to do what he was was absolutely no joke, and I couldn’t help but admire in silent awe at the exactness of the whole process. It only made him that much more attractive in that moment, if that was even possible. 
“Royal flush.” He announces, fanning his cards as everyone at the table groans. It’s only then when his gaze meets mine, watching him, and I can observe the signs of a tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. Odd.
“(Y/N)! Hello.” He says, quickly. “Still liking the party?” 
“I am, thank you.” I say, my eyebrows slightly furrowing at how oddly he’s behaving. “Mind if I join the next round?” I ask, already starting to take my seat. 
“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He says, clearing his throat and turning his entire body away from me. Spencer and I usually got along just fine. There was nothing ever particularly sour about our relationship, and I’d like to think that in the time I’d spent at the Bureau, our shared experiences had brought us closer. However, the way he was acting as of right now, like we were strangers or mere acquaintances threw me off beyond belief. 
It was official, something was off.
I leaned over a little closer, trying to get him to look at me.
“Spencer, I know I’ve already asked but is anything-“ I start, and I can see him glance over, and then almost rapidly turn his gaze away.
“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s play.” He rushes out, his words teetering on almost being high pitched. 
It didn’t evade me however, in that short microsecond he took to look at me, his gaze dropped partially down. I internally followed his line of sight to realize that my breasts were practically spilling from my dress. I knew that it was a bit showy, but didn’t think much of it when I’d chosen to wear it for this occasion. The event was black-tie, and so I’d fished out a number I’d haphazardly bought during an online shopping spree. It was black and sparkly, but the main caveat of the dress was the gorgeous bodice in the front, managing to give a good show of cleavage whilst pushing up my breasts and making them all that more appealing to anyone who noticed.  I began to connect the events of the night, realizing that someone clearly had noticed.
Spencer’s losing streak had coincidentally begun once I’d lost the shawl that was once covering my chest. 
An idea slowly entered my head. An experiment, if you will. As we started another game, I barely paid attention as my fingers slid over to what looked like a glass of water on Spencer’s side. 
“Spence?” I murmur, tapping his shoulder.
“Mm?” He asks, not even taking a moment to look away from his cards. 
“Mind if I take a sip from your water?” I ask, keeping my voice saccharine and innocent.
I can see the look he shoots me, his eyes slightly narrowed in surprise but he quickly looks away. “Yeah, um. Sure. Go ahead.” He responds dismissively, as if talking to me for even a second longer would result in him breaking out in hives. 
 Totally out of character. For all the closeness in the world, Spencer Reid would never have shared a glass of water. 
As I began to sip the water, I did something that could be categorized as deeply stupid, but in the name of my experiment, it was absolutely necessary. I slightly tipped the glass, allowing the cool water to run down my neck and drip onto the swell of my breasts. I made a show of getting up, touching my chest to try and rid myself of the moisture that was now coating my breasts. 
“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’ll get you another glass of water.” I say,letting my breasts bounce a bit as I stand up,  and when he looks at me, it’s more apparent than ever that his eyes aren’t gracing mine anytime soon. Not when I was like this. 
I grinned in secret as I turned around,  quickly bringing over a replacement glass to him, leaning over so that if he were to simply turn his head even slightly to his left, he’d get a direct look at what he simply couldn’t seem to take his eyes or mind off tonight. 
“Uh. Thanks.” He stammers again, shakily drinking the water as he miserably failed at not looking. Bingo. 
When the next round of our game commenced, he lost horrifically, as expected. His mind was in an entirely different dimension, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, knowing it was me who’d rendered him dumb. So unfocused. So unlike himself. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder, noticing Spencer’s hand carrying out the action. 
“Walk with me.” He says, simply. His tone was so sharp and commanding, I found myself listening with no hesitation, following as we moved to a more secluded bit of the party. 
“What are you doing?” He asks in an accusatory tone, his voice a hushed whisper. 
“What do you mean?” I respond, a faux naivete in my words, which he only scoffed at. He leaned in closer, his brows furrowed. I could notice a small vein popping out from his forehead, and the sight only increased the ache I’d begun to feel in my panties since he’d directed me here. 
“You know what I mean.” He says, dangerously. “You’re flaunting yourself.” He adds, his jaw tight. “You know what it’s doing to me. You’re enjoying it.” I could tell he wanted to say so much more, the grit in his tone leading me to believe there were some much cruder words he wished to utter to me.
 Regardless, the authority in his tone only spurred me to try and resist. It was so hot watching him like this. Maybe a bit fucked up to say that, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I only wanted to test the limits. To see the new man I could bring out in Spencer Reid tonight. 
“So what if I am?” I say, biting my lip. “It’s a party, Spencer. We’re all having fun, aren’t we?” 
“No.” He responds, darkly. “I’m not having fun.” 
A proposal came to mind. One I knew that would pan out deliciously, since I’d now gotten a look into his extensive lust tonight, and just how desperate he seemed. I leaned forward to whisper to him, my lips teasing the outer shell of his ear. 
“Win another game, and I’ll show you just how much fun you could be having.”
He immediately pulls back. His eyes narrow, and I can see the weight of my words course through his mind, evaluating the odds of my statement before clicking his tongue. 
“See you in 30 minutes.” is his response, as he walks away, beckoning me to follow him to yet another Blackjack table. I grin, sitting beside him. 
My presence doesn’t seem to phase Spencer whatsoever this time around, his laser-point focus uninterrupted even as I stared shamelessly at him. It wasn't until the game seemed to be reaching its turning point, in which Spencer had to decide whether drawing or staying would bring forth a better outcome for him. I watched as he mulled over the decision for a few seconds before his eyes locked onto mine, gaze intense. 
“Draw.” He voices, not even paying mind as the dealer announced his win. 
Spencer gets up without a word, and I can see him head towards a hallway that houses a few restrooms in the building. 
“Sir- your winnings!” The dealer calls out, but I smile apologetically, starting to follow Spencer to a more secluded area of the party.
“Sorry. He’s probably a bit preoccupied. I’ll let him know!” I respond, already turning around and making my way to the same hallway Spencer had gone down, finding the bathroom and opening it. I knew Spencer would be there, but what I didn’t expect was to be pulled into his arms, greeted by Spencer’s lips insistently pressing against mine, his free hand clutching the back of my head, as his other hand went to click the lock into place. I responded with a momentary bout of shock, but quickly found myself melting into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck. 
“You like watching me lose, is that it?” He whispers harshly, in between kisses. I can feel the anger, the lust and passion, all rolling into one as his lips meet mine, over and over again, creating the sweetest of sensations that wracked my whole body. 
“Mm. Not just you losing. You losing because you’re distracted. Because of me.” I say, my tone a bit dazed and breathy from the intensity he was putting me through. 
“Can you blame me?” He murmurs, his lips now trailing down my neck, paying close mind to a particular spot on the side that left my knees weak. “You wear this dress and expect me to not take my eyes off of you?” 
His hot breath grazes over my skin and I can feel myself shiver. I’m completely overwhelmed by him. The feel of his hands caressing the small of my back and waist, his smell of his cologne wafting around me. I can only breathe unsteadily, and hold onto him, a needy whimper slipping past my lips. 
“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” He murmurs. His tone was sweet, soothing, but his actions were anything but, as his fingers slipped around to find the zipper on my dress. 
In an instant, his mouth was finally all over my breasts, his mouth leaving a few marks on the expanse of my chest before his tongue began to sweep over my nipples, swirling around the raised bud, leaving me grappling to his shoulders, as more moans poured out from within me. 
“You like that?” He breathes against my skin, and I nod, frantically. I’d never expected to go this weak, but he was so much more skilled with his mouth than I’d ever expected.
“Please. Keep going.” I moan, and I can feel his hands on my thighs, urging me into his arms. I comply, and can feel myself be lifted to the bathroom counter, his hands squeezing the fat of my hips before dropping to his knees. His fingers looped around my underwear, and I attempted to move in a way that would aid him in their removal. As soon as they were off, he stuffed them into his pocket, and moved to lift my dress up, his face disappearing into my now spread legs. 
And suddenly he was everywhere, tongue swiping over my clit in rapid motions, flicking against me in a way that had me immediately squeezing my thighs around his face, to which Spencer responded by pushing them apart, leaving me shaking. 
“Oh god, Spencer. Oh-” I moan, over and over again, my hand gripping onto the strands of his hair. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, my legs trembling more than ever. 
“Spencer- I’m gonna-” I groan out, my grip tightening, and I look down, watching him devour me with so much precision and focus, the same I’d seen during his playing all night. I watched as his eyes met mine, his lips sucking around my clit and in a fit of moans, I found myself releasing all over his tongue, my body shuddering as he worked me through my orgasm, moaning against my core. 
He rose from his knees and planted a long, deep kiss on my lips, and I moaned as I tasted myself on him. My hands started to go for his belt, desperate to feel this man inside me. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his briefs, I guided him towards my entrance, gasping as I felt him push into me, immediately filling me up. I breathed in sharply from the pleasure of the sensation, my eyes screwing shut before opening them to see his eyes staring back at me. He gave me a moment to adjust, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, only the carnal desperation I felt for this man. I nodded to let him know I was ready,  and suddenly, like a man possessed, he began to jut his hips towards mine, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his back. 
He moaned as he slammed into me, over and over again, while his mouth kissed at my neck, at my jaw, my lips, murmuring my praises over and over again. 
“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans, my hips firmly gripped by his large hands, keeping me from slipping off the counter. “And that dress. Fuck. God, I want you.” 
I nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even speak, rather opting to moan his name and nod furiously. 
He kept one hand on my hip, while the other trailed down to where we were joined, and began to rub fast, hard circles over my already sensitive bud, the action causing me to gasp out and open my eyes, letting him know that my second release of the night was inevitable. 
“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low and his fingers diligent on my clit. 
“Please,” I sob out, my voice breaking with just how much I needed this right now. How much I needed him. 
“Come for me.” He murmurs, and as if under a spell, I do, coming undone rapidly in his grasp, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues the movement of his hips until I feel him still, and then spill into me, his breath heavy and chest heaving. 
I pull back, my forehead meeting his as he stares at me in a bit of a trance, our breaths mingling as we both came down from what had just happened. 
“I think.. you should probably cover up.. after that.” He murmurs, grinning a bit at the wide array of marks he’d just left on my neck and chest, undeniably exposing us. 
“Right you are.” I giggle back, leaning in for another kiss.  This time sweeter, softer.
I was definitely wearing this dress again for him.
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  hello!! oh my god!! it has been so long since i've posted a fic. finals are over! i am free! i promise we will be back to a more normal schedule now (can i do weekly fics? who knows. i'll try). as usual, thank you for any and all reblogs, likes and comments. it's been a long time since i've even thought about writing, so i hope this is up to everyone's standards. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins office party challenge. so, you know. look at the other fics there too! sorry for clearly not knowing anything about card games. also also, just a fun fact. i envisioned readers dress being meredith grey's prom dress from s2ep27.. hehe. okay, i've already talked enough. thank you thank you thank you for reading and supporting!!!
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o4i0n · 5 months
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do u guys think miguel gets hard if ur nice to him ., miguel nation what do we think 
reblogs, comments & likes r highly appreciated !
it’s not like you being nice is anything out of the ordinary—if anything, it’s one of the things that comes the most naturally to you and what others notice whenever they catch you around. your care comes in the form of small, gentle reminders, shared smiles when your eyes meet another’s, or asking how things are when you pass by someone else to make simple conversation. nothing special, really, but it’s sweet. 
miguel o’hara thinks that it’s too sweet, but it’s more of a ‘him’ problem, if anything. he’s not even supposed to be this worked up over something as careless as your hand brushing against his shoulder to let him know that you’re there for him that’s coupled with a chipper ‘bye!’ thrown his way before you turn around and leave, but he is. every time you leave him be, the throbbing ache that settles between his legs grows a lot heavier, and he knows that if he deals with it, it would just make things worse. 
it’s not like he has any plans to stop, though. he may be growing tired of the countless times he’s caught himself thinking about you, the image of your pretty self occupying his mind so much that he swears he sees you even when he closes his eyes, but the scenarios that he’s so keen on turning into a reality make the job a whole lot easier. there may be a twinge of guilt that crosses his mind after he spills into his hand once he’s done fucking himself raw into his fist, but he tries not to thinking about it too much. even when you’re not there, you’re still assisting him in some way. 
which is why he thinks that the universe is playing one massive, fucked-up prank on him when you chose the worst time to drop by his office—that dark, secluded area away from everyone else that he considers an office, anyway—and get greeted with the sight of him biting down on his fist while he furiously ruts into his hand in an attempt to get off. the need that emanates off his body is palpable; no matter how fast he’s stroking himself or how desperately he’s letting his fingers swipe over his leaking tip as pre-come trickles down the remainder of his length, he still can’t come. right now, the sounds that he’s making have more emotion than in any of the words he’s spoken to you, or to anyone, for that matter. it doesn’t make it easier that he’s suddenly terrified of how you’d treat him after seeing that spectacle of pure desperation on his part once he notices you’re there. 
but you, being you, are nothing short of understanding. when miguel asks you to leave (well, he kind of shouts at you because you were never supposed to see anything like that), you’re so caught up by what you saw that you stupidly offer to help him out, your voice and demeanor taking on your trademark shyness. 
miguel is many things, and you know him to be an incredibly efficient man. everything that follows is a blur, and you end up sprawled out on his desk, your clothes haphazardly tugged out of the way so that he could take up up on your offer. 
“you’re too fuckin’ nice,” he whines, wasting no time to peel away your panties and drag his fingers over your entrance. it almost sounds like he’s complaining at the fact that you are the way you are, but he doesn’t say anything. as his fingers curiously prod at your pussy to spread you nicely for him, his free hand is wrapped around his cock, dripping with his own arousal as it lays heavy in his fingers. 
a soft whimper slips out of your lips as he toys with your body, and it’s only sinking in now that you’re not sure if you can take all of him. but he needs help, right? he needs to feel better, so you keep your legs apart for him while he rubs the head of his cock on your sensitive clit. 
when he hears that, it takes all of his self-control to not sink his cock deep into your sweet little cunt right then and there. “i just—s’too much for a guy to take,” he mumbles, trying to push his tip past your soaked folds, because he’s so nice to let you off easy for now since he knows he’s big. “i never know if you’re teasing or not.” and it’s true; the way you tread so carefully and so gently with everyone, especially with him, makes him wonder whether or not this is your way of being coy. “it’s like you’re begging me to fuck you.” 
miguel doesn’t know where all these words are coming from because he knows for a fact that he’s not all that open with anything, much less with things this personal. however, there’s something about the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes and being completely exposed in a way he’s fantasized about for so long that it sends him reeling. 
you’ve been so nice for him, going above and beyond for something you don’t even need to do; of course he needs to return the favor by making you feel good too! it’s only fair, after all, that he shows his very specific way of thanking you. 
the moment you give him the go, he slides right into you, your wetness and his pre-come making it easier for him to finally feel what it is he’s been dreaming about for so long. he can’t stop the low moan that escapes him when he feels your warm walls enveloping his cock, your pussy so accommodating and welcoming, just like you. he’s so relieved that it’s not his hand that’s making him feel this way anymore; immediately, he wants to bottom out, to bury himself so deep inside you that he’s positive his tip nudges against your cervix. he never thought that you’d be so kind as to let him fuck you, and he’s so eager to draw out all those sounds and reactions when you let him take you. 
he pushes in deeper, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit because he knows it’ll make you whine. “don’t think i can control myself, pretty girl,” he groans out, all the sensations hitting him like a ton of bricks, and he’s resisting the urge to move right after as you’re adjusting to him. you’re equally as fucked out as miguel and he’s not even all the way in yet. “i won’t stop until you’re crying for me, okay?” 
first time dabbling into smut writing so please be kind nyahaha also if there r grammatical errors no there aren't haha wdym
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french-goodbye · 8 months
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please never fall in love again
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pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: dating steve harrington is hard, especially when girls keep hitting on him.
notes: i wrote this a while ago but eventually forgot about it in the midst of all my wips lol. title from the song please never fall in love again by ollie mn.
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you stare at the back of your boyfriend's head with narrowed eyes and your chin resting on your hands, an anger you know you shouldn't be feeling boiling beneath the surface of your skin. he, of course is none the wiser, as he is to most things, just chatting with eddie completely carefree by the bar.
you love steve harrigton, you really do. you think you fell in love with him on your first date and never really fell out of it. you've already planned your whole life with him, from getting married and having kids to growing old with him and sitting side by side on a wrap around porch. he's sweet, kind, he's great with kids and it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes and great in bed.
his biggest flaw, however, is not exactly his fault. the worst thing about dating steve harrigton is the amount of women who hit on him on a daily basis. whether it's old ladies at the grocery store telling him he looks like their dead husbands or bored soccer moms looking for a little thrill or, the worst of all, the girls your age who slip him their phone number in old receipts over the counter at family video. these women are always there, like blood sniffing sharks, somehow finding a way to make a suggestive comment or a flirty joke.
most of the time, it doesn't really bother you even when it does happen in front of you. steve's the kind of guy who'd never cheat on you, simply because of who he is and how obsessed with you he is. sometimes, however, they can get a little too close and personal and you can't help but wish steve was a little less attractive. just a little.
and it's not that you don't trust him either, he's always quick and firm to shut them down when it happens. it's that they're the ones you don't trust, the girls with big permed blonde hair and fake tans and bright pink lipstick who look at you disdainfully when they realize you're together because they can barely take their eyes off of him for long enough to notice you're standing right next to him.
you're out at a bar celebrating jonathan's birthday when it happens this time, steve and eddie having offered to get everyone another round, the two of them leaning against the bar talking while they wait when a girl from the booth in the corner approaches them. she's clearly a little bit more than tipsy and obviously focused on steve as she talks to them, avidly taking him in and resting her hand on his forearm. he doesn't even blink, just smoothly leans away from her and tells her something that makes her leave as fast as she arrived.
you can barely hear nancy as she complains about her male coworkers on her summer job, as you heatedly stare at his stupidly nice hair and broad shoulders as your boyfriend laughs at something eddie said, hand scratching his neck. you're still watching him with scrunched eyebrows and a sour expression when you feel robin poking your cheek, making you look at her and gently slap her hand away.
"why are you poking me?"
"why are you staring at steve like he kicked your puppy?" she asks, frowning, looking back and forth between the two of you like a tennis match.
"i'm not" she gives you a flat look with raised brows. "fine," you huff. "why do women always hit on him? we can't take him anywhere"
"no idea, you tell me"
"urgh" you groan, throwing your arms around her and resting your head on her shoulder. "god, i hate men"
"amen sister" you hang onto her for a second as she takes a noisy sip of her empty drink through her straw and taps your back sympathetically a few times before gently pushing you away as steve and eddie walk back to your table, drinks in hands and still chatting distractedly.
she softly claps her hands, enthusiastically and telling you a quiet "yay" as she turns back to nancy and jonathan, as the two argue wether or not their coworkers are sexist (they totally are).
you're still laughing at robin's drunken antics when steve comes to your side again and sets your new drink on the table in front of you, resting his hand on your lower back. you let him but when he leans over you to press a kiss to your hair, you promptly dodge away from him and out of his reach. from the corner of your eye, you can see how he frowns at that and silently watches you for a second as you pretend to listen to what nancy says.
his hand on your lower back climbs all the way up to the back of your neck so he turn your head his away, forcing you to look at his big brown eyes staring at you like you just kicked his puppy and you almost feel guilty. almost.
"what's wrong?" he asks.
you shrug, "nothing's wrong."
"are you mad at me or something?"
"no" you slowly shake your head in negative, shrugging.
"gimme a kiss then" he rests one of his hands on your face tilting your head his way while the other on your neck guides your face to his. you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek and look away, accidentally making eye contact with the girl who just hit on him. she's watching the two of you, quickly looking away when she notices she was caught staring.
"you saw that, huh" he tells you, hands settling on your waist instead so he can look at you.
"hard not to" you huff, picking invisible lint from your pants.
"then you know nothing happened"
"of course i know that, i trust you" you complain as you roll your eyes and gesticulate to show your frustration "but i-it just makes so insanely angry when they touch you like that, like they have any right to-" you stop your ranting mid sentence when you realize the look on his face. "what? why are you looking at me like that?"
"nothing" he clears his throat and looks down to uselessly smooth non existing wrinkles on your top. you watch him though narrowed eyes and gasp when it hits you, making him look at you again. "what?"
"you like it when i'm jealous" you accuse, lightly poking his chest.
"no, i don't"
"yes, you do. i can't believe i never noticed it before" you huff an incredulous laugh, remembering all the times girls hit on him in front of you and he said nothing but affirmations of how much he's in love with you and how he could never want somebody else, acting more attentive and affectionate than usual later, pressing you against his body and kissing kissing kissing you until he was the only thing on your mind.
"okay, it's not what you're thinking" he replies running a hand through his hair nervously.
"what am i thinking, harrington?" you ask, lifting one eyebrow as a smirk makes it's way to your lips.
"it's not an ego thing" you laugh softly at him, letting your fingers run soothingly through the hair at the nape of his neck, finally giving into the temptation to get your hands on him. "it's just- i like knowing how much you want me just for yourself, how much you care about me."
you stare at him for a moment, taking in his sincere brown eyes and his fluffy hair, feeling impossibly endeared by the boy in front of you. he fidgets under your stare, so you smooth your hands down his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt.
"well, i do care... a lot" you tell him, pretending to be coy and batting your eyelashes at him. "but it's not like i blame her"
"what?" he looks at you blankly, confused.
"i mean, look at you" you pull him closer and then closer still, still smirking. "those nice brown eyes, the pretty hair, those shoulders... nevermind how much of a charmer you are. damn harrington, no wonder women keep throwing themselves at you."
"babe" he groans embarrassedly, "they're not throwing themselves-" he dramatically drops his forehead on your shoulder making you laugh at his discomfort, letting brown strands of hair slip through your fingers as you comfortingly pet his hair and he squeezes your waist in reprimand.
"it's true!"
he pulls you closer by the grip he has on your waist and burrows his face in the crook of your neck in lieu of an answer. you let him have it even though you would like to see his face and the way his blush is probably spreading from his cheek to his neck and rest your chin into his shoulder as you hug him.
"but one of these days i'll have to step in and defend your honor"
"please don't" he pulls away and cups your neck, thumbs brushing your cheek and staring at you disapprovingly, his eyelashes touching at the corners, the hint of a smile still on his face.
"i don't know, maybe i'll have to challenge them to a duel to the death" you disagree and look at him from under your eyelashes. he gives you an affectionate look that'd make you nauseous were it not directed at you and presses a long lingering kiss to your lips.
"shut up" he whispers against your lips. you gladly do, at least until eddie and robin start throwing balled up paper napkins at your head. it's worth it though.
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tragedybunny · 5 months
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Just some random Astarion Relationship Headcanons
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Astarion loves to give you little gifts, just don’t ask where he acquired them if you don’t really want to know. 
He’s still an unapologetic pickpocket, thief, and graverobber. (They’re dead, they can’t use it.)
These days, he does tend to take more care to target those with wealth enough to not miss what he pilfered.
This does occasionally land the two of you in trouble. Astarion knows you'll always have his back though, even if you scold him later. 
He adores it when you banter with him and give him sass. If you don’t he might feel guilty for his own mouth sometimes. 
He doesn’t want you to treat him like he’s made of glass all the time, but he cherishes the way you comfort him when he does need it. 
He’s always up for a new adventure, he’s got 200 years of living to catch up on, but the best part is you’re there with him. 
The pair of you come up with the most cloyingly sweet nicknames. It's half to purposely annoy everyone around you and half because you are genuinely stupidly in love with each other. 
Astarion has promised he'll protect you no matter what, just like you've always protected him. 
You're the sexiest thing in the whole world to your loving Vampire. Yes, even that time you had too much to drink and threw up and cried in front of him. 
He's not letting you live that down though, since you're still teasing him about the first time he tried to bite you. 
You persuade him to at least go check in on the other Spawn, and to be honest, it's kind of nice not worrying about the sun for a little while. 
You don't try to push him into any sort of relationship with them though, just giving him the space to figure it out. 
He still likes to drink your blood. Not really in any amount for sustenance, you just taste amazing, and he likes how close he feels to you during it.
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porcalinecunt · 29 days
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𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ‘𝐄𝐌 𝐔𝐏!
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🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wondered what boothill has that lasso for . . ♡
·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
cw — ftm!reader. mean dom!boothill. crossdressing. bondage. fingering. (reluctant) praising. dumbification. squirting.
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : boothill brainrot has me going hogwild for him hmmphmmammm. my last post abt him has been popping off lately, i hear your cries boothill nation and i'm here to serve! enjoy ~♡
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“quit whinin’ boy, will ya?” 
he rasped, swallowing another bullet. the taste of lead spread in his mouth, crunching noises from the ground up ammo made you flinch a bit. 
your wispy gown was bunched up to your thighs, held in place with the rope he uses as a lasso outside of the bedroom. every curve was shown in it’s full glory, soft flesh suffocated from the harsh material. you sat on your knees with your wrists tied tightly behind your back, rendering you helpless as you couldn’t even close your legs. you could only watch helplessly as the ranger pumped his metal fingers in and out of your soaked cunny. his cold palm pressed up against your clit, overwhelming you with an electrifying friction no other man could give you. 
“mm..b-boothi–” 
smack!
you flinched as your thighs instinctively tried to press themselves shut, much to the amusement of your robotic boyfriend. a shit eating grin spread across his lips, flashing his shark-like teeth. 
“what did i say baby..? too cute to understand now?” 
the bullet between his teeth moved up and down, his speech slightly glitched at the very term ‘cute’. if only he could spit out what he really ment, but then again, his sarcastic tone dripping with faux sympathy spoke volumes. boothill was a sweetheart at his metal core, but if you asked so nicely, he might flick his own switch just to see you fall apart at his touch. you were too adorable to turn down. 
you shook your head, syrupy eyes stared back into his bloodshot ones. a silent beg for release, added on by your impatient grinding. two teasing fingers were no longer enough for you, no, you needed him to do his absolute worst. fucking you while bound like the good little minx you were for the hunk of steel. to hear his annoyed tone forced to say sweet nothing while his body said otherwise. maybe, he might get the gun involved. none of it mattered. 
through mindless babbles and high pitched whines, you pleaded for more. the ranger’s eyes flicked up towards your fucked out face as he swallowed the last bullet. you were pulled forwards by the rope, forced to face boothill’s mean grin. 
“use your words doll.” 
you tried, you really did, but whatever you wanted couldn’t come out right. almost like you short circuited, spitting out all of your desires. from him fingerblasting you ‘till you soaked his whole forearm to being stuffed to the brim by his synthetic cock, his ridiculous girth stretching your cunny till you cry. as you begged, his fingers quicked until the noises were too loud to even hear him praise you in your ear. you cracked your eyes open and almost orgasmed at what was being done to you. three fingers pumping themselves in and out of you, with boothill using the strength from his forearm to dig himself deeper until he touched your cervix. your thighs shook violently, shifting the rope to reveal the marks it’s already left on your soft flesh. you were close, and he could tell so easily. the way you clenched around his fingers to how quickly your moans subsided into lewd silence was made so stupidly obvious. 
“nasty one aren’t ya? y’gonna cum already?” 
he chuckled, nipping your earlobe as the final knots in your stomach finally snapped. tugging onto his leather vest, you came and came hard. your vision blurred and your legs went numb while you sobbed out in both shock and pleasure. boothill drank up the view in front of him, his pretty baby fucked out and dumber then a lost trotter. your once flawless sundress now ruined at the bottom with the top slipping off of your shoulders. of course, the rope that’s definitely gonna leave some lasting marks, which is exactly what he wanted. 
after all, you’ll come running back with it in hand the moment they fade. ♡
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© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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the first time it happens, bakugou is caught completely off guard and is therefore unable to properly act upon it. 
he’s just gotten off his patrol, groaning loudly as he sinks into his plush desk chair. he still needs to type up his report and go over the notes left by his assistant before he can call it a day, but as he waits for his monitor to boot up, exhaustion creeps over him. 
as a rule, bakugou did not usually nap in order to keep his strict sleep schedule. but after a long week of work, he can’t help but let his eyes drift shut and a yawn escape as he lays his head back. 
that is, of course, when the door to his office opens. and there’s only one person brave enough to open the door without knocking first. “hey.”
“hi,” you smile, stepping inside to place a bottle of water and a pack of electrolytes on his desk. “will i see you at home soon?” 
he glances at his monitor, the clock in the corner reading 4:48pm, twelve minutes before the workday is over. wincing, he rubs his temple. “might still be a while, sorry.”
“do you want me to stay and keep you company?”
it’s a tempting offer, but he shakes his head. “no, ’s alright. just pick up some takeout and i’ll meet you at home soon.” 
“okay,” you agree, but only because you both know that after you grab some takeout, you’ll be right back here to keep him company anyway. “just don’t work yourself too hard, promise?” 
“yeah, yeah,” he mutters, letting you press a kiss to his temple. 
“alright, see you later, pumpkin!” 
bakugou pauses, brows furrowing. “wait–”
you’re already sailing out of the room though, and bakugou slumps back into his chair. you did not just call him, dynamight, pumpkin. that was something people named orange tabbys, not the number two pro with the highest offensive stats on the charts.
_____
he wishes that he could say the first time was the last, but it turns out that pumpkin wasn’t the worst nickname you could bestow upon him. 
you’re just sauntering out of the bedroom when you join him in the kitchen the next morning, freshly showered after his jog and fixing you a cup of coffee. you’re not a person until at least 9am, responding to his good morning, baby with a grumble as presses the mug into your hands.
you wake up a little after you’ve had a few sips, smiling at him over the rim of your mug as you murmur, “thanks, sweetpea.”
bakugou, who’d been gulping down a glass of water, nearly chokes, sputtering, “babe—”
“do you want to make waffles?” you ask, smiling so sweetly at him that he doesn’t have the heart to reprimand you. so he just doesn’t answer right away, wary of any more saccharine sweet nicknames you might fire off. 
“katsuki?”
“yeah, waffles. sure,” he replies stupidly, watching as you nod and begin pulling ingredients from the cupboards, criminally oblivious to the quarter-life crisis he’s having. 
_____
bakugou doesn’t know what’s going on with you. he’s heavily considering a trip to the er, because you must have been hit with some sort of quirk that makes you call him disgustingly corny pet names.
“nice catch, cupcake!” you applaud upon his return to the agency after apprehending a villain. one of the interns starts to laugh, but quickly smothers it when the pro-hero shoots him a withering stare.
“looking good, sugarplum,” you compliment when he’s in the middle of a quick, post-lunch workout in his office. he’d stopped mid curl, almost dropping 50 pounds on his foot. 
“thanks, muffin,” you grin after getting his signature on the report he’d missed earlier in the day. he tells kirishima, who’d been there trying to steal a protein bar from his desk and is starting to laugh, to shut the fuck up or get out.
it wasn’t that he hated pet names (he thought they could be cute). what he hated was being referred to as various pastries that sound like they’d come out of his dad’s cookbook. 
but he could handle it. could handle you because, well, he loved you. and you make sacrifices for those you love, even if it means his friends and fellow pros stop calling him dynamite and start calling him honeycakes instead. besides, you’d get over…whatever kind of phase this was eventually.
and you do. 
“goodnight, lovebug,” you murmur, just as he’s on the precipice of sleep. but he’s wide awake now, sitting up to flick the bedside lamp on.
“how do you just say things like that?” he asks, genuinely bewildered. 
you rub the sleep from your eyes, blinking yourself awake. “like what?”
“the names!” he groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “they’re ridiculous.” 
“they’re not ridiculous,” you huff indignantly as you turn to face him. “they’re cute, like you.” 
“i am not cute,” he scoffs, batting your hand away when you poke his cheeks. “you just— you can’t keep callin’ me shit like cupcake or lovebug. just pick somethin’ else to call me.” 
you’re looking at him with a shit-eating grin on your face, and bakugou feels he’s made a mistake of some kind. “should i call you my love instead?”
heat crawls up his neck as he averts his gaze. “that’s alright.”
you shuffle closer. “yeah? what about…darling?” 
“you can use that, sure,” he shrugs, hoping he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels. 
you’re straddling his lap now, dipping your head down to whisper,
“what if i called you daddy?” 
he freezes, fingers digging into your hips as your teeth graze the shell of his ear. 
you get your answer when he flips you both over so you’re trapped against the mattress, swallowing your gasp with a heated kiss.
BONUS:
you hum contentedly as kirishima places a stack of bills into your waiting palm. “i told you he would break in less than a week.”
the redhead groans loudly, lamenting his empty wallet. “man, i thought he was stronger than this!”
“if i’d called him something like ‘kitten,’ this whole thing would have gone a lot faster,” you muse, shaking your head. 
kirishima, clearly having not learned from his recent loss, suggests, “i’ll buy you lunch for a week if you call him that during the board meeting later.”
“i’ll buy you lunch for two weeks if you do it,” you counter. 
“deal!”
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zriasstuff · 2 months
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Mercy-Draco Malfoy x reader smut
Warnings: 18+ mature oneshot (1.7k words), barely any plot; just porn, sub!draco
To the person that requested a Draco Malfoy fanfic like 10 days ago: here it finally is
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Draco inhales sharply through his teeth as you go over his bleeding wound with a cotton ball. You had told him a thousand times already to not get into a fight again, yet he just wouldn’t listen and did so nonetheless.
“C'mon they deserved it, you understand right?”, he tried to justify his actions, to which you shook your head in disapproval.
“You can’t just go around acting like a dick and then expect people to clean up after you all the time”, you lecture him, hoping he’ll see his wrongdoings.
“Well for now I got you, don’t I?”, he smugly retorts, hissing along the way as the cotton ball touches his wound again. What a prick he could be sometimes.
“For now”, you warn him sternly. Draco was well aware he’d have to play nice with you, his close friend who genuinely helped him when he needed it.
You, of course, didn't want to enable Draco, but he did show his gratitude in pleasant ways. Ways such as treating you to stuff in Hogsmeade, helping you with homework, sweet talking you to professors, and so on.
Today's wound landed on his lower torso, something he’d gotten from a guy on the Gryffindor quidditch team, whom he insulted as mudblood. Being a pure blood yourself, you were aware of your guys' hate towards muggles, but you didn’t condone it.
Seeing his pained facial expression, pulling all types of grimaces, you say “I know it hurts, but that will only help you to learn your lesson.”
“And what lesson is that? That I have to show less mercy next time?”, Draco stupidly grins when failing to acknowledge his fault.
“Sure, tough guy”, you roll your eyes at him.
Now, he was almost all fixed up and you just had to put a large, squared band aid over his cleaned wound.
As you lean in towards his lower torso, you hear a huffed grunt coming from Draco, who is looking a bit thrown.
“What is it, did I hurt you?”, you ask him.
Draco wasn’t hurt. More so, he was rather feeling something completely opposite.
Innerly, he started replaying the moment in his head of when your tits made the lightest contact with his dick. They had brushed over his groin, when you were leaning in to put the band aid on the wound.
Of course you hadn’t noticed, but he certainly couldn’t forget. His mind was going through all sorts of dirty, nasty, mental images. That one little touch caused all restraint to fly out the window, and all he could think of was how you would look naked, tits uncovered, bouncing in front of him.
How would fuck your tits and afterwards paint them with his cum. The position you were in also allowed you to give him a perfect blowjob. Draco was sitting on a chair and you knelt in front of him because it was the easiest way for you to treat him.
Surely, you wouldn’t have imagined that this position would cause his poor mind to fantasize to such naughty extent.
It became all too much in his head, such a reaction from so little touch. Was he really that horny and desperate? Draco tried to block it out, to not make this weird.
But seeing you like this, having felt you in such a way, simply made you too irresistible.
Draco didn’t even know what got into him, but he bent down promptly, grabbed your ponytail and told you exactly what he wanted- no craved right now.
“Please suck me off right now”, he suddenly muttered in your ear, giving you the most troubled look you’ve ever seen.
“What the fu- what the hell is wrong with you?!”, you exclaim at his words. You couldn’t fully believe what you just heard.
Draco pulls back again, letting go of your ponytail in the process. He seemed slightly ashamed, but you could tell he wouldn’t let go of this easily. Hell, if he played his cards right…
He himself couldn’t even fully grasp why he wanted this so badly all of a sudden. His mind was definitely fucking with him. But with all the stress he was under- being involved with the Death Eaters, and having no way of venting- all he needed was you right now.
“Please, just do it?”, he appeared defeated. You’d never seen him so frantic before.
“Look, I really need this, I need you. You’ll help me with anything, right?”
Needing to come up with a response, you go over all the possibilities in your head. You arrive at a well thought out conclusion seconds later.
“You’ll explain yourself later”, you firstly demand from him. You saw that Draco was completely out of his element, but that’s not why you agreed. Doing this for him would have him at your mercy, maybe you would enjoy holding this over his head later on. Win win, right?
“Ready?”, you coo at him before your hand makes contact with the growing bulge in his pants. Draco winces a little, letting out a relieved moan.
From all the pent up frustration, he desperately needed this. While you stroke around his bulge, he already starts jerking his growing length against your palm. That’s when you give his cock a warning squeeze.
“This isn’t up to you”, you talk down to him. Innerly you loved every second of this. Draco going from harsh and brassy to obedient.
Abruptly, he stops moving, so you carry on with palming his cock until it’s visibly hard through his pants. Here and there a little wince escapes his mouth, wanting immediate pleasure instead of tedious teasing.
After enough playing around, you start to unzip his pants with your mouth. You make sure to glance at him while doing it, just to see how crazy it drives him. His stunned reaction was so worth it.
Every second he relished and wished you would just take him in already. When you remove the last layer of clothing, you’re shocked to see how much bigger he is than you’d ever encountered. From your eyes widening and your mouth gaping slightly, he could tell his size turned you on.
His cock was incredibly hard and leaking drops of precum already from all the teasing, practically aching to be sucked and toyed with.
Your tongue licks a long stripe along his shaft first, which evokes a small whimper from Draco. Instantly he shuts himself up, wanting to control himself, but you want to hear more of those delicious sounds.
So, you keep peppering his cock with kitten licks, especially at his leaking tip. No longer able to hold himself back, Draco fully lets himself go and lets out a breathy whimper.
“Please stop with the teasing already”, he whines after having already endured that much.
Luckily you are feeling generous, so you slide him into your mouth, his big cock disappearing inch by inch. When it glided fully in, it hit the back of your throat, making you gag.
Draco had to forcefully keep his hands on his thighs, otherwise he’d destroy your throat right now. His cock felt so good in your warm, wet mouth. He was amused, seeing you gag from his length.
Not wanting to back out, you ignore your gag reflex. You keep your tongue flat, and start bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Instantly, you feel the saliva running down from the corners of your mouth.
It was messy and sloppy, and the whimpers coming from Draco were heavenly. While trying your hardest to not gag, you continued sucking and twirling your tongue around him like a lollipop. Of course you made sure that his balls didn’t feel left out either. With one free hand you gently massaged them, rolling them in your hand.
Soon enough the stimulation had gotten to Draco. The way you glanced up at him, doe eyed, salivating on cock, awakened some strange feelings in him.
A few more seconds of pure ecstasy, and he started violently bucking his hips, signaling his oncoming orgasm.
More uncontrollable whimpers and curses left his mouth. Finally, you tipped him over the edge when you let his cock hit the back of your throat repeatedly.
His ropes of cum quickly dripped down your throat- shame that you could barely taste it as he was in so deep.
“That was fucking amazing”, he sighs at you, completely out of breath.
With his cock still hanging out, even though it’s soft, you have a fun idea. You spit in your mouth, and as Draco watches, he has no idea what you’re up to.
His eyes widen, when he sees your hand move towards his cock again.
He curses loudly, when you start to pump his shaft. It was absolutely too much for him, especially after he just came.
“Tell me, did you come?”, you ask Draco in a teasing tone. He didn’t answer as he was too focused on the mix of pleasure and pain that was being inflicted on his poor, overused cock.
Completely ignoring the question, you ask it again, yet when there was no answer this time you start pumping him even faster than before. “FUCK”, Draco yelps out, as he clings onto his chair with both hands.
“Earlier when you came in my mouth, did you ask for permission?”. Of course he didn’t, that’s why you asked.
“No”, he whines, looking dazzled. “Stop fucking with me”, he groans, but secretly he enjoyed being messed around with. Maybe that’s what he needed, someone assertive, yet caring.
The agonizing pain was becoming too overpowering second by second.
“Ok, please let me off, I’ll be good next time”, he continues whining in his needy tone.
“Who said there’ll be a next time”, you coo, “and don’t lie, you’re enjoying this”. You continue torturing his cock until he finally can’t take it anymore, twitching uncontrollably in your hand.
As you keep roughly squeezing and pumping his cock, Draco painfully comes a second time. He throws his head back before looking at you again, meanwhile you seductively licked his cum on your hand. In the end, Draco managed to huff out a hoarse “thank you”.
After this blissful experience, Draco would be making sure, that there would in fact be a next time.
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Text
The ‘bad’ kind of desire
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pairing: soobin x reader
synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.
warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it
a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭
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“Am I bad person?”
Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.
"What?"
And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head. 
It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”
His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.
Soobin.
Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.
Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with. 
Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.
"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"
You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression. 
He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."
“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.
Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.
Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge? 
“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”
You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.
He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.
You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type. 
But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.
“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“
“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.
Really, why were you so concerned now? 
Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different. 
Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.
Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile. 
Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.
He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.
In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.
“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“
Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”
“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.
You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.
Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?
Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."
"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.
He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."
—-
You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.
Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.
He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.
He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.
But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.
You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.
And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.
You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.
But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.
It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.
Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.
And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.
Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.
Soobin was different though, special.
You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.
He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.
—-
"Fuck," he panted, "please,"
The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.
"Please,"
Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.
"Please."
"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.
Close enough.
"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"
He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.
"I need it~"
The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"
Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"
He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.
He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.
Not with you in the next room.
He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.
Because he would only focus on you.
You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.
But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.
He wanted to hear you.
Not some substitute for the real thing.
He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.
Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.
"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.
You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.
You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.
"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"
Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.
Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.
Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.
"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."
Fuck, so that was what it was.
His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.
You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.
God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.
Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.
But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.
In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.
You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.
He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.
You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.
God, that’s what he needed right now.
Needed you.
Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.
Not you fucking someone else in a different room.
Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.
"More."
He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.
It wasn’t enough, not nearly 
"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"
He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.
He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.
“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.
"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.
"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"
He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.
More.
"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.
He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.
"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.
"Your's." He moans in reply.
And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.
Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.
But it doesn't matter.
Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.
Up,
"Slut." You whisper.
and down,
"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.
over,
"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.
and over,
"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.
harder,
"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.
faster,
"Mine." Across his cheek.
deeper.
Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-
"-Cum for me baby,"
And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.
Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.
"Fuck,"
And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"
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a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭
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stylesloveclub · 7 months
Text
sunshine (making out blurb)
first blurb for grumpyrry x sunshine virgin y/n!!!
sunshine masterlist
+++
Y/n’s math homework is always a little less horrible when she’s doing it with Harry.
When it’s just her doing calculus by herself, it’s miserable. She gets stressed out as soon as she gets a problem wrong, overwhelmed by all the weird symbols and shortcuts that she doesn’t know. Calculus is just so stupidly hard! She usually has to spend an hour just reading the textbook and finding videos to help her understand whatever they just learned in class… until she eventually gives up and goes to bed. 
It’s different with Harry though. There’s something about the way he explains things to her that just makes it make sense. She’s told him time and time again that he should be the one up there teaching the class instead of her stupid professor. He makes math easy. A big part of it might be because he’s right there to catch her mistakes and answer her questions if she gets stuck, but also he’s just a really good teacher. He breaks concepts down for her in a way that isn’t all complicated and math-y, but like a fun little puzzle. And if she doesn’t get it, he’ll do the problem right in front of her, explaining every step and pausing to make sure she gets it. He’s patient and motivating, and pushes her to solve problems by herself, even if she’s scared that she’ll do it wrong. 
Plus, he gives her a nice little kiss as a reward every time she solves a question right, so you best believe she’s not giving up until she gets every damn question in that textbook right! 
“Good job sunshine,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. 
They’re sitting thigh to thigh on her bed, y/n’s ipad in her lap and her textbook right in front of her criss-crossed legs. She’s in a cutsie little pajama set, matching white pj shorts and a tiny tank top with little roses printed all over it. Harry sits with his legs spread out in front of him, with one of his hands gently resting on her back as he leans over her shoulder and checks her work. She smiles cutely, the apples of her cheeks rounding out as Harry’s pink lips pucker against her cheek as a reward. Not only does she feel proud of herself for getting the math right, but she also feels her heart do a backflip every time Harry gives her a kiss. Who knew doing her math homework could be so fun! 
She flips her pencil around in her fingers, turning her head to the side so she can get a proper reward. Kisses on the cheek are good motivation for when she’s struggling and she needs a little something to keep her going through a hard problem… but she got this one right. Her eyes meet his bright green ones, which are glimmering softly. He’s already smiling at her, his thumb tracing soft little circles on her back, and he doesn’t deny her when she leans in for a soft, sweet, and innocent kiss on the lips. In fact, when she tries to pull away from her soft little peck, he follows her forward, refusing to disconnect their lips until he gets a few more kisses in. 
It makes her giggle against his lips, pushing on his shoulders. “I only have one more,” she says, not wanting to get distracted when she’s so close to being done.
The dimple in his cheek deepens, and he stares at her softly. His eyes are so intense, as if he’s looking straight into her heart, as if he’s trying to see into the depth of her soul so he can really understand her. They flicker back and forth between hers, filled with just pure adoration. “If you get this last one right, I have a surprise for you,” he whispers mischievously.
Y/n’s eyes widen, a flash of excitement flickering over her irises. “What?” she asks eagerly, her hands landing on his thigh.
His lips twist in an impish smile, and he nods towards her homework. “Do it and you’ll see.”
She gets it right in one try, zero questions asked. It seems like kisses and little surprises are really all it takes to teach y/n math. She’s looking back at him with giddy eyes, basking as he gives her one last kiss for doing her homework correctly. “Go look in my bag,” he mumbles against her lips, one of his hands coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She pulls away from him, giving him a suspicious look with squinted eyes and pursed lips, but he just smiles and nods his chin towards his bag.
She gets up and cautiously approaches, peeking back at him nervously. All he does is smile, leaning back onto her pillows and putting his hands behind his back. She unzips his bag, and inside of it… 
“Oh,” y/n’s eyes round out as soon as she sees it. “Harry,” she whimpers, turning around to face him with a pout. Inside of his bag is the cutest pink stuffed elephant, with a little elephant nose that makes y/n want to cry. The elephant has animated eyes and big floppy ears, and it’s soft and fuzzy and just makes her heart melt because it’s so her and it’s so Girl and her grumpy boyfriend just knows her so well!!! She picks up the elephant and runs over to her bed with it and she gets extra excited when she sees how perfectly her new friend fits in with the rest of her pink stuffies and pillows. She climbs straight on top of Harry, putting the elephant next to her worn out stuffed bunny, and throws her arms around his shoulders. 
“Thank you, I love it, it’s so cute,” she babbles, burying her face in his neck. She’s almost getting emotional because there’s absolutely no occasion for him to be getting her gifts, her voice getting a little high pitched and wobbly. Harry smiles like it’s no big deal, his hand petting her hair softly as he chuckles softly. “What’s it for?” she asks, pulling away and looking at him with big round eyes.
He shrugs. “Saw it when I was out last night. Thought you would like it.” 
She stares at him with that endearing little pout, not knowing what to do except to lean in and kiss him. She puts her hands on his face, her fingers cupping his and his smiling cheeks pressed against her palms, and pulls him forward so she can press her lips against his. 
His lips struggle to kiss her back with how big he’s smiling, so in awe of her and how cute she is, but he manages to rest a hand on her hip and pucker his lips against hers. Her hands slide down to hold onto his shoulders, and her fingers twist in his shirt as their lips fold over each other. She loves kissing him, she really does. Whenever she flutters her eyes shut and presses her lips against his, all her worries melt away. Her shoulders relax and her mind goes blank. Harry brings up a hand to cup her jaw, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone softly, just feeling her delicate skin. 
They haven’t gone any further than these innocent kisses so far, except for that first time in his room, when he’d turned what should have been her romantic first kiss into an impromptu makeout sesh. He felt horrible when he found out that he’d tried to casually hook up with her when she hadn’t even had her first kiss! And absolutely sick to his stomach when he realized he’d been her first kiss, and that he had fucked it all up! 
A sweet little sunshine girl like her deserved to have the first kiss of her dreams, he mourned. At a moonlit picnic or in a garden of roses. And he’d given her the worst first kiss. He literally made her cry. 
Since then, there have been plenty of better, sweeter, more romantic kisses, to make up for that teensy little blip of a first kiss – kisses on her front doorstep after the most magical first date, kisses at the park underneath the cherry blossom trees, goodnight kisses in her bed before he tucks her in and heads home for the night. But nothing more than that.
Tonight though… he’s tempted to try a little something more. 
He kisses her lips one final time before pulling away with a soft click, his hand still gently cupping her jaw. His eyes slowly open, and he finds his sunshine already looking right back at him, her eyes wide and moony. Her lips are parted, so soft and delicate and kissable, and she blinks innocently. She’s so cute, so reactive and eager. She’s staring at him like he just gave her the world with that little kiss. 
His fingers trace down from her cheek to her lips, and then to her jawline. With the softest nudge he tilts her head to the side, then brushes her hair off to the side to expose her neck. When his lips skim the sensitive skin right above her pulse point, her breath catches in her throat. Her grip on his shirt tightens, and her thighs tense from where she’s sitting atop him, straddling his hips. 
His lips press against her neck so softly, the most delicate kiss he’s ever pressed against her skin. His eyes flutter shut and he just lingers there, inhaling deeply. She smells like vanilla and sugar cookies. She makes his heart pound and his head spin. His hand on her hip holds on tighter, his fingers dimpling her soft skin as he starts to press more kisses up her neck and around her jawline. 
Y/n’s eyes flutter shut and she tries to regulate her breathing, but her breaths are short and shaky and she can’t think straight. Harry’s breathing sends shivers down her spine, tickling her ear every time he exhales. His cotton candy lips tickle her throat and press down in hot, slow, gentle kisses. She swallows thickly and tries to hold down all the noises that want to escape her, but somehow a breathy moan leaves her lips. She feels herself grow hot and she’s not sure if it’s embarrassment at how weak she sounds, or if she’s just getting all hot from how Harry’s tongue just darted out to lightly tease her neck. 
Harry smiles to himself lightly, deciding to test the waters and suck a little bit at her neck. He forgets, sometimes, just how innocent and inexperienced his angel of a girlfriend is. She gets worked up easily and is so responsive to his touch. Even the lightest of kisses against her throat have her whimpering and floating in another world. He loves it. He can sense how antsy she’s getting now, how she’s shuffling around on his lap and fisting at his shirt. She hopes he can’t tell how sweaty her palms have gotten, and she’d actually die if she knew that he could feel her clenching around nothing through her tiny sleep shorts.
He doesn’t spend too much time on her neck, not wanting to leave any marks without her permission, instead sliding his fingers into her hair and tilting her head down again so it’s no longer thrown back. She lets him maneuver her easily, opening her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her eyebrows pinch together as she briefly looks down at his lips, longingly. She tries to get ahold of herself, but just a few seconds of him loving on her neck have sent her into a spiral. She’s so sensitive, so reactive – she jumps when his hand migrates to her thigh, goosebumps rising as he rubs up and down her bare leg. 
Harry’s eyes are warm and fond as he just stares at her– her pretty eyes and her delicate eyelashes, her lips, her cheeks, her smile. He tries not to linger too much on how cute she looks in her pajamas, how the low neckline accentuates her neck and her collarbones or how the thin material fails to conceal her peaked nipples. If he thinks about it too hard, he’ll get hard. And he doesn’t want that yet, doesn’t want to overwhelm his sweet, pure, innocent sunshine with his horny thoughts. 
He kisses her again as a distraction, slotting their lips together, and it’s sweet and simple and calming. Kissing her is comforting, her lips a safe haven. She could be an angel, for all he knows, with a halo and wings and everything.
“Sunshine,” he murmurs between kisses, “do something for me?”
“Hm?” she hums, hazy and half-paying attention. She stutters a bit when Harry’s tongue flicks at her bottom lip, and then at the seam of her lips. He gives a reassuring kiss.
“Open up f’me a bit.” His hand cups her jaw and he soothingly pets her face, as if coaxing her to part her lips. “Wanna– wanna taste you.”
She can’t help but pause, pulling back from the kiss for just a second to process what he’s said, but she’s nodding yes before any insecurity can fill her mind. “Okay,” she says softly, swallowing nervously. “Um–” she tries to ask this without embarrassing herself, “What do I do with my tongue?”
He continues pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “Jus’– um – lick against mine, sunshine.” He pulls away for just a second, eyes half-hooded and not at all fazed about having to explain this to her. “Dunno how to really explain it. You’ll get the hang of it, though.” 
She nods once more, insecurely, and flutters her eyes shut as Harry leans back in to continue kissing her. His fingers scratch deliciously against her scalp as he licks against her lips again – this time, she opens. His tongue dips in slowly, like soft honey, warm and wet. It’s unfamiliar, sure, but it doesn’t bother her. She tries to mimic the way his jaw falls slack, and how his tongue dips forward and back softly, opening up for him more and more as he continues to gently kiss her. He licks into her again, brushing his tongue against hers and she finds herself not even thinking as she brushes back. Her eyebrows pinch together and her nails start to dig into his back as she unconsciously leans closer to him. 
Their lips move against each other slowly, a sultry dance that’s all brand new to y/n… but god is it hot to have his tongue in her mouth. He’s warm and wet and playful, using his tongue to tease her lower lip while they kiss, flicking against her tongue flirtatiously. A whimper crawls up her throat, needy and desperate for more. He’s showing her things that she’s never experienced before, and all the pent up sexual desire she’s had is bubbling up in her tummy, begging to be released. 
She’s started to move her hips against him in soft rolls, grinding herself down as subtly as she can, and Harry’s hands on her hip seems to be encouraging her, gripping her tightly and pulling her closer and closer. Her arms unravel from around his shoulders and sneak their way down to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding the firm, warm skin of his abdomen. Her hands skim upwards to feel the lines of muscle that line his tummy, and she can’t believe that this green eyed adonis is literally her boyfriend. She lightly tugs on the shirt signaling that she wants it off, and starts whining while her hips move against his and Harry lets out a deep, low groan. 
He gently grabs her hands that are toying with the edge of his shirt and guides them back around his neck. “Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, giving a couple of soft, more tame pecks while his hand slows down her hips. He gives her one firm kiss to her lips to leave her breathless, then traces some more down her neck while she pants up towards the ceiling. Her throat bobs as she swallows thickly, and for the first time, her eyes are filled with lust, arousal, and need. Harry looks just as bad as her, his eyes dark, pupils blown out, lips pink and swollen. 
“Need t’take it slow,” he rasps, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than y/n. 
She takes a deep breath, and nods her head, understanding. He’s doing this for her, saving her firsts so that they can be comfortable and memorable and special special… but god, sometimes she wishes he would just rip her clothes off and stuff his cock inside of her the way Rhysand does in the book she’s reading right now. Virginity is overrated anyway, who cares how she loses it! (she does)
But she agrees nonetheless, rolling off of him with a heavy sigh and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She feels sticky in between her thighs and her heart has not beat at a normal pace for the past ten minutes of kissing Harry. But, whatever. She picks up her new stuffed elephant, petting its floppy ears softly, and thankfully doesn’t notice the way Harry has to subtly adjust his plumped up cocked. 
She just flops down next to him, elephant in hand, kicking her feet in the air behind her, and asks, “What do you think we should name her?”
+++
It’s become a sort of routine for Harry and y/n to hang out after class on Friday nights. 
Monday and Wednesday nights, y/n is usually at the library studying, and on Tuesday/Thursdays, Harry has a math lecture from 6-7:20. Of course, Harry will oftentimes sit at the library with her, maybe do some homework (or usually take a nap) while she reads her biology textbook and takes color coded notes. And on the nights that Harry has his late night lectures, she’ll stay on campus a little later so that they could get dinner together before class. 
But Friday nights are when they really get to see each other. Sunshine is usually too burnt-out by the end of the week to even think about studying, and Harry is more than content to sit at his apartment and play video games while she reads a book in his bed.
It’s their favorite way to hang out after a long week. No loud parties, no stinky rooms, no distractions. Just them, together. 
Blake’s gone back to visit his hometown for the weekend, so Harry and y/n have his apartment all to themselves. That means that instead of hiding out in his room like usual, they’ve migrated out to his living room. Harry’s playing some video game on the TV, filled with blood and war and gory stuff, but he’s turned down the volume so that the gross sounds don’t bother sunshine while she’s reading. She’s got a big hardcover book in her hands (Happy Place by Emily Henry), a book that she’d gotten when they went to Barnes and Noble together last Friday. She’s only just had the chance to start it, though, since she had a big bio midterm earlier today. 
Harry sits shirtless on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in a serious way that looks insanely hot from where y/n is sitting. Her back is resting against the other arm of the couch, facing Harry with her feet up and crossed at the ankle, her pink fuzzy socks almost brushing against his elbows. He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweats (!!!), and his arms just look so… big and yummy. She can see the small freckles and bumps on his tanned back as he hunches over his controller, and can’t tear her eyes away from the shadows of muscles along his back and shoulders. And his heart shaped lips… so pink and plump and kissable…
An amused smirk gradually spreads on Harry’s face, signature dimple denting his cheek as he feels y/n’s hungry eyes feasting on him from the other end of the couch. From the corner of his vision, he can see the way she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, how her eyes are captivated by his bare torso with such fascination. 
He doesn’t think she even realizes how long she’s been staring at him.
He gives her a quick glance, eyes glimmering teasingly, and she realizes that she’s been embarrassingly caught. Quickly, she averts her eyes back down to her book, pretending like nothing happened.
Harry chuckles. “Whatcha starin’ at, sunshine?”
“Nothing,” she hums casually, despite her burning hot cheeks.
He pauses his game, putting the controller down onto the little coffee table next to him, and turns towards her. She refuses to meet his gaze this time, continuing to stare down at the page even though she’s processing about 0% of the words that she reads. No, her brain is exceedingly preoccupied with how her very attractive and very shirtless boyfriend is staring at her right now, with that teasing look in his eye. And that stupid, smug smirk. He’s like a snake about to attack a tiny little garden bunny. 
“Baby…” he goads, but she continues to pretend-read her book. Only when he lightly tickles her sock-covered foot does she pay any attention to him, yelping out and jolting her feet away. He snorts out a laugh as she folds both her feet underneath herself, clumsily protecting herself from Harry’s devilish fingers. It wouldn’t be hard for him to tackle her right now, hold her down on the couch while his fingers dig into her ribs and under her armpits until she's cry-laughing. He’s done it plenty of times before, and has found it to be the most effective way to get her attention… so she puts the book down obediently and looks up at him with a shy smile.
“Hi,” she says innocently, pretending like she hadn’t been ogling him for five minutes straight while he’d been playing his game. She just sits there with her hands in her lap, as if she’s an angel. 
He smiles knowingly. Her longing stares and hungry eyes are her silent indication that she wants a kiss. The type of kiss where he pulls her into his lap, licks into her mouth, and palms at her ass. A real, proper make out. 
She probably doesn’t know that she’s so obvious about it, he thinks – staring at his lips with puppy dog eyes and drooling over his bare chest. She’s trying to play it casual, but he can see the needy glimmer in her eyes. It seems like making out with her that first time in her bedroom opened the floodgates, unleashing something in y/n that had been so innocently contained by her angelic, virginal facade. Ever since then, she’s been giving him these eyes, begging for more. 
He shakes his head to himself, still smirking, before leaning forward to kiss her. This is exactly what she wants, and Harry knows it. Her longing stares and hungry eyes were just her silent way of asking for a kiss, since she’s a little too shy to ask for it straight up.
Their lips fold over each other, a slow kiss, gentle and meant only to subdue y/n. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. He leads the kiss (he always does), so every time he tilts her head, sunshine tilts the other way. When he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. When his teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. And when he licks at the seam of her lips, she opens up for him, just like he taught her. 
He can feel his cock stirring, and forces himself to pull away. It’s a kiss deep enough to satisfy most of sunshine’s needs – to quiet her racing mind and get her focused on just him and nothing else – but it’s also nothing too intense to overwhelm her. And, it’s tame enough for Harry to be able to show some restraint. 
He has to take a second, hovering in front of her with his eyes still closed. His hand is still cupping her jaw, just reveling in the taste of her chapstick that lingers on his lips… he takes a deep, calming breath. Breathe in, hold for seven seconds, then out. He’s strong. 
But… when he opens his eyes, she’s looking up at him with disappointed and longing irises, her bottom lip jutting out sadly. She wants more, her eyes clearly say, and she’s needy for him, her pouted lips tease.
Okay maybe he’s not that strong. 
He’s barely kissed her, and yet her pupils are blown out with desire, breath already catching in her throat. He wonders how disheveled she’d look if he really kissed her. How she’d whimper out little noises if he licked into her mouth, or how her chest would rise and fall while she tries to catch her breath. She’d probably grip onto his shirt, wrap her arms around his neck and twist her fingers into his hair, tugging on it desperately.  And he’d grip her hips, grind her down onto his cock, bite on her bottom lip and suck on her tongue… god, his dick twitches at the thought of it. 
If he were strong, he’d shut his eyes and get a hold of himself – but he’s not. Instead he stares at her pretty lips, slicked and swollen just from that little bit of kissing. His thumb softly brushes against the apple of her cheek, while her eyes only grow wider and more pleading. If he likes her lips so much, then why doesn’t he just get back to kissing her! 
His thumb comes down to tug on her pouty lip so he can watch it bounce back into place. His eyes darken, his nose flares, and his eyebrows furrow, and then he hears her whimper, literally whimper because of how pent up and needy she’s feeling. His resolve crumbles.
If she wants more, he’ll give her more.
He kisses her again, still soft and gentle, but somehow it’s hotter. Needier. Their lips fold over each other over and over again, an eager, spit-slicked exchange. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. 
Y/n is unconsciously lifting herself up to be closer to him, nearly sitting on her knees now, pressing herself upwards and upwards. At this point he should just pull her on top of her, he thinks, so he puts a hand on her hip and coaxes her onto his lap. 
She’s clumsy as she climbs onto him, too concentrated on not messing up their kiss to successfully untangle her own legs (she’s still new to all this), but Harry doesn’t mind it. It’s endearing, how her foot gets stuck underneath her butt as she presses herself closer to him, or how her knee knocks against his hip as she tries to straddle him. His hands gently guide her thighs as she maneuvers herself onto his lap, hands encasing her ribs and steadying her uncoordinated movements.
His thighs spread open in a natural manspread, and he slouches down enough on the couch so that y/n’s a head above him. She has to lean down to keep their lips connected, her hair falling into his face, and her hands tentatively find their way to his shoulders so that she can keep her balance and not fall on top of him. Harry’s fingers gently brush the hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, then linger on her face, tracing over her cheekbone and cupping her jaw. He loves holding her face when he kisses her, especially because she unconsciously leans into his touch, sighing happily the way a kitten being pet would purr. 
She never knew the simple act of kissing could be this hot… but there’s something about having his warm mouth against hers, feeling the slick of his spit as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth… even just feeling his heavy breaths against the side of her cheek. Soft sighs and little moans escape her in a way she can’t control, and her brows pinch together in the cutest, most desperate way when his hands migrate over her bum and start palming her.
She just wants to kiss him over and over and over again! No breaks, not even to breathe. She wants to feel his lips against hers until she passes out.
She reciprocates his every move eagerly, like a little puppy learning how to do tricks. She’ll move her head whichever way his nose nudges her, slot her lips against his at whatever pace he decides on. When he breathes, she breathes, and when he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. He’s constantly tilting his head to the left and then to the right, switching between suckling on her top and bottom lip, alternating between open mouth and closed mouth kisses – just teaching her as he kisses her. 
Harry pulls away softly, pressing his forehead to hers and petting the apple of her cheek with his thumb, giving her a break to catch her breath. “Alright?” he asks a bit breathlessly. She nods, eager but apprehensive. Harry calms her with a simple peck, soft and familiar. “Y’doing so good, sunshine,” he murmurs reassuringly. 
He’s kissing her again three seconds later, slower and more deliberately this time. She parts her lips once more, more sure of herself this time, and when his tongue flicks against her bottom lip softly she experimentally licks back. It immediately illicits a deep groan from Harry. He slides his tongue past her lips, tasting her, licking into her. His teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, and she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. He’s obsessed with her. Her lips are so soft, her body so pliant, he could kiss her for hours on end. 
She’s growing more and more desperate as their kiss grows hotter and hotter. Her hands on his shoulders start to wander, grazing over his tattooed chest, and she shuffles around on his lap, trying to wriggle closer to him. She’s getting that tingly feeling in her center that she only gets when she’s reading one of those books, and unconsciously, she starts grinding her center down on his lap. 
Harry lets out a strained groan, his hands immediately shooting down to hold her hips still. “Fuck,” he rasps, throwing his head back.
“Hm?” Y/n is out of it, chasing after his lips as he pulls away, completely unaware of Harry’s discomfort. She pouts at how his fingers are digging into her hips, preventing her from wriggling any closer to him when it’d felt so good! “What’s wrong?”
She threads her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, and tries to pull him back for a kiss – but he turns his head to the side, refusing. The abruptness leaves y/n disgruntled and confused. She’s panting, a bit breathless from how his tongue had been licking in her mouth, the electricity that had been flowing through her veins slowly fizzling away. Her lips are swollen, nearly bruised, and furrows her brows at the abrupt end to this >very nice kiss. 
"Need–" he licks his lips, "need t'take a second."
"Why?" she whines, staring down at his mouth. 
"M'bout to cum in my pants, sunshine. Gimme a bit." 
Her eyes widen. She looks down and sure enough… there’s the outline of his hard cock, a prominent bulge in his sweatpants. She’s never actually seen one in person and– gosh the size of it makes her tremble a little bit. Is that normal or is he just really big? He looks thick, and the tip of his cock is a significant length down his thigh. Why is her mouth watering? She swallows thickly and looks back up at him, like a deer caught in headlights.
She tries to give him some space, moving her hips back so that she’s not brushing against his erection… but even that small movement is painful for Harry, making him throw his head back with a loud groan. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Harry pants, hands on her hips, already lifting her off his lap. 
“What– oh!” she squeals as she’s suddenly thrown onto the couch.
She blinks. The bathroom door shuts. 
She’s never been more aroused in her life. 
+++
Harry has his hand down his sweatpants before he can even lock the door, fishing out his cock and palming himself with a deep groan. His pants slide down to midthigh as he spreads his own precum over his shaft, his fingers wrapped around himself in a tight fist. He pumps quickly, making sure to rub a thumb over his tip every once in a while, as that's one of the easiest ways to make himself cum. He wants this to be quick – he’s not in the bathroom jerking off because he wants an insane orgasm… he just wants his cock to stop hurting while he’s kissing his girlfriend! 
He throws his head back against the wall and thrusts his hips into his own hand, conjuring up all the images in his head – y/n’s pretty lips, slicked and swollen with his spit. Her disheveled hair, mussed up from his fingers. Her wide, moony eyes, her dreamy sighs and whimpers. Her cute bum in her tiny shorts, that had fit so nicely in the palm of his hand, that had jiggled so prettily when he lifted her onto his lap. His toes curl as he lets his thoughts get more explicit – how pretty would she look if she were the one jerking him off right now? If she was down on her knees with her tiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him and looking at his prick with those bambi eyes. What if she took him into her mouth? Laved her tongue around his tip the way his thumb is doing now? His biceps bulge as he jerks himself off, harder and faster, more cum leaking from his tip and making the glide smoother. If only he could fill up her mouth, cover her pretty lips with his cum…
His entire body shivers, long white streaks bursting from his cock and all over his fist. He bites his lip, refusing to let any sound escape the bathroom for y/n to hear. She’s not ready for… this. 
He looks at himself in the mirror– his cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and his cock looks worn out. He washes his hands in the sink with soap, shamefully washing away the mess he made on his own hand, then splashes his face with water. His prick is still sensitive and he winces as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants. It’s barely been five minutes since he first entered the bathroom, meaning that he lasted a whopping… three minutes. 
She says nothing when he comes back, already back to reading her book. He lets out a sigh of relief. 
He stays firmly on his side of the couch for the rest of the night. 
+++
“Harry,” y/n moans.
Her hair is splayed out on Harry’s pillow underneath her head, Harry hovering right above her. He has one hand pressed on the bed to keep him above her, and the other on her hip, roaming up and down her body. One minute he’ll be cradling her ribcage delicately, and the next he’ll be gripping her thigh and hoisting it up and around his waist so that he can fit his hips in between hers.
Her hands are similarly roaming up and down his chest and his back, holding onto his shoulders and grabbing his biceps as he kisses her. Her back arches as his hand squeezes her bum, and a broken whimper filters between their lips. His tongue slips into her mouth when she whines, gliding against hers smoothly. And when he pulls off from the kiss, he lightly bites at her lower lip, tugging on it playfully before letting it bounce back into place. 
He buries his face in her neck, kissing down to her shoulder and over her collarbones, sucking lightly and then smoothing his tongue over the abused spots soothingly. His teeth nip and graze the thin skin of her throat, and his chest rumbles when she throws her head back to grant him more access. 
This is torture for him. 
It had started off so innocently, just the two of them watching Netflix together. His head was laying on her chest while they watched their movie, her fingers brushing through his hair (he loves it when she plays with his hair). But then – god, he’d been so stupid!!! He looked up at her, and saw her pretty face and her pretty eyes and her pretty lips… and he just wanted to kiss her so bad. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, he told himself!!!
He lifted his head from where his ear had been pressed against her breast, and leaned up to just press one sweet, innocent kiss to her lips. But then, one kiss turned into two, and two turned into three. He hated how she had to strain her neck and lean down to reach his lips, so he twisted around to make it easier for her. But then his neck started to hurt, so he pushed himself up so he was hovering above her. And now his dick is hard, and he’s grinding it down into her most intimate area.
He’s mentally bashing himself while kissing her – he should’ve had more self-control, he should pull away and go to the bathroom to sort himself…  but also he can’t stop kissing her. 
Y/n has zero complaints either, practically egging him on, begging him to go further. She threaded her fingers through his hair while they kissed, and wrapped her arms around him so that he wouldn’t pull away. She whimpered and whined prettily, fluttered her eyes when he kissed down her throat, arched her back into him and lifted her hips so that she could press herself into the area where he was obviously very hard.
He’s literally just a guy. How is he supposed to pull away when his soft and sweet girlfriend is pressing herself against her cock and moaning against his lips?
“Fuck,” his voice is strained and there’s a vein bulging in his neck as he takes a second to breathe. Y/n has learned well, and starts trailing kisses along his jaw while he catches his breath. She tries her hand at sucking marks on his neck, but finds herself too impatient to focus all her energy on one spot when she just wants to kiss all over his neck and cheeks! Her lips skim the corner of his mouth, pressing soft, teasing kisses. 
He breathes heavily, shutting his eyes and trying really, really hard to not cum in his pants.
Y/n makes it practically impossible though, whining “kiss me,” as her nails scratch deliciously at his scalp. Fire rushes through his veins at the sound of her voice and he nearly collapses on top of her.
“Baby…” he says, half warning and half pleading. She’s literal heaven on Earth. Her lips are like magnets, and when she skims her lips over his he can’t help but pucker to connect them in a kiss. She bites down on his lip, teasing him, and licks into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel his tongue gliding against hers again. 
She’s a riled up little thing, concupiscent and needy, eager to kiss for hours at a time. He’s had to invest in a jumbo sized vaseline to keep his lips hydrated with how overworked his lips are. And she’s naughty under her good girl, studious, bookworm persona. She tugs on his hair and leaves scratches on his back when they kiss, wraps her legs around him and lifts her hips to grind her softest areas against his hardness. She moans and whimpers and tells him how good he feels, presses her breasts up to his chest… god he can only imagine how she’ll act when he actually gets to touch her. 
His hand slides up her side, over her ribs and to her breast, palming it over her t-shirt. She loves being groped, apparently, always leaning into his touch whenever his hands pinch her tits teasingly or cup her ass. It makes her even needier for him, makes her more desperate to get rid of the clothes and jump straight in. Neither of them know how they’ve managed to go this long with only make outs and groping, when they’re just so obsessed with touching and feeling the other. It’s mostly only Harry’s romantic heart that has managed to keep them strong, who is absolutely adamant on giving y/n sweet and cherishable firsts. These hot makeouts are just a loophole around his rules.
Harry loses himself in her, lets her fill up all his senses. She’s all he can hear, all he can smell, all he can taste, and all he can touch. His mind is void of anything except for getting closer to sunshine, kissing her more and touching her more. Her tits are soft and warm, her bum is round and biteable, and her cute little tummy jumps whenever his fingers skim over it. He unconsciously grinds his hips into her center, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit, from what he can feel through her thin shorts. His jaw goes slack every time he grinds himself against her, the pressure in his pants growing tighter and tighter– until he groans loudly above her, hiding his face in her chest as his entire body shudders and his arms grow weak. 
Y/n freezes, knowing that this particular grind of his hips was different from the rest. Instead of rolling his hips forward and backward, the way he’d been doing before, he presses his hips firmly against her and ruts forward in short jolts, hips twitching and abdomen clenching. A raspy groan leaves him, his cheeks red as cherries and his eyes hooded with pleasure. Y/n feels herself gushing at the thought of what just happened, and replays it in her head over and over and over again. Her voice cracks around a moan as he gives one final thrust against her, his hand squeezing around her tit firmly and erotically brushing against her nipple.
Their eyes meet, hers wide and blown out with a mix of innocent shock and filthy thoughts, while his are clear as the morning sky after a night of cleansing rain. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.  
His cheeks are red like cherries and his eyes are lust-filled and hazy, hooded with pleasure. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.
“Well, shit,” he chuckles at himself. He’s kind of embarrassed that he literally came in his pants by making out with his girlfriend, but for the most part he is just relieved that his balls aren’t bursting anymore. “Sorry, sunshine. I couldn’t– um, I couldn’t really control it.” He pushes himself up, feeling his own cum slowly against his thigh. “Are you okay?”
She nods, almost as if she’s in a trance. “I… want to do that again,” she whispers bashfully.
“Y’want to make me cum in m’pants again?” he asks with a soft, confused laugh.
“I-I just want to watch you… cum, again,” she hesitates around the word, feeling dirty and shy, despite how true the statement is. “Next time… next time, can I help?” she asks hopefully.
HIs eyes roll to the back of his head and he leans back down for a kiss.
“Y’gonna kill me, sunshine.”
+++
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