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angelfrombeneth · 3 months

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HAVENT I MADE IT OBVIOUS? - T . NOTT

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: *REQUESTED* Reader and Theodore are best friends. Reader gets wrapped up in her first love scandal and Theodore cant handle it. He cant cope that its not him.

Warnings: Angst, Slight Fluff, The most heart warming love confession ever. Mentions of sex but hardly.

A/N: The request wasn't super specific so I decided to go with something like this.No smut, because I have a really similar request which specifically asks for smut so that one will have smut.

"Teddy don't be a twat" You smacked his head as you sat beside him.

"What! Its not my fault the instructions were unclear" He scoffed.

You and Theo both were sat in potions as you both were paired up for a task. Theo thought he was being funny reading the ingredients not in the correct order and ultimately fucking up the mixture.

"This is why I hate pairing up with you in class" You groaned.

"Hey Y/N!" You looked up to see Cedric leaning against the front of your workbench.

"Oh, Hey Cedric" You smiled.

"I was wondering" He smiled at you, his eyes flickering to the side for a moment for placing a hand ontop if yours. "Would you wanna go out sometime? Maybe for a meal or something?" He grinned.

You smiled as you sat up in your seat. "I'd love that"

"Ill meet you at 6, outside your commonroom on Friday?"

You nodded as he smiled, caressing your hand before walking back to his seat.

You heard a scoff beside you, your neck cracked to look at Theo, who had a huge scowl on his face. "Your going on a date with him? He's such a prick"

"Oh fuck off Theo" You rolled your eyes as you stood up gathering your books before exiting the class.

Theo caught up with you, walking beside you. "No seriously, he's such a priss. Why's you wanna date.. that" You scoffed at his statement before scaling the stairs down to the Slytherin Commonroom.

"Theo shut up-" You turn to see Pansy. "Oh my god! Pans!" You squealed as you ran at her.

You felt Theo's moody presence slip away with Draco and Mattheo who walked over to him as soon as you ran to Pansy.

"Cedric asked me on a date!" You squealed.

"No way- Oh my god, this will be so good" Pansy smiled, grabbing your hand. "You can test the waters before the date at the party tonight!"

"Party?" And with that Pansy yanked you to your feet and you scrambled up the stairs being dragged behind her as the next 4 hours entailed getting ready for the party.

Slytherin parties were always off the chain. Every other house could party for sure, but the amount of shit Slytherin would gather for the party. All the alcohol and drugs like it was some free tester aisle of a muggle store. It would always end very heated whether everyone was hooking up or someone started a fight. It was always the same old shit.

You decided on a basic little black dress, you can never go wrong. The dress was short and frilled. To be fair it looked more like one of those frilly tops that remind you of a dress. Your assets were out on display, but it was a party why not.

"Girl, that dress is definitely not your size but it's so cute!" She chuckled as you spun around. You fixed the top, making sure there will be no nipple slips. "You have literally the perfect body; tits, ass and thighs. I'm so jealous"

"Pans shut up, you are so hot I won't even leave for the party we can have our own" You both giggled as you leaned forward kissing her cheek before grabbing her eyeliner and finishing up your makeup.

By now the party was in full swing for atleast an hour and you two were only just getting done. You held hands as you exited Pansy's dorm and skipped downstairs giggling. Not to mention the two if you had pregamed before.

You two did you rounds round the party greeting everyone and stealing shots from groups. You both got to your friends on the couch in the back corner as you stood like bambi, struggling to stand straight in your heels from how fucked you were.

"Woah- Careful" You heard as you felt a hand snake around your waist steadying you. You look up to the side and catch Theo's dark eyes staring down at you.

"Thanks" You giggled leaning into his chest, pulling his arms over your shoulder, holding his hands as you looked to the group. Pansy situated herself on Enzo's lap the two of them giggling at you and Theo.

"So Y/N, any updates with Mr Badger? I was told about your date" Mattheo smirked, he wasnt trying to wind Theo up, he didnt know but Theo still got pissed.

You felt Theo tense behind you but you didn't take notice of it as you continued to okay with the rings on his hands. "We haven't been on the date yet, but he seems nice"

You heard Theo scoff as you turned to look up at him. "Nice my ass" He mumbled. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to argue as you continued conversation with your friends.

Theo was enjoying the company, enjoying the feeling of your body snuggled against him as you played with his rings. God, he was falling, quick. He was too busy daydreaming to even notice you had sauntered away to the other side of the room.

"Ced~" You smiled as you stood beside him.

"Hey Y/N- You look gorgeous tonight" He chuckled, taking your hand and pulling you to stand between his legs. His hands gripping your thighs, dangerously close to your ass.

"So do you" You smiled, running your hand softly up and down his chest. "M' excited for our date" You giggled.

"Me too.. Its not everyday you get to be in the presence of a goddess" He licked his lips.

"Stop it you!" You chuckled, hitting his shoulder.

"Cant help myself" His hands threatening to touch the curve of your ass.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, chuckling down at him as he pulled you closer by your thighs, placing his lips onto yours as he kissed you softly.

It was needy, very needy. He gripped your ass as you leaned over kissing him more passionately as you say on his knee.

Third POV

Theo couldn't cope at the sight. The second Pansy pointed it out, his hand tightened around his bottle. Anger filling his body as he watched another man kiss you. Another man touch you. That should be him. Not Cedric. Him. Jealously bubbled inside of him, very quickly.

Theo was too focused on the scene that the glass bottle shattered at the pressure. All his friends turned to look at the sound and him. He looked down at his bloody hand as he wiped it on his shirt, before groaning and turning to push through the crowd.

Everyone was confused by the sudden action by Theo, they had no clue what caused it, or even a smidge of knowledge how much Theo loved you.

Theo rushed away, pushing through people trying to get further and further away from the hurt. His hand covered in blood and throbbing as he stopped at the stairs. Turning to look in your direction, noticing your still with him. He bit his lip, holding in any emotion as he continued up the stairs.

Your POV

A many days later, after the party, you and Cedric went on your date. It was lovely, he was very attentive which you loved. You didn't see him much the few days after but chalked it up to him being busy.

It wasn't till it was 4 days after your date with Cedric you noticed the boy was still yet to talk to you. It left a sour taste in your mouth and you wanted to confront him. Why was he ignoring you.

Suddenly someone bumped into you, quickly apologising as they sprinted down the hall. Curious you followed them, it was a first year probably not a huge deal

You had no expectation for the kid, but it wasn't what he was running to caught your eye. It was down a dark corridor you turned to see Cedric and Theodore.. talking? Before you could even call at them, Theo pounces on Cedric. Your eyes wide as you froze. You were too far down the hall to do anything but noticed Mattheo, Draco, Enzo and Blaise all struggling to pull Theo off Cedric. Cedrics friends yelling as Cedric was frankly getting battered.

You sprinted down the hall towards them, aa they got ripped apart as you approached. Cedric and Theo's face all bloody.

"What the fuck is wrong with you??" You screamed as you looked at Theo.

He looked shocked, taken back. "Me?? He started it!"

"Sock it Theo, there was no need" You helped Cedric to his feet. "Let me take you to the hospital wing" And with that the two of you left.

Third POV:

"Shut up Nott, you're so up her ass. Don't be mad she hasn't put out for you yet. It's a long list. She's just a hole to fill. You'll have your turn " Cedric laughed.

Theo doesn't know how he got in this situation, he was just walking then saw Cedric and now he was ontop of the boy pummelling his face in. He was talking shit about you, lying about you. He was horrible.

But the worse thing for Theo was when he saw you. Saw your face when you looked between the two of them. His heart broke when you reached for Cedric, cheking if he was OK and whisking him away.

Theo was going insane.

Your POV:

It had been a day since the fight. Both boys were in the hospital wing but you refused to see Theo why would he do that. He was your bestfriend, and Cedric was just.. a guy. A guy that made you happy. Its like Theo was punishing you for being happy.

You were sat in potions noticing Theo hadn't show up, and you were pissed. He was being selfish, this was a group project.

You go to the hospital wing to find Theo, but Madame Pomfrey told you he was dismissed last night but Cedric was still there. You looked over at Ced, noticing his curtain was shut, I guess he had company, you thought and just walked out. If Theo wasn't in class then there's only one placed he'd be.

You scaled the stairs to the Astronomy reaching the top as you took a moment to get your breath. You noticed Theo by the railing and you sigh.

"Theo you can't skip class"

He turned to look at you, inhaling the smoke from his cigarette as he looked at you. "Well I am so it doesn't fucking matter. Don't you have a baby to coddle?"

"Fuck off Theo, don't be a prick" You scoffed

"He's a bad person Y/N. Why won't you fucking listen to me"

"BECAUSE YOUR CHATTING SHIT NOTT" You yell at him.

"You don't even know what he said about you. He called you a slut. Your nothing but a hole to fill" He sneered.

"What the fuck is wrong with you! Are you jealous I'm happy?" You laughed at him, distressed with the situation.

"You aren't happy" He snapped.

"How do you know? How do you know what's good for me!" You stare at his back, rage building up inside of you as you yelled out at him.

"BECAUSE IM GOOD FOR YOU.." Theo yelled. He turned to look at you, his breath erratic. "I know whats good for you and its me.. not him, no one else. Its me, it'll always be me" His teeth are gritted as he looked as you as you stand in shock. "I love you Y/N! It's always been you. Every fucking waking moment I think about you, your fucking stupid coconut smelling hair! The way your lip dimple shows when you smile a certain way. I spend every waking moment thinking about you. I live and breathe for you Y/N."

You stand there stunned as you look down at him.

"Haven't I made it fucking obvious? I fought the fucking freak for you! Yes initially he did nothing but.. He called you horrible things.. I can't bare to see you with another man that isn't me. I think about you so much bella.. Morning, noon and fucking night, I think about you.." His voice cracked as he stared down at you before he took your hand, kneeling down infront of you holding your hand. "It'll always be you.." He softly kissed your hand.

Your eyes slightly glassy from the confession as you stand speechless.

"Please say something bella.." Theo looked up at you, his hands grasping yours.

You burst out into tears, ripping your hand away from him as you cover your face. "You are so annoying Theo- I- I didn't know you felt like this" You sobbed as you wiped your eyes. Your mascara smudged all over your face.

Theo stood up, cupping your face between his hands as he wiped your tears with his thumbs as he chuckled, a tear rolling down his eye.

"I guess we are both stupid.." He chuckled lightly.

"You're such an asshole" You hit his chest playfully, laughing slightly through the sobs. His hand catching yours as you hit his chest, before his lips crashed against yours.

The pair of you finally became one.

#harrypotter fanfiction #lorenzo zurzolo #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin fanfiction #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott angst #theodore nott confession #angelfrombenethfics

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prettygiri222 · 4 months

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Summary: At your boyfriend Onyankopon's backyard pool, what could happen?

Onyankopon x Black Fem Reader SMUT

“girl I wanna handle you, put my hands up on you, baby…” you softly sang while scrolling through your boyfriend Onyankopon’s phone. you were in your own little world, lightly swaying in the water of his backyard pool as you queued up music. you were wearing a sparkly pink bikini that left very little to the imagination, Onya feared that during any little movement, your tits would spill out.

you and Onya hadn’t gone very far in your relationship, the most you’ve done so far was heated make-out sessions. you were a shy little thing when Onya first met you so he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable. he opted to smoke a blunt to calm his nerves tonight, he asked if you wanted a hit but you said no.

instead of feeling relaxed, he became hyper-aware of your second lips slipping out of your bikini. he was trying his best to be respectful and not look but it was so hard, especially when you bent over to shake your ass, making waves in the water when your favourite songs came on.

you were taking sneak peeks at Onya as he smoked on the other side of the pool not wanting you to get a “second hand” high. but the herbal scent still wafted close. your man was so fine, he had a freshly done taper fade that exposed his chiselled jaw. his chest tattoo was on full display and his neck was decorated with a gold chain that held your initials in cursive with a little heart. the reflection of light off of the pool gave his dark skin a glowing hue.

you could feel yourself grow wetter in the pool, your fluid tainting your boyfriend's pool. you looked back down at the phone to distract yourself. but you couldn't help but want to relieve the feeling.

Onya watched you with the gaze of a hunter stalking its prey. he wanted to know what you tasted like, you always filled his nostrils with the sweet scent of cocoa butter. he imagined that you would taste no different.

“when you gon let me eat you out babygirl?” Onya’s husky voice echoed in the empty backyard. your eyes widened in shock at his blunt statement but the words went straight to your core. Onya shocked himself as well, he was thinking about it but he he wasn’t going to say it. you slowly turned around to look at your boyfriend seeing him put out the end of his blunt, he said it so he was gonna stand on it.

“Onya! what are you…” you stopped mid-sentence making eye contact with his red eyes. he was manspreading on the edge of the pool, his wet trunks sticking to his skin exposing his boner but he wasn’t ashamed. he followed your eyes smiling when he found what you were looking at. he jumped into the pool and slowly made his way over to you, holding eye contact till he got too close and you broke it. you looked to the side nervously, your lower stomach was doing flips.

“you ain’t hear what I said?” his usual deep voice sounded hoarse as he whispered in your ear. he pulled back to look at you, loving the way you were turning into putty without him even touching you. you guys were so close but so far, you backed into the wall when Onya came close but he had you trapped now. he let his question hang in the air waiting for your answer.

“I did” you whispered, still avoiding eye contact. he didn’t even have to touch you and you were already losing it. you wanted him so bad, but you were speechless. the tension was so thick it was suffocating.

“you gon let me have a taste?” he asked. you nodded your head, biting your lip. finally, given the green light he’s been looking for, Onya pounced on you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. he took your ass in his palms, groping you as he pulled you closer. you gasped into the kiss and he used the opportunity to slither his tongue into your mouth. you closed your eyes and wrapped your hands around his neck pulling him in deeper, feeling your tongues mould together.

the spicy taste of the weed was present in his mouth but there was an underlying sweetness of the honey candy he was always sucking. without breaking the kiss Onya grabbed you by the thighs and pulled you onto the ledge of the pool, situating him in between your legs as he stood tall in the pool. he took the chance to grind into you, feeling you melt into the kiss.

your boyfriend's tongue gently sucked on yours swallowing up your moans, it wasn't long till you were out of breath. he felt you pulling back but he grabbed you by the back of the neck so you couldn’t break this kiss. his other hand moved to play with the strings of your bikini at your hips, slowly untying them.

only when he started feeling you gasp for breath he pulled back, breaking the string of saliva between your lips. you looked up at him with blown-out pupils and the view went straight to his dick, your soft lips swollen, your perky nipples from the cool air, your brown skin glistening and the invisible locs that framed your sculpted face. you were perfect in his eyes.

Onya bit his big plump lips as he peeled your bikini off, he was salivating at the thought of finally seeing lil ma. but before he could reveal her you grabbed onto his strong arms and closed your legs.

“wait Onya!” he rolled his eyes but waited for you to speak. “we’re outside, what if one of your neighbours sees us?” you didn’t really care about his neighbours if you were being honest, you just wanted a second to breathe. you’ve never had a guy go down on you so you didn’t know what to expect and you were a little nervous.

Onya didn’t say anything as he got out of the pool beside you and walked over to the towels on the lawn chairs. you looked at his back in worry, did you make him mad? you watched silently as he walked back over to you with an intense burning in his eyes. he wrapped the towel over your wet body before picking you and your discarded bikini up.

you wrapped your legs around his waist shivering at the feeling of the cold night air against your exposed core and his hard-on rubbing against your stomach. he kicked open the glass door and hastily made his way across the living room and into his bedroom. he dropped you softly onto the bed, briefly exposing your lower half before you fixed the towel.

“is this better?” he looked deep into your eyes trying to sense any discomfort. you shuffled under the intensity of his gaze. Onyankopon was always such a gentleman, no matter how heated things got he never went further if you didn’t want to. but you were getting a bit frustrated, it’s not that you never wanted things to go further you just didn’t know how to initiate things.

“I need to hear you say yes baby,” he asked, sensing your hesitation. despite his demeanour, Onya was slowly losing it, he wanted you, no, he needed you. he was desperate to get a taste of you at this point if you said no he could see himself getting on his knees to beg.

“I want you, Onya,” you affirmed, holding his gaze. your boyfriend didn’t waste any more time. he dropped to his knees on the floor and grabbed you by the ankles to pull you toward the end of his king size bed. he was moving like a starved man, he made quick work of the towel and your bra leaving you exposed. but he couldn’t help but stare at you in awe, his beautiful girlfriend bare before him.

“stop staring, it’s embarrassing.” you lightly kicked his shoulder to get him out of his trance. he was staring at your naked body for so long you were starting to feel a little self-conscious. his gaze was intense, you could see the yearning in his deep brown eyes.

“you’re so beautiful, I can't help it.” he smiled up at you before he got to work. Onya grabbed the underneath of your thighs and pushed them up so they were out of the way. exposing your glistening two toned lips.

“shit, you ever touch yourself down here?” Onya hissed looking at your tiny hole. his dick jumped at the sight but he didn't think he would be able to fuck it tonight. it would be a tight fit. he would have to stretch you out and get you used to something smaller first, like his fingers.

“when I think about you,” you airly confessed. you looked up at the ceiling thinking of the countless nights after Onya dropped you home after hours of steamy makeout sessions that led to nothing. where his hands would ghost over your zipper unaware of your throbbing core desperate for his touch. how the thick material of his jeans prevented you from feeling his dick.

when you got home you would busy yourself playing with your little bud. imagining how Onya would fuck you, how he'd fill you up so well. on the days your dripping cunt miserably clenched around nothing, you would shove a finger or two to fulfil your fantasy of your boyfriend pounding into you.

“so you've been holding out on me?” Onya kept a steady hold on your plush thighs while he spread your lips with his right. he was able to witness the clear fluid gushing out of you. he dragged his forefinger around your hole collecting the liquid before pushing his middle finger past your tight muscle. “that's not very nice.”

“Onyaaa” you squealed out gripping the sheets.

“your fucking leaking babygirl” after giving you time to adjust he slowly inserted his ring finger. he loved the way your pink hole readily sucked him in, contrasting against your brown lips. “you a squirter? or you cream?”

“don't know” Onyankopon’s well-manicured fingers were prodding at spots your small fingers couldn’t reach. it had you twisting and turning in the sheets not knowing if you wanted to run away from the onslaught of pleasure or invite more.

“guess we'll both find out,” Onya loved how sensitive you were. when he pulled his fingers out your hips chased after. you let out airy moans and high-pitched mewls when he nudged your delicate spots.

Onyakopon looked up at you relishing in your beauty. your eyes were locked on him now but he could tell you were out of it. your brows were burrowing as you concentrated on the budding sensation on your lower abdomen.

you could feel him spreading you, he was doing a scissoring motion inside you. before you felt him slip a third finger into your dripping wet cunt. this felt way better than when you touched yourself alone.

now able to move his wrists more freely, Onyankopon started to curl his fingers against the roof of your core. goading out more of your translucent sap when he pushed in and out. the sounds of your wetness were mixing in with your moans.

his fingers were drenched. he was drooling just looking at it, he needed to have a taste. this time when he pulled out he removed his hands completely but it was replaced with a warm, wet feeling. you knew immediately that it was his tongue.

“mhmm,” your boyfriend let out a guttural moan at the taste of you. you were like a cold sweet lemonade after a long day of hard work in the sun, delicious. after he delivered a few kitten licks to your slit lapping up your slick he knew he was addicted and craved more.

“i'ma get it wet like a jacuzzi, and sex with me so amazing” rihanna’s song softly rang through the house from the speaker your boyfriend left playing outside due to his haste. but boy was it an understatement.

“ohmygod, Onya!” your hands found themselves on his head when he started suckling at your clit. you were grinding against his open mouth turning into putty from the mind-numbing pleasure.

“don’t stop, please!” you cried out even though he showed no signs of slowing or stopping. he licked from your hole to slit, sometimes dipping his wet muscle in to tongue-fuck you. the way you clenched around it was enough to tell him you were close.

“wasn't planning on it, just hold on for me ok baby?” Onya didn’t give you any time to process what he said before he inserted his fingers back into your soaking pussy. his lips still attached to your swollen nub giving you the best of both worlds. the onslaught of pleasure quickly had your legs begin to shake.

your hands locked into his short kinks grabbing at what you could. “m close, so close Onya” you were fiercely grinding into his face now. Onya loved it, you were using his face to get off like a fucking toy. your eyes were screwed shut as you focused on reaching your peak. you were so close you could taste it. “mhm mhm”

“can I cum Onya? pretty please?” Onyankopon thought it was cute that you thought you needed his permission to cum. even in your desperation, you were being such a good girl for him. so who was he to deny his sweet princess?

“uh huh” Onya didn’t bother to remove his lips to reply, busying himself with your clit while his fingers plunged into your throbbing cunt. the little vibration was enough to send you over the edge. and you plummeted hard.

“Onyaaa” you squealed out as the pleasure flooded your body. leaving your limbs trembling in its wake. “fuck fuck!” Onyankopon removed his mouth from your pulsating clit but focused on riding you through your orgasm with his fingers.

“shit, you do both” Onya ogled at his hands. when he pulled his fingers out they were covered in a creamy white paste. but still, a colourless liquid gushing out from your gaping hole. your empty whole was quivering at the loss of his fingers. your body let out little hiccups in attempt to calm itself.

“Onya…” you opened your eyes to see your boyfriend stuffing his fingers into his mouth. despite your previous orgasm, you felt yourself get wet again watching him lick and suck at the fingers he had shoved in you just a moment ago.

“I can't help myself, you just taste so good.”

#anime smut #aot smut #x black reader #aot x black reader #black reader smut #black y/n #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x reader #black coded reader #fem reader #smut #aot x reader

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scribbledghost · 9 months

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yautja giving their mate a trophy OR their mate giving them a trophy- please and thank you I hope you’re having a good day

Note: Thank you so much! I hope you're having a good day too!

Them giving you a trophy:

I feel like this is pretty standard courting behavior in yautja culture, so it's a fairly common occurrence.

They'll try to get you something from as high up on the food chain as possible from whatever planet they're on.

In fact, receiving a xenomorph trophy is probably the highest display of love and honor that a yautja can give, so I feel like that's definitely on the list at some point.

But other than that, they're... sort of like cats?

Insofar as they routinely offer you skulls of dead critters.

The first couple of times they even brought the full head back to you for you to see first, until you gently asked them to uh. Not Do That Please.

So now they just bring you skulls.

If it's an alien creature, they'll be more than happy to teach you about what it is and how it fairs in its environment.

Probably exaggerates how deadly it is though, let's be real here.

Gotta impress their mate, after all.

You giving them a trophy:

Listen, I don't care if it's the tiniest prey animal you can find, or the largest predator on the planet.

Your mate is putting that skull on display. Prominently. Right in the middle of the trophy room.

Especially the first trophy you give them.

So much happy clicking and purring, probably more squeeze-hugging.

Cause their mate gave them a trophy!! You're not yautja but you still got them a trophy!!

They're just as elated and honored every time you give them one, regardless of how many you've brought them before.

Now if you manage to kill and give them a xenomorph skull??

Move over clan leaders/elders, you're the leader now. Your yautja doesn't even care.

"I would become bad blood for you, ooman."

"Please don't do that."

They're 100000% serious.

#yautja #yautja x reader #predator #predator x reader #ghost scribbles

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dungeonpuppykai · 4 months

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Hey lovely, I just want to say I love your bucky fics and especially dark bucky fics, it just hits the spot and it's so good so keep up the great work love. Now i'm not sure if you're still taking requests if so could you please do one of reader wearing absolutely nothing but bucky's army dog tag and him seeing reader like this makes him go feral.

And if you don't want to that's perfectly fine and i hope you have a great day/night and keep up the great work love 💕

Thank you so much! I am so happy that you like them and I know it's been a hot minute but the way this ask short circuited my brain omg!!!

Warning(s): Dark!Bucky, stockholm syndrome, sir kink, use of makeshift leash, choking, rough p-in-v, power imbalance, m!dom, f!sub, puppy kink, humping, dumbification, cock riding, mention of somnophilia. Browse at your own discretion. Contains dark and mature 18+ content. Minors do not interact.

Bucky was honestly skeptical at first.

As you were still getting used to your new home he knew better than to fully trust you.

But you were just so fucking irresistible and adorable.

Sometimes he didn't know just what to do with you.

"Just trust me, sir!" Your tone was determined but demeanor shy when you had hurriedly pecked his lips and scurried off into the walk-in wardrobe after prying his hands off you.

The night was quite silver with the moon on full display, the inside of your room dimly lit as Bucky took a swig of his chilled after dinner beer.

When you took longer than was comfortable for him doing whatever it was that you were doing, he called out to you.

"Puppy? What's taking so–"

The older man's voice locked in his throat and he had to do a double take when you did appear.

Your cheeks were a bright red as you nibbled on your bottom lip, hips swaying but posture stiff as you came into his view.

Bucky's hand reached for his neck in realization when he noticed the article– the only article on your otherwise nude body.

You sneaky little thing.

He had been so busy and stressed because of his recent mission that he hadn't noticed when you had slipped his dog tags off him.

A small smirk made its way on his face as he felt his cock harden instantly, feeling his head spin a little at the seductive way you leaned against the doorframe of the wardrobe, toying with the chain in as much a sexy manner as you could muster.

Just like that, Bucky made his resolve.

Even if you had been sneaky (and he would definitely have to do something about it to nip it in the bud), it had been to give him a show.

And who was Bucky to refuse you finally coming around and doing something out of your own free will.

Or, at least, as free as it could get given your rather coercive circumstances.

"Come here, puppy" his voice was dark and strained as he held back pouncing on you with all the force in his body and crushing you with the violent passion that was surging like electric currents within his being right now.

He always held back on you for he knew you were far too fragile to take his raw might.

"Y- Yes sir…" You obediently answered like you had been trained to do so as you made your way to your captor and owner.

Bucky bit his lip as he sipped on his drink again, reaching out towards you before he twirled the dog tags around the index finger of his metal arm and gently pulled you in, resuming his earlier position on the bed.

Your breath hitched in your throat as your lips brushed against his. He had brought you in until you were bending over his form. Your heart was starting to thrum.

Excitement. Anxiety. Need.

"Puppy, you naughty, naughty fucking thing" Bucky rasped after making out with you a little.

The older man didn't speak before he pressed his lips onto yours and when he transferred the beer in his mouth to yours, you knew why he hadn't praised you yet.

The drink burnt its way down your throat.

Your nose scrunched a bit at the strong taste of his beer.

You weren't really allowed any adult beverages so they were almost foreign to your taste buds at this point.

"N- Need you, sir~" you were becoming more and more hormonal by the day and the man wasn't complaining.

"Is that why you put up this cute little show, huh? To seduce sir into playing with that sweet little pussy that's always so needy for him?" You couldn't help but lower your head and nod sheepishly, blushing under his dark and hungry gaze. "Aren't you becoming a cute little horndog?"

He couldn't help but smirk at the way you whined under your breath, both aroused and embarrassed.

"Aw, you don't like that, puppy?" He gently tugged at the makeshift leash. "Don't want sir to tease you?" You softly pouted as you shook your head and avoided his gaze. "Awww…" Now his hand wrapped around the rest of the chain and he jerked your head closer. "Then what do you want, puppy?"

"Y- You, sir…" You shyly looked up at him through your lashes although just for a second. "Want– need you… so, so bad."

"How bad, puppy?"

"Very bad, sir…"

He loosened up his grip but didn't let go of the silver chain.

"Get on up here and show me." You didn't need to be told twice.

"Yes sir!" You were eager as you scrambled onto his built thighs, whimpering out a shaky moan when your wet sex exposed itself due to your position and grazed against the material of his pants. "Oh…" A sound too vile for your personal comfort escaped you as you settled yourself on his lap, the upper half of your body being forced to bend towards him due to his hold on the chain.

"You like that, my little baby puppy?" Your mouth was agape as you could only nod, your own thighs trembling as you begin to slowly rub yourself against the grainy fabric of Bucky's pants.

"Love that, sir. Love it so much…" Your hand shakily grasped his metal one that was holding the chain for support, hips increasing their speed with this newfound stability and balance.

"Good puppy… good girl… good fucking girl" Bucky praised as he wrapped his hand around the chain once more, toying with one of your boobs with his other hand. "That's it, babygirl. Just like that… rub that slutty pussy all over my jeans like the desperate little toy that you are."

Fuck, he was too good with his soft, breathy praises as he stared up at you, mouth agape.

Your heavy breaths were restricted next and you could cum right there and then. As the oxygen slowly dissipated from your lungs, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and back arched when he suddenly twisted one of your nipples, eliciting a loud squeak from you.

When he finally let go of your windpipe and eased his hold on the chain, you whined upon coming to your senses when you realized that he'd lifted you off his lap.

You needed him so bad.

He was way too good at fucking you.

Though Bucky quickly shut you up with a wet kiss as he lowered you onto his cock next, remaining his hold on the dog tags all the while.

Your hands were removed from his bicep and metal arm and bound behind your back with his free hand that wasn't guiding you with your makeshift leash.

Bucky loved to restrain you; there was just something so hot seeing you tied up completely helpless at his mercy.

"That's right, fuck yourself on my cock. You look so fucking pretty when you're all dumbed out like a silly little puppy slut up on my cock…" His words had you clenching as you rocked your hips, moaning as loud as you could, shame forgotten and disposed of.

"P- Please…" You begged, too weak and sensitive to increase your pace but in desperate need to do so. "Please, sir… please… Need you… so bad… please…" Bucky tightened the chain one more time, this time not letting go until your flushed face had turned red, veins bulging out against the skin of your temples. "Th- Thank you, sir…" You whispered out like you'd been taught to do so. You were so close. Your head was about to split with emotion and anticipation of what was coming. "... L- Love you so much…" The man froze for a few moments.

He had not taught you that yet.

As oxygen was allowed back in to your brain, you almost halted when you realized that Bucky was quietly staring up at you now and had let go of both the chain as well as your hands.

Your brows furrowed, since you hadn't even realized what you had just confessed. "W- What's–"

But the man beat you to it.

Before you could ponder over it and possibly change your mind.

Bucky had tackled you onto your back.

The movement caused his thick cock to bang all the way inside your cavern, causing stars to appear in your vision.

"I love you more, puppy." Trapping both your hands above your head like he had done you -mind and body-, he resumed his hold on the dog tags and began pounding into you like an actual animal.

You best believe he did not stop for the rest of the night.

So what if you passed out a couple times?

You loved him, so he was sure you didn't mind.

918 notes · View notes

janaispunk · 5 days

Text

delicate

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~3.9k

summary: You meet a mysterious man at a club. He's just as attracted to you as you are to him.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, very soft dom!Oberyn, protected p in v (who am I), dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), a hint of angst, romance because I can't help myself

a/n: written for @dancingtotuyo’s on repeat drabble challenge, based on the song delicate by taylor swift. this is honestly just feral, i have nothing to say for myself.

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates!

Lights are flashing, colors dancing over the exposed skin of your arms and shoulders; the bass is pumping, making your whole body feel like it’s vibrating from within. You’re clinging to your friend, your arms intertwined as you navigate your way through the crowd of people to the bar.

You first see him as you’re gulping down your drink, welcoming the cool liquid in your parched throat. Your eyes are observing the crowd, flying over him and then flickering back to take a second glance.

He’s gorgeous, his dark hair a mess, a beard framing his face, his skin shining under the lights. He’s wearing a shirt that flows around his body, threads of gold weaving through the fabric and reflecting the dancing lights. It’s almost entirely undone, giving you a generous look at the expanse of his toned chest, at the sun-kissed skin that you feel a sudden urge to run your fingers over. A massive gold chain with a lock hangs around his neck, an accessory that you’re convinced would look absolutely ridiculous on anyone else. But on him, it somehow only accentuates the strong cords of muscle that ripple under his skin in a way that makes you want to lick your lips.

He moves with a confident ease, his body in tune with the stomping beats, his whole being exuding an almost cocky self-assuredness. You keep drinking him in, fascinated in a way that you can barely understand. You realize that you’ve been staring when your friend follows your line of sight and you hear her quiet gasp beside you.

“Haven’t seen that one around before,” her voice floats into your ear over the music and you shake your head in silent agreement. You’d definitely remember if you did.

You both watch him move with the body of a woman next to him, watch him bend down to whisper something into her ear, watch the way his lips curl into a smug grin as she grinds against him in reaction to his words.

“Too late, I guess,” you laugh, downing the rest of your drink and tearing your eyes away.

The two of you head back into the crowd, swaying your bodies to the beat. You try to get lost in the feeling of it, but your eyes keep searching for him, hungrily grasping at the glimpses of him that you can spot. Eventually, you watch the retreating backs of both of him and the woman head toward the exit, their bodies closely intertwined. Like you said, you try to shrug it off, too late. It’s not a big deal, there’s more than enough other guys around you.

But you don’t go home with any of those guys, none of them able to catch your interest the way he did, and when you lie in bed in the early morning hours, your head pleasantly buzzing with the remaining alcohol in your bloodstream, you still see him behind your eyelids.

A few weeks go by and while you hope to catch him every time that you’re out, there’s no trace of him. It isn’t until your friend’s birthday celebration, a tradition that the two of you have kept up for years, that you see him again.

Again, you’re leaning against the bar, your eyes aimlessly drifting over the dancefloor while you’re sipping on your drink, when you spot him. He’s wearing another colorful shirt, his chest almost entirely on display, and he’s shamelessly grinding against another young man as they’re both moving to the beat. You can’t tear your eyes away, apparently staring so intently that he catches you and throws you a wink across the room.

You feel heat rising in your cheeks and almost turn away, but he’s already on his way, moving towards you with a cat-like grace, effortlessly weaving through the crowd of moving bodies.

“Hey,” he says, leaning into you so close that his breath fans hot against your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your neck. “Saw something you like?”

You grin at him over the rim of your cup, biting your lip and nodding. He mirrors your grin, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. He’s even more gorgeous up close, a light sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes a smoldering brown, his dark hair a mess with strands sticking to his forehead. You take in his toned chest, his broad shoulders and you desperately want to touch your hands to his golden skin. A foreign accent is lacing his words in the most delicious way, only adding to the pull that you feel towards him.

“Let me buy you another drink,” he purrs and you accept, thanking him and offering him your name. You relish in the way you have to lean into him so that he can hear you, greedily soaking in his scent and his body heat that make your mouth water.

His name is Oberyn, you learn, a name that sounds foreign on your tongue and you could swear that a quiet growl rises up his throat when you repeat it back to him.

You’d love to spend your evening dancing with him, pressing your body against his, find out if moving with him feels as good as it looks from the outside. But it’s your friend’s birthday, and you’re gonna stick together, dance the night away with each other and no one else, the way you do every year.

He shrugs it off when you tell him as much, an unbothered grin on his face as he promises you another time then. His hand wraps around your wrist, the warmth of it sinking into your skin as he pulls your arm out towards him, a black marker suddenly in his other hand.

“What are you–” you begin to ask, but your voice dies at the sight of him pulling the cap off with his teeth, something that really shouldn’t affect you this much.

He bends over your arm and it takes your hazy mind a moment to register that he’s writing numbers onto your skin. You’re getting lost in the feeling of his hand on you, even in such an innocent place, and your thoughts are already jumping to fantasies of how it would feel trailing up your arm and over your body.

“There,” his voice floats into your ear and you almost jump. The smug look on his face leaves no doubt that he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He leans in close again, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. Your mouth feels dry.

You look down at your arm, now adorned with digits in black ink. A phone number.

“Give me a call,” he smirks, and leans in even closer, until his lips move against the shell of your ear and a shudder runs down your back at the sensation. “Just think of the fun things we could do.” He throws you another wink and slides away from you, back into the crowd.

You text him the next day, worried if it’s too soon, if it makes you seem desperate. Then again, you have to admit to yourself, you are desperate. Desperate to hear his voice again, desperate to feel his hands on you again. Texting him is less awkward than you had hoped, his demeanor putting you at ease almost immediately. You catch yourself smiling at the screen, already down bad for this man.

You’re in bed, struggling to calm down enough to sleep when your phone’s screen lights up the darkness of your bedroom from where it’s lying on your nightstand.

He’s asking you to meet him in a dive bar, right now, if you want to. You’re reluctant at first, once again worried to appear too eager, but the almost magnetic pull that you feel towards him eventually leads you out of your apartment and to the address he sent you.

He’s waiting for you in the back, just like he told you. Wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt, the fabric stretching around his broad chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare, dressed much more casually than you’ve come to know from him. It doesn’t take away from his persona one bit, he’s still exuding that energy that seems to let him command every room he’s in, that makes it so hard for you to resist him.

He buys you a drink and pulls you into a corner booth with him. Talking to him is easy, he’s an attentive listener and his quick remarks make you laugh, leaning into him when you do. You learn that he’s not from around here, that he flew in to visit friends but that he’s thinking about moving here permanently. It almost scares you, how giddy that prospect makes you, the idea of having the chance to keep seeing him. His arm finds its way around your shoulders eventually, his fingers drawing shapes over your skin. The innocent contact makes you feel like a teenager, suddenly sixteen again.

He walks you home later, his arm still wrapped around you, pulling you into his side. It feels good, a sense of safety and intimacy that you feel yourself getting lost in. You had thought that he was hot, that he would be a fun hookup, but as the minutes tick on, you realize how much you already like him. How much you want this feeling to last.

It feels so natural, turning around to face him when you reach your building, both of you leaning in simultaneously until your lips meet, like it’s the only possible way for this evening to end. You think that it is.

Kissing him feels even better than you had envisioned in your mind, and you melt against him, one hand braced against his chest while the other comes up to pull at the hair in the nape of his neck, needing him closer, not ready to let him go. He’s cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks, and you feel him smile against your lips. You lick into his mouth, revel in the groan that rumbles deep in his chest.

You don’t let go of him, holding onto his hand when you pull him up the stairs, soak in the feeling of him pressed against your body when you unlock your apartment door, let him connect his lips with yours again when he walks you backwards down your hallway.

Everything about him feels so right, so safe and yet like the most exciting experience you’ve ever had. You breathe him in, ecstatic with the sensation of his broad form against you, with the way you feel his muscles move under your fingers where you’re grabbing at his shoulders.

He lets you lead him into your bedroom, his hands still all over you. You push him down to sit on the edge of your bed and he follows your lead, sinking down on the mattress with an easy grin on his face, regarding you with hooded eyes. He wraps his hands around your waist as you’re standing in front of him and he pulls you closer. His fingers find their way below the hem of your skirt, dancing over the supple skin of your thighs, slowly inching up higher.

You whine, already squirming under his touch, and his grin widens.

“So soft,” he coos up at you, tightening his grip on your thighs and moving you to straddle him, your legs already spread wide to accommodate the thickness of his thighs beneath you. One hand comes up to cradle your face again, his thumb nudging at your lips and you flick your tongue against the digit, making him chuckle.

“And so pretty,” he continues, leaning in to connect your lips once more. You want to melt into him, let him consume every fiber of your being.

Your hands tug at his t-shirt, pulling it up, desperate to satisfy the need to be closer to him, to feel his bare skin against yours. He helps you, lifting the fabric over his head. You’ve seen most of his chest before, but not like this, not revealed just for you, in the dim light of your bedroom, yours to look at, yours to touch. He somehow seems even broader without clothes on and you’re almost transfixed by the thick cords of muscle of his arms and shoulders that are on display for you now.

He chuckles again, placing another kiss at the corner of your lips.

“You alright, princess?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling breathless, overwhelmed with how much you want him.

His hands splay over your thighs, fingertips dipping beneath your skirt again, slowly, teasingly skating higher.

“Take this off for me.” It’s phrased like an order, but it’s still so soft, not leaving a doubt in your mind that you could say no if you wanted to. But you don’t. You want him to see you, want to feel his eyes on you, want to have this hungry look that’s trained on your face burning all over your body.

He groans when you obey, a deep, rumbling sound that goes straight to your core and you know that he feels your thighs clenching on top of his. His mouth is on your bare skin within seconds, kissing and sucking, his tongue moving against you like he’s going to devour you.

You arch against him with a whine when he circles your nipple, first with his fingers and then with his tongue before sucking the sensitive bud between his lips. It’s all encompassing, the wetness of his mouth, the strong grip of his hands, the heat of his chest seeping into your skin where you’re pressing yourself against him.

“Please, Oberyn,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for, just knowing that you need more. His responding moan sends vibrations from his mouth straight through you, before his fingers dig into your waist and he flips you over, until your back is resting on your sheets and he’s hovering over you, your thighs still spread wide around him.

The image alone is enough to send another wave of arousal through you, the way he looks just as wrecked as you feel. His large hands spread your thighs wider as he leans back, his eyes trained on your panties, where you know the fabric must be soaked already.

“So pretty,” he mumbles again, more to himself than to you. His eyes fly back up to meet yours, almost black, his pupils blown wide. “Can I take these off?” He dips a finger under the lace covering your hip, pulling it away and letting it snap against your skin.

“Please.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, not when he looks up at you with the most sinful smirk on his face. His hands grasp the fabric and you lift your hips to help him pull it down, but his smirk widens as he tears the lace in half, ripping the shreds off of your body.

“Fuck,” you whine, not a single thought wasted on the fact that those were some of your favorite panties, every part of you focused on how badly you want his hands all over you.

His eyes stay focused on your expression, eagerly drinking in your every reaction as his fingers dip between your legs, so close to where you so desperately need him. He groans when he feels the wetness seeping from your folds, swirling his digits through it before reaching your clit. He’s ghosting over the sensitive nub with barely any pressure, but it’s enough to elicit a moan from you, your hips canting up to follow his touch. You’re distantly aware of the pleas that are falling from your lips, giving way to a loud whine when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your heat.

He thrusts into you, curling them just right, and his name tumbles out of your mouth again, laced with pure need. You watch in fascination when he sucks his slick-coated fingers into his mouth, eyes still trained on your face, a rumble forming in his chest at the taste.

“Tastes so sweet, princess.”

Your thighs fall open wider, shamelessly offering yourself to him, to his eyes, his hands. You reach out, grabbing at his waist, the need to feel all of him nearly overwhelming. His fingers intertwine with yours, pulling your hands away from his body. He lifts them up to his mouth and presses soft kisses against your knuckles, a whisper of patience on his lips before he lets go of you and rises up to rid himself of his jeans.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, a needy sigh escaping you when you think about feeling him inside you, about the way he’s gonna stretch your walls. You sit up, eagerly reaching for him again. Your fingers wrap around his cock, mesmerized by his girth, and he hisses when you move your hand over his length.

You hear the crinkle of plastic and then his hand is on yours, gently tugging it away, much too soon for your liking. You watch as he puts the condom on with practiced ease, the sight of his own hands on his cock enough to send another wave of arousal through you.

He’s back on you before you know it, sliding in between your spread legs, his large hands splayed over your upper thighs, pushing them further apart. His eyes are trained on your weeping pussy, a hungry darkness in them. You whine when he rubs his cock through your wetness before tapping against your clit.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice husky.

“Please, Oberyn.” Your desperate plea breaks off into a filthy moan when he sheathes himself inside of you, breaching your tight walls with the most delicious sting, and you feel your eyes rolling back into your head.

Pleasure grows inside of you as he starts to move, slamming into your pussy in a forceful rhythm. You feel so full of him, the sensation almost overwhelming as he hits the perfect spot over and over. The wave inside of you crests so suddenly that you barely realize what’s happening, the need that you’ve felt brewing all evening finally reaching its peak.

You gasp his name, nails pressing into his shoulders as he fucks you through it, until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He slows, moving in and out of you with shallow thrusts, his lips on yours once more.

You stay like that for a moment, arms wrapped around him, holding him close while you bask in the bliss that you’ve just experienced. But his continuous movements have the hunger for more growing inside of you once more. You meet his thrusts with your hips, needy to feel him deeper again. He props himself up, and it’s sinful how good he looks, his face glowing, a sheen of sweat on his skin.

You suck one of your fingers into your mouth, eyes wide and holding his gaze, feigning innocence. He watches you, a curious glint in his eyes, as you trail your hands from his shoulders down his back until you reach his ass and pull him further into you, fingernails digging into his flesh.

You let your saliva-covered finger reach further, gently massaging the puckered ring of muscle and he gasps, thrusting into you with so much force that it jostles your whole body and you cry out, the sensation of him so deep inside you a heady mix of pleasure and pain.

“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth as you keep up your ministrations, delighted to have this effect on him. “Fuck, princess, just like that…”

You bite your lip, grinning up at him. “Do the girls back home touch you like I do?”

He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, his movements never faltering as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them down on the mattress beside your head.

“No. And you’re gonna make me come if you keep this up, but I’m not finished with you yet,” he purrs, leaning down and sucking bruising kisses into the soft skin of your throat, the scratch of his beard only adding to the sensation. You free one of your hands from his grip to tug at his hair, your fingers burrowing in the soft strands at his neck and scratching against his scalp.

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” His voice in your ear makes you shiver and you nod, a breathless please on your lips.

“Good girl.” His kiss is soft against your cheek before he pulls away, his thrusts speeding up, as he grabs your hips, holding them up, giving you no choice but to take him. “Touch yourself,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining with exertion.

Your fingers are on your clit within moments, rubbing against it, slick with your arousal. The coil inside you tightens again, desperate for release once more.

“Give it to me princess, come on.” His voice sounds wrecked, and it’s the thing that makes you leap over the edge a second time, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you pulse around him, pure pleasure soaring through you.

He comes to a stuttering halt, hips pressed flush against yours, and his groans are almost enough to make you want to come again. He falls forward, forehead pressed against yours, and you share a lazy smile.

You think that he really is the most beautiful person that you’ve ever met.

You fell asleep curled against him, your head resting on his chest and soaking up his warmth, with his arm around your shoulder, but when you blink awake to soft morning light falling through your curtains, you are alone. You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You’ve seen him at the club, he’s probably in a different bed almost every night, you shouldn’t be surprised that he snuck out of yours in the morning. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be disappointed.

You get up with a sigh, pulling a t-shirt over your head and padding down the hall to the kitchen. You come to an abrupt halt in the doorway, met with a sight that you hadn’t expected. He’s standing in front of your open fridge, the expanse of his back bare and turned towards you. There’s a swoop of excitement in your stomach.

You exhale loudly and he turns towards you, an easy smile on his lips. “Good morning.” His voice sounds raspier, still thick with sleep.

“Hey,” you say, returning his smile. He closes the distance between you and cups your face, the sensation of his thumb against your cheek already a familiar one. His lips find yours and you get lost in the feeling of it, in the fantasy of this being your every morning, in pretending that he’s yours.

When he pulls away, the words are out of your mouth before your mind is able to catch up.

“I think I really like you.”

You want to bite your tongue immediately, to take them back. Too early, the voice in your head screams. Your eyes widen as you search for something else to say, but he doesn’t waver, still regarding you with that relaxed smile on his handsome face.

“Is– is it okay that I said that?”

He hums, his large hand still on your cheek.

“I think I really like you too.”

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #pedro pascal #game of thrones #oberyn martell fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: delicate

470 notes · View notes

3rachaslut · 8 months

Text

mirror sex w/ han

warnings: ROUGH sex, degrading, dacrophilia, bit of choking, pet names, (han calls reader slut, whore, etc) handcuffs, hair pulling, a cheeky slap, one mention of breeding

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since the lollapalooza vlog came out but i was too scared to post but it’s 11:23pm so rn idc. enjoy xox

you were a MESS. sweat sticking your hair to your face mixing with tears that never stopped falling from your eyes from the unbelievable pleasure your pussy was receiving.

“oh babygirl, don’t make me ask you again, fucking look. at. yourself” han demanded from behind you as he gripped a handful of your hair, yanking your head upwards and forcing you to look at your fucked out self in the mirror in front of you. you couldn’t see much of what was going on from how your tears were blurring your vision but you could certainly feel it. han, mercilessly ramming into you, gripping you by the hair and the cuffs that tied your hands together behind you.

“such a good girl, taking my cock like the slut you are” han chuckles. “you fucking love this don’t you? being used like a whore”. and it was true, you really did. with each thrust into you, you jerked further and further forward, your breath fogging the mirror in front of you. your mouth hung open and you scrunch your eyes closed as the pleasure in your stomach grew more and more.

“s..ir” you whine out through jagged breathes, “s’too.. much..”. the pleasure in your abdomen causing another wave of burning hot tears to fall from your eyes. han pulls out of your aching cunt and quickly flips you over, arms still chained and your legs spread wide, on full display for him.

“aww it’s too much? can’t take it baby?” he mocks, tilting his head at you and laughing at your desperate head shakes. “thought you were a slut for my cock no?” he says, once again ramming into you and his head is throw back.

“FUCK! ah-“ you scream as he roughly thrust against your sweet spot, your pussy becoming wetter and wetter. he wrapped his hand around your neck and broken moans were flowing out of your mouth as han grinned at you in pride. knowing he was the only man that could make you feel like this and how you would happily submit yourself to him like this made him feel so smug.

“that feel good baby? having your pussy fucking ruined, yeah?” he says, frantically bucking into you and landing a slap to your tits.

“ye- YES! fuck-“ you mewled, struggling to think straight. you absolutely loved being so blissfully out of your mind all because of hans cock in you, practically destroying you. “wan- want you to breed m- me sir” you begged and han chuckled in reply.

“oh i will baby girl, but i’m no where near close to be finished with you yet…”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x y/n #straykids smut #han jisung smut #han smut #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n

2K notes · View notes

bangtanintotheroom · 9 months

Text

Undershirt, Underskirt (M)

• Pairing: Bang Chan x (F)Reader

• Genre: Idol!AU, Smut, Fluff, Established Relationship

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 1.3k

• Summary: Your boyfriend’s Lollapalooza attire leaves you wanting for him more than usual.

• Warnings/themes: Chan’s Lollapalooza fit 🫠, pining, ogling, Y/N being horny on main, making out, riding, semi-clothed sex, unprotected sex (she’s on BC), praise

• Notes: *sighs* Look. I’m not gonna act like there was some deep reason behind writing this. I saw Chan in a tank and went absolutely feral. Like, DISGUSTINGLY FERAL. So I had to get it out of my system somehow 🥲 Funny enough, something like this happened last year with Hobi at Lollapalooza…makes me curious about next year lmao

• Notes (2): Thanks to my demonic tender @minttangerines for the beta and encouraging me to go ahead and get my thoughts out on paper! 💕

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki

Time was never something that you paid much attention to. You went with the flow with no problem. But right now?

Every second that passed by without your boyfriend walking through that room door was time that was wasted not sitting on his dick.

Your grip on the skirt of your dress tightened when you watched the minutes on the alarm clock change yet again. A low grumble escaped your pursed lips as you stewed in this lonely hotel room.

This was unlike you.

You weren’t some 24/7/365 horny monster who would wither away without a helping of Chan. But you had been witness to an unspeakable sight on the Lollapalooza stage.

The sight of Chan removing his jacket to reveal a white tank underneath paired with a multitude of gold chains.

The light stick you had been holding almost fell with how off-guard you were taken. All the times you had seen him in various states of undress and this was what broke you?

Maybe it was the simplicity of the fit that got to you.

Maybe it was the display of his muscled arms and lightly-tanned skin that affected you.

Maybe it was the fact that you kept seeing his top ride up, showing off the flatness of his lower stomach that sat above those damn leather shorts.

Leather shorts that concealed what you were dying to have in your mouth, hands or pussy right now.

Your thighs rubbed together at the strong wave of pleasure that washed over from the thought.

Okay, maybe it was all on you just being a horny mess.

The clicking of the doorknob had you darting up into a full sitting position now, watching it turn with widened eyes. The door opened to reveal the object of your salacious desires, his tired face lighting up at the sight of you.

“Hey baby! Sorry I’m so—”

Your body went on autopilot and bounded down the bed and over to Chan, pouncing on him with your arms wrapped tight around his neck. A sound of exertion left as the weight of you transferred onto him, the force pushing his back into the door. Before he could ask what had gotten into you, you planted your lips on his, the taste of him and his vanilla lip balm only exacerbating your horniness.

It took a few seconds, but he was quick to return your kiss, dropping the bag he held in favor of resting his palms on your ass. But the gentleness of his hold swept away as soon as your tongue came out to part his mouth, long fingers digging into the clothed flesh with intensity.

Damn.

You thought having him in the flesh would ease your pain, but his hard body against your softer one and the scent of his cologne and sweat invading your nostrils only made it worse. There was only one way to fix it.

Pulling away when you were losing breath, you panted, “Please fuck me.”

Chan’s lidded dark eyes opened wide at your plea, still trying to wrap his head around what the fuck was going on.

“Y-Y/N? You good?”

“No, I’m not good. I’ve been wet as an ocean since you were on stage and I need you to help me out.”

Your whining made a low groan leave him, head tipping back against the wood.

“For real?”

Rather than speak, you took one of his hands and slipped it under the hem of your dress. Just the light touch of his fingers brushing against your clothed center had you biting back a whimper, but it was nothing compared to the sharp swear Chan let out.

“The fuck, baby, you’re soaked—”

He ripped that concealed sound out of you by giving your near-throbbing clit a light pinch, making your knees wobble for a moment.

“Can you help me? U-Unless you’re tired…”

Chan straightened the both of you up with his free hand, the look in his eyes speaking volumes.

“Sleep is overrated. Come on.”

Your boyfriend may have denounced slumber earlier, but halfway through the fun, his movements grew a bit slower. Not wanting to exert him any further, you guided him to recline against the headboard and let you take over. The grateful smile he gave was more than enough to make your night.

Well, that and being able to finally sit on his dick like you so desperately wanted.

“Is this really all because of my outfit?”

A huff left you at his inquiry, one hand sliding down from his damp shoulder to give the tank top he still adorned a light tug.

“Yes, babe. Why do you sound so shocked?”

Chan chuckled, biting back a groan as you gave a clench. “Nah, I just don’t get to see you like this often. I like it.”

Now you giggled, leaning forward to press your nose against his.

“Do you?”

A sudden thrust from him interrupted your riding.

“Yeah.”

The moan you let out ended up bringing another stroke from him, forcing your hand to go back to holding him for support. His own roamed over your body, rubbing and gripping in multiple areas that made your blood run hot.

“This plus what you’ve got on? You’re lucky I didn’t run off the stage.”

You laughed at his scenario, knowing damn well he wouldn’t risk such a maneuver.

While you had requested Chan to keep his upper torso clothed (no point in keeping on the ripped shorts), he came in with one of his own, asking if he could just push your dress out of the way. You had no qualms against that, allowing him to tug the hem to gather around your waist while he slid your panties down and off your legs. So what if you were sweating a little more than usual because of the fabric?

That’s what showers were for.

One was definitely going to be necessary after the day the two of you had and the current act that was making everything between your moving bodies sticky and slippery.

After some time, every action on both of your ends led to your riding getting faster and off-beat and his occasional thrusts to become more frequent. It didn’t help when Chan buried his face into your neck, thick voice rumbling against your wet skin, “Gonna make me come if you keep this up, babygirl—”

Surely he could feel the tremble that rocked your entire body.

“Good.”

You gave him little time to prepare after your reply, doing a certain move with your hips that always pushed him to the edge quickly. This time was no exception, Chan’s noises of bliss increasing in pitch until a guttural groan silenced them, feeling him grab your hips to bury himself as he twitched and filled you up with his come. You were able to go against his grip a bit to roll your hips enough to give your clit some stimulation, allowing you to achieve your own orgasm as well.

You could feel Chan laying nips and kisses all over your neck as you shook, followed close with endless praise that made your pussy give clenches that forced his speech to pause. A sense of pride washed over you at how it pulled a few more spurts from him, adding to the heat that coated your walls.

As soon as you slumped onto him, he shifted your bodies so he was laid flat with you directly on top, toned arms holding you tight.

“All better now?”

A hum of content came from you as you snuggled into his chest, your overheated cheek enjoying the cool metal of his chains.

“Much better.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

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taintedbenevolence · 1 month

Text

"𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖊." — YANDERE DAN HENG · IMBIBITOR LUNAE x FEMALE READER

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 — nsfw, short prompt 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — Not proofread! Use of profanities, non-consensual display of affection, obsessive & possessive behavior, (brief insinuations/mentions of) breeding kink. Dan Heng bites and marks reader. notation: any character participants are aged 18 and up. just for the record. I don't write sexual content for minors. please know that.

"I warned you," he huffed with mild irritation, as he thrusted himself inside of you for what seemed to be another, countless time. "Don't test me."

It was a bad enough idea when you had decided to argue, telling him that you'd find a way out, pointing out all the individual flaws of the manner in which he kept you trapped.

You'd begun to find solutions to your inescapable cage with this man, and it filled him with indignation, because he was entirely enraptured by you, and he refused to let you go. The very thought of you escaping was something he couldn't stand.

Being all alone was the last thing he needed. Break his arms and legs, but he'll cling to you like there's no one else he loves more and needs.

But seeing as how you'd decided to try and make an attempt to escape, he had zero intent to let you go now, more than ever. He pondered on just what he'd do to finally ingrain in your head somewhere that you were not going to be leaving – not anytime soon, nor any time later.

He was fine doing anything and everything to keep you by his side.

He'd pump you full of his seed, fill you up with his cum day and night, if it'd remind you that you had no one and no place to go but him and only him, that you were meant to stay with him forever. You would be his and his alone. Right?

He couldn't bear the thought of someone else taking you away from him. With all that he's gone through, he at the very least deserves this. Wouldn't you agree?

Even so, you'd grown accustomed to the feel of your wrists bound by chains and cuffs above your head, your ankles tied down similarly whilst his tail coils around your waist, holding you down in place as he pushes in and out of you.

All nice and tied up, open and ready to take whatever was going to ruin you tonight. Would it be his fingers, his tongue, or his cock this time?

It was a chilling feeling that never failed to scare you—the feeling of helplessness that the Vidyadhara always managed to incite within you. It terrified you—to be taken advantage of in such way without being able to do anything about it.

Whether his carnal instincts were led by his previous incarnation or not, you had not the slightest idea, and frankly, you didn't really want to know either.

All you could do was stay down while he fucked your brains out. ... You should probably watch your mouth the next time you're mad.

He drinks up your mewls, your abused, puffy hole unable to handle any more, but he licks your tears away, seemingly uncaring about how you beg him to stop. In his eyes, this is a punishment. If you keep acting like this, he really won't be able to be as kind as he wishes to be.

He doesn't mean to hurt you, and if you'd let him, oh how he'd worship your body without leaving a single mark, but he can't help himself if you keep behaving yourself like a brat. Please, can't you comply at the very least once? Would it kill you to show some acceptance for him?

Maybe.

And with how many times he has cum inside you, it upsets him that you really can't be impregnated by him. It'd delight him to see your belly swollen with his baby, but alas, it's only a fantasy.

A fantasy that he can't help but try to indulge in every time he fucks you raw.

Perhaps it's a little wrong of him to enjoy how much you cry whenever he does this to you. Just maybe. Maybe. Your cheeks all red, stained with tears, pretty puffed lips all swollen because of his rough, frequent kisses — it makes his heart swell.

He loves it. He loves you.

His face is nuzzled up in the crook of your neck, teeth sinking into the soft skin, leaving numerous red marks that most likely will stay for a long time, if not forever, his mouth moving to leave more bruises upon your skin to claim you as his own.

"Dan Heng—" You manage to moan, almost choking on your tears, feeling him push in and out with a rapidity you cannot measure. "'ts too much, 'm cumming, please, a-ah—!"

It's all too much. It hurts too much. You feel too much. Too much pain, too much pleasure, it's all mixing up and your brain by now has been reduced to mush, your words a babbling mess as you whine, whine, and whine, to a point where you don't know how you have not lost your voice.

"Mine, mine, mine, please, s' good," you hear him murmur incoherently to you, the only sound left in the area being the wet squelch, the slapping sounds of skin against skin, your unstable cries, and your sobbing along with his sweet moans as he makes love to you. "P-please, don't leave, mgh-"

Any trace of his gentle demeanor was thrown away from the moment he had you pressed on the mattress. There was only a burning need left in him.

A need only you could satiate. An obsession that would never end.

And for what he's done to you, he knows you harbor hate, but he knows it makes you feel good, so why play pretend? ♡

---------------------------------------------------

A / N - It's a little shorter than usual, sorry </3 Writer's block has been absolutely demolishing me, but I'm hanging in there, I've got a few requests which I'm almost done with rn.. Sorry for the inactivity, I'll be hopefully posting more often if I'm not too burnt-out. Getting this one out so I can finally publish the Neuvi request..

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donatellawritings · 2 months

Note

hiiii 💕 i need to see how rafe shows off his latina sweetheart ESPECIALLY when it comes to her being around other guys ty tella

one thing is for certain: rafe cameron has never been one to shy away from putting his girl on full display, nor was he afraid to publicly stake his claim on you in many different ways. rafe is a man of grandeur, and as much as he loved being the center of attention, but loved having you showered and adorned, even more. he knew the challenges that came with being with a girl like you - you were precocious, your swollen lips expanding into a dreamy that could make any man fall to his knees, your naive, yet aware cadence magnetized those around you, but rafe could not and would not allow just anyone to approach you. at the end of the day, you were his - his girl, the only one who could make his entire world crumble with a snap of your baby pink, acrylic-nail enforced finger.

rafe was quick to dress you in the finest jewelry, dainty white gold chains, bracelets, and rings adorning your limbs, his initials either dangling from or engraved into each individually crafted piece of jewelry. the young man couldn’t find the strength to ignore the swell of pride that came with seeing you wear his initials for the first time. it took everything in him, not to knock you up with his first child the moment he laid his eyes on you.

“how do i look, papi?” you asked sweetly, your swollen, glittery gloss covered lips expanding into a stupidly sweet smile as you joyously bit down into your bottom lip, eyes wide with anticipation as rafe approached you.

rafe carefully lifted the diamond-encrusted ‘R’ that dangled from the dainty chain, his hand lightly resting around the base of your throat, “y’look beautiful, baby, just don’t take that off, okay?” he instructed, his eyebrows raised with authority as you nodded furiously, before sliding your delicate hand up his tense chest.

“thank you, it’s so beautiful,” you beamed, bouncing on your heels as rafe brought his hand to your wrist, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, before taking a close look at your empty, for now, ring finger.

aside from outrageously expensive gifts, rafe made it a point to have you under his arm, at all times. there was a substantial height difference between the two of you, rafe making sure to use his staggering height and long arms as means for keeping you tucked close into his side. if it was a seated moment, you were prettily perched atop of his lap as rafe kept one of his arms loosely secured around you.

this, of course, came with rafe being obnoxiously public about his displays of affection towards you. quite frankly, rafe didn’t give a fuck who was around, if the mood struck, he’d have you held by the back of your neck as his lips swallowed yours in an erotic kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he put on a show for any guy who believed that they had even the slightest of chances of getting to you, let alone with you. there was even a time where rafe had felt as though, topper was looking a bit too closely in your direction, so he decided to up the ante.

“open your mouth, mama,” he rasped, his hand wrapped around you throat as your eyes widened with fear and exhilaration, maybe it was the coke that he’d painted on your gums a few minutes prior?

you complied with ease, your swollen lips parting as rafe pulled you in closer, by the base of your throat, his bright blue eyes locked on topper as he softly tilted your head back, before allowing a line of spit to roll off of his tongue and fall into your welcoming mouth. a low moan escaping your throat as you swallowed happily, before leaning back against rafe’s firm chest. rafe lightly slapped the side of your thigh, finally peeling his eyes away from a now dumbstruck topper, allowing his head to roll back against the couch as you licked and sucked at the taut skin on the side of his neck.

you see, this was only a taste of how sadistic rafe could be. sometimes, rafe would push the limits, even going as far as to stuffing his cock deep inside of your pretty little pussy, while his boys sat awkwardly in the next room.

the sound of rafe’s hips slamming into the plush fat of your ass, coupled by the squelch of your wet hole swallowing his length could be heard, echoing through the kitchen as you let out a throaty moan, your hand slapping onto the smooth surface of the counter as you ached to grab onto the nearest object you could find.

“fuck, baby - shit, uh top what the fuck were you trying to tell me about?” rafe smirked, his stomach tightened as his balls slapped against your ass, his arm sliding around your waist, in an effort to pull you straight up against his chest. a sharp exhale left rafe’s lips as he relished in the new angle, pressing his hand flush against your lower abdomen to feel the small bump whenever he fully thrusted into you.

topper stood in the main living area of tannyhill with his mouth slack open, his eyes blown with disbelief as he struggled to figure out just how he would be able to carry a conversation with rafe, “uh, s’nothing too crazy man, i just-”

“fuck, rafe, s’too much,” you moaned, looking up at him through your doll lashes as he continued to fuck into you with no change in his impressive stamina. you let out a high-pitched whine as rafe pressed you closer against him, his sharp teeth nipping at your jaw.

“i know, baby, just let me finish talkin’ to topper, a’ight?” he cooed, his rapid and hard thrust now decreasing into slow and deep rolls of his hips against your ass, your increased wetness resulting in louder and more frequent squelches coming from your pulsing pussy. a smile now played on rafe’s lips as you nodded weakly, his large hand now covering your mouth, “sorry man, what were you saying?” he called out.

topper ran his fingers through his hair with a forced laugh of embarrassment as he shrugged, “yeah, uh i don’t even know what i was saying man, i’m going to head to the back” topper gave up, the hum of your muffled moans and sopping pussy becoming all too much for rafe’s best friend to withstand as he rushed towards the backyard, eager to get away from the awkwardness that came with hearing rafe fuck your brains out.

and to top it all off, rafe cameron was not one to hesitate when it came to his impulsive behaviors, he’d rather deal with broken knuckles and cut cheekbones than have any man try to challenge him when it came to who you belonged to. rafe wasn’t new to fights, nor was he ever scared to get in one. sure, there was a new pang of guilt that ached in his chest as he heard your cries and attempts to get him to fall back, but rafe was a very proactive man, he had a reputation to protect and uphold, even if it was strained and volatile.

there was no way in hell that rafe would ever allow a man to walk away unscathed, especially if he had the balls to touch you. sure, rafe could do without the look of disappointment that glazed over your pretty eyes, but he had a job as a man, your man, to protect you, and he’d be damned if he felt ashamed for it. “stop looking at me like that, baby,” he scolded, nudging your chin with his free hand as he continued to hold onto the steering wheel.

you huffed, pulling your head away from rafe’s touch as you relaxed into the passenger seat. your threaded eyebrows furrowed with attitude while you remained silent and disobedient.

rafe scoffed, before turning to look at you, “knock it off, y’should not have even been that fuckin’ close to him,” rafe spat, his free hand now pointing a finger at you, before returning to the steering wheels, his bloodstained knuckles now strained from his tight grip, “hey, i’m serious, drop the attitude.”

you sighed, a pout now playing on your lips as you reached for rafe’s arm, bringing his hand to lay on your thigh as you leaned your face against his tight bicep, your eyes lowering to take in the sight of his swollen knuckles.

“i don’t like when you fight, you always get hurt, rafey,” you sighed, clinging to rafe’s arm as he rolled his eyes, carefully turning the steering wheel.

“yeah? well, if you stopped being so fuckin’ friendly, i wouldn’t have to do this, mama,” he sang, his tone teetering on being condescending as you pressed your cherry stained lips to the skin of his bicep, the glint of your gifted chain glinting against the streetlights.

as long as you wore that chain, as long as you were his, rafe wouldn’t stop until the entire world knew just who it was that you belonged to.

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #obx #rafe cameron #asks #sweetheart!reader

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cybrsan · 2 months

Text

Light It Up! — K.HJ, P.SH

STORY SUMMARY: The year is 2077, and the world is a lawless dystopia where tech giants and major corporations hold all the power. Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa are an infamous criminal duo who have made names for themselves fighting against the "techno brainwashing" of society. Discovering they're on the brink of getting caught, they decide to go out with a bang—and who better to help them than their favorite plaything?

PAIRING: Kim Hongjoong x F!Reader x Park Seonghwa

RATING/GENRE: M ; smut ; criminal / cyberpunk / dystopian AU

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Arson, breaking and entering, clubbing, alcohol + drug use, pet names (doll, precious), rioting, violence

NSFW WARNINGS: Choking, creampie, cum stuffing, cunnilingis, deep throating, exhibitionism, fire play, fingering, free use, hair-pulling, knife play (light), multiple orgasms, play party, public sex, spitroasting, sub drop, threesome, overstimulation

A/N: Don't blame me, blame the MATZ m/v.

LINKS: Masterlist, cross-posted on AO3.

“And… there!”

After days of meticulous planning, organizing, and making shady, back-alley deals, it’s finally done. The last camera is in position—everything is ready for the big event. All that’s left for you to do is step back and admire your work.

Switching on your illegally procured holodeck, you press a few buttons and watch as the space around you completely transforms. What was once an abandoned warehouse is now a club that could rival any in the city center. Neon lights pulse to heavy synth, serving bots whiz from place to place, and the makeshift bar looks inviting enough with rows of expensive bottles on display. Whether or not the liquor in the bottles is worth the price, well… Hopefully people will be too distracted to notice.

The focal point, the one thing you are most proud of, is the transparent stage that extends at least 15 feet above the dance floor. Taking in the grandeur of it all is more than enough to get you excited for what's to come. You're certain that Hongjoong and Seonghwa will put on the performance of the century.

Today is incredibly important for both of them, and the fact that they have trusted you enough to include you more than makes up for the long hours and strenuous work. They’re currently out setting up their "grand finale," which they have been painstakingly cryptic about. You have your suspicions, not that you need or even want to know the specifics.

A low whistle pierces the air. "You really outdid yourself this time, doll."

You turn to look at Seonghwa as he enters, and your heart practically skips a beat when you take in his appearance—he must have changed in preparation for the big event. His hair, pulled away from his face, lets you focus on his features; dark eyes, full lips, all beautifully accented by his smoky makeup. His outfit is one you haven't seen on him before, but it suits him perfectly, from the gold chains hanging around his neck to the deep cut of his silk shirt.

"Thanks, Hwa," you reply bashfully, dusting off your hands on your jeans. "Just trying to do my part."

He approaches you, a smirk tugging at his lips. The way he stares at you, drinks you in… it makes you feel like a prey animal who has found itself in the sights of a predator. You blush and cast your gaze to the floor, suddenly fascinated by the specks of dirt at your feet.

"And you have done it spectacularly." He lifts your chin with his pointer finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "I think you deserve a reward."

Seonghwa drops his gaze to your lips for just a moment before he leans in, closing the space between you with an almost agonizing slowness. The kiss is gentle and commanding all at once and you shiver, immediately pulling him closer. The fatigue, the stress—all of it melts away.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling on it with just enough force to make you gasp. His tongue slides expertly against yours, the taste of him something sweet and darkly rich, like cherry liquor. It’s addictive. But the moment ends too soon for your liking, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Seonghwa doesn’t pull away entirely, resting his forehead against yours as he lifts a hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. He lets his touch linger as he traces a path down your neck, lithe fingers playing with the necklace dangling above your chest. Three dainty, silver hearts. One for you, one for Seonghwa, and one for—

The rev of a motorcycle engine cuts through the air, and your head snaps toward the sound just in time to see Hongjoong park his bike at the door. He takes off his helmet and shakes out his hair which you’re surprised to see is freshly dyed. It almost makes you laugh; of course even as he’s out running errands for his coup de grâce, he finds time for fashion.

“Not starting the party without me, I hope?”

Hongjoong’s heeled boots click pleasantly atop the concrete flooring as he walks over to the two of you. His synthetic fur coat is a bright orange, the complete opposite of what one might expect a criminal on the run to wear. But both he and Seonghwa have never been ones for hiding.

“Never,” Seonghwa replies, clapping a hand on the back of the younger’s neck. “Did you get it done?”

Hongjoong scoffs in a teasing manner. “Did you doubt I would?”

“Of course not.” Seonghwa squeezes Hongjoong’s neck once before letting go and clapping his hands together. “Looks like it’s time for the show.”

A few hours later, the party is in full swing. The once-empty warehouse is now filled to the brim with people dressed in cloaks and masks for the sake of anonymity. Some are on the dance floor, grinding against each other, while others have drifted toward the bar, downing shots and laughing.

Toward the back of the room, there's a group huddled around a table, huffing glitter, black lace, and who knows what other kinds of drugs. Meanwhile, others are tangled together on couches, lost in the throes of ecstasy. The air is so thick with the smell of smoke and sweat that it almost makes you dizzy.

A hand wraps around your neck from behind, pulling you against a warm body, and you gasp. “That’ll be us later, precious,” Hongjoong whispers, hot breath fanning against your ear. Your nervousness ebbs away, immediately replaced by eagerness. “Do you like watching them? Or maybe you’d prefer to be the one being watched?”

You lean back against him, the hand around your neck a welcome pressure. “Both,” you breathe.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter. “Good.”

He separates from you, and you turn to face him. He seems so confident, so excited, that it’s hard to believe he and Seonghwa are about to paint targets on both of their backs. Hit by a wave of anxiety, you lean forward and kiss him. He immediately reciprocates, nipping at your bottom lip and eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue.

Kissing him is always different than kissing Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s kisses are controlled, with a hidden power brewing behind them. There’s always a promise of more, a hint at what is to come when he finally lets go. On the other hand, Hongjoong kisses with reckless abandon. He is uninhibited, always ready to devour you whole. When he pulls back, a string of spit hangs between you before snapping.

“You nervous?” You nod, and he gently tweaks your chin between two fingers. “Don’t be. Those tech bastards have no idea what we have in store.”

“I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“And we will be,” he assures you. "After everything goes up in flames. Trust me, precious. Trust us.”

“I do.” And it’s true. You trust them with everything that you have.

“That’s our girl.” He kisses you again. “It’s time to go live.”

You take out your holodeck, and with the click of a button, all the cameras you set up switch on. You hurriedly switch channels through all the local stations, thrilled to see that it worked and the entire club is being streamed live to every device in the city.

You stop the music and make the lights go out, causing a hush to fall over the crowd. You shine one beam of light directly onto the stage and you watch as Seonghwa steps out to address the throng of people below. He is captivating and has no problem commanding all of the power in the room.

“Welcome one and all,” Seonghwa begins, voice booming over the speakers. “If you’re here, it means you are brave enough to fight against the corporations that enslave our society!”

Hongjoong steps up next to him, and while he’s smaller in stature, he exudes no less power. However, he stays silent as Seonghwa continues, “We will not be silenced any longer. Tonight, we raise our voices in defiance; we will no longer bow down to those who seek to control us!”

The crowd explodes into thunderous applause but immediately falls silent when Hongjoong raises a hand. "But tonight isn’t just about the revolution—it is also a celebration of our freedom, our individuality, and our unity. So let loose because everyone in the city is watching and we all know that, deep down, they wish they were us!”

Cheers and shouts fill the room once again as everyone raises their glasses in solidarity. Your heart swells with pride as you take it all in. You have become a part of something far greater than yourself and, just like your boys, you are willing to do whatever it takes to see it through to victory.

You switch the music and lights back on and the party resumes in full force. People seem to go even harder than they were before, playing up their hedonism for the cameras. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have disappeared into the crowd, likely to mingle and spread their message one-on-one.

Seonghwa favors the dance floor, hypnotizing those around him as he moves. A contented smile tugs at the corner of his lips as his hips sway to the beat, as beautiful as he is provocative. He flits from person to person, holding them close as he whispers into their ears. He occasionally catches you watching him, always making sure to tease you with a wink.

On the other hand, Hongjoong stalks the perimeter of the room, moving from group to group. His skill lies in charming people with his words, and tonight is no different. Everyone who speaks to him smiles and laughs, completely enamored with everything he says. He shakes hands, claps shoulders, and you have no doubt that if people weren’t loyal before, they will be when he’s through.

You stick to one of the quieter corners of the room in order to keep an eye on the cameras. You need to make sure that everything is running smoothly both in and out of the club; the last thing you need is for someone to reveal your location or try to hack into your network and ruin everything. You also keep a close eye on your boys, making sure they stay safe.

It’s past midnight by the time they come and find you. Hongjoong sits on your left, placing a hand on your thigh as he leans toward you and kisses your cheek. His lips linger a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he purrs, “You should be out there, dancing, having fun.”

“I am having fun,” you say, taking the champagne glass offered to you by Seonghwa.

Seonghwa sits on your right, throwing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “You would be having even more fun if you put down the holodeck.”

“But—”

Hongjoong takes it from you, throwing it haphazardly onto the cushion beside him. “Don’t argue.”

He leans forward again, this time lightly nibbling your earlobe with his teeth. You gasp, knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip on your glass out of instinct. Seonghwa watches the two of you with half-lidded eyes, his hand trailing down your side and slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to trace patterns over your flushed skin.

“It’s a night for celebration, doll,” he murmurs. “You have done your job. The only thing we need from you now is… well, you.” He squeezes your hip and you jump slightly. “The badges will be here in a little over an hour according to one of my sources. While not as long as I’d like, it gives us just enough time to have a celebration of our own.”

Your thighs clench in anticipation—you know exactly what he’s hinting at.

"Lead the way, then," you say, setting your half-empty glass down.

Seonghwa’s gaze meets Hongjoong’s over your head, an unspoken agreement passing between them. They stand up and pull you toward the dance floor, surrounding you, one at your front and one at your back. You sway between them to a slow, seductive rhythm, closing your eyes as you let yourself enjoy their attention.

Seonghwa’s hands rest on your waist, pulling you against him as he starts to move his hips in tandem with yours, grinding against you. Meanwhile, Hongjoong cups your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. His eyes are dark and intense as he captures your mouth with his own in a searing kiss.

Seonghwa’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he watches Hongjoong devour you. He keeps one hand on your hip while the other snakes around to cup the back of Hongjoong’s neck, causing the younger to moan into your mouth at the touch. Now with a possessive grip on you both, Seonghwa gets to work nipping and marking the exposed skin of your shoulder.

The room seems to disappear around you as they continue to explore you, their mouths and hands feeling like they are everywhere at once. It's intoxicating, even more so than the champagne you were drinking earlier. You feel Seonghwa’s hand trail even lower, disappearing under your waistline, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin.

You gasp and Hongjoong laughs against you, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Let’s give them a good show, hm?”

You let the two of them drag you onto the stage, cheeks ablaze as you realize exactly what they’re planning. You’re hyper aware of the fact that you are being watched; even though most of the club-goers are lost in their own pleasure, the viewers that are steaming have nothing better to do than keep their eyes locked on you.

Seonghwa clicks his tongue, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Look at our girl, acting so shy.” His fingers find your heart necklace, tugging at it just hard enough to make you gasp. “As if wearing this doesn’t mean we can do whatever we want to you, whenever and wherever we want.”

Hongjoong takes a switchblade out of his pocket, flipping it open with a maniacal grin on his face. He uses it to cut away your clothes, exposing your body for everyone to see. Your knees shake and whether it is out of anxiety or anticipation, you can’t tell.

He traces the tip of it against your skin, the cold metal leaving goosebumps in its wake. “We know you love it, precious,” he says. “Don’t you want everyone to see how good we make you feel? Think of all the viewers out there that will feel oh-so-scandalized but still won’t be able to look away. Not to mention all the greedy whores who will be getting themselves off to us, wishing they were in our places.”

Seonghwa pulls you against him just like he did on the dance floor, once again letting his fingers tease his way down your stomach. But this time, he lets them travel even lower, dipping into your folds.

“Look how wet you are just from this,” he remarks, bringing his fingers back up and spreading them so you can see the evidence of your own desire. He then extends them to Hongjoong who greedily laps at them, sucking them clean.

You whine, trying to keep your legs closed from embarrassment, knowing anyone below the stage can look right up at you and see exactly how aroused you are. But Seonghwa won’t let you, shoving his knee between your thighs. Almost instinctively, you grind down on it, letting another pathetic sound slip past your lips.

Hongjoong’s eyes glint with wicked delight at your reaction, his own hands reaching out to cup your breasts. “Someone’s eager,” he teases, tweaking a nipple between two fingers.

You hear a few wolf whistles from the crowd, a few lewd comments being thrown your way, but they only make you more excited.

“I…” You’re panting heavily, making it hard for you to speak. You have to take a deep breath before trying again. “I want you. Please.”

“Anything for you, doll,” Seonghwa coos, returning his attention to your core. He pushes in one finger all the way to his knuckle with no warning and, if it weren’t for his hold on you, your legs would have buckled.

“Fuck.” The curse slips from your lips, half whimper, half moan, as he continues pumping his finger inside your wet heat.

Hongjoong lowers his head, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as he pinches and tugs at the other. You grip his shoulders for purchase as your head lolls back to rest on Seonghwa’s chest, whining at the onslaught of sensation. The feeling of Seonghwa inside of you while Hongjoong lavishes his attention on your breasts is unlike anything you have ever felt.

As Seonghwa adds another finger, Hongjoong’s lips mark a path from your breasts, to your stomach, and then lower as he sinks to his knees in front of you. He grabs your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, just as his tongue finds your clit. His tongue draws figure eights around it as Seonghwa continues to pump his fingers relentlessly inside of you.

“T-too much…” you gasp. But neither of them slow down—if anything, feeling how close you are makes them double down on their efforts. Hongjoong sucks your clit into his mouth at the same time Seonghwa adds a third finger, curling them inside of you.

Seonghwa kisses the back of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs.

That small bit of praise is all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge, eyes rolling back as your body goes taut with pleasure. Hongjoong eagerly laps up your release, only prolonging your orgasm. Seonghwa gently removes his fingers from you and you hear rather than see when he brings them to his mouth, tasting yourself on his skin.

Hongjoong pulls back, licking his lips to clean them of your release before his trademark smirk returns. “I think it’s time for you to return the favor, precious. Don’t you think, Hwa?”

Seonghwa trails a hand down your spine, humming. “I don’t know if she can handle it.”

“I can,” you gasp, eager to please them just as they did you. “I can, I promise. Anything you want.”

You almost jump from surprise as some spectators in the crowd start yelling their vulgar suggestions as to how exactly they think you should please your partners. You’re sure if you looked at your holodeck, the live chat would be filled with similar comments as well.

Hongjoong laughs, grabbing your face in his hand. “Don’t worry about them. You can have us however you like.”

Blushing, you say, “You choose.”

His eyes light up and he immediately looks behind you to Seonghwa. Just like earlier, some sort of silent communication passes between them, and then you feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, urging you to bend over.

“Why don’t you show our Joong what that pretty mouth of yours can do while I fill you up, hm?”

You barely have enough time to nod your agreement before Hongjoong is unbuckling his belt and freeing himself of his constraints. You nearly salivate at the sight of his cock, red and wanting. He grabs your hair and pulls, tugging you forward as much as he can with Seonghwa’s bruising grip on your waist keeping you in place. Tears prick at your eyes but it’s as pleasurable as it is painful, and you take him into your mouth eagerly.

The head of Seonghwa’s cock teases your folds before he finally pushes forward into you. He starts moving at a slow, torturous pace, pulling out of you before slamming right back in. Each thrust propels you forward, forcing you to take Hongjoong deeper into your mouth. You feel so full, so used. It’s incredible.

“Look at her,” Hongjoong coos, staring down at you. “Look at how well she takes us.”

Seonghwa just groans, grinding into you so deeply that you have to choke back a moan around Hongjoong’s cock. He’s gotten quieter, his thrusts sloppier, a telltale sign that he is losing himself in his own pleasure. Meanwhile, Hongjoong’s grip tightens around your hair, guiding your head back and forth on his length. Each thrust cuts off your air supply, making you see stars.

Seonghwa’s hand snakes around to your front, fingers finding your swollen clit. You moan again, and Hongjoong echoes you as the vibrations travel up his cock.

“Shit,” he curses. “So fucking good.”

Seonghwa’s thrusts grow increasingly erratic and you hear his breath hitch; instinctively, you clench around him, and he spills into you. His release sends you spiraling into your second orgasm of the night, walls fluttering around him as you milk his cock of every drop.

Hongjoong pulls out of your mouth not long after, squeezing the base of his shaft to prevent himself from following the two of you over the edge. The second Seonghwa steps away from you, he is taking his place, forcing himself inside of you before any of the elder’s cum can drip out.

“Hongjoong,” you gasp, nearly falling forward from the force of his thrusts. Seonghwa maneuvers himself so that he can support you, holding you in his arms as Hongjoong pounds into you with bruising force.

“Gonna fill you just like Hwa did,” he growls. “Make you mine. Ours. You’re ours.”

“Can’t… can’t…” Words escape you, your mind going blank.

“Yes, you can,” Seonghwa says, stroking your hair. “You can take it. You can come for us one more time.”

His voice is comforting, but you also hear the command in his tone. You choke out a sob, nodding weakly as Hongjoong guides your hips back against him again and again. You can feel another orgasm coming on already, the coil tightening in your stomach. Seonghwa continues to murmur words of praise, stopping only to pepper kisses along your heated skin.

The coil snaps and you cry out as you come undone, Hongjoong’s cock still buried deep inside of you. His hips stutter and he curses, his warm release mixing with Seonghwa’s. He slowly pulls out and you can feel as some of their cum trickle down your thighs. You collapse against Seonghwa completely, no longer able to stand on your own two legs.

You feel light-headed and blood pounds in your ears, muffling the cheers you assume are coming from the crowd. You’re too far gone to be embarrassed, and a lazy smile tugs at your lips—the three of you surely gave them the show of a lifetime.

Suddenly, you feel heat lick at your skin, and you snap back into yourself fully, cringing away from it. Your eyes focus, and you see Hongjoong flicking a lighter open and closed, open and closed.

“There’s our girl,” he remarks. He brings the lighter to your skin again, just close enough for you to feel the heat of it without it burning you. “I think we were a bit rough with you, precious. You were totally out of it, shivering and everything.”

Seonghwa is behind you again, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. You press further against him, squirming as the heat tickles your skin.

“Back with us?” Seonghwa asks.

You nod. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Hongjoong—enough.”

Hongjoong stops immediately, flipping the lighter closed with a tsk. “Fine. It’s gonna get hotter in a minute anyway.”

Now that you’re focused, you finally hear the shouting and crashing coming from below. The very people who were just watching you on stage are now rioting, destroying the warehouse and everything in it. The cameras, the bar, all of your hard work—now there is just destruction, everywhere you look.

You shoot up, hurriedly dressing yourself so that you are no longer the only one naked as panic begins to take hold. “What’s going on? Seonghwa, Hongjoong, we need to—”

You waver on your feet, nearly tripping. Luckily, Seonghwa catches you. “Calm down, it’s okay,” he says, hushing you. “This is all part of the plan.”

Hongjoong gestures to the crowd, pointing out some things you missed. “See how some of them are drenching the place with gasoline? We’re gonna light it up.”

Maybe you’re still delirious from your multiple orgasms, but you are having trouble understanding what the two of them mean. “Why? I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“This was all a distraction,” Seonghwa explains. “The club, the livestream, us putting on a show. We did it so that all eyes would be on us, and all the badges would be wasting their resources trying to find our location.”

You nod slowly as the pieces begin to come together. “So, while I was setting all of this up…”

“We were out there. Planting bombs at some of the biggest tech headquarters in the city.” Hongjoong smiles, spreading his arms wide. “Our coup de grâce, just like we’ve been saying.”

Despite all of your suspicions, this is something you never would have been able to guess. Before you can even begin to truly comprehend the magnitude of what they’ve done, sirens pierce the air. Everyone screams and begins to run out of the warehouse. Seonghwa grabs your hand, and nods to Hongjoong. “Now!”

Hongjoong throws his lighter to the ground below and flames erupt instantly, devouring everything in sight. Luckily, most of the crowd has already escaped, and you feel confident no one should get caught in the aftermath. Still, it’s pandemonium, and smoke fills your lungs as Seonghwa pulls you closer, shielding you with his body as he hurries toward the nearest exit.

Hongjoong follows after you, but lags behind as he keeps looking over his shoulder at the fire with a sadistic grin on his face. “That’s how we do it,” he yells, voice barely audible over the blaze.

“Get yourself together,” Seonghwa barks. “We need to get out of here before the cops realize what’s going on and find us.”

Suddenly, Hongjoong trips, his foot catching on some loose debris. Seonghwa reacts instantly, yanking him back to his feet and throwing an arm around his waist. The three of you continue onward as the heat of the fire licks at your back. You crash through one of the exit doors, and stumble away into the night, disappearing into the sea of masked faces.

All across the nation, devices light up with the same headline: “City in Chaos as Blazing Inferno Distracts from Large-Scale Bombing of Tech Giants.”

“Nation-wide manhunt underway. Suspects Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa believed to be connected to an underground criminal group called The Black Pirates…”

NETWORKS: @cromernet @kflixnet @pirateeznet

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie @nebulousbrainsoup @ad0rechuu @sanniesbunnie @seonghwaddict @fruitcakebin @kickti @abby-grace @fireseo @yunhofingers @ohflorah @oiminho @baekbao @byuntrash101 @hyukssunflower @thatnerdytomboy @straykidsholicleigh

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gamermattsgf · 4 months

Text

Sour diesel // dealer Chris

Warnings: Chris smut / blowjob / male stimulation / throat fuck / usage of drugs / smoking / shotgun kiss / drug dealer!Chris x fem reader / hair pulling / switch Chris / exhibitionism / slapping / slight degradation + begging kink? / Chris + lip pierced

Summary: Chris is the reader’s drug dealer. And a very close drug dealer at that. Close enough for him to want to get high and horny with her when she unexpectedly shows up at his doorstep.

Author’s notes: don’t do drugs kids!! For some strange reason, Chris suspiciously fits this role perfectly irl. I don’t know what it is about him… Maybe it’s just the fact that he constantly looks high, or maybe it’s his hair and clothes… idk. Anyways, yes, proceed to enjoy some good ol’ weed smoking lovin’ ;)

“Legs in the air, all dirty again… smoking some more, I’m in her space… she touches me there, and then I do it again” - Sour diesel, Zayn

Police sirens wail from outside of the busy apartment complex. You knock on the brown door with a brass metal ‘4’ screwed onto the top of it before stepping back and cautiously peering your head down either side of the corridor to check if anyone else is around.

It’s a dreary but bright day, the sun pale with grey clouds flooding the sky. All throughout the city impatient cars honk their horns and the bustle of the crowds is never ending.

The twist of a lock on the other side of the door snaps your eyes back to the peeling front paint. The door creaks open a crack, and the familiar face of the man on the other side peeks out of it sneakily to examine who it is that is at his door, before realising that it’s you and gasping quietly.

He shuts the door quietly once again and you can hear the scratching of the metal chain being slid off of the door hook so that he can open it fully.

Once he does you see him with a white shirt resting on the hooks of his elbows, as if he was half way ready to put it on when you had knocked on the door. His messy dark brown tresses of curls are dishevelled and dust about his forehead in a fluffy nest, like he had just woken up. Equally, his naked, pale chest is on full display before he shoves his head through the t-shirt hole and uses his hands to pull it right down to his hips, where a pair of black sweatpants rest lowly below his hipbones. This only furthers your guess about him napping before seeing you.

‘Ayy! Doll face, come on in pretty!’ He quips in a friendly manner, a toothy grin lighting up his face whilst he steps aside to let you into his apartment. The labret lip ring nestled into the centre of his bottom lip glints with every move his mouth makes in the fluorescent hallway lighting.

You cheerily muse back a quick ‘long time no see Chris… started to miss you’ as you walk past the threshold, unconsciously looking up to one of his hands that grips the door right above his head whilst he leans on the wood.

Chris laughs fondly at your statement, slamming and locking the door shut behind you which encloses the both of you into his dingy apartment with dirty laundry scattered about the floor and the dishes still undone in his kitchen area.

‘Was it me you were missing? Or the drugs?’

Scanning around the apartment more thoroughly this time, you start to notice the little things… like a marijuana crusher, as well as messily stashed small plastic baggies with white powder or pills in them and joint rolling paper scattered across his already busy coffee table.

Chris is your drug dealer.

But… he is also somewhat of a friend as well. To be honest though, this is about as friendly as one can get with their supplier. Chris normally does his deals outside, in sketchy alleyways or at 3am with an all black attire and his hood up all the way.

You are the only customer who knows where he lives, because he’s fond of you, and you’re also a regular, so you often pop by if you’re feeling like it to have a nose into his endeavours and recent transactions.

‘Joint?’

You turn around at the sound of Chris’ question and watch the way he walks over to his old worn out green couch. ‘Yeah of course’ you respond whilst Chris groans as he bends his knees to sit down, quickly getting to work by bending his torso over the coffee table.

‘Got a weed preference? Gelato? Blue dream?’ He asks politely once again over his shoulder at you, because you’re still standing in his open apartment, breathing in the scent of strong narcotics and relaxant drugs. Taking that as a cue to sit down, you round the couch and plop down next to him whilst he slides out a little foot stool from underneath the couch.

You watch his hands flip up the top of the stool to reaveal a secret boxed compartment inside of it. Humming, you purse your lips in thought whilst he opens the compartment’s lid to reveal a bunch of different weed bags, looking at you with raised eyebrows as he waits for you to make a decision.

‘Umm… surprise me’ you land on finally, shrugging and grinning whilst Chris gives you a playful look and a cool nod. ‘Ooo dangerous girl today are we?’ he sniggers, before humming himself and biting his lip whilst his hand rummages around in between the different baggies to pick one out for you two himself.

‘Hmm, this one!’ He finally says, selecting out a small bag with a really dark green hybrid in it. ‘Yeah? How much do I owe you?’ You mention, before stuffing your hand down the front left pocket of your jeans to fish out a couple of bills.

Chris only smacks his lips and bats your hand that is extending money out to him away. ‘Yo- don’t be stupid, this is my treat’ he scolds as he fishes out the drug and weighs it, before putting it into the grinder and working against the plant root.

His arms flex as he twists the grinder to break up the drug into a fine consistency, all the while frowning at you to put your money away. ‘Ugh Chris, you can’t just keep giving me your supplies for free, that’s not how it works… drugs are fucking pricey bud’ you roll your eyes, before stuffing at least a couple of bills into his sweatpant pocket before he could stop you.

He sighs.

‘Ugh fine… but it’s not like you’re my only customer y’know… trust me I have plenty to pay the bills’ he finishes with a cocky tone, before opening up the grinder and swiftly pouring out the mixture into a line on some rolling paper. You silently watch him in awe as he expertly rolls the joint, before licking the side of it with his tongue and twisting it into place like a professional, all in under a minute. You can tell he’s rolled quite a decent bit judging by how easy it is for him.

‘Balcony?’ He questions, raising his eyebrows and pointing to the screen door that leads out onto his small balcony, two deck chairs sitting side by side. You nod happily, and then follow him outside onto the balcony.

‘So, how’s business?’ You ask whilst comfortably seated in one of the deck chairs, watching Chris tentatively as he perches the joint within his lips and wraps his hand around a lighter. Quickly he flicks it into a spark and lights up the joint before relaxing into his own chair and taking it from his mouth.

‘It’s actually been pretty good lately! Got a lot of new shit I can’t wait to try out…’

As he speaks, the smell of potent weed fills the air and a white plume of smoke trickles out from in between his lips. Holy shit this is strong stuff. But of course it is. This is Chris we’re talking about, and he always saves the best stuff for you.

‘Yeah?’

You respond whilst Chris leans over to pass you the sparked joint from in between his fingers, which you take and inhale yourself. He hums in agreement. The smoke coats your throat all the way down and instantly relaxes you whilst the drug stimulates your brain and melts your limbs further into the chair.

‘Oh… by the way- I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to smoke some sour diesel. This specific strain that I have is supposed to make you feel really horny… so just a little heads up in advance’.

Chris guiltily rambles on with a laughed smirk, his thighs manspread out widely and his fingers clasped together on his stomach whilst he waits to receive the joint back. You clench… did he pick that hybrid to smoke with you on purpose? Or were you just kidding yourself. Because the way he was gazing at you currently made you naturally assume that he had unholy intentions.

‘Oh um… yeah that’s fine. I suppose if we both end up high and horny then that’s just how it’s gotta be’.

You shrug and nod jokingly whilst passing back the joint. ‘Shit, awesome, thanks, I can always count on you’ Chris muses excitedly before slipping the joint back into his mouth. Depending on how he moves, the silver lip ring pierced into his lip glints in the dull sunlight as he opens his mouth yet again to do a French inhale with the smoke blowing up towards his nose. I watch as it then calmly dissipates into the air.

‘Wanna shotgun?’ Chris then pipes up, sweetly offering to second hand smoke with you so that you could use more of the joint and not waste any of the valuable drug. Okay this can’t have been a coincidence, first the sour diesel and now offering to shotgun kiss with you? There’s no fucking way.

Nodding nonchalantly, you try to hide your heart flipping dramatically as best as you can whilst both you and him lean forward. Chris passes you the joint so that you get more of the hit than him, and you feed it into your mouth slowly, concealing your jittering hands by harshly pinching the rolling paper.

Leaning forward more, it all happens so fast as you drop your mouth and start to expel the smoke. It’s not needed, but Chris’ hand sneakily snakes around the back of your neck to keep the both of you close and steady as he recieves the second hand smoke. Both of your lips almost brush one another as Chris holds the smoke in his mouth for a moment before giving a quiet moan mixed with a sigh as he blows it back out into your face.

He then giggles cutely after you scrunch up your nose since you’re not expecting the white cloud to make your eyes water. ‘This is good shit’ you sputter, to keep yourself as distracted as possible from your sweating palms and throbbing nerves. You hate to say it, but you have the biggest crush on your drug dealer.

You know, it’s fucking stupid, but he’s just so hot, who fucking wouldn’t have a crush on him? He’s around your age, is attractive, and has impeccable charisma. It’s harder to not have a crush on him. Sometimes you trick yourself into believing that he only lets you come to his apartment to chat and see all of his stash first because the feelings are mutual.

If only you knew how right you actually were.

‘I know right?’ Chris chuckles back, before his deck chair squeaks underneath his lean, muscular body after he puts the joint back into his mouth and this time knocks his head back. You can’t help but get distracted from your surroundings in favour of looking at his sharp jawline and hollowing cheekbones whilst his neck bends and he expertly blows out a set of three smoke rings into the air above him.

‘How do you do that? It’s so cool!’ You laugh shyly, snuggling down into your sweater because of the chilly breeze that blows by suddenly whilst you cover your mouth with one of your sweater pawed sleeves. Chris gazes over at you with his already sunken eyes, a little half smile curling up one side of his face in proud achievement.

He loves trying to impress you then succeeding.

‘Lots and lots of practice baby cakes, I’ll teach you next time you come around…’

He replies back with one of his plethora of nicknames for you. You could tell straight off of the bat from when you had first met each other that giving people nicknames was sort of his thing, and you thought it was really very sweet.

‘But today…’ he starts, before groaning quietly as he leans back over to you to pass you the joint from his slouched sitting position.

‘We have some good weed to finish off…’

‘I am so fucking high right now’ Chris giggles before snorting, trying to hush his own laughter by slapping his hand against his mouth as his shoulders shake in place.

From the opposite side of his ratty green couch, you lie there simply looking up at the ceiling whilst opening and closing your mouth in stupefied awe.

In the background, the gentle scratch of SZA’s ctrl album hums quietly through the vinyl that he had put on his record player earlier after coming in from smoking on his balcony.

‘How much of that weed did we smoke?’ You slur back to him, tilting your head upwards so that you can look over at his tipped up chin and spread thighs. His back lies cosily tucked up on his side of the pillows as he screws up his eyes and sleepily blinks a couple of times.

‘Is it even fuh-fuckin’ working?’ He mumbles to me whilst shifting his heavy feeling arms to rub his hands all the way down his black sweats tantalisingly. ‘Cause all I feel is slightly sweaty… and a little tingly’.

All of a sudden you’re sweating yourself. But it’s not because his apartment is hot, it’s because you’re looking at him and the way he toys with the drawstrings of his sweats absentmindedly. ‘Which isss, which is pretty fuhckin’ normal conssssidering we’ve just smoked-’ Chris hiccups ‘-a fuck bunch of diesel’. Then he giggles again to himself, as if finding it absolutely hilarious that both of you are probably high out of your minds.

‘Uh- umm… dunno if it’s working for me…’ you lie, before desperately trying to retract your eyes from the way he gently tugs on the drawstrings and rolls them in between his fingers and thumbs.

You just hope that Chris can’t hear the way you shuffle your legs closer so that you can squeeze your thighs together secretly. The last thing you want to attract is attention, clearly in denial of the fact that you certainly feel the drug seeping through your nervous system now.

It’s bad enough that you have a crush on him already, now you think some higher being just wants to punish you for it. Something within you is definitely working, because you feel extra horny…

Chris shifts a little, bucking his lower body up with a meek groan coming from his mouth before you hear his hip bone crack. Then he goes still with a content sigh, clearly enjoying the certain blissfulness the drug provides him with.

He seems a lot less bothered than you about this. But you suppose taking drugs is practically what he does for a living, so he’s used to it.

You continue to stare at the roof, lazily trailing your eyes all the way up the various cracks in the ceiling plaster that have resulted because of damp infrastructure, just trying to keep yourself calm for the moment.

But then he starts up his squirming again a little later, and it’s as if he just can’t get comfortable this time because occasionally his socked feet will subtly nudge your’s or you’ll hear him moaning in relaxation every time he moves.

The drug seems to have this god awful effect on your body that simply makes you ache all over. It feels like your inner thighs have a million pins and needles in them.

You know he’s just trying to get comfortable… but within your lack of vision and your current state of heated wetness you can’t help but transform those softly uttered sounds into something a lot dirtier. How unfair of him to sound so much like a porn star.

Meanwhile, Chris is currently going through every stage of horniness that he thinks he could possibly imagine one would experience.

First the small tingling within his gut starts that signals to his brain that his body wants sex. Next comes the unbearably uncomfortable and itchy state his burning skin goes through, whilst disastrously filthy images travel through his mind and hang there like suspended thoughts.

Thoughts like what you, one of his clients… would look like naked. What your tits would look like, whether or not they are a nice shape or not. If you have smaller and sweeter nipples or if you have ones that he can really wrap his tongue around. Whether you prefer to sit commandingly on top and listen to the guy underneath you or flip it and have it the other way around. Are you into threesomes? Because Chris sure is, and he has a friend he can call on speed dial if you ever were to wish it.

Any thought currently floating within his mind always redirects itself back to you lying opposite him with your closed thighs that he so badly wants to pry open himself. He feels as though he has to check himself now. It’s not much of a surprise when he registers the heavy feeling in his lower gut because he knows it all too well. He’s already sensitive and aching.

He’s hard.

But who wouldn’t be if they were thinking about having sex with one of the prettiest girls Chris had ever known, that also just so happens to be someone he dealt drugs to on the side…

The more you listen in to Chris’ annoyingly erotic sounds, the more the darkly temping thought of just saying fuck it and jumping on top of him edges your already infected mind.

Not looking over at him to check what he is actually doing kills you, and soon you just can’t help yourself but take a quick sneak peek at your drug dealer. You have to stifle a gasp though, because when you look you do not quite expect to see what you do.

Lying down right opposite you is Chris in his original position, with his black sweat-pant clad legs spread outwards and his feet planted to the couch cushions whilst his knees are bent upwards lazily. The grey zip up hoodie that he had slipped on earlier slouches open to put his white t-shirt on show whilst his rosy cheeks appear flushed and his face screws itself up in pleasure.

You practically gawk at the way he has his whole entire hand shoved down the expanse of his front waistband.

His pierced lip ring catches in between the bite of his teeth whilst his eyes lie squeezed shut and his legs spread unconsciously further the more his hips buck whilst he fucks his hand.

The hand tucked beneath his sweats, you notice, bulges slowly as he pants through his bitten lip and releases a gut-wrenchingly horny moan with his back arching and his chin tipping unbearably further up into the couch armrest.

The drug clearly seems to be in full swing now, because with every corner your mind turns, the dead end spells out ‘sex’. It seems to be all your body wants in this very moment. You don’t even think you can get up from the couch no matter how hard you try, because Chris is simply right here, wet and ready just for you.

There seems to be no sense of urgency around Chris to get rid of his seemingly prominent boner, in fact, you’ll bet he’s just leisurely strolling his way through the feelings of ecstasy.

‘Chris what are you doing?’ You decide to stupidly bumble in a small voice to catch his attention, but Chris doesn’t seem to care all that much that he’s openly thrusting up into his hand in front of you.

‘Sorry I- I couldn’t help how sensitive I was…’ he finally whines into the air apologetically before his breath hitches and he almost cries out a gulp of air after you see a finger - seemingly his thumb - move up from behind the fabric to rub his tip in slow, circular motions.

He almost begins to shiver whilst his head hopelessly twists from side to side, just to give him some form of distraction from the stimulation he feels.

Never before in your life have you seen a man so sensitive because of his cock before.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to crunch up to a sitting position, your eyes trained on a babyish looking Chris that lies almost in a crumpled heap with his forehead sweating and his pupils blown drastically in size.

He pants and looks directly at you whilst jerking off, making your stomach flip again as he gazes at your body with hungry eyes.

Dripping. You’re actually dripping for him.

Never before in your life have you felt more like a piece of meat that a lion is simply salivating to get his teeth on.

His eyes keep a hold of you for the whole entire time it takes your body to crawl up to his. As you reach him, your own brain begins to fuzz, and you sort of forget where the fuck you are. You loose touch with reality.

Must have been the drug.

All you know is that Chris is here, clearly as horny as you, and in need of your help.

‘Shhhh… shhh… don’t cry baby’ you gently whisper yet another slur to him through your state of heavy intoxication coated with the rings of compulsory sexual desire. God, you had no idea that the diesel increased people’s libidos either, because regularly you’d never have the guts to utter something like that to someone you liked, especially Chris.

Chris slowly stops and he gulps after you drag one of your fingers down his lips, only to tug on his pierced one so that you can watch it recoil back up into its original resting place. Quickly he feeds about half of the lip back into the bite of his teeth whilst gazing up at you with glassy doe-eyed pupils.

‘What’s gotten you so worked up baby boy?’ You coo to him yet again, before smoothing your hands down his waist and his hipbones, which causes him to gently shiver and whine into the back of his throat. He swallows and tries to speak. But he can’t, because instead he has to squeeze his eyes shut and careen his body forward in pleasure after he tightens his hand just that little bit more around his hot, stiffened skin.

The feeling is unmatched and spit almost comes freely tumbling out from his open mouth due to gravity. His shoulders heave, and you pet his hair gently whilst sitting on your haunches and pressing one of your heels up into your heat to suppress your unbearable wetness. You pout before clearing the floppy hair from out of his eyes and asking him if you can get rid of his pants because ‘it must be awfully tough to move around in them hey?’.

So you gently slide them down his haired thighs after he struggles a ‘please… fucking please- I can barely take it anymore’, before also deciding to hook your fingers into his boxers to take them off too.

He is thicker than he is longer, but still has decent size. He’s also obviously damp and sticky from where his hand has been holding him because his pretty-looking cock glimmered slightly in the white light protruding from his ceiling fan. Pre-come readily drips out from the top of his aching prick, and leaks its way down the rest of his shaft.

Chris only looks up at you with a sloppy smirk, before reaching out one of his hands to squish them against your cheeks and guide your eyes to look up at his own.

‘Stop your drooling doll face and eyes up here… just you wait ma, as soon as you get your mouth on me I am going to be moaning your name for weeks after this one…’

You feel like almost fainting on the spot as your head aches and your core throbs with damp heat. You feel like you can’t even speak anymore, because all of your words have been sucked from your mouth. Sitting in between his spread thighs, his back props itself up against the arm of the couch whilst you can’t help but look down at his once again.

‘You wouldn’t believe how sensitive I get… and I fucking love it, I could be squealing the whole entire apartment block down and I still wouldn’t give a shit because of how fucking good it feels’. Chris rasps from his position below you, still hot and still sweaty from the affect of the drug but 100% ready to get his hands all over you.

Both of your hands are layered on each of his thighs and without warning, you squeeze them. This makes him hiss slightly in stimulated pain, but it also gives him pleasure because he smirks through it all. ‘Go on… put your tongue on me… I know you want to…’ he taunts in a low whisper, like Adam tempting Eve with an apple and playing with her biggest weaknesses.

Your heart beats down at your clit easily through the influence of the drug, and you don’t hesitate, not after Chris mumbles ‘I know you like it… and I know you wanna know what it feels like when I hit the back of your throat’.

Your mouth waters at the huskiness of his whisper and you swallow, looking up at Chris with devilishly hooded eyes that Aphrodite gifts you, especially for a task like this.

‘I dare you…’

You don’t give him much time to say anything else, because you’re eagerly spitting a thick string of saliva right onto his cock instead. You watch as it slips all the way down the base of his thickness slowly whilst you hear Chris pant deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his eyelashes feathering dreamily at the sensation of your spit mingling with his pre-come.

His large hands grab onto any part of the couch they can find and hold onto it for dear life after he stutters a whiny little ‘Oh- oh god…’ with his breath hitching and his stomach convulsing under the sensation of your tongue. You sit on your knees properly, your hands caressing his thighs as you drop your head right down so that you can nuzzle against his throbbing nerve.

As you get closer you spy a thick blue vein on the underside of his dick and try to remember where it is for later stimulation. But for now you simply look up at him with your own little smirk decorating your face whilst he gazes down at you, looking helpless and needy. Puckering your lips, you decide to tease him a little by placing pathetic, minuscule kisses up on his wet tip, before nudging it with your nose. Chris whines a little in annoyance at this with his back arching babyishly as though he’s about to throw a temper tantrum.

‘What a pretty little boy’ you muse generously, before whispering ‘you’d hit my g-spot easily baby…’ up to him, which has his hips bucking uncontrollably into the air. Although, one of your hands comes down to slap his thigh at this.

‘Hey! Don’t be naughty now… you’ll get my tongue in a minute… let me have a look at you first’ you scold him harshly, now holding down both of his hips before you peek out your tongue to give him a short kitten lick. You can tell he wants to thrust up into your mouth so badly based off of the resistance your hands face, however, you don’t let him just yet.

‘You let me have my fun, and then you can have your fun, Chris’ you bark at him which seems to put his filthy mouth in place.

Leaning back up again on your haunches, you now decide to spit into your hand and wrap it around his pulsating cock. You can tell Chris isn’t expecting this due to the way he cries out into the air slightly before you start to slowly stroke him. You feel some form of heart beat throbbing underneath his thickness whilst your hand works against him. You make your hand tight and slow to allow him enough sensual pleasure whilst not going too fast so that you can also savour the moment.

Whilst keeping your hand going, you manage to get onto your hands and knees so that you can lean up closer to his face and really look at how he squirms about helplessly below you.

‘Gotta get you ready for my mouth, don’t I?’ You innocently speak down to him, but Chris only tips his head back in return to hit it against the armrest and squeeze his eyes shut. His panting breaths are raggedy and laboured whilst he tries to focus on his breathing above all else, but he can’t help but feel slightly tortured under the influence of your palm.

‘Fuck- fucking lick me… please gorgeous… I- I need you so bad’ his voice reduces to pathetic begs as he finds the time to now viciously twist your shirt in between his knuckles and yank at it like a pouty child. You roll your eyes and tighten your hand, mumbling a quick ‘needy boy aren’t you?’ Before finally giving in to his agonising cries.

You lower yourself back down with Chris putting a somewhat happy smile onto his face through the pained pleasure after getting you to crack and give him what he wants.

This time, you don’t beat around the bush. If Chris wants it he can fucking have it for all you care. Letting go of his cock, you substitute your hand for your tongue and lick a bold stripe all the way from the base to the tip.

‘Jesus Christ…’ he whines in overstimulation, only the torture doesn’t stop there, because he has to repeat himself louder when you quickly slide his tip into you mouth, briefly lollipopping it and coating it with more of your saliva before you slide it back out with a wet ‘pop’.

‘Ugh… more… please- please give me more!’ Chris moans impatiently, whining like a fucking spoilt brat as he finally makes a decision to tangle his hands within your hair and keep them there so that he can pull on your strands whenever he feels like it. His cheeks are a furious red, and even his brow is sweating whilst he looks down towards your kneeling figure.

You roll your eyes with a glare, and he shies away at this, averting his eyes so that you won’t shout at him or slap his thigh again.

Going back to your work, your tongue playfully slips out once so that you can roll it over his tip. This seems to give Chris a wild rush of euphoria because of the way he’s cursing and groaning.

Jesus… he wasn’t kidding when he said he liked to squeal his whole apartment block down.

You smirk.

But your eyes also water because of how harshly Chris is clawing at your hair.

So you decide to give him a fright and deep throat him.

It works, because as soon as you slide him down your throat he moans into the air once again, his back arching and his hips instinctively bucking up, which makes saliva drip from out of your mouth and down the rest of his glistening cock after you gag slightly.

As Chris’ thickness stretches out your mouth you do indeed feel the tip of his cock rub against the back of your throat when you start to bob your head.

Chris - clearly - has no problem with helping at all and decides to use his grip on your hair to greedily push your head at his own pace, which - you’re not going to lie - is extremely hot, but also pisses you off.

‘Fuck you’re so good at this’ he mumbles within a daze of erotic edging, his orgasm easily bubbling along the lining of his gut from how well you’re sucking him, but you don’t quite let him cum just yet because you want to try something…

Slipping him back out of your mouth, you grab a hold of his utterly soaked cock before jerking him slowly once again, this time pressing your thumb right into the bulge of his vein, which makes his eyes flutter and roll into the back of his head.

‘I want you to fuck my mouth baby…’

You breathe lustfully, staring at him with sparkling eyes as your core squeezes in excitement.

‘I want you to absolutely choke me…’

You beg to him once again, which catches Chris’ attention.

He’s greedy for his orgasm, and so complies immediately with a panting smirk.

‘…Get back down there then’ he muses cheekily, his straightened teeth on show before he forces your head down there himself. Your nose nudges against his pulsing cock for one last time before you slide him back into your mouth and this time, let him do the work.

His chest and stomach rise and fall rapidly whilst he manoeuvres one of his hands to now grip the centre of your hair whilst his other one finds its way to the couch cushion so that he can prop himself up.

Slowly, he barely gives you any time to adjust before he is fucking his hips upwards, pushing himself further down your throat every time he pulls away and comes back again. You gag once more, but don’t put up much of a fight because you instead love to hear his groans of sheer effort that turn into something carnally primal the more he does it.

Suddenly he gets louder, and you actually feel him twitch within your mouth, hinting to you that his orgasm is coming thick and fast.

‘I’m- I’m gonna c-cum’ he incoherently whines with his neck thrown back once again as it struggles to bring his voice up into the air.

Tears roll down your cheeks, but you ignore them in favour of allowing Chris to finish into your mouth. Sliding his cock up towards the opening of your lips slightly, it gives you enough room to wrap your hand around the base of his prick so that you can help him cum. Whilst he does, you continuously stroke him as he cries and white knuckles the couch cushion seat. His cum spurts out in hot, thick ropes and drips all down your throat.

After you let Chris go, you make him watch you swallow all of what he gave you.

He slouches onto the sofa with exhaustion, breathing heavily with his shoulders rising and falling dramatically.

Both of you are silent for a second, panting and looking at one another as if your brains are deciding to voice aloud what they’re both thinking.

Chris makes the first move.

‘Umm… are you- are you still as horny as me? Even after… that?’. His voice is timid, as if testing the waters between a make or break point. However, you still feel an absolute wave of arousal batter against your clit, and so nod in confusion.

Chris only laughs in disbelief whilst rubbing his forehead.

‘Shit that is strong stuff…’

Author’s notes p.2: wow. Well umm… that was long. I always get WAY too carried away with my writing lmaoo. Can someone please tell me why I literally made a fucking Spotify playlist dedicated to exactly this piece of writing?? (Who wants on it? 😏). Also, I took the liberty of giving Chris a labret lip piercing in this one because HOT, and idk, I just think it suited his vibe- but yes, obvi he doesn’t have one irl so everyone can just pretend 🙄. This piece of writing is dedicated to @ellie-luvsfics bc she’s ‘a slut for drug dealer Chris’. And @strniohoeee bc she’s my bbg <3 hope people enjoyed, and as always send any requests and whatnot!!!

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolos

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yanderemommabean · 2 months

Note

Can we get some yandere Geto going down on a transmasc reader? Pretty please 🙏

((Hi I hope this is ok! Im not too confident but here goes nothing!))

You were so sensitive, head pressing back against the pillow, thighs shaking against your will as you were put on full display. Sugurus calloused fingers made you feel a fluttering pressure as you closed your eyes and try to process anything this gorgeous psycho was saying.

“You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you, yet you refuse to let me service you the way you deserve. Tsk tsk tsk” Geto clicks his tongue in disapproval, dragging his fingers up and down your folds as he wears a rather lascivious smile. “My good boy deserves praise, worship, to be given nothing but devotion, yet you starve us of that. You know I can’t let this continue, don’t you?”

His voice dropped an octave, deep and angered “You’re slutty hole is quivering for me already. Aching and wanting. Why? Why deny yourself the pleasure we want to give you? It’s angering to think that you’ve been starved of my touch, -my love- for so long”

He flicks at your sensitive bud, groaning as he listens to you gasp and struggle to make a sentence. A small bubble of pleasure was forming in his stomach as he drags his thumb up and down your dewy folds, your cute dick begging to be sucked and toyed with as he made you who you were meant to be-

His and his alone. His to toy with and take apart and to put back together.

You whimper, barely able to form words as he cruelly begins to flick at your cock again, more wetness dripping from you as Geto presses his face into your wiry hairs and inhales, deep and guttural. Oh how dare you keep this from him? You’ll have to be properly punished once the blood flow is back into his brain and not currently making his cock a precum drooling mess.

“W-wait no! I-I’m sorry!” You managed to garble out, but it wasn’t really any use, was it? You know Geto is a powerful man, he takes what he wants no questions asked. If he wants to toy with you…

Your body goes taught, his tongue dragging up your skin and swirling around your cock before giving it a gentle suck, making your hips raise and your voice strained. Oh holy fuck his mouth is dangerous-

He indulges himself, tongue tracing up and down all of your folds as he watches your cock twitch and beg for attention, sliding his wet muscle inside of you as his fingers stroke you up and down, methodical and precise, as if he knew exactly how you liked it.

Which he should. He’s had his eyes on you for a while. He’s seen you in more ways than you could ever be aware, and he’s been driven nuts by every denial you give to his proposals and offers.

Well, no more. Geto will have you worshiped and praised, even if he has to chain you down and let the people…have a taste themselves. And who could blame him? How you felt on his tongue, your flavor, a godly nectar he couldn’t get enough of, oh he’s going to drink his fill and then some!

You practically howled, feeling Geto hold your thighs down to get his tongue in deeper, face pressed as close as it could get as his fingers continue to stroke you, hungry and starved like he couldn't get enough.

You go to try and bite your sleeve to silence yourself, but a harsh bite to your thigh stops you in your tracks, Getos eyes furious and feral as he catches his breath. “If you hide your heavenly melodies from me, I can assure you, you’re going to regret it. Be louder for me. Let me hear you cry as you fall apart”.

You swallow, eyes watery as Geto continues to lap away at your cock, fingers now curling inside of you and fluttering to hit that specific ridge, causing you to yelp and tense your legs.

You were helpless, riding the man's face and fingers desperately, unable to push away the instinct to cum, to cover his face in your mess and give the man what he wants. Fruitlessly you yank at his hair, his lips coming to suck on your cock as his fingers crook just right, causing your vision to turn white and your knuckles to clench in his hair.

The explosion of pleasure has you panting and gasping, words failing to leave your lips as Geto slurps, sucks, and curls his fingers again and again, brutally like he’s punishing you. And in a way, he was. You have turned down every kind offer He’s given you to join his “group”. To be one of the enlightened. No more. He’ll have you with him, and he’s going to ravish you until you simply can’t leave.

It’s hard to walk when one's legs can’t work, after all. And you’re so sensitive, it should be fun watching you come apart again and again, until you’re crying those pretty tears and can’t push him (or his love) away anymore.

“Fuck fuck FUCK- “ you cry, that cord in your core finally snapping after a few more rough sucks, his fingers not stopping as you rock against his face and go still, shaking and gasping as the pleasure shoots through you and your eyes can’t help but roll back.

Oh what a sight to behold. You, sweat covered and disheveled, panting and hiccuping little pleas as Geto continues to toy with you. You aren’t being fair here you know? Being this precious is dangerous with a man like him.

You wince, a pitiful noise being made as Geto kisses up your stomach, but only moves to hold your legs open again, making sure he left another bite to your other thigh as he feels you quiver and tremble beneath him. “Atta boy. See? That wasn’t so bad now was it?” he asks, his skilled fingers coming to rub up and down your still twitching cock. “Now keep behaving. We have a long night ahead of us, I’d rather it be easy on you”

-Mommabean (I hope you like!)

#transmasc reader #Yandere geto #yandere jjk #yandere dubcon #yandere noncon #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere smut #yandere lemons #yandere x reader #yandere prompts #Yandere cult #if you squint

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urhoneycombwitch · 3 months

Text

shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him.

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look.

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #weed mention #tw weed

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moralesmilesanhour · 9 months

Text

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) epilogue

summary: they ass is NOT doing homework 🤣

wc: 1k+

A/N: That's a wrap, guys! tysm for reading and enjoying!

prev 'if you believe in me'

“Miles, what is this emo shit you got me listening to?” you laughed.

Miles was currently in the middle of an imaginary drumming solo next to you, with two mechanical pencils as drumsticks. Once the final cymbal crashed, he turned to you to respond.

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s emo, that beat goes crazy. You done with your conclusion yet?”

You rolled your eyes.

“No, but I’ve got all my body paragraphs together.”

“That shit is due Monday,” the boy adjusted his glasses, “Mr. Padilla don’t do extensions.”

Shutting your laptop in protest, you got up and stretched your arms. “Can we take, like, a ten-minute break?”

Miles smirked. “The last half hour felt like a ‘break’, but sure.”

The smirk fell from his face when he noticed you staring at something on his desk.

“Aye, don’t touch nothing–”

“Is this me?”

Too late.

Miles’ notebook was already in your hands, flipped to a page full of sketches of your face. There were little lines scratched out next to each sketch, as if he were measuring the proportions of your eyes, nose, ears...

His lines were sharp and geometrical, as always, but they softened at your hair and lips. Speaking of lips, there was an oddly-detailed sketch of them off to the side. He’d even managed to include the suggestion of gloss.

You looked up to see Miles standing in front of you with his arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“You done invading my privacy yet?”

“Nope,” you placed a finger on the page. “How long did you need to stare at my face for this?”

You held back a laugh when he tensed visibly.

“Not long enough for it to matter,” he deadpanned, finally snatching the notebook out of your hand. “It was just a study.”

“Oh, so you’ve been ‘studying’ my lips? Got it.”

Miles’ eyes flickered down at them as you spoke before he returned to his spot on the bed. “Whatever. Break’s over.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” you teased as you followed him, “the drawings are nice! You made me look prettier.”

The boy looked at you like he wanted to say something - to argue - but he remained silent. You elbowed him playfully in the side.

“What, you think I’m ugly, then? I’m telling you, Morales, one day we gon’ fight–”

“No,” he interrupted.

“Complete sentences, please,” you mimicked, laughing when the boy sucked his teeth in response.

“Fine. No, you’re not ugly, and I like drawing you. Can we move on?”

With a triumphant smile, you finally cracked open your laptop again. “Yes, yes we can. I need your genius powers to proofread this for me.”

Miles leaned in to get a good look at your screen, hitting you with the crisp scent of sports deodorant and some generic brand of lotion. You watched his eyes dart back and forth as he read your work out loud to himself in a low mutter. While he read, your gaze drifted away from the screen and landed on his side profile. His ears were now delightfully occupied by tiny gold studs that you would’ve missed at a farther distance. Past his jawline at the nape of his neck, a thin gold chain peeked out at you from beneath his black graphic tee.

Your eyes met Miles’ the moment you brought them back up to his face, amusement playing on his features.

“Yo, are you good? There something on my shirt?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “Go back to reading.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m done. I just said you need to switch these two body paragraphs so they flow better.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he laughed, dimples on display. “I’m scared I’mma get my face stolen one day. Do you stare at everybody like that?”

A beat of silence passed as you considered whether to say something bold a second time, if not just for a reaction.

“...Nah, it’s just you.”

Miles blinked, the smile dropping from his face. “Huh?”

“You’re nice to look at, and I can’t draw you in my notebook to make it last longer,” you tilted your head comically. “Staring will have to do.”

Like clockwork, the boy’s hand shot up to his ear to toy with his piercing. He glanced out of the window.

“The sun’s setting, you should really get that essay done,” he blurted out before narrowing his eyes at you. “What’s so funny?”

You had a hand over your mouth to stifle the laughter. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, “it’s funny when you’re nervous.”

Miles scoffed.

“I’m not nervous.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you sang, beginning to type your conclusion paragraph.

There was no response.

Your typing slowed as the silence grew long, feeling Miles’ eyes on you until you finally stopped to look at him quizzically.

“Yes?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Can’t say that I do.”

He leaned in closer until your noses were in danger of brushing each other, looking determined despite the rapid rise and fall of his chest. You met his gaze with a challenge.

“Well? You just gon’ sit there?”

Miles couldn’t hear anything above the heartbeat pounding in his ears, his eyes squeezed shut as he closed the distance between you.

No one told him that kissing would feel this weird.

For one, your lip gloss wasn’t half as sticky as he’d anticipated it to be, tasting like artificial fruit flavoring. Your sweaty palm came up to rest on the side of his face and kept him anchored as his breath stuttered. Having no idea where he would put his hands (another thing no one had explained to him), he kept them flat on the mattress for support as you deepened the kiss and he leaned back.

Your hand was gripping his chin now to guide his face. Having kissed at least two other boys before, you had a vague idea of where it was supposed to go. Unlike the other two, Miles was tense, almost unmoving, despite being the initiator.

Miles’ head buzzed when you pulled away, chuckling softly.

What the hell was so funny? The boy felt white hot blood rapidly coursing through all of the veins in his body at once. He thought he might start floating, like a hot air balloon. Or explode. Or vomit. Preferably the first one.

“Are you okay?” you asked, dropping your hand. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

He blinked slowly, three times. “Yeah, I’m…fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. That was, um…”

Hand on the neck. “Interesting.”

“A good interesting, I hope,” you laughed.

Miles tilted his head, a small grin spreading across his lips.

“I don’t think I’d mind doing that again.”

Handing the boy your phone, you said, “I think you’d need my number for that.”

#miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x black!reader #moralesanhour

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mizusnose · 2 months

Text

With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean

established mizu x fem!reader valentine’s day NSFW :)

———

It was constant, the way that Mizu kept looking at you throughout the night. A pull of gravity that mimicked the tide at night, the waves insistent, gentle once the dawn had broken and morning fell over the earth. The glimmer of Mizu’s chain caught the hotel lights. Only one was on, a lamp in the corner of the room atop a desk.

The singular light cast shadows over Mizu’s gaze. It had changed throughout the elevator ride up. Had shifted from intrigue, to a glare, to a hard line of blue against her dark pupils: exploded and nearly blocking the color of her iris.

Now, she looked at you as if she was hungry. Ready to unhinge her jaw and eat you whole. A look meant only for you and her: the darkness swimming between them the only witness, one that would be gone by morning.

And yet, you smiled. Grinned, even. A little giddy about it all: having Mizu this way, unearthed, ungrounded, a bit feral. Somewhere along the way back to the hotel, Mizu had gripped your jaw, kissed you mean and then soft, then mean again before pulling away and leaving you breathless. Now the only sign it had happened was the wipe of lipstick against the edges of her mouth. A dark stain that bloomed like a bruise, one she had taken herself, one she had given heartily.

“Get naked.” Mizu’s voice was soft, yet the deep timbre of it shook something in you. Unlodged the deep of your gut, sent it rumbling down into your belly, deeper, deeper still.

“Kiss me first.” You demand. You’re willing to be mean too, tonight. A touch of arrogance, of unwillingness, and Mizu would cave. Would become an unrockable force above you. Have you an unraveled mess and continue on and on and on.

Mizu, a bit surprised, complies regardless. She cradles your chin, the sharp of jaw that she had gripped earlier in the heat of a kiss. It aches still, and she kisses it tender and bites on your earlobe before kissing down to your mouth, the heat of it.

Mizu has always been an eager kisser. Always wanted more when she wasn’t given enough. She’d always joked that it was because she was greedy for all of you. Wanted every bit, every part, every crook and angle and depth. So, she took your mouth with an insistence that you hadn’t felt in a while. One that had you whimpering and closing your legs, rubbing your knees together.

The hot heat of her tongue swept into your mouth. A gentle licking that alternated between an anger and heat that was Mizu to her core, and a softer side that good managed to coax out throughout your relationship.

Her hands worked your clothes off quickly. Left them a pile on the floor tucked against the edge of the bed that she eventually laid you down on. An image to be made: you, bare and naked against the white of sheets, and Mizu, fully-clothed and panting against you.

“Need..more.”

“Shh.”

Mizu’s always had big hands. A large plane of palm and lines and calluses. So her fingers against your ribs, your shoulders, your breasts, felt familiar yet, the meaning and intent behind them swallowed you whole.

To be loved, to be had, to be cared for. It was bleeding into every touch Mizu gave. A caretaker of her love, a gentle poem of care, of something more.

Mizu had asked earlier that day: It’s okay for me to leave marks, right? You have like, makeup and stuff?

And you’d nodded, shy and blushing. Now, you wonder why you didn’t lie.

Mizu was on you in an instant, her fingers slowly making their way down the dips and valleys of your body, your hips, your thighs. And, as if to distract you through it, she was mauling your neck, nipping and biting and pulling skin.

You grabbed her hair, wrapping it in your fist and pulling. You didn’t realize you’d been moaning before Mizu looked up and smirked, ever the arrogant one between you two.

By the time she had taken what she needed to be satiated, Mizu’s shirt was abandoned, the lines of her chest and tummy on full display above you. Her strap was still nowhere to be seen, and the shadows of her face flickered as she kissed her way down to your inner thigh.

“Mizu..”

“It’s okay. Let me take care of you.”

she wrapped her fingers around your hip, just touching the edges of your clenched fist. The image she made below you made your head spin. Her hair, flowing and dark against her skin, her breasts brushing your thighs, and the flicker of her eyelashes as she slowly closed her mouth around your clit.

“Hah, fuck.”

“Mmm..”

Your hips bucked at the vibration, your labia spreading itself around Mizu’s tongue on the way back down.

“Mizu!”

Despite your outcry, Mizu continued, opening her mouth wider and licking into you, the very root of yourself. Her left hand had been caressing your belly, your hip, the soft bend of your waist. Now though, it drifted below her lip, teasing the entrance of your pussy, rubbing, encircling, pressing in.

Mizu pulled away to blow cold air on your clit, held you down as she let her tongue hang out, not touching you, just looking up and holding eye contact.

“Gonna be a good girl and take it?”

Her voice, you think, flushed and panting. You nod and bit your lip, wanting her tongue back on you.

“Use your words darling.”

“Fuck. Yes. Please, fuck, I’m—“

And before you’d had the chance to finish your sentence, Mizu connected her mouth back to your cunt, sucking and matching the tentative thrusts of her fingers into you.

It was slowly becoming apparent that you were close. Muscles pulled taught and jaw working around the wrist your shoved into your mouth to quiet your whimpers at Mizu’s fingers. So, when the thrusts got quicker, slowly and slowly before you could hear just how wet you’d gotten, Mizu had pulled away again and growled, low and demanding: “Don’t you fucking dare.”

But you’d yelped around the wave of sudden pleasure already and instead of being kissed back down to sanity like usual, Mizu shoved you around, face into the pillows, dragging your hips up.

“M-mizu, ah, mizu—!”

“Fucking brat.” She seethed, giving you one long second of silence and nothingness before her palm connected with the meat of your ass.

The smack threw you forward, if only from the surprise and quickness that Mizu had used to spanked you. You flopped forward, hurt only on your pride as Mizu chuckled darkly behind you.

“Need to learn how to fucking listen. You wanna come again baby?”

You nod despite your current position. The heat of the spank had slowly bled into your belly, filling it up before it leaked into your gut. A pull that felt like a weight only Mizu could rid you of, so you nodded frantically once more.

“Then I’m gonna eat you out and you’re going to take it.”

Mizu lifted your hips, an easy feat considering how exhausted you felt. Then, without much finesse except in spreading you and humming out a: pretty, she devoured you.

The yell that burst from your chest had you pulling away if only for a second. The wet of Mizu’s mouth as she cursed and then went back in had you moaning. Your hands gripped the pillow under you, shoving it into your face as Mizu continued to eat like she was starving. Her tongue an searing wet heat that was slowly accompanied by her long finger.

The motion she made with her middle and ring finger made a wet squelching noise that Mizu groaned around, sending your into another fit of rutting and whimpering into the pillow.

Somewhere along the ascent from pleasure into nearly coming, your drool had stained the pillow. A dampness that mimicked your cunt, the same one Mizu slurped at, her fingers at three now that she had you propped up and open and ready.

“Soaking wet…just for me, baby?” Mizu gruffed, biting into the meat of your flesh, the mark red and angry.

You were close, you could feel it. So when you didn’t answer Mizu, and her palm came back down, you screamed, coming and coming and coming.

“C-can’t, can’t—“

Mizu stretched you on her fingers as you came. A sensation that mimicked the feel of her strap when she made you ride her. You didn’t realize you’d been crying until Mizu finally turned you over and inspected you.

Marked, bitten up, and crying, Mizu cooed down at you: almost like she felt bad about it all, the pleasure she’d given you so openly, so fiercely.

So when she got you cleaned up and into the bath stop her, you could finally start to feel the embarrassment creep up your neck at your incessant moans and crying.

“It was hot. ‘ts okay.”

And she kissed you softly, a barely there kiss because you were both swollen. Regardless, you could feel the love Mizu held in her touches as she cleaned you up, dried your hair, and tucked you in, firmly next to her.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

——-

totally not writing this from my own fantasies ☺️

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x fem!reader #headcanons #fanfiction

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