#addicted to Pris

[ottimismocinico]

Prisci

#pris #addicted to Pris

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊Katsuki fucks like he can’t live w out you

『♡』 unprotected sex, spitting in mouth, cum eating, pussy licking, creampie, squirting, f!reader, reader has acrylics, biting

Katsuki fucks like he’s going to die without you. His hands shake despite his rough grip on your hips, yanking you down onto his cock. You gasp and moan every time he does it, fingers desperately searching for something to grip onto.

His mouth finds yours, tongue invading your mouth, like he’s hungry. It’s like he’s trying to devour you. He wants to take your soul and keep it. Make it his- make you his.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ He gasps, face tingling and shaking with pleasure.

Your pussy is squelching, frothing at the base as slick juices run between the two of you. His thick hand reaches to your jaw, thumb pushing between the plush of your lips.

He pries your mouth open and spits, a long string of saliva drizzling into your mouth. Your head throws back against the mattress and you squeal. The coil in your stomach begins to grow taut.

Your hand reaches to blond hair, tugging him lower and you push his spit back into his mouth with your tongue. He groans into the kiss before pulling back.

Katsuki snatches a pillow from his side of the bed, hooking his arm under your knees to lift your ass. It’s placed under your lower back and he shoves your knees to your shoulders, folding you in half.

The angle makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Thick, hot, heavy dick slamming into you with long strokes. He’s got to be in your stomach- you can feel it. The head pushes against the spongey spot inside you and squirt gushes from your pussy onto the both of you.

“Give it to me, y’feel like- oh-“ Katsuki babbles, watching you frantically nod your head.

Your pussy clenches around him and he’s on cloud nine. Acrylic nails dig into his shoulders, your teeth clamp down on the side of his throat. It’s raw- needy and desperate.

He can’t get enough of you. Stray hair sticks to the side of his face, sweat beads at the nape of his neck. His muscles are almost sore from fucking into your tight cunt. And he can’t stop.

He’s addicted. You begin rambling between moans and gasps, telling him filthy things. How he’s god, that you’re in love with him, no one’s gonna ever compare. And the coil in your tummy snaps.

Because he presses his cock against that special spot and stays. As much as it pains him he doesn’t move, waiting. And you explode, clear juice spurting from your pussy and all over his cock and pillow.

Your head throws back and you scream, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He’s the closest to heaven he’ll ever be when you tell him to cum inside you.

And god, he does. His fingers dig into the plush of your thigh and he clamps his jaw, teeth marking your shoulder. His hips stutter and he slams his length into you. His entire body goes taught and he fills you. Katsuki starts whining at the thought of what he’s doing.

He can feel his cock head pressed against your cervix now. If there was a way, he’d go further. But for now his cum fills your pussy, drenching the inside of your walls. He pushes your hips up.

“Don’t let it out, fuck- don’t.” Katsuki rasps, fingers running through his hair to move it out of the way.

He laps at your pussy and you squirm in his grip. He’s slurping his own cum out of you like it’s his last meal on this god forsaken earth. Licking at the squirt on your ass, his white ropes, sucking at your clit. You buck up and fuck into his mouth a bit, trying to ride his tongue and escape all the same.

You cum like that, shaking and writhing. He leaves a smack to your ass and shoves his cock back into you, fucking the cum that’s left back in. He’s got one more in him.

You get flipped over to your chest, where his cock is bullying that same spot again. And you just can’t stop squirting. It’s everywhere. The bed is soaked, you’re soaked, he’s soaked.

He finishes in you again after you’re drooling all over the bed and desperately begging for it. He thinks about another round. He doesn’t know how long he can go without you.

Cause to him you put the stars in the sky and your pussy tastes better than water to a man dying of dehydration.

#<3 I’m ovulating teehee #gochujang #boba time #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x yn #bakugo x you #bakugou self insert

[diejager]

not exactly a specific prompt or anything but - could you write more stepdad!könig and dbf!horangi pls? 👉👈

Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, AGE GAP public sex?, exhibitionism, fingering, under the table, mention of forced piercing, rough sex, unprotected sex, PinV, mention of anal sex, tell em if I missed any.

You jerked, dropping the fork in your hand and biting your lower lip to stop a moan from slipping through between them. Unfortunately, the sudden click of your fork and you shift in expression worried your mother, making her question you, brows furrowed and lips pursed into a frown. She was worried, you knew she was, but that was the last thing you had on mind, neither her quiet quarry about your health and unpredictable act, nor König’s piercing eyes and the food that was now sprayed on the table.

What truly worried you was Horangi and your own inability to hold your voice back. He looked nonchalant, brow quipped up in faked confusion, knowing that your reaction resulted from him, his wandering hand that slipped under the waistband of your short and into your cunt, pumping in and out fo you with a slow and unbothered pace. You jumped from the unexpected tap against your gummy wall, three fingers curling before they hit your sweet spot, sending an arousing pulse up your spine. You’d be fucked stupid by his fingers alone, thick and long - not as long as your stepfather, but they were better than yours - stretching your hole open to take his cock later that night.

“I’m ah-okay, mom,” you smiled shakily at her, hand gripping tightly around your knife, tremors wracking your body as you swallowed down moan after moan. “Just a stomach ache.”

“Oh dear, do you need to lay down?” She frowned good-naturedly, the skin on her brow wrinkling.

“Yeah,” you internally cheered, you’d be able to get away from this situation until later, when you’d be stuck under Horangi, ”Thanks mom.”

You were gagged, mouth stuffed with a soiled pair of your panties, drooling around your thong, down your lips while you wailed. You were stuffed with cock, legs jerking with every push of Horangi’s cock, walls forcibly pried open to take his thick shaft and his prettily trimmed pubes rubbing your swollen clit. You felt his cock carve the walls of your cunt to fit his girth, thicker in the middle with a petty and angry head and veins crawling up the shaft. It cured lightly, light enough to stand between his legs, but heavy just enough that you could feel it weigh you down, pounding away at your crumbling resolve.

He was panting, a husky and laboured breathing on your neck, his hot breath hitting you as he kissed down your shoulder, teeth scratching your soft and tender flesh, weak under his sharper teeth. He hungered for more; he lusted for eternal pleasure. Suckling the curve of your collar, teeth skimming the swell of your jostling breasts, nippled flared and wet from his manhandling. He dove back in, lips wrapped around your least swollen nub, sucking as if he was trying to milk it of all substance. You cried out when he bit down, sinking his fangs into the fat of your chest before he unlatched himself with a wet pop, leaving the indentations of his mouth on you. Then he did the same to your other tit, mind keen on fucking you, his dick ramming into you roughly while he gave attention to your sore nipples.

“Fuck, imagine these pierced,” he chuckled dreamily, a low, addicted daze in his mind, dreaming of piercing your nipples himself, “Wouldn’t you like that?”

You shook your head frantically, dreading giving them mor to use against you, more leverage to make your body betray and succumb to their whims, especially with how often your stepdad’s at home. You struggled under him as if to prove your point, feet kicking around his narrow waist, the scarred flesh a touch different from the rest of his body, pulling at the restraints keeping your hands tied to your headboard —his belt. You let out a ragged and angered scream, silenced by the gag but your body still shook with the force behind it, teary eyes closed while they rolled back in reluctant pleasure.

Horangi’s chest rumbled, a smile stretched awkwardly by the tiger-like scars on his face. In retaliation, he gave a few hard thrusts, rocking your bed against the wall, his cut head kissing your bruised cervix after brushing against your sweet, gummy wall. It punched the air out of your lungs, leaving you heaving and gasping for air, fully at the mercy of your stepfather’s friend-

“Ja, she would look so pretty,” König’s sudden appearance scared you, his mocking coo and statement reaffirming Horangi’s thought.

Your closed around Horangi, flinching away as much as you could in your restrained state, your fear and trepidation made you tighter and wetter, slick suddenly bursting around Horangi’s leaky cock. You could hear your stepfather move, his purposefully-loud steps booming in your ear, but you couldn’t see him, eyes rolled so far back in an explosive release. You felt the bed shift under him, dipping to a side while he loomed over you both, looking at your swollen nipples as if he was admiring how pretty they’d look if he had you pierced them, a rod straight through your round nub.

“Sehr hübsch, Schatzi,” he hummed, his rough hand sliding down the curve of your navel where he could feel every hard thrust and found your clit, rolling it with a big finger, “Or a piercing here, on your little clit.”

König smiled handsomely, a brazenly hungry stare covering his threatening and dominating composure. His ice blue eyes squinted mirthfully, gleaming with a dark urge, something that demanded control, that wanted submission and subservience from you. He’d fill that rimmed hole of yours after Horangi’s done with your pussy, spreading your ass around his thick and veiny cock that pressed uncomfortably against his briefs.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #mw2 smut #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #tw stepcest #tw: noncon #tw: r*pe #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent #tw: non con #Stepdad!konig #Stepdad!könig #Dbf!horangi #horangi x reader #horangi #kim horangi hong jin #horangi mw2 #konig smut #konig x you #könig x reader #horangi smut #cod smut #tw: dark content #dark content #dark fic

[mangoposts]

No shave November

M.S 🔞

“Oh fuck, Matt..”

Matt swears he’s in heaven, the soft skin of her thighs underneath his large hands when he spreads them open across his black duvet and pins them down to dip his tongue further into her wet folds is making his own brain and chest fuzzy inside. He feels the blood rushing to his cock the longer he has her spread out on his bed like this, completely bare with her mouth hung open and eyes pinched shut from the sensation his tongue is giving her. He feels himself grind his hips down onto the mattress from how turned on he is just by looking at her, her skin is so smooth and slightly dewy from the lotion he’d watched her apply right before pulling her into his bed. Her eyebrows were scrunched together and her tongue was nearly hanging out of her mouth from how good he was making her feel, her expression embodied the epitome of pleasure and he feels as pride swells around in his chest from knowing it’s all because of him. She tasted so addicting to him, not a single bit of excess wetness dripping from her going to waste. He keeps hooking his arms around her thighs to pull her body down closer to his face, desperate to taste more of her wet cunt.

Her voice, how velvety soft it sounded even in moments like this, every word falling from her lips sounding so needy and breathless as she praised him for how well he was treating her.

Her touch, the way her hands were brushing through his hair. Combing stray hairs from his eyes and slightly gripping on the hair by his scalp when he sucked extra harshly on her clit. He was addicted to her hands in his hair, somehow making him feel so relaxed in contrast of the acts they were performing.

His eyes never left her face once, he feels as his own expression scrunches up in pleasure just by watching her reactions to his lips on her cunt. He could cum in his pants by this, his brain was so fuzzy, only thinking about how he wanted to sink his face further into her wetness.

He was so immersed in watching her and licking at her clit, he hadn’t realized how close he was to making her cum. Her body was shaking and her chest was rising and falling rapidly, whines falling from her lips as she finally looks down at him through furrowed eyebrows and with parted lips.

“Matt baby, you’re-you’re making me feel so good.” She reaches down once more to comb her fingers through his hair, making his eyes roll back with the feeling of them in combination of her praise. He could die happily like this. He pulls back to kiss up and down her inner thighs, the scruff of his beard scratching her slightly and emitting her skin with goosebumps. Replacing his tongue with his fingers when he massages her clit with his thumb. “Yeah baby? You like my tongue on your pussy?” He’s egging her on, anything to hear her pretty voice and watch her pretty lips say his name in praise and affection. It’s making his ego and cock grow.

“Yes, yes, fuck. Please don’t stop Matty. I’m begging you.” The whiny undertone in her voice and the pouty expression on her face makes Matt smirk. With him not being able to get enough of her neediness, he pries more out of her,

“Hm? How bad do you want it?” His lips are now traveling up to her pelvic bone, kissing around the area above her pussy while his thumb continues to stroke her clit softly, she whines feeling her orgasm begin to fade at the way he denies her.

“Please.” Her voice is somewhat quiet and shaky and her head falls back against the pillows as she swallows, gripping the material of them in need.

“Please, Matt. I need to feel your tongue on my pussy. Only you know how to make me cum. Please make me cum, Matty.” She pleas, her breath getting caught in her throat when he mumbles “Good.. That’s my baby girl..” Against her pussy and begins to suck and lick at her clit harshly, now prodding two of his fingers at her entrance and pushing them deep inside of her hot, tight hole to curl them upward against her g-spot.

She gasps and reaches down yet again to tug at his hair, making his cock twitch in the confinement of his briefs and sweatpants. She feels as her stomach begins to churn, and the rest of her body begins to tingle. Her lost orgasm building back up rapidly and more intense than before.

“Matt, M-Matt, Can I cum? Please?” She looks down at him again, her eyes glossy as they meet his from below her, he only nods against her pussy, not wanting to deny her of another orgasm by pulling away. Her mouth hangs open as she feels more of her wetness soaking down to her legs. Letting out breathless moans and whines while he continues to suck on her clit and curl his fingers inside of her. The squelching sounds of her cum against his fingers emitting through his dim bedroom. She quickly begins to feel the sense of overstimulation shock through her lower half, whining out short, high pitched sounds as she pushes his head away softly and tries to grab his wrist. “No more, Matt, Please. I can’t.” She’s out of breath and her stomach is beginning to hurt from how tense her body had become from the overwhelming sensations. He pulls away from her cunt, lips red and shining in her essence as he catches his own breath. She hisses softly when he removes his fingers, he picks himself up from his spot below her and crawls up her body. Now taking notice in how he’s fully clothed compared to her being completely bare on the bed. He smirks and brings his slick-cum covered fingers to her lips. leaning over her expectantly and pleased when she takes his fingers into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his while she sucks her cum off of his fingers.

“I hope you recover quick, baby. because i’m going to fuck you until your sweet little voice is gone.”

#Wrote this in 3 minutes idk #sturniolo triplets smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #christopher sturniolo

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Your husband John Price (Scenario)

Here's to all of the Price lovers out there, Gaz version will be out soon :3

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

Thinking about what John Price would be as your husband;

Your husband John Price who shows his care through a protective manner most of the time. He's the type of man to place a hand on a sharp corner of the table or countertop so that you wouldn't hit your head when you get back up from picking something up from underneath it. Same goes for you getting into cars. He'd open doors for you and place a hand over your head so you don't hit it whenever you'd get into a vehicle.

Your husband John Price who is so domestic and loves classic romantic things like cooking breakfast for each other or making each other coffee, moving around the furniture in the living room so he could have more space to dance and sing with you while playing some old love song. (AHEM "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis or Haley Reinhart)

Your husband John Price whose love language is definitely acts of service, you name it, he's doing it. All the gnarly tasks around your home, he'd do for you.

Your husband John Price who is a sucker for forehead kisses, doesn't matter who gives and receives. Something about them is just so romantic and domestic, he's always first to initiate because him giving you those kisses mean more to him than just proving to you he loves you. When he kisses you, he means it, you are under his protection and his care, he wants you to know that he can provide for you.

Your husband John Price who wants nothing more than to be home with you, you in his arms, he couldn't possibly ask for anything more or think of anything that could be better.

Your husband John Price who has a breeding kink is very much fond of the idea of hearing the pitter-patter and thumping of his children's feet on the house floors, their little voices filling your home with much more love than ever. Those same little children with their currently high pitched voices, asking his approval on everything.

"Dad, look!"

"It looks great sweetheart, go show your momma and see what she thinks"

*Cue your little one almost stumbling on their own feet because they were so excited to show you something*

Your husband John Price who was very much against the idea of getting pets but now the thing love him more than you even if you were the one who got it in the first place. You'd find them both coddled and napping on the couch and sneakily take pictures.

Your husband John Price who is absolutely addicted to the way you sound and tone of voice when you call out his name. Unless when he's in trouble, you break out the full name shit in such a condescending tone too. If it's the just the way you normally say it then it takes him a little time to process it because how could he not be absentminded when you say his voice in such a sweet way.

"John.."

"..."

"John Pri-"

"Yes love..?"

Your husband John Price who slowly notices himself gain weight throughout your relationship with him, even more so when you two got married yet he took it seemed that he liked it that way and you loved seeing him with a dad bod.

Simon Ghost Riley Version :3

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #john price x reader #price x reader #captain price x reader #captain price x female reader #captain price x you #john price x you #john price x y/n #price x you #john price #cod scenarios #cod headcanons #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod mwf2 #Spotify

[nishiyako]

Intoxicated (NSFW)

Paring : Incel!Shigaraki x Drunk!Reader

Tags : Drunk sex, Blow Jobs, Hand jobs, Thigh Riding, Riding, Vaginal Penetration, Unprotected sex, Creampie, slight voyeurisim (Dabi), Pervy Shiggy, Name calling (Whore & Angel), Gaming sesh, Pre-PLF coded shiggy (Idk, I just like him that way), Happy Ending <33

Summary : The pent-up sexual frustration was building up while drinking with your colleagues, so you took a half empty bottle and went to the one guy you hoped wouldn't say no, Tomura Shigaraki.

Tomura was the type to stay in his room in the base, doing whatever incels liked to do.

When you'd pass his door, you'd hear the clacking of a keyboard accompanied by various sound effects from video games. Just like tonight, you passed by his room while you heard just that.

You knocked on his door before waiting afew seconds, you pried the door open to see his back turned from you and eyes fixated on his monitors like always.

"Hey boss, y'gonna join us?" You asked, holding the alcohol bottles for him to see. His head only turned enough to see you in the corner of his eye, red crimson eyes seeing the bottles only to look back to the screen.

He wasn't wearing any headphones, so he was obviously ignoring you as a 'no'. You rolled your eyes before heading out of his room, closing the door in front of you.

You sat with the rest of the league. "Where's sigaraki?" Spinner asked when he saw you."He doesn't wanna join, too busy with his game or somethin' " You sighed before sitting down.

It didn't matter to them that he didn't join, but that was to them. You were at least hoping to get close to him yourself.

You'd catch him talking to Spinner about their games or Twice and Toga bothering him while you watched their antics. He avoided conversation when it wasn't needed, but he avoided you constantly. Giving you a quick answer or two if needed, then storming off.

To you, he was mysterious and attractive in a questionable way.

But to him, you were like a drug, something to stay away from. More like an innocent angel, something he shouldn't ruin with his incel bullshit.

The countless times he'd have to run back to his room with his tail in-between his legs and a painfuly hard cock all because you wore shorts that day.

You were adorable and hot. It was so unfair having someone like you on the team right there yet so out of his grasp.

He wouldn't call you a "crush" just a fuckable inconvenience.

So like that the night continued, most of them talking to eachother drunkenly telling their stories with the enthusiasm of a child, yet you we're still getting tired of them, no wonder Shigaraki always hid in that room of his.

You were drunk, the noise of your other drunk colleagues made it worse.

The worst thing was that you were horny. You hoped tonight would fainally be used to get rid of all your pent-up frustrations from the busy month, but once you got the invitation to drink, you couldn't say no.

You considered Dabi. His scars were hot, but he was too much for you. Toga? She's cute, but there's no way you could handle her. Spinner was on another dimension at this point, and Compress already called it a night and retreated to his room.

So you took a half empty bottle and went to the one guy you hoped wouldn't say no, Tomura Shigaraki.

You stood in front of the door, not hearing the clacking keys anymore but some streamer playing in the background. You didn't know which, and you didn't care.

You knocked a few times, waiting a few seconds and entering.

He noticed you enter, of course he didn't pay any mind to you, eyes still on the screen.

You stumbled to him, placing the alcohol bottle on his table, "I told you I'm not drinking." He stated, the rasp in his voice sent shivers down your spine, yet it was so addictive. turning his squeaky gamer chair to face you.

You didn't even bother to give him a response, getting on your knees with your face in between his legs, already working on the tie on his sweatpants.

"What are you!-" You hushed him, pulling down his boxers and licking the limp shaft until it got hard. you didn't know what excited you more, the fact it doubled its size, or you couldn't even close your fist around it.

You swirled your tounge in circles around the red swollen tip, giving it the occasional kiss to tease.

The door was still slightly pryed open, open enough if someone walked past in front of the door they could see you seducing the boss so drunk on Hennessy you couldn't even think.

The streamer still talking away to their chat, not knowing one of their viewers were about to get sucked off during the stream.

"Hey whore! Cut it out, you're drunk." He called your attention hoping to snap some sense into you, you were unknowingly about to give Tomura his first blowjob.

"So?" You said in a loving tone, a small giggle slipping through your lips as you lowered your head.

"It's Tomura." He said, reminding you like you mistook him for someone else, "I know." You looked up at him, your hooded eyes staring into his, admiring every feature.

The beauty mark near his lips, his deep red eyes, and the fluffy hair almost curtained over his eyes. You never really realized how cute he was out of his uniform.

Tomura swolled anxiously. If this was his fate, then so be it.

Your mouth engulfed him, tounge licking every inch of skin and sensitive gland on his cock, it would occasionally twitch on your moving sloppy tounge.

His left hand clicked the space bar, pausing whatever he was watching as his attention was now greedly stolen by you.

His right hand was placed on your head, mindful of his pinky. Petting your soft hair as your head bobbed up and down.

His raspy moans and groans polluting the room as a bit of the noise slipped through the open door, the praises of "fuck yeah." Slipping through his wounded lips, and his slightly fucked out expression lit up by the monitor.

He watched your cheeks hollow and plump lips move on his girth, tounge teasing every vein you knew was sensitive and your hand stroking whatever you couldn't handle, he was scared he was gonna wake up if he moved too much.

His abdomen tensed from the pleasure, eyes closing shut yet desperate to watch you, struggling to catch his breath in between his moans.

His mind went black, only hoping that he did join you guys for drinks. Maybe he'd find out why out of all the annoyingly hot people on the team, you chose him.

You slipped him out of your mouth, wiping the spit off your chin as you got back on your feet.

His crimson eyes met yours, confused before you straddled him in his chair, sitting over him as you removed your pajama pants, making them puddle on the cold floor.

His mind was racing, miltipule thoughts suriging a storm in his mind but he saw the one thing that could possibly make it stop and not ruin the sight, he took the bottle off the table taking a few swigs before looking back at you.

You seated on his clothed thigh, frilly pink panties against the boring Grey sweatpants he'd sport every day.

Pink fabric already stained with your lust as you grinded against his clothed thigh for friction you only dreamed of.

His finger was under your chin, forcing you to look at him. With your pleading hooded eyes and quivering lips, not to mention the adorable flushed cheeks from the achohol.

All you wanted to do was rub your needy sex against the muscle of his thigh as your hands explored the body under his black hoodie.

His sadistic eyes looked down on you when he'd occasionally jolted his leg up to make your squirm and shiver.

You heard footsteps grow closer, walking more like drunkenly stumbling to the door.

Averting your eyes was a mistake, only to be told off with a demanding "mm-m, eyes on me." From Tomura.

Of course, you complied, even stroking him during it.

The contrast of feeling your soft hands around his length was so much better than his calloused hand he used.

Shuddering breaths inches away from your lips as your hips rocked back and forth, knowing the eyes on you, yet you couldn't see who they belonged to.

Compress is asleep, Spinner? No, he wouldn't stay that long, Toga? Probably would walk away just hearing the sounds. So it was Dabi, that creep.

Even though the embarrassment was painful, it still felt good to know someone's watching you have the privilege to grind on the boss so earnestly.

Stroking his cock as his hands were busy holding your face up so he could examine you and holding the shared alcohol bottle in his other hand.

Tomura let go of your chin, giving you the opportunity to look while he guided your legs to straddle him.

And your guess was correct, you and Dabi were looking at each other as he leaned against the doorframe, giving you a condescending grin as he watched you fall apart on the boss's deadly touch.

You looked back at shigaraki, he was well aware of the captive audience watching the both of you be he didn't care as usual, he didn't care who you'd fuck after this, aslong as he got to right now.

He guided your hips to lower onto him, slowly sinking down on him.

he held you by your hips supporting your movements, controlling your pace as you grinded with him inside, you moand into his ear only to get him harder, twitching against your gummy walls.

It didn't take long before he made you start bouncing, he looked at you so enfacueted, you looked so perfect to him, hair a mess and so intoxicated on his cock, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pleaded for his kisses.

Dabi watched the scene, feeling his cock strain against the fabric of his clothes, watching your adorable expressions while you fucked someone with that kind of power.

It was annoyingly hot.

He could watch all he wanted, but he knew once Tomura was done with you, you were forever off limits.

He closed the door infront of him, giving you both some privacy before leaving to his room, probably just gonna stroke himself to that mental image of you fucking him instead.

Tomura took his fainal drink, placing the empty bottle on his table. Sure, it tasted bad, but at least he was feeling even better now.

His hands fainally explored your body, tracing your curves and stomach before finding their place on your waist, thumbs rubbing against the skin over your ribcage.

Your foreheads pressed together, moaning against his lips as he watched how your warm body moved, tempered by the alcohol it only made everything better and a bit sloppy.

Your insides coating his cock in a white opaque liquid from all your pent up frustrations, all those nights you couldn't get off from the busy schedule.

Your legs tensed, feeling him hit your sweet spot over and over again, so painfully good it had you seeing stars every time you rutted against him.

The sudden ego boost getting to his head watching you writhe on his cock, your hands pawing at his soft hair, giving the occasional tug.

Your back arched, his face buried in the crook of your neck, working on a few love bites and hickies to discover in the morning.

He was bigger than expected or you were just more pent up than you knew, regardless of who needed this more you knew this wouldn't be the last.

Your bounces became faster, more needy for the feeling of his tip hitting your gushing cervix, the smug smirk you saw on his face, and the ghostly touches on you skin.

Your movements were animalistic, yet something about his static nature claimed you, watching you get off drunkenly using him.

You were zealous on the pleasure, now pawing at his hoodie, tugging as a sign of your limits before he clicked his tongue stealing your attention.

"Just a bit longer, angel." His raspy voice saying sweet things, maybe it was the alcohol but that meant a lot to you.

He knew you weren't as innocent as you looked, coming into his room to suck and ride him, yet something about you was angelic.

Not to mention the look of bliss you had on your face at that name, 'angel, angel.' His voice ricochet around your head.

"I don't think I can, boss." You managed to slip through your moans, so adorable that you're still calling him that.

"It was an order." His voice low, almost like a growl. His lips met the skin of your jaw, and you tried your best to hold on, savoring the sensations.

Your shakey legs and breaths were so painfuly obvious to him that he had to watch you like this for even a bit longer.

He hasn't felt touch in a while, and now suddenly being flooded with such intimate contact made him berserk.

With one pull on your waist, he thrusted into you, releasing all his pent-up seed inside you, flooding and painting your gummy walls with his warm fluids.

The knot in your stomach shaped with his forceful actions, making you squirm on his lap and grip on his clothing while letting out the most erotic moan he's ever heard.

Far better than whatever porn he used to watch.

•••

You woke up with a pulsing headache, eyes opening to see the familiar room and Shigaraki on his computer set up that was right beside his bed.

He sat there peacefully, headphones in so you wouldn't wake up from the various video game sound effects he'd usually blast.

An empty Hennessy bottle on his desk and your pajama pants nicely folded at the feet of the bed, you sat up, gaining Tomuras attention.

He looked at you, acknowledging your presence for what felt for the first time.

He braced himself for the names you'd call him 'creep, pervert, peice of shit' he was ready for anything except when you stayed quiet, rubbing your eyes adjusting to the harsh light of the monitor.

You didn't care that you were half naked in his bed, just caring about where breakfast is.

"Hey, wanna get pizza?" You said casually, your voice still a bit groggy.

Tomura removed one side of his headphones, "seriously? That's all you're gonna ask." He said in his usual dead tone, his raspy voice with a croak as you guessed he woke up only a few minutes ago.

Unlike last night, he was playing a single player game so now he had the privilege to pause so he could actually listen to you.

His headphones dangled around his neck, turning his chair to face you.

He saw you already on your phone, looking through the pizza shops website for new deals.

"Are you ignoring me?" He asked, his voice turning gruff. He could ignore everyone if he wanted to, but he couldn't stand being ignored.

"No." You said clacking away at your phone screen. "I asked you a question, and you didn't answer properly. You're actually ignoring me." You teased.

"Now what do you want." You said placing the phone to your ear, "Anythings fine." He muttered as you spoke to the employee on the other side of the phone.

•••

You sat on the floor of his bedroom, eating slice after slice while he ate beside you having your first conversation together when he suddenly asked a question.

"Do you remember last night?" He asked before swallowing down the food he was eating, "Last night? A couple of things, why?" You asked back, hoping you didn't have anything important you had to do that night.

"Well, we fucked last night. Don't know if you remembered that." He said, a pink hue forming on his cheeks from the embarrassment of having to remind you.

"Yeah, I remember." You said grabbing another slice like it wasn't anything important.

He was honestly stunned how comfortable you were like this, sitting with him on the floor eating pizza while you only wore your panties and top. You were practically strangers last night.

"I'm the one who initiated it dumbass, of course I remember." You said,"Not everything, but I know it was good." You confessed.

It was like a weird dream, remembering fragments of the night every few minutes.

"So, why?" He asked, almost concerned in his sentence. "I was horny, You were cute. You connect the dots." You said with a giggle in your sentence.

"Right.." he said, he never had anyone call him that.

Minutes pass, hours, actually. Yet you willingly stayed in his room listening to him rant about his games, and he'd listen to you rant about your interests.

When night feel you decided to head out, you both spent the whole day talking you lost track of time, Shigaraki watched you walk away opening the door before he spoke.

"Hey," he called out, you looked behind you to see him pulling out a set of controllers for the both of you.

He mentioned he had a few controller friendly games on his PC a few hours ago.

"About those games.." he cut his sentence, trying to find the words until he noticed you shut the door and walked towards him.

He was never the best with words, but you understood him and the awkward language he spoke.

You sat in between his legs, grabbing one of the controllers from his hands.

He memorized every button on the controller already, so he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you seated as his chin rested above your head.

He'd talk to you later about getting a separate chair if this would be a usual occurrence, but right now, it was just you and him with the controllers and monitor.

Finally, replacing your noisy teammates with the peace you found in each other.

A/N : I'm alive!! Sorry I haven't posted, I got my first case of REALLY BAD writers block, but now I got back into my element!

(Solution to Writters block : Get zonked 🍃)

To all of those who sent asks, I SWEAR I DO ALL ASKS JUS GIVE ME SOME TIME <33 :sob:

#mha smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #incel shigaraki #shigaraki smut #tomura shigiraki x reader

[cheriiyaya]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crap, he was staring.

The suddeness of the realization whiplashed dazai and he pried his eyes away from you. He fumbled with his pen, twirling it around his bandaged fingers once, then twice before setting it down with a sigh. Untouched paperword was strewn about his desk and dazai didn't want to work on it.

He'd rather spend his hours staring at you as you worked, even if it meant getting yelled at by kunikida. His coworker hadn't figured out how dazai had fell hard for you, and dazai'd like to keep it that way.

He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, glancing your way but not turning his head even if it strained his eyes to look at you like that, but it didn't matter to him.

Even a glimpse of you was enough for him.

He watched in pure awe and adoration for you as you did simple, mundane things; leaning back in your chair and staring at the ceiling for a second. The slight crinkle in your nose and the way your brows knitted together, it made him want to walk over there beside you and kiss the wrinkled tension off your pretty face.

The thought of doing that made dazai's heart flutter in his chest.

With a sigh, he laid face-down on his desk with a groan, running his fingers through messy, knotted brown waves.

Why does he have to be stupidly infatuated with you? He drummed his fingers on the hardwood of his desk, sighing and pulling his head up.

He got up from his chair, nearly tipping his chair over and scaring poor atsushi. The boy stammered something to dazai- probably about where was he going- but dazai hadn't heard. He took in a glimpse of you before walking out the agency.

You hadn't even noticed him leave.

Dazai made his way down to the cafe under the agency, not even sparing a glance at the waitress he'd normally flirt with as he walked out of the door.

He needed out. He needed to get away from you and his feelings for you. He needed to go anywhere but near you-

Even if his heart drew him to you.

Walking down the street, dazai tried to think of anything but you.

Oh, that bird is building a nest. Oh, there's a flower growing in the fissures of the street.

Just like you grew a place in the cracks of his heart.

He stopped, someone bumped into his shoulder and quickly apologised before hurrying away.

He's thinking of you again.

A pause, then Dazai continued his walk back to the agency dorms. This time, he's allowing you to flood his mind and haunt his every thought as you had done to his wretched, blacked heart.

He loves you.

To dazai, the mere thought of you is more addictive than the cheap sake he delights in every night, the cheap canned crab he enjoys so much. It makes his heart race more than the rush of adrenaline during a near-death experience; the kind that screams he's alive and he's lived, even if he doesn't believe it.

Dazai may be an intelligent man, but when it came to you he was nothing more than the foolish boy he never got to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: wrote this at 10 pm on a crappy ass phone and I have school tomorrow so I'll add a header and shit tmmrw jpxhpxhlxpgxllg im so tiredddddd and still sick wah

Edit: OH YEAH THANK YOU GUYS FOR 26 FOLLOWERS :DDD

Edit 2: oh yeah for those who want it part two is up!

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!

©Cheriiyaya 2023

#bungou stray dogs #bungou sd #bsd dazai #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝕽𝖊𝖉'𝖘 𝕽𝖚𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾

[ph4ngz]

“Suck me off like your future education depends on it. Oh, wait. It fucking does.”

Al-haitham gives a rough shift forward of his pelvis so that his heavy, twitching cock can plunge even deeper into your mouth. So bad, he wants to hit the back of your throat so bad. Archons, he thrives for this exact sensation EVERY moment of the dayyyyyy.

This view… your delectable expression. Plump, quivering lips glistening with saliva and doing their absolute best just to keep their place tight around his length even though you’re on the brink of gagging. Anxious, wide eyes clamping shut every so often to rid of the glassy layer of pesky tears blurring your sight. Knees visibly red and sore, digging into the hard floor each time you lift yourself up to chase after his dick and catch it in your mouth, shamelessly eager to revel in the flavour of him like it’s your last chance. So fucking dirty and… just downright iconic. Nobody can do it for him like you can.

Your scalp pulses with an addictive sting supplied by the scribe’s fist tangled and controlling in your hair. How he repeatedly yanks your head back and forth in time with his vigorous thrusts has your cunt clenching on nothing, sending arousal to come practically gushing from your hole, swollen clit feeling cruelly neglected and longing for the slightest hint of stimulation.

“Mmph… g-grrnm—!” you panic when a particularly forceful rock of the scribe’s hips causes you to tense up and fight for breath.

“Th—at’s right sweetheart, ha-ve-ve a gooood taste.” Al-haitham drawls and stutters an undeniably thirsty low-toned taunt, gazing down at your sweet, vulnerable little self all weak and bruising knelt on the ground below him. The prominent veins decorating his cock create shallow ridges that hardly catch against your tongue, and you would seize the opportunity to swirl around them, but it’s rather difficult with such a surprisingly heavy weight blocking the back of your throat. Fresh streams of tears begin to break out over your waterlines, and fucking hell is he ready to cum all over you. But not yet, no, he tells himself and gasps a large breath when the warning of an orgasm creates a maddening tension in his abdomen, you’re not deserving of that just yet.

At last, the brutal scribe’s actions come to a temporary standstill and he pries your mouth from him, not without a lewd, sticky pop and a cooling thread of saliva connecting the two of you. You can breathe. Speak, even. With a shaky hand, you quickly brush away any loose hairs obscuring your vision and attempt to softly thread a few into Al-haitham’s thick fingers so he’d secure them back for you whilst you teasingly trace messy lines up and down his bobbing length.

“I’m sorry, mister scribe, am I too good for you to handle?” you ask cutely, eyes disguised with innocence although your constricting grasp around the base of his aching dick betrays your visage de façade. Bending over and tugging your locks to tilt your head back, he directs a desirous, mean glare down past the bridge of his nose straight into your deceitful, sparkling eyes. His other large hand occupies itself by pinching your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger, stretching your face as if you’re just some dumb kid to him.

“Shut up.” the harsh scribe orders you, an aura of lust and dominance practically radiating from underneath his clothes. You swear you can feel it, too, due to his tall, lean and muscular frame looming over you so intimidatingly close. Al-haitham’s aquamarine irises seem to darken right in front of you, an illusion portrayed by his control over you. His power could be seen as figurative chains he keeps you bound to him by. Do as you’re told or face the higher-ups, he’d threatened you with a deal you couldn’t refuse after you’d gotten him dangerously close to expulsion by nabbing a folder comprised of detailed information regarding you.

Suddenly, the embarrassing touch on your cheek disappears only to land a firm, swift slap there instead. His hand was a mere few inches away from the area it smacked, so why— how does it hurt this much? A meek and wobbly moan still escapes the confines of your sore, sensitive throat no matter how hard you push it down to start with. You’d best shut up.

“Dirty, dirty little thief.” he chastises, voice deep and seductive through gritted teeth as you pump his pink-tipped cock in hopes that he’ll forget about your pathetic excuse for a “one-up”. Al-haitham mindlessly toys with your pouting lower lip, then by using a smidge more pressure to force your jaw open he glides his fingers over your bottom front teeth, a devilish smirk playing upon his mouth whilst he engraves the ticklish sensation of the toughened skin grazing along every serrated edge into his brain. Before you can clamp down and bite, the scribe removes your touch by the wrist to hurriedly line himself up and help himself to your mouth once more, without notice. His sharp, quiet inhale releases as a hot, sinfully pleased exhale that leaves your own hips wriggling aimlessly.

He watches you squirm helplessly as he holds your forehead to the sexy trail of short hairs leading from his navel to the long, hard dick he’s so generously stuffing your proud mouth full with. You’re barely trying to pull away, staying still until the natural recoil of your body prevents you from passing out. The faint, salty taste of his pre-cum along with his alluring and delicious scent combined and rendering you more intoxicated, cock drunk, by the second. Both addictive as fuck, so much so that your body begins to slump diagonally into Al-haitham’s legs as soon as the pressure on your head relinquishes, a jelly-like arm coiling around his thigh to stay as close as possible whilst your lips glide over his length when it slips out.

“I, I loooove seeing you choke…” the scribe, watching his slick jolting cock thwack against his lower stomach, confesses in a slur just in case you hadn’t gathered. He’s evidently high on the exhilarating pleasure, possibly much more than you are. “I bet you wish, fuck,” he pauses, sex-dazed yet tense with the consistent tightening of his balls, “you’d never have attempted to swipe those documents fr— from under my nose.”

/-/-/-/

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #al haitham #genshin imagines #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin x reader smut #genshin x reader #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham smut

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ A sweet surprise

꒰ ͜͡➸ Shuji decides to give himself to you on your birthday, fulfilling one of your fantasies - waking you up with his head between your thighs

❖ Character: Hanma

❖ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 1731

❖ WARNINGS: no dynamic, somnophilia, oral (reader receiving), fingering, creampies, cum eating (Shuji his own), aftercare, set on readers birthday, biting (one time)

❖ A/n: Happy Birthday Ari my love! @jousk4s 🫶

Shuji never cared for many people in his life - he simply never had to. His small circle of friends was more than enough to keep him satisfied, never overwhelmed and then he met you. Ever since you came into his life, he started caring a lot about everything, wanting to be by your side at all times because your presence brought him so much simple joy. Your banter back and forth or the way you never take his shit was something so addicting to him, it felt like you were his new favorite drug and he wasn't planning on ever stopping you. So when you were sleeping soundly on your birthday morning, Shuji started to get impatient. Your naked body was curled into his, soft breaths came out of your mouth when your hand held onto his tattooed one.

Perhaps he could stay like this for the rest of the day, not minding much to just laze around, but the way you started pressing your body into him started to affect him. “Babe, wake up,” he mumbled softly and started to kiss your exposed shoulder ever so gently, but no reaction came from you. Only minutes later, the globes of your ass rubbed against his hardened length again and a low moan escaped his lips. He needed you wrapped around his cock, but he didn't want to interrupt your much-deserved sleep, especially not on your special day. Or could he? Could he use your body for his own pleasure? Unconsciously, his hips started rutting against your ass while he was thinking about the time you told him about that little fantasy of yours, which neither of you have explored yet - perhaps today would be the perfect opportunity.

Ever so gently, Hanma peeled back the covers from your still-sleeping body to position you on your back, only stopping when you stirred. Once you settled back into your slumber, he smiled to himself and pried your legs apart, revealing your little cunt to him. He truly thought that he's the luckiest man alive at that moment, having such a beautiful partner. His eyes couldn't get enough of you, feasting on the sight of your perfect tits and your nipples slowly perked up from the cool room temperature, but his gaze dropped lower. When his eyes settled on your core, he almost drooled as he leaned closer between your thighs. The view was breathtaking to him - your pussy on full display for him and when he parted your folds with the utmost care, your little hole clenched around nothing.

Just as your cunt clenched, a small amount of his cum leaked out, a reminder of the night shared and the fact that you let him fill you up to the brim with his cum each and every time. The sight caused goosebumps to rise on Hanmas skin before instinctively leaning in and letting his tongue glide through your cum-glazed folds. A soft moan escaped him at the taste of your combined juices melting on the tip of his tongue, as well as the fact that you weren't even aware of what was happening between your thighs.

Gauging your reaction as he looked up, he found you still fast asleep and smirked to himself, knowing you always fantasized about this, wanting to be woken up with pleasure and you gave your full permission if Shuji ever wanted to do that. Nestling his body between your spread legs, he gently spread your folds anew before his tongue darted out, but he stopped right before it made contact with your bundle of nerves. A little bead of saliva dribbled off his tongue and onto your clit, the fluid slowly running down to your entrance where his tongue eagerly caught it again to lick all the way back up to your clit. Once his tongue swirled around your clit once - twice, he sucked the little pearl between his lips, and your thighs started to tremble.

Small pants were coming from your still-sleeping body as you started to squirm from his never-ending onslaught on your little cunt. Shuji spelled his name out on your clit with his tongue, gently sucking on the nub after every word before licking up the fresh arousal leaking out of your entrance, where he dipped his tongue in, just to spell his name on your clit right after again. Hanma slowly sat up in a kneeling position, his tongue never leaving your cunt, but he couldn't restrain himself any further from getting some friction. For a split moment, he stopped his assault on your pussy to spit a mix of saliva and your arousal into his hand before stroking his own cock at a slow pace while his tongue resumed the mix of licking and flicking over your bundle of nerves.

Shuji got so turned on by your body's raw reactions to his touch that he barely registered how close you were until he slipped two fingers into your weeping cunt. A single groan erupted from his lips against your folds when you immediately squeezed his digits so tightly and his eyes rolled back. He removed his hand from his own dick to edge himself since he wanted to give you another creampie after feasting on your pussy. Long fingers pumped into you at a slow pace, but each curl went directly against your sweet spot and before you knew it, your body stirred awake. Confusion set in when you felt a tight knot in your stomach, but just as you wanted to speak up, the wave of arousal crashed into you and threw you head first into such an intense orgasm that your ears were ringing. “Shuji~” you moaned out desperately, wanting to ask what's going on, but your orgasm made you moan his name before it rendered you into a moaning mess.

Once you rode out your high, Shuji's head leaned against your thighs as his fingers remained inside of you, unmoving. “Good morning, my sweet and happy birthday,” he cooed before pressing a single kiss to your clit that made you shudder from how sensitive you were after this orgasm. The heat slowly creeped up to your face when you realized that he just ate you out for god knows how long while you were sleeping and it only made you clench around his fingers. Hanma smirked when he felt you clench. “My dirty little bunny,” he chuckled when he realized just how turned on you were by the fact that he pleasured you in your sleep, but it made his cock twitch against his stomach, still kneeling between your thighs. “I’m not done with you yet. Need to make sure you're full of me again,” he mused and moved to hover over you, guiding his tip to your entrance but waiting for your consent. "Mhh, please,” you whined and bucked your wet cunt into him, not needing to say it twice. In one fluid thrust, Shuji pushed himself into your cunt and both of you moaned in unison. Neither of you could ever get enough of the feeling when he first slips inside, but he couldn't wait any longer before rapidly fucking into you. “Tasted so good, darling,” he grunted and moved one leg onto his shoulder while his thrusts never ceased. “You were so good for me... kept my cum inside all night,” he mumbled before biting your leg gently right above the ankle, his breath slowly growing heavy as he got close. It didn't take long for him to be on the verge of spilling himself inside of you again, given that he edged himself over and over again, but he held himself off until your walls started to flutter around him.

“Gonna be my good little sweet and keep it in all day, yeah? It's my gift for you,” Shuji growled and one of his hands moved to toy with your little clit once again. You were a moaning mess beneath him, his words only adding fuel to the fire, but when his thumb pressed against your clit in tandem with his tip hitting your sweet spot, you saw stars. All you could do was mewl and nod for him as your walls clamped down on him once again, your second orgasm washing over you even more intensely than the one right after you woke up.

His name fell off your lips in such a sinful way that he couldn't help but bury himself deeper and his thrusts became sloppy when his cum painted your walls white. Shuji clung onto your leg that was thrown over his shoulder as his balls twitched, cum still spurting and both your heavy pants filled the room. A small chuckle of his broke the silence when he gently lowered your leg to lean down over your body. “I fucking love you, you know that?” He asked with a grin plastered on his face before his lips connected with yours in a passionate kiss that conveyed his feelings. Only when he pulled away did you beam up at him, “Perhaps I think you're acceptable. I tolerate you,” you said teasingly, but a giggle bubbled from your lips. “I love you too, Shu,” you said sincerely and brought him down by the back of his neck to peck his lips just as he slipped out of you, making you whine against him.

“We need to get you cleaned up, guests are gonna be here soon,” he mused, effortlessly lifting you from the bed to carry you to the bathroom, where he sat you down at the corner of the bathtub while he drew a bath for you. From the corner of his eye, he saw the way you were still eyeing his now half-limp cock and he rolled his eyes. “You're so insatiable,” he teased and you huffed out a breath, acting offended. “But it's your birthday. Perhaps I can make sure you're enjoying your bath a little more than usual,” he promised with a wink and lifted you inside before he climbed in behind you. “But for now, let me just hold you for a moment, eh?” Shuji’s voice was raw when he pulled you against his chest, his tattooed hands running over your skin as he held you close. “Happy birthday, my sweet,” he whispered into your hair once again before pressing a small kiss to the back of your head.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

#Rhy sins ♡ #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #hanma x reader #hanma smut #hanma x you #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji smut #tr x reader #tr smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut

[sunflowersteves]

isn't she pretty? || e.m. & s.h.

part two to this blurb; what if everyone was spending spring break at steve's holiday home and eddie and steve bond over how pretty you are.

this is for @indouloureux bc she gave me the idea for a part two and ily

warnings || fluff, smut, threesome, fem!reader, praise kink, oral sex, little degradation, mean!dom!eddie, shy!sub!steve, sub!reader, [18+ only], use of y/n once

“You wanna play with us, Stevie? I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

Eddie's low voice crackled beneath the pillows of his lips, and it sent shivers down your and Steve’s spine. He was smirking—cocky and devious—as his rough, calloused fingers pressed harder against your sensitive clit.

A strangled sound burst through Steve’s throat at your hips involuntarily bucking into Eddie’s hand. Steve can’t help but stare at your shimmering body and the shuddering breaths that escape your lips. 

His eyes then fall over toward Eddie. His long, curly hair tickles his cheeks, and a smirk cascades fully against his lips. His thumb is circling your clit, which is slick and wet from the multiple orgasms that Eddie pulled from you. 

Steve can see it, too, the white, thick cum leaking from your walls and down to your other hole. His cock hardens at the pure incredibly dirty sight.

It’s addicting. It’s erotic. 

“Aw, Stevie, are you nervous?” Eddie feigns concern for the preppy brunette that takes a small step forward. Eddie seems almost calm, Steve observes. His hand lazily moves while you’re melting into a puddle. 

Steve could only nod as his adam's apple bobs. Another sultry moan releases from you, which causes Steve to gaze at you once more. 

Eddie chuckles and takes out his other hand in Steve’s direction. “Why don’t I show you, hmm?” 

He swallows. Was he really about to do this? There’s a part of him that didn’t care—the tent that popped up from his sweatpants was evidence of it all, but there was another part that cared deeply. 

You both were his friends; who were together. Sure, Steve has thought about you and Eddie. He has thought about holding your hands—linked together as one. He has thought about taking you while Eddie takes him or maybe the two of them taking you. He has thought it all. 

Before Steve could really decide, Eddie’s patience wavers. “C’mon, Harrington. I told her she couldn’t cum unless you helped her.”

The plea for Steve that left your lips made his head feel dizzy. Never in a million years did he think he would be this lucky. 

He ever so slowly gets on the bed where you’re spread out for the two men in front of you. Eddie moves his hand from your core—prompting much begging and whining from you. Eddie’s lips fold into a frown, though.

He harshly slaps your clit, and the sudden harsh pleasure makes you yelp. “Fucking greedy, aren’t you, sweetheart? Now, sit still.” He pries open your legs as wide as he could. “Now.”

Your elicit whimpers halted to a stop. If you made one movement or one sound, Eddie wouldn't let you cum. “Go ahead, Stevie, give her a taste.”

Steve follows his orders and leans down to your sopping cunt. He breathes in for a moment—relishing in the musk smell of your mixed ecstasies. He flicks his tongue from his lips and draws right on top of your clit. 

He hums from the taste, tangy and metallic that erupts through his taste buds. Your head leans back on the silky pillows, gasping for air.

“Steve!”

“How’s she taste, big boy?” Eddie doesn’t expect a response, though, not when Steve starts to lap up and down your folds. He sucks harshly on your clit again, and Eddie has to move over to hold your thighs down. “Stay fucking still.”

Oh, how you try, but it’s hard. It’s so difficult when Steve’s foreign tongue reaches into your folds, and his lips kiss your mound. You mewl into him, hands finding his fluffy hair. 

“Oh, she likes that, Harrington. Look at her.” His eyes flicker up to look at you—fucked out hazy eyes and whimpers leaving your lips. Fuck. You looked ethereal, coming undone with him and Eddie by your side. 

“You wanna ruin her, Stevie? Want her to cum on your mouth?” He nods over at Eddie—never wanting to stop. He’s drunk, completely pussy drunk, and he’s not sure he can stop.

A part of him reminds him that you’re Eddie’s, but by the look of Eddie’s puffy tip and strangled moan as he wraps his hand around his own cock—his hands holding your thighs in place were long gone—he’s not too sure anymore. 

Maybe you were both theirs.

Steve’s hips bucked into the mattress from the mere thought. 

“Eddie, please, I-I need—” Steve grips your thighs, hands splayed across your soft skin. 

He smirks, his hand moving slowly up and down his shaft. “Need what, sweetheart?” 

You don’t speak. You can’t. Not when Steve rapidly flicks his tongue against your clit, and the rippled sensation of his moans creates friction.

“P-Please, Eddie—”

He almost chuckled. “Nuh-uh, baby, you need to ask. You know the rules.”

He grips his cock harder as Steve’s hips buck into the mattress again. The pretty boy was just as desperate as you were. It was heaven. 

“I need to cum! I need to cum, Eddie. P-Please, let me cum.” Your eyes followed his every movement in hopes that even with a flick of his wrist, he would let you. However, nothing follows. He sits there with his hand on his cock and a smirk.

That goddamn delicious smirk.

“Oh, am I too mean, pretty baby? Okay, okay, you can cum. Cum all over Steve’s mouth.”

Steve grips your thighs in anticipation, and you let go. The tight coil explodes almost immediately from the word, ‘cum,’ and you gush over Steve’s face. Your hands grip his hair, and you scream the names of the two men in front of you—over and over again. Like a prayer.

“That’s my good girl, f-fuck, yes, did so good for us–” 

Us.

Not just for Eddie, but for Steve too. 

"Did so fuckin' well for me. Both of you."

Eddie yanked Steve by his hair off of your now very sensitive core and kissed Steve so passionately that his brain turned to fuzz. He let go, prompting a whimper from both you and Steve.

“You are going to sit on my face,” Eddie turns toward Steve, trailing a hand down his yellow sweater, “And you are going to suck on my cock, got it?”

“Yes, Eddie.” Steve barely says above a whisper, but you both still catch it. You let out a shaky breath, thighs pressing together. 

“Well? What are you both waiting for, hmm?”

~~

“Are they all still going at it?”

Robin crans her neck closer toward the stairs. “Yup. It’s been like,” she looks down at her watch, "four hours.”

After Robin and Nancy got back from their walk, they expected a blushing Steve to sit straight on the couch and act like you and Eddie having sex did nothing for him. To Nancy and Robin’s surprise, he was nowhere to be found downstairs. 

Nancy shrugs, “At least they’ve finally all admitted they like each other.”

Robin snorts, “thank god. I was getting so tired of Steve’s endless rants about how pretty Eddie and y/n are.” 

Nancy looked at the lone non-touched water bottles that sat on the coffee table. She turns to Robin, “Should we?”

Their eyes flicker toward one another, and Robin sighs, “Probably. I doubt they’ve had a break. They all have way too many pent-up feelings.”

They grab three water bottles and trudge up the stairs. “Steve! Eddie! Cover your asses! Nance and I are bringing you guys some water!”

~~~

I don't normally do tags but since a lot of people loved the blurb, i decided to go ahead and tag those who wanted it :)

@theamericanjewitch @mlktea13 @eddiessweetheart86 @littleashleylynn @urfatherspp @ourautumn86 @only4wakingup @mayahawkewife @queenofthehellfireclub @stuckys-babydoll @eddiemunsonwhore67 @imjinxx @strangerthings1983fan @thefreakofhawkins86 @hellv1ra

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #steddie smut #smut #stranger things imagine

[ottimismocinico]

Pris in autunno su paisley underground.

#pris #she's lovely #paisley underground #addicted to pris

[morallyinept]

Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series - Chapter 13

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Chapter word count: 7.3k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: Frankie and Jude are tested to their absolute limit. Mentions of smut.

Enjoy! 🖤

Chapter 12

The pen runs out of ink on the fourteenth of April. 

Frankie looks down at the notebook as his scrawl becomes nothing but faint indents on the paper. He shakes the pen in frustration, but it’s no use. His writing days are over now. 

They’ve been on the island for almost a whole year. Surviving, barely, on fish - and now tamarind - and rain water. 

Jude would make a pulpy sweet mush of the tamarind to flavour the fish, and it jazzed up the cooking for a while. But soon, like the fish, eating the tamarind soon lost its sweet taste on their tongues. 

The school of fish had dwindled dangerously for a while, but soon more began to appear in the bay as the weather shifted. The rainy season seemed to end and the scorching sun was back with a vengeance.

One day whilst they were fishing, Frankie continued to scout around the rock pools and found a few mussels - and was careful not to step on any urchins this time - as he pried them off the rocks with the completely dull switchblade. 

He proceeded to explain to Jude in great detail about all the tasty ways you can cook mussels; rambling on excitedly like a five year-old who won’t shut the fuck up about dinosaurs, and it made her smile fondly at him to see him smile about something again.

They ate the mussels from their shells, steaming them in the tin over the fire and that seemed like a treat, something different which revitalised their spirits for a little while. 

But still they continued to appear more gaunt, often going days without eating at all, not because they didn’t have any food - what with the tamarind pods filling up a suitcase that they’d taken out as Frankie climbed the trees and shook them loose onto the ground for Jude to collect - but because when you eat the same thing over and over, you soon begin to lose your appetite for it. 

“If we ever get off this island, I’m never eating fish or tamarind again.” Jude remarks one evening as they’re sitting by the fire outside together.

Frankie has his arm slung over her shoulder and is twirling his fingers idly in the sand beside him, drawing squiggly lines absentmindedly. 

“I second that.” He smirks. “I think I might just live off of Mcdonalds for a month or something. Get a bit fat.”

“Mm. I can see you with chubby cheeks and wearing sweatpants with your gut out, shovelling burgers in your mouth. Hot.” Jude giggles. 

“Living the dream,” he agrees. She feels his chest heave as he chuckles.

“Do you think they had a funeral for us?” Jude asks a little time later, and the question winds Frankie; he stops drawing in the sand. 

He wraps his arm around her tighter and kisses the top of her head.

“I think they probably did.” He admits, trying not to think about it, admittedly. 

“What do you think they would’ve said about you?”

“Hopefully good things, but I doubt it." He says, sadly.

“Of course they did. You’re a good person.” 

“Here, maybe. But I’ve done a lot of shit I’m not proud of. Even before the coke.” He kisses her head again and rests his chin on it, staring out into the flames. Thinking about all the mistakes. 

“I miss my mom so much.” Jude whispers.

“Me too, I miss all of ‘em. Everyone.” Frankie confirms. 

He thinks about his family and the guys. Their faces flit behind his eyes. He even thinks about Carla a little too; wondering if she’d attended his funeral. He considers if she’d stood up and read from anything, or said anything heartfelt and cried with black mascara tears streaming down her face. Whether she’s mourning the loss of him and wishing things had been different. 

His chest feels tight at all of the murky recall.

Jude feels him sigh out and cuddles into him further. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just thinking is all.” Frankie assures. 

“I know, I can hear the cogs turning.”

His fingers jab, tickling into her side and she flinches, laughing. 

“I’m alright. Just comes in waves, y’know?” He explains.

“I know. When I think about it, it’s like I can’t breathe. I can’t imagine their pain. Not knowing what happened to us; that we’re right here, waiting.”

“Yeah.” Frankie nods. 

Jude reaches for his hand and interlocks his fingers, squeezing them tightly inside her own. “We have each other though, right?”

“Right,” Frankie nods to her as she looks up at him. 

She kisses him, lingering on his lips and breathing him in. He kisses her, his beard scratching against her lips and it makes her giggle. 

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” Frankie says. 

“No. You don’t tell me nearly enough.” She grins. 

“C’mere,” he says, pulling her in and squeezing her hips and she laughs. 

They spend time curled up together by the fire as it gets dark and she hears Frankie yawn. 

“You feeling sleepy?” Jude asks him and he nods, those eyes of his looking a little droopy.

“Let’s go to bed,” she smiles at him and stands up. As she does so, she stumbles backwards a little unsteady on her feet.

“Dizzy?” Frankie asks her, steadying her with a hand on her back and one on her stomach. 

“Yeah. I’m okay.” She pats his hand and begins walking towards the shack with his arm around her. 

Jude rolls over on the cushion bed a few days later and watches Frankie as he sleeps through her fuzzy vision coming into focus, rubbing crusted sleep from her eyes. 

She notices small beads of perspiration on his forehead like diamonds glittering in the sunlight streaming in through the window hole, and watches as his eyes dance crazily back and forth under his eyelids. 

He flinches a little and groans as he dreams.

She places her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrumming inside it. His skin is boiling to the touch and she sits up, a little concerned.

“Frankie...” She whispers close to his ear and he stirs, groaning. “Frankie, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

He opens his eyes slowly and turns his head towards her; focusing in on her face as she wipes at his forehead that seems utterly drenched. 

“Hey,” she greets him and he blinks several times before smiling, then frowning.

“Fuck, my head is hammering,” Frankie reaches up and runs his hand over the top of his skull with his thick fingers.

“Are you feeling alright, you’re pretty hot?” Jude touches his skin around his scarred neck. “Having a sexy dream, were you?” She snickers.

“Pornographic.” Frankie smirks.

He sits up slowly and the shack begins to spin. “Fuck.” He slumps back down on the bed and Jude fetches him some water. 

“Here, drink this.” She unscrews the cap and he glugs quickly from the bottle feeling incredibly parched.

“How much do we have left?” He gasps as though the thirst will never be satiated.

“Enough, just drink it.” She encourages, touching over his head and feeling how hot he is. “You’re burning up. Just stay in bed today, you need the rest, okay?”

Frankie nods and flops back down on the bed grunting.

“I’ll go catch us some fish, you need to eat something. I know you haven’t been.” Jude says, narrowing her eyes at him.

He smiles faintly at her through purplish-pink lips. He runs his pointer finger around the top of his head in a circle indicating there’s a halo there, and she smirks with a little unimpressed snort.

“Take my cap, it's hot out.” He says, tossing his cap at her and she plonks it on her head. 

Jude leaves him to sleep off what is probably chronic exhaustion and hunger, and heads to the bay to fish.

The water is mostly still as Jude wades around the rock pools, watching the fish and spearing them.

She catches several and smiles as they fill the tin; a sight she hasn’t seen for a long time. She glances up to see the empty shell of the fuselage on the sandbank still, ageing with an early birthing of speckled rust as the sun scorches it daily.

Her mind wanders back to the harrowing moments of the plane crash, a memory etched into her consciousness like a scar on her soul.

The cabin engulfed in chaos as the plane shuddered and lurched through the turbulent skies. Panic-stricken passengers clinging to their seats, their faces contorted in fear as the realisation of their impending doom washes over them like a tidal wave.

Jude can feel her heart pounding in her chest, each beat a thunderous drumming in her ears as she braces herself for the inevitable impact, but it goes dark, just like it did when she blacked out. 

She looks out at the horizon, thinking about the impending anniversary of them both being on the island for three hundred and sixty-five days, and all that they’ve accomplished and endured on this piece of shitty rock they’re still marooned on. 

She feels a tickle around her thighs and looks down, freezing instantly. 

It’s a small shark in the water, barely longer than her arm in length, swimming around her legs curiously and she smiles widely as she aims her spear. 

Jude heads back to the shack with the tin of fish and slimy shark corpse. She approaches the fire, tossing more kindling on it, encouraging the flames to grow once more ready for their meal, and goes to check on Frankie.

She enters under the plastic sheet. “Hey, guess what I caught in the bay, it’s a-”

She stops dead in her tracks when she sees Frankie on the ground, laying on his front, vomit all around his face and a red blotchy rash covering his back and arms. 

“Frankie!” Jude lurches forward and shakes him; he’s unresponsive and she immediately sticks her fingers into his mouth, clearing away the vomit. 

“Frankie! Wake up! Frankie!” She shakes him again and he groans with a choked gurgle.

“Oh, thank God! Frankie, can you hear me?” She pulls back his eyelid with her thumb and his eyes are rolled into the back of his head. 

She pours water from a bottle over his chin, rinsing away his vomit from around his mouth, and then uses her wet hand to touch his forehead that still feels aflame. 

“Frankie!” Jude calls out to him again, shaking him and once more he groans.

He’s alive, but she’s completely panic stricken. His breathing is shallow and laboured, his pulse weak and thready beneath her touch.

A wave of dread washes over Jude as she realises the gravity of the situation. He's sick. He's sick on an island without a doctor or any meds.

She strips him of his clothes; his body is saturated with sweat, and the heat radiating off of it feels like the sun’s corona burning her fingertips.

The rash is all over his torso, in and around his groin in patches of red lichen-like blotches which look mean and an angry red.

She hooks her arms under his armpits and drags him towards the bed, groaning out at the weight of him. 

Despite his drastic weight loss, he’s still heavy. Jude lugs him backwards more until she’s able to roll him onto the bed. She turns him over into the recovery position, tilting his head up so he doesn't swallow his tongue. 

She dabs away vomit chunks from Frankie’s beard and washes him down with sea water she collects, trying to cool his body temperature. 

Jude spends the next two days by his side, periodically pouring water down his throat as he drifts in and out of a heavy consciousness. 

“Wake up, Frankie, please.”

But Frankie remains stubbornly unconscious, his features slack and pale against the crimson blotches. He’s sick several more times, and when there’s blood in it, she freaks. 

“Frankie, stay with me,” Jude pleads to him as he passes out again; the water dribbling from his lips.

She doesn’t sleep. She never got to cook the fish or the shark. 

Instead it stays untouched outside on the beach, slowly rotting in the sun. 

Dengue fever isn’t pleasant. 

Of course, at the time neither Jude nor Frankie knew that’s what he had. 

It’s caused by mosquito bites, and only a few days prior to falling ill, Frankie had been bitten by one that was infected as he fished in the bay.

He’d slapped the pest dead against his arm and didn’t think much of it. He’d been bitten around the ankles by horseflies in the grasses and all sorts of bugs since being on the island - just another pest taking a bite out of his tasty skin. 

But it was as simple as that - a simple, little bite.

Ordinarily, if he’d been fully healthy, the effects of the fever wouldn’t have maimed him as much. But we all know that from his current state of malnourishment and dehydration, he wasn’t strong enough, and his immune system struggled to suppress the infection.

It had already begun to spread through his body and started laying down the foundations of the attack.

The signs were there; hot flushes, stomach cramps and vomiting. But yet he’d been doing that on the regular, so what was there to notice differently, really?

Frankie had caught an abundance of fish; nine in total, before the school figured out their numbers were dwindling before their eyes, and scooted off into the deep again from whence they came.

He’d cooked them all over the fire and mashed more tamarind with it, and they’d feasted like kings that evening, filling their bellies up until they felt like they would pop uncomfortably. 

They sat opposite one another, eating and playing another game of Tic-Tac-Toe in the sand and talking like they usually would.

Frankie had the hiccups; probably from eating too fast he assumed at the time, and the little belches that rolled out of him had made Jude giggle.

“Where did you get that scar on your hip?” She’d asked him randomly, as he placed down a shell in the middle box of the hand drawn grid in the sand.

“I was shot.” Frankie’s mind casts back to the helicopter crash and the feel of the bullet ripping through his skin. 

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.” He’d hiccupped again, keeping his mouth closed. 

“You were shot at a lot, weren’t you?” She placed her pebble down.

“Nine times.” He holds his wrist up at her with the numbers tattoo. 

“I couldn’t imagine that.” She said, scrunching up her face.

“I shot back, too. Thirty-nine confirmed kills.” He was concentrating on the grid and looking carefully at where to place his next shell, when his shoulders heaved again from another rolling hiccup.

“You got any scars, aside from the crippling emotional ones?” Frankie had questioned and she’d tossed one of her pebbles at him. He whinnied as it landed in his lap.

“A few,” she’d drawn her leg up and caught sight of the pink, ragged scar on the back of her calf, probably the most prominent one now to adorn her body. 

“I have this one,” Jude had said, turning her face to the right and pointing just under the top of her cheekbone. A small, faded circle was there, indented into her flesh. 

“I wondered about that one. It looks like someone hole-punched your face,” Frankie marvelled.

He hiccupped again and put his hand over his mouth tasting bile in the back of his throat.

“No, it was chicken pox. My mom says I kept scratching it and scratching it, and now I have a scar there.” She shrugged.

“My brother and I got the pox at the same time. It was fuckin’ carnage in our house when our cousins got it too. My pop just threw us all out in the garden in the pool and let us get on with it.” Frankie smiled, putting down another shell, and she’d blocked him making a complete line with another pebble.

She watched as his face changed; a sudden look of widening eyes and a serious mouth as he looked across at her.

“What?” She questioned him curiously.

Frankie promptly stood up and dashed off over towards the tree line.

Once there, he threw up; barely making it to the ground on his knees before it flooded out of him.

He pulled off his t-shirt and wiped his mouth with it, looking disgusted at the lumpy swill of barely digested fish. He groaned out as he felt it rise up again in the back of his throat and he bent forward heaving it all out.

“Hey, you okay?” Jude asked him, approaching and rubbing his back as he’d sat upright on his knees, the pile of fish and tamarind mixed puke visible in front of them.

“I’m fine. Except everything comes out of my body in liquid form now,” Frankie winced, gripping his stomach and spitting onto the ground. 

“Too much fish?” Jude asked him tenderly as he stood up.

He nodded. “Maybe, I dunno. Probably.” He scrunched the t-shirt up in his hand. 

“Come on,” she had said sympathetically, putting her arm around his waist and walking with him slowly back to the fire. 

Four days later and he’s drifting in and out of consciousness; dreaming of nothing but black feverish voids as he burns up and his body gives birth to a ferocious rash that prickles at his already scorched skin. 

Jude dips a t-shirt into the tin of sea water and wrings it out on the third day that Frankie remains hardly responsive.

She dabs at his chest and shoulders, giving him a tiresome bed bath to cool him off, titling his head back and tipping rain water into his mouth in the small instances when he’ll come to. 

She occasionally dozes off for a few moments beside him, absolutely shattered.

She’ll suddenly jolt awake when he groans out or throws up again, and the longer he remains like this, the more fearful she becomes that he’ll actually die. 

“Don’t you fucking dare die on me. You hear me, Frankie.” Jude warns him as she watches him just lying there, occasionally grunting in pain.

She hovers her fingers under his nostrils to feel for any air flowing out of them when she’s staring at his chest, convinced she can’t see it rising and falling like it should be, and working herself up all over again. 

She picks up his hand and kisses it, holding it close to her lips and feeling utterly helpless and terrified.

With each shallow breath that escapes Frankie's mouth, Jude's heart clenches with a sense of impending doom, the fear of losing him clawing at her chest like a ravenous beast.

She can't bear the thought of him slipping away from her, of being left alone in this desolate wilderness with nothing but memories of what could have been.

There’s no way she can get through this without him; she’s resolute in that fact. It’s thanks to him that she’s even made it this far; the swamping loneliness on the island would have driven her insane during the first few weeks alone.

With him here, grinning at her moronically through mouthfuls of fish to make her laugh, or showing her how to light the fire; rubbing the small of her back when she sleeps in his arms, are the moments that make life bearable on the island - make it seem normal somehow in their routine. 

The island is him - it’s Frankie.

A whole year almost of just being in his personal space and learning about his life previously makes facing each day worthwhile, something to look forward to. And to take that from her now would be cruel.

She knows if he slips away she’ll undoubtedly follow. A life without him on the island isn’t a life she wants to live through. She’s confident in that thought, as harrowing and scary as it is to consider. 

It would drive you mad, a year in this place, all alone. Loneliness is an acute disease; people die of loneliness all the time.

Have you ever heard about those stories of an elderly couple being married for years and years, and when one of them sadly passes on, the other physically can’t live without them and passes away not too soon after, dying of a broken heart? Yeah, that.

You give up; you don’t want to face the world alone without them, because you simply know you can’t.

Imagine wandering the shoreline without anyone to talk to out loud, no-one to share your fears or worries with or talk them through rationally when they try to overcome you and drown you like the ocean’s waves.

No-one to calm you down when the sheer terror will rattle through your bones convincing you that you’re going to die out here.

No-one looking into your eyes with their warm cocoa ones and telling you to breathe deeply and try again, with an encouraging smile beaming out at you from under a navy Standard Heating Oil baseball cap.

No-one to hold you in his strong, broad arms and tell you stories about his life, his hopes, wishes and dreams as you listen to the music of his body; twirling your fingers around the curly hair at the nape of his neck that has grown longer as the days had worn on.

It doesn’t bear thinking about, right?

Frankie was a stranger once; just another passenger on a plane headed for a final destination into carnage, but now he’s the better half of Jude - the stronger one, her protector.

The one to get her through, the one who had seen every single side of her, including the vulnerable, the weak and the damn right acutely terrified.

He’d seen all the ugly parts of her when no-one else had seen them before, and yet he still scooped her up in his arms and told her she was strong, brave and beautiful.  

It dawns on her that if he actually dies, if he is to slip away right now from her on this thin thread of a hard life they’ve been walking on for some time now, she’ll never recover from the loss.

Because he’s everything; he’s saved her, without a shadow of a doubt, and in more ways than one. 

I love him. I fucking love him. 

Jude’s dabbing him with the wet t-shirt again around his neck, looking closely at the faint, pink scars on his skin from when he was burned by the aviation fuel in the water, when Frankie reaches for her hand. 

She looks up at his face, his eyes bloodshot and blinking at her through heavy, tired lids. 

She scrambles up closer to his face and strokes through his wiry hair, her eyes filling with water.

“Hey,” she says, and kisses the top of his head in relief. Thank God. 

“Why you crying?” Frankie croaks out through a constricted throat. 

“Because of you, you dummy.” Jude reaches for the water and tilts the bottle towards him so he can drink. “I think you caught a fever or something. You had a rash and passed out. You’ve been out for days.” Jude rubs away the water that drips from his mouth and glistens in his beard, over-spilling.

“What?” Frankie coughs. He tries to sit upright on the bed.

“Slowly,” she urges.

“I passed out?” Frankie asks her, a little confused, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah.” She wipes her own eyes as he lifts his fingers to them and smears away a tear or two. 

For a moment, Frankie seems disoriented, his gaze searching hers as though trying to make sense of the world around him.

But then, as the fog begins to lift and clarity returns, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips - a silent reassurance that speaks volumes without a word being said.

“How are you feeling?”

“My head is still fuckin’ throbbing,” he says with eyes like he’s squinting.

Jude places the wet t-shirt on his head as a cool compress for him. “I caught a shark.” She smirks as he closes his eyes in relief of the compress.

“I knew you were badass,” Frankie smiles.

“It was a bay shark, kinda small. I couldn’t cook it; it’s probably no good now.”

“That sucks.” Frankie remarks with a faint smile through his cracked lips. He can taste blood on them and the stench of vomit lingers in his nostrils. 

She leans forward and kisses his forehead. Most of the rash has disappeared from his body except around his legs where it’s still fading. His palms and ankles are a little puffy and swollen and he looks pretty out of it still. 

Jude's eyes shine with tears as she reaches out to grasp his hand, her fingers trembling with emotion.

"Thank God you're okay," she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. "I was so scared..."

“You look tired,” he observes, pulling on her braid gently. 

“I didn’t sleep much for the last three days.” She smiles faintly, blinking and her eyes feel incredibly irritated, despite the tears now falling out of them. 

“Come here, hermosa,” Frankie encourages, holding out his arms and she shuffles into them. He wraps her in tight and he feels much cooler to the touch.

He kisses the top of her head several times and squeezes her, a silent reassurance that he’s still with her, that they’ve weathered yet another storm together. 

“I thought you were gonna die” she peeps timidly, her voice breaking.

“No. You don’t get rid of me that easily,” Frankie breathes into her hair, his throat feeling tight and raw.

Jude looks up at him and he leans in for a kiss, but she baulks as she can smell vomit on his breath. 

“Maybe wash your mouth out first,” she laughs, wiping her eyes. 

“Fuck that.” Frankie pulls her face towards him and kisses her, smiling.

They both sleep for what feels like a hundred years.

Frankie is stroking her face as she sleeps in his arms. Her rhythmic breathing is a soothing melody in the otherwise quiet dawn, a reminder of the fragility of their existence on the deserted island.

The idea of Jude navigating the challenges of survival without him fills him with a sense of guilt, a pang of regret for the moments he had been unconscious, unaware of her struggles.

He can't bear the thought of her facing the dangers of the island alone, her resilience and strength a testament to her unwavering determination to survive.

And yet, as he gazes down at her peaceful expression, a sense of gratitude washes over him - a deep-seated appreciation for her unwavering faith in him, her steadfast belief that they’ll overcome whatever obstacles lay in their path, together.

And he believes it too, knowing that with Jude by his side, he's the strongest he's ever been in his life. 

With a soft sigh, Frankie presses a tender kiss to the top of Jude's head, his heart heavy with the weight of his own fears and insecurities, but they’re muted for a while longer as he lies with her.

She wakes a little while later and it’s barely light out. 

“How are you feeling?” Jude asks him through a stifled yawn. 

“Better.” His stomach rumbles and they chuckle together. “Hungry.”

“You feel up to going fishing today? Might find another shark.” She asks with a small birth of hope in her voice.

“Yeah. I’ll give it a go.” He nods and kisses her forehead again. 

Frankie sits up slowly and takes his time standing fully upright on his legs that feel weak and like they don’t belong to him.

“I need a wash first though, I stink.” He says, getting a whiff of himself.

“Yeah. You’re a bit ripe.” Jude laughs, wrinkling her nose. 

She takes him by the hand and leads him slowly down towards the shore, stopping by the cave mouth to pick up the remaining soap and shampoo. He looks at her expression and shrugs as she explains that it’s the last of it.

“Well, it was a nice luxury whilst we had it,” Frankie remarks casually. 

They wade into the sea and he dips under the water and resurfaces, running his hands over his face, water dripping from his beard that’s longer and more coarse.

Jude squirts some of the shower gel into her palm. He holds his out and she squirts the last of it into his hands in a bubbly dollop, and watches as he rubs them together making a creamy lather. 

Smirking, Frankie runs his hands across her chest, massaging the soap into her breasts, and stopping momentarily to feel her nipples harden under his palms. 

She leans in, kissing him and tasting salt on his lips. She runs her soapy hands through his hair, scratching through it as she works the lather and makes him groan out in a satisfied grunt.

“I like it when you make that noise...” She breathes, smiling as he opens his eyes and looks back at her.

“I like the noises you make, too.” He grins. 

Jude presses up against his chest; her breasts crushed tight against him as he kisses her with some sudden uncontrollable urgency. His tongue darts into her mouth and his hands paw at her ass.

She reaches down into the water and finds his cock, hard and rigid. He grunts out into her lips as his fingers swim up inside her pussy, and makes her gasp out too as his thumb brushes against her clit. 

“Fuck me...” Frankie whines into her mouth enticingly as she pumps him. 

“You should really take it easy,” she says around his lips, unable to resist that pull of him as his fingers slide in and out of her.

He shakes his head. “Fuck me, Jude.” Frankie whines again, smirking with glittery eyes.

She bites down on his lip making him hiss. He lifts her up onto him; the soft, bounding waves keep her buoyant as she wraps her legs around his waist.

Jude cries out as she feels him slide into her, making him grunt in unison. 

He holds onto her ass cheeks as he rocks his hips back and forth in the water, fucking her deep and with intense strokes. 

“You feel so good,” she whines.

Jude clings on around his neck, crushing her lips to his and moaning out as she bounces up and down on his thick cock, with a little help from the waves in a deliciously intense rhythm. 

“Fuck!” Frankie grunts out, gripping onto her ass tighter. 

“Frankie!” She throws her head back as she comes hard and fast; her braid dipping into the water and he’s gasping out through his own rolling orgasm as he pumps out inside of her, shaking.

She holds onto him as they stop moving, feeling his cock slide out of her, and he kisses her again.

They chuckle, and she watches as he dives under the water, rinsing the suds from his hair and swimming around her, poking her in the stomach or butt cheek from under the water. 

Jude looks up at the sky, a huge weight of relief sliding off of her shoulders that had been wrought and tense for the last few days. 

Thank you...

She’s running, but no matter how fast she runs, the helicopter is falling further and further out of sight, away from the island. 

“Wait! Don’t leave me!” 

Her voice is being swallowed up by the sound of the crashing tide rolling in beside her as she runs down the beach. 

Jude can see Frankie inside the helicopter looking out at her; the wind flapping through his unruly locks, and waving back at her as he shrinks further and further into the horizon, until the helicopter disappears completely and Jude is left on the beachfront, falling to her knees in horrific disbelief.

No, NO!

She wakes up with a jolt; her heartbeat reverberating crazily inside her chest like it’s trying to escape.

She’s had this nightmare a few times since being on the island, but it seems more intense this time - more like it could be real and she’s waiting for it to happen where she won’t wake up, no matter how many times she pinches herself. 

She finds Frankie crouched by the fire pit cooking a singular fish and turning it over on the flat stone.

Egon is perched beside him on the rock watching the fish sizzling intently; looking for a snatch-and-run opportunity. 

Frankie scoops a piece of tamarind out of the tin he’s been mashing up and offers it out to Egon; the little monkey’s fingers curl around his own.

“That’s all you’re getting.” Frankie advises him. 

He looks over his shoulder as Jude approaches. “Hey,” he croons to her with a sleepy smile. 

“Morning, Captain Morales,” she yawns, planting a kiss on his crown before heading down to the shore for a swim to wake her up. 

It’s been several weeks since Frankie suffered through his horrific fever, and although it seems as though he’s recovered well physically, mentally is another question. 

He’s been a little quiet; withdrawn and reflective as she often catches him just staring into nothing.

Completely zoned out at the furthest reaches from her, until she’ll touch his hand and he’ll come back to her with a little startle and a faint smile to convince her that he’s okay. 

She wonders what it is that he sees in that thousand yard stare.

She slips off her clothes that are like a tent on her now. She’s been reduced to just wearing the bikini bottoms and a t-shirt that swamps her as of late; the shorts and her jeans no longer stay up around her waist of their own volition and she’s tired of hanging onto them all the time. 

Frankie wears a t-shirt, or a plaid woollen jacket on the days it’s a little chillier, and he often drapes it around her shoulders to keep her warm at night.

When it’s unbearably hot, he’s often fully naked and letting it all hang out and free, and it's a sight that admittedly, she won’t tire of.

The flip-flops have long since broken and so he walks on bare feet, the skin on his soles hard and dry. 

Jude’s hair has grown so long that it almost touches her lower back and it seems almost daily that Frankie re-braids it for her after combing the knots out with his fingers as they sit by the fire or on the shore whilst he does it.

His own hair and beard is even shaggier now and grease slicked from sweat. The cap barely keeps its unruly mess at bay.

She’s noticed his weight loss increase further over the last few months, seeing the bony bulges of his spine now too when he hunches over the fire.

How his rib cage is showing under his skin and how sunken and sullen his face looks, more so than it ever had before. He’s so skinny it’s spooky.

It’s a harsh reality to confront that essentially they’re only just keeping full starvation at bay. She dreads to think what they'll do when the tamarind stops growing, or the fish stop coming into the bay altogether.

It gives her shivers to even venture down that route of dark, swirly thoughts that are like gnarled fingers reaching out for them and following them around, ready to snap them up at any given moment. 

Jude wades into the water to cool her skin and notices the sky is a swirl of blue and grey. Clouds are forming on the horizon and the breeze contains a little nip, even through the heavy heat. 

She swims around in the water, untying her braid and diving under to resurface again to wash her hair without shampoo as she scratches through her salty scalp with her fingers.  

Frankie’s padding into the water, and she smiles warmly as he swims towards her and kisses her deeply.

She wraps her legs around his waist as he holds her whilst they bob in the water. 

“I made some food. Fish and tamarind paste, my specialty.” Frankie smirks at her.

She clutches his chin with her thumb and finger and kisses him again.

“And maybe some monkey, because if Egon steals it I will actually gut him.”

“You love him really,” Jude smiles, patting his hairy cheek.

He dives under the waves and as he resurfaces, he clocks the panic stricken look morphing on Jude’s face as the water rinses out his ears. 

“What?” He questions, frowning.

Then he feels it himself; the intense shaking and rocking of the seabed floor.

She plops backwards in the water as the heavy rumbling intensifies, knocking her off balance. 

“Fuck!” Frankie swims to her as she resurfaces, wiping at her face and spluttering in shock. 

“Holy shit, was that an earthquake?!” Jude exclaims to him as he hoists her up on her feet in the shifting water as the rumbles die out. 

“We need to get outta the fuckin’ water!” Frankie presses to her with wide eyes. 

“Wait,” she pulls him back, but he simply grabs at her hand, pulling her forward

“I’m serious, Jude. We need to get to high ground, quickly.” The panic is palpable in his voice. “That was a fuckin’ earthquake. We’re on an island in the middle of the ocean. A tsunami will be imminent. We have to get to high ground!” Frankie repeats to her, looking Jude dead in the eye.

He isn’t messing around.

Jude can feel her heartbeat crashing inside her chest as he says the words. “A-a tsunami?” 

“Yeah, we have maybe fifteen minutes or so, maybe less.”

“How do you know that, it might not even happen?”

“Do you wanna take that chance? C’mon!” Frankie makes a dash for the shoreline and they run naked towards the shack.

She frantically pulls on clothes as does he inside of it.

“Here!” Frankie tosses her a life jacket; one of the two he’d kept rolled up all this time on the case beside the bed.

A warning sign; a deadly prediction from his gut thriving into fruition right under their noses all this time.

It only perplexes him how, at the time all those months ago when he’d made that decision not to cut these two life jackets up, that he would be right not to.

He hopes he’s wrong. Hopes that nothing will happen and that his overzealousness will be met with a rational calm later.

With trembling hands, his senses on high alert, he searches in his mind for the safest route to higher ground. Every second feels like an eternity as they stumble through the frantic chaos.

Jude unravels it and puts it over her head, fastening the ties, but not inflating it. 

He nods at her as she glances at him as her hands work the ties in a blur, time seeming like it grinds to a complete halt as the looks they exchange terrify them both to their cores. 

They both run out of the shack. Frankie looks out at the sea and it all seems calm and normal. No signs of any turbulent water, but they can’t take the chance and be caught unawares. 

“Up to the ridge, go!” Frankie instructs. 

They scramble up the hill towards the ridge; getting up there in half the time it usually takes them. Frankie’s pulling her by the arm, almost yanking it out the socket as they pelt up the hill as fast as they can muster. 

They reach the top of the ridge and Frankie’s branch igloo is still there; as is the ugly shirt flag fluttering in the breeze. Jude puts her hands on her knees and breathes in heavily, staring out at the horizon, watching... waiting. 

“What do we do?” She puffs. 

“We wait. It’s all we can do.” Frankie confirms bleakly.

“It might not happen,” she murmurs, convincing herself.

“Almost after every earthquake at sea, there’s a tsunami that follows,” Frankie informs her, but it doesn’t make it any better.

His mind races with the memories of the devastating effects of tsunamis he’d witnessed during his time in the military, on search and rescue recon’s - the sheer power of the waves etched into his memory like a nightmare he can't shake.

“Are we up high enough?” Jude asks, fear gripping her. 

He doesn’t answer, feeling the heavy breeze blow through his beard and watches as the wind whips around her hair, casting it about wildly like a sea monster with several hundred tentacles coming at him.

Frankie secures his own life jacket around his waist and then tugs on Jude’s to check its tightness. He undoes it and ties it again for her, and she feels him pull on it again afterwards to test it won’t come undone. 

Frankie looks up at the flag shirt and reaches for it, tearing it down from the branch. She watches him rip through the fabric with ease.

He takes her right arm and wraps it around hers and then around his left one, effectively tying their two hands together. 

She locks her fingers into his and he grips onto them tightly.

She can already feel the bind of the shirt cutting off her circulation, but it’s nothing compared to the sheer terror raging through her body right now. 

And that's when she realises it. Realises how eerily quiet it’s suddenly become.

“Shit...” Frankie gasps looking over her head at the horizon, his eyes widening in fear. 

He pulls her back towards him as she turns and sees the waves high in the sky in the distance.

All she can do is gulp at the sight of it hurtling towards the island. 

Frankie tugs on the pull cord of her life jacket, the hiss pours out of it as it inflates around her chest and throat.

He does the same with his, but nothing happens. 

Jude looks wide-eyed at him; hearing nothing but her heartbeat inside of her ears almost deafening her now. 

“No, no, no-”

“It’s ok,” he reassures. “Just don’t let go. It’ll be okay.” Frankie squeezes her hand tighter than ever. "Don't fuckin' let go."

Jude looks out at the horizon, at the waves hurtling towards them; thundering across the ocean and staring at imminent death in the face as it smiles back at them viciously.

It’s been waiting for them, waiting for so long and is now coming to reap the reward of its patience.

“Frankie-” She begins in a terrified voice that whimpers and cracks. “Frankie!”

“I fuckin’ love you, Jude!” Frankie calls out to her frantically over the storm of the relentless tidal commotion that bellows through their eardrums.

She looks back and sees the transformation on his face.

It’s like super, slow motion as his nostrils flare, his eyes widen as big as they'll go, and his mouth morphs into a large engulfing hole; his teeth bared and shouting as loudly as he can at her. 

He wrenches Jude backwards into his arms as the waves fully engulf the island in a thunderous roar. 

“BRAAACE!!” Frankie yells. 

To be continued...

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[txtistheloml]

3:13 p.m. - choi . bg

genre! - smut (mdni.)

pairing! - beomgyu x fem!reader (established rs)

word count! - 1072 (1.072k)

summary! - you've missed him. maybe in more ways than one.

the soft rays of afternoon sun beamed through your curtains, landing ever so softly on a sound asleep beomgyu. you lay on your side as you admire his sun-kissed features, wondering how could someone look so perfect even when asleep.

his chest rises and falls gently with every breath he takes, soft pink lips parted slightly to breathe. your eyes involuntarily trail down to his hands - a part of him you've always loved, maybe a little too much. you've always found his hands pretty and the way his veins bulged out to decorate them just made them look even better in your opinion.

having him right next to you, on the same exact bed as you felt unreal. he was finally home after a 9-month world tour. he'd only arrived this morning and the immense happiness you felt when you finally saw him face to face after months was truly indescribable. being exhausted from all the travelling, of course he had to get some sleep with you wrapped up in his arms. you were too excited to even get some shut eye, staring at him as if he would disappear if you even took your eyes off of him for a second.

all you can say is: you've missed him. maybe in more ways than one.

the veins on his hands were so visible even when he was asleep. your fingers ached to trace his skin, to feel his warmth. his touch, a memory that had sustained you during his absence, was now a craving. your hands pulled towards his face like a magnet, sparks igniting where your skin meets. the feeling of his skin was addictive, beckoning you closer, promising a satisfaction you knew only he could provide.

"baby... what's wrong?"

his words snap you out of your daydream, hazy eyes peering up at him as he stirs awake. his eyes squint a little as he looks at you, trying to adjust to the brightness the room offered.

"i'm sorry gyu... did i wake you?"

"nuh uh, its okay," shaking his head as he smiles ever so sweetly at you, snuggling his head into the crook of your neck and holding you close to him.

your mind floats off to the depths of your head, wild thoughts being all that you could think of at that moment. the way beomgyu's hand slides slightly under your shirt to rest his hand on the small of your back and rub soothingly at it doesn't quite help, pressing your thighs together discreetly for even the slightest bit of friction you could get without being obvious.

"did you miss me ynie? i missed you sooo much," he inquires as he pouts cutely.

you don't know what got into you but it feels all like a sweet dream when you attach your lips to his, feverishly kissing the life out of him. he reciprocates the kiss gratefully, having missed you too. beomgyu looked stunned when you finally pulled away, red lips slightly swollen and glossed over in saliva.

"missed you gyu, need you please..." words tumbling out of your lips faster than you can process them before you're practically begging him with need, whining softly as you tug on his hand. he lets out a small laugh before climbing over you, his bigger hands holding your wrists down on the bed.

"yeah? did my doll miss me? need my fingers? so needy, how cute."

beomgyu coos at you condescendingly and all you can do is nod your head dumbly at everything he says. kissing up the column of your neck as he purposely ruts his hard-on on your inner thigh, leaving you high and dry.

suddenly, he gets off of you and moves to sit on the floor against the bed situating himself in front of the body length mirror you have. he turns to you and pats his lap, "aren't you gonna come baby? said you wanted my fingers, no?"

that was all it took to get you scrambling to your feet and you swear it was the fastest you ever got out of bed. you took off your panties as told to and climbed onto his lap facing the mirror, his chest pressed against your back as he pries your legs apart.

he slides his middle finger up and down your slit to collect your wetness, barely brushing over your clit to tease you. "shit you're so wet," he groans, rubbing your clit in agonisingly slow circles. he gives your sensitive pearl a few firm taps causing you to whine out, "gyuuu, dont tease please-!" the last word coming out as more of a squeak as he suddenly rubs your clit quickly in tight circles, using his left hand to wrap around your throat and squeezing lightly.

"my fingers making you feel good baby?"

"yesyes yes! so good gyu, soso fucking good..." the pleasure that he was giving you combined with your lack of air makes you all lightheaded and giddy, knowing the tightening knot in your belly would snap anytime soon.

he slips two fingers into your dripping hole easily and curls them to prod at the sweet spot inside of you he has memorised, ripping sharp gasps and moans from you.

"look at yourself in the mirror doll, getting all dumbed out just from my fingers hm? my pretty doll."

catching a glimpse of yourself falling apart on his fingers causes you to whimper pathetically, seeing how you're just like putty in his hands. as he slides his fingers in and out of your hole, the squelching sound of your pussy ringing through the room is so loud and so lewd, you would be embarrassed if you were more mentally awake.

with beomgyu's fingers curling so perfectly at your g-spot and his thumb working at your clit just the way you like it, your orgasm suddenly hits you like a truck, sooner than he expected. he whispers lewd words into your ear and speeds up his movements to push you through your orgasm. one of his arms held you down to him as you squirm in his lap from the sensitivity, thighs shaking and you swore you blacked out for a few seconds from the intensity of your orgasm.

he slowly slides his cum-covered fingers out, watching the way they glisten in the light and he teasingly swipes a finger over your clit, watching the way you shudder slightly with a laugh.

"watch here doll. 'm gonna clean up your cum from my fingers."

#txt smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt x reader #txt fic #beomgyu fic #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu x reader #evelyn’s works ⭐️

[jarofstyles]

Saccharine- Verboten 9

It's been a little bit! Here is part 9, please message us what you think!

Check out our Patreon for early access + exclusive writing!

Verboten Masterlist

WC- 2.4k

Warnings- age gap, smut, richrry, best friend's dad, etc

----

“Sweet Angel.”

His voice never got old. Fingers pried her thighs open, a soft whimper leaving her mouth as she felt his tongue swipe up her messy folds, sensitivity making her jerks before his hands gripped her hips to keep her still. “Uh-uh. None of that. Aren’t you going to let me clean up my mess?” The croon of his sexed out voice made her shiver, splaying her thighs open as she gripped the sheets that had come off the bed slightly. It didn’t matter anyways, they desperately needed a change. 

Once she had opened herself back up, she was met with what she was assumed were praises falling from the older man’s mouth. “Bene, così bene per me. Ho incasinato la mia bellissima ragazza. Lascia che ti pulisca.” His hot tongue followed suit, her eyes rolling back as she resisted the urge to clench her thighs together. 

This was one of Harry’s favorite parts. Getting to see the mess he made of his girl. 5 days into the trip and he had been a menace. He knew that. His attempts to take it easy had been in vain, as neither of them could keep their hands off of each other, but there had at least been an attempt on his end. It was just difficult when their feelings were finally out in the open and Y/N had let down the final wall he had been trying to tip over with his gentle pushing. She knew how much he liked her, and he was relishing in her unfiltered behavior. 

Her shuddery inhale was the sweetest melody, tongue tenderly swiping up again to make sure she was clean of the remnants of their lazy morning sex. A new tradition that Harry hoped would extend back at home. His girl was soft and pliant for him in the dewy mornings. He’d woken up as the golden sun had leaked into their bedroom, the sheer white curtains that slightly hid the view of the city ocean and rock below them being lit a warm orange. A sunrise with the warm Italian breeze drifting through the cracked balcony door hitting his skin as he felt her soft breathing on his chest. 

Y/N had not only spread her wings for him, but let him into her cocoon. A warm, snug area where she could be as giggly and as soft as she wanted. Limbs tangled like yarn a kitten has played with, a pure side to her that many didn’t get to even theorize about. He got to hear her little comments under her breath as they people watched out in public, let her babble about her dreams once she woke, took diligent mental notes about things she had never mentioned before- such as always wishing to go trail riding one day, her love of the particular moss colored green tile in the kitchen that she had fawned over for a bit too long, the skincare routine he had watched a million times before but looking at the brands so he knew what else to indulge in for holidays. 

Harry was a man in love, love so deep that it sort of startled him when he thought about it. While the actual sentiment hadn’t been actively exchanged, he knew it was mutual. It wasn’t any sort of arrogance, but the way in which her feather soft touches caressed his face and arms. How gentle she was with him, her worries of his thoughts and feels. How she kissed him. Languid and syrupy, her soft mewls against his mouth and desire to be as close as possible even when he was buried to the hilt. 

This trip was spoiling him and he was going to take every single moment and marinated in it. When they got back home, they’d have some bumps to go through. 

“H-Harry…” Her sleepy voice moaned, a glance up showing her smile. “This isn’t just cleaning me up.” 

Correct. The older man had been greedy for her pleasure since the first day they’d connected in an intimate way. Y/N’s orgasms, her affection, the taste of her, they were all his willing addictions. A greedy, greedy man he was, constantly taking if she allowed it. She always did. 

“M’Sorry, my love.” He pulled back, pressing a kiss to her swollen clit. “Did a number on you last night… Know you must be sensitive, but you don’t understand how incredible you taste to me.” his fingers kept her spread while his other arm was hooked over her stomach, her hand holding on to his forearm to ground herself. 

Y/N’s eyes glazed over as she remembered how he had taken her the night before. Murmuring things that she didn’t know the exact meaning of in Italian, lighting up her insides as he had taken her under the stars on the loungers on the patio. Lips against her ear as her hands had dragged down his back, the wet sound of their sex and distant music from a party 2 houses over filling the night. He had filled her up and fucked his seed back inside of her, whispering about how that was the only place he wanted his cum for the entire trip and how much he adored her. 

“How do I taste to you?” The breathless question was asked despite her own knowledge of what would happen next. Harry was a man, a man dedicated to her pleasure and easy to trigger when it came to sex. Y/N had been bent over the kitchen counter with her dress bunched over her waist just from purring his nickname into his ear. 

His tongue paused at the top, nose brushing her mound as he chuckled against her puffy cunt. What a question. She knew how she tasted, Harry’s tongue soaked in her having been dipped into her mouth plenty of times- but she wanted to know how it tasted to him. How did he describe the most addicting thing he had ever placed his tongue on? 

“Honey.” He drawled, fingers spreading her open again as he took a look at her. “Sweet, sweet honey. My own brand of addiction. Syrupy and sweet, so sticky. Look how it sticks to my fingers, my love.” He pulled his fingers off momentarily and spread them apart, letting her see the strings of arousal webbed together. It was messy, sloppy, and the both of them seemed to have a like for that sort of debauchery. “The taste of you is my favorite. Do you ever wonder why I can’t drag myself away from between your thighs?” He questioned, pulling his fingers into his mouth with a moan that made her sensitive hole clench around nothing. 

This man, the one who she had to taunt into being rough and dirty with her, had overtaken her in boldness and experimentation. He’d opened up and uncovered the man she had a feeling laid underneath the pristine shirts and kind eyes. The filth had been underlying and Y/N had caught on early on. Birds of a feather and all that. 

“I can’t pull myself away. M’obsessed with how you taste, how you feel… You. You’ve overtaken my mind, my beautiful girl. La mia bella ragazza. Non riesco a toglierti dalla mente. Sono ossessionato.” His last words were muffled as he pulled her clit back into his mouth, Y/N’s eyes rolling back and fingers finding his hair yet again. 

—-------

Y/N had been imagining what it would be like to be official with Harry. It had been something that haunted her brain since the day at the pool house. One taste of him and her single burst of confidence had melded into a whole relationship that was beyond her wildest dreams, but this had especially taken her off guard. 

Harry had been attentive before they solidified any issues, but to her surprise it had only gotten better. Now it was clear that a barrier, despite it being clear, was hard acrylic. Giving her a glimpse into the nest of comfort and saccharine he could provide. With the barriers shattered on both ends, Y/N had a feeling she was going to develop cavities. 

Some of her shock had been chalked up to a poor dating poor pre-Harry. She hadn’t experienced fresh flowers delivered daily, candlelit dinners on the balcony overlooking the italian coast that he cooked himself, gelato tinged kisses, body worship, least of all clear communication. Dating in college had been grim to say the least and that had been a bit of a hint that her hunches growing up would be correct. Despite the knowledge that older men were still just men, after all, she knew she craved a different sort of goal. Maturity. She wanted to be spoiled with affection.

Now that she was getting that, though, she didn’t realize how good it could be. 

At first it had made her slightly uncomfortable. The lack of barriers had also introduced a clearer picture of his intentions. Harry wanted to keep her, he’d said so himself, and this relationship was supposed to be for building up their connection. Having his intense stare on her at all times, every single drop of his attention when she spoke, it had made her realize just how half assed her past attempts of dating had really been. He placed his phone face down at the table while they ate, he kept her eye contact, he remembered the tiny things she said. She hadn’t been a fan of clams and he’d made sure to request the dish they had without them, happy to pay extra for a new plate. 

As sad as it could be seen as, how bare minimum people could claim, it was so new to her that it had taken a few days to get used to. 

One thing she definitely hadn’t expected was Harry scheduling them a spa day. A real spa day, with massage and facials and a high class sauna. All of the bells and whistles that had her eyes wide, hand tangled with his and anxiously held to the front of her body as she looked around the expensive facility. They’d had to drive out of the village for it, Harry keeping it a surprise until they’d walked in. 

She’d watched a video on her phone the night prior in bed, showing him a bit as she had said she’d need to get a facial when they got back home for her pores- which he had responded like a true boy about having the necessities for a facial right then- but she hadn’t thought much of it until walking in on marble floors as a boisterous woman greeting Harry in rapid italian. 

Was this how it would always be?

“Questa è tua moglie?” The woman gestured to Y/N making her curious. What was she saying? She’d need to learn italian so she didn’t feel left out. 

Harry’s fond eyes laid on her, squeezing the hand she was holding against her tummy before replying. “Non ancora. Un giorno, se mi avrà.” 

“Oh, che meraviglia.” The woman clapped, looking at Y/N with bright eyes. It must be a good exchange.  “Siamo onorati di averti qui. Lascia che ti controlli”

A bit more chatting was finished up before they were whisked over to locker rooms, Y/N being brought over to the women’s and H giving her a kiss on the lips before taking his towel and robe into the men’s. 

“I apologize, Miss. I did not know you did not speak Italian.” The woman smiled. “We will ask that you rinse off just a bit. There is a selection of soap. Lavender, Oat, Rose, Eucalyptus and the white is unscented. When you are finished, you can leave out the side door and it will bring you to the massage room where Signore Harry will be waiting.”

Y/N thanked the woman, going into the locker room. 

Wow. 

It was spacious and beautifully designed with high-end finishes and luxurious amenities, with a sleek design with soothing lighting, plush seating arrangements, and an opulent ambiance.

White lockers lined the walls to accommodate guests, each of which seemed secured with a digital lock- she would need to use her birthday as a code. She was awful with them. . The lockers seemed large enough to hold double of what she had. Harry had handed her a bad with what she assumed held her clothes and whatever else he would think of as necessary. Considering how closely he had been paying attention to her, she trusted his judgment. 

She placed the soft white robe and slippers, as well as a fluffy towel down once she found one that she liked, taking a look around the area again. There seemed be plenty of grooming necessities including hairbrushes and combs that you could obviously bring home- but the wooden handles showed they definitely weren’t cheap. This was not going to be a cheap activity, not by a long shot. On the wall near the showers were shelves of tiny bottles of shampoos, conditioners, and body washes. Underneath had white mini loofahs and disposable razors- and Y/N had to remind herself not to be a little rat and steal some to bring home. Temptation would be strong. 

It again showed her how well off, wealthy, her now boyfriend? Lover? Was. He had a big house at home, yes, but he wasn’t one to show off besides with his cars and paying for meals. He never flaunted. It had her reminded yet again that she had been plunged into a world she had no idea how to navigate- but she couldn’t say she hated it. She deserved spoiling sometimes. Harry had been trying to tell her that the whole trip, especially after she made comments every time she put on one of the dresses he had bought her at the market. 

This was a whole other way of living. Harry had obviously been one of the more down to earth rich folk, but it still made her a little shocked as she took in the qualities of each thing as she did as instructed. This was no cheap hotel body wash. Was- were the combs Versace?! Taking a look at the golden emblem, Y/N had to scream silently into her fluffy robe as she placed it down on the mirrored vanity, separated by walls to give her privacy. Fuck.

What had she gotten herself into? And how could  it feel so guiltily good? 

#best friends dad #best friends dadrry #bff dad #bff dadrry #verboten #jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #age gap harry styles #harry styles age gap #dadrry #harry styles au #harry styles one shots #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry angst #harry fluff #harry styles fic #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles book

[judeswhore]

some sweet lovin’; steve harrington

summary: steve is supposed to be getting ready for work but in your extra needy state, you join him in the shower and well, one thing leads to another

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: smut, 18+, handjob, steve’s hair pulling kink (blink and you’ll miss it) unprotected sex

notes: feedback is appreciated! you can find my masterlist here.

finding steve's side of the bed empty when you woke was enough to have you grumbling, lips turning down in a pout as you felt around for him. the mattress was still warm, sheets still crinkled so he hadn't left all that long ago and your confusion over where he'd gone was cleared when you lifted your head from beneath the duvet. the soft sound of the shower could be heard in the silence of the harrington home and you perked up ever so slightly as you thought about joining your boyfriend.

"steve?" your voice was soft, just loud enough to be heard over the running water as you stepped into the bathroom. you could make out steve's frame behind the glass door, slightly hazy from the heat and steam but still the outline of his broad shoulders  sent a shot of desire down you spine. you hated that he had to leave for work early, hated that the two of you couldn't just spend the day in a tangled mess of limbs and mouths and sheets.

"mornin', pretty girl." steve was clearly still half asleep, words a little sluggish and drawn out, the end rolling off into a yawn he didn't even try to hide. he was fiddling with the temperature on the shower, one hand lifted so he could absentmindedly scratch at his shoulder and you seemed to burn. an overwhelming urge to be pressed as close as possible to him swam over you, you wanted to wrap your arms around him, squash your cheek against the slick skin of his chest and just have him hold you. "you wanna get in?"

you were tugging your shirt and shorts off before he'd even finished, dropping them into the laundry basket on top of his before sliding the glass shower door open. you were immediately hit with the heat, water droplets spraying on you as they bounced off steve's body from the pressure. he was still facing away from you, still adjusting the temperature and so you pushed up behind him, wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face into his shoulder blade. he gave a soft, pleased hum when you kissed his skin.

"morning." you dragged your lips in soft kisses over his shoulder, tightened your arms ever so slightly around him in a hug and tried not to think too much about how he felt against you. steve's hand settled over yours, fingers tapping softly at the back of it before he curled your fingers together and pried your arms from around him. within seconds he'd spun, wrapped your arms back around his waist but now the action had your chest flush against his, your chin tipped back so you could meet his gaze.

he was all messy, wet hair and soft eyes, droplets of water clinging like stars to his lashes and the heat of the shower had brought a gentle flush to his cheeks. his lips curved into that smile of adoration and he dipped his head, nudged his nose against the tip of yours as he brought his hands to cup your cheeks. he pressed a single kiss to your mouth, too quick and fleeting for your liking but it still had fizzles of happiness bubbling through you.

"hi." your whisper made his smile grow even more, another kiss falling to your lips, this one a little longer and containing a lot more heat. steve shifted a little beneath the shower head and as a result the water started falling more fully over you, completely soaking your head and causing your skin to slip ever so slightly against his. the lazy drag of his lips over yours was addicting, your need for more outweighing your need for air, nails sinking a little into his back to tug him closer. he made a noise in the back of his throat and pulled his lips away, settling his forehead against yours, thumbs brushing in soothing motions over your wet cheeks.

“hi.” he pressed a kiss to your nose and then to your forehead, skimmed the palm of his hand down your arm. his hair was sticking to his forehead in wet clumps, dripping water down the bridge of his nose and you had to reach up and brush it back, purposely grazing your nails against his scalp. the tangles got caught a little between your fingers and resulted in you giving a light tug to his hair, steve groaning quietly, hips pressing forward almost unnoticeably in search of the tiniest bit of friction. “s’far too early for you to be awake.”

that was true, steve knew that when you weren’t staying over at his place you didn’t wake up for another two hours, six a.m mornings were not your thing. and usually, even when you had spent the night with him, he would leave you in bed when he left for work, mumbling a quiet “love you” into the top of your head as he kissed you goodbye. today however you’d woken and the need to be close to steve was intense, you didn’t want him to leave just yet, you wanted more time with him before he got hogged by work and the kids. and if that meant waking up two hours before you usually would then so be it.

“wanna be with you.” you moved closer to him, pressed your nose into the wet skin at his throat, needing even more contact than what you already had. steve’s hands had shifted to your back, one massaging over your shoulder blade while you hid away in his neck, kissed the base of his throat and breathed in the natural scent of his skin.

“someone’s feeling a little needy today.” his tone was teasing, light and lilting but you only hummed because you were needy, desperate for the closest sort of contact possible. you weren’t exactly sure what had brought this mood on, maybe it was the not so innocent dream you’d had, or maybe it was just the effect a half naked sleepy steve had on you. either way you needed him.

“jus’ really fucking love you.” your muffled words made him laugh softly, his fingers massaging a little harder into your shoulders and the pressure had you moaning, heat pooling between your thighs. of course, steve heard the little noise you’d let out and always the tease, pressed just a little harder between your shoulder blades.

“really fucking love you too, baby.” he dipped to kiss the side of your head, lips pressing along your hairline and between each one he playfully mumbled a soft “i love you”. it was gentle and innocent, full of adoration and comfort and despite knowing he really had to get ready for work you let your hand slide down his chest. your fingers grazed his happy trail, dipped lower until you could wrap them around his cock. he was half hard already, a result of your hair tugging, light nips to his throat and the feel of your boobs pressed flush to his chest and he hummed at the contact, nuzzled into the side of your head. “i have to be at work in an hour.”

you kissed along his jaw, tightened your hand into a fist and slowly dragged it along the length of him. you set a slow pace, pumping softly, savouring the breathy groans he was letting out directly into your ear. your teeth nipped at his skin and he hissed, gripped your hips between his fingers.

"that's plenty of time." you moved your hand faster, squeezing the tip gently and steve bucked his hips towards you, fucked his cock into your hand with soft moans. without even realising you'd somehow backed up against the wall, his body pressing yours into the tiles as he leant his forehead against yours. his lashes fluttered, lips parting when you brushed your thumb over the slit.

"always tryna get me in trouble." before you could reply he caught your lips in a scathing kiss, mouth prying yours open until he could slide your tongues together. you whimpered, jerked your hand faster, pussy almost dripping from the noises steve was making and the fact he was making them just for you. lips still locked, he brought his hand down and covered your fist with his much larger one, fingers warm and wet, and slowed the pace at which you were tossing him off. he guided your movements, slow, sure strokes along the entire length of his cock, his fingers encouraging yours to tighten just a little bit more. "fuck, just like that."

your clit throbbed, need and desire bubbling at the base of your spine and you tilted your head back against the wall, steve's mouth finding the sensitive skin on your neck. the shower water was hitting the side of both of you, the heat only adding to your overwhelmingly flustered state and the little noises you were letting out only got more frequent. he sucked a bruise beneath your ear, soothed his tongue over the mark and bucked into your hand, settled the palm of his own free hand against the wall just above your head.

you kept up the slow strokes over his cock, steve's hips carefully following your movements as he lifted his fist from around yours and instead let his fingers find that aching spot between your thighs. the tip of his finger slid between your folds and he moaned low in the back of his throat at how wet you were, coated his fingers before teasing over your clit. your lips fell open, the hand that wasn't fisting at his cock wrapping in the soaked strands of his hair, tugging when the pad of his middle finger circled the oversensitive bud.

steve's mouth was hovering over yours, neither of you making a move to kiss the other, both just panting softly, wrapped in pleasure. the high points of his cheeks had flushed pink, brow creased in the middle and the breathless moans he was letting out were making your head spin. he rubbed his fingers slowly over clit, gentle circles that had you shifting your hips forward, whining slightly over how good it felt. it was slow and sensual, a stark contrast to the way he'd used you last night, his fingers dipping down to tease your hole before finding your clit again.

you were both rocking into the others hand, steve slowly fucking your fist while mumbling how good it felt in your ear, lips tickling the side of your face and you bucking your hips against him in search of more friction. you twisted your wrist, stroked your hand faster and he whimpered, a low, soft sound that had all of your thoughts hurtling to a stand still. steve was always vocal, he was never one to hide his moans but this was a noise you'd never heard from him before, one that made your pussy clench, desperate for him to fill it up.

"m'gonna cum before i even get to fuck you if you don't slow down." he gave a breathless laugh, tucked his face away in the crook of your neck as you grazed your thumb over the tip of his cock. he twitched in your palm, pre cum dripping over your fingers and if you weren't so needy to have him inside of you you'd drop to your knees and have him fuck his cum down your throat. he matched your pace, rubbed your clit a little faster until your nails were sinking into the skin on his shoulders and your thighs tried to clamp shut.

"steve." it was a choked gasp, a desperate plea and his cock pulsed again, stomach muscles tightening as he tried to hold off his orgasm. he was so close, both of you knew it but he wanted to fuck you, needed to be inside you when you both came and that wouldn't happen if he let you keep fisting at his cock the way you were now. he pressed kisses across your neck, over your jaw before slotting his lips messily over yours, curled his fingers around your wrist to pull your hand away.

"turn around for me," he helped with his hands on your hips, shifted both of your bodies so the shower sprayed against his back and not on you. your hands automatically came up to steady yourself against the slick tiles, cheek pressing into the cool surface as steve settled himself behind you. he was careful in knocking your feet a little further, widening your stance for him while tugging your ass back against his cock. "so fucking pretty, y'know? you have no idea how lucky i got with you."

he dipped his head, pressed wet, open mouthed kisses to your already damp and flushed shoulder, one hand still gripping your hip while the other wrapped around his aching cock. he squeezed the tip, gave a few sure strokes before he pressed his hips flush to your ass, rocked them so his cock teased through your folds, bumped your clit with head spinning pleasure. he did it again, and again, and again until you whined and pushed back against him, turned your head with slightly pouted lips.

“steve, don’t tease.”

"m'sorry, baby." he kissed your pout away, pressed the head of his cock to your dripping hole and within one thrust he was buried inside of you, your walls clamping around him like a vice. you moaned directly into his mouth and steve swallowed the sound with a groan of his own, his fingers tightening on your hip as pleasure raced through him. he held himself still for a few moments, focused on kissing you, on sliding his free hand down your stomach and between your open legs. he easily found your clit, hot and throbbing and begging for attention and you squeezed around him when he rubbed two fingers over it.

steve finally moved, pulled almost all the way out of you before pressing back in, his mouth still latched on to yours as he found a slow but leg shaking rhythm. mind numbing pleasure shot through you, had your pussy fluttering around steve's cock and you knew neither of you were going to last very long. he was already moaning into your mouth, the movement of his fingers on your clit messy but oh so perfect.

he kept his thrusts slow at first, lazy drags of his cock against your slick walls while he toyed with your clit, working you closer and closer to your release. his lips left yours and your head fell so you could press your forehead against the cool tiles, soft whimpers filling the glass shower each time steve's cock filled you up. you were dripping around him, completely soaking his cock and balls and it was driving him insane, the tight warm hole he'd buried himself into making his head spin. he tucked his face into your neck, nipped and sucked at your already somewhat marked skin and let the sounds of your moans and his cock pounding into you push him closer to his own orgasm.

"you gonna cum for me? c'mon pretty girl, cum on my cock, you're doing so well." his praise made your head swim, made your walls flutter around him and in response steve picked up the pace of his thrusts, pressed his chest flush to your back and fucked himself into you. he rubbed your clit faster, his fingers leaving your hip to instead cup your boob, pinching and rolling your nipple as you arched. “y’like that? hmm? like it when i tell you how good you’re doing?”

you nodded, whimpered pathetically and dropped one hand from the wall, reached around for steve’s thigh and let your fingers grip on to his skin. your nails scratched at his thigh and he hissed, fucked you a little harder and groaned a little louder. you were so close, teetering on the edge of your orgasm and your legs felt weak, pleasure coiling deep in the pit of your stomach. steve moved a little and water started splashing against the both of you, the hot sting against your sensitive skin making you shudder.

“m’gonna cum, please, steve, gonna cum.” it was a babble and a moan all at once, your grip on steve’s thigh harsh enough to leave behind marks and you weren’t even sure what you were begging for, your boyfriend was already determined to make you cum. he groaned in your ear because you’d tightened so much around him he’d started to go a little light headed, your pussy already starting to milk his cock. he pumped his hips a little faster, made you jolt against the wall and with a few extra flicks of his fingers over your clit you came, a high keening moan making his thrusts stutter.

steve had to curl his arm around your waist and press your body into the tiles to keep you upright, your walls squeezing and clenching around his cock as your orgasm rippled over you. it was harsh and intense, thigh shakingly good and every nerve in your body felt as though it was on fire, your ass pushing back against steve to take as much pleasure as you could. you’d soaked his cock with your cum, made a mess of both of you and the feeling of you pulsing and gushing around him had his own orgasm rushing in.

“fuck, baby, keep squeezing me like that, god you’re fucking perfect.” he gripped your hip, fucked himself into you a few more times as his cum filled you up, coated your walls and had you whining softly. steve’s moans were high and whimpery, muffled by the skin of your neck as he hid away, hips pushing a little too forcefully into yours. you were both gasping for air, chests heaving and it was almost embarrassing how the both of you were slumped into the wall, your hands the only things keeping you up. it took a few seconds but steve’s thrusts finally came to a stop, his cum pushed completely into your pussy, just how he liked and he dropped a cluster of soft kisses to your shoulder.

“that was-“

“yeah.” he laughed a little breathlessly, brushed his thumb over your ribs from where his hand was settled and it sent a flutter through your chest. he kept his chest stuck to your back as you leant your cheek into the tile, thankful for the chill it spread over you and hummed when steve started kissed the side of your face. “you okay?”

“m’great.” your lashes were fluttering, eyes growing heavy and steve grinned, nuzzled into the side of your face as he pulled out of you.

“think you can turn around for me? need to let me get you cleaned up.” he frowned when you shook your head, his tummy twisting a little at how completely fucked out you were and he hated that he had to leave for work. he’d do anything to spend the day in bed with you, fucking you over and over until this expression was imprinted into his mind.

“s’okay, you need to hurry or keith will have you stacking shelves until midnight.” you sent him a somewhat sleepy smile and giggled when he kissed your face again. “i can clean myself up.”

“don’t be silly, let me take care of you, i’m already gonna be late anyway.”

#stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #joe keery #joe keery one shot #joe keery fic #joe keery smut #joe keery x reader #joe keery fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic

[prettyarson]

You Wouldn’t

featuring: fae!scaramouche x human!reader

cw/tw: bully!scara, hair pulling, crying, faeries pull tricks

synopsis: the faerie world is no place for a human to be

notes: honestly, i’ve been reading the folk of the air series by holly black and just couldn’t get it out of my mind bye

—

You mentally cursed yourself. You always found yourself in this situation.

Bound on the dirt ground, snickers and laughter echoed through the forest dome. The berries around your neck did little protecting to the faeries’s tricks and jokes. And you always found yourself as the punchline.

Being a human in the fae world was full of beautiful, lavishing danger. You knew this world was no good for you; the glamour, the beauty, and the intoxicating pull that keeps you close. You were vulnerable to all of it. And yet, you couldn’t stay away. It was so intoxicating, addicting.

“The dirt fits you.” A dashingly, devious voice spoke, laughter bubbling in his throat, “After all, it’s where your kind are born to end.”

Looking up through your lashes, you drowned in indigo hues. Scaramouche was the most gorgeous faerie that you ever laid your mortal eyes upon. Pearly, iridescent fangs taunted into a smirk that paired perfectly with the rioting look in his eyes.

Ever since you stumbled upon the faerie world —who would have guessed that stump would move?— his undying attention was sewn into messing with you. Most of his tricks were harmless, but he always had a sharp tongue. His words, edged like knives, were his worst weapons against you.

But you never faltered. Your eyes only turned into a glare as you stared up at him. You slowly lifted yourself until you were sitting comfortably. Then you dusted yourself off, purposely tossing the grains towards his shoes.

“Actually, all of my family is cremated.” You tsked, keeping your deep gaze to the fae before you.

His smirk fell, tying and twisting into a scowl. You always seemed to get on his nerves. You always seemed to slither below his skin. And he let you.

“Would you like me to reunite you?” He scoffed, taking a few small steps towards you.

You used to flinch. You used to cower away. You used to stumble over your feet at you ran away.

But not anymore. You stood your ground.

Pushing yourself up from the dirt, fist clenched, you remained eye contact.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You sneered, taking a few steps to match his. “You don’t have it in you to kill me.” You hoped you were right.

There was a flash in his eyes before he closed the distance, chests pressed together. Scaramouche’s hand flew towards your hair and grabbed a handful, tugging harshly. A hiss of pain pried your lips open.

“Just look at you.” He cooed, “I could crush your mortal head with just one squeeze.”

Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, the pain growing with each tug of a strand connected to your scalp. You hoped he couldn’t feel your body trembling against his.

But he could.

The fear your face morphed into had his movements vaulting. There was a hitch of his breath as a race of tears battled down your cheeks. Within a breath, his grip on your hair vanished.

You felt your head lull forward as the locks fell back into place. Shock consumed you, swallowing you whole. You dared not to look back at the fae, but temptation was a dastardly thing.

Peeking through your thoughts, you scanned the devious fae. His eyes were wide, filled with confusion and shock, but only for a brief moment.

“W-What are you crying for, ya baby?” He choked out, quickly taking a few steps back and crossing his arms. He wouldn’t look at you.

You were quick to defend yourself as you jumped up, “I’m not crying!”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he reached inside of his pocket and withdrew a lilac handkerchief. Scaramouche outstretched it towards you, a creeping blush rampaging his pointed ears and graceful cheeks.

He cleared his throat and spared you a quick glance.

“Clean yourself up.”

Once you didn’t reach to take the soft fabric, he lightly placed it atop your head. Heat engulfed your cheekbones into flames and you couldn’t help the way your eyes followed his movements in wonder.

Your fingers grasped the handkerchief tightly and hugged it to your chest. He watched you expectantly, waiting. Then slowly, you lifted it towards your face and lightly brushed the dried up tears.

Satisfied, he turned and began to descent further into the forest. Footsteps echoed through your ears as he crunches through leafs and branches. And you just watched him leave, holding tightly onto the handkerchief.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer #genshin scara #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche