#slight dubcon

[violettaskies]

To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 1)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: this will have a three installments // this chapter is just the intro honestly lol so sorry if it’s boring build up // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader goes to confession and her priest is a little mean with his words (at the beginning), slight manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink // masturbation //please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter two // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

Every other Sunday was for confession. While other members of the family went on Wednesdays or Saturdays, you always chose Sundays since it would start the week off on a clean slate.

Not that there was much to confess about. Oftentimes, you would walk from your house to the church a few hours after mass ended, maybe feeling a bit guilty about your thoughts, rarely was it ever your actions. One day, you came in to tell the priest about how angry you got at your parents when they grounded you for accidentally falling asleep in church. You didn’t lash out at them, of course; but, you did curse them in your head — not honouring thy father and mother very well.

Then there was an instance three years ago at the homecoming dance. One girl had on the most beautiful baby blue dress you had ever seen, while you were stuck with a hand-me-down gown of the same colour. You prayed aloud that night in front of your bed, that you would one day have the opportunity to wear a dress as nice as hers. But the prayer backfired when your mother overheard, then told you to march to the church the following morning to confess how you broke the tenth commandment of coveting thy neighbour’s goods.

As a whole, you thought there were never any major moments in your life where you sinned gravely. That was until you went to your friend’s house for Bible study on Saturday night. She hosted it weekly, and invited all the kids from school. Needless to say, only a handful of people appeared. Not that it wasn’t fun, the six of you would always spend a few hours going over passages, and then eat a nice dinner afterwards. Truly, you looked forward to it since there weren’t other things you were invited to in town.

So when this past Saturday rolled around where the first epistle to the Corinthians was read, specifically the sixth chapter and eighteenth verse — your group started to analyze it as normal. But, little did you know that this was the day your heart would drop the hardest it ever has.

‘The sexually immoral person sins against their own body,’ the people in the room repeated the verse over and over, like a chant taunting you and your actions.

It was the first time you walked into the confessional on a Sunday afternoon with shaky legs and an intensely beating heart. You told the priest what you told your friend, trying to rid yourself of the sins you unknowingly committed. But he stopped you, his voice only getting louder as he gave you guidance on your next steps. ‘Stop doing that,’ he said, ‘God may not be so quick to forgive you if you give into the Devil’s temptations so often.’ Then after he assigned you a penance of five Hail Marys and going through the rosary twice, you were gone.

All you could think as you took your first steps outside, were words that should never cross your mind. Not now, not ever.

If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?

-:-:-:-:-

As the day ended, and a new week of school began — your guilt never went away. Teasing you from the back of your subconscious as you walked home, ate dinner, and failed at doing some homework that was due a few days later.

It had been three days since the last time you unknowingly sinned, two days since you found out what it was, and one day since the priest’s voice scared you to the point of no return. Everything affected you gravely, that even once you walked into school Monday morning, the noises from the other students became a muffled and chaotic mess in your ears. So much so, that as you were shakily getting things out of your locker, you didn’t even notice movement from the one next to yours.

“You look stressed, sweetheart.” The voice startled you, only amplifying your inner-guilt, since you spent the past few moments focusing on shutting the voices up in your head, rather than greeting your favourite locker neighbour.

But what made you feel guiltiest of all, was that he is the one who inspired these sins of yours.

The throbbing ache between your legs felt good, and the way your pillow helped relieve that ache felt even better. If you were able to feel this level of delight every night, then why not think of someone who made you feel the same way? — the question plagued your mind nightly, during the moments you were oblivious to committing a sin.

Little did you know that it was truly sexual in meaning.

There was only one person who made you feel equally as amazing with their words and actions. Your locker neighbour to the right, Eddie Munson.

Several moments replayed in your head. Like the time he kept calling you ‘pretty girl’ because you decided to wear a skirt on the first day of Spring. Then, you remember how his calloused fingers felt when they were so close to your face after he brushed your hair from your neck; making sure to linger on your sensitive skin before mentioning how beautiful the silver crucifix looked on you. There were so many times after that too. From his deep voice whispering in your ear to ask if you needed a ride home while you both were in study hall; to his arms wrapping a sweater around your shoulders during lunch when the school’s heater broke. The Hawkins townspeople claimed him as a spawn of the Devil, but you named him as the only true friend you had. The only person to make the butterflies in your stomach tingle every time he spoke to you.

“I-I’m not, it’s just I can see now why Mondays aren’t people’s favourite,” you responded, still staring into the vastness of your locker. Thinking about how your start to the week wasn't so great as it usually is.

Eddie had opened the metal door completely, removing the barrier between the two of you. “But, Mondays are always your favourite because you get to see me after a painstakingly long forty-eight hours,” he pouted while trying to get you to giggle at his dramatics.

It worked.

“Well, I normally see you around the fourth period. This is the earliest you’ve been at school for a while.”

“Mondays are the worst because my homeroom teacher loves putting tests at the buttcrack of dawn,” Eddie groaned, while holding up the notes you loaned him at the beginning of the year since you already took the biology course before.

“Well, good luck, I’m gonna go—” no matter how much you loved talking to him, and how warm he made you feel, Eddie was part of your current predicament. So seeing him now made your heart ache in the worst way.

As you went to grab the locker door to close it, Eddie lightly grabbed your wrist. “I saw you leaving the church yesterday. You looked so,” he paused, moving his head downwards to meet you at eye-level, before continuing. “Sad, you looked so sad. I even called out your name a few times so I could give you a ride home, but you kept walking, so I assumed you didn’t hear me.”

So it was the Devil’s spawn shouting your name as you made your way home; not the Devil himself making you feel guilty for your actions. It was just your friend who wanted to look out for you.

Eddie continued: “or maybe you’re ignoring me,” he pouted with feign-sadness.

“Oh, uh-uhm it was just a really tiring day and I guess the voices in my head were too loud,” it was only partially a lie.

“If something’s bothering you—”

“Nothing’s bothering me, honestly,” this one was a lie, and it came out a bit too easily. But all you could focus on now was the feeling of Eddie’s thumb stroking small circles on the soft skin of your wrist.

He looked you up and down suspiciously before saying, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I do.”

“So whatever is going through your mind, let me know. Who am I to judge anyways?” He winked before letting go of your wrist.

You nodded, seriously contemplating if you wanted to have a confessional with your little Devil. Just as you stared at him with eyes full of conflict, the bell rang. Instead of responding, you softly said your farewell. “Anyways, see you later during fourth period, if you decide to come again.”

It was the only class Eddie had a perfect attendance score in, but he would never let you know that you’re the reason why.

-:-:-:-:-

By the time English class rolled along, you didn’t realize just how much your body was moving itself robotically. Going through the movements you’ve been so used to doing for the years you’ve been in high school. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, thankfully. First period was a calculus lesson, history happened afterwards with a lecture on the French Revolution, then a substitute showed up for geography during third period so that was a boring class. All throughout those hours, you kept quiet; because the wrath of the Angel on your shoulder, condemning you for your sins, was becoming far too much. To even think about answering questions the teachers asked was mentally exhausting.

It all came to a peak once you sat on your chair for fourth period English — the only class you had with Eddie this semester, and of course, the only class everyone sat at long desks that held two people. As you looked out the window to the dark blue skies of Autumn, your conscience kept telling you to be careful. You were about to sit next to the boy who amplified your senses as you sinned. Goodness knows how he’ll react to the news if you told him.

What would he think if he found out you think about his hands helping guide your hips nightly, or his voice telling you ‘you’re so beautiful’ when you finally find the climax of your relief, or his lips kissing your —

“You’re still so tense,” the voice brought you out of your haze for the second time today. But this time, Eddie’s warm hand was on the top of your left thigh; the set of thighs you unknowingly went from bouncing one second to squeezing together the next.

“Just tired, maybe I’ll nap when I get home,” you sighed. Truly, it has been three days since the bane of your guilt was committed. You could barely sleep now that you’ve stopped doing your nightly routine.

“Take a nap in my van, I have cute pillows in there,” he scrunched his nose as he teased you, then released your thigh to stretch his arms in the air.

Thinking of how your class went to the zoo for a field trip once, and Eddie found the scariest-looking bats cute, you replied sweetly: “your definition of cute is not really the same as mine.”

“But, I think you’re cute, don’t you?” Eddie loved to make you blush with his not-so-suave comments. Said it was practice for whenever he goes to the bars and flirts with girls there. But he never was able to make them flustered in the way you always were.

You saw the teacher walk into class in your peripheral vision, and prayed that would mean you didn’t need to talk to your locker and desk neighbour for the next three quarters of an hour. “I’m not,” you shyly say while looking away from The Dealer completely.

“You’re such a good girl too,” his voice was deeper than normal.

He was wrong. So wrong. The guilt in your heart only deepens as his words echo in your ear, along with the voices of your priest telling you need to repent for your sins. If this day couldn’t have gotten any worse, of course the muse of your sinful thoughts believes you’re a good girl when you aren’t.

“I-I’m—” your words are saved by the bell and your teacher’s voice which booms through the classroom. You thought you were safe, thought that until lunch you could get away with not looking at the boy who makes you unknowingly rub your legs together. But no, the day that was going downhill, just hit rock bottom.

“This class is a bit different, it will be a work period since I’m assigning you a small project due Wednesday. That’s not a lot of time, so today will be a work period then tomorrow we will have a lesson. I hope that you all can get the project finished after school over the next couple days.”

Doing a small project wouldn't be so bad, would it? The curiousity sat in your brain momentarily before your thoughts went haywire. The teacher paired you off, specifically with the people you were sitting next to, where each duo would need to analyze and present a different chapter of The Picture of Dorian Gray. So after a beat of silence once the teacher’s explanation was over, the class erupted in murmured voices and squeaky chairs. But you couldn’t get yourself to move to face your project partner.

“Don’t kill me but, we may need to finish this tonight because tomorrow—”

“You have your g-gig, I remember,” spreading out your time with Eddie would have helped your intensifying sinful thoughts subside. At least until you got over your bad habit. But now, you both had to do this for your grades — mainly his — so there was no time to lose. Maybe this could be a positive distraction.

“How about we work on it today right after school so we can get it over with?” he suggests.

“Alright, I guess skipping band practice one time wouldn’t be so bad,” you start shaking your left leg again. If you were a sinner, why not fall down the path of delinquency — your tendency to accept defeat a little too quickly, and then spiral, was catching up to you now.

Eddie notices, and touches your thigh again to calm you down like he has so many times before, even a few minutes ago. Although now, you move your leg away from his grip. “No, no, no, you go be a good girl and head to band practice, then I’ll pick you up afterwards and we'll run to the library,” he says trying not to sound disappointed that you backed away from his touch.

“I’ll finish probably a little after half-past three today since there’s only one song to practice,” you state while opening the book to the assigned chapter. “What will you do while you wait?”

“Oh, you know, maybe do some buying and selling,” The Dealer says nonchalantly.

“Shopping?” you ask innocently.

“Of sorts,” he mimes the act of smoking a joint in your direction, and you look at him curiously before understanding what he meant. You remember your father telling you it’s not a good idea to be friends with your locker neighbour because he’s a sinner who does the Devil’s drugs.

Guess he rubbed off on you, while you rubbed off on something else.

The pang of guilt hit you again. Like a stab to the heart from God himself. Tonight, you’ll do penance until you sleep, before the Devil on your shoulder tells you to commit your sinfully bad habit again. “R-right,” you say quietly. “Let’s get started then, you have to stay focused, Eddie, do you promise?”

“Pinky promise, my dear,” he grabs your fingers that are so much smaller than his, and hooks his pinky onto yours. “Only if you promise to focus too. You’ve been zoning out all day long. When you walk from class to class it looks like you’re constantly about to puke.”

“I do not,” you say in a defiant whisper.

“So do,” he teases. “Listen, if I promise to stay focused the entire time while we try and finish this project, you’re gonna tell me why you’re acting this way. It’s worrying me.”

You pause, looking at Eddie’s weirdly mischievous eyes as he starts to rub the bottom of your back. “There’s nothing really bothering me, though.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you, pretty girl?” his fingers started circling in a pattern that brought pleasurable shivers up your spine. After years of giving you featherlight touches — because that’s what friends do, he said one day — he knew exactly where to grasp your body to make you relax.

“Let me think about it,” you slightly give in. However, you can’t get yourself to admit, again, how badly you want to confess your sins to the one who inspired them.

He notices how you started to squeeze your thighs together again during this class. “That’s all I ask,” Eddie chuckles before moving his hands to your waist to move your body closer to himself. “Now, don’t kill me again, but I didn’t read the chapter. Or the book, so,” he elongated the last word while looking at you with feign-innocence with his doe eyes and pursed lips.

One thing you unknowingly did admit, was just how easily you were able to fall for his manipulative ways.

-:-:-:-:-

As Eddie waited in his van for you to come out of band practice, all he could think about was how strange you’ve been acting throughout the day. You were always one to talk to him in shy tones as he would talk your ear off in any given conversation. Today was different though, and he wasn’t able to place a finger on it. What hurt him most was when you reacted to his touch by moving your leg away — a move you haven’t done in the years you had gotten used to his touch. Then, you didn’t join him for lunch like you did every Monday and Friday, since the other days you would be asked to join the band or church group tables.

Something was off, and Eddie feels like it has something to with the downcast image of you walking through Hawkins on Sunday afternoon. Today, he was going to figure it out.

Ever since the man found out his locker was next to yours on the first day of Freshman year, The Dealer became obsessed with you. Not that you noticed him often — Eddie was notorious for skipping class so much that even though you went to your locker between every class, you would only see him once a day during that year of high school. However, he definitely noticed you: your shyness, the way you kept your head down as you roamed the hallways to the next period, and how you had a tendency of jumping a little every time you closed your locker and saw him standing there at his.

The small silver crucifix that was dangling on your neck was the icing on the cake for Eddie. Realizing then, that you were an innocent Angel who went to Bible study and mass every week. While he could only ask God why He put him in such a shitty place with even shittier parents.

Your innocence astounded him — like when people would joke around about how you didn’t know what sex was, all you would do is blush; or how one time a Senior basketball player walked up to your locker and invited you on a date. He was infamous for keeping a list of all the girls he took the virginities of, and you were his next target. The only thing you did though, was thank him and tell him that Bible study was scheduled to be a long one this week so you would rather go to that.

Something possessive leaped out of Eddie that day as he overheard the conversation from behind the metal door. He had to have you, had to know what it was like to roam your mind. He would do anything to make sure you were his.

So he did. Slowly, as the days passed, he would start talking to you more, trying to get you out of your little shell. You were so quiet that sometimes he would need to get close to your figure as you spoke — not that he minded of course. Eddie genuinely did love your innocence and how you didn’t even realize that he was being a flirtatious pervert when he complimented you. That every time he mentioned you were wearing something nice that day, he would go home and picture fucking you in only that piece of clothing or jewelry. His favourite, being the image of you wearing only that tiny silver crucifix you both loved so much.

Then there were the touches you had grown accustomed to. Eddie would invite you to sit with him during lunch — where he would lightly touch your fingers as he went to steal a fry off your tray. Afterwards, he would take his perverted compliments further, by straightening out the fabric of your skirt or shirt collar for you even if it just came from the dry cleaners. The Dealer would do anything to have an excuse to caress your skin for one moment.

You had asked him one day when you had visited his home to watch a movie: “you touch me a lot, why?”

“Do you not like it? Sorry, I just really enjoy—” if he wasn’t already worried about the fact that you were in his trailer for the first time, his heart dropped at the thought that you might hate him for his touch.

“No,” you would never want to make Eddie feel guilty for his actions. Youth group lessons taught you better than that, since it was only right to be accepting of everyone. “What I mean is, I don’t see many other friends do that with each other and I feel bad for them.”

It was his turn to be curious now. “What do you mean?”

“Your touches are nice, Eddie, so soft and sweet. I wish that all people would feel as nice as this with their friends too.” Look at you being charitable with your experiences — when these touches were only meant for you.

“That’s what friends do, they find ways to make their friends feel good.”

“Do you want me to do it for you too?” you reach out to touch his shoulder awkwardly, but you weren’t one to enjoy touching other people yourself.

“Not if you don’t want to. You make me feel good by being there for me when I need it. While I do the same for you, when you need someone to support you,” it’s true; even through all his indecent intentions, Eddie truly found an innocent and friendly warmth within himself for you, besides his love of wanting to be more than friends.

You look at him with sweet eyes to innocently ask the next question. “Then may you please rub my back like you do sometimes? It makes my heartbeat calm down and this movie is scary.”

“Of course, Angel,” it was right then, Eddie realized how much he loved it when you were needy.

“I wish I could have you do this whenever my cousins want to watch horror movies with me. Honestly, my parents don’t even know I’m here. But I just like your tou–”

“Tsk tsk, so naughty. Where do they think you are?”

“Am not,” you exclaimed and Eddie could tell your heart was beating a lot faster than before so he started to rub sweet circles on your back. “Plus, they think I’m watching a movie at a friend’s house, just don’t know who. It’s not a lie. I’m still a good girl.”

“Yes, you are,” he proclaimed deeply, realizing his rebel tendencies have inspired you. While you nearly moaned as your heartbeat stabilized, his touch and his voice made you feel so much better.

When Eddie was home alone that night, he couldn’t stop replaying the small whimpers of yours he memorized. If it was the hormones, or your innocent eagerness to be alone with him and let him touch you — he would never know which one he loved more.

Eddie was a sinner, he knew that, and was able to empower himself with the label. No matter how many times people around Hawkins would rebuke him as the Devil, or how often he would get stares from kids at school as he started to talk to you more: none of it phased him. What he loved most about you was how easily your innocence became obliviousness when it came to his sins – that you would hear about them and refuse to believe he was such a bad person because he was always so nice to you. Eddie couldn’t seem to understand why.

What he did understand though, was that his biggest sin was that every damn day of his life he was on the path of no return when it came to wanting to corrupt your virtue. To make all of his fantasies become a reality as he wanted to slowly make you addicted to him.

Did you figure it out? Is that why you were so awkward with him throughout the day? Why did you beg for his familiar touch in his memories, but pull away today?

Eddie’s mind moved at a million miles a minute, unsure of what was going on. But one thing was for sure: he was going to find out exactly what was hurting you, and he was going to do everything in his power to relieve that pain.

A small tap on the driver door window brought him out of his overstimulated thoughts. “Are you ready to go?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier, but Eddie was able to hear you before nodding.

He chuckled at your tendency to knock everywhere before you entered. Even with the van, you never approached it first unless he was already in it, or opened the door for you — that was mainly because The Dealer wanted to have some semblance of being a gentleman to you, even if he took that opportunity to touch your back to guide you into your seat.

“So the library?” Eddie asked as he watched you put your bag on the floor and straighten your skirt in the seat, not looking him in the eye as you respond.

“Y-yeah, it probably won’t be crowded since it’s a Monday.”

You were wrong, so wrong. It looks like all of the English teachers assigned similar group projects to their classes, since the library was filled to the brim with students from all grades cooped up at tables. You started to get nervous, the library was going to be your saving grace as you worked on this project.

“Should we go to my place?” He asked while tugging on the strap of your backpack lightly to get your attention.

“No,” you exclaimed a little too loudly, shocking Eddie a bit. “We can j-just go to mine instead.”

If you two finished the tasks at his trailer, then you felt as if it was walking into the Devil’s lair — a place where Eddie sinned like your parents said he did. The memories of the times your friend made you feel warm were enough to commit your treacherous acts; goodness knows how you’ll be when you’re in a room where everything is him.

While bringing the Devil reincarnate into your home wasn’t the best idea, your house had your Bible and other religious paraphernalia to protect you from giving into temptation. But, that’s also the place where you committed your unknowing sin, night after night — you thought.

These conflicting thoughts were about to be the death of you, as long as the annoying throbbing between your legs and Eddie’s teasingly sinister voice didn’t get you first.

-:-:-:-:-

#eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female character #Eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson x innocent!reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie munson x innocent!reader #friends to lovers #dacryphilia #slight dubcon #nothing too crazy tho #ST fics #ST fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #ST #Catholic!reader #catholic trauma #religious trauma #Eddie munson x Catholic!reader #Eddie munson x religious!reader #my fics #my writing #writing

[mammon-s]

Having a sleepover with Vampire! Belphie and waking up to his teeth sunken in you and feeling him grinding against you.

He shushes away all your little whines and whimpers telling you to “be a good little human and let me drink, you can handle it” covering your mouth with his hand because “what would my brothers say if they heard you? Do you want them to see you letting yourself get all used up like a whore?”

He doesn’t care when your vision starts to blur and your grip on him starts to go slack, in fact it just makes him desperately grind against you more, his teeth sinking in harder.

Even when your body goes completely limp it takes him a minute to finally pull off, licking the blood that’s dripping from your neck. “That’s it, sleep now my little lamb.” As he brushes your hair from your face, admiring your unconscious form.

#slight dubcon #slight somno #I’ll tag them just in case #tw dubcon #cw dubcon #tw somno #cw somno #tw somnophilia #cw somnophilia #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me smut #obey me belphie smut #obey me belphegor smut #vampire Belphie

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

The Storeroom Incident

When professor Sharp asks you to assist him with fetching some more volatile ingredients from the storage cupboard in the dungeons, of course you come to his aid. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like the door will lock behind you and trap you inside, right? Right?

Shout out to my amazing consultant, @tea-withjamandbread <3

header made by yours truly

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN

The Storeroom Incident (6.2k words)

tw: explicit, vaginal sex, orgasm denial/edging, dubious consent (but not really), teacher-student relationship (reader is an adult), age difference, dirty talk, light swearing, porn with little plot

How did you even end up in this situation? Your front was pressed against a door, you were breathing and blushing heavily, your heart was beating out of your chest. Two large hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as your potions professor’s hot breath scorched the skin of your neck. 

It was a day like any other. You woke up and went to breakfast in the Great Hall, idly chatting with some of your housemates about nothing in particular, other than the upcoming exams and everyone’s nerves. You gently rejected Natty and Poppy’s proposal to enjoy the Saturday in Hogsmeade in favour of preparing for the practical exam from NEWT level potions. Your essay was long since written, proofread about a dozen times and even appraised by professor Sharp, whom you asked for criticism. 

Speaking of professor Sharp, you gave him a little smile and a ‘good morning, sir’ as you entered his classroom sometime later. He was sitting behind his desk as usual, enjoying a cup of tea and some biscuits. You haven’t seen him in the Great hall, so he either ate earlier than you, or he decided to forego the full English breakfast in favour of sleeping in, and later decided that biscuits were a acceptable breakfast substitute. 

Judging by his still quite sleepy eyes, you decided it was the latter.

He murmured something unintelligible in return and waved his wand. Another teacup appeared and the steaming hot earl grey was poured into it. You sat down on the other side of his desk and thanked him, bringing your tea to your lips and blowing on it softly.

“So, miss (L/N),” he drawled in his gruff voice, although there was a certain amount of warmth hidden inside it, “what will you be brewing today?”

Yes, you could have easily used the Room of Requirement for your potion making. You did use it, for potions like Wiggenweld, Maxima, Wideye or Dreamless sleep, however,you preferred to brew the more complicated concoctions in the safety of the classroom, as well as professor Sharp’s company. The man always provided you with useful advice, guiding you towards unlocking your full potential.

“Oh, I think it’s nearly time to finish the Polyjuice potion, sir,” you chirped cheerfully, sipping on your tea and leaning back in the chair before his desk. “I think you may be right,” agreed the professor, “remember, Miss (L/N), the entirety of that potion stays here. I don’t want you running around the castle impersonating your classmates, or, Salazar forbid, your professors.”

You give him your most innocent smile, batting your eyelashes. 

“I would never, sir.” 

That was a lie. One of the best Christmas presents you’ve ever received was the chance to impersonate Headmaster Black in your fifth year. Yes, you did so in order to get a password for his office, where Niamh Fitzgerald’s Keeper trial was waiting for you, but you had to admit to yourself that it was pure, unadulterated fun. Very much unlike the following trial, which still sometimes made you wake up in cold sweat.

Though Sharp probably knew you were lying through your teeth, he decided not to comment on it, giving you an unimpressed sarcastic expression instead before placing another biscuit into his mouth. You copied him, a little smile still present on your face. 

The potions professor, you found, had a bit of sweet tooth. Sometimes when you’d come over, you’d make a stop in the kitchens first and sweet talk some baked goodies out of the house elves there. Well, sweet talk… the little fellows pretty much pushed them into your hands the moment you stepped in! You only ever took enough for the two of you to share. It always improved the grumpy man’s mood slightly.

“Before you go get your cauldron from my office, there is something I could use your help with,” professor Sharp said as he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, brushing away the few little crumbs that stuck to his lips and beard. His pink tongue appeared and he licked at his lips. You couldn’t help but follow the muscle’s movement with fascination. “Of course, sir, how may I aid you?” you said innocently.

“There are a few ingredients in the storeroom that I’ll need for later. They are a little volatile, which is why I can’t just summon them, and as useful as Hogwarts’ house elves are, I’d still feel more comfortable to fetch them myself. And as I don’t want to have to make two separate trips there, your assistance would be greatly appreciated.”

You finished your tea, the hot drink making your body warm up. Or was your teacher’s dulcet tones? Nevertheless, you smiled at him again: “Certainly, professor Sharp. I am entirely at your disposal.” 

“Good,” he replied curtly and stood up from his chair, “let us be on our way then.”

You made your way down towards the storeroom in comfortable silence, descending further into the dungeons. The air was cool and damp down there, a big contrast to the outside of the castle’s walls, where summer was quickly approaching, bringing the sun and its warmth. Professor Sharp used a key to unlock the door to the storage closet, no doubt enchanted to be nearly or entirely resistant to the unlocking charm. 

You stepped into the room together, the space so tight your shoulder was touching his upper arm as you stood next to each other there. “So,” you began, your voice a little quiet as you found yourself slightly tense to be so close to the former Auror, “what are we looking for, sir?” Professor Sharp cast a non-verbal Lumos and started skimming his eyes over the shelves to the left and the various jars and bottles they held.

Suddenly, the door closed shut with a bang, startling you both. Professor Sharp’s surprise forced him to drop the charm and you were suddenly plunged into total darkness. “A draft of wind?” you chuckled awkwardly, embarrassed at the high pitched yelp that escaped your lips. You could almost hear Sharp roll his eyes: “A draft of wind, Miss (L/N)... In the dungeons where there are no windows… With all due respect, Miss, that seems highly unlikely.” You went red under his remark. He was, of course, right.

With a sigh, the potions master reached for the door, making you blush even further, as his body brushed against yours in the process. He gripped the handle and… nothing. You expected him to open the door and let some of the dim light of the corridor inside the tiny room as well, but you both remained in total darkness. You felt his confused little sound before you heard it, as his strong chest pressed against your own. He gripped the handle again and this time you heard him repeatedly pushing and pulling at the door. 

It didn't budge.

“It sounds like the door’s just… locked,” you say curiously. Professor Sharp is quiet, it feels as if he nearly doesn’t breathe, and it suddenly occurs to you as to why. Uh oh. The door is locked, and the key is inside the lock on the other side. Therefore, judging by your professor’s silent state, this door really cannot be opened with the unlocking charm. The two of you were stuck.

“Lumos,” you say and the tip of your wand flares up with a bright light. Your professor is still standing very close, looking at the door morosely. “Um, sir…” you nearly whisper, “we couldn’t… blast the door out?” The tall teacher turns to look at you, a dark amused expression in his brown eyes. “By all means, Miss (L/N), be my guest. That is if you’d like the two of us to die - the door is reinforced by enchantments, and I’m fairly certain there’s some highly explosive powdered Erumptent’s horn somewhere in here.”

You huffed. Sometimes he was really driving you mad with his snarky comments. “Then what do we do, professor Sharp? Just wait here until someone passes by and unlocks the door for us? It’s Saturday, sir, nobody’s going to come through here until Tuesday when the Fourth years have Alchemy class.” You may have sounded a little desperate… If only one could apparate in Hogwarts! You understood why the no apparition rule was set, but why on Earth couldn’t teachers be excepted from it? Were you really going to spend three entire days stuck with the potions master? What would you eat? Where would you sleep? 

Oh… Oh, no… How would you use the bathroom?

Professor Sharp seemed completely calm where he stood in front of you, if not a little bored. “Why don’t you try and call out, Miss (L/N)? Bang on the door? You never know, maybe someone’s wandering through the corridors, lost or looking for mischief… Or perhaps a friendly ghost will hear and glide for someone to aid us.”

You put the light out on your wand and pushed it into your robes, so that you could use both of your hands pounding on the door. And pound you did. “Hello! Hellooo-?! Can anyone hear me?! We’re stuck in here! Hello?! Anyone?!”

Your shouting and beating on the door caused you to not hear the movement behind you. So when you were suddenly pushed against the cold wood, there was nothing you could do but gasp and yelp in surprise. Professor Sharp’s large, powerful body pressed into your own from behind, his hands on your hips and his lips inches away from your ear. His breath was scorching hot when he spoke: “See, my dear. Nobody will be able to hear you. You poor little thing…” he said darkly then, and you felt something hard push against the curve of your bottom, “Stuck with me out of all people… I am going to ruin you for everyone else.” 

And with that, his mouth attached itself to your neck, making you shudder with both fear, but also a strange surge of arousal. In any case, you weren’t able to do anything about it, as you were perfectly sandwiched between the door and Sharp’s body, your wand absolutely out of your reach when your front was squished against the wood like this. Sharp growled into your ear and bucked his hips against your behind. 

You were helpless… Completely at his mercy. 

He began nibbling down your earlobe, his teeth sinking into a little spot between your ear and your neck, and you suddenly moaned, the sound torn out of you unexpectedly. Your body felt way too heated, and the air around you terribly heavy. “P-professor…” you gasped when he rutted against your bottocks again, his large build making you feel like you were going to be crushed. You cried out softly when a calloused hand slipped under your skirt and trailed between your legs, making you instinctively close them and trapping the curious hand there in the process. You shuddered: “Sir…”

“Such a sweet girl you are, Miss (L/N), so very innocent…” said professor Sharp, his voice a hoarse whisper. Two long fingers pressed against your folds roughly and you suddenly realised just how damp your underwear felt. “Do you even know what your body wants? What is it aching for?” The fingers searched blindly along your soaked drawers, looking for a way to get under them, touching your most intimate areas and making you writhe as well as you could in his iron hold. You were filled with so many sensations, the burning pleasure, the confusion, the slight twinge of fear at professor Sharp’s sudden shift in personality, but also a sense of wild heady want. 

One strong arm curled around your abdomen, keeping you in place between Sharp and the door, while his hips started rhythmically rubbing against your behind, the feeling of his hot hardness making your cheeks burn even more, and when his gruff voice began grunting right into your ear, you could barely stand it anymore. You tried to move again, unsure whether you wanted to move away from him, or further into him. The arm around your stomach gripped you harder immediately, and you were promptly reminded which one of you was stronger.

The long digits of his hand finally found their way into your underwear, and you whimpered when they made contact with your soaked core. This was wrong. He shouldn’t be touching you like this. And you definitely shouldn’t be putty in his hands, moaning for more, your legs quivering. Your back tried to arch in vain when he pressed against your clit with his thumb.

“That’s right…” he said, his voice low and dangerous “yield to your master, my little lamb.” 

Silence. 

And then.

You let out a little breathless chuckle. And then another, And then a few more until you’re laughing fully. 

“A lamb?! Really, Aesop?” you ask through your laughter, leaning your head against his shoulder behind you. He’s slightly shaking with his own giggles: “I’m sorry, dear, that was so bad.” You laugh together, your position getting slightly awkward, as he’s still squeezing you tightly with one of his arms while his free hand’s just sort of resting against your core inside your underwear. You make a move to turn around and he releases his hold immediately. 

“Lumos,” you say once more that day and the soft white light illuminates the small room. You put your wand on one of the empty shelves. “Oh, Merlin’s beard,” you chuckle again, running your hand through your hair, your cheeks still blushed heavily, “As much as I enjoyed this little play of ours, I don’t think I can take it seriously now, not when I’m being called barn animals.” 

“Alright, first of all, it was a barn animal, singular, and second of all, I mean… It’s not the worst barn animal one can be called, lambs are cute.” was Aesop’s facetious answer, as his arms slowly wrapped around your waist, much gentler now. “Meh, true enough,” you relented, letting yourself be pulled into his embrace. 

“Thanks for not calling me a cow, by the way.”

“Oh, come off it, you!”

You kissed his lips slowly, teasingly. “Is there actually a powdered erumpent horn in here? Should I be worried?” you asked then. “There is, but it’s fairly safe without the explosive fluid. Still, best not to take down any shelves while we’re at it” Another long, passionate kiss.

“Speaking of which, do you want to continue, or shall we retire to my chambers?” The potions master offered after a while, and you could feel that his throbbing need had not subsided in the slightest. Neither has yours. “No more barn animals,” you said cheekily then, pointing your finger at him and admiring his features in the soft light of your wand on one of the shelves. His eyes, darker than two bottomless pits, twinkled momentarily as he lifted his hands in surrender: “No more barn animals, promise.”

After another heated kiss, during which his fingers kneaded the flesh of your behind, one of your hands moved to his front to return his previous teasing, easily slipping into his trousers and underwear and finding the hot stiffness there. Your first sexual adventure was still fairly fresh in both of your memories, but you already knew how he liked being touched, you knew what made him groan, what made him throw his head back. He knew the same about you, and he promptly proved such, when his hand disappeared into your drawers again to resume fondling your cunny. 

You played with each other for a little, sharing open mouthed kisses and a single breath. “How would you like me then?” you asked before a whimper was forced out of your mouth by a particularly delicious twist of his fingers. He responded by giving you a wolfish grin, and you suddenly found yourself one pair of drawers poorer, as the sound of ripping fabric tore through the otherwise silent room. “Oi!” you protested, “those were perfectly fine underwear!” “I’ll get you a new pair,” replied Aesop dismissively, shoving the ruined piece of garment into his trousers pocket. His smug little smile was so handsome, yet so infuriating, it made you want to kiss it off his blasted face. So you did.  

The potions master hummed against your lips, his hands coming to squeeze and fondle your now bare backside, massaging the cheeks in his large palms for a little while, before dropping them lower, to the back of your thighs. 

Your feet suddenly leave the ground, and your surprised sound forces your mouths to part, as you scramble to grab onto both of his shoulders, and wrap your legs around his slim hips in an instinctive effort to not fall. He chuckles slowly. His teeth are illuminated by the glow of your wand, making him appear slightly predatory, and forcing a shiver roll down your spine. Once again, you are sandwiched between the door and his body, except this time you’re facing him.

Using the door and his body for leverage, Aesop lets go off one of your legs in order to hurriedly tug his straining trousers and underwear down, finally revealing the throbbing erection he sported since the moment he originally pinned you to the door. Maybe even before that. You feel your lover push your skirt up as much as he can, his engorged tip teasing at your soaked folds. He gives you one more heated look, and his voice is clouded with lust when he speaks: “Alright?” 

Despite being quite fond of the occasional rough play and wild passionate coupling, one thing about Aesop was that he always made sure you wanted it too. And how could you not?

“Alright, love.”

And with that, Aesop gave you one last smile before positioning himself. He let gravity help him, loosening his hold on you just enough to make you sink on his throbbing prick fully. You gasped at the intrusion, your back arching against the door. Even after quite a few fun escapades together, your lover was still a lot to take in, not to mention a force to be reckoned with. He licked hotly into your mouth while your body adjusted to his considerable size. The searing arousal combined with the thrum of anticipation, as well as the blissful feeling of intimity, made you feel lightheaded. The potions master was breathing hard, being enveloped in your tight heat making him tether on the edge of sweet madness.

Aesop pulled out then ever so slightly, before plunging back in immediately, the movement making both of you shudder and groan into your still loosely connected mouths. He set a slow rhythm at first, savouring the delicious friction, your walls stretching around him, squeezing him. Both of his hands moved to your bottom, fingertips digging into the plush flesh as his mouth left yours in order to attach itself to the tender skin of your neck instead. The sensation of his rough, prickly stubble only served to heighten your desire, and a trembled moan poured out your lips.

“Good heavens, lass, the things you do to me…” he slurred between thrusts, voice cracking with pleasure, “making me feel- ah! like a bloody teenager. Making me- hngh… crave to be inside you with a single look.” His current libido was most likely only a bit bigger than that of any other man who was in a fairly new intimate relationship, however, after years of dry spell, Aesop genuinely felt like his yearning suddenly went from below zero to red-hot. You weren’t exactly making it any easier for him - you weren’t a stranger to the act of bringing pleasure to oneself before, however, that first ardent, lust-filled night has awakened what felt like a sexual renaissance within you. It made you long for him as much as he longed for you, and the two of you always connected in a searing inferno of mutual desire and the sweet surrender to it.

Your fingers knotted into his hair, pulling at the locks near his nape perfectly, while simultaneously sinking your teeth into the edge of his jaw, right under his ear. You knew this particular combination of sensations drove him wild. His hips stuttered mid-thrust and his hands squeezed you harder, a low growl reverberating around the tight space. The snapping of his hips increased in speed and his large manhood throbbed within you, his heightening need evident. You moved against each other with increasing desperation, your previous activity having left you feeling the first faint hints of an upcoming climax, which were becoming more and more pronounced under Aesop’s relentless pounding into your willing body.

One of the potions master’s hands dipped down between the tight fit of your bodies and he began rubbing harshly at your lovenub in time with his thrusting. The double stimulation, his hot ragged breath on your even hotter skin, the wonderful ache of your current position, and his groans turned short moans made the knot in your core grow tighter and tighter. You were rushing straight towards that peak, tugging at your lover’s hair and pushing his face closer to your neck, your eyes closed and mouth opened in a consistent stream of wanton sounds. However, before you could reach it and jump straight off to claim your release, all of the wonderful sensations suddenly stopped.

You were left trembling and breathing hard, imprisoned between the door and your beloved, your sex aching and screaming at you. You couldn't move, couldn't buck your hips, couldn't arch your back, couldn't do anything to bring that sweet friction back - Aesop was holding you too tight. Your upcoming climax got fainter and fainter until it became nothing but a blurry vision. You threw your head back against the door, as it was the only thing you could move, ignoring the pain and the banging sound your movement caused, too busy letting out a very unhappy whine. 

“Why?!” your voice was high and desperate, unwanted tears of frustration gathering behind your screwed shut eyelids. So close, you were so close! Why would he stop? You were suddenly angry with him for ripping your orgasm away from you and you took a breath to give him a mouthful, when a pair of hot lips pressed against your own. 

Aesop's hold lessened and you regained some of your freedom to move. He started a slow rhythm once more, and your anger slowly dissipated. The pleasure began coming back, but it felt different. More intense. It felt like it was rippling under your very skin, as if every single nerve ending was connected to your core by an invisible string. Aesop’s hands, his mouth left a scorching heat in their wake, one that spread throughout your flesh a sweetly invaded and imprisoned your mind, taking away from you all of your higher mental functions.

The climax came back into view, even though Aesop was moving considerably slower than before, and the fingers on your clit retreated. With every single second, every deep thrust, your abdomen tightened, body preparing itself for its unravelling, and when both of his hands grabbed your hips again, his own speeding up, you felt about ready to beg. And so you did.

"A-Aesop, p-please… Please don't stop now! Please," you were long past any actual coherent speech, tears were still running out of your eyes and your body ached and tensed for release, feeling like it might burn to a crisp if it's denied again. 

It wouldn't be.

With a dark chuckle that turned into a groan, Aesop continued his deep thrusts, angling you slightly to find that very special spot inside you. He was successful in his endeavour merely a few seconds later, and if you weren’t currently in the midst of releasing a frankly pathetic wanton sound, with your nails clawing at his back, you would’ve surely made a remark that bringing you pleasure was his greatest talent. 

He pulled away slightly to watch where his thick cock kept pistoning in and out of you. “Dear Merlin,” he growled between his harsh breaths, his voice an octave lower, “look at you. Taking me so bloody well.” He leaned back in, releasing shuddering puffs of air against your now perpetually open lips. “You are mine… No one else’s. Say it.” He was close. Aesop quite often doubted himself and his deserving of you, however, when he was close to his peak, he got deliciously possessive. He got selfish. Nobody else was going to have you, nobody else was going to be allowed to do to you the things he did, nobody else was going to make you feel this good. 

“Y-yours,” you whimpered out, your answer the same as it always was. Your head dropped to his shoulder, and your thighs were beginning to quiver around his pumping hips. However, the potions master wouldn’t quite allow you to hide your face from his sight like this. One hand came to grab it and pull it right back with gentleness that contrasted the roughness of his voice. The knot in your stomach was growing heavier with every snap of his hips, it was glowing brighter, becoming red-hot. Your eyes fluttered as you were forced to look at him. His own eyes were bottomless dark pits of molten lava, and you craved to fall into them and burn. You could see his pleasure, his love, his utter devotion, even as his voice came out a strained growl: “Say it again.”

Time stopped. There was nothing but him. No Hogwarts, no blasted ingredient cupboard, nothing but him loving you, and bringing you to your edge. It was over, you felt yourself tipping over and plummeting down. “I am yours, Aesop,” spoke a voice you barely recognised as your own, before a loud cry forced its way out of your throat and two more tears fell from your eyes. 

You felt yourself being ripped out from your body by some unseen force, only to return a fraction of a second later to a gratification so overwhelming, it was nearly too much. The orgasm he denied you earlier came back, and it shook you to your very core. Your head trashed against the door, your legs were shaking violently, and your walls were clenching and unclenching around his prick tightly, the proof of your pleasure squirting out and staining his trousers.

It was like a hurricane rolled through you, and you weren’t exactly aware of the sounds you were releasing, nor the sight you were making. However, Aesop absolutely was. And it forced him to grab your hips harshly and increase the speed of his rutting: “Oh, fuck…f-fuck, sweetheart…” When Aesop Sharp began cursing, he was either extremely mad, or mere seconds away from an earth-shattering orgasm. 

His cock pulsed heavily, getting even stiffer as he repeatedly rammed it into your trembling body, precum leaking out in a constant drizzle by now, before finally - Aesop’s strong hand closed around your silky locks, and he tugged. You moaned at the sensation, still lost in the throes of your own explosive climax. The professor pressed his forehead against yours, his wavering gaze desperately locking onto your own, and his choked out moan falling against your lips. His hips stuttered as he emptied himself within you.

You were vaguely aware of the hotness that spread inside of you as your lover reached his peak, still very much out of it from your own thunderous release. You did take notice, however, that the professor’s body began trembling slightly. His orgasm left him slightly weak, therefore holding you pinned against the door was quite the effort. He used the last of his strength to lift you off the door, turn so that his own back was leaning against it, and slowly sank down onto his bottom with you in his arms.

Aesop let his head rest against the cool wood, his ragged breaths mingling with your own in the tight space, his tired arms having released their vice grip on you and closed around your waist loosely instead. Your brain has been masterfully turned off, unable to comprehend any concept more difficult than 'pleasure', 'gratification', 'love' and 'exhaustion'. You reposed in the storeroom quietly, basking in the heavenly afterglow of your shared ardour. 

You stirred slowly, fatigue making your eyes strangely heavy, while your limbs positively felt like they were made of lead. It was quite curious - not you feeling a little tired after a lovely culmination of your lovemaking, but the fact that this was no ‘little tiredness’. You felt about ready to ignore absolutely everything in favour of just closing your eyes and dozing off. Then again, your release today has been a particularly thunderous one…

“What the devil did you do to me…” you slurred against the heated skin of his neck, fighting to keep yourself awake. Aesop, still coming down from his high as well, took a few moments to answer. “Oh… that. Sorry, I should have warned you beforehand. I did mean to tell you, but then… you know. With the lamb…” Despite your tiredness, a chuckle broke out from your lips, one Aesop soon joined into. “I really am sorry, though… Are you alright?” You thought for a while. While you really could’ve used the heads up, you supposed the result was quite worth it, even if it meant your energy levels had dropped to almost zero. “Hmm…” you sighed, snuggling further into his neck: “I’m great… Though, I might just fall asleep on you.”

Your lover chuckled once more. “As much as I’d like to let you, I’m afraid that you wouldn’t be able to get me back onto my feet afterwards. I’m not twenty anymore, napping on the floor has severe consequences.” It was your turn to laugh. You sluggishly moved your hands to his shoulders and braced against them as you got up, releasing a tiny groan as you found yourself empty, your combined releases running out. Still, you extended a hand towards Aesop and aided in pulling him up and to his feet. 

With a flick of his wand then, you were both squeaky clean of all bodily fluids, the door clicked unlocked and the silencing charm was dropped. He languidly tucked himself back into his pants with a content expression, slightly leaning back against the door. “You owe me a pair of drawers,” you reminded him. 

“I’ll happily buy you a hundred of them, as long as I get to watch you try them on.”

“You utter beast, Aesop!”

You stuck your head out of the door after making yourself a bit more presentable, and, unsurprisingly, found that the corridor was completely empty. It was a Saturday after all, the majority of third years and up were in Hogsmeade, many students were enjoying the sunny day on the banks of the Black Lake, and some were simply in their common rooms or out on the school grounds. First and second years had no business around here, unless they were looking for trouble or very very lost.

You made your way to the nearest floo flames, Aesop’s hand holding your own cautiously, ready to let go immediately in case anyone popped out from behind the corner unexpectedly. However, it seemed the Faculty tower was similarly deserted, and the two of you walked hand in hand all the way to his chambers, sharing quiet banter, your yawns interrupting the conversation every few moments. Sweet Merlin, you really were beat…

The door of Aesop’s chambers closed heavily behind you, locking itself promptly, and you leaned back against it, happy to finally be in the comfort of Aesop’s rooms, with nobody else but the man himself. 

“One would've thought you’d have enough doors against your back for one day,” Aesop teased quietly. You didn’t even bother answering his remark, or opening your eyes for that matter. There was nothing but silence coming from the potions master for a while, but then a very gentle pair of lips brushed against your own. Despite your fatigue, your mouth stretched into a little smile, and you returned the kiss, your arms trailing up to wrap around his shoulders on their own accord.

After a series of little kisses and pecks, you felt Aesop shift, and suddenly one of his hands was placed at the back of your lower thigh, the other curled around your side. You opened your eyes just as your beloved lifted you into his arms, and, with utmost care like you were something incredibly precious, carried you over to his bedroom. You stifled another deep yawn against his throat, prompting Aesop to chuckle softly. “Aren’t I usually the one who wants to rest afterwards?” he quipped again. His face took on an expression of mild worry when his little jab went unanswered once more. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked once he gently placed you upon his bed, your head and body immediately nestling into the soft, clean sheets. He sat on the bed’s edge beside you, his hand placed on your hip. “Hmm, alright…” you mumbled, looking at him through your lashes, “Please tell me I actually did finish that polyjuice two days ago… I don't think I'd be able to brew even a Wit-sharpening potion right now.” 

This made him grin impishly: “You can’t seriously think I’d leave such a potion unattended after it’s finished stewing, can you?” 

“Oh, and here I thought I made you stop thinking altogether.”

You look at each other fondly for several seconds.

“Really, though, are you-” “Yes, Aesop, I promise I’m alright, just get in here, you beast!” You laughed out loud and pulled at his hand until he was forced to climb into the bed behind you. You immediately nuzzled into his arms, relishing in their warmth and comfort. Aesop hasn’t stopped grinning. “So… I know ‘lamb’ and other barn animals are a no-go, however, you definitely cuddle into and purr against me like a kitten." You groaned lightly, no actual annoyance in your voice.

“Hmm… ’Kitten’ I am pretty alright with,” you said eventually, opening your eyes to look up at him in good humour. “Is that what we’re doing now, by the way? Animals? Because if so, you are absolutely a big bad wolf. Always trying to eat me right up…” 

“Eat you up, you say?” is all Aesop said with a positively wicked grin, before descending down on you, his teeth immediately going for your neck, pinching the skin there and scratching it with his beard. You squealed softly at the feeling, hands going into his hair, unsure whether to pull him closer or push him off. He eventually pulled away himself and settled on the bed once more, pressing himself to you. “I’ll stick to the more human terms of endearment, I think. Nothing wrong with ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’,” he said quietly then. You smiled against the material of his shirt: “Hmm… I love it when you call me that, Ace.”

Aesop froze momentarily. Ace. It was Ashley’s, his Auror partner and oldest friend’s nickname for him. Nobody has called him that in more than a decade, by his own wish. The last time he heard it was in that godforsaken harbour.

“Alright, Ace. Lead the way.”

The potions master swallowed audibly. It’s been so long. He blinked his eyes rapidly and suppressed a shaky breath. The strangest thing was - while his heart panged at the memory of his late partner, the nickname that fell from your lips caused it to speed up and flutter.

When you said that one simple short word, it felt like a wave of warmth rolled through him. And while he was reminded of the past, what he felt most of all was… a strange sense of elation. The word rolled from your tongue so naturally, as if it’s always been there, as if you never called him anything else.

And he wanted to hear it again. 

“Aesop? Love, are you alright, have I said something wrong?” The professor realised you had been looking at him with equal parts worry and confusion. “No, no…” he breathed out and his mouth stretched into a little smile. 

“Not good? The nickname? I just thought, you know… Aesop - Ace. Sorry, I guess it’s a little silly.”

“It’s not. You’re not the first person to call me that, but I couldn’t stand the nickname for the past 12 years. You though… You can call me that, if you want to… I'd like you to.” Aesop said quietly, his large hands drawing little circles against your back where he held you. You looked deep into his eyes, before taking his face in your palms. 

“Are you sure, Ace?” 

His breath hitched again, but he couldn't deny the pleasurable shudder that overtook him when he heard the word in your tender voice once more. He closed his arms tighter around your form, pulling you against his chest. You curled up into your lover once more, nosing at his throat and caressing him wherever you were able to reach.

“Will you tell me someday?”

“I will. One day, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

Hiya! I hope you enjoyed reading. You can also find this story as well as all of my other stories on AO3. I love feedback <3

#hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #reader insert #aesop sharp #professor sharp #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x you #professor sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #aesop sharp smut #slight dubcon #roleplay #smut and fluff

[mara-xx217]

Her Living Canvas (Dbd: The Artist/Fem!Reader Commission)

This is for @hexheathen!

You can get access to more things like this early on my Patreon!

Warnings: Yandere, Slight Dubcon, Possessiveness, NSFW, Tickling, Inky Kisses and Touches

Thick, cool ink stained your skin, your hair, your clothing. The Artist loved to use you as her own personal canvas, something living, organic, wholly hers. She would take your clothing off, herself. Allow her ink to stain them, bleed into them, forever marking them as not yours but hers. The Artist can manipulate her ink to do her bidding, to push or pull, to cut or rip, to caress or fondle…

She crooned softly as her black eyes searched your partially nude form. Your face heated up as you shifted in place, wincing ever so slightly as you were reprimanded for moving out of the position that the Artist had posed you in. Her crowing was sharp, as was the way her feathers ruffled and her ink suddenly sharpened into something dangerous. But her anger was short-lived as you returned to your original position. 

Yes, stay just like that… 

You shiver as cool, wet ink touches your cheek. Her touch was deliberate as she painted the curve of your cheekbone. Your nose wrinkles as a ticklish sensation moves to your jawline, to your chin, before it suddenly curves upwards towards your lips.

The Artist cooed and gurgled as she leaned towards your face. You find your eyes fluttering shut in spite of the thrill of fear that bristles down your spine. This isn’t right… You shouldn’t… But you do. You don’t pull or turn away as cool, painted lips press against your dry and chapped ones. 

It still makes you feel warm and fuzzy. She makes you feel warm and fuzzy. You furrow your brows as the other side of your chin is painted. The Artist parts her lips in a bid to deepen the kiss in spite of her missing tongue. You do so without much hesitation, no longer as bothered by kissing her this way as you once were. It feels… weird. Too open, too dry or too wet with no in between, there’s only a short, broad stump where her tongue remains… 

You hiss softly as your ear is tickled by an imaginary brush. You nearly move and it causes the Artist to give you a warning growl. You fall still, tears watering your eyes as you struggle not to flinch as her ink trial follows the line of your neck down to your partially exposed shoulder. 

“H-Hmmm-!” 

Your shirt hung loosely off your shoulders. It was mostly unbuttoned, leaving your chest largely bare. The Artist had removed every article of clothing that you wore except for your shirt and your socks. Embarrassing… You had the urge to hide yourself from her critical gaze but you forced your arms and legs to be still. You have to be still… She’ll get angry, she’ll get rough, the Artist will leave her signature on your body- 

The feeling of ink drying on your collarbone made your skin feel tight. It wasn’t wholly unpleasant… You shivered as the Artist’s eyes mapped every curve of your body. Your sides, your chest… She’s seen it a hundred times yet you are somehow one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen. The Artist can’t quite recall how her hands once felt but it didn’t stop her from crafting something more familiar to her. They were more akin to the feet of a bird- a crow, you remind yourself- and they had a sort of sharpness to them that made your skin burst out into gooseflesh.

“A-Ahh…” 

You shuddered as the Artist fondled your chest, sharply, at first, then much more gentle as your face twisted up in discomfort. A look of passive pleasure suited you far better, she thought. She nudged your knees to the side so she could slip herself between your legs. You fit so well against her… Her body was twisted, too long, too sharp… yet it was as though your form was created to compliment her own. The Artist enjoyed how you struggled to stay still as you began to react to both her touch and her gaze physically. 

She croaked as she turned her head this way and that. It's always so unnatural, like she would break her own neck from the sharp angles her head would twist. Even if you had decided to turn your face away, there would be nowhere for you to hide. The Artist carefully released your breasts, making sure to not smear her ink any further than she consciously intended.

The ghost of her hands on your body was so attractive… 

It would be a lie to say that being her personal canvas wasn’t incredibly erotic. Your skin still tingled and buzzed wherever she left her mark. Her fingertips raked down your abdomen, stopping just short of your pubic bone. You fluttered your eyelashes as your breath caught in your throat. The Artist leaned towards your face once more, stopping just short of your lips. 

“...” 

She couldn’t speak, but her mouth mimicked the memory of the movement of speech. It was difficult to understand but it was something she only asked of you during intimate moments like this. Her lips parted in a thin line, came together, pursed, then apart and back together once more. 

Say my name… 

“C-Carmina…” 

A kiss.

Again.. 

“Carmina…”

Another. 

“Carmina… C-Carmina…”

Music to her ears. The Artist paints her way down the valley of your inner thighs, perfectly enhancing the curve of your legs as they meet your hips. You gasp as the ticklish sensation of her ink paints the soft edges of your sex but it is muffled as she kisses you once more. 

It only leaves a mark when she chooses it to. The Artist wouldn’t simply stop with your clothing, your skin, your hair… She needed to map your whole person, inside and out. Your mind, your soul, your heart… Your legs begin to twitch as she teases you with the possibility of her affection, only to pull it away as your need begins to manifest. She moved down your legs, from your knees to your calves, all the way down to your ankles and to the underneath of your feet. It tickles enough that you struggle to stifle your laughter and your arousal. 

How cute… 

Old memories scratched at the back of the Artist’s- of Carmina’s- mind. She used to hear laughter like that all the time, long, long ago… She could no longer find the form of the memory, only the vague impressions of it. It was enough to give her pause for a moment, but as she observed your body, the ghost of a smile at the corners of your eyes and your lips, Carmina- the Artist-  forgot what had caused her brief melancholy.

Your eyes widen as the Artist repositions your legs. Knees bent, she spread your legs open wide. A creeping warmth suddenly fills your core as you fight the urge to snap them shut. She’s looking at you so intensely…! It was so embarrassing… and arousing. You wish she would hurry up and touch you… It wasn’t fair to tease you so much! But she wasn’t done yet. 

The muscles of your abdomen jump and twitch as thick lines are slowly painted onto your skin. You suck in a breath and screw your eyes shut, your core tightening as tiny bolts of pleasure shoot through your body. How can such a simple sensation feel so good to you? The Artist finished her stroke and sat back on her haunches to admire her work. 

It was a shame she couldn’t photograph you… A part of her was saddened that she couldn’t hang you on a wall… that you couldn’t wear what she has painted on you forever, but she supposes that the ability to do it over and over again is fair compensation. She watched you worry your lower lip, the desire to make your face twist up in pleasure causing her nonexistent fingers to twitch and her own need to suddenly rise. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised by the Artist’s lips crashing against your own but her intensity left you breathless. Her lips parted and she pressed against you even harder. You knew what she wanted but it wasn’t enough. It’s not the same. You recoil then choke and gag as sticky ink fills your mouth. Bitter, metallic-! 

Surprise quickly morphs into panic. You can’t breathe-! You’re drowning! You involuntarily gulp but nothing slides down your throat. The Artist’s faux tongue made of ink wraps around yours tightly and squeezes it, pulling it so that it would stick out as she parted slightly from your lips. You barely had the opportunity to catch your breath before you lost it again. 

The brushing of smooth, flowing ink against your sex had your hips bucking against your control. But you were not reprimanded this time. The Artist needed to see how you experienced her. Your body was always honest even if your mouth would get confused at times… You gasped and moaned as perfectly dexterous tendrils of ink rubbed and rolled against all the sensitive places between your legs. 

“H-Huuaaa- EEEK!” You squealed as your most sensitive peak was fully enveloped. Somehow, the sensation of licking- or sucking- suddenly manifested, forcing your legs to stiffen and a pleasurable pulse to rise underneath the touch.

The Artist shuddered and crooned as she pulled back even further. The way your body twisted and jerked was stunning. Breathtaking… You have the potential to be her magnum opus, but not just one that she would merely finish, no, you would be ever evolving. Changing. The love she had for you would only grow with time, as would yours. 

She had brought attention to every detail of your body. Your curves, your slopes, things that you would consider ‘imperfect’, ‘undesirable’... She left your freckles, your moles untouched, unpainted, every mark, scar, spot… The Artist wanted to see it all. She wanted- no, needed- She needed to see everything that made you, you. She needed to hear your voice, how it breaks and keens and coos whenever she touches you in the way you like. She needed to feel your body, its softness, the hard edges, its texture and wetness… 

You flinch and arch your back as one of your breasts is grabbed. It was wet but nothing was left on your skin. The massaging motion was pleasant but you tried to back away from the touch in vain. It was too much all at once! Your tongue and your chest and your-! It felt as though some invisible string was about to snap inside of you. You suddenly gasp as your entrance is teased. 

“H-Huuuaaa- HUAEEE- H-HAA- AAHH…!~” 

Everything inside of you trembles and quakes as a burning warmth spreads through your pelvis. It’s- It’s tight! Your walls burn from the sudden intrusion but it doesn’t stop a wave of pleasure from crashing over you. The Artist’s mouth bumps against your own with enough force to bust your lip. Her teeth clatter against your own, sharp and unpleasant yet the desperation in the kiss has you feeling good. Again, you are nearly drowning in ink but the Artist manages to pull away before she pushes it too far. 

“H-HAAREENNA-! H-HA-HAREENA!!” 

It was as explosive as every time before it. She memorized every detail of your body, inside and out. What better way to show the love she has for you other than to show it to you over and over again? 

There was a part of her detested hiding you away, storing you as though you were a precious, shiny thing that has caught her and her flock’s eyes. Such a thing of beauty should be known, experienced by many instead of hoarded selfishly. Yet another, not so insignificant part of her couldn’t bear to share you with anyone else. No one knows you like she does. No one has seen you as she has. No one could understand you as she has… 

You were her living canvas, ever changing, ever growing, never the same as you were moments before but always growing more and more beautiful in the Artist’s eyes. She could trace over your body for hours, days, years, a lifetime and never grow tired of what she saw… One piece of artwork couldn’t do her love for you justice. Only the countless times that she has painted over you would suffice. They can’t be saved for posterity but the Artist didn’t need a physical reminder of those moments. Not when she has you and not when she can do this as many times as she would like…

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd the artist #dbd the artist x reader #carmina mora #paid commission #smut #yandere #possessiveness #slight dubcon

[hawnks]

Anise has never known herself to be one to cower. Certainly the idea that Jasper — goofy, innocuous Jasper— would cause this reaction in her was laughable. And yet…

She can’t catch her breath. As his fingers trace the crease of her cleavage, she finds herself wracked with panic, adrift with it, nigh hysterical. Unable to separate Jasper from the knowledge of what he is. A predator sits astride her.

He notices all of this, of course. Nothing about her ever slips past him. And yet, he doesn’t stop. As much as he wants to coddle her, dote on her, spoil her absolutely rotten, a part of him knows instinctively that what she needs right now is not sweetness.

“What’s the matter my love?” he murmurs coyly, drawing in close, letting his lips brush the shell of her ear. “Do you want to run?”

She swallows; he feels the motion of it against his hand. She takes a moment to gather herself, finding her voice somewhere in the tremor of her chest.

“You think I’m a coward,” she says, caustically.

Accusing him of the deepest, darkest fear she harbors. The judgement of others.

And, no, that won’t do at all.

With his free hand, he cups her chin, curls his fingers around her cheeks. Then, the slightest pressure, just enough to let her know that she can’t get away. That he would make her look.

So that she could see his blown out pupils, the unhinged curve of his smile. The way his fangs peek out, wanting. “On the contrary, darling,” he says. “I like the way you tremble.”

#jazz & anise #<3 #slight dubcon #vampire x human #this is where all my desires to write harlequin novels is going rn I guess #KSKDKDKD

[thepencilsnameissteve]

I should make a writing blog.

Anyways, here's a study in writing homos.

(aka an excerpt from a sci-fi story I'm working on that happens to be particularly gay, both the excerpt and the thing as a whole)

Tell me if you want me to share more of this story as it comes along I'd be happy to. It's an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for awhile.

"Ms. Amiens," Rosa turned around at the sound of William's voice.

"Yes?" William leaned in close, his mouth against Rosa's ear.

"Would you like to come up to my room?" Rosa barely caught his whisper, but as soon as it registered she had to resist the urge to jump for joy.

"I'd like for nothing more." A smile crept into her features, and it truly did reach her eyes. "Lead the way." Rosa held out her hand, and William took it delicately. She hadn't noticed before, but he was wearing gloves.

Up the stairs he went, Rosa in tow. Down the long hallway to the very large door. It slid open of its own accord, and shut behind them with a simple wave of William's gloved hand.

"Please, sit." William gestured to the bed. Rosa gathered her dress around her legs and carefully sat down on the mattress. There was a window on the other side of the bed, practically from floor to ceiling. It faced the courtyard. "Wine?"

"Yes, thank you." William walked over to a small bar on the opposite side of the large room.

"I only have red, I hope that's alright."

"That's just fine." Rosa watched William as he poured the drinks, back turned to her. She reached a hand under her skirt. Her gun was still there. She hooked a finger around it.

"You were asking about my business earlier, before we got interrupted," William spoke. Rosa's hand withdrew. If he was going to talk, well...

"Yes, I was. You were talking something about hackers." William turned around to face Rosa.

"Correct." Rosa waited for him to continue.

"Ms. Amiens, I deal in secrets," he strode over to the bed and set a wineglass on the nightstand next to Rosa.

She grabbed it, took a long sip, before speaking, "What do you mean?"

"The secrets of face-swapping. The secrets of the hackers who do it. The secrets of," he trailed off, smiling.

"Of?" Rosa's head tilted involuntarily.

"Of some people who you would be very familiar with."

"I haven't the faintest what you could-"

"Ms. Amiens, I know exactly who you are."  The smile disappeared all at once from William's face.

Rosa tried to move her hand, to reach the gun. She could not move.

"Ah, I know there's a gun under your dress. Don't worry, I put a fast-acting paralysing drug in your drink. You'll have all your mental faculties, but anything below your neck won't be able to move for," William checked his watch with an unnecessary flourish, "about half an hour."

"Bastard," Rosa spat.

"I could say the same to you. Is it Peoria?"

"Guess again."

"Ah, must be Roswell. I should've been able to recognise the tenacity."

"God, you are as insufferable as they say." Roswell gritted his teeth.

William's eyes crinkled up in glee, and he let out a small chuckle.

"Mind shedding the disguise? I'd love to speak face-to-face." William gestured to the form of Rosa Amiens. Roswell rolled his eyes.

"I'd love it just as much, but I'm paralysed."

William shook his head. He reached down and lifted Rosa's limp arm, turning it over until he found the small indentation in her forearm.

"Found it." William grabbed Rosa's other hand, pressed her index finger into the small sensor.

As William dropped Rosa's arms, her skin unfurled. A new form appeared before him.

A man, six foot in stature, with dark unkempt hair. His eyes were just as fierce, emeralds behind deep, olive skin.

"Rosa didn't have green eyes," William smirked.

"Yes, well, you know it's easier not to change-"

"Of course I know," William snapped. Roswell blinked a few times, startled. "Do you even know why you're here?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I know why I'm here."

William stood up off the bed, walked across the room to his dresser. He began to loosen his tie. His back was once again turned to Roswell, but try as he might, he could not move a muscle.

"Then why?" William spoke casually, tugging the tie off fully and hanging it off a drawer.

"I'm here to get the drive." William spun on his heel to face Roswell, leaning against the dresser behind him, arms crossed over his chest.

"Why?"

"You know damn well."

"I don't, enlighten me." William shrugged off his suit jacket, folding it with care and setting it down.

"It's dangerous. You can't be trusted with that kind of information."

"What, and the FSDI can?" William began to unbutton his shirt, and Roswell averted his eyes the best he could.

"Yes!"

"They don't even know what's on here." Roswell looked up. Only three buttons were undone, and out of a pocket sewn to the inside William had procured a small black box.

"Give that to me."

"Even you know that asking just won't work." William placed the drive next to his folded jacket. "Tell me, Roswell, how much do you know?"

"Enough."

"You really aren't one for talking, are you?"

"Not about sensitive government intel, no."

"Fine. Let me ask you something else." William walked until he was standing directly over Roswell.

Roswell craned his neck to look at the man.

"Did you kill Rosa Amiens yourself? Or was it one of the other government lapdogs?"

"We aren't lapdogs."

"Touchy subject. I take it that you were the one to pull the trigger then," William sighed. "I did like her. A shame. Her husband too?"

Roswell pursed his lips in defiance.

"Oh," Roswell was surprised to see a look of genuine sorrow cross the man's face. "He was a good man, you know. Worked for you. Or, well, some other division. I was never really sure."

The familiar smug look returned.

"Thank you for being so honest. But, if that's all you have, I'm afraid I'm going to have to throw you out that window over there." William reached for the button next to the pane, it swung outward into the night air. Faint voices of guests in the courtyard drifted up. Roswell gaped at him. "Oh, don't look at me like that, I know you'll recorporate at doggy daycare."

Roswell closed his mouth, but continued to glare.

"Sorry, I meant head offices."

"We'll get that drive."

"No, I don't think you will."

"I'm recording everything."

"I figured as much."

"We know what it looks like now."

"Yes, I'll have the data transferred to a new drive as soon as you leave. The original will be destroyed."

"We know everything about you. Every move you make, we see. You won't hide from us."

"I don't intend to. You're incompetent enough I don't have anything to worry about."

Ross wanted to lunge at the man. William was truly the most insufferable target he'd ever dealt with, and that was saying something.

"Don't look at me like you're about to pounce. I'm only telling the truth. If you had done half the research you say you have," William jabbed a finger into Roswell's chest. "You'd have shown up as Fabius Amiens instead. You killed the man, surely you saved his skin?"

Roswell actually was shocked at that revelation.

"But, you," he shook his head. "What about Yvette Mantura?"

"Come on, that was an obvious ruse. Yvette was always with Gaia. Anyone with eyes could see the chemistry between us was non-existent beyond platonic bounds."

"You are-"

"Insufferable? Yes, you already said that. Can we get to the throwing out the window part now?"

"I'm not leaving without the drive." Roswell was beginning to lose his temper with the man. He almost wanted to be thrown out the window. Despite the pain, at least it would be over. Then again, he didn't want to run to Varia with his tail between his legs and nothing to show for six months of work.

"I'm afraid you'll have to."

Roswell tried a different tactic.

"Do you know what they'll do to me if I show up empty handed?"

"Nothing. You're a top agent. You'll get scolded, filing duty for a week, and then you'll be doing the same thing as always." William finally rebuttoned his shirt. "Seems fair to me, considering you wasted a perfectly good night of mine."

"Doesn't have to be a waste if you give me the drive," Roswell breathed.

"Might be nice for you, but that just leaves me worse off than before," William countered.

"Then what about a quid pro quo?"

"Of what sort?"

"You give me the drive, I'm yours for the night."

"I'll pass. You're attractive, but I'm not stupid. And you still have a gun in your pocket. It's not in the fun way, either." William slipped off his gloves as he spoke, throwing them to the nightstand.

Roswell felt heat rising off the back of his neck.

"Just give me the goddamn drive!" He growled.

William leaned in, bending at the waist until his nose was only a centimetre from Roswell's. He could feel hot breath against his lips.

"No." Roswell wanted to punch the smile off his face.

William leaned forward more, pressed a kiss against Roswell's lips, brought a hand up to the back of his neck. The feeling of warm skin against his was unfamiliar to Roswell. Heat pooled high in his cheeks now, spreading down his chest. He felt his fingers twitching, like the paralysis had just begun to wear off.

Stunned breathless, Roswell didn't notice when he was promptly thrown out the window a moment later.

#slight dubcon #just a smooch tho #he does want it its just not explicitly stated #trust me its not that bad #they're enemies to lovers your honour #more like government agent and his target to lovers #okay these tags are getting out of hand #theyre just queer your honour #creative writing #writing #writblr #writeblr

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

A situation for Steve and Bucky, perhaps?

You and your partner are at a bar. You might have been invited, but you can't remember. All you know is that you had a couple of beers before you left, at your partner's instance, and now you're watching them chat with the person behind the bar, tossing wanton looks over their shoulder at you as if wanting to ensure that you're watching. Of course, you're watching. What else would you be looking at?

You're not drunk, or tipsy, but just a little warm, pleasantly so. You don't mind the loud music, pulsating warm bodies, or any other things that usually keep you away from bars like this. Partially because they invited you, but also because you're not entirely sober.

Plates get placed down on the table in front of you, making you jump slightly. A bartender smiles at you before she walks away. The plate is full of heavy, filling foods. Fried chips, greasy burgers served with bacon and cheese, multiple patties, an extra plate of nachos piled high with salsa and sour cream, and another plate that houses a large pizza dripping in grease.

For a fleeting moment, you don't think that you'll be able to finish it all, despite knowing that it's exactly what they want from you. But then there is weight against your back, and you smell their perfume, and they purr into your ear, "You're going to finish everything I give you tonight, and if you do, I'll make you feel so good."

You don't need any more encouragement. They put a glass of colourful alcohol down on the table, and you take deep measured sips. It's sweet, so sweet it makes your teeth ache, but you drink it down until you need to come up for air. The glass is already half-empty. You reach for the chips, and your partner disappears, leaving you to your own devices.

Throughout the night, drinks keep appearing on your table. Shot glasses filled to the brim and tall glasses with lots of ice and beers to wash the sweetness out of your mouth. You don't think about it. If you think about it too much, you won't be able to focus on the way you're slowly starting to forget how to sit upright, how you hardly remember to swallow before shoving more food in your mouth, how drool drips down your chin as you throw back the alcohol like it's water and swallow down mouthfuls of food without chewing. It all feels so good. Why would you ever want to stop?

You don't really notice when the cake gets brought in front of you, but you eat every slice with your bare hands, just like you've been eating everything else placed in front of you tonight. The thought of cutlery doesn't even pass through the fog in your mind. You're being a slob, embarrassing yourself in public. The dirtiness doesn't bother you- nothing bothers you at the moment. The room is swaying and the food is so damn good and all you want is more, more, more-

When they finally come back for you after doing who knows what for the rest of the night, you've finished all the food and finished all the drink. You're so full you couldn't stand if you tried, your hands permanently fixed on your swollen belly, and so drunk that you're having trouble remembering your own name. "Good, baby," they purr in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Somebody moaned. It might have been you. "Let's get you home, huh? We're not done yet."

They pretty much carry your entire weight out of the now too-small seat (you could have sworn that you fit in your seat against the table perfectly when you first sat down) and out of the bar. Your legs don't work, and you can't remember how to walk. What's your name? Where are you going? You're so full. You're hungry. They carry your entire weight- you're no help at all- and bustle you into the car, buckling you in. Your belly is huge. They have to move the seatbelt around the mass of you to buckle you in, and they caress your belly as they do so. You're so full. You can't even remember what you ate but you know it was a lot.

You don't know how long you drive, but when a warm paper bag smelling of rich, salty, greasy food is deposited in your lap with little more than a "Eat up, baby" you don't even think twice. You don't even open your eyes as you blindly shovel hot chips and burgers and nuggets into your mouth, barely bothering to unwrap them, moaning through a mouthful of food as each load lands in your already full stomach. Your parter laughs at you, sounding a little bit like they're far-away or underwater, and with the hand not currently on the steering wheel, they reach over and caress your belly, feeling its heft, enjoying its swell, loving how they can feel it grow more and more as you mindlessly shove fast food into your mouth. You need a drink. It's not enough.

You might fall asleep, but you don't remember. All too soon, you're being carried out of the car with hands under your armpits, and being dragged towards the front door. You try to help, but your knees give out from under you, and the ground won't stay in place, it moves and wavers and undulates, and you just want it to stay still damn it! You look down, and can't see your feet- your swollen belly is in the way. You might moan something- in pleasure, in pain, in frustration- but you can't be sure. You're too far gone for words, even if you could remember what the words were. They laugh at your struggle. Cooing as you cradle your belly like a pregnant mother as you continue your slow, aided, drunken waddle. You worry they might drop you- they don't drop you. They pat your belly, and mouth kisses against your neck, and it makes you swoon.

"Good job, baby," they rest a hand on your belly. How did you get inside? Why are you laying down? You vaguely remember another bottle being pressed against your lips earlier, more beer probably, cool and refreshing, and now you're laying down again. They're stradling you, their thighs bracketing you, their hands on your belly. Their hands are a blessing, a gift from god. They soothe any aches and pains you might have had, and they remind you of just how full you really are. It's amazing. "You've done so well. But we're not done yet."

You are too sloshed, too out of your mind, too black-out drunk to argue as the familiar end of the funnel is placed between your yielding lips, and your loving partner pours half-melted ice cream that tastes vaguely of brandy into your already engorged, bloated gut.

Not that you would have protested even if you could.

I-

I don't even have words for this. This is so. fucking. good. It could be Steve being the feeder and feedee Bucky, it could be Bucky being the feeder and Steve the feedee, it could just be read as a POV fic drabble, it could be anything and I would still be HERE FOR IT. Hnnnng. GODDAMN, ANON

Thank you for this. This is a MASTERPIECE.

#ask #belly kink #text #stuffing #beer bloat #bloating #intox kink #slight dubcon #funnel feeding #alcohol consumption

[violettaskies]

To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 3)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: the final part!! hope you enjoy // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible // please read chapters 1 and 2 if you want some more context and details, but if u just want smut then i totally get it lol this chapter is the one for u

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader's parents are religious, light manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink, masturbation, smut, slight dubcon //please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter one // chapter two // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

It was a kiss only the Devil knew: fierce and decidedly unvirginal, tasting like cigarettes and salty tears the moment Eddie’s mouth was on yours. What had only been a fantasy to him for years, just became reality, and he didn’t know how to react. This was something he would think about nearly every second of the day — from times you would apply lip gloss on while looking in your locker mirror, to the way you bit the same shiny lips during the day if you found something he did funny. Getting to kiss you was a blessing and Eddie was going to let you know that. 

His lips were soft, only moving gently at first so you could get used to the feeling. You swear the kiss took over your entire body, because now you were grabbing Eddie’s hair to pull him closer. Everything within you wanted more, but the lingering guilt from your confession came back just as you felt his soft tongue lick your bottom lip. 

“E-Eddie,” you breathed out, letting go from his vice grip for a moment. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing,” the man teased before stroking your neck to guide you towards his lips again. You nearly gave in, but the guilt took over. 

“We can’t, this is wrong my parents are upstairs and they might —”

“Do you want to stop?” Eddie cut you off, and the deepness of his voice resonated through your body. 

“No, I don’t.” With that, you made the first move to kiss him now, tilting your head upwards to join your lips together. No matter how wrong this was, no matter how many times your family and friends said that there was no dating or kissing boys ever — you didn’t care. The Angel on your shoulder wanted this too. 

Eddie’s lips lingered on yours for a few moments, peeking his tongue through to see if you would understand what he was trying to do. Then, with one stroke down your spine, where he knew you would tingle, you gasped, letting his tongue in. It felt strange, but soft, as he explored for a few seconds before you tried to follow. 

“Is this French kissing?” you whimpered between kisses. 

“Yes, it is.” Eddie began to leave a trail with his mouth from your cheek down to your neck. “How do you know about that? I thought you were a good girl.” 

“I am, a-aah good girl,” you moaned loudly as he started to lick and suck against your pulse. “I read it in a magazine accidentally.” 

“Accidentally?” he whispered into your neck with a slight chuckle, while holding your body so he could guide you to lay down with your head on the left armrest. 

You started to feel lightheaded as he continued kissing your neck and stroking up and down your body. “Yes, it was at my friend’s house during a sleepover.”

“Did you like it?” he teased, looking you straight in the eye again. You nodded, then grasped the front of your friend’s shirt to pull him down to kiss you again. 

Eddie could see that you were nervous, but the talking was helping you relax as each moment passed. So much so, that the new position of you laying down made it so your legs had more of an opportunity to unknowingly rub against each other. He wondered if you realized just how much you were whimpering and moaning into his mouth, and especially if you recognized the denim-clad hardness rutting against your thigh. 

After a few minutes of sweet kisses between the two of you. Some where he would need to hum into your mouth to get you to slow down, Eddie went to shift both your bodies slightly so he could lay on his side with his head on the arm rest with you — his back to the plush of the sofa. He couldn’t help but smile at the heat that kept rising to your cheeks as you eagerly tried to deepen the kiss. 

“This feels so nice, Eddie,” you tried to whimper as quietly as possible so your parents still thought you two were working on the project. With soft lips, Eddie tried to get you to slow down and loosen the grip on his shirt. 

“Yeah?” he slowly kissed the side of your mouth then moved his head back to look you in the eye while stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

“And we aren’t sinning right now, right?” You look up at him nervously. 

“No, nothing too naughty is happening right now,” he chuckled while going down to meet your foreheads together. 

“But, I’m feeling the same way I did all those nights, Eddie. What if—”

He tilted his head towards you again, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. “Don’t feel guilty for such a beautiful thing you can’t control.”

His words were always so kind to you. Even now as you began to release a tear or two out of your nervousness, Eddie was able to wipe them and soothe the shivers you did in his arms. “I w-want more. But, we shouldn’t — I shouldn't — Eddie, please help me with my sins.” 

“Thought you’d never ask,” he smiled as he saw the way you kept clenching your thighs together at the pleasure only a few minutes of kissing gave you. Eddie went to linger on your lips again, drinking your moans, and tasting the remnants of the strawberry lipgloss you enjoyed so much. While you tugged the hair on the back of his head every time you felt a strong wave of pleasure. 

As you opened your lips to draw a breath, he took that chance to taste you with his tongue quickly, before moving down to whisper sweet nothings into your neck. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? How I longed for the moment I got to kiss an Angel, only to find out she’s been making herself come every single night for weeks?” Eddie said on your pulse as his hands roamed your back and thighs. “Maybe I do believe in God.” 

“What do you mean?” You whispered, not realizing how his mouth was leaving marks all over your neck. 

“I’ve dreamed about this for years. Now that I have you in my arms, begging for me to sin with you — there’s a part of me that thinks I’m still asleep,” he recited as he kissed his way up to your mouth again, wanting you to inhale his love through the words. Then, he moved his hands on your left knee, before trying to stroke his way up your inner thigh. 

“Sometimes I dream about you too,” you blushed at the thought that the basement confessional was still ongoing. “Then I think of your nice touches all over my body and how it makes me tingle because I want more. Just like how you’re doing now.” 

Eddie touched the sides of your thighs, massaging slowly, only going underneath the hem of your skirt for a moment before going back down to the already exposed skin. “Like this?” You nodded with a whimper in response. “How about something like t-this?” He said through gritted teeth, right as he squeezed the plush of your bottom. 

“Y-yeah, once in a while,” you shyly admitted. “I thought it would feel good if you touched me there. It does.” 

“Good to know, sweetheart.” Eddie smiled to himself. “Do you want me to do more?” Although every cell in his body wanted to commit a plethora of sins with you, he knew this was probably the most traumatic and overwhelming past few days for you. He wanted you to say that you needed to do this with him. 

“What were you thinking? I think if you helped me like I help myself, it would be weird.” He tilted his head out of confusion. “I don’t want you to move a pillow beneath me,” you said the words with such innocent eyes that Eddie couldn't help but kiss your nose before speaking again. 

“Like I said before, I could do all the work on your pretty little pussy. I can do so much more than a pillow, baby. That’s what friends — best friends — are for, to help each other when they need it.” Eddie began to move his fingers to the front of your thighs, right underneath your skirt, inching his way closer and closer to your cotton panties. “We can pretend that I’m your pillow.” 

You giggle at the idea, heat flooding in your face out of sheer embarrassment. “But pillows are soft, you’re hard.” 

“Y-yeah, so fucking hard,” Eddie giggled alongside you, but he found your unknown innuendo cute. After one last kiss to your lips, he left you alone at the armrest to lay above your stretched out figure. His hands were moving everywhere, nearly distracting you from the way his leg was stroking yours as you slowly opened them. 

The plush of your thigh brushed up against his hardness when you felt Eddie squeeze your butt again. He groaned into your mouth then shot up to sit in front of you — your right leg in between both of his knees. As he looked at you with fire in his eyes and swollen lips, something awoke in you. Eddie, your friend for the past few years was basically eating you alive, and you didn’t want it any other way. As his eyes made a trail from your panting lips all the way down to your thighs, you started to feel self-conscious at the fact that he might be able to look up your skirt. 

Even if his hands have been up them for half the night. 

To him though, you looked like an Angel looking up at him: lips quivering, thighs unknowingly squeezing together, and your eyes brimming with tears at the pleasure you’re feeling. Even your voice sounded equally as beautiful and Angelic to his ears. 

“So, Eddie, are you gonna help me?” you looked at him whilst biting your lip and pushing your skirt down at how exposed you feel. 

“Am I going to help you sin?” he waited for you to nod slightly before continuing. “Of course I am. But I’ve been helping you this whole time, haven’t I? Making your body tingle just the way you like it before you start to sin in bed, huh?” Eddie never looked away from your eyes as he said the words while trying to pry your thighs apart by leaving featherlight touches on them. Once they were spread wider than they have tonight you gasped. 

“It’s too much now, everything feels a lot more intense than when I’m alone though,” you whimpered out as you let go of holding down your skirt, and let Eddie trace patterns in your inner thigh underneath the tartan pattern. 

“Trust me, that’s a good thing,” his hand squeezed your thigh tightly before he brought himself lower to kiss you. While you found yourself sitting up, craving his lips on yours, and meeting him in the middle. As Eddie kissed you deeply and started to rock his hardness on your thighs lightly, he moaned at the feeling. It wasn’t the right angle though, so the man held you tightly before pushing your back onto the armrest so you were sitting up at an angle. 

“Are you feeling that way too?” You question him between kisses since he started moving so much quicker than before. “Eddie?” The moan came out involuntarily. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m definitely feeling that way.” An idea popped inside his head. “You said you put your pillow right here, huh?” The Dealer lifted your skirt slightly so his fingers could find a wet spot on your cotton panties; but Dear Lord, the whole thing was nearly drenched as he felt it. “And that feels good right?”

You nodded, looking back and forth from his eyes to where his hand was placed. “Y-yes, it feels nice every time I—” a loud yelp left your throat as Eddie started to stroke slow circles right above where your hardened nub was. “What are you doing?” you whispered while biting your lip to stop you from moving your hips forward for more. 

Eddie swooped down to capture your lips with a smile one last time before placing himself to sit between your legs, ensuring both of your thighs were on top of his before speaking. “This, my sweet girl, is what you’ve been rubbing against, it can make anyone scream if you hit it just right.” He continued rubbing slow circles on the cloth-covered clit, making you mewl at the touch. 

“It feels different now, with your f-fingers,” you felt Eddie lift your skirt up fully, showing him the baby blue panties you put on this morning. The exact same colour he saw you wear during that homecoming dance years before, and swore you were an Angel sent to earth for him. 

Heat flooded to your face out of embarrassment of being so much more exposed to your friend now more than ever. “Look how wet you are, if we aren’t careful, we’re gonna ruin your dad’s nice couch.” 

“Let’s ruin it then,” you couldn’t think before speaking, all you could focus on was how nice Eddie’s fingers felt, adding more pressure every time you bucked your hips forward at him. 

“Such a bad girl, sinning in your parents' house every night. Now you’re doing it with the Devil, begging him to commit the sins for you — does that make you feel good?”

“You make me feel good.”

If Eddie knew you had such a mouth on you, he would’ve been playing with you in this way so much sooner. 

He decided to forget that thought, and memorize how you looked in the present. He was enchanted by all of you and the way his Angel could be so bad, just for him. Only for him. Eddie wanted to see you come undone in the same way you’ve been doing yourself for nights — only this time, he wanted to be the one to help get you there. 

So he continued playing with your clit over the cotton panties, flicking up and down, or using two fingers to pinch it: which he found out you really enjoyed. While the other hand played with the waistband, snapping it to get you out of your blissful haze. “Do you ever take these off when you really can’t sleep?” 

“Sometimes, b-but not all the time. I find the pillow gets too wet if I do.” No man has ever wanted to be an inanimate object so bad in their entire life, until Eddie heard those words come out of your lips. 

“F-fuck,” he muttered at the thought, the tightness of his jeans making itself known because of his growing hardness. “Can we take it—”

“No,” you exclaimed while sitting yourself up to grab his shirt’s neckline. “That would be bad, my parents said I should never show it to anyone.” 

“I’m not just anyone, am I?” Eddie kissed you sweetly while holding your face with the hand that was on your panty’s waistband a moment ago. Then guided you back down to lay on the couch again, whilst he followed. “But, that’s okay, we are still going to have fun, if you still want to.” 

“I-I do, please. Can you do that thing some more?” you begged while moving your hips towards the hand of his that was still locked on your wetness. 

Eddie couldn't take it. You were begging, squirming, and whimpering below him for so long that every small movement was felt from his hand to the front of his jeans. So he let go of his hold on your core, causing a whimper of sadness to escape your throat, before he spoke again. “There’s something I want to try. I promise it’ll help you and I feel so good.” 

You could see the desperation in his eyes for the first time tonight. Eddie was going to help you tonight by helping you fall asleep soundly after he does the sinning for you — so why not help him in return? It’s a nice thing to do, right? “Will it be anything bad?” 

“No, Angel, nothing bad at all, it will just be me. Just like I said before, your pretty little pussy won’t need to do a thing — you’ll be sinless tonight, pinky promise.” Eddie holds out his finger in front of your face, knowing full well he lied; however, if it means that you could be happy at least once today, he would do anything. 

“Then, alright,” you join your own pinky with his, before you both kiss your hands simultaneously. “What did you want to try?” 

Eddie coughed loudly making you both giggle then shush him. “Well, tonight I could be your pillow in a way. Just imagine we’re in your bed in the middle of the night and you grab that big stuffed bear I know you have.” 

“I don’t see how that could possibly help you though. Normally, I just use Mr. Honey’s button nose or leg.” The confession came out of you so easily that it even shocked you for a moment once it was blurted out. “Does that mean you’re going to look at my —”

“No, no, no, you said you didn’t want to show me so that’s alright. I was thinking you could use a different part of me than that toy,” Eddie took a moment to stroke your sides as he went to sit up again. Your panties were still on display to him, the wetness still seeping through. If only he could be your bear and use his nose on you too. 

But now, he started to unbuckle his belt, the silver metal making echoing noises through the basement. Then when Eddie untucked his white shirt from his grey jeans, you saw a glimpse of the defined stomach, and hair leading towards the bottom. Something deep down began to throb, just like how you felt those nights right before you had to sin. Unsure of what to do, you moved your hips so your thighs would squish together and offer you some relief. 

Eddie was just about to start pulling down his denim, when he heard you moan. He looks away for one second, and your body was already begging for more. 

“You naughty girl, I haven’t even taken off any clothing yet and you’re turned on.”

“What do you want to do, Eddie? Please, tell me.” You ignore his comment and reach for his thigh to help him in his conquest of trying to give you a seductive strip tease.

“Needy, needy. I thought you said you don’t want to sin, sweetheart?” 

“B-but I haven’t sinned in three days,” you quietly started to sob. “You need to do it for me, I need you, Eddie.”

His cock was really about to peek out of his boxer brief waistband now. Your friend could feel the precum leaking on the cotton, wondering how it would feel to get your wetness on it instead. So he ripped off his pants quickly before diving down to kiss your tears. “I know, we’ll get you there soon, promise. Can you open your legs a bit more for me, pretty girl?”

You did as he asked, your sobs subsiding as you felt pleasure again from the feeling of his fingers circling your clothed clit again. “Why did you take off your pants?” You breathed out. 

“You see how you’re so wet now, huh? Practically dripping all over my fingers just from one touch?” Eddie grabbed your right hand to gently place it on his stomach then drag it down to his achingly hard cock. “Well, this is how my body reacts to you and everything you’ve been doing tonight. So fucking beautiful, laying here in your pretty skirt — moaning my name any chance you got. It’s music to my ears, and my cock,” he chuckled out. 

The heat rose to your face quickly at the words, but then curiosity took over your mind, as you released your hand from his to squeeze the top of what he said you did to him. “We learned about this in health class,” you giggled as he started to groan above you. 

Eddie had to balance himself on the back of the couch since you were squeezing and rubbing your thumb against his head at all the right angles. The man could have finished right there if he didn’t remember that you were the one who really needed the help here. 

“What you’re touching r-right now, is the head, a-and fuck,” he wasn’t able to contain his moans now, nearly thrusting into your hand with each word. “It will feel good for you too if w-we just move positions a little.” 

“Are you in pain, Eddie?” 

“No, baby, your hand just feels really nice, like how you reacted to my own.” Truly, the man was in pain, the blood rushing through his cock was unbearable at the moment. So Eddie quickly held your face to start kissing you again, a feeling you both missed over the past few minutes. Then he moved his body downwards slightly, ensuring that your skirt was flipped up, and your cores were touching. The drenched cotton barrier added more pleasurable friction than you both would have thought. 

The stark contrast between your baby blue panties, to his black and red boxers, was such a beautiful juxtaposition. Representing the both of you, so different, yet still so complimentary. There was a reason why the Devil and Angel always stood at people’s shoulders, telling them what was right from wrong. They couldn’t stay away from one another — like you and Eddie have been since you began this friendship. 

“So this is what I felt earlier, I thought it was your leg,” you smiled into the kisses as your hands made a trail to reach for his mane. 

“That big, huh?” Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle before placing his lips on your pulse to make more marks. 

“Is it supposed to be this big? Is that a good thing?” 

“For some people, it’s a good thing. What about you?” He thrusted his hips upwards, applying pressure to your needy clit — making you gasp at the pleasure. 

After a momentary shock, you moved your hips like you normally do every night. But instead, it was on something that felt so much nicer against your folds than the sometimes too-soft pillow. “I think I like it big. So it fits on m-my sensitive place like a puzzle piece.” 

“You like how it feels, huh? It’s like your pussy is begging for more, Princess.” Eddie continued to rock against you, trying to find the rhythm that made you whimper louder with each move. 

“I do want more, please,” you moaned loudly as you felt Eddie’s hands move beneath your sweater. 

“So polite for me,” he said with gritted teeth, thrusting onto you harder. “Remember, baby, I said I would do all the work so you don’t need to do any sinning yourself, right?” 

You nodded quickly — only wanting him to continue talking to you with his teasingly deep voice, and use his hard cock on you all night. “S-sorry, I forgot. It just feels so-ahh.” Your friend started to massage your breasts under your sweater with one hand, flicking and squeezing your nipple to make you whimper more. 

“Shhh, keep your voice down. Your parents might hear that you’re sinning with the Devil. I don’t want you getting in more trouble this week.” Your pussy was sopping now, pulsing against the underside of his cock every few moments. The things he would do if he was able to be inside of you now. 

His voice, his fingers on your hard nipples, his mouth leaving kisses from your lips to your neck, his member hitting you at every perfect angle imaginable — you swear it was overwhelming. The feelings were so intense that you could nearly see stars as everything worked in tandem to get you closer and closer to your climax. No pillow would do you justice now. If you could have Eddie over every night to help sin for you, so that you would sleep like a rock afterwards: then you would be the most well-rested individual on this planet. 

“I like it when you tell me what to do,” you thought out loud. “That’s what I thought about all those nights I sinned,” if he said he was going to be your pillow, then you were going to tell him what it was like to be the feathery case. 

“Oh yeah?” He wasn’t able to comprehend the music in his ears. 

“Y-yes, like the voice you use when you ask me to pick something up for you, or to get into the car quickly. It’s so sweet but stern.” Eddie began to kiss you again, distracting you so he could easily bend your left leg higher, changing the angle he was thrusting against you with. The new position allowed his sensitive head to go from your entrance to your clit, so much better than what any pillow could do.

“Did you imagine that I was telling you what to do while you rode that pillow?” 

Eddie kept looking between your eyes and the place where your bodies met, making you look down as well. You moaned at the sight, everything was so slippery, and the pressure on your heat was so strong. You wished you could roll your hips with him, but it was too overwhelming to think about sinning some more. 

“Uh-huh,” you whimpered out. “And your hands too, guiding me to move faster and faster — just like now. I imagine all those times you helped me fix my skirt. You’re so nice to me, Eddie.” You kept your eyes on his as he smiled while drinking up your moans with his lips. “I wish you were there to help me get rid of my body aches every time.” 

“I do too, sweetheart. Every night I could’ve made you live out those fantasies. Like holding your hips to make you slow down,” Eddie did with his own movements in real life. “Or maybe I could grip even harder and move your pussy so much faster for you. It would leave bruises that will probably never heal.” 

“That’s okay,” you screamed as he started to kiss the tears that unknowingly left your eyes, while rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit. “I don’t want them to.” 

“You’re so wet for me, soaking your panties all this time, and you never told me. No pussy this beautiful should ever go deprived of what it wants most.” Eddie kissed down your neck and sat up on his knees again, anchoring himself a lot better now to massage your legs — a move you’ve been loving all night. 

He goes to touch your wetness with his fingers too, in between thrusts. Collecting some of it, then licking his fingers to get a taste of the sweet nectar he has always craved. “What are you doing?” You ask, his movements causing your insides to throb around nothingness. 

“Just having a taste,” Eddie nearly moans his words, memorizing the look of lust that filled your eyes as you watched him lick his fingers. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment since the day our lockers were placed next to each other. You were so beautiful with your hair that smelled so sweet, and t-these fucking skirts,” he said through gritted teeth, thrusting onto you slowly so he didn’t climax before you did tonight. 

“Your favourite is the one I have on now right? You always told me at some point during the day.” But, not today — you wanted to add. But everything he was doing to you now was more than compliment enough. 

“So short, so bouncy. I would ask you to pick things off the floor just so I can get a glimpse of whatever panties you were wearing.” 

“You're a pervert,” you giggled and moaned, trying to stroke your fingers up and down his stomach.

“And a sinner, baby, that’s why we’re here.” 

The man began to lift your sweater to show the planes of your stomach, making you gasp in the process once the cold air hit you. “Eddie, don’t take it off, please,” you pouted. 

“Sorry, I just want to see them quickly, is that alright?” You nodded before he continued his movements. “Do you ever touch these, all those nights you sinned?” 

You bit your lip at the topic of sinning again. “Yes, but only sometimes when I was lying down.” Right then, Eddie lifted your sweater just above your breasts, while simultaneously pushing the cups of your bra down so he could get a look at the hardened nipples. This is going to be an image he would remember forever: your heat nearly swallowing his hardness, your whimpers as you spoke, and the bounce of your tits with each one of his thrusts. Then there was the small crucifix that found its way between your breasts from all the twisting and turning tonight — you really were about to become the death of him. 

Your self-consciousness came back as you saw him pause to stare at you for a few moments, so you moved one of your arms to cover up. 

“You look so pretty like this, don’t be shy now.” He placed a hand on your wrist to shift it to the side, as he wanted to massage your breasts slowly again tonight. Your moans only became louder, not caring if your parents would hear. But, Eddie cared, so he kissed you to simmer down your noises. 

“Eddie,” you breathed out between a kiss. “Your mouth feels so nice on my neck, do you think it would feel good on my —”

You didn’t get the chance to finish the question of your curiousty before Eddie latched his lips on your left nipple. He licked and sucked one with his mouth, while he massaged the other with his large hands. It always felt best when he bit your nipple harshly every time you thrust your hips upwards to grind in tandem with his — he would say it’s your mini punishment for not letting him do all the sinning for you. But, you ask yourself again for what feels like the millionth time tonight: how could something that’s supposed to be bad feel so good? 

“You have the most beautiful tits, fuck,” Eddie breathed out while licking the pebbled nipples. “I always knew they would be gorgeous,” right then, he sucked on the skin hard enough to leave the newest mark on your skin, claiming you as his. 

“I think something is happening,” you moaned out, grasping on his hair to pull him closer to your flesh. 

The new combination of his lips on your chest, both of your cores rubbing against each other at the perfect angle, and one of his hands stroking up and down your sides to your thighs — made for your insides to start clenching towards something familiar. 

“You gonna come? I know you can do it, sweet girl. This is what you wanted for the past three days,” Eddie tried to contain himself, the excitement of your impending orgasm overtaking his body. He knew it was coming, since you would squeeze your thighs together and your cunt would throb every few thrusts. Your crying only made him want to release alongside with you. 

“Do you feel good, too, Eddie? I want to—” tears were streaming down your face now at the pleasure. 

“Don’t worry about me, trust, f-fuck,” he whimpered at how you got even wetter around him. So he focused his head on your clit again, going up to kiss your lips as you were about to reach your bliss. 

Once his hands were on your hips, gripping so hard that it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow, you felt yourself moan loudly into his mouth. The familiar feeling of relief was slowly getting to you now. Eddie moved faster and faster, finding the perfect rhythm where the friction of the fabric and his cock was massaging your folds beautifully. Then there was the way the fabric of his shirt felt against your sore breasts — adding to the way he was making your entire body shake.

With one last searing kiss, and you both moving your hips in tandem to the other, you came. Your pussy throbbing harshly, causing a loud whimper to escape your throat. For so many weeks you’ve been moaning into your pillow, biting your lip until it bled, or breathed deeply instead of making a noise. But with Eddie, you were able to let go, letting him hear just how much you loved his sinning for you. 

“Such pretty noises, baby,” Eddie says between kisses. “Does my cock feel good on you? Did I make you come?” 

“Y-yes, Eddie,” you cried out before whimpering again at the feeling of him above you moving with more pressure. With the sound of his name leaving your lips, it was time for Eddie to come undone.

So he did.

Moving harder against your now overly sensitive clit and folds. He knew you could take it, after relieving yourself multiple times a night in the past. The Dealer hissed as he released his seed inside his boxers, thrusting slowly as he let go completely. 

“So good for me, fuck, I’ve dreamed about this moment for so damn long.” Eddie’s voice was deep as he touched his forehead on yours. 

You both moved your hips slowly as you got down from your highs. He moved his hand to your face, wiping away some tears that he loved so much. “That was so much better than every single time I’ve used my pillow combined,” you breathed out quietly, your eyes nearly closing at the exhaustion of the entire day. 

“Next time, you’re gonna show me how you sin. Are you gonna invite me into your bedroom, sweetheart?” he teased. 

“N-no, that’s not allowed,” you said in slight panic, “I promised not to sin anymore, and my parents don’t let anyone come in my room.”

Eddie chuckled at your words, since you didn’t realize how you would have confessed to a priest about your transgressions if you weren’t so convinced that he did all the sinning for you; and the innuendo you added in at the end. “That’s too bad,” Eddie pouted with big eyes, jokingly. 

“Uh-hm, but maybe, if I ever feel the urge to want to be naughty then I’ll ask you to help me, since it helped you so much too, and that’s what friends do,” you sweetly repeated his words from earlier tonight. It made his heart feel warm, while it made Eddie’s brain and cock think about the next time this would happen. So, with a wide smile on his face, he kissed your lips deeply before making a trail of soft kisses down your neck and crumpled sweater. 

“So you want to do it again?” Eddie emphasized his question by fixing your clothing, but also thrusting up slowly one last time. 

You nodded, biting your lip while whimpering slightly at the movement. “Yes, I do,” you both wanted so badly to continue what just happened — whether it was tonight or for everyday for the rest of your lives, you didn’t care. 

“I’ll help you sin any time, sweetheart,” Eddie continued to place chaste kisses all over your face and neck. But just as you were about to moan as a response, the worst thing that could happen, did. 

The door to the basement opened loudly, with the sound of footsteps walking down the stairs following. You and Eddie looked at each other in a panic. He jumped off you quickly, grabbing his pants to throw on, not knowing where his belt was; but he didn’t care, there was no way your mother was about to catch him half-naked. She would probably throw holy water on him if she had the chance. 

On the other hand, you stood up from the couch after him, your legs feeling extremely wobbly as you began to walk towards the table you both were working on all night. Each step made you feel wetness that accumulated throughout the night, and you were so sensitive that the movement would make a quiet squelching sound. Once you finally stood at the table, whilst fixing your hair and reapplying lip gloss to your swollen mouth — your mother appeared, standing at the bottom of the stairs and looking out to you.

Her eyes darted from you standing at the table, looking slightly exhausted, to Eddie seated at the couch, his back to her and it looked like he was rummaging through his backpack. What hardworking students these two are, she thought — since it looks like you two were finished with the project and just wanted to wrap it up for the night. 

“How’s the project? I was just getting ready for bed and I saw Mr. Munson’s van still in the driveway,” she said with a slight yawn. 

“Yes, mom, we just finished working. Eddie and I just had to help each other on one thing before he had to go.” It wasn’t exactly a lie — but he was smirking from the couch to see how easily the little cover up was flowing out of your mouth. “Because that’s what friends do,” you whispered to yourself, but Eddie was able to hear the giggly tone. 

“Alright then, why don’t I help you clean up?” 

“No it’s alright, it should only take a few minutes—”

Eddie coughed once he got his pants quietly secured. “Honestly, I’m very good with my hands so it should be quick,” he said with a teasing smile and a wink in your direction. Although you were easily able to cover up the activities you two did a few minutes ago, there was no hiding how heat rose to your face at Eddie’s words. 

“Well, if the two of you are alright, then I guess I’ll just head to bed then,” your mother looked at you one last time to confirm if you needed help or not. 

“I’ll see him out when we’re finished, thank you, mom.” The sweet smile on your face was enough to make her head to bed with contentment. But, the smile quickly became more and more sinister as each step up the stairs got quieter. When the door was finally shut again, your legs were shaking out of anticipation, unsure if you were able to say the next set of words. So you turned to face Eddie again, thighs squeezed shut to subdue the ever present ache after your orgasm. 

The Devil and Angel on your shoulders were resting hand in hand now. Not nagging or taunting you every second in your head, telling you what was right from wrong, teasing you with what you should and shouldn’t want. Now, it was clear that there was a fine line between what was the holy thing to do and what wasn’t, because why would God make something so bad feel so good?

And so, with lust in your eyes and sinister swollen lips, you whispered loudly enough for it to echo along the walls of the basement and into Eddie’s eager ears, as he casually sat on the arm rest whilst staring at your ever-glowing figure. 

“Do you want to sin for me one more time before you go?” 

It was that night you realized: Sundays were for confession, Mondays were for committing your sins all over again.

-:-:-:-:-

taglist: @bbyhargrove // @delightfulwinnerdiplomatpalace // @littlemrsmunson // @lolalanaie // @nope-thanks

#eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female character #Eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson x innocent!reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie munson x innocent!reader #friends to lovers #dacryphilia #slight dubcon #ST fics #ST fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #ST #Catholic!reader #catholic trauma #religious trauma #Eddie munson x Catholic!reader #Eddie munson x religious!reader #my fics #my writing #best friend!eddie #to share a kiss the devil has known

[hello-nichya-here]

What if Zuko wanted Azula's first time to be anal.

That depends on what kind of relationship they have.

If they're enemies with benifits/love-hate relationship, then Azula is gonna say no... and then one random night, either Zuko is gonna for "surprise anal" and she will let him despite being all indignant, or as riding him, she'll just go "fuck it", get up from his cock, then put it in her ass.

If they have a more normal relationship, she'll just say she prefers it not to be her first sexual experience and they'll do it some other time.

If they're full codependency mode, she's saying yes right away because they want to please each other all the time.

#asks #zucest #not safe for what #slight dubcon

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Babygirl

PAIRING | Chris Evans x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.8K

SUMMARY | Chris threw a party, but you do not remember anything when you woke up the following day. Not only are you not in the guest bed you were supposed to occupy, but you wake up in Chris' arms after a steamy night. He helps you piece everything together, and your dynamic shifts in a way you're delighted with.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, friends to FWB, use of pet name (Babygirl), swearing, brief mentions of vomit, slight dub-con/non-con if you squint, smut (handjob, fingering, unprotected sex - wrap it before you tap it!).

A/N | This is requested by the amazing @cevansbaby-dove, for which I can not thank you enough! This man is absolutely amazing, and I can never get enough of your sweet requests for him 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

You wake up in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped in a pair of strong arms, your head lying on a warm, firm chest with a smell that is very familiar to you. When you slowly open your eyes and lift your head, you look at Chris' face.

''How the fuck did I end up here?!'' you whisper to yourself as you try and scramble out of his grip, but he only seems to hold on tighter as he sighs softly.

You close your eyes again as you try to piece together what happened last night, but somewhere after your 5th or 6th drink, you're not sure, and your memory is very fragmented.

All you know is that you got way too drunk and somehow ended up in bed with him, and you secretly hoped nothing had gone down between the two of you, but one lift of the comforter showed you all you needed to know.

You're both very naked; he is also very hard right now.

''Hmm, you like what you see, Babygirl?'' Chris says with a deep voice, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as you look up at him with a worried look.

''Did I-, I mean we- us- Did we...?'' you stumble as you sit upright, clinging to the comforter to your chest as you try to piece everything together, which isn't easy with the raging hangover you're currently faced with.

Your head feels like it's throbbing uncontrollably, and you squeeze your eyes shut as a wave of nausea washes over you, trying your hardest not to throw up all over his bed.

''Oookay, Babygirl, let's get you into the shower and some aspirin in you,'' Chris says as the wave of nausea dies down, and when you open your eyes, the world is spinning, and your head throbbing worsens.

In a reflex, he grabs a trash can on the side of his bed, and you clutch it tightly as it feels like your inside is coming out through your mouth, vomiting out what seems like an endless stream of everything you had to eat and drink last night.

Chris rubs his hand softly up and down your back, soothing you through your emotions, and the tears fall down your cheeks as you let out an undeniable sob as a sharp pain shoots through your head.

''C'mere,'' he says as he slowly pulls you into his arms, not to disturb you any further now that you feel like this.

You keep sobbing, and it worsens the pain, which only pushes you to keep crying more, and you end up in a vicious cycle of pain and tears.

''Shh, calm down, Babygirl, you're okay. You're doing well for me,'' he whispers into your hair between soft kisses, and eventually, your sobs die down to quiet sniffles, all while Chris still holds you close.

''Shall we take a shower?'' he asks, and you look at him with wide eyes, unsure if you should do it. It's not that you don't want to do it, but wouldn't it change everything between you two? But then again, last night already changed everything in your dynamic.

''A-are you sure...? I mean-''

''I'm sure, Babygirl. But only if you want it, too. I can't get enough of you now that I've had a taste,'' he purrs into your ear, and your stomach feels leaping.

He slowly lays you down to prepare the shower and returns with some aspirin and a water bottle, urging you to drink something to get you hydrated.

After the medicine has settled in for a bit, you're slowly getting up with Chris' help, and he guides you to the bathroom and into the warm stream of the shower.

You groan as the warm water envelops your body, making Chris' dick twitch at the sound. After last night, he can't get enough of hearing your sweet sounds, and he plans on pulling so many more from you.

He steps in behind you as he closes the curtain of his shower, and you can feel him crowding your space right until you can feel his hands roaming over your arms and sides.

''Chris, what are you doing?'' you ask, a little unsure, though you would lie to yourself if you didn't enjoy him touching you.

''Shh, just let it happen Babygirl. I'm not going to hurt you, and if you feel uncomfortable, you can always use your safeword,'' he whispers, and you nod before giving yourself over to Chris and his touches.

''B-But we should talk afterward,'' you say as you turn around and look up at him.

''We will, but first, I will make you feel better, Babygirl. Orgasms are supposed to help with headaches, after all,'' he says as he nuzzles into your neck, and you lull your head to the side to give him the access he's looking for.

''Please, kiss me,'' you whine a little, and Chris is more than happy to oblige as he steps closer to your body, his now fully hard member poking against your abdomen.

His lips find yours in a sweet kiss that takes your breath away, but your hand slides between your bodies and wraps around him, making him grunt before you slowly move your hand up and down.

''Fuck, Babygirl,'' he groans against your lips, and you can't help but let your mouth curl into a smile as you hear how good he feels.

You envelop his mouth with yours while you keep rubbing up and down with your hand, teasing his tip, swallowing his sounds as your tongues dance together.

Before Chris can even tell you it's happening, you feel his dick twitch in your hand, and without warning, he cums over your hand and both your stomachs with a loud moan.

''Fucking hell, that felt so good, Babygirl, but now it's my turn to make you feel good,'' he says, and you let go of his dick, his hand inching to your dripping pussy.

You gasp as he plunges two fingers into your entrance without warning after feeling how wet you are because of him, and a high whine follows quickly after as it takes you over completely.

He keeps going in a steady motion with his fingers while his thumb plays with your clit until he suddenly stops before your orgasm.

''Trust me, Babygirl, it'll be worth it,'' he says as he picks you up and pushes you against the wall, letting you glide down slightly until your entrance catches onto his tip, and he slides in with a smooth thrust.

The water from the shower washes over you both as he slowly thrusts up into you, taking his sweet time and building you right back up to your orgasm. You trust him with your life, so this won't be any different.

He keeps whispering sweet nothings against you while thrusting, which makes the butterflies in your stomach constantly go wild with every word.

''I-I lo-o-o-ve y-you,'' you say as he picks up the pace, and with that, you shatter around him, your orgasm being mindbending as it makes you cross-eyed for a good minute.

When you're finally coming down, you slump your head forward, and with a dopey grin, you pant against his chest when you realize he came inside you, too, but you didn't even notice.

''I love you too, Babygirl, and there aren't enough words to tell you just how much,'' he says with a kiss against your temple. You two finish your shower, letting Chris wash your hair and your body before enabling you to do the same with him, making you giggle uncontrollably as he gets shampoo on his eye. He curses in a thick Boston accent at the invasion.

''When you're done, he grabs towels for both of you and dries you off, leaving kisses over every inch of skin he can reach, and it feels like second nature to both of you.

''Let's get you into some clothes; we wouldn't want you walking around the house naked when we still have guests, huh?'' he says, and your eyes grow wide as saucers as you look at him, and the realization sinks in.

They heard you fall apart on Chris' cock in the shower and probably during the night, though you don't remember anything about that.

''Chris, we still need to talk about what happened because as much as I love you, I'm not ready for a relationship now,'' you confess, and he nods.

''We can just keep on sleeping together and have a friends-with-benefits relationship,'' he offers as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

''But... what if one of us would get into a relationship with someone else?'' you ask, the thought making your throat close a little, a lump forming.

''I don't want anyone else than you, Babygirl. I want you in whichever way you'll have me, and I'll wait for you as long as I have to,'' he says before capturing your lips in one more kiss that sends you soaring.

''Okay,'' you breathe out when he pulls away, and with a big smile, you get dressed in a pair of boxer briefs. Chris hands you together with one of his shirts, which is way too big and perfect for you.

''C'mon, let's make some breakfast. You deserve it, and we need to get something in your stomach so you won't vomit like that again,'' Chris jokes, and you slap him against his chest.

''Not funny!'' you say, but you laugh anyway, and when you go down the stairs, you're greeted by some of the guests who slept over after the party, including his brother, Scott.

''Well, there we have the two lovebirds,'' he jokes, but Chris shoots him a glare with a slight shake of his head and immediately shuts his mouth.

''Just get seated, Babygirl, and I'll whip you up some breakfast, okay?'' he asks, and you happily do while scrolling through your social media, not paying attention to Chris and Scott's conversation.

''She's not ready for a relationship, but she agreed to be friends with benefits, so I'm happy with it,'' Chris says with a big smile, and Scott claps him on his shoulder approvingly, making you look at the two of them.

''I'll leave you two to your breakfast,'' he says before gracefully sliding out of the kitchen, and not long after, Chris puts a plate down in front of you with pancakes and some fruit, together with a small kiss on the crown of your head.

''I love you, Babygirl,'' he says as he gets seated, and you happily dig into your pancakes while you tell him about some things you saw on social media, but mostly dog videos, since that's precisely what the two of you bonded over, to begin with.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans one shot #chris evans request #chris evans imagine #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #slight dubcon/noncon

[starysky1289]

I need more Toxic!Dark!Sorority Vanessa!!

That fic was just.. Chefs kiss. You write so well. 🥹

Thank you for the compliment it means so much. 😭😭🥺I took dark off it because to me toxic is just way more extreme dark.

Toxic!Soroity!Vanessa X Reader. The argument.

TW: DubCon, toxic relationship, drug mention, Pet play if you REALLY squint, slight abuse.

“ Vanessa please. Just sit down and study, you need to pass this test. “

“ I’ll be fine. My father will just throw some more cash at the teacher if I fail. I can’t belive I’m dating a fucking nerd…”

You sat on Vanessa bed, holding your rather expensive book on your lap, watching as Vanessa did her makeup in the mirror.

“ listen. Just do a little with me. If you do, I’ll go down to the frats party with you “

You got up and put your chin on Vanessa’s, as she pushed you off, mumbling to herself.

“ I’m not taking you out anywhere until you cut that hair. You know I hate it long. But fine, give me the fucking book…”

You sighed, and gently placed the book on her vanity, she flipped it open and read some random page, before closing it, going back to her makeup.

“ there, I’m done. Now leave me alone, I gotta finish getting ready for this party. “

You shrank into your skin, you looked at her through the mirror, your eyes starting to water.

“ your..your still going to the party without me? “

“ yeah? Who else is bringing the drugs. “

“ but..I can’t come? “

Vanessa groaned, standing up and heading towards her closest, looking through her multiple revealing outfits.

“ I said you’re not going out till your hair gets cut. And maybe if you loose a few pounds too. “

Your legs trembled, you hated when she brought up your weight, you had been working hard to try and loose some for her, but it was never enough.

“ b..but I’ll be alone in my dorm nessa…”

“ listen. You’re lucky we’re dateing, stop crying and get your shit together, I’ll drive you to your place. “

You grabbed your bag, shoving the papers and books you’d brought try and get her to study with you, it never worked. You froze, your hands trembling as you stared at the bright pink scrunchie around your wrist.

“ I can’t. TAKE IT ANYMORE VANESSA. “

She froze, staring at you in disbelief. You pulled the scrunchie off you wrist, holding it tightly in you hand.

“ I can’t take this abuse! I can’t take how you treat me like an accessory, I’m more than that! I’m sorry your father never loved you enough to give you a good life, but that doesn’t mean you can ruin mine. IM DONE. “

You throw the scrunchie in her small trash, grabbing your bag and storming towards the door. As you reached for the door handle, your wrists were quickly grabbed, and Vanessa shoved you against the wall, her eyes blazing with rage.

“ how dare you. You’d be nothing without me. NOTHING. “

She snarled in your face, her grip around your wrist tightened, you could feel her acrylics digging into your skin. She smirked, her eyes still starring into yours.

“ you wanna go to that party so bad? Fine. We’ll go, and we’ll make sure everyone knows your mine. “

She let go of you, and turned to her closet, throwing you an outfit. You watched as she changed her shirt skirt, tossing it back into the closet and going over to her vanity draws, before glaring at you.

“ don’t just stand there. Change. And if I fucking hear your complaining your dead. “

You quickly began to change, you had faced away from Vanessa, trying not to make much more eye contact with her. She had given you a pink tank top and a white short skirt, that barely covered your ass.

“ take the panties off. “

“ b-but nessa- “

“ do it. “

She growled at you from across the room, you reluctantly stripped them off, tossing them into the corner. You finally faced Vanessa. She wore a white crop top with a pink faux fir jacket, and a pair of tight black joggers shorts. You couldn’t help but notice the bulge in them, your lips quivering, you knew exactly what she was going to do with you.

“ now, let’s give you the last few changes~ “

She pulled your hair up with the pink scrunchie you threw out, putting it in a low ponytail. She fished around another cabinet and strapped a cold peice of leather around your neck. Looking in the mirror, you could see it was a pastel pink collar, you touched it gently, before Vanessa grabbed your wrists again, dragging you downstairs, and eventually out of the Soroity house.

“ your gonna listen to me. And if anyone comes up to you you’re gonna come find me, I don’t need another repeat of last time, do we? “

“ n..no nessa…”

She got into her car, you sitting in the passenger side, as she began to drive out.

“ one more thing. Im Mistress tonight, so if you need me, you’ll ask your Mistress, you got that? “

“ y-yes v-van-….yes mistress…”

Tears swelled in your eyes, as embarrassment flooded through your body. Vanessa glanced at you and scoffed.

“ again with the tears. Stop being such a crybaby, people don’t like it, I don’t like it. “

You wipped your face, and stayed quiet. Your heart raced at the thought of what she’d do to you. Eventually, you pulled up to a large red house, you could hear the music blaring from inside already. Vanessa stepped out and you followed her, she knocked on the door, and a tall, blonde guy welcomed her in, eyeing you down like meat as you followed her in.

People seemed to cheer as Vanessa came in and quickly sat herself down, emptying her purse, she had filled it to the brim with multiple baggies with white powder in them.

“ Y/N. You get the special job of counting my money. And if you do good I’ll reward you~ “

You only nodded, sitting next to Vanessa. You felt her fiddle with the collar, but you didn’t look.

“ alright fuckers, line up. Give the pretty girl your money. “

Dozens of people immediately lined up, digging through the pockets for wads of cash. You’d take it, count how much, and tell Vanessa, who’d hand them a bag worth the money. You couldn’t help but notice the glares you were getting, people eyeing you up and down. Even when they came up to get there shit they’d talk to Vanessa about.

“ pretty thing you’ve got there Nessa, what made ya bring her. “

“ she wanted you to throw a fit before i was gonna go, so i brought her along to help. Don’t worry, she’s got something coming. “

You stayed quiet when the line slowed down, and eventually everyone had gotten something. Vanessa pulled you into her, playing with something in her hand.

“ god…keeping you in a leash has been the best idea I’ve had. It really makes sure you know who you belong to~ “

You had finally noticed it, the black braided leash Vanessa had attached to your collar. You blushed and turned away, Vanessa only chuckled and pulled you in by it, holding you chin.

“ don’t be embarrassed. I think you got me a lot more money than I would off. I think that deserves a reward baby~ “

“ n-Nessa- “

“ mistress. “

“ mistress. Y-yess. I-I don’t wanna do anything in public like this..”

She chuckled again, spreading her legs, messing with her shorts and letting the pink strap pop out.

“ well, keep your mouth on it and no one sees. Easy as that. “

You stared at you, hesitantly moving down to sit between her legs. She held onto your ponytail, pushing your face against the strap.

“ pretty little thing…cmon. Get to work. “

You looked up at her once again, before slowly taking it in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head on it. She kept a good grip on your hair, you watched her look around the room, like she was making sure no one saw, but everyone could.

“ hey, Sarah, Bailey! No im not busy, get me a seltzer and join me. “

You flushed, those were the names of her closest friends. You tried to pull back, but she kept your head down, you reluctantly continued to suck on the pink silicone dick.

The girls sat on each side of her, you could see them looking at you, snickering behind their hands.

“ how’d she get in this predicament~? “

“ she wanted to run her mouth. And I couldn’t just let her get away with that. She threatened to leave me, Bailey, could you believe that. “

Vanessa finally let go of your head, you slowly pulled off, laying your head on her thighs. Sarah petted your head like you were a dog, snickering to herself.

“ can she do any tricks Vanessa~? “

“ mm..not tricks, but she’s a fantastic listener, arnt you baby~? “

“ yes..yes mistress…”

The girls all laughed, you burried your head in Vanessa thighs, you longed to go to your dorm and just sleep, but you had to run your mouth.

“ hey, baby. “

You lifted your head,Vanessa pulled the leash slightly, signaling you to sit on her lap. You felt so out of place there, the strap pressed against your pelvis, Vanessa’s arms around your waist.

“ you do one more thing for me and I’ll take you to ya dorm. “

“ w-what do you want…”

“ ride me. “

You burried your head into her shoulder, the girls giggled as Vanessa kissed your neck.

“ cmon baby, it’s just like at home. Only difference is we’re out. “

“ b-but I don’t like people watching..”

“ this isn’t a option, Y/N. You’ll do this, I take you home, I come back and get wasted. Maybe I should have let you walk out, you could have gotten kidnapped and raped on the way to your dorm. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. “

You quickly hugged her, tears forming in your eyes, before you pulled your face out of her shoulder and stared at her.

“ n-no please..d-don’t let me get hurt..”

“ then you gonna do it? “

You held her shoulders, taking a deep breath, before lowering yourself onto the toy, moaning softly. The tears slowly began to roll down your face as Vanessa gripped your waist, helping your ride the strap at a steady pace.

“ that’s it…my girl always comes back around to me, don’t you~? “

“ y-yes mistress, i do. I-I’m your girl..”

All threes of the girls laughed again. Vanessa would slam you down onto the strap, making your moans grow louder every moment.

“ m-mistress please- I-I’m gonna cum please~!! “

You felt the toy spread you, like it could rip you if it was any bigger. You slammed yourself down faster, trying to please her, trying to please yourself.

“ aww..dirty girl. Go ahead, cum…but your walking out of here by yourself, I’m not holding your hand~ “

You where to intoxicated by the pleasure to care, letting Vanessa thrust into your, before you let out one last defeated moan. Your walls clenched around the toy, as you let out heavy breaths. The music was still blaring around you, no one seemed to notice what had just happened besides the two girls and maybe one or two bystanders.

“ such a good girl..what do you say~? “

“..thank you…thank you mistress…I love you..”

Vanessa, for the first time, gently held his ur waist and helped pull you off, as she stuffed the soaked strap back into her shorts, letting you walk out toward the door.

“ I’ll be back in like fifteen, save my seat. “

Vanessa called to her friends, before you walked into the passenger seat, Vanessa pulled you into her, kissing you deeply.

“ oh i love you too…oh how lucky you are that your mine~ “

#five nights at freddy's #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly smut #vanessa shelly x reader #tw toxic relationship #toxic!vanessa #sorority!vanessa #tw: dubcon #tw slight pet play #tw slight abuse #tw drug mention

[princelylove]

Oh I love how you add Holy and Lisa Lisa in, I love them too, need more content for them ~

I wonder how would their reaction/feeling and punishment when they discover darling's love is fake, they just pretending to love them so they can escape.

~ 🏵️ anon ~

Hii, 🏵️anon. Cutting a few out since I wanted to go into detail- I’ll probably make a continuation of the others down the line. 

Content warnings: Reader death, noncon/dubcon in Jolyne’s part, general violence, and gaslighting 

Holly would hate to hear that! She herself wouldn’t punish you, she’s definitely going to cry about it and lock herself in her kitchen for a little bit. She’s deeply hurt, how could you say something like that to your wife?? She channels her emotion into cooking or baking something she knows you like to eat. It’s an apology gift, and she’s prepared a list of things she’s going to do better for you! Holly hopes you forgive her, and understands if you still need some time to think about things. But, in the end, Holly’s not willing to get a “divorce,” so you’re not going anywhere. She sits on her knees and shoves her hands under her legs when she brings you breakfast, and tries not to talk too much. Is her voice annoying? Do you not like how she makes things cutesy? She rents books about marriage, watches programs on television about relationships, and calls her mother or father for advice. She might even vent to Jotaro, but she tries not to. She doesn’t want to worry him- mainly because he has no problem breaking bones. 

It… doesn’t really matter if you like Jotaro or not. As long as you submit, he’s going to lie to himself. You can say whatever you want, he’s just going to tell you to shut up and stop whining. You’re stupid, you have no idea what you’re talking about. You need him, and he needs you to just stay put and let him protect you from the evils of the world.. Jotaro’s convinced that everything is trying to eat you, and he’s not going to just let it. He won’t punish you until you actually do something- words are just words, and Jotaro is convinced you’re all bark and no bite. If he catches you storing ‘shit’ to take when you run away, he’ll drag you by your wrists into your room, make sure you sit and stay, put everything back, and give you a light slap on your wrist. Jotaro would prefer to restrain you with his own hands, but he can’t really sit there and hold you down all day, so chains will have to do until he’s ready to “cuddle” for the night- which is just him holding you down and smelling your neck for a couple hours. Try to run away too often and Jotaro will just take away your ability to walk. You can keep your legs, he won’t remove them, but he will break them. He babies you throughout the healing process. When your legs finally do heal, if you still aren’t willing, he’ll just break them again. It was fun taking care of you, why wouldn’t he? 

Josuke takes it pretty personally. It’s hard not to. I mean, you can’t just go around saying that he’s a “creep” and “not your boyfriend.” Words have meaning, babe. You can’t throw a tantrum just ‘cause he got a little handsy with you. It’s just him. Somebody’s gonna hear you and think he’s beating you or something, you gotta cut it out. Josuke’s fairly lenient compared to the rest of his family- what are you really escaping from? He’s not trapping you, and it’s not like he really gets in your way. You’re overreacting ‘cause he didn’t read the room right, jeez. Josuke’s going to gaslight you and physically get in the way of every exit. He scoffs a bit when you tell him he’s overbearing- who, him?? What’s he done that’s overbearing? Oh! Oh, he’s overbearing ‘cause he wants to know what his partner is doing?? Yeah, right, that makes total sense- look, why don’t you just blow off some steam and come talk to him when you have a real problem with his behavior. 

Giorno already knows. Did you truly believe that you would be able to hide something like that from him? Giorno survives off of hope- Perhaps Guido’s philosophy of “things will always work out in the end” has rubbed off on him. You’ll come around. He won’t react to minor threats or tantrums, not even directly getting in his face and screaming at him will make Giorno budge. The only real way to get under his skin is to attempt to abandon him- he feels everything he felt when he was little. He’s just a small, frail little boy again when he finds your hoard of essentials hidden away. If you want to leave him so badly, fine, leave him. One of his bodyguards will bring you back, and he’ll try again, after a bit of coping with his situation (Brooding in his room wondering what could possibly be so awful about him), and starving you of any enrichment or social interaction. If you ever were to strike him, or otherwise attempt his life, Giorno’s instincts would take over. His hands tremble so much that he drops whatever weapon he confiscated from you mid attempt, and he’ll stay frozen in place until Guido or Sheila E comes to check on him. 

Jolyne was hoping her insecure thoughts were wrong. Part of her wants to snap, The hell is wrong with you? Of course you love her, you’re making her sound like she’s Narciso or something. You were just cuddling up to her telling her how big her muscles were the other day, did you get a fuckin’ lobotomy done on you in the hour she left you alone? The other part of her falls into a bit of a depression. Of fucking course you don’t love her. She was really trying, too. She could beat your ass for lying to her, but she’s not gonna. She’s too miserable. She throws herself into the gym and replays every single interaction she’s ever had with you- that was seriously all a lie so you could get her off your ass? The next time you see her- which is likely her hunting you down- she traps you in a small room, probably your cell. She genuinely just wants to talk about how cruel you are. If you try to run, Jolyne gets in your way, and uses her stand to hold you in place. Looking down at you like this, all tied up… it just sorta clicks. This is how it’s meant to be. Your door locks, right? Probably not, she can put something in front of it. She’s got some pent up frustration to take out on you. 

#yandere jotaro kujo #yandere josuke higashikata #yandere holly kujo #yandere jolyne cujoh #yandere giorno giovanna #cw noncon #cw dubcon #cw slight degradation #request granted #🏵️ anon #reader death

[brewed-pangolin]

OG Soap is the kind of gentleman that would hold your hair and rub your back while you threw up in a sidewalk trashcan.

"Tha's it, lass. Get it all outta'ya. Gonnae make ya feel betta' in th'mornin', yeah?"

Would absolutely make sure you got home safe and stay overnight just to watch over you. No, he's not going to make a move. Man is a class act and true man of his word.

But if you need a way to help sweat out that hangover in the morning, he'd be more than willing to oblige.

Reboot Soap would hold your hair and critique your bodies skill of reverse peristalsis. Even going so far as giving you a numbered scale rating.

"Steamin' Jesus, bonnie. Tha's gotta be at least a 6.5 or 7 with how many shots ya threw back, eh? Gonnae be nursin' a mighty ceann-daoraich in th'mornin', aren't ya?"

And that hand on your back? Don't be surprised if it moves a little too far south to get a quick feel of your ass. Man's a serious opportunist.

He'll also make sure you get home safely. Won't make a move unless you show interest first. Just don't bring up the fact you heard him rubbing one out in your bathroom while you were 'passed out' on the couch.

And if you're craving some authentic Lorne sausage in the morning, he's got the perfect recipe that'll fill you right up.

ceann-daoraich - hangover

#cw: slight dubcon #happy new year #its idk30 and ive had waaaay too much champagne #the brainrot of Captain MacTavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap squad #soap sqaud 🧼 #its not still sunday is it? #oops #i love these boys so much it makes my head hurt #that's actually probably just the champagne #nevermind