ewusernamessuck-offical

Latest Posts by ewusernamessuck-offical

Creaming my PANTS

MELTING! SCREAMING!! SODJIWNFIEKDKKWKFKE!!!

Literally becoming a popstar so this can happen to me😋

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

Masterlist | Eddie Munson Masterlist | Corroded Coffin Masterlist

FanBoy!Eddie Munson x Popstar!Fem Reader

(Both Eddie and Reader are 18+)

This fic is for: birthday boy pop-up event by @corrodedcoffinfest ; the prompt is “gift”

Prompt: Gift | Word Count: 8,897 | Rating: E | POV: Eddie | Relationships: Eddie Munson x Popstar!Fem Reader | Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of Weed and Underage Drinking | Tags: Eddie Munson, Fanboy Eddie, Popstar Reader, Concert, Gift, Meet and Greet, Celebrity Crush

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Eddie is lowkey a Pervert with so many thoughts about you, Dirty Talking, Kinda a Fanboy kink if you can call it that? (Mutual between Eddie and Reader), Smut: Oral (Fem and Male Receiving), Fingering, Cum Eating, Protected PinV, afab reader

Synopsis: Eddie was your biggest fan; it started after Gareth decided to drag him to your concert. Now, Eddie just doesn't shut up about you. So, the guys decide to come together and pitch in on an amazing Birthday gift for Eddie. This is based off of this blurb I had written and I had people ask for more of these two (including them actually meeting); so woo! Also this slowly turned into the longest fic I have ever written so, I hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 8.8k

Two months.

It had been two months since your newest album had been released to the public—copies of the vinyls sat in record stores far and wide while your top song played on every radio station on the top of every hour. 

It had been two whole months of Eddie Munson playing your album every day and night, no matter what he was doing within the four walls of his cluttered bedroom. 

Your pop sound and lyrics were a stark contrast to the usual heavy metal music that would ring through his room as he laid back on his bed, packing a bowl of the latest recommendation from his dealer. He’d play your music in the background while he messed around with his guitar, adding some heavy riffs to the poppy sounds that played from the record player. He’d sit on his bed, hand in his pants with his cock in his fist tightly; he’d stroke himself while your voice filled his ears, edging him closer and closer to release. The sound of your sweet and soft voice played late into the night, always seeming to help him drift off to sleep faster; and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that to anyone that would listen. 

Anyone. 

No, really, the Hellfire boys were so fucking sick of listening to Eddie bring you up in every conversation–during lunch at the cafeteria, between battles at Hellfire campaigns, during a late night smoke session in his van by the lake–it didn’t matter the occasion, your name was always rolling off of his lips like a prayer. It was like he was dating you; he spoke about you so highly and intimately, there was never anything negative spoken about you by that boy.

He was just such a love sick little puppy that thought about you every single minute of his morning, afternoon and evening. And the Hellfire boys always just shared looks and groaned while rolling their eyes when Eddie started talking about you. And Eddie noticed their looks, he noticed their annoyance with him but that didn’t stop him from speaking about you… it had actually gotten to the point where he would join the conversations of the cheerleaders just so he could talk about you and your music. 

You released a new song? He ran to the girls to ask if they had heard it yet before gushing over how good it was because, you never seem to have any songs that suck.

You announced a tour or a show near them? He was telling all the girls that he was going to do anything in his power to make sure he would be at that show, seeing you perform live yet again.

And, let’s be real, all these cheerleaders thought that was funny as hell, but they always allowed Eddie to join their conversations; in fact, some of the cheerleaders went out of their way and started the conversations with him. He was just like them—he was a fanboy at heart and he couldn’t help that you were his current unconventional musical hyper fixation at the moment. 

It had been two whole months of your posters and pictures being placed on his walls, hung up so carefully to ensure that they wouldn’t rip or tear. And, every time the guys came over he was constantly getting attacked and questioned by those pieces of paper. The posters were everywhere, there was one above his bed, there was one above his record player, hell, this motherfucker had one on the ceiling above his bed. You were the last thing he saw before he fell asleep and the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning, cheesy, right? And, fuck, did the Hellfire boys tease him about that. I mean, it’s not everyday that the stoner Metalhead had pictures of a pop princess on his wall. 

But, could you blame him? You just happened to look oh so good in those posters. 

And his favorite to this day was still the one of you in that short fucking black dress; he made sure that poster was above his record player so he could look at you while sitting on his bed. He just couldn’t help it—that picture didn’t leave anything to the imagination. The way your curves were so full and perfect, god, he wanted to run his hands all over your body, feeling every single curve and divet of your plush skin. The way your cleavage looked like it could pop out of that dress at any moment, god, he wanted to reach out and squeeze your breasts gently, hearing the small moans and whines escape your mouth while he massages them between his hands, thumbs running over your hardened nipples slowly. Eddie just loved that dress on you so much but he desperately wanted to see it on his bedroom floor–preferably in a pile with his own clothes while you were pressed up against him, moaning and groaning his name with each and every thrust he made. 

He had countless thoughts about you since he had first listened to that album and somehow each one seemed worse than the last. 

He knows, he knows–he’s a pervert. You don’t have to tell him twice.

Seriously, though, each thought was worse than the last. He’s imagined you on your knees in front of him, hand wrapping around the base of his cock while taking it in your pretty little mouth. He’s imagined you on your knees on his bed while he's thrusting into you from behind, so deep and fast that you are screaming his name. He’s imagined hovering over you, kissing the soft skin of your neck as he thrusts into you slow and deep, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He’s imagined you on top of him, riding on his cock with your tits bouncing in his face. He’s imagined quickies with you after your shows in the dressing room, directly backstage, in the bathroom. You name it he’s probably thought of it with you. 

Eddie was just so whipped and craved you. Craved to know how you felt, how you smelled, how you tasted, how you sounded… he craved to know every little thing about you; all your little imperfections, quirks, any skeletons you had hidden in your closet. He just craved to know you on such an intimate and personal level. But, sadly, you were just a celebrity crush who didn’t even know he existed. 

At least, until tonight.

Tonight you were back in Hawkins, Indiana for a concert. Tonight, on Eddie Munson’s 19th birthday, you were in Hawkins, Indiana. You were in his hometown for his birthday. God, it was like the stars were aligning to give him the best birthday he’s had in a while, if not ever.

Eddie had purchased his ticket for your show months ago, literally the day they went on sale; he had called Gareth and bought a ticket for both of them (and, Gareth wasn’t entirely thrilled about that, but he knew he had to support his best friend… especially on his birthday). 

He had his ticket, he had his best friend by his side, he knew your new songs front to back; he was beyond ready for your concert.

But, the Hellfire boys had a surprise gift for him. They all knew he had a concert ticket, hell, the entire school knew he had a ticket to your show tonight. But, what he didn’t have was a meet and greet VIP ticket… at least, until Jeff pulled some strings with his dad who worked at the venue you were going to be performing at. 

And, my god, you should have seen the look on Eddie’s face when he opened that gift. At first, he looked at the Hellfire boys with a questionable look, he already had tickets, he didn’t need them. But when he read the words “VIP Meet and Greet Ticket” with your name next to it? Yeah, he screamed. A literal scream left his mouth as he thought about meeting you, talking to you, hugging you. And Gareth shook his head because he knew he’d have to stand next to Eddie the entire time during this Meet and Greet. (But, come on, Gareth was also secretly excited to meet you and see you face to face as well; he was just… not excited to deal with Eddie the whole time…) 

So, now, Eddie stood next to Gareth waiting in the meet and greet line amongst a ton of younger girls and teenage girls that were all gushing to meet you. And Eddie was shaking from head to toe. He was both excited and terrified at the same time. What if you were mean? What if you hated him? What if you were a bitch? What if you aren’t like anything he has pictured you to be? What if everything he has thought about you was actually just something he made up and you weren’t that perfect little angel he has you made out to be?

He’s never met a celebrity before… are you really just a normal person like him? Do you enjoy going to the movies just like he did? Do you enjoy listening to music and getting high just like he did? Do you enjoy pancakes over waffles just like he did? Do you enjoy spending your free time with friends and family just like he did?

“Eddie,” Gareth said, looking at his friend. Eddie snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Gareth, raising an eyebrow. 

“Hm?” He replied, looking at Gareth.

“We’re next,” Gareth said, motioning to the nonexistent line in front of them. Eddie gulped, looking up in front of him. He caught a glimpse of you and your smile and panicked. 

“I can’t do this,” Eddie said, shaking his head. Gareth rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Yes, you can. Please, you don’t shut up about her. At least talk to her.” Gareth replied, looking at his friend. “She’s not going to bite you or anything.”

“She might.”

“Next!” The security guard called, looking up Eddie and Gareth. He raised his eyebrow slightly when he saw the two boys but shrugged, allowing them through. The pair walked towards the stage where you were standing in front of a pale pink and purple backdrop with hearts all over it. 

God, why was Eddie’s head spinning? He felt hot. He felt dizzy. He felt like the room was slowly melting away from around him as he stood there, looking at you. It felt like the heavens were opening up and shining down on you as you stood in front of them, glowing like an angel, a goddess, a beautiful princess that he wanted to sweep off your feet with his wit, charm and good looks.

You looked up at Gareth and Eddie and smiled, waving them towards you. “Hi!” You cheered. “Thank you for coming, oh my gosh!” 

God, when you spoke it sounded like a chorus of angels signing around you. Eddie had never been to church, but he felt like he wanted to fall to knees to worship you and sing your praises.

Gareth stepped towards you but Eddie didn’t, he just stood there frozen. He looked you up and down, taking in your appearance. Your hair and makeup were already clearly done for the concert—hair curled perfectly, not even moving as you moved your head side to side, beautiful soft pink eyeshadow with glitter overtop, making you sparkle each time you moved. You were wearing some baggy light blue jeans and a pink crop top that showed off your midriff perfectly. 

God, you were perfect. You were real, you were perfectly real, and you were standing right in front of Eddie, beckoning him towards you with those beautiful and subtle hand motions.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Gareth said softly, stepping closer to you. You smiled at him, opening your arms for a hug. Gareth didn’t decline, he wrapped his arms around you gently before pulling away, looking at Eddie. 

Eddie watched Gareth hug you before he stepped closer, a nervous smile on his face. “Hi,” he spoke softly. 

You opened your arms and Eddie quickly stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your body as he pulled you close to him. Your arms wrapped around him, smiling as you stood there embracing each other. His arms moved down to your waist gently as he held you against his soft and warm body. It felt like it was just you two in the room as you hugged, sparks flying around you like fireworks. He was so happy to be embracing you, to be holding you, and you allowed him to. You allowed him to hug you and hold you as long as he pleased; you didn’t pull away, you didn’t back away, you just hugged him tighter and smiled as he held you close to his body. 

After what felt like ages, Eddie finally pulled away from the hug, looking at you with a goofy and giddy grin on his face. Gareth glanced at Eddie and raised an eyebrow slightly before looking back at you. 

You smiled at them both, “thanks for coming to meet me and hang out!” You giggled, looking at them. “You probably know my name, but I don’t know yours…” You pouted, looking at the two boys in front of you that looked like they were at the wrong concert. Heavy metal band tees on, ripped jeans, boots on their feet; why on earth were they here to listen to you?

“I’m Gareth,” Gareth said softly, nodding with a smile. 

“I’m Eddie, it’s uh, it’s really cool to meet you. I’ve been listening to your music for quite some time and when I saw you were coming today I just had to come see you. Makes for a really cool birthday.” Eddie smiled, watching you. 

“Birthday? Oh my gosh, is today your birthday?” You asked, Eddie nodded slightly.

“Yeah, nineteen. Scary number,” he joked. 

“Our friend got him a meet and greet ticket for his birthday,” Gareth piped in, looking at Eddie. “He’s like, your number one fan.” 

“Oh my gosh, I was your birthday gift? That’s so cool!” You gushed, “thank you for listening to my music and supporting me, really, it means the world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do what I love doing without people like you.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie stuttered out, nodding at you. “Anytime,” he added. 

You smiled, looking at the boys. “Well, can I interest you in a picture together? A signed poster? I have to make sure my number one fan has the best birthday ever.” 

Eddie blushed. You just acknowledged him and called him your number one fan. Fuck. 

“Yeah, that'd be cool,” Eddie smiled, Gareth nodded as well. 

“Perfect, come here and smile for the camera.” You said, motioning towards the boys. They walked to you, standing on either side of you. Gareth stood on your left and Eddie stood on your right. You wrapped your arms around their backs gently and looked at the camera and smiled with the boys. Once the photo was taken you looked at Eddie with a smile. “Want a picture of just the two of us?” You asked. He looked at you nervously. 

“You, uh, you’d do that for me? Can we? Really?” He asked. You nodded. 

“Of course! Consider it a birthday gift from me to you.” 

Gareth took this as a sign to step away, leaving you and Eddie together for your own picture. You wrapped your arms around Eddie’s waist and smiled, leaning closer to him for the picture. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as a goofy grin appeared on his face.

After the photo was taken you hugged Eddie again, smiling at him. “Happy birthday, Eddie. It was nice to meet you and Gareth,” you said, glancing at Gareth. “I hope you both enjoy the show. I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

“Thanks, princess,” Eddie smiled. Gareth smiled as well, waving at you. The two grabbed their posters and were on their way while you turned towards your next fan here for meet and greet—a little girl and her mom. You were crouching towards the ground to get to the level of the little girl as she ran towards you for a hug. You hugged her tightly and smiled, rocking her back and forth gently. 

Eddie looked back and watched from afar as he left. 

Fuck, did he love you.  

“I’ll be back,” Eddie yelled to Gareth over the noise of the bar. Your concert was over and Eddie was bummed to leave, so Gareth suggested heading to the Hideout for a few drinks to celebrate his birthday. Eddie reluctantly agreed, even though he’d rather be at home right now thinking about you with his pants around his ankles and his hand on his cock, stroking himself in time to your music.

Gareth nodded at Eddie, before going back to his conversation with Jeff. They were having a heated argument about something, but Eddie didn’t really listen to the details because he didn’t really care. That sounded rude, oh well, it was true. All he cared about right now was you. 

“Jack and Coke, please,” Eddie said as he walked up to the bar, away from Gareth and the other boys in the crowd. He grunted as he took a seat in one of the uncomfortable bar stools. The bartender looked up at him and smiled slightly, nodding to get him his drink. “Thanks, Mark,” Eddie added, watching the usual bartender go off to fix his drink. Once the drink was in his hand he raised it slightly, giving a nod to Mark as he began sipping on his drink. He looked around the bar, eyeing his surroundings as he usually did. 

Your concert was over, you had left the stage long ago and were probably a long ways away from Hawkins by now. Why would you stay here longer than you had to? Eddie sighed to himself, finishing the drink in his hand a little too quickly.

He had finally gotten to meet you, to hug you, to smell you. That was weird, yeah, he’s weird, but, did you know you smell like a mixture of roses and strawberries? Like, he was walking through a strawberry field with a bouquet of roses in his hands, on the way to give you said bouquet before falling to his knees to confess his undying love for you. Begging you for a chance to let him love you and hold you for as long as you would let him.

“Mind if I sit here?” A feminine voice rang through his ear on his left side. Eddie didn’t look up, he just nodded, mumbling what sounded like a yes as he stared down at the ice in the glass his hand was wrapped around tightly. “Thanks. Hi, I’ll have a Rum and Coke, please.”

That voice. Eddie knew that voice, he had listened to it everyday for the last two months. Not to mention, he basically drooled over it a few hours prior at the concert.

He stopped, looking up to his left. His eyes widened as he saw you sitting on the barstool next to him. Live and in the flesh.

God, you looked perfect.

Your hair was still holding its curl perfectly while resting against your shoulders, your sparkly stage makeup had been removed from your face leaving a more natural look but, damn, you still looked drop dead gorgeous. Instead of the pale pink sparkly mini skirt and matching top you wore during the concert, you now had the same baggy jeans from the meet and greet and a sweatshirt with your name on it. Wearing your own merchandise, huh? Damn, that’s hot.

You smiled as Mark slid the drink your way, leaving you with a flirty wink. “This one’s on the house, princess,” Mark said and Eddie shot him a glare. 

“Oh, why, thank you.” You replied, grabbing the glass in your hand. You brought it to your lips and smiled, sipping on the drink slowly. You glanced at Eddie, nodding at him with that adorable smile of yours. Fuck. “Hi, uh… Eddie, right?” You asked, remembering him all too well from your Meet and Greet earlier in the night. And, I mean, how could you forget him? Not many others showed up to your show with a Metallica shirt, ripped jeans and chains.

Not many people showed up like that but, damn, did you love it.

“Yeah, uh, hi. Uh, yeah, that’s me… Eddie,” he replied, nodding as he set his empty glass down on the bar, releasing his grip from it. “You, uh, remembered my name?” He asked, turning his body towards you slightly in the bar stool.

You smiled, nodding your head before sipping on your drink. “It's a little hard not to remember the name of my biggest fan.” You murmured, setting your drink down on the bar. “How was the show?”

“It was amazing, really good, actually. You always seem to kill it on stage…” Eddie said softly, taking in your appearance yet again. He just couldn't believe you were here in the Hideout and sitting right next to him. He was so scared that he was going to embarrass himself in front of you and ruin any chance he may have with you. Because, he totally believes he has a chance with you, yeah. “What, uh, what are you doing here? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad you’re here and sitting next to me but… I kind of figured you’d be on a tour bus driving as far away from Hawkins as possible right now. You know, getting ready for the next concert of your tour.” He rambled on, stopping at the end to take a breath.

You giggled softly, turning your body towards him. Your left elbow rested on the bar, your chin resting on your palm as a smile appeared on your face. “Why, thank you. I already said it once but, thank you for coming to my show tonight, it means alot. And, I don’t know; I don’t have another show for a couple days so I decided to stay in town for a bit… is that not a good idea? Is it not too fun here in Hawkins?” Your right hand reached for your drink, taking a couple sips as Eddie shrugged.

“Hawkins really isn’t that fun,” he admitted, smiling at the way you gave your full attention to him. Fuck. “But, I don’t know, with a gorgeous girl like you floating around… it might get better.” He smiled, leaning a little closer to you. You blushed softly, smiling at him. You finished your drink and set the glass on the bar. 

“Yeah? Is that so?” You asked, looking at Eddie again. You were able to actually take your time looking at him now, unlike earlier. Pretty brown doe eyes, beautiful yet nervous smile, long and shaggy curls that fell into his face a bit until he repositioned his head. 

“Absolutely. You might make it worth staying here,” he nodded. You smiled again, looking up at Mark as he came over towards you two, asking about drinks. 

“Yeah, I’ll take another Rum and Coke. And a drink here for my friend, Eddie, as well please.” Mark nodded at your words before walking off to make you and Eddie both another drink.  

“Woah, you don’t need to buy me a drink, princess. I’ll survive.”

“Actually, I do. Consider it a birthday gift,” you smiled, looking at Eddie with that stupid perfect grin on your face. “Speaking of, how was your birthday?” You asked, “I’ll have to admit, I’m still feeling slightly honored that you decided to spend your birthday with me.” 

“You already gave me a birthday gift today,” he argued, referring to the solo picture of the two of you from earlier. “But, my birthday was perfect. Actually, I didn’t think it could get better but, somehow, with you next to me… it’s definitely going to go down in history as the best birthday I’ve ever had.” Eddie replied, smiling widely at you. “Not everyday you get to spend your day with your favorite popstar, you know?”

“Oh, I’m your favorite popstar, huh?” You giggled, leaning closer to him. Fuck, that giggle. 

“Well, you’re definitely up there on my list.” Eddie smiled, a chuckle escaping his lips. Mark walked back over and set the drinks down on the bar before he walked away again. You both reached for your glasses, taking them in your hands. 

“Well,” you said, raising your glass. “Happy birthday, Eddie. And, cheers to many more for you.” You and Eddie clinked your glasses together before taking a sip out of them. 

“Thank you,” he replied, nodding. “Make it a note to come to Hawkins on my birthday every year?” He teased. 

“I'll see what I can do,” you responded with a flirty wink.

“You better,” Eddie replied with a goofy smile. You sipped on your drink more, smiling as you looked around the small bar.

“This place is cool,” you commented, looking back at Eddie. “And, you hate Hawkins?” He smiled.

“Not that I hate Hawkins,” he said softly. “More so that it’s a little… boring. Not much really happens here.” He added, shrugging. He watched you with a smile on his face as you continued to look around the bar, your eyes catching the stage in the corner.

“Is that a stage?” You asked, motioning towards the corner as you sipped on your drink. Eddie’s gaze followed your and he nodded, smiling as he took another sip of his drink.

“Oh, yeah! Tons of local bands play there every week, including mine. We play here every Tuesday night.”

“Woah, you're in a band?” You asked, suddenly a bit more interested in the boy sitting next to you. 

“Yeah,” he smiled, blushing slightly as you took more interest in him. “It’s, uh, it’s called Corroded Coffin; we play some more heavy metal sounds. I’m a guitarist and lead singer in it…” Eddied replied, nodding at you.

“Corroded Coffin, huh? Sounds cool,” you giggled, finishing your drink. You set the empty glass on the bar and looked at him, “heavy metal, huh? What makes me stand out so much that you listen to my silly little pop music then?” 

Eddie chuckled nervously, finishing his drink as well. “Well, you’re very pretty, you have an amazing voice and I do have a soft spot in my heart for pop music.” He replied, setting his empty glass down next to yours. “Guilty pleasure music, I guess you can say…”

“Well, I’m honored to be part of your guilty pleasure music.” You smiled, looking at him. “Oh, and I’d absolutely love to see and hear some Corroded Coffin songs, if you’ll show me, that is. I actually do enjoy listening to a heavier metal sound from time to time.” Eddie blushed, looking at you shocked.

“You listen to heavy metal?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “It’s funny, I make pop music but I tend to not listen to that in my free time, actually.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly as he learned more about you. “Huh. It appears there is a lot that I don’t know about you, pop princess.”

“Yeah, I get that alot,” you nodded. “So, you play guitar, huh? That’s a skill I wish I had, I’ve been pushing myself to learn but, I just have very little motivation.” You admitted softly.

“I could teach you,” Eddie suggested, looking at you with a goofy smile. “If you want me to, at least…” 

“I think I would love that, Eddie,” you giggled, looking at him. 

He smiled at your giggle, looking at you. “You’re really pretty,” he said softly, looking at you. You blushed, smiling softly.

“You’re not so bad yourself, you know that Mr. Metalhead?” You replied, causing Eddie’s cheek to turn a slight shade of pink.

And with that you were both leaning closer to each other, eyes glancing at each other’s lips as you moved closer and closer together. Time stopped. Eddie’s ears were ringing and he felt like he was vibrating. You were so close to him, so close. He could see the small freckles on your cheeks, wanting to connect them all like little constellations. He could see the tiny baby hairs that didn’t want to stay down no matter how much hairspray you used, wanting to push them back and play with them gently. He could see the small scar that sat on your forehead from when you face planted on stage one night. He could see everything, and you were so beautiful. 

You smiled your little smile, tilting your head to the side as your lips pressed against his softly. Eddie sighed, the feeling of your lips against his enough to make him weak in the knees. He moved his lips against yours, kissing you back softly as his hand moved to the side of your face. He held your cheek, caressing it even, as his thumb ran along the smooth skin. Your hand moved towards his face as well, pulling him closer during the kiss.

He suddenly forgot where he was. All the noises of the bar around; the clinking of glasses, the yelling of partiers, the sounds of men hitting on women… it was all gone. There was no one else in the room. 

It was just you and him. The way it was meant to be—the way he wanted it. The way he dreamed it would be for the rest of his life; you and him against the world. 

Eddie felt like he was dreaming. Or, he died and went to heaven. He wasn’t entirely sure which was true but he was counting his blessings, and mentally thanking Jeff for those meet and greet tickets because; fuck. That gift just keeps on giving. Literally. 

He wasn’t sure how, he wasn’t sure why, but, he didn’t fucking care about the logistics of all of this.

All Eddie cared about was the feeling of your lips on his neck as he struggled with his keys to the front door of the trailer. That, and the fact that his uncle wasn’t home, otherwise this would be awkward.

He finally got his key in the lock and turned it, pushing the door open. He stumbled inside the trailer, pulling you with him. He kicked the front door shut behind you both and led you to his bedroom, pinning you up against the back of the door. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, lips crashing into yours desperately. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, pulling him in closer as you kissed him back, your lips moving against his with the same desperate want and need. 

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” you replied, fingers moving through his curls gently. He groaned, his hands finding your hips. He pushed his hips against yours, grinding against you slightly. A slight moan left your lips as your eyes closed and your head fell back against the door. “Fuck, Eddie,” you sighed.

He moaned a little too loudly when he heard you say his name like that, a literal pitiful moan left his mouth as he kissed down your jawline to your neck. He attacked your neck with kisses and nips, his hips still moving against yours with a slow rhythm. “God, princess, you sound so good saying my name like that,” he mumbled, biting down on your neck a little rougher. ”You don’t know how bad I want you.”

You whined at the bite, eyes opening to look down at Eddie. Your fingers ran through his curls, tugging them gently before you looked around his room. Your eyes caught sight of the posters of you on his wall and an accidental laugh left your lips. Eddie pulled away from your neck and looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked, looking at you. “Did I do something wrong?” He continued, hoping you didn’t think this was a huge mistake. 

You giggled a little, shaking your head. “No, sorry, just, you have posters of me on your wall?” You asked, glancing back at the posters that sat above his bed and above his record player. 

Eddie’s cheeks turned a bright red as he turned his head, glancing at the two posters you were talking about. “Look, I just, they came with your vinyl!” He replied, trying to prove a point. “What else am I supposed to do? Let them sit in my closet and collect dust, I mean, look at you!” He added, frantically hoping this wasn’t a weird deal breaker for you. 

Your right hand moved to his face, caressing his cheek gently before you turned his head back to face you. “You’re cute, you know that?” You asked, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. “A perfect little fanboy,” you added, kissing his lips again. ”My fanboy.”

“Fuck, yeah,” he nodded, looking at you. “Definitely your fanboy,” he replied, kissing you again. “I wanna make you feel good, please, can I?” He asked, pulling you towards his bed. You nodded, following after him. 

He tugged your sweatshirt up, pulling it up and over your body before discarding it on the floor. He laid you back on his bed gently and crawled on top of you, kissing your lips softly. Slowly, he kissed down your neck and over your chest. Eddie left soft and sweet kisses between your breasts and down your stomach, stopping right above the button of your jeans. He looked up at you, brown eyes glowing and waiting for you to give him the okay to continue.

When you nodded your head, he undid your baggy jeans. You lifted your hips gently, allowing him easier access. He pulled your jeans off gently, tossing them on the floor with your sweatshirt. He sat up on his knees, looking down at you. 

His eyes roamed over your body, committing everything to memory as you laid in front of him in your bra and panties. 

“You’re so beautiful, princess. Fuck,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. “Can I taste you? Please? Been dying to know what you taste like,” he begged, looking at you. 

“Fucking hell, yes. Please,” you replied, watching him pull your panties down. He left soft and sweet kisses on your inner thighs, slowly pushing your legs apart. He looked up at you as he licked a small stripe up your folds, moaning to himself as he tasted you. 

Fuck. You tasted better than he had imagined. So sweet, so… perfect. 

He licked up your folds again, his hands moving under your thighs as he pulled you closer to him, thighs now resting on his shoulders. You moaned softly, fingers tangling into his hair as you watched him. He left soft kisses on your clit, looking up at you as he did so. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you mumbled, tugging on his curls gently. “You’re good with your mouth, ah,” you added. He groaned at your words, tongue flicking over your clit gently before he sucked on it. His right hand moved closer to your core, his pointer finger and middle fingers teasing your entrance before slowly pushing into you. You gasped at the feeling, back arching up slightly as he slowly began pumping his fingers in and out of you while simultaneously sucking on your clit. “Jesus, Eds,” you whined, pulling on his hair tighter. He groaned against you, speeding up his movements with his fingers. 

“God,” he sighed, looking up at you. “God, you’re so… hot. You’re just so fucking hot. So fucking beautiful, you sound so pretty when you’re saying my name like that. You look so pretty like that. You’re just so… perfect.” Eddie said, leaving more kisses on your inner thighs before he bit down gently, leaving a small mark on your inner thigh. 

You moaned, grinding against his fingers. “Fuck, you gonna mark me up as yours?” You asked softly, watching him leave more bite marks across your thighs. He moaned against your thigh, his hips thrusting against the bed gently at the thought. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, nodding up at you. “Gonna make you all mine.” He bit down on the plush skin of your thigh again, his fingers curling inside of you as he pumped them. He kissed back up your body, face now inches from yours as he slowed the movements of his fingers. He pumped them slowly, curling them with each pump as he kissed your lips gently.

You kissed him back, moaning as you tasted yourself on his lips. Your fingernails ran down his back gently, scratching at the fabric of his shirt. “Eddie–ah,” you whined, moving your hips up again, grinding against his fingers as he curled them perfectly, hitting your sweet spot. “Gonna, ah, shit, gonna cum,” you moaned, kissing his lips a bit rougher than before. 

“Fuck, princess, cum for me,” Eddie groaned against your lips, speeding up his movements again. You whined his name, head falling back on his pillows as you clenched around his fingers, releasing your juices onto them with a loud moan. He pumped his fingers a bit more, helping you ride out your high as you fell back on his bed. You caught your breath, looking up at him with a sigh. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, bringing them to his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean of your juices and moaned, looking at you. “Good god, baby, you taste amazing.” 

You blushed and looked up at him, “yeah?” You asked, smiling slightly. You sat up carefully and kissed his lips. “I bet you taste even better,” you mumbled, reaching for his shirt. You pulled it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor. You pushed him back onto his bed and straddled his lap, kissing his lips desperately. Eddie kissed you with the same desperation as his hands moved behind your back, undoing your bra gently. You slid your bra down your body, throwing it to the ground. 

You left soft and sweet kisses down his neck, chest and stomach. When you reached his jeans you left soft kisses on his erection through the denim, looking up at him as you did. You left a flirty wink before you ran your nails along his lower stomach, running over the soft hair that sat directly above his waistband.

Eddie’s breath hitched as he watched you, groaning at the sight in front of him. He had dreamed of this moment more times than he could count but never in a million years did he think it would actually happen. Like, really? Were you real right now? Or was he passed out at the bar in the Hideout?

“Can I take these off?” You asked, looking up at him as you played with the hem of his jeans. He nodded, pushing your hair out of your face gently before running his fingers through it.

“Please, princess,” he said, looking down at you. You undid his jeans quickly, pulling them down. He moved his hips up, making it easier for you to free him from his denim pants. You tossed them behind you and they landed on the floor with a thud. Your nails ran up his thighs and over the fabric of his boxers before you slid your fingers under the waistband, tugging them down gently. 

As you tugged his boxers down, his rock hard erection sprung free, hitting his stomach. You looked up at him, sinking down between his thighs.

“Well, you’re so pretty,” you mumbled, hand wrapping around the base of his cock gently. “So pretty and so big,” you commented, pumping him in your hand slowly. “Not sure if I can take all of this in my mouth but, I really want to try,” you mumbled, looking up at him as you kissed the tip of his cock. “That okay?” You asked, your tongue flicking over the slit on his tip.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie moaned, watching you. “More than okay, fuck. Please, do anything you want to me, I’m yours.” You smiled, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock gently. You sucked on it slowly, moaning around him. Eddie whined, his hand running through your hair again as he gathered it gently at the back of your head. 

You moved your head down slowly, taking more of him in your mouth. He watched you, pulling your hair gently as you moved to take more and more of him in your mouth. You made it down about three quarters of the way before you gagged slightly, pulling back from him. You pumped him in your hand and looked up at him. “You’re so big, I’m not sure I can do it,” you said softly, moving back to suck on the tip of his cock gently.

“Fuck, princess, that’s okay,” he groaned, tugging on your locks again. You bobbed your head slightly, taking more of him in your mouth. 

Eddie couldn’t believe what he was seeing; this was definitely everything he imagined and more. Sure, he’d pictured you sucking his cock, but he never thought it would be too big for you to take fully in your mouth. God, you were somehow boosting his ego without even trying. Your sweet eyes looked up at him as you struggled to take him all in his mouth. Every so often you’d gag around him and pull back before going back to what you were doing. 

He moaned every time, watching you proceed to go deeper and deeper for him. He pulled your hair tighter and closed his eyes, groaning as you got him all in your mouth. You moaned around him, looking up at him. He bucked his hips up, causing you to gag loudly but stay where you were, trying to fight through the pain and uncomfort.

“Fuck, baby girl, keep doing that and I’m gonna cum.” Eddie groaned as you went back to bobbing your head slightly. He moaned your name as you took all of him in your mouth again, and he thrusted his hips up against your mouth. He tugged your hair so tightly as he panted, releasing ropes of cum into your mouth. You groaned around him, swallowing it all before you pulled away, leaving a soft kiss on the tip of his cock again. “Holy shit,” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head. “That was better than I had ever imagined.”

“You’ve… imagined that?” You asked, tilting your head slightly as you sat back on your knees on his bed. Eddie sat up, his face turning a bright red color yet again. Damn, he was really out here exposing himself to you, wasn’t he?

“I, uh,” he stuttered, looking around the room. “…no?” He said, sounding more like a question than a statement. “No, because that would be weird and not right.” He mumbled, a giggle escaped your lips as you moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“You sure?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked at him. “Because, I think you’re lying.” You mumbled, fingers trailing small circles on his chest. 

“And if I am?” He asked softly, hands moving to hold your hips. 

“I think that’s really hot…” you replied, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. He groaned against your lips and kissed you back, pulling you closer to him. He laid you back on the bed softly and hovered over you, looking down at you. 

“You are just so incredibly beautiful,” he mumbled, leaving soft kisses on your neck. “I still cannot believe this is happening,” he added, his right hand roaming over your body. He moved up to your chest, squeezing your left breast gently as he continued to kiss down your neck and upper chest. He kissed over right breast, tongue flicking over your hardened nipple. You moaned softly, hands tangling into his hair gently. 

“You’re so sweet,” you purred, tugging on Eddie’s locks. He moaned at the feeling and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking on it softly. You gasped at the feeling, head falling back on the pillows. “Fucking shit, Eddie, I think I’m going to need you to fuck me.” You mumbled, Eddie’s head shot up, looking down at you.

“Yeah?” He asked, sitting up gently. “You want me to fuck you, princess?” He asked, moving towards his bedside table for a condom.

“Want you to fuck me,” you mumbled, running your fingers over his bicep gently as he fished for a condom. “Need you to fuck me,” you added, nails scratching up and down his muscular biceps more.

“Fuck,” he groaned, opening the condom. He stood up, pumping his cock a few times before he slid the condom on slowly. He stood at the edge of his bed and grabbed your thighs gently, pulling you towards him. You squealed softly, looking up at him as he lifted your thighs, moving closer towards you. He teased your folds with the tip of his cock before he pushed in slowly, moaning as he felt you around him. 

You gasped at the feeling, looking up at him. “Eddie,” you whined softly, eyes closing slightly.

“Fuck, princess,” he groaned, filling you up completely. He stayed still for a second before he started to thrust in and out of you slowly. He pulled you closer and your legs wrapped around his body, holding him against you. “Shit,” he mumbled, hands moving down to your breasts. He squeezed your breasts, massaging them as he continued to thrust in and out of you. “So pretty like this, fuck. You look so pretty taking my cock,” he groaned out, leaning down to kiss your lips.

You groaned and kissed him back, hands wrapping around his wrists as he continued to thrust. He picked up the pace a bit, thrusting faster and deeper as he squeezed your breasts harder. 

“Ah, fuck, Eddie, shit,” you moaned, moving your hips against him as he thrusted. “Shit, fuck, you’re so big. You fill me up, god, fuck, made just for me, my perfect fanboy,” you whined, lips moving against his with desperate kisses. He moaned louder, thrusting deeper.

“Fuck, yeah. I’m your fanboy,” he groaned, biting your bottom lip gently before he tugged on it. “You’re my popstar, favorite one ever. Taking my cock so good and sounding so pretty, fuck, your moans sound prettier than your music.”

Eddie released your breasts from his hands and moved his left hand down to where your bodies were connected, rubbing slow and tight circles on your clit. A loud moan escaped your lips as your back arched off the bed, looking up at him. “Eddie, shit,” you moaned, nails scratching down his biceps again. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Yeah?” He asked, thrusting faster. “Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Gonna cum on my cock? Gonna cum on your favorite fanboy’s cock?”

You moaned, nodding your head repeatedly. “Yeah, fuck, gonna cum on my favorite fanboy’s cock,” you said blissed out as you felt your high come closer. Eddie made one more deep thrust and felt you clench around him. Your head fell back on the bed as you released around his cock, whining at the feeling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered.

“God, fuck, you’re so pretty baby,” Eddie groaned, “I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“Yeah? Fuck, cum for me pretty boy,” you sighed, feeling completely blissed out. “My perfect little fanboy.” Your legs tightened around his waist, holding him close to you and inside of you. Eddie moaned at your words, his cock twitching inside of you as he released into the condom. He made a couple more thrusts before he groaned. Your legs fell back down and Eddie pulled out of you, helping you steady yourself so you didn’t fall off the bed.

He placed his hands out for you to grab and helped you sit up on the bed gently. You smiled slightly and sat on the edge of his bed, looking at him. “You’re so perfect,” he sighed, leaning in to give you a soft kiss on the lips. He reached for your panties and his Metallica shirt, handing them to you before he slid the condom off, tying it up before throwing it in the trash. You accepted the shirt and panties, sliding them both on before falling back on his bed. He chuckled slightly, looking at you. “You okay, princess?” He asked, you looked at him and nodded.

“Yeah, you just took a lot out of me, fuck, you’re amazing,” you said, smiling at him. “And, you’re coming to bed with me… right?” You asked, he shuffled towards you and smiled.

“As if that’s even a question.” He grabbed his boxers from the floor and slid them on before laying down in the bed, wrapping his arm around your waist gently.

You moved towards him, a smile on your face as you rested your head on his chest. He left a soft kiss on the top of your head and hummed, closing his eyes.

You giggled softly and he opened his eyes, looking down at you. “What?” He asked, pushing your hair out of your face gently with his finger tips. 

“A poster on the ceiling? Really?” You giggled more, pointing to the poster of you on the ceiling. He blushed softly, groaning as he covered his face with his hand. 

“Please don’t start with me,” he mumbled. 

“My perfect little fan boy, huh?” You teased and he turned bright red. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” He sighed, leaving another soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Oh, I will.” You said, snuggling into his side more as you closed your eyes again. 

Eddie held you close to his body and smiled a little. Tonight was different for him, he didn’t need to listen to your music to help him sleep. Instead, he was able to hold you in bed, listening to your breathing and soft snores.

Yeah, this was way better. 

Eddie woke up the next morning to some knocks on the front door of the trailer. He grunted, rolling out of bed gently. He found a dirty shirt from the floor and slid it on over his body. He stretched, groaning as the knocking continued. He looked at your sleeping form and smiled, remembering everything that happened the night before. He leaned down, leaving a soft kiss on your head before he shifted towards the front door of the trailer.

He glanced around and shrugged when he didn’t see his uncle, huh, must be working a double. 

Eddie opened the front door, Gareth and Jeff standing on the other side. “What?” Eddie groaned, rubbing his face as he leaned against the door.

“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Gareth teased, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’re just checking in on you,” Jeff added, shooting Gareth a glare.

“I’m fine, why?” Eddie yawned, looking at his friends with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, how were we supposed to know? You left us at the Hideout and just disappeared.” Gareth shot back with a snark tone.

“Damn, chill,” Jeff said, looking at Gareth. “It was his birthday, he probably got wasted and came home to sleep it off.”

Eddie went to open his mouth and reply but he was cut off by you. You called his name and walked towards him in your panties and his Metallica shirt from the night before.

“Eddie,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You left me alone in bed,” you added, leaving a soft kiss on his neck.

“Sorry, princess,” Eddie said with a small smirk, arm wrapping around your shoulder gently. 

“It’s okay,” you shrugged, looking up at his friends. You remembered Gareth but didn’t know his other friend. “Oh!” You smiled, nodding at his friends. “Gareth, right? And, I’m so sorry, but I don't believe we have met yet,” you added, looking at Jeff.

“Gareth, yeah,” Gareth replied, staring at you.

“Jeff,” Jeff said, sticking his hand out for you to shake. You smiled and shook it gently.

“Nice to meet you, Jeff. Good to see you again, Gareth.” You smiled at the boys before turning your attention back to Eddie. “Come back to bed when you can, yeah?” You asked, placing a soft kiss on his lips before you turned back towards his room. 

Gareth and Jeff both stared at you as you walked away, retreating back to Eddie’s room with a slight shake of your hips. 

“There’s no fucking way.” Gareth said, looking back at Eddie. “Seriously?! You took her home?!” He questioned, the sound of jealousy evident in his voice. 

“Yeah, I did; so what?” Eddie smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door. 

“Fuck,” Jeff muttered, still looking in the direction you went.

“Oh,” Eddie mumbled, remembering something. “Thanks for those VIP meet and greet tickets, Jeffy boy.” Eddie smirked. “Now, I must be going, have a good day.” 

Gareth and Jeff just shared a look as Eddie closed the door in their faces, making his way back to his room to be with you again.

eddie tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @earthlyangelbby ; @jasminelafleur

UGHH buying a specially made strap for him😋😋

Subby!Silco Headcannons 😋

Content Warnings: Subby!Silco, GN!Reader, oral (reader receiving), oral (male receiving), fingering (reader receiving), p in v/a sex, begging, dom/sub, edging, pegging/Silco getting fucked, cum permission

Obviously NSFW below the cut!!

• To cut to the chase, giving head is undeniably one of his his favorites, there's nothing quite like it.

• Your ass hanging off his desk and his head buried between your thighs, he'll stay there for hours.

• Orgasm after orgasm he begs you to let him keep going, to taste you more.

• "Please, sweetheart, one more. Please please please, I know you're so tired but I just need more of you, this is the last one. Mmm, god, you taste so good..."

• His hands are busy as they'll ever be, one holding your thigh and the other making quick work of his cock as he edges himself through the whole thing, not cumming until after he's done with you and you tell him he can.

• He'll beg for that too.

• "Please, let me cum, please, oh- fuck! I'm so close, I did so well, will you let me cum?"

• He loves to finger you, to watch you squirm when he crooks his fingers just the right way; he certainly loves hearing you call out his name and praise him for his work.

• Sex leaves him fucked-out and it's beautiful, watching how disheveled and utterly speechless he is as you ride the life out of him or as he fucks his cum into you.

• Will beg for you to ride him, and he takes full advantage of the perks when you do, holding your chest and touching you constantly.

• Fucking him (w/ dick or strap) is a surreal experience, seeing such a strong pillar of Zaun leadership reduced to a twitching, horny puddle that will do anything for you to fuck him until he can't think.

• He squirms a lot, readjusting his grip on anything he can find, rutting his hips against you, there's too much energy in it for him to stop moving.

• The noises he makes are completely insane, nothing one could ever imagine coming from Zaun's Kingpin Industrialist.

• Moans and gasps, sometimes whines and higher-pitched cries, feral sobs and babblings of your name to not stop, go faster, harder...

• "Oh my god oh my godohmygod! Keep going please oh my god keep going! Just like that, make me cum, please- ah!"

• Will do anything to have your mouth on his cock, but he almost never asks for it, it's always a reward, but he loves the feeling.

• Will throat fuck you if you let him and despite the control you give him in doing so, he still only cums with permission.

• "Thank you, oh my god thank you. Ha! Do that again with your tongue p-please- oh my- fuck!"

• Calling him "good boy" induces a surprisingly physical reaction along with likely a whimper or moan, but he won't say he's your good boy.

Coming back to this bc I genuinely fucking heart sub silco sm😍

I WILL fuck that old ass man

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, barely intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

Would cream my pants tbh😋

Looking in her eyes and saying, “Make it hurt please.”

loser bf! RODRICK HEFFLEY hc

tags — fem!reader﹒sfw + nsfw﹒headcanons

loser bf!rodrick, who makes a huge show of pda whenever his brother is around. he’ll sling his arm around your shoulder and be like, “yeah, greg. my girlfriend. isn’t she hot?” greg is still fully convinced rodrick’s paying you to be his fake girlfriend, though he has no idea where he’s got the money.

loser bf!rodrick, who lets you sit in on band practice and tries so hard to keep it together, but the second his bandmates start flirting with you, he completely falls apart. his drumming gets so off-tempo that they have to stop and start over.

loser bf!rodrick, who lent you his algebra textbook and completely forgot he’d been doodling your name with his last name all over the margins. when you handed it back, smirking, he looked like he wanted to die.

loser bf!rodrick, whose idea of a date is a night drive to the gas station, where you both load up on slushies and hot dogs. you sit in the parking lot and steal bites off each other’s food (even though you have the same toppings)

loser bf!rodrick, who awkwardly asked his mom to use the “nice-smelling” laundry detergent on his shirts because he knows you like to steal them after having sex and he doesn’t want you thinking he’s gross.

loser bf!rodrick, whose mom acts like you’re already part of the family, offering you snacks and calling you “sweetie” every time you visit. she loves to (unintentionally) embarrassing her eldest son by showing you all of his baby pictures. all the while rodrick hides in the basement.

loser bf!rodrick, whose dad corners you during family dinners and awkwardly tries to sell you on how “rodrick is really a fine young man, despite, uh… some quirks.” you just nod politely while rodrick sits there, sinking into his chair with a beet-red face.

loser bf!rodrick, whose bandmates are constantly making moves on you, asking if you “need anything” during practice or offering to carry your stuff. rodrick will get so pissed that he threatens to kick them out of the band. you think it’s hilarious how defensive he gets.

loser bf!rodrick, who always gives you the front seat in his van, no questions asked. greg has to squish in the back with the instruments, too bad lol.

loser bf!rodrick, who pretends to be terrible at eyeliner just so you’ll do it for him. in return, he paints your nails—or you can also paint his (in exclusively black).

loser bf!rodrick, who acts reluctant whenever you drag him into photobooths at the mall. the two of you end up making the dumbest faces before you lean in and kiss him right on the mouth… with tongue.

loser bf!rodrick, who lets you doodle on his arm with a sharpie, and he refuses to wash them off. they stay there until they fade completely.

loser bf!rodrick, who finally starts wearing deodorant consistently because of you. it’s not even something you asked him to do—he just noticed you sniffing his shirts a little more critically and panicked. now, he’s always freshly applied before seeing you.

loser bf!rodrick, who gets hard every time you kiss him.

loser bf!rodrick, who tries his best to keep his room somewhat presentable whenever you come over. he knows it’s still a fucking disaster by normal standards, but for rodrick, clearing a path to the bed is a grand romantic gesture.

loser bf!rodrick, who’s obsessed so with seeing your hickeys on him. he never bothers to hide them—in fact, he wears them like badges.

loser bf!rodrick, who almost accidentally used the wrong side of the condom when you had sex for the first time.

loser bf!rodrick, who absolutely melts when you tug on his hair during sex. he didn’t even realise he had a thing for it until the first time you did it. now, he practically begs for it without using words, tilting his head back and grinning like a total idiot whenever your fingers get close.

loser bf!rodrick, who keeps every random thing you’ve ever given him — notes you’ve passed to him in class, concert tickets, even candy wrappers.

loser bf!rodrick, who hates being bossed around but will do anything you ask, especially if it involves you kissing his cheek or ruffling his hair in thanks. he’s so whipped and everyone knows it.

loser bf!rodrick, who brags to greg about how sexy and smart and pretty you are, just to rub it in, but secretly feels like he doesn’t deserve you. he gets this dumb, soft look on his face whenever you’re around, like he still can’t believe you chose him.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

Need this to happen irl🙏🏼

౨౿ rodrick who is such a loser, the first time you kissed he moaned into your mouth. his body leaning into yours, his hand sliding around your waist—the movement is so confident you think he’s getting cocky until you hear it, the light sound of satisfaction. you do nothing but smile into his lips before pulling away, “you’re cute.”

now, the loser loves making out with you sitting in his chair. your legs on either side of his hips as your shorts ride up your legs. to center himself like before, his warm hands slide from your hips to your sides, slightly making you shiver. your lips are wet with one another’s spit, both your heads spinning, noses hitting every now and again as you breathe in each other's air.

“rodrick!”

as if nothing has changed, noises slip from his mouth while you taste each other, your hand scratching into the short hair on the back of his head, not making him any better. his hands slide further up until he’s grabbing a handful of your breast but before you can even think about getting the shirt off greg’s voice takes over the room.

“rodrick, mom sa- EW!” the two of you pull away immediately, you look over at greg with a shocked expression while rodrick simply stuffs his face into your chest with a groan. he mumbles something, but it doesn’t reach either of your ears. “i think i’m gonna hurl,” greg says, making exaggerated gagging noises as he begins to leave. “oh my god,” rodrick moans into your chest in aggravation. he lifts his head to shoo greg from the room further, “get out.”

you hear the soles of greg’s feet hit each step as he leaves. rodrick leans back into the chair and you finally get to take a good look at him; his hair messy, his lips almost as pink as his cheeks, the pinkness creeping up his neck a little, lips slightly agape. you can only grin, “you’re really cute.”

NEED

Rocks at your window

- Donnie Darko ౨ৎ

Summary: Donnie sneaks through your window. You’re basically in a situationship.

Warnings: christian themes, cheating, Donnie is a creep, dom!Donnie, oral (f receiving), fingering, corruption/innocence.

Word count: 1050 ish

Notes: Maybe this is a bit rushed but it is what it is. Prob typos cause I’m lazy.

You were just about to fall asleep as the sound of rocks smattering against your window woke you up and had your eyes wide open. You reluctantly got up and gave Donnie a tired, half smile.

He climbed up the tree next to your window, and you let him in. Of course you did. Even though your parents hated him, even though he never showed up for church and even though your high school football boyfriend wanted him dead. This was your rebellion against it all.

He landed on your floor, his black converse stark against the pink rug. This wasn’t his first time here, yet his eyes still scanned your room as if it was. Maybe he liked to remind himself who he was corrupting. His eyes grazed the cross above your bed, the locked diary on your bedside table (which he snooped through whenever you went to the bathroom) and your pristine, white, unstained sheets. A testament to how unskilled your boyfriend was.

Donnie sat down on your bed. This was part of the routine. You plopped down next to him. Exchanged small talk. How are you? You looked nice at school today. Does your mom know you pin your skirt like that? This always ended in you blushing and him egging you on. “I read a bit of your diary last time I was here” Donnie spoke and your eyes instantly widened. “You really think about me when he fucks you?”

You felt like slipping through the mattress. You hated that word. “I didn’t think anyone would read it” you mumbled, as if it would save you. Donnie smiled at you, his ego multiplying by thousands. “He doesn’t do it like me?” Now it was a straight home-run, he had successfully caught you in his web. You shook your head. Getting trapped in recent memories of your boyfriend pushing your head down and flipping you over, quietly getting himself off as your mind slipped elsewhere.

Donnie’s hands crawled up your thighs beneath the night gown. “He doesn’t do this?” A light finger circled your clit through your panties. Your eyes shut close in an attempt to keep it together. “No” you managed to get out through your gritted teeth. “Not a very good boyfriend then.”

Donnie laid you down against your pillows, he always wanted you face up. You thought it was romantic, in reality he did it so he could watch you struggle to keep your mouth shut.

He pulled your underwear to the side and ran a finger through your wetness. “How long has my dirty girl gone without it?” His thumb spread the slick over your clit. “Two da-“ You began but quickly got interrupted. “No, not since you had sex, Since you came” Donnie clarified. Your eyes didn’t know where to look. You looked up, but the cross stared back down at you. So you settled on looking at Donnie, even though it felt like too much. “Two weeks.” Donnie gave you a pout, equally cruel as it was sweet. “Sweet girl can’t do it without me?” He said as one of his fingers entered you. He had the same look as the one you give the hunted rabbits on national geographic.

You didn’t know how to respond his question. Not because you didn’t have an answer, but because you weren’t sure if you could get the words out. So, instead, you whined and moved your hips down against his finger. You didn’t want him to go slow, though, Donnie might be tough to convince tonight. See, he had just jerked off to a picture of you before he came over. The one from the year book, where you’re sitting with your girlfriends on the grass in the sun. With a flower tucked behind your ear and a broad smile. To say he was spent was an understatement.

He entered another finger, and you had to bite your knuckle. If your parents found out, they’d most likely kill both of you. Donnie kept the torturous pace. His favorite part was when you couldn’t take it anymore and had to confess what you needed from him. He wasn’t about to give up seeing this sweet girl spout profanity tonight.

You gave Donnie a sigh. “Not enough?” he shot back. Your shaking head was met with a “dirty girl”, but no chance in action. You had played this game before and knew your way out was to speak. It made your chest clench when you did, but your thighs did the same; resulting in your head spinning with prayers, unclear to whom. “Want your mouth.” It was barely a whisper. Your cheeks flushed with shame and arousal.

Donnie dragged your underwear down, discarding them on your floor. He folded up your gown and laid down on his stomach, taking a second to appreciate the view.

The first moves of his tongue were frustrating. It circled around your folds and around your clit, never actually settling on it. His hot breath fanned against your wetness. Just as anger almost began to bubble inside you, he licked a stripe up from your hole to your clit. And stayed there, working small circles on it.

Even though Donnie was sure there was nothing left in him, he couldn’t help but slightly rut against your sheets. He had missed you so terribly recently. Finally, he was tasting you again, which was a hundred times better and more intense than burying his face in your stolen panties. The thought of your oblivion to this had him enveloping his lips around you.

You winced at the upped stimulation, his tongue flicked against you while the suction had you pulsating. Your hands grabbed onto his hair as you tried your best not to push him harder against you. His name echoed in your head as the pressure built, your thighs hugging the sides of his face.

You came with a held back, strained moan. Donnie’s chin was glistening as he came up smiling at you. After a kiss, he was out again, running across the street to his house.

Before falling asleep, you picked up your diary and wrote his name over and over again.

I'm gonna eat him😫

frank castle is the king of pet names. he uses every one in the book, almost excessively.

“you look gorgeous in that outfit, sweetheart. gonna have to beat off all the guys who stare at you.”

“you’re bein’ a real pain in my ass today, princess. do i need to give you an attitude adjustment or something?”

“cookin’ me dinner, angel? christ, how did i get so lucky?”

“i love seein’ you in my clothes, dollface. love when they smell like you.”

“how was your day, honey? what’d you get up to while i was gone?”

“hey sugar, you mind bringin’ me another cup of coffee?”

“morning, sunshine. thought you were gonna sleep all day. was wonderin’ if i was gonna have to come rescue you.”

“slow down, pumpkin, you’re gonna tire yourself out before we start. what’s the rush for?”

“you’re my baby, right? yeah, yeah you are. so sweet, just for me.”

“i put away the laundry and did the dishes for you, ma’am. anything else on your honey-do list, or can i watch the game?”

“look at you, darlin’. as pretty as the day i met you.”

I heart you guys

It's so nice being on tumblr because you don't even have to make your own post but people would still follow you anyways if you're good at rebloging posts they like

Screaming without the S

Private Dances 7

Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist

Summary: Blue comes to find you when he's in a bad mood.

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Smacking (in the face - Blue receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, oral sex (f!receiving) Blue crying, reader says Blue's crying turns them on, small argument - but like it's a scene, overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), not beta read, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 3100

Blue’s in a foul mood. Worse than foul. 

The tension in the air is heavy, spiked with electricity like the moment before a lightning strike. 

You’re helping Penny and Swan with the A Quarter stock check when you hear it: Blue’s yell. It’s harsh and sharp, cutting through the air like shattered glass despite how low the sound is. Anger radiates through the walls, his tone clear and precise even though the words and their meaning are muffled and lost. 

Penny and Swan jump at the first shout, poor Swan nearly dropping the items in her hands. Her fingers shake as he tries to compose herself. She’s fairly new and has never been under Blue’s direct warpath, but she’s heard enough stories to develop a healthy apprehension. 

Penny gives you a nervous glance, “That sounds bad.” 

You nod. 

“You…” Penny swallows, her eyes downcast. 

You know what she wants to ask. Can sense it. It’s almost like her words are echoing in your head, running along your synapses. It’s the same thing nearly everyone wants to ask, though no one has dared to yet. 

“Blue…” Penny tries again, breathing in as she searches for the right words. 

“You’re one of his favourites, right?” Swan blurts out. It’s funny almost, the bluntness of her words. But her eyes are wide and honest, and there’s a shine of fear in them that robs you of all humour. 

Penny tuts before you can answer, swatting Swan on her forearm. “You don’t just say that.” 

But why? You want to ask. Why is there this unspokenness to some things? No one had ever told you not to question, but it was ingrained anyway. 

“It’s alright.” You say and give them both a small smile. “It’s fine.” 

Swan rubs her arm and Penny looks relieved. 

“I know some of the… others,” Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, “aren’t too… they don’t like being asked.” 

But that wasn’t quite right; some of them didn’t mind either, some of them freely gave information when it wasn’t too much to talk about. Crystal was the only one where asking a question was like a flip of a coin. You never knew if you were going to get an answer, a vicious comment, or your eyes clawed out. 

Some twisted hierarchy. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” You repeat. 

“What’s he like?” Swan asks, a morbid curiosity in her voice. 

All you can think about is the scars on his skin, how soft his eyes look when you press against his windpipe, the quiet, wanton moans that pass his lips when you squeeze. 

You shrug, trying to find substantial words. “He’s…”

“A fucking monster.” Penny shakes her head at Swan. “Why are you asking Lion stuff like that? You know what he’s like.”

Swan frowns, “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Penny folds her arms. “It’s-”

The door flies open, smacking into the wall with a crack. 

Penny jumps while Swan lets out a little cry of surprise. 

You turn instinctively, your mind racing.

Blue storms into the room, a deep scowl etched into his face like a scar. His gaze first falls on Swan and she takes a sharp, shaky step backwards her eyes downcast. 

Without thinking, you take a step forward and Blue turns at the sound. His glare softens when he sees you, but barely. He doesn’t steak, just grabs your bicep and pulls you from the room. You stumble, his firm grip keeping you upright as he practically marches you to his office. 

The door is barely open before he drags you inside and spins you around to face him. 

You stay quiet, but fix him with a hard stare. 

He breathes heavily, his shoulders relaxing. He’s the one that blinks first, his eyelashes fluttering and then looking down as his grip on your arm relaxes. 

“What?” You ask simply, your voice firm but quiet. 

He shakes his head. 

You place your hand on his cheek and tilt his head upwards. “Blue?” 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his blinking heavily. “I… I should have…” 

You let him stumble over his words. 

“I… that was impolite… of me.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

He shakes his head again, but this time the action is not dismissive. You can see the cogs wiring in his mind as he tries to regulate his emotions. 

Softly, you rub your thumb against his cheek and he leans into the soothing motion. His breathing slows, his jaw loosens as he closes his eyes.

“The conversation with Gerald,” one of Blue’s lawyers, “about regulations… building permits.” 

Ah. This was to do with Blue’s planned expansion of the club.

“It didn’t,” he breathes deeply as he leans further into your touch. “I became… upset. I wanted…” He pauses again, opening his eyes to stare intently at you. “I needed to see you.” 

“There are better ways of getting my attention, aren’t there?” 

His nose wrinkles in displeasure. “Why were you even out there anyway?”

You go to drop your hand from his face but he grabs your wrist, squeezing slightly as he keeps you firmly against him. 

Rage sparks under your skin. “You want me to stay locked up in your rooms all day and night?” You hiss.

Your conversation with him the night before echoed in your ears. ‘You don’t have to do anything Lion, just stay here.’ Even though he hadn’t intended it to sound like a prison sentence, the idea still chilled you. Isolated from everyone but him. What happened if he just woke up one day and decided to throw you away? What happened when he did?

“Is that such a curse?” He growls, his eyes dark. 

Something in you snaps, the smallest thread of self-control splinters in your temple. You twist your hand, moving so that your fingers dig into one cheek, while your thumb presses against the other. You squeeze, tilting his head back. Feeling the indent of his teeth under your fingertips. 

Blue lets out a little gasp of surprise, his head falling back under the force of your grip. 

“Lion,” he lets out, broken and weak. 

You step closer. “What kind of fucking behaviour is this?” You whisper, letting your anger burn along your words. “I know we spoke about your reputation.” You sneer. “How it’s best for you to be perceived by others. But don’t you dare take that tone with me-”

“I’m sorry!” He sobs, his voice thick, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

You shake him slightly, a jolt that has him whimpering. 

“Never interrupt me.” 

His shoulders shake as he tries to fight down the wave of sobs that threaten to wreck his very core. 

You watch him with hard eyes. 

“Lion?” He whines. “Please, I’m so sorry-”

“I thought we were past this.” 

He breathes in shakily, tears spilling out and over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean, I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have been rude to you, I shouldn’t-” He bursts into full-blown tears, practical hysterics. Something that you haven’t seen from him before. 

You loosen your grip, wrapping your arms around him quickly and pulling him closer. “Shhh,” you rub his back, cradling his head as you soothe him. “Shhh, it’s alright.” 

“I didn’t,” he hiccups, trying to get air into his lungs and failing, “I didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to upset you. Disappoint you, I, I, I-”

You kiss his temple, gently leading him to the sofa, which is easier said than done while still holding him and his face pressed into your neck. 

As you sit down you take his cheeks in your hands, stroking his skin with your thumbs and smearing his tears. You kiss his nose and he smiles weakly while still crying. 

“Usually when I grab your face like that you get a boner.” You give him a soft look. 

He laughs once and nods, trying to calm himself down. 

“And we end up with your face between my thighs.” You keep your voice gentle and he swallows, nodding again. “Blue…”

He looks up at you, his eyes red. “I’m so sorry, Lion.”

You shake your head, about to tell him not to be when he puts his hands on your wrists. The touch is light this time as he lightly strokes your skin. “I was… I thought that was going to happen.” He says quietly. “I intended it to… To be our usual game.” He looks up at you a little nervously when he says ‘game’ and relaxes when you give him a warm smile. 

“Don’t be sorry.” You soothe. 

“I just… suddenly it felt…” He absentmindedly touches under his left collarbone, rubbing the thick, deep scar that you knew resided there. 

“It’s alright.” 

He nods. “Thank you.” 

Still cradling his cheeks, you kiss his temple, and then under his eyes, tasting the salt of his shed tears. 

He nuzzles into you, kissing your neck and chest over your clothes. You let him, kissing the top of his head and stroking his back. 

He moves lower slowly, pressing his lips to your thigh. 

“Blue,” you say softly, coaxing his face up so you can see him fully. “You don’t have to.” You don’t want him to think he has to perform, has to be constantly… oh. 

He gazes at you with heavily lidded eyes, his erection straining against his trousers. So much so you were sure he was going to pop a button. 

Lightly you trace along the edge of it with your fingernail and he groans, his eyelashes fluttering and still wet with tears as he smiles. 

“I’d like you too…” He swallows, already starting to feel like he’s floating. “I’d like you to ride me and…” he bites his lip, shivering. “I’d like you to smack me.” 

“Smack you?” You say, thinking back to when you had him across your lap. 

“Hmm,” he sighs dreamily, “here.” He touches his cheek. 

You’re not sure if this is such a good idea, especially after his sudden tears. “Blue-”

“Please Lion,” he bats his eyes and bites his lip. “Just sit on me, you don’t even have to move. Just keep,” he inches closer, almost swaying, like a predator about to pounce, “hitting me and let me come and I’ll clean up all my mess afterwards.” He rubs his nose against yours, slipping his tongue past your lips and kissing you desperately, drinking down your moan like a glutton. 

You wish it wasn’t so easy for him to coax you out of your clothes, for him to strip you bare while you were so distracted with his kiss. But there was a reason Blue was so used to getting his own way: he was undeniably persuasive. 

He has his suit jacket off, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone and his tie loosened when he pulls you into his lap. He keeps kissing you, keeps running his hands up and down your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

Blue groans into your mouth as he squeezes the outside of your thighs before he hastily unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He pulls his aching cock out in a hurry, almost rough with himself, a vast difference to how slowly and reverently he had undressed you. 

He squeezes the thick base with one hand, pulling his lips away from yours long enough to groan, “Hmm, Lion, please, can you- ah!” His gasp is sweet and pools heat in your belly as you take him in hand and guide him between your folds. 

He lets you take control immediately, gasping as you glide his leaking tip through the wetness between your legs before you press him to your clit. 

He moans deeply, his eyes blown wide. “Lion,” He swallows, his throat bobbing, “God, you’re so wet, does seeing me cry turn you on?” There’s the smallest grin on his lips, and even though you know it is just a tease, you can’t help yourself. 

You squeeze the base of his cock a little hard and his eyes roll back. He lets out a harsh groan as he squirms. You know, for most, the action would be painful. 

“God Lion, please, you’ll make me come before I’m even inside.” He whimpers, his voice strained. He presses his head back against the sofa, trying to gain some control over himself, and grabs hold of your hips, squeezing his fingers into your sides. 

You chuckle and slowly press his fat tip to your entrance. There’s the smallest resistance before he breaches.

Blue swears, his eyes rolling back. His neck taut and exposed to you as he leans back. 

You spread your knees a little wider as you ease yourself down onto him. “It does, by the way.” 

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with hazy eyes, already drunk on the feel of you. 

“Seeing you cry turns me on.” 

“Fuck.” He tenses, the base of his cock pulsing. It takes all his will in the world to not come there and then.

You smile, stroking his hair as you sink further down. “That desperate for me?” 

He nods rapidly. “Yes, Lion, yes, so desperate.” He moans loudly as your thighs meet his, finally swallowing him to the hilt. “Thank you, thank you.” He whispers, blinking hard.

“Are you sure you want me to hit you here?” You trace a heart over his left cheek with the tip of your finger and he nods. 

“Please.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

“I will, I promise.” He looks up at you, staring like you were the one who placed the stars into the sky. “I trust you, Lion.” 

You kiss him softly before you sit up fully. Blue hisses at the change of angle, his cock twitching as it rubbed against your walls. 

“Ready?” 

He manages to nod once before your palm collides with his cheek. The sound is sharp. It echoes like a bell ringing loudly in your ears. Blue’s face snaps to the side at impact, your hand tingles with the force. 

But his deep gasp and moan quickly alleviates any worry you had. 

He turns back to face you, his cheek already growing red. “Again.” 

You smack him. Harder this time. 

He turns quickly. “Again.”

Smack.

“Again.”

Smack.

“Agai-”

Smack.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Blue wimpers, his body singing as the pain mixes dizzyingly in his veins. He can taste iron in his mouth. But it doesn’t stop him from turning back to face you.

Smack.

He gasps, groaning as his hips buck once, his back arching. Pleasure rushes over him, pulling him deliciously high before dragging him down, down, down into dark, sweet depths. He spurts inside you, warm and copious, filling you to the brim and trickling down his balls. 

He squeezes you as he comes, shuddering and shivering until he blinks heavily. 

You’re holding him close and tight, and he’s never been safer than this moment. Never been more protected than in your arms. 

He moves slowly and you loosen your grip so he can look up at you, dazed and happy. 

He doesn’t like how your eyes widen when you look at him. 

“Blue,” you swallow. There’s red in his teeth. You go to touch his lip and stop yourself. 

“Oh,” he runs his tongue over his incisors, and chuckles. “Just a small cut.” He pokes out his bottom lip to show you, he’s right. It is a small thing. “I think that was from the third hit.” 

“Blue-”

“It was so good, Lion. Please,” he strokes your cheek. “Don’t worry. I would have stopped you if it wasn’t, I promised didn’t I?” 

You nod, still a little uncertain. Your worry distracts you momentarily, and Blue leans up quickly to kiss you. He licks into your mouth, groaning as his blood hits your tongue. 

You take a sharp intake of breath, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back harshly, lightly nipping at his lip and squeezing his shoulders when he moans. 

Gently, he coaxes you around so that he can lay you back against the sofa, with the armrest behind your head. 

He hisses as he pulls out, part of him already lamenting being away from you, but the sight of his spend dripping out of you makes him groan. 

“Oh, yes Lion,” he presses at your thighs, spreading you wider. “A feast.” 

You gasp as he dives to your core, dragging his warm tongue slowly through your folds in one long lick. He watches you intently as he runs over your clit, ending with a flick before he starts the whole process over again.

You jump, squirm, thrusting closer to his mouth and groaning when he uses one hand to press against your soft stomach, keeping you in place as he continues his languid torture. 

He refuses to go faster, to even sink his tongue in deeper, no matter how much you beg and pull at his hair. Always keeping up that same firm pressure and drawn out pace that is starting to make you lose your grip on reality. 

“Blue,” you plead, wriggle, your clit throbbing as he makes another slow trek through your pussy before his tongue can soothe the ache in your bundle of nerves. 

But even as he reaches that part you need his touch so desperately, it isn’t nearly long enough. You buck, trying to get just a little tiny bit more of that pressure, but it’s fruitless. 

“Blue,” you moan again, your tights shaking. Your stomach is pulled so tight you think you might explode, that heavy throb is painful. Maddening. 

He starts up again, groaning as he licks and, “Fuck,” you shiver, shake as he just drags over your clit, even slower than before, pushing firmer and, and-

You scream, your muscles tensing and spasming as pleasure explodes along your nerves, runs along your veins and overtakes your very being. 

You shiver in his arms as he swirls his tongue over your bundle of nerves again and again, watching you with lust blown eyes as he prolongs your pleasure for as long as he can. 

You sob, shaking with aftershocks as, finally, you start to recover. 

Blue places a light kiss to your core, then belly, before he moves up and settles back between your legs. He’s smiling as he strokes your cheek, looking the most content you’ve ever seen him. 

Lightly you trace his moustache, it’s soaking with his spit and your come. 

Sweat cools on your skin, and you notice the state of his shirt. “You’re going to need to change.” You tease and he laughs. 

Thank you for reading!

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😵‍💫🎀

Fat girls are hot.

You agree. Reblog.

😋😋

sorry if you've answered this already but do you think one day you just let a 'Daddy' slip around Frank like maybe you were just overwhelmed and everything was realllyy good and it just slipped and Frank took it in stride, obviously very proud you felt so safe and so reliant on him ooor is Daddy!Frank something that Frank would want discussed before hand??

Honestly I think Frank is into this regardless. I know daddy stuff really isn't for everyone and I totally get it but it's really just an expression of Soft Dom dynamics for me and Frank is like the ultimate soft dom so it just fits. Now I don't think it would activate like FULL KINK MODE but he'd still be into it majorly.

If you let slip a whiny "please daddy" as you're in his lap, a naked squirming mess at the way he made you wait for his cock, with your arms wrapped around his neck like a vice? YEAH THAT'LL DO IT FOR HIM.

He'd act with such a swiftness. It's like you said the secret word and he'd be like "shit I didn't know it was like that." Sure he was trying to make you needy but he'd feel like he unlocked a new level of needy and one that demanded his immediate attention.

He'd suddenly get all coo-y and determined, like "Yeah you need Daddy? Daddy's gonna take care of you alright?" as he's filling you so deep in the belly you can barely speak. He'd cradle the back of your head to his chest and he grunted and pumped into you, holding you close to his chest so you could come apart however you needed.

Sick of masturbating i want someone to rail me until i cant see straight

tomboyism is so funny to me. gender non-conformity for girls is acceptable for like two minutes between the ages of 8 and 10. beyond that it’s appalling and you’re a freak but for those two years…… they could’ve had it all

subby romey getting overstimmed,,? in a nice way? 🫠

of course nice. we’re all nice here, right? looks around the room

Roman is a crybaby. Hey, to an extent, he deserves to be, and it kind of validates you, because he’s not uninterested in making you cry about half of the time. But he’s also mean, so mean, and he takes your kindness like a snippy dog at first.

It’d start off with him burying his face in your hair. You’re jerking him off on the couch as Truly, Madly, Deeply plays. What? It’s romcom night! He’s not really watching anyways, he’s got his eyes closed and his pants pulled down to his mid-thigh, still dressed in his work clothes aside from the shoes he’d kicked off as soon as he walked through the door. He’d make little whines and mumble stuff and slowly stutter his hips up to fuck your hand in return. he tries to imagine it’s your hole — any of ‘em, really.

“Thank you, baby, good job, taking over like that,” you encourage when he slams his hips in a nice little rhythm that still stutters and falters, but it’s almost like he thinks he’s fucking you. He cums like he is, with a quick, “oh ff-fuck,” mere seconds before he creams your hand, pulling back to make sure your palm catches it as it spurts out the tip. It drips down his dick and onto his balls, but at least it didn’t hit your face or his shirt. He thanks god his instincts saved him some minor embarrassment.

But your hand doesn’t stop. you keep on keepin’ on, even as he softens. He squirms, and jolts when you lean to cup his balls.

“Fuck you, what am I, your joystick?” he whines as you massage his sack and jerk his cock.

“Just one more. I barely got to enjoy it the first time, you came so quick.” He moans at that, thighs clenching.

“Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, kissing down your neck to your collarbone. It’s more for him than you, really. He likes your taste, breathes deeply in shaky, sharp breaths. He sounds like he’s getting hurt, like someone just knocked the breath from his lungs. He softens, a little more than you like. You straddle him.

“What do you want,” you say it as a soft demand. It’s less of a question. “Speak, use your big boy words.” It’s like you’re talking to a dog — a very beloved dog, one you let sleep at the end of your bed.

“In the whole world, or—?”

“You know.”

“This’n,” he slips his hands under your skirt. Feels around, finds your pussy lips, pulls them apart at the front through your panties. His eyes can’t see through fabric, and he doesn’t lift the skirt, he’s just being sort of sweet, you think; innocent, almost. Which is surprising when you consider that he’s basically the devil any other time.

“What’s ‘this one’? Hm?” you ask sweetly, like coaxing his obedience, like making him say it out loud is comparable to making a dog do a trick.

“Your cunt? Pussy? The slip-n-slide in? Do you just like hearing dirty words?”

“You know what to say,” you say, kissing the arch of his nose and then the tip. God, you don’t ride his face enough, you gotta do that more often, utilize his assets.

He whines and bucks his hips, cock jostling and jumping. You’re so beautiful above him. Why does he think he can treat you like this? You’re not one to joke with. You’re a goddess. Your presence is so unique. Irreplaceable. You’re strong, tough in ways he’s not sure he can really replicate. He’d have to either kill himself or become the next unabomber if you left him. There’d be nothing left of him, no remnants, not a scrap.

“Your royal hotness, may you please stick my teenie-weenie in your peeeeeerrrfect puss-puss?” he has a giggle, a drunken one. Your feet curl under the backs of his knees. He likes their warmth, he likes that it makes him feel both big and strong while also being your fucking accessory. You can climb all over him if you want.

“Nope. Try again,” you allow him a second attempt, knowing that he’s still high off of having just came and still twitchy. You grind down on his soft cock.

“C-Caaaaann…I please, please use your pussy?” His hands grip your upper thighs.

“My what? My what pussy? Is it nice?” you decide to coax, tease him, playfully bully him even, into being sweet.

“No, it’s mean—,” he says, half-joking. “Yeah, yeah your pussy is nice. It’s…pretty. It’s warm. Your pretty pussy.” All the blood is rushing from his brain back to his oversensitive cock at the thought of it.

“Good. Nice boy,” you clumsily fumble on his lap to tug your panties down and off. “Real good job.” Your skirt is lifted, held in your hands.

He’s salivating. Literally feels his mouth water a little bit. His eyes are staring, just completely entranced by your pussy, gentle hands softer than you can imagine spreading your pussy lips and drooling over your clit.

He grabs his dick, lines it up with your hole. You’ll allow it, you’ll clench over his pulsing, leaking tip begging to be let in and grin as he lets out some breathy, sharp exhale. His brain is marshmallow fluff, a fluffernutter sandwich, and his hips twitch up to try at slipping the tip inside, just the tip, please.

“Uhn-uhn,” you angle your hips in a position where his tip is still pressed against your hole, but you know he can’t get in. “You can’t handle that right now.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbles, so immature. “Yes I can. I’m — do you think I’m some cuck, king of celibate town?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence where he kind of cedes his case. Like yeah, okay, you might be just kidding, but you’re kind of right, so I give up. He’s all pouty and twitchy. You roll your hips, his tip slips from the home it’s made, edging at your pussy, and the girth of his cock spreads between the puffiness of your labia. It has you both a little surprised by how good it feels.

“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” he whines, hips twitching up and down in an almost embarrassing fashion, slightly out of control in his own body from having came mere minutes ago and now this. Yeah, maybe he can’t handle being inside, but he wants to be close to you. You’re ruining his whole ‘romance’ thing.

“Then it’s perfect for you,” you say, riding his cock — except, his cock between your pussy lips. He grips tight, whining, bucking his hips beneath you as you try to keep a steady pace. His eyes look watery.

“Mean. You are mean tonight, bitch,” his voice wobbles. It’s so, so silly, because you know he’s exactly where he wants to be right now, and it puts you in a nice position. He’s all yours right now, and you like, kind of can do whatever the fuck, and he’ll just nod his little head and pucker his lips for a kiss.

His hips twitch and twitch as you rub back and forth on his cock, and fuck — the tip prods your hole again, just a little. Your hole flutters, because he’s just leaking, and his cock is so hot and throbbing against you. You give some small mercy, your hands caressing his face, thumbing over his eyes and eyebrows down to his scruffy cheeks, kissing him sweetly and chastely. He follows you, tugs you back down, and you allow it. Perfect moment to let his tip push in, right?

He gasps into the kiss but doesn’t — can’t stop kissing you. You think you feel him trying to mumble your name through his lips mashing against yours sloppily and desperately, you think you feel wetness around your mouth and a little dribble of drool as his tongue puppy-dog kisses you.

“Told you, you couldn’t handle it right now.”

“Huh?”

You just snicker. He’s out of it, and even just the tip has his balls drawing up, fucking ready to blow his load.

“Nothing, Romeyrome,” you kiss a speckled mark on his cheek near his nose. “Go ahead, get it over with,” you encourage.

“Get it — ffuck, fuck, over with? You’re so romantic, I’m buying you a Nicholas Sparks novel to compare notes with.”

He whines as you laugh, partly because of your laugh, because he made you laugh. You reach down to rest your warm palms on the throbbing base and oh fuck, he can’t take it. He jerks his hips, grabbing your free hand to kiss the inside of and mumble your name into. He playfully gnaws at it until his head falls back. His eyes still look up at you, even when you look away.

You run your hand down from the base of his cock, your hips still wiggling with just the tip in, and you cup his ballsack, rolling them with your thumb and squeezing them gently.

“Let me in, let me just cum inside, I can’t hold back anymore,” he pleads, breathless.

“No,” you grin, “you can’t take it, honey. Just the tip.”

But he’s a tricky boy, tricky — the minute he gasps, clearly cumming, he lifts his hips off the bed, holding your hips down, pushing all the way in, nice and deep. You decide, okay, that’s his choice, next is mine, right?

You ride him as he cums and long after, and fuck, he’s making almost pained noises. He’s crying, actually, haphazardly gripping your thighs.

“Please, please, can’t you just, fuck, you’re milking my load out of me, fuck you, you — you fuckin’—,” he can’t finish his sentence without an awful, heartfelt little whine, loud as can be, like a pitiful puppy. “Incubus,” he finally finds the word, his thighs twitching beneath yours, hips stuttering up.

“Cum for me, too, what — what do you, can’t you just tell me what to do,” he’s so desperate in his pathetic babbling that it’s sweet.

“Just enjoy it, Roro,” you soothe. He’s so sweet. You can’t resist planting little kisses across his face. He leans into them all.

“Can’t stop, Jesus, can’t fucking stop—,”

“Then don’t stop, get it all out.” You kiss away a few stray tears, and he’s already came once outside of you and once inside, but from how he grips your hips and tries slamming up into you from beneath, you’re pretty sure he came a third time.

There’s a pause. You stop only for a moment, and he’s practically wheezing trying to catch his breath. It’s been a while, you get it; cumming three times in a row, not having to hold back for some fucking fulfillment of a role or whatever, it exhausts you both.

“You gotta let me eat your incubus pussy now.”

“Nooo,” you say, the way one would scold a puppy. “You need to go to bed, honeybunch. That’s that. Doctor’s orders.”

“The doctor’s a quack, let me at it. You drained me dry with your cum-sucking vampire-pussy, so can’t you just let me…sate you?”

You kiss him on the lips.

“I’ll use my face washcloth to clean you up if you drop it.”

He shuts up real quick. Makes a motion of zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

I heart natural dialogue😍

okay so what if a kieran culkin character wore as many hand accessories like the bracelets but also rings as kieran and then fingered you rougly? what if?

girl ya smart let’s get into it

i’m gonna go with roman the love of my life light of my day fire of my loins because we see him wearing bracelets a couple times, especially when he’s in barbados and in the gym. and…im gonna go with post-s4. like, future rome and you. because i’m a softie and i like imagining him happy in the future. so SPOILERS for s4 of succession, beware.

You’ve come with Roman to a vacation home—a villa, really, in Rome. His dad gave it to him, it’s his now. That’s weird, right? Your dad dies and you get a villa in Italy, specifically for you, that’s weird to him. Maybe he’s just sensitive, you keep giving him those puppy-dog eyes like he could crumble at any minute, especially in the jet on the way over. You almost yank his arm off trying to stop him from carrying your luggage.

But now you’re settled in, it’s warm outside (maybe too warm) and you’ve gone to a market nearby to buy some meats and cheeses for snacks, and a peach wine despite having real (expensive) wine in the cellar. You’d tease him in a couple weeks of staying here, bully him for getting ‘fat’ all the while sucking his dick by the pool. But that’s later, in the future, and for now, you’re in the room he always stayed at when they vacationed here, ‘his room.’

“It’s very…red,” you’re shocked, not that you don’t like it, just surprised by how red it is. His room in Barbados was a teal and beige, all blue paired with the natural stone. Here, it’s a deep red, very fitting for Italy and the whole ‘Rome’ aesthetic, but weird, with a similar stone texture surrounding, the same as outside, almost stuccoed.

“Yep. Red. Very emo eye my father had, maybe he was trying to get me in with Gerard Way,” he teases his past self, and you can almost implicitly tell that Logan picked it out. You can’t imagine Logan redesigning a house without making it a part of some psychological training routine.

“I’d think you were a Frank Iero, personally,” you quip with a grin.

“Oh thank you, thanks. For that. I uh, I’ll try to ignore your emo mumbo jumbo and act like I’ve never heard those names before,” he says, trying to active ‘above’ the emo scene. He opens a little drawer in his dresser and like muscle memory finds a shitty little box against the front panel, the cheapest thing in this whole house you’re sure.

The top is lifted and placed onto the dresser with a familiar movement, a limp wrist and body twisting to face you as he rolls a single bracelet down his arm, past his wrist. He holds his arm up for you to see, the plastic bracelet covered with teal and dark blue beads with a few large notches of white stone.

“Nice. Never knew you liked accessories so much,” you comment, not sure if this is a joke, or?

“Didn’t really, I guess? Just kept ‘em. Mom hated it, Dad hated it. Look, Shiv,” he says, holding up a bracelet with orange, pink, and beige beads, with ‘S-H-I-V’ in white letter blocks, not quite centered. He drops it back down in the box and rummages around.

“Aww. Big bro was such a sweetie,” you say despite Roman being barely older than Shiv. You hold yourself back from asking invasive questions, like how old she was when she made him that, and how old she was when she stopped. Maybe she sent him bracelets in military school, maybe her friends had a crush on him—you doubt it, he was a little too lanky and annoying to be the typical rich girl’s pre-teen crush.

“Yeah yeah, sure, sure I was. Ooh, pretty,” he holds up a ring and gives you the box, using both hands to put the gold band on, a lapis lazuli in the center. It still fits his forefinger perfectly on his right hand.

You peek through the box like a treasure chest as you hold it in your hands. There’s so much of him in here you’ve heard about but will never have been there to see. It makes you wish you were born at the same time, same place, and spent every second together. It might’ve been worth him bullying you through your many awkward phases to see him in all his breakout teenage glory watching Fight Club and Tetsuo the Iron Man with ten or twenty bracelets down his arm.

“Want one?”

“Oh—uhhh, no, thank you,” you squeak out, lost in your thoughts, not sure how to politely respond.

“Uh-huh. I think I’m supposed to give you fuckin’…Tiffany and Cartier before I make you wear my sweaty rope cord bracelets,” he says before putting one on. I mean, he’s given you plenty of expensive jewelry before, he just kind of feels like he should give you more before you have to wear this junk, even for play. The rope cord bracelet he stretched over his hand is a dark green color, it looks good with the tan he has from Barbados. The strings that tighten it hand down against the beaded bracelet, and you don’t think about Roman in this way, in Italy, as a teen on summer break. You’re sure there’s a copy of Sex, Lies, and Videotape bound to be in this room.

“Oooh,” he sounds in awe of a three-bracelet band of dark green, light green, and white crystalline beads, rolling them down his arm. He holds up a pear-shaped ruby ring—which looks like a real ruby, which is shocking because why the fuck would that be in there? “Here, for you, m’lady.”

“Thank…you,” you say, not sure how to respond. Is he giving you this? Maybe just telling you to wear it? You put it on your middle finger, hesitating, almost putting it on the finger beside it, which could lead to a big insinuation that you’d prefer to avoid.

“You’re welcome, wow, how excited you sound,” he sarcastically quips, putting a stack of silver rings on his ring finger, one from Miansai, with a flat onyx at the top. The other looks sort of like a screw-fastener, like a dirty, used up attachment to some screw or bolt, with a hole big enough to fit around his ring finger. There’s another similar to it that he puts on his thumb, with what you think is black spray paint on it.

“You wanna look s’more in my little box of horrors?” he asks, rolling a couple thick red rubber bracelets, four or five down his arm, and a black leather cuff. He seems punk. He’s not, he’s a fucking born-and-raised billionaire who pissed the bed at fourteen, but he seems…like a guy, a regular guy from your high school or home town or something, someone who wears AC/DC shirts from Spencer’s.

“Uhn-uhn, I’m good,” you say, twisting off the ruby ring.

“No—what? Keep it on. You keep that, ‘s yours now, unless you hate it?” he seems confused and genuinely offended. You thought it was time to put it away but he’s giving it to you? You make a quick noise that sounds like an ‘oops’, like ‘oh fuck, I thought wrong.’

“You’re sure? I mean, is this—?”

“Real? Yeeesss, duh, would I put a fake vending machine ring on you? Jesus. C’mere, let’s bang on my childhood bed,” he jokes, urging you to sit down with him. He plops down and he’s weirdly solid, the bed bounces from the force of his weight suddenly falling almost limp on it, feet barely on the ground. His hand gently pats against the comforter.

“Didn’t you say your dad bought this after he divorced Caroline?” you ask incredulously, questioning his idea of ‘childhood’.

“Yeah, okay, ‘childhood’ is relative, Freud,” he rolls his eyes and grabs you by your waist, slamming you down into the bed face-first. “There we go, see? See what happens when you don’t listen? Ya get slammed. Face first into my dusty old mattress.”

“Mmfhm,” you mumble, tucking your forearms under your chest.

“Is it nice down there?” he asks with a half-grin, still sitting up, twisted around to peer over his shoulder at you still lying face-down.

“Mmyup,” you reply, raising your head up to look up at him.

“Looks comfy. Watch out, comin’ in hot,” he says, plopping on top of you as you squeal. His arms wrap around you, laying himself on you like dead weight and squeezing you tight.

“Roman! Rome, you’re like, a thousand pounds, oh my god—,” you say, a little breathless from beneath him.

“I can’t believe you’re calling me fat when you’re the one who fed me a metric ton of brie,” he mumbles into your hair, sniffing it deeply. You smell good. He lays there for a few moments until you speak up.

“Speaking of, we gotta fix dinner, fatty, now get up,” you say, kicking your legs at the back of his thighs, occasionally hitting his ass. He could stay here forever.

“Fuck you? Come on, lemme jump your bones and hump you right here. Just the tip,” he giggles and scoots back, practically crawling off the bed and reaching his hand down to help you up. “Fiocchetti again?”

“Penne instead?” you barter. He makes a little ‘mm’ noise in agreement.

Heading downstairs, fixing some simple penne with a tomato, basil, and garlic sauce, it’s all pretty simple with Roman. Without a chef doing everything for you like in the penthouse back in New York, it’s a lot more—normal, relaxed. Almost domestic. The pear-shaped ruby on your middle finger seems, in quick glances, like it belongs on your ring finger. It seems only natural, almost like you’re living in a sitcom as the ‘cringe married couple next door’ stereotype. Everything has been weirdly easy after the death of his father, almost like he’s happier—which oversimplifies so much, but he seems so open now. He’s even began rewriting some of his old screenplays. He dubs you his ‘editor.’

You ate in the kitchen together, him sitting on the countertop and you standing between his legs. You both finished the pasta off together, nice and full and bloated, putting the dishes in the sink before heading upstairs to sleep in his room, at his request.

You’re in a tank and shorts when he comes up behind you, leaning against you with a pitiful whine, arms wrapped around you. He nuzzles into the nape of your neck, bites your back gently with a growl. “C’mere, wifey-poo,” he says, walking backwards, guiding you both with the occasional misstep and stagger.

“Heeeere we go,” he says, pulling you back on the bed, your back landing on his front. “Mm. You comfy?” he asks, and it’s comical, because he wants to know the minute the two of you fucking land if you’re already cozy. He sure is. He smells toothpaste and your skincare. You used the same toothpaste but he still wants to know if you taste the same.

“Yeah, sure, okay now, release me,” you say, trying to crawl out of his clinging.

“No! Nooo, no-no-no, bad girl, stay down with me,” he demands, one leg wrapping around you, then the other. His face nuzzles into the side of your neck and his hand lays flat against your lower navel. You groan but stay still, freezing up when his right hand slips between the band of your shorts and where your tank top hangs over it. He’s still wearing the two rings on his ring finger, one on his pointer, and one on his thumb, all of his bracelets still on his arm.

“You ‘kay if we…?” he asks. He so rarely asks. It’s weird here, it’s like he’s so different but still obviously your Roman. You can’t help but sputter out a laugh, because Roman’s already awkward enough without asking-but-not-asking for sex. “Fuck you, I’m taking that as a ‘yes.’”

He unentangles his legs from around you and moves them to between your thighs, keeping them open. “You gonna shut the fuck up now?” he asks, but he’s just not intimidating when you’re mid-laugh, so you just respond, “Oh my god, yeah, sure Rome, I’m so scared. Shaking in my boots, really.”

“You should be,” he says, suddenly serious but still not unfunny. His jaw clenches and his eyes are dark. His hand moves your face to his, your cheek smushing under his forceful touch in a way he thinks is so cute (but certainly can’t say now). It looks like he’s about to kiss you—you’re even ready for him to, lips halfway puckered when you hear a noise that can’t be what you think it is, and the wet feeling splattered on your face registers a moment after it happens.

“What the fuck,” you say, eyes wide and confused, a little pissed.

“Told you. Be fucking scared, I’m serious,” he says a moment before he licks his own spit, both hands on your head keeping you from moving away as his tongue trails the top of your nose, under your eye, the apple of your cheek, a little lick to your eyelid when your eyes flutter shut, and your lips. It turns into a kiss, slowly, his tongue forcing its way in your mouth, one hand encouraging your jaw to stay down, tugging your mouth open. Your face is covered in his spit by the time he’s done.

“Here. Help me out a little,” he shoves his fingers in your mouth, his pointed and middle, down to the base where you feel his gold ring on his pointer. “Gooood, that’s good. What a beauty. You make it so fuckin’ easy.”

You gurgle around them as they trigger your gag reflex. “Shhh-sh-sh-sh,” he shushes you, feeling around your mouth for a little longer before slipping them out.

His wet fingers leave snail trails grabbing the inside of your thigh from behind. He knows you. He knows you don’t wear panties under these shorts. He knows you’ll jolt a little and get all squirmy if he doesn’t keep you against him, your back to his chest, your ass to his dick. Roman knows you so well, he knows the color of your childhood bedroom, he knows where you keep the hair ties on your arm when you take them off, he knows your weak spots and how to make your brain get fuzzy.

“Shut the fuck up, I got you,” he mumbles into your hair, huffing the smell of your shampoo and conditioner, trying to get every note of you. His fingers slip beneath the fabric of your sleep shorts, and you’re not usually one for keeping them on—too uncomfortable usually—but they’re nice and soft and loose. Not gonna inhibit his ability to feel around and fuck around, so no reason to do more work than necessary, right?

Roman’s pointer and middle fingers play with your clit, not roughly and not with much of an intention to get you off, just playing, for his own enjoyment. You twitch and whine, but he only presses a couple kisses to your head through your hair and your neck. You feel his bracelets against your lower navel leading down to your cunt.

“Give it, come on. Give it to me,” he demands brattishly, thumb rubbing your swollen clit then trailing down to massage your labia. You open up, and he’s right after all, you do make it easy for him. He slips his pointer in your pussy and rubs your clit sweetly, nice and hard so that your hips can twitch as his legs prevent you from grinding up into his touch. You feel the gold ring at the base of his index, and after a few moments he slips in his middle finger. He can’t help but comment on it with a shocked, giggly little noise, “Tight fit, huh? Yeaaah, that’s alright. Just little ole me stretching you out. Never fear, Romey’s here.”

You moan when he wiggles his fingers against that one spot, and fuck, his fingers are thick, and what he lacks in experience (and dexterity) he makes up for in excitement. It’s almost sadistic, his legs wrapped around you and keeping you down from behind, his left hand popping your tits out of your tank top and grabbing them. But it’s reverent all the same, how he never grabs too hard, how he massages your tits from base to the tip of your nipple instead of pinching your nips, how his free hand grabs yours and kisses the finger where the ruby ring is adorned.

“R-Roman,” you breathe. “Fuck me, fuck, please.”

“Uhn-uh, don’t wanna. Saw you looking at my hands earlier, so you’re gonna give ‘em a nice fuck-and-suck,” he says, grinding his dick against your lower back in time with his fingers, slowly sliding in a third and hearing you wince. “Oh, you’re fine. They’ll fit.”

It’s disgusting, the wet noises are fucking embarrassingly loud. It all feels like a book, the cliche of getting fingered in one of his childhood bedrooms. Three fingers deep and the two silver rings at the base of his ring finger against your hole, holding you down against him and keeping you still, it’s straight out of a porno.

“Shit, are you — are you, fucking—?” he’s shocked when your pussy gushes with that telltale flutter. “You’re cumming on my hand like a bitch in heat from a whole lotta nothing. Didn’t even have to try.”

You whine, laying your head back on his shoulder, nose nudging at his ear, breath huffing at his neck. His dick is twitchy and he can’t resist humping it into your ass through the back of your shorts, he can’t help but shudder visibly, breath audibly stuttering against the crook of your neck. The two of you are so intertwined, your head leaned back with him leaned over to bury his face in the crook of your neck where it meets your shoulder. It’s intimate, a weird comfort, like how he always stares at your tits with that weird look, and how he takes deep breaths every time you hug him.

“I can’t take it, I can’t Rome, ‘s—,”

“Yeah, but you can though. You can, actually, you just squeeze reeeeal tight and milk my fuckin’ fingers like a bitch. You’re actually a pro, if I remember correctly,” he quips, and it would often be followed by a sadistic giggle, but his dick has drained all the blood in his fucking brain and he’s too close to worry about appearances right now.

And you do take it. You squeeze his fingers and he fucks you through it, three thick fingers fucking you through it, one thumb against your vulva and the heel of his palm moved to slap and grind against your clit. His other thumb brushes against the back of your hand, held in his free hand. You would be a little embarrassed of how noisy you are if not for how brain dead you are from how good it feels. You don’t even hear him moaning behind you, it hardly registers that he’s grinding his dick against your ass and lower back, hips stuttering.

When it’s all over, it seems a little ridiculous. His fingers kept inside, your tits still out, him breathing hard on your neck — the fact you’re in a villa that he now owns, in Italy, the fact that his dad died and he just kinda whisked you away to process at his own pace, away from a cold, dark, and worn Manhattan that his past still seems to haunt. You sputter out a little giggle. This isn’t really something you anticipate in your five year plan.

“What? I make you cum your brains out and you still think it’s funny to bully me?” he snarks, burying his face in your hair from behind, nuzzling into the side of your neck like a puppy ready to nap.

“No, just — what the fuck is this. Like, I’m in Italy, with you, and…it’s just different. A lot’s changed since I met you.” It’s true. A lot of shit has become a whole lot better, and a few things have become a whole lot worse at times. You have new stressors, new insecurities, new challenges; but you have Roman. Someone who takes you to Italy and makes jokes about knocking you up about of wedlock and then forcing you to elope with him. And has the chef make you your favorite breakfasts, better than anyone ever could. Sometimes he goes to markets with you and picks around at stuff, or goes to thrift shops and makes gross jokes about how everything is contaminated, inappropriate jokes about poverty, showing his pretentious socioeconomic class — but he still goes. He brushes your hair and has nicely trimmed (or rather, bitten) nails. He knows your favorite flowers and has them imported when they’re out of season. Everything is pretty weirdly domestic.

“Mmh,” he makes a little noise, wiggling his fingers in your cunt to feel you squeeze in oversensitivity. “Yeah. You’re,” he pauses, makes you think he’s gonna say something profound. His response doesn’t have to be said, it’s pretty fucking obvious from his everything that he loves you more than life itself. Change is whatever, nice, but his life technically only started when you came into it, and is on pause when you aren’t watching him. It’s horrible and codependent, but yeah, so is he. “Gonna drip on the bed. God, you hear that? Creamy, creamy girl. You creamed on my fingers so hard it got your fuckin’…neurons firing shit up in there, thinking these philosophical thoughts.”

He takes his fingers out, wiggling them around more as he extracts them, and your cunt squelches. His fingers are soaked, a thick ring of cream around the base before his rings. He turns your head to the side with his left hand and cranes his to face you, keeping eye contact as he licks his fingers one by one. It isn’t sexual. It’s more of an ‘I own you, your pussy is so fucking owned’ move, in his own playful manner, that little glint in his eye as he cleans them, savoring the taste. He kinda regrets not eating you out.

“Gonna be good?” he asks.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I want a kiss but I don’t kiss bad girls. Kiss-kiss?” he puckers his lips. You peck them with a quick ‘mwwwwah’. “Good,” he lightly smacks his left hand against your face, his right hand rubbing against the front of it to gross you out, the spit-slick fingers making you gasp in shock and mock offense, making him giggle in return.

He gets up out of bed with a groan of, “Hoooooly shit, ow.”

“You’re old as fuck, Jesus,” you giggle at him before noticing the large stain on the front of his pants. “Holy shit, did you—?”

“No. No, I pissed myself, the fuck do I look like, a bed-wetter?” he defensively quips, his load visibly staining the front of his pants.

“Yes,” you reply quickly. I mean, he did wet the bed for like, a long time, and then started wetting the bed again as a trauma response as an early teen, not to mention the adult ‘accidents’ he fails to keep hidden.

“Okay, fuck you, say ‘thank you, Daddy’ or something, I just made you cum,” he retorts, walking to the dresser to change, removing his bracelets and rings with heavy clinks and thuds onto the top of the dresser.

“Maybe you should thank me for making you cum,” you surrebut, the sharp look he gives you in return being nothing but play, like two puppies tugging on each other’s ears. “Thaaaaank you, Daddy,” you mock, half-genuine but you’d never let it show.

“You’re welcome, shithead,” he complains, changing into some soft briefs and a tee that he stole from you years ago, climbing into bed with you. Tonight, he chooses to do the ol’ reliable, sleeping facing you, noses nuzzling and breaths intermingling until one of you nudges downwards and sleeps on the other’s chest, an unspoken routine.

“Thanks. By the way,” he mumbles, not even fully said. “Even though you didn’t even try. Just born with a really nice pussy and perfected your moans at whatever pornstar school you attended. You lucked up, you’re the load-blow queen. Princess,” he corrects himself, thinking the title ‘princess’ seemed a better fit.

“You’re welcome, prince Romulus,” you let out one more tease, letting him nuzzle your hair as he has been all night, kissing the top of your head.

i need a older man to let me sit on his lap and give him sweet kisses on his cheek.

Smthn about babydoll is just so😍

Advent Calendar Day Three - Ice Skating

Clay Roach x Reader

a/n: ice skating with clay would actually fix me to be honest, this is all I want in life. I CAN FIX HIM, OKAY?!

yeah, I'm also mocking his sexy Boston accent, so what?

"Babydoll, this is fuckin' dumb. I'm gonna fall flat on my ass." Clay huffed, whining as he tied the laces up on your ice skates.

You rolled your eyes playfully, crossing your arms over your chest as you giggled at Clay's whining. You'd all but practically begged Clay to take you ice skating at the new rink Boston had put up in town. On the one condition that he wouldn't complain. Which, regardless, you knew he would.

"C'mon! Stop being a Scrooge and get your skates on, Mister pahk the cahr." you snickered, shoving Clay's ice skates to his chest.

Clay scoffed, snorting a laugh as he tugged on his own skates with a grumble, huffing under his breath.

"Babydoll! Why do you hate me?" Clay whined, holding your hands tight as he stumbled on the ice like a baby deer learning to walk.

"Stop being such a baby, you're doing fine!" you encouraged sweetly, gripping Clay's hands tight as you twirled him around the ice. You stifled your laugh at the panicked look on his face.

"I'm a grown ass man, babydoll, this is embarrassing!" Clay grumbled, as soon as the words left his mouth he went tumbling onto his ass on the ice with a groan.

You covered your mouth with your hand, holding back the fit of giggles at the sight of Clay pouting before helping him up.

"See, you're a natural!"

"Shut the fuck up, babydoll."

Hiiii Olivia, I absolutely adore everything you write I'm literally obsessed.

Can I request no.5 from the prompt list pretty please, but I was thinking that maybe the reader worships franks body ya know, I little twist, only if you want don't feel pressured.

Ok love you, bye!!!

5.) body worship

hii coco my love, thank you so much :')) i adore YOU and im literally obsessed with YOU. i had so much fun writing this one so i hope you enjoy :3

18+ MDNI !!

My Masterlist!

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Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: filth, pure filth, SMUT OBVIOUSLYYY, oral (m!receiving), masturbation, praise, dirty talk, face fucking, mentions of pillow humping, submissive frankie if you squint

Wordcount: 1.3k

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✦ heart eyes

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful doll.” Frank moans into your mouth, exploring your body with his hands, tracing every curve with his fingers.

“All you Frankie, that’s all you.” you whisper, pulling away from his lips and attaching yours to his neck, tasting his soft skin and nibbling on it.

“Think ya fuckin’ blind baby, I’m nothin’ compared to ya.” he chuckles, squeezing your waist and pulling you closer to his crotch, both stood at the edge of your bed.

“That’s where you’re wrong Frank.” you say, pulling yourself away from his neck, pushing him down to sit on the bed, leaving you standing, towering over him. He shoots you a shocked look with a raised eyebrow, unsure of where you were going with this. You fall to your knees, grabbing the hem of his shirt, pulling it up as he helps you remove the garment. Running your hands down his chiseled torso, you hum appreciatively. 

“Fuck, you can’t sit there and call me blind when you look like this baby.” your hands wrap around his waist, gripping him harshly. You don’t peel your eyes away from his body for a second, wanting to take in every crevice of his muscles, all the scars, memorizing them forever. “It’s like you’ve been fucking hand-carved by the Gods themselves.”

He chuckles at the comparison, Frank can’t help but look away as the blush creeps up from his neck, painting his face beet red. He isn’t used to this love, these compliments. He believes with every ounce of himself he doesn’t deserve any of this, but despite all these thoughts of self-hatred, you shine through. 

“Shh sweetheart, y’dunno what ya sayin’, promise ya you’ve got the wrong guy.” he mumbles, reaching down to pull you back up to him to straddle him, but you stay firmly planted on the ground, shooting him a daring look as if to say “I’m not fucking done yet.”

He raises his hands in defeat, allowing you to unbuckle his belt and pull the dark blue jeans off of his legs. The moan you make just at the sight of his aching cock straining in his boxers makes his member twitch. 

“Don’t get me fucking started on these legs, these thighs Frankie. How on earth did I get so lucky?” your heart eyes are practically bulging from your head as you go to palm his bulge through his underwear, smearing his already leaking precum around the fabric.

“I ask m’self the same question every damn day, pretty girl.” he groans, running his hands through your hair, allowing you to make him feel good for you. His head throws back into the plush of your comforter as you run your fingers up his thick thighs, playing with the prominent vein on his cock through the fabric.

“You dunno what you do to me Frank, I get so turned on just thinking about you.” you whimper, pumping his length through his boxers. “I hump my pillow every night you’re out.. fuck picturing it’s your thigh.” you place your mouth over his underwear, tentatively licking stripes up his clothed bulge. Frank starts bucking his hips into your touch, dying to feel more of you. “Just being in your presence makes me so wet I can’t think straight, I have to stop myself from just taking you right there and then..”

At this point you can’t help trailing your hand down your stomach to your soaked panties, pushing them to the side as you delve your fingers inside your drenched hole, the view of your perfect boyfriend turning you to desperation. Taking your mouth off of his cock, you pull his boxers down to expose his length. It instantly slaps against his stomach, the erection he has is so hard it almost looks painful. You purr and drool at the sight, Frank so bare in front of you, so exposed just for you.

“All mine Frankie, all fucking mine.”

“Only yours doll, fuck I’m all yours.” he whimpers, the sound like music to your ears. “Please baby, I need ya so fuckin’ bad, need your mouth..”

You can’t wait another second without tasting him, so that’s what you do, accepting his begs for you. The power you have over him is enthralling, something you’re gonna want to explore later on with him. Placing your lips around his dark red tip, swirling the sensitive head around your mouth with your tongue, you begin bobbing your head up and down his cock, taking as much of him in as possible while fondling his heavy balls. 

Frank knows he won’t be able to last much longer like this, but he uses every ounce of self control to withhold himself from letting go, needing you like this for as long as humanly possible. Your eyes don’t leave his while you pleasure him and yourself, he smirks at your gaze.

“Enjoyin’ yourself down there sweet girl?” he coos mischievously between moans.

“You know damn well I am Frank, any excuse to be in between your legs.” you wink, smiling at him matching his energy as you resume the task at hand.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl.. fuck just like that don’t you fucking stop… shit” he growls, taking both of his hands and grabbing your head as he starts fucking himself into your mouth, his desire fully consuming him like a man possessed. The feeling of him taking the control back, using your mouth to get off, sends a fresh wave of arousal to your already longing core. His tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly, taunting your gag reflex but you take it on the chin, eyes welling with tears and his cock flooding with your saliva. 

The sounds erupting from the action are pure sin, the squelch from each thrust, the wet noises from your pussy as you play with yourself. You whine around his cock as he spills his sticky, hot seed directly down your esophagus, a primal groan erupting from his throat as he emptied himself inside of you makes your clit throb. 

You finally take your mouth off of his spent member, the overstimulation as you lift yourself makes his whole body flinch. You can’t help but smirk, Frank sprawled out beneath you heavily breathing, balls and cock twitching as his member softens before your eyes. 

“I meant everything, y'know Frankie? I truly do think you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever had the privilege to call mine.” you pant, lips puffy and red as you smile up at him.

“I know ya did doll, meant it when I said I dunno what I did to deserve ya too,” he offers you the same smile back, eyes staring through you with lust blown pupils. “So, ya hump ya pillow thinkin’ of me, huh?”

You roll your eyes, giggling at the realisation you admitted to him your dirty little secret while you were so cockdrunk. 

“I do baby, while wearing nothing but your shirt too.” you taunt, climbing up to your feet. He groans at your confession, eyes rolling to the back of his head imagining you do this. You go to walk to the bathroom to clean yourself off, but he halts your attempts by grabbing your wrist and pulling you down to his eye level. He places his hand to your face, angling you to meet his gaze.

“Show me.”

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a/n: this.. ngh.. need this. need him. i have no other words.

my inbox is open!

LOVERS WARMTH

bård “ faust ” eithun x reader

- general headcanons for cuddling / sleeping with bård!

very random and quite short little headcanons about cuddling with bård! might make a similar work for pelle too and here is the list of cuddle positions i used just in case some of you do not know the ones that i mention in this work ^_^

- view my metal masterlists here and here

reading music recommendations: stop the stars by tiny deaths - ecstasy by crooked still

- bård found out many different and new things about himself after getting with you, his very first serious partner at all, you helped him realise so much about himself and never failed to help him with the things going on inside of his head too

✩ but one thing that bård really came to realise after becoming your boyfriend and doing different kinds of couple things together? well, he realised that he really loves cuddling… like, a whole lot…

- the kind of strange thing is that cuddling never seemed all that appealing to bård before you came along and swept him off his feet! whenever he saw a destined to be slaughtered couple cuddling up in an isolated woodland cabin in one of his horror movies, he just never got the appeal

✩ bård thought that cuddling seemed… useless and not very enjoyable at all! it seemed too overbearing and just too soft for him, he hated the idea of being so close to someone like that because what about the body heat? what about sweat? what about the blankets getting tangled in between bodies? it all just seemed so unappealing to him, or at least that is what he made himself believe anyways…

- truth be told, bård was very likely just kind of jealous in a way! every time he saw a couple cuddling like that, he felt his own heart yearn for someone to love him like that and for someone to love like that, he yearned to feel the warmth of a lovers arms around him during the colder nights in his lonely apartment but he never thought anyone would like to do that with him which is why he decided to make himself dislike the thought of cuddling so much, it is why he made his brain think about how terrible it would actually be to cuddle someone

✩ but alas, true feelings cannot stay buried underneath lies for the rest of time and when bård got with you? his once hidden love for the idea of being so close to someone was surprisingly quick to reveal itself to you

- well, i say it was surprising but really? it is not quite that! at least, it should not have been too surprising because of how comfortable you make bård feel, being in your presence? it makes him feel like he can be his true self no matter what, even more so when you do not treat him any differently after he tells you about some of the things happening in his mind… bård is so new to relationships and in a way, this makes him eager! you make him feel so safe and at home, all of the things he keeps hidden from everything else come out to be on show around you with little to no fear of judgement at all…

✩ bård kind of clings onto you a whole lot, you are his standing rock in the depths of an unforgiving ocean and you are his home! it is definitely kind of bad but after getting with you? a lot of his mental health and his happiness relies on you, you are his true happiness and you are what drives him to be better in life

- his absolute favourite cuddling positions with you would be simple spooning and the sweetheart

✩ so long as the two of you are as close as you can be together? he loves it more than anything else in the world, being so close to you is all he ever wants and feeling you held in his arms is all he ever craves because without you? the space of his bed feels freezing cold and his arms just feel so empty

- when he once made himself think that being so close to someone else would feel horrible and overbearing? he now accepts the truth that he yearned to feel it for himself and he knows now that in actuality? he loves being the closest he can be to you as the two of you cuddle up together in your shared bed! he loves being able to press lingering yet innocent kisses to your head and the side of your neck whilst holding you in his arms

✩ when sleeping together in the spooning cuddle position, bårds arms are always tight around your body but never tight enough to hurt you or feel restricting to you at all! his arms just hold you secure and safe with your back pressed against his chest and some stray strands of his long brown hair tickling the side of your face and the nape of your neck due to his head being settled down against your own

- though be warned that often times, falling asleep in the spooning cuddle position with bård will almost always end up in some slow morning sex when the two of you awake and both of you take note of his hard morning wood as it presses up against your butt… and he always just thinks that you look so gorgeous when you first wake up…

✩ when sleeping together in the sweetheart cuddle position, bårds arms are less tight around you as one of his arms just lays draped over your shoulders as your legs are tangled together beneath the thick blankets whilst your head is resting atop his warm chest and his face is nestled in your hair because no matter your hair length nor your hair type, bård just loves laying his face against it and breathing in the scent of whatever hair products linger

- if you ever chuckle and ask him just what he is doing due to feeling and hearing him sniff your hair as your head lays upon his chest? you will be able to hear his heartbeat quicken just beneath your ear and you will feel his breathing hitch in his throat as his eyes shoot open and stare at the bedroom wall in the darkness of the night before he speaks up in a quiet mumble

“ nothing… i was just… smelling your hair, it… smells very nice, you know? sorry ” ( bård says it all so fast and so low that you barely even hear what he says but nevertheless you just look up at him with a gentle smile before leaning your head up towards his to press a deep kiss against his lips whilst stroking his long leg with your foot beneath the blankets, mumbling into his mouth about how you think it is sweet and he has nothing to be sorry for, smiling against his pouted lips when you feel his once tense state loosen under your reassurance and show of affection )

✩ wether you are a guy or a girl or even just something in between, when you and bård are both a little bit intoxicated and have just stumbled home to your shared apartment before damn near ripping your now very uncomfortable clothes off and climbing into bed wearing nothing but underwear? drunk bård is a little bit more confident bård and his hands are bound to go wandering just a little bit when you press your almost naked body up against his own for warmth and love

- his calloused hands will drift down to your butt as he squeezes the available fat there before lowering his palm and doing the very same to your thighs or he will bring just one hand to grope and fondle one of your nude breasts as the other ventures downwards towards your butt to show some special attention there too, he always has such a shy yet confident and sly little smile on his drunken face when you look up at him with an intoxicated giggle from his touchy affection that only causes his own somehow slurred laughter to bubble up in his chest

✩ and whilst you and bård do often have some fun drunk sex from time to time? most of the time, these wandering hands and soft squeezes will not lead to anything super nsfw at all because most of the time, drunk bård is sleepy bård and seeing his soft face be so at peace in sleep as he drools upon your naked chest whilst his long hair is strewn across his cheek and his hand is still resting upon your butt? well, it just never fails to make you fall into your own peaceful sleep right after he passes out on your chest

- whilst it is definitely not his favourite cuddling position at all, sometimes when the two of you get back home to your shared apartment after an emperor rehearsal that you attended with him or even after a casual day spent with some friends at helvete, the two of you will walk through the front door hand in hand before just collapsing down together on the soft couch that sits in the small living room before getting into a comfortable take a lap position with his arms wrapping around your body whilst you burrow your head against his chest and lay your legs across his lap as one of his hand comes down to stroke the side of your leg

✩ the take a lap cuddling position might not be a huge favourite for bård because often times when the two of you fall asleep on the couch in the position? both of you often wake up with a bit of an ache in your necks and your backs due to the slight slouching which he is never a big fan of but he will never deny how much he likes it in the moment, so long as the two of you make sure to not fall asleep in the position

- take a lap is often times the cuddling position that the two of you always end up being in when resting in his little makeshift bed in helvete! he really likes the fact that it lets him watch his horror movie on the small tv whilst having you comfortable in his arms at the same time whilst one of his arms is wrapped around your back as his hand strokes along your spine in a soft motion and the other is hanging over your legs with a cold can of coca cola held in his hand, the two of you are far less likely to ever fall asleep in this position when in helvete due to the blaring black metal music in your ears and customers coming in and out of the store which means he gets to enjoy the position with you without the ache in his back and neck coming just after

✩ if anyone, like øystein, ever peeks over at the two of you cuddling like this in his little resting area in helvete and jokingly coos over the two of you for being so cute? bård will blush and is very thankful that his long hair is covering the sides of his face from their view but he has little to no problem shaking his head and just lifting his arm up from your its position over your legs so that he can flip them the bird whilst you chuckle and nestle further against him before his his head comes down to rest his cheek atop your head

- now, i have been talking a lot about bård cuddling you but you know… sometimes he likes to be cuddled too, not that you do not always cuddle back into him when he cuddles you but sometimes he wants to be the one being held, sometimes he wants to be the little spoon even if he will never say those words out loud and will always divert from saying those two words when he asks you to big spoon him instead of the other way around…

“ can you… cuddle me this time? like i do you? just… hold me, the same way i do, please ” ( bård might be able to admit that he wants to be cuddled by you but calling himself the little spoon? saying that he wants to be the little spoon? it will never come out of his mouth and he will find a way around using those two words because for some reason, they just make him feel much more embarrassed to ask and even then, he will always kind of avert his eyes when asking you to cuddle him as if fearing judgement or refusal )

✩ the feelings that rush through bård when you cuddle him and hold him safe in your arms are all so beyond unfamiliar and new to him, they are so unfamiliar and new but in the best way possible! being held in your arms fill him with a feeling of content and warmth that he begins to crave more and more as time goes on

- when being the little spoon for a change, bård loves feeling your arms wrap around his frame from behind as your legs tangle together beneath the blankets, he always feels his own breathing become so much more relaxed and he feels his mind turning into a tired mush the second you press a soft kiss to the side of his head and use your fingers to slip underneath the cotton of his plain black shirt that he wears to bed just to draw gentle shapes on the pale skin his waist, he absolutely loves that he gets to fall asleep to the gentle and rhythmic sound of your heartbeat when being the little spoon in your arms too, hearing your heart beat next to his ear and knowing that it is full of love for him just as his is for you makes his stomach flutter

✩ bård loves it when you talk him to sleep too! he is never bored by what you are talking about or anything even remotely like that but the sound of your quiet and tired voice speaking so close and so low right in his ear as his back is pressed against your chest never fails to make him fall into the welcoming arms of deep sleep! your voice is just so quiet and soft and his brain connects the sound of your voice to warmth and happiness which is why it often lulls him to sleep in your arms

- but when bård wakes up in the morning after falling asleep in the little spoon cuddling position with you holding him tight from behind? he almost always finds himself to have turned around in your arms sometime in his sleep during the night as his head now rests against your chest and your fingers now rest in the long brown strands of his messy bed hair!

✩ and speaking of his hair, stroking and brushing through his long hair whilst cuddling him in the little spoon position is sure to make him pass out in your arms within mere seconds

- your hands petting his head and your soft fingers running through his hair before massaging and gently scratching his scalp almost makes him purr like a kitten, it feels so good for him and knocks him out so well, scratching and massaging at his scalp is kind of like finding and pressing his off button

✩ wether he is the little spoon or the big spoon, bård loves to hold your hand in his own as he falls asleep and even during sleep too

- just before he falls into a deep sleep with you, one of his hands will drift away from wherever they once were to take ahold of yours as tangles your fingers together and connects your warm palms, his fingers running along your knuckles before giving three last gentle squeezes to your hand to symbolise a silent “ i love you ” before the two of you both fall into a shared slumber

✩ during cold norwegian winters? the two of you act as each others thermal heaters in bed, you cuddle up even more than ever before underneath every single blanket that you could find in your shared apartment and his arms never leave their place from being wrapped around you to supply you with body heat

- bård wonders how he ever even survived the winters before you! because when he steps out of bed from his spot beside you in the morning? he immediately just wants to dive back under the thick blankets and curl himself into you and feel your warmth, when he goes to rehearse with emperor whilst you stay home due to the immense cold? all he ever wants to do is get back home and climb into bed with you! he was never too bothered by winter and the cold that always came with it before you but your warmth is like nothing he has ever felt before and after experiencing it? he feels that he can never live without it again, winter feels so much worse than ever before and all he ever wants is to hold your warm body against his own as the two of you sleep through the winter like two bears hibernating through it all! when you leave the bed in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or grab a drink of water? bård always wakes up to the new lack of heat beside him and waits for you to return to bed with an almost grumpy expression on his tired face, like an upset cat missing his warm human

✩ bård tends to snore a whole lot when he sleeps

- he never once snored before he started dating you and cuddling with you in his sleep! but cuddling you and sleeping with you beside him in your shared bed and in his pale arms? it always makes him fall into such a deeper and a much more peaceful sleep than he ever has before, which is where the newfound snoring in his sleep comes from…

✩ never did he know the definition of a good nights rest before you entered his life and changed it for the better! his sleeps before getting with you were always in a very broken schedule and he never felt well rested when he awoke much earlier than he should have, his bedsheets were always a mess when he awoke due to how much tossing and turning he would do in his restless nights

- but when you came into his life and the two of you began dating? well, now he might just understand why some people say that sleep is the best part of life! sleeping with you is so different to sleeping alone, just your mere presence beside him beneath the warm covers makes him feel more at ease and being able to wrap his arm around your waist from behind whilst his button nose gets to rest in your hair as the lingering scent of your shampoo fills his senses always makes him feel so secure

✩ but do not worry at all! his frequent snoring? it is not overly loud nor is it ever annoying in the slightest, it is so strange but his snores are somehow so cute and quiet…

- if anything, waking up in the morning to the feeling of his hot breath fanning against the skin on the back of your neck as gentle snores leave his mouth only ever makes you smile and cuddle further back into him whilst his face buries itself deeper into the crook of you neck and his arm tightens around your waist

✩ it is probably best that you do not mention his snoring to him because of his lingering insecurities

- but if you do mention his snoring in a very soft and beyond gentle way to him? he will not get too insecure about it due to how sweet you were when bringing it up to him but he will probably be very embarrassed and shy about it, the blush that covers his face when you tell him how cute his snoring is? it is almost the same pigment as a bright red rose as he shakes his head with a tiny little smile on his heated face and his long brown hair coming to drape over his cheeks in an attempt to hide the obvious blush

✩ aside from snoring, i can definitely see bård mumbling in his sleep sometimes too

- it is nowhere near as common as his snoring but sometimes, you have woken up in the spooning potion to the sound of him mumbling ever so quietly right beside your ear and tilted your head back to look at him with a questioning look in your tired and heavy lidded eyes before you realise that he is sleep talking…

✩ his sleep talking is almost always just incoherent mumbles as his norwegian accent is even thicker than usual and sometimes he even sleep talks in his native tongue too! but there has been a couple times where you have understood a few little things that he said and they never ever fail to make your heart swell up with love inside of your chest as you listen to him before falling back into your own sleep

- the few sentences you have ever made out from his sleep talking have been little things like “ love you so much… ” “ wanna marry you soon ” “ so beautiful ” and “ dont deserve you… ”

✩ there was once when you heard him mumble out a quiet “ i do… forever… ” and you had to resist waking him from his sleep to pepper him in loving kisses as you realised he must have been dreaming about marrying you, he must have been seeing everything happening at the alter so clear in his land of sleep…

- sometimes, when he awakes in the morning, as the two of you lay there still held in each others arms as the golden morning sun begins to peak through his black curtains? you will ask him what he dreamt about, if anything at all, and he will develop such a deep red blush on his pale face before his arms pulls you against him tighter as he leans down to bury his blushing face into your hair whilst his mind drifts back and remembers the images that were shown to him in his dream, images of the two of you getting married in what seemed like a not so far away future, images of the two of you buying a house together, images of the two of you making love on the couch of your new house in front of a crackling fire

✩ he can never stop himself from telling you a little about his dreams, not when your fingers are drawing soft and comforting patterns on the pale skin of his naked chest and not when you tilt your head up to press a loving kiss against his heated cheek that he attempted to cover with some of the long brown strands of his hair! so he will tell you about his dreams, he will describe what you were wearing and how beautiful you looked, he will describe what the weather was like and how all he seemed to be able to do was gaze at you during the whole dream, he will tell you it all with a dreamy tone in his voice whilst his arms hold onto you…

- his face is always so covered in pure bliss as he tells you about his dreams and if you looked close enough at his chocolate brown eyes? you would be able to the yearning and want in his eyes, you would be able to see that he sees those perfect dreams with you as his true future with you and he awaits it with such eagerness in his heart <3

Love men who get horny from mundane things. He needs to go through a man’s equivalent of ovulation when he sees you folding laundry. He has to feel like he needs to be sedated because you were humming while making coffee. He should feel like he’s in heat simply because you giggled at something in your phone. It would be borderline offensive if your simple existence did not send him into the world’s most frenzy of All Time actually

Basil Stitt - The Free Use Chronicles - Random Horny Thots

NSFW - thanks @guruan-isnt-here for your input regarding Basil’s um…bathroom release.

You’re sitting on the couch when you hear a familiar whimper in the bathroom. Slowly, you walk toward the sound, steps muffled by your socks. Skin against skin mixed with heavy - and deliciously pathetic - breathing.

Basil is jerking off.

You should knock…but you decide against it. When you open the door, you’re graced with the beautiful look of surprise splayed over Basil’s face. He gasps, fist closed over his fat, leaking cock, eyes turning up to look at you as his mouth falls open.

“B-baby I…o-oh f-fuuu-”

Hot white strings shoot from the strangled head of Basil’s dick. His glistening cum spills around his fingers and coats the back of his hand. He looks at the ground, cheeks going flush under your gaze. You wait patiently for his breathing to go back to normal before you speak.

“Basil, w-what are you doing?” You ask, despite it being perfectly obvious.

“S-sorry I…I just…you wore that thin shirt and…and you don’t have on a bra so your nipples are…they’re…” he wipes some drool off his lips and looks away from you.

“Why didn’t you just take what you needed from me then? I was sitting right there on the couch with you, you don’t need to do this. Next time, Basil, I want you to use me. Any time you need, you can just have me.”

At first, Basil doesn’t quite understand. Surely you can’t mean any-time. So when he looks at you with that deep furrowed brow and confused expression, you elaborate.

“Literally any time you want me, you can have me. My mouth, my hands, my pussy…” you give him a reassuring grin, “my body belongs to you.”

Basil looks like he could cry, but holds it back, nodding slowly before getting up to start cleaning himself off.

The next evening…

You’re doing the dishes after dinner, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re surprised he hasn’t done anything yet. If you could read his mind, the truth is that he’s still hesitant to just take you. While he stands there in the kitchen though, seeing the way your pretty thighs pressed together as your skirt rode up your hips, he can’t ignore the growing need pooling in his stomach.

You’re prepared, wearing nothing under the shirt skirt just in case he needs you. You feel him crowd in behind you, breath hot and kissing the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Are you sure this…” he presses his denim covered bulge against your ass, “is okay?”

You breathe out a moan, “feel me…”

Basil uses both hands to tuck under the fabric of your skirt, pushing it up over your rear. He shudders at the sight of your pretty ass, not expecting you to have gone commando just for him. He pulls down his pants and boxer-briefs as one, wrapping a firm hand around his girth.

He uses the thick head of his cock to slide between your folds; he shudders feeling how warm and wet you are already. You’re ready for him. Basil whimpers, sliding forward and bottoming out as deep as he can get into your soaking heat. You’re so drenched that when he snaps his hips forward again, the sound of your skin slaps loudly into the kitchen.

Basil reaches his hand around your waist and flattens it on your tummy, pulling you back while sliding himself forward to feel you deeper. He reaches his other hand up to cup one of your bouncing tits. - bouncing because he can’t stop thrusting faster and faster because it feels so fucking good -.

He’s sorry - so fucking sorry - for the way he’s fucking you so hard your hips slam against the counter. He’ll make it up to you later when his face is covered in your juices and your thighs are shaking against his ears.

Basil doesn’t last long, no more than three minutes and his face is against your spine, rasping loudly and he’s pulling you back over his cock, planting his spend deep in your slick hole. His body jolts, he feels your cunt clench around him, milking whatever’s left in his dick.

He’s so eager already to take you again, but his cock is going soft inside you as he comes down from his high. The sound of his cum dripping on the floor as he slips out of you is all you can focus on, mind numb from the feeling of Basil using you like you asked. You turn around and touch his scarred cheek.

“Was I a good little fuck toy? Did you like using me baby?”

Breathless, Basil leans into you, slotting his lips over yours.

“Mm, yes…t-thank you,” he whispers, “thank you for that.”

You giggle at his beautifully pathetic and hooded gaze.

“Don’t thank me, just remember…any…time…”

Random Blurbs Masterlist

perv neighbor basil smut im begging u

Perv!Neighbour Basil finds your camgirl account

Summary: Basil is your neighbour, and after having formed a parasocial relationship with you, he finds your camgirl account. Things get.. a little out of hand.

Warnings: Oh man this one is filthy- Stalking, Parasocial relationships, m masturbation, cum tribute, professional sex work, cumming untouched, jealously, crying, like alot of crying, sextoy use, f reader

Notes: Myself and @ominoose have been bouncing this headcanon around in the dms for a bit and I finally have the opportunity to write it! I hope you like it baby tysm for requesting xx I really got carried away like this is SO LONG my goodness- This can be read as a part 2 to this fic but can also be enjoyed standalone x

Basil has been watching you for a while

You're his neighbour, you moved in to the flat opposite him a couple months ago, and the only verbal interaction you'd had with him was a polite introduction through his letterbox when he wouldn't open the door

You hadn't seen him at all, physically. He'd seen you though.

Oh had he seen you

His heart swelled every morning and evening he'd watch you leave and come home from work, nights out, trips to the shop, ect

His relationship to you, practically non-existent as it were, at least from your perspective, was... complicated

Half of Basil understood you two were already dating, loyal to one another. The other half of him understood that that was a fantasy, and he often found himself caught between the two realities

Poor Basil so desperately wants the untruth to become the truth. He wants to kiss you, profess his love, have it be your hand tugging him off instead of his own every night

But since the... accident, he wouldn't dare let you see him. You'd never accept him- no one would. He was a monster

Poor baby, so insecure 😔

Eventually, jerking off whilst peering at you through the letterbox whenever you enter or exit your home isn't enough. He needs to see you, properly. Stare at your beautiful face and take in all it's contours and shapes without having to have you do the same to him

And so.. he goes online.

He knows your name- you'd told him when you'd tried to be a nice neighbour and say hi, and so with a little sleuthing, he finds your Instagram

Basil spends hours pouring through your every photo, getting wildly jealous and crying (yes he cries poor baby) when he sees photos with other men, and roughly pulling on his cock until its red and raw, having cum so many times over his thighs and chest.

He becomes even more obsessed, his need to see you covered in his cum in some way or another becomes an vital as eating and drinking

He starts printing out your photos and cumming on them- considers laminating them so he can wipe them clean and go all over again

But then what about keeping them covered? Forever staining you with his seed? He can't pick

One day, when he's going about his ritual of jerking it to your insta, he finds a new link in your bio;

"18+ site! Adult only content! Click here❤️"

That perks his interest

Sure he's not stranger to porn, or camgirls, what with all the time he spends alone watching porn, but you? He'd never have assumed.

Basil's heart races, and his dick twitches beneath his sweats

Tentatively, he clicks on the link

Your website looks professional, all properly set up

The first thing he sees is a trailer video- and oh boy

He literally cannot stop the sudden, untouched orgasm flooding through him when he sees the sneak peak you've put together of your content

He's so loud moaning and whining, tears well up again in his eyes becuase he's so sensitive but he needs more

This teaser video of you playing with your nipples and rubbing your tiny pussy through your panties isn't enough

And so, Basil goes to your subscription page. Immediately gets the highest sub deal, he doesn't care if he can't afford it. He needs you so much he'd bankrupt himself if he had to

The benefits of this subscription are many; He gets access to your work DM, he gets two video calls with you a week, and he gets to request some content from you.

Basil couldn't not be happier, he even forgts about his facial insecurity when a few minutes later he sees a message from you pop up on his notifs;

"Hi baby! Thankyou so so much for becoming one of my top donors! It really does mean the world x"

He forces himself to respond, anxiety creeping up his shoulder;

"Yeah np love your work."

Jesus he didn't mean to come off so dickish

You quell his feelings of worry with a smiley emoji, and ask him "So, what's with the username? "Lightningface"?"

He gulps. "I just like lightning is all."

"It is such a pretty phenomenon."

Pretty.. you'd called it pretty. The thing that had maimed him, his deformity... might you have called that pretty too?

"Soooo you're due to request some content from me! What would you like?"

And honestly, Basil isn't sure

Anything you'd give him, he'd take

"I don't mind."

"Are you sure? It is your request that you've paid me for, you can ask for whatever you like!"

Basil really thinks for a moment. A real head scratcher.

"Can you say my name?"

Basil doesn't realise how possessive he sounds

"Sure can!"

"Can it be my irl name?"

"Of course! What is it?"

The man holds his breath as he responds; "Basil. Like the herb."

"Omg!!! That's such a cute name!"

He giggles to himself, you're so fucking adorable he loves you so much

You tell him you'll make his request into a segment during your next livestream

He's jealous, he doesn't want you performing for anyone else.. but like I said, he'll take what he can get

Most of the time until his segment of your livestream he spends crying and jerking off in a strange cycle.

You're his, you shouldn't be showing off.. he feels like you've betrayed him. But at the same time you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen

Poor Basil is so conflicted

Finally, however, his request segment begins

You smile sweetly at the camera, and wave

"So, next up, I have a request from one of my top donors, he has such a cute name! Said he didn't mind what I did so I think i'm gonna surprise him~"

You reach to the side, pulling forth a clear silicone dildo

It's big. Basil gulps, could you take it? What if it hurt you?

You place it beneath you on your bed and slowly tease it between your folds, having already discarded all your clothes at this point

Basil chokes, his worn out cock stirring to life again

And then.. oh then..

You moan out his name, slowly sinking yourself onto the sextoy

Basil moans with you, and figures you must have an expensive microphone because the sounds coming from the screen are all but blasphemous

He loses himself to the rhythmic squelching of your cunt and your moans of his names

He cums so quickly, and there's so much of it, all over his chest

Poor baby whimpers, trying desperately to coax his poor dick back to life, not wanting to have finished so quickly

He wanted to last longer for you..

Luckily you finish not too long after him, he wants to swallow all of your sounds with his mouth

He's never seen such perfection

Glistening with sweat and panting, satisfied, you address the camera for the final time that night;

"I hope you enjoyed Basil, again thankyou so much for donating, I love you all so much, goodnight!"

You end the stream, Basil is plunged back into the dark loneliness of his flat

He sits for a few moments, taking in what just happened..

He soon finds himself looking at wedding rings online

Just One More

Pairing: Basil Stitt x F!reader

Summary: You're going away on a work trip and Basil tries to get his fill of you before you go. But it seems like he just can't get enough.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, stalker type behavior, obsessive/perverted behavior and thoughts, free-use, consensual somnophilia, mention of male masturbation & voyeurism, thigh-fucking, unprotected p in v, degradation, dirty talk, teasing, spitting, spit play(kind of), hair pulling, choking, overstimulation, cum feeding, filming(general consent to do so in their relationship but no explicit consent given beforehand), cockwarming

WC: 3.2k

A/N: Was originally going to be a Steven fic but I think this level of depravity and obsession is so much more fitting with Basil. He's such a pathetic mess and I love it.

Your dynamic with Basil is simple. You very quickly learned how he is. His wants. His needs. So you were more than happy to give him free reign to be as perverted and devious as he’d like. Before you waltzed into his life, he had already felt like he knew you intimately. He didn’t stalk you, per say, but he had become a bit obsessed with the brief glimpses he got of you as you lived in the building across the alley from his.

He'll never forget the first time he saw you. You appeared in your window one night, the glow of your bedroom light wrapping around your body, forming a beautiful silhouette. You looked ethereal, he thought. Like an angel. You didn’t have curtains, but if you did, he would've broken into your apartment and torn them down himself.

 He never had the courage to ask you if it was intentional, but he likes to think you knew exactly what you were doing. Putting on a show for him every time you were in your bedroom, walking around fully exposed. Often times you were fresh out of the shower, water dripping down your naked form.

It had become a ritual. You would come into view and his hand would immediately slip down his pants. And in less time than he'd like to admit, he was cumming over his hand, tears forming in his eyes as he was desperate for it to be spilling over you instead.

Not much had changed since you got together. Now you just happened to share a living space, so it was a lot more convenient. He touches himself at the thought of you constantly, which usually involves him either digging through your drawers or dirty laundry to use a pair of your panties or any article of clothing that holds your scent.  Or he uses some of the picture and videos he has of you.

You had shared your collection with him. You had countless videos of you and him messing around but what he found himself using most often were the photos you would send to tease him, turning him into a pleading, desperate mess, just begging to touch you. Like the ones you would send of yourself with your skirt pulled up and tits out in the mirror at work, when he would text you and beg you to give him something, anything, as he sat at home counting down the minutes until you got back.

He particularly loved the ones that he took himself, usually of you when you're in bed and he’s standing over you getting off to your sleeping form. You two had a full free use arrangement, which he takes advantage of whenever he can. Having full access to you was a little overwhelming at first, seeing as he was used to viewing you from afar and practicing all the self-restraint he had knowing he couldn’t have you. Now he can have you whenever he wants but he still feels the need to do what he used to do; sneak around and feel a sense of shame at the dirty thoughts he has of you. He still experiences that same shame, except now he, and you, get off on it. 

You had come up with a code, though, a little red hair tie that you can slip on your wrist to tell him that he shouldn’t disturb you, if need be. You usually only use it if you're not feeling particularly well that day or if you have a long day of work ahead of you and really need the sleep. Tonight would be one of those nights, but you decide to take pity on him. You’re leaving for a week-long work trip in the morning and it would be nice to get some sleep. You struggle to sleep when you’re away from home and your partner so you want to just enjoy a nice night of slumber in his warm arms. But you know he wants to get as much out of you as he can to try and tide himself over until you get back.

Basil lays behind you now, staring at your bare wrist in the sliver of moonlight cast over you as you sleep. That's not what he expected. He momentarily thinks maybe you just forgot to slip it on. But he knows you. You’re very generous, always giving him what he needs. Not to mention your sex drive pretty much matches his, so you can usually keep up with how needy and desperate he can be.

But sometimes he gets in a mood where he’s insatiable. And today was just one of those days. He’s going to miss you terribly and he’s trying not to think about the next seven days he’s going to spend moping around until you get back. He struggles to be alone, and like you, he can’t get a good night's sleep without you there, his thoughts filled with nothing but you until you return.

 You had really given him your all today, though, moving around the house to fuck him on every surface you could think of. You ended up on the floor in the middle of the hallway leading to your room and you rode him until he saw stars. You had eventually worn yourself out and after your last round you told him it was time to shower and turn in for the night, but he still had that hungry look in his eyes. So, you decided to forgo the little red band. You were so exhausted you weren't sure you'd even wake up.

Now sleeping soundly next to him, he looks down at your body. He had wished so badly that you two could fuck each other to sleep, nice and slow until you both slip into unconsciousness while he's still buried inside you. But you were out like a light the second your head hit the pillow.

He’s behind you, hard cock resting against your bare ass. He shed his clothes, needing to feel himself directly against your skin. He decides to use your thighs to get off, knowing you'd be the least likely to wake up this way. He really wants you to get some sleep but something he never takes into consideration is his severe lack of control.

He rubs some spit on himself, and pushes his dick between your plush thighs. He immediately coils his body around yours, and you shift against him. He stills, worried he woke you. You nestle deeper into his hold, but your breathing is still slow and even, indicating you're still asleep. He gradually slides closer and closer to your center, until his length is wrapped in your folds. The slick he can feel starting to form makes him shudder and he starts thrusting faster.

He catches on your entrance and you sigh quietly, but he notices your eyes are still closed. The brief contact with your hole reminds him of just how good it feels to slip inside and he realizes he’s not as strong willed as he had thought. He needs to be inside you. He hikes your leg up and rubs himself against your clit and your breath hitches. He continues this motion and eventually your eyes start to flutter open. Before you can look back to see what’s happening, he pushes into you. You both groan and he attempts to steady his breathing, trying not to cum yet.

“Just couldn’t control yourself, could you? Fucking me all day wasn't enough? So fucking needy.” you mumble. He whines pathetically into your shoulder, the shame painting his cheeks red. The look on his spurs you on. He's already a mess, clearly desperate to cum.

“You can’t help it though, can you? Go on baby, take what you need.” you coo. He sighs in relief and starts rocking into you, slow at first but when you grab him by the curls and crash his lips into yours, he speeds up, thrusts already sloppy. His breathing gets faster and faster and you realize how close he is.

You pull away. “You’re going to cum already? This is the last time you’re going to be inside me for a while, not even going to try and make it last? Pathetic.” you tease. He groans, silently cursing himself for being so weak, but he can’t help it. Your warm walls hug him so tight; you always bring him to the edge so quickly. He huffs in determination and shakes his head.

“ N-no.” he stutters, trying to think about anything else other than how you feel wrapped around him, how the closeness of your body flusters him. He begins his movements again, slow, trying to stave off his impending release. “Faster for me baby, c’mon” you grab his ass, pulling him into you deeper, trying to build to your own release. You quickly realize that he won't make it long enough for you to get off.

That's okay, you're plenty satisfied from earlier and the thought of him using you for his own pleasure has fresh slick forming between your legs, making him glide into you even faster. He pulls out, denying himself his release yet again and rolls you over. He lays on top of you and rests his head onto your chest, trying to catch his breath. “What’s wrong, I thought you wanted to cum? You were desperate enough to start using me while I was sleeping.” another whimper escapes his lips

“Not yet” he mutters, then moves his head to latch onto your left nipple and begins sucking hard. You arch your back, moaning at the sensation. You know what he’s doing. As much as your breasts turn him on, they have a way of soothing him even more. It comforts him to mash his face into your chest, enjoying your warmth and your scent. When he’s calmed down enough, he slides back into you, making you gasp. He wraps his arms around you and begins rutting into you.

He realizes he can't hold an any longer and he decides he's ready to let go. He starts giving deep, sporadic thrusts and shutters at the drag of your silky, wet walls. You pull his face from your chest and wrap your hand around his throat. His thrusts are short and uneven, but that in combination with the pressure on his throat has his eyes rolling back and he's practically drooling.

You're desperate to see him cum and you start to tease him, knowing that drives him crazy and deeper into fucked out bliss. "Do you touch me in my sleep often? I know you sneak off into the bathroom to use my panties if it's taking me too long to doze off, but what do you do to me when I'm sound asleep?"

All he can do is mewl. He can't form a single thought apart from how good you feel. "Do you use my hands? My thighs? Tits? I know you use my mouth. I can always taste you on my tongue the morning after." He pushes his neck deeper into your grasp and lets out a choked-out moan. He has now completely stopped moving and is now getting off on your words alone.

"Touching me in my sleep, stealing my panties, spying on me in the shower." His half-lidded eyes fly wide open. He thought he was being discreet about that. Usually, he'll just slip in and ask to join you but sometimes he gets the urge to just stand in the hallway and watch you through the crack in the door.

"Oh, thought I didn't notice that? I can hear you whining while you fist your cock. Such a perv." Tears well in his eyes at the humiliation, but you know he gets off on it. You're not sure if he realizes it but you know part of him does these things hoping to be caught. Get you to call him a dirty boy, tell him how perverted he is. Luckily, you're just as depraved. You're basically living under the same roof as your stalker and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"I can't h-help it." He mumbles. "I want you all the time." His confession makes you smile and you pull his lips to yours. He purrs, enjoying the sweet taste of you, and licks into your mouth sloppily. He's making it messy intentionally and you know exactly what he wants. You chuckle softly at the desperation and pull away, strings of spit still connecting your lips. You tighten your hand around his throat and use your other hand to give a sharp tug to his hair, and he gasps. With his mouth agape, you spit right onto his tongue.

He lets out a satisfied groan and you do it again, this time getting it on his face as well. He immediately wipes it off and shoves his fingers in his mouth, not wanting to waste one drop. He then pushes his fingers in your mouth, swiping the spit right off your tongue. You gag a little as his fingers slip farther down your throat, trying to get as much as he can. He loves that sound so he does it a few more times, then pulls his digits back into his mouth and begins sucking on them frantically. He hums at the taste.

"You're disgusting." you sigh, watching his movements. Despite your remark, you love the way he's licking and slurping up every last drop. Your comment has him twitching inside you. As much as you would like to make him cum just by cockwarming him while your filthy words drive him over the edge, something you have done many times before, you want to give him something you know will put him out of commission for the rest of the night.

 ou push him off, and out, of you which pulls a dramatic whine from the man who was enjoying your warmth. You push him onto his back and straddle his hips. He whimpers, readying himself to feel you slide down onto his cock.  This is usually how you end things. He comes the fastest in this position so it's become your go to 'finishing move'. You want to give him one last ride that will hopefully satiate him.

Sliding yourself over his length a few times, coating him in your slick, you guide him to your entrance and sheath his cock inside you in one swift motion. You grab his throat immediately and he lets out the most pathetic sound. You can tell he's already fucked out and you have to stop yourself from laughing. It's honestly adorable how quickly he falls apart like this.

“Yeah? You like that, princess" you tease, in that sultry tone that goes straight to his dick. This pushes him right over the edge and before you can even start grinding on him, his back is arching off the mattress and he grabs your hips with a bruising grip as he spills deep into you. He thrashes his head back and forth on the pillow and he's sucking in short, shallow breaths. Once he's you've pulled every last drop from him, he attempts to open his eyes, not yet fully aware of his surroundings.

There is one thing he can see and feel as the aftershocks rip through him, and that's you. So, he pulls you down to his chest, and you bury your face in his neck. You start planting kisses up his neck and across his jaw whispering sweet praises to him. You then cradle his face, and rub your thumbs back and forth across his cheeks, in attempt to help bring him down from his high. You rest your forehead against his, trying to get him to match his breathing to yours and that seems to work.

You eventually move down his body to clean him off with your tongue. He yanks at your hair but he goes back and forth between pulling you closer and trying to push you off. Next you have to take care of yourself, not wanting to drip his cum all over the skin you just licked clean. Usually, he’d enthusiastically clean his spend out of you with his tongue, but he’s still recovering so you scoop it out with your fingers and feed it to him. He happily accepts and he lazily licks at your fingers while you stroke his hair.

You eventually cuddle up next to him and he moves behind you again, placing you back into his arms. "I hope that was enough. If you start to miss me just imagine me on top of you like that again. I want you like that when I get back. I'll ride you just like I did tonight, but I'm not stopping until I'm satisfied." you smirk and you turn your head over your shoulder to look up at him.

He gives you a bashful, almost guilty look as he points to the nightstand and says, "I won't need to imagine." You follow his finger and your eyes land on the phone propped up, pointed directly at the both of you. Your eyes widen a little. You've given him permission to film you whenever, wherever, but you're almost always privy to it, acting oblivious but knowing exactly what he's up to. A smile tugs at your lips and a warmth spread across your skin as you wonder how many more videos he has of you when you had been none the wiser.

You turn back to him, and say, "Creep" , but follow quickly with, "Send that to me." and he chuckles softly and nods. As you turn away, he pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck. It doesn't take long for you to start to fall asleep, warmed by his body and lulled by the rise and fall of his chest as you feel it move against you. Before you can drift off completely, you feel him shift, followed by his semi-hard cock stretching you once more. You can't believe it. You're a little impressed that he's even able to get aroused at all after the long day AND night that you had spent together. But, as much as you love him there's no way you can go again.

After a small gasp at the intrusion, you slide your hand into his hair and yank, commanding, "No. No more."

He hisses at the harsh tug, but assures you, "I just want to fall asleep inside you. Nothing more. I promise." You sigh. "Please?" he begs, and you can't help but give in. He's lucky you love the full feeling of having him inside you. In a weird way, it's actually comforting.

"Fine." You let go of his hair and he pulls you closer, now fully seated inside you. He sighs dreamily at the feeling.

You add, "But I'm serious, no more. Don't make me tie you down to the bed just so I can get some sleep.", only half joking. If this is how he's acting just at the thought of you leaving you can't imagine the desperate mess he'll be when you return. You can't wait.

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First Time

Fic type-> NSFW + request

Tags-> Sub/ bottom Jayce, Jayce’s first time bottoming, no protection/ cumming inside, so amab reader.

Word count-> 1560, just about a short story

AN-> I can’t find a way to reply to the initial req so I hope you find this anon, also it was a nightmare trying to publish this but I’m glad I got it done in a timely manner.

Masterlist | AO3

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“This ok?”

“Yes just, feels… different.”

You’re careful to ease your finger inside of him, for the first time that is. You’d both decided to ‘switch it up’ given Jayce is usually the one fucking you- not that it became boring or anything no way, (the rumours going around Piltover were in fact true) it’s just you’d been together long enough to start experimenting a little. And this seemed like a solid first step into unknown territory, at least for Jayce.

“That’s it.”

You mumble, leaning in to place gentle kisses against his jaw, trailing down to his neck and collarbones as you eventually reach your knuckle. You begin ever so slowly pulling it back out again when you feel his hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, wait just…”

“Yea?”

Stopping your movements you look up at him, quirking an eyebrow. He looks unsteady, sending a pang of worry through you.

“We don’t have to do this…?”

His mouth hangs open a second or two before answering.

“No I do want to, I do, and I don’t think you can be any gentler… but it’s all new and- and weird and…”

“Different?”

His lips form a small smile, you breathe a subtle sigh of relief at his reassurance.

“Yes, so let’s just, go slow.”

You take out your finger and grab the bottle of lube from beside you once more.

“Ok, do you want to adjust or anything? Then we’ll try again.”

He reaches behind him and takes one of the pillows he was laying his head on.

“Put this under me, I feel too sat-up.”

And that you do, you may feel a little further away from his face than before but that should change soon.

“Let’s try more lube this time, see if that helps.”

You squirt some on the same finger as before, getting some on the one next to it, and place one of his legs over the top of yours for a better angle.

Your eyes meet in a silent agreement before you look back down to the task at hand, placing one of your own on his waist.

The finger enters him once more, able to make it to the knuckle fairly quickly this time.

You steadily insert the second, making Jayce groan quietly at the stretch. You begin moving your fingers in, out and around without prodding too much just to get him used to the feeling. He takes a gasp of air when you brush over his prostate.

“Is-“

“Just keep going.”

It’s not like Jayce to interrupt. Glancing up you notice him staring at the ceiling, a faint flush on his cheeks. Deeming him a bit more than okay, you continue.

“Alright.”

You find the spot once more, curling your fingers and putting some pressure against it. Jayce only lets out a breathy moan and lets his eyes fall closed briefly.

“Yea that’s… that’s good.”

You smirk at his reaction.

“Hm, that’s an improvement.”

You continue like this for around a minute more, making double sure he’ll be ready for the real thing. You probably would’ve gone on for longer if he hadn’t started to get impatient.

“I’m ready, it’s fine now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure, trust me.”

You take your fingers out and put some of the remaining lube on them on your ever-hardening dick. You grab the bottle and put some more on just to be safe.

“Just, c’mere, please.”

You shuffle closer to him on the bed, he puts his other leg on top your thigh without you having to ask him too. You bite your lip as you line yourself up, then slowly start pushing yourself in.

Jayce’s thighs flex as he tenses up.

“Just relax for me, nearly there…”

You think it good to start stroking him to distract from the foreign feeling. He sighs as you feel his body relax a little, you hook your other hand around one of his thighs near to his hips. Your bodies get pressed flush together as you enter him to the hilt.

“Ooookaaayyy…”

A breathy whisper from Jayce as he adjusts to the fullness inside of him. His hands land on you anywhere they can reach for support (and probably not knowing what to do with them otherwise). Needing some stimulation yourself, you roll your hips into him and lean down to kiss him too to distract from the movement. You both groan into the other’s mouth at all the new sensations.

Kissing down his jaw again he lets his head fall back and you feel his gentle pants against your ear.

“You feel so good Jayce, so tight.”

“M-more… please…”

He sounds hesitant, but equally as desperate. A tone you can’t resist.

You let your own need slip through the reigns as you start pulling your hips back more and more with each thrust. Jayce’s hands reach up your chest, one going up to squeeze your shoulder. He can barely contain his own noises as you find a steady but still gentle rhythm to fuck him to, now abandoning his dick in favour of holding his hips instead.

“C’mon, shit, you can do more.”

“We said we’d take it slow-“

“Fuck that…”, he looks up at you with those eyes you know all too well. His eyebrows furrowed but his eyes still wide- pupils blown,

“… so fuck me.”

You sigh and hoist one of his legs up so his calf rests on your shoulder. Your thrusts pick up again- only faster this time. He throws his head back as you make his body shift with them. An audible slapping sound echoes from your hips against his ass.

“Fuck!”

A light sheen begins to form on both of you, his dick now leaking against his navel- hard and twitching.

“God Jayce… doing so good f’me.”

You take hold of his cock in one hand and begin stroking in time with your thrusts, the other is placed next to his head to prop yourself up some more. This pushes him deeper into some sort of half-folded-missionary position. He moans as he looks down at the sight of himself getting fucked like this.

He throws his head back again to look up at you.

“Harder, please harder, I can take it, make me take it.”

You wouldn’t be surprised his he was rambling at this point and he already looks thoroughly fucked-out, so there’s not a chance you’re slowing down now.

“Fuckin’ hell, didn’t know you’d be so desperate for it.”

You let your head hang as you let go of his cock and opt for pulling his hips towards you more, dragging him down the pillows.

“Didn’t know it’d, it’d be so good- right there, please.”

Try to keep drilling into the same spot, fatigue starting to get the better of you with the pace Jayce has set.

“Always a… piece of work with you huh?”

Heavy breaths intertwine between you as you let your head fall just above Jayce’s shoulder, almost rutting into him like an animal. His moans and whines fuelling you now that you feel your legs start to shake-

“Harder.”

“No-“

“Why-“

“Need to cum, gotta pull out.”

“Inside...”

You groan into his shoulder as you feel his arms grip your back, nails digging into your flesh.

“Jayce… fuuuuck.”

The leg not pressed into his chest wraps around your waist, urging you not to move another inch. You come to a still as he presses you against him as best he can with his leg between the two of you, you can’t help but cum inside of him. He reaches down to touch himself as he arches his back into you, high-pitched whimpers being let out into your neck.

“Jayce-“

You feel his cum paint your stomachs as his walls spasm around your spent cock.

Both in a post-orgasm haze, you release your tight grip on the other. Just settling for a few seconds of being near each other before you start to get too warm against Jayce’s burning skin.

“We have to do that more often.”

“Come on, clean-up’s gonna be harder now that I came inside you.”

“It was better than I had thought it was going to be.”

You scoff and smile at his comment.

“I’m not one to over-hype things Jayce.”

— – - – — – - – —

A while later you two dry off after a shared shower, clean sheets on the bed. (courtesy of you, and only you).

“So, outta ten?”

Jayce tries to turn to look at you- already comfortable in bed- as he pulls on his sweat pants, stumbling a bit in his hunched flamingo-like position.

“Er, is that how we’re ranking sex now?”

“I don’t know, I just wanna know how it was. Thoughts, feelings, whatever.”

He doesn’t bother trying the strings at the front as he lays himself down across your legs.

“I told you already.”

“No I mean like, what happened to taking it slow you know?”

You smile knowingly at him, reading him like a book as he fidgets a bit.

“It was… really really good.”

“Aw, just good?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, before you wave a dismissive hand in his general direction.

“I get it, I get it.”

You both lay quietly for a few moments, both just taking in each other’s presence.

“Didn’t know you’d be a cumslut though-“

“O-kay, that’s enough talking for today.”

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STEVENN😍

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Call me something

Fic type -> NSFW + Drabble

Warnings -> Degrading kink, sub Steven, just jerking Steven off 🤷‍♀️, cum eating too

Word count -> 972, three or four book pages

Please check out my other drabbles either on here or on my AO3, the link is at the end <3

~Masterlist~ / Drabble I made alongside this one

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“Shit Steven…”

You feel his boner through his jeans as you half-straddle one of his legs on his bed, your knee pressing up against it.

“Ah, um, sorry love…”

He looks down, or to the side, wherever you’re not which isn’t anywhere really since you’re so close to his face.

“No no no no no, it’s cute how you’re all hot and bothered for me already.”

You say with a playful smirk as you place one of your hands on his waist and the other under his chin to lift his flushing face up to meet yours. He can’t seem to help but give you those doe eyes as he finally looks at you.

“I love how fucking sensitive you are, any little touch I give you drives you up the wall.”

Steven’s lips part as if to say something, a small exhale is let out onto your skin instead. He furrows his eyebrows as he presses his lips shut and tries to look away once more.

A spark of worry is sent through you from his reaction.

“Shit ‘m sorry Steven, I didn’t mean it like that…”

A beat of silence passes through, Steven finally says something beating you to it.

“No I… you… I-I’d like it if you meant it like that…”

You bite the inside of your lip as less-than-appropriate situations flood your mind, you lean in so your lips are nearly touching. He looks back at you with those same doe eyes.

“How far can I go?”

You trail the hand on his waist down to his hips.

“U-um, just whatever- whatever comes to mind…”

You crash your lips together in an instant, finding a rhythm quickly. Steven moans into the kiss as your hand moves to grip his hardening cock through his jeans, pressing your palm into it making his arms fly up to hug you closer.

You pull away and start kissing down his neck, sucking hickeys all down the length of it.

“Y/n-“

He involuntarily jerks his hips up into your hand, applying more of that sweet pressure he craves.

“So desperate. You’ve no patience.”

You mutter against his skin. Steven squeezes his eyes shut as a moan catches in his throat, feeling your hot mouth against it still.

A smirk forms on your lips as you realise the sheer effect your words are having on him.

You hastily unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans to reach down into his boxers.

“I c-can feel you grinning, you-you smug bastard.”

“I wasn’t tryna hide it”

His dick in hand you start to slowly stroke him, teasing the tip with your thumb.

“Oh-“

Steven lets his head fall forward into the crook of your neck, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt holding you close to him.

“You’re clingy too…”

You feel him sigh into your neck, then his breathing gradually getting faster and heavier as you speed up your hand.

“Don’t you- don’t you want me to do something?”

“No, I like seeing you like this. God I’m only jerking you off and you’re holding onto me for dear life.”

He groans and gasps slightly as you tease around his slit, massaging that sweet spot just below the head.

“C-call me something-“

“What?”

A moan interrupts his line of thinking.

“Just- just…”

“You have to know how pathetic you’re being Steven, getting off on me calling you things.”

It may just be something off the top of your head but his thighs flex nonetheless, almost closing in around your hand. He lets out a shaky breath against your shoulder.

“‘m close…”

“Of course you are, fucking slut. It barely takes anything for you to cum.”

“God-“

His grip on your back tightens as he arches his back into you, there’s sure to be marks left behind. Spurts of cum litter his abdomen and your hand.

Steven lets his head fall back on the pillow as he catches his breath, little moans weaving their way out as he comes down from his high.

All you feel you can do is look at how worn out he already is.

“You really enjoyed that didn’t you?”

“Well yea, I… I guess so.”

You chuckle quietly as you move to lay down next to him.

“I still have your cum all over my hand.”

He furrows his eyebrows.

“What d’you want me to do about that?”

He turns his head to look at you, not expecting the lusty stare he’s met with.

“You know you wanna.”

You smile as he looks at your hand held in front of him, then back to you. He purses his lips and can’t help but look back at your hand once more.

“Come on, I can practically hear you thinking it.”

You swing a leg over his waist and hold your fingers to his lips. He opens his mouth and starts to lick his cum off of your hand.

“That’s it, clean up your mess.”

He looks up at you as he licks a fat stripe up your wrist to the tips of your fingers, then going back and gathering the rest of it up. You can feel his breath against your hand, and how he clings onto your forearm so tightly preventing it from moving anywhere.

You reach down to him with your other hand and thread your fingers through his unkempt hair.

“Don’t waste any of it Steven…”

You narrow your eyes, he groans against your hand and both of you furrow your eyebrows.

He finally gets all of it off your hand, sucking a bit on the ends of your fingers just to tease.

“There…”

Barely a murmur out of him and he lets your arm go, awkwardly placing them at his sides not being entirely sure what to do with them.

You tighten your grip on his soft curls making him tense up beneath you.

“My turn.”

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My AO3

mdni

i saw a post talking about soap being an actual loser who’s never got any action in his life. growing up catholic and then serving in the military he’s never had any actual experience. he compensates by chatting up birds and lying about how experienced he is. he radiates arrogance when he’s actually desperate to be in between a pretty birds thighs for once.

so when he meets you at the pub and you fall for his lies and the both of you end up on your couch. your on top of him rutting against his jeans, whimpering against his kisses, and he feels like his on cloud nine. and then he feels himself getting close already and he wants to shoot himself in the leg right there.

“bonnie.. ‘old on—“ and then his hands are gripping your hips so tight and the most guttural groan leaves his lips, head thrown back against the back of the couch, and he’s panting like a dog. and then you have the nerve to giggle which makes his neck heat up in embarrassment.

“tsk, naughty boy.” you purred, hand going to curl at the base of his neck, gripping his hair and pushing his lips to yours again. that’s when johnny felt a wire switch inside his brain and he felt himself chubbing up again.

Grab his slutty ass so hard his legs spread.