#and he gets a dark-haired actor every time?

[blueywrites]

Imagine asking Eddie hitting it from behind and you surprise him by begging to put it in your ass for the first time. Man barely makes it without immediately busting.

a little twist to your prompt! I had a sudden vision 😌

When you arrive on set, your stomach's a little twisted up with nerves - quite outside the norm for you, as you've been performing in these productions for a while now, and the thought of getting naked and fucking in front of a room full of personnel no longer phases you. But you've agreed to do an anal scene for the first time, and now you're a bit nervous for it. At least, you're nervous until you get close enough to see your costar - with his robe hanging low off one pale tatted shoulder, dark hair left to fall wild around his shoulders, his brown eyes cocoa-warm when they meet yours and he offers you a little wave in greeting.

Eddie.

You're glad it's him. He's funny and charismatic, and he never takes himself too seriously, which is refreshing compared to most actors in this industry. During scenes, he's flexible and responsive, always adapting quickly if you deviate off script a bit, and he seems to even enjoy it when you do. Likes it unpredictable, he says. Plus, he's vocal - and you like that. It genuinely turns you on, which makes the whole thing easier. Less of a performance that way.

After greeting Eddie with a bright smile, you're whisked away by your team. They get you prepped with makeup and hair and lube to ease your way later, and your nerves only come back just a smidge once you follow Eddie onto set and you both drop your robes, leaving you with nothing else to do but get in position and let the cameras start rolling.

"Hey." You turn at the sound of Eddie's gentle voice, pausing when you feel his fingertips clasp your elbow in a light hold. You thought you'd been masking you feelings well, but when you look up at him, his pouty lips are pulled into a soft, crooked smile. "Don't stress it, alright? I'll take care of you."

It's kind of him to offer reassurance, but that look in his eyes and that touch at your elbow and those words... It hits you more than just 'kind' should. I'll take care of you, and there's a flutter behind your ribcage, an omen of sweet, seductive danger, because he's your co-worker and that's why he's fucking you and you can't afford to feel some type of way about it.

But when he has you on all fours, folded up with your ass arched out, bouncing on the recoil as he hits it from the back... Shit. You know the transition is coming soon cause you've hit all the beats leading up to it already, and with how fuckin' wet he's made sure to get you, you're more than ready for him. You peek back at Eddie with your cheek pressed to the couch cushion, your breath huffing in little high-pitched whines as his hips clap against your cheeks and your pussy sucks him in on every thrust.

"Fuck, baby, feels so good," you simper, not entirely acting. And Eddie's supposed to reply with something like, 'Yeah, you like that? What if I put it in your ass?' But you don't give him the chance. Sweet and needy, breathily begging, you look up at him and continue, "Please, oh, please fuck my ass--"

"Fuuuuuuck," Eddie groans, and it sounds somehow both surprised and rehearsed at the same time, like maybe it started as a genuine reaction and he'd made a conscious effort to temper it back. But you've performed with him enough to know that new pinch in his brow means something's different this time. You can see it in his eyes too when you double down, whining out how much you need his big cock in your tight little asshole...

I'll take care of you. When Eddie pulls out, sinking into you in one smooth stroke, stretching you so abruptly full, making your eyes roll back at how fucking good it feels -- well, you fall just a little bit in love with him.

#blueysnaughtynights #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

[danikatze]

I really like how my Maurice and Alec turned out, much more like I pictured them in my head 🥰

Process gif under the cut! Also some thoughts on this scene.

I'm seeing a lot of love for the movie here on tumblr, and I'm sure it deserves it.. but I'm not a fan. Every movie adaptation needs to leave things out - I know that - but this scene specifically? Is so weirdly threatening. And mostly because they show Alec just. inviting himself in through Maurice's open bedroom window. Like, he sees Maurice hanging out of the window twice and assumes he was looking for some fun?

While in the book Maurice calls "come!!" into the night, on two separate occasions, himself not really understanding why. Alec was out an about both times. The first time he ignored it - the gentleman wasn't calling for him, was he? - but the second time he did feel like that could be the case. They completely leave that out in the movie. Seems important to me though? It refers to the recurring dream Maurice has, of a "friend" who will last him a life time. It refers to his desire for real love and companionship. And to then have Alec responding to it has so much meaning! Why omit that?

And then in the movie, the way Alec says "I know" as if he's saying "I know you're gay and if you don't let me fuck you, everyone will know too." Whereas in the book it felt more like "I know you're gay and that's alright, I'm going to take care of you," or something like that.

And then Movie Alec just starts off by smooching Maurice's chest.. it all feels super invasive. Very dubious consent ^^; But I guess I'm supposed to think nothing of it, cause when they wake up in the morning they're all cuddles and kisses. I personally would've liked to see that gentleness from the start.

I know the dubious consent part can be said about the book scene as well: Maurice didn't *actually* invite Alec in and he doesn't verbally consent to sleeping with him either. The atmosphere is just so different..

Anyway, I'm not judging anyone for liking the movie, I personally can't really stand it (at the moment: I thought it was acceptable ten-ish years ago when I'd read the book for the first time)

#maurice #maurice hall #alec scudder #em forster #danikunst #(I changed my art tag - a single word is easier) #warning: bit of a random rant up ahead lol #I'm weirdly miffed when characters in older books are described with dark hair #and then get cast by blonde people in the film adaptation - or vice versa #like. it happens so often that it makes me think that hair colour is supposed to say something about character #and that idea has changed over the years #Dorian Gray is an example that sticks with me - because there are a fair few movie/tv adaptations of The Picture of Dorian Gray #and he gets a dark-haired actor every time? #don't we still view blonde curls as ''angelic'' and don't we associate it with innocence? #which is exactly the vibe Dorian is supposed to give off? #What is up with that? :) #2

[andthebeanstalk]

THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO IS BLACK.

HE IS SUPPOSED TO BE BLACK. 10 MINUTES OF RESEARCH WILL TELL YOU HE IS WRITTEN BY A BLACK MAN AND BASED ON THAT MAN'S BLACK FATHER.

SO HOW IS THERE NOT EVEN ONE SCREEN ADAPTATION WITH A BLACK COUNT?!?!?

IT IS 2023. THE MEDIUM OF FILM IS 128 YEARS OLD. I HOPE THE NEXT PERSON TO GREENLIGHT A WHITE EDMOND DANTES IS FRAMED FOR TREASON

#original #alexandre dumas #Thomas-Alexandre Dumas #The Count of Monte Cristo #edmond dantes #I just looked up every single actor I could find who's ever played this character on screen and guess what #no black men! where are they! how is there not even one?!?! #all I wanted was to watch a screen adaptation in which the character looks like how he was meant to look! #and now I don't know what to watch because I'm going to be aware the whole time that I'm watching a white man play a Black part! #also if you want to have a fascinating afternoon please research this man and his family history #his father was literally betrayed by Napoleon in real life #I get that when he is described in the book he is not explicitly stated to be black just that his hair and eyes are as dark as possible #but also this was a time of extreme racism in France and the man needed to sell his God damn book! but surely after 250 years #there could be one ONE proper fucking adaptation #he is described as having 'black eyes and hair as dark as a raven's wing' and his life experience mirrors the story of a famous irl man #who spent his life fighting for racial equality and was ultimately destroyed for it. #anyway while it isn't TECHNICALLY inaccurate for the count to be white it is wild that he is ALWAYS played by white men

[hairmetal666]

Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.

And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.

They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--

Steve Harrington is his bed.

They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--

They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.

They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.

Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.

Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.

Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.

They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.

After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.

He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--

"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.

"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.

Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.

Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or

It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--

Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.

Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.

He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."

Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."

They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.

There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.

"Stop," he whispers to Steve.

Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.

"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."

"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"

"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."

"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."

"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.

"Then we'll deal with it together."

"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."

--

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.

A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.

Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.

They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.

"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.

"Hey yourself."

"It's Bi Visibility day."

"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going

"I want to come out."

He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"

Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.

"How do you want to do it?"

He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.

They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.

Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.

The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.

Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.

He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"

"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.

"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"

Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #actors steve harrington and eddie munson #costars #hooking up #fluff #costars to lovers #idiots in love #feelings confession #coming out #bisexual steve harrington #it's not bi visibility day but i liked eddie using it as a come on #famous steve harrington #famous eddie munson #i don't totally know what this is

[inupibaldspot]

I don’t want to hide it!

Pairing : actor!Gojo x actor!Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Both you and Gojo are in the entertainment industry and one unspoken rule and maybe somewhere in the contract is that you can never reveal you are in a relationship | artcredit

You breathe out as you look out at the dark starry night, a haze comes into vision indicating how cold it actually was.

There was a buzz in your pocket making you reach into your jacket pocket and smile when the name popped up.

Satoru <3

I’m here,baby. 2:47am

Just then a dark car with also dark tinted glasses drives through and parks near you were standing. You quicken your footsteps as you wave at him. “Don’t come outside.”

“Sorry.” Of course he doesn’t listen. “What did you say?” Gojo steps out of his car as he quicken his steps to you; he was dressed in black from head to toe, with a hat trying to hide his hair and a mask to hide his face. Just like you.

You both were always public’s eyes afterall. Gojo was a singer turned actor who was probably in him prime. You were also an actress,about three years into debut yet you had a huge impactful movies under your name.

Gojo’s hands go over to the door handle of the car and opens it for you, his other hand wraps it to your back as he holds you in. His masked lips places a kiss on your forehead. “You look so divine, babe.”

You laugh. “Even though I’m covered like this.” You bring your hands up where you then place your chin on your hand.

“Of course.” Gojo nuzzles closer. “I can recognize that fat ass anywhere.”

“Gojo!” You shriek out, as you puff at Gojo’s words. The man laughs as he pull away when you are sat in place and closes the car door. He then walks over and sat on the drivers seat.

As soon as his butt hits the car seat, his first reaction is to pull down his mask as he leans into you and places a kiss on your lips, your mask pulled down by his left hand. Your heart takes a leap and you press your lips to his. Instantly, Gojo cradles your face, refusing to separate from you.

Gojo doesn't stop, sensuously kissing every available surface of your lips until he's tired of waiting to kiss your lips once more. You give in and let yourself fall until the point of no return - even if Gojo was the devil incarnate, you would gladly hand over your soul for an eternity of his love.

Building up every once of strength in you, you hold onto his jacket and pull away from the kiss. You blush when Gojo looks at you, face smeared with lipstick. “We shouldn’t stay here for long. We could get caught!”

Gojo growls as his feet place on the clutch and break before driving with the gears in place. “I don’t get why we have to hide it. Our contract has nothing restricting us.”

You sigh. “You know we don’t know how the public will react…” 

Gojo said eyes at you and sees that your eyes were lowered and you were nervously playing with your own fingers. Shit…he made you feel bad.

He forces a smile and places one of his hands on your thigh making you look up at him. “So princess, are you gonna tell me what you’ve been doing today.” He asks.

You smile, the tense air finally dissipates. “I had to shoot an ad at 6am and then a 13 hour shoot in the woods for my new movie.”

“Shit babe.” He says concerned, both his hands on the steering wheel as he makes a turn and parks the car. They were in a secluded area by the river side. “You sure you don’t need to sleep?”

You shake your head as you place one of your hands on Gojo’s face, lips curled into a small. “I want to spend my time with you. Besides, I was taking cat naps in between sets.”

“So what were you doing,my prince?“ Gojo smiles at your words.

“I was watching the avatar the whole day.”

You laugh “yeah?”

“Oh—that’s right!” You clap your hands together as you look at him. “Tomorrow we are scheduled to emcee at that music show.”

“I think I did hear something like that from Ijichi.” Gojo taps his temple when his finger as he remembers his manager in tears begging him to listen. “But I didn’t know we were partners.”

“Satoru…you have to be careful on stage.” You peer in close to him face, eyes begging him to listen. “Don’t be obvious.”

Gojo leans in quick as he pecks your lips making you blush in surprise. “Fine. What ever you say, princess.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next day,you nervously bite the inside of your cheeks as music blasts in the background; all eyes were focused on the idol group performing right now. Beside you,stands tall Gojo Satoru who has a glow near him as he mentally gushing on how adorable you looked, all dolled up and ready for the camera—so pretty.

Ijichi nervously bits his thumbs,all nervously. The company including him knew about Gojo’s relationship with you, at first the company tried to threaten him to break up with you but then Gojo threatened them back with termination of contract. The company can’t afford to lose their main money maker! So they decide to let the relationship stand but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t beg and pay every paparazzi to not release any pictures.

With every look and smile Gojo gave to you Ijichi’s job was on the line.

Suddenly a different type of music was playing making all idols make way toward you and Gojo; an interview session were to take place.

“Welcome back—!” You smile at the camera then at the ground where the members smiled and bowed back. So pretty.

“Oh my!” You smile cheerfully at the idols who await your expression. So pretty.

“That was such a show! The performance struck right through our hearts!” You smile and look at him, his blue eyes into your. Gojo almost can’t breathe. So pretty.

“Right Gojo-san?” So pretty.

Your beautiful face contours slightly as he takes on a worried expression. “Right Gojo-san!” Oh—right… He was Gojo.

You gulp hard as you quickly look to the idols, “it seems as if Gojo-san is still in awe from your performance.” making the audience laugh. From then on Gojo tried to act normal—he really did! But every time you speak, he is giddy with emotions.

Somewhere in between nervous laughs and in this case, chewing on his nails; a man rushes to him. Breathing heavy as he places a hand on Ijichi’s shoulder. “We’re fucked…”

Ijichi gulps.

The man who came up to him, one of Gojo’s managers lift up his phone where what is written on the screen.

[⭐️EXCLUSIVE] Actor Gojo Satoru and y/n on a date!

There were pictures of you, who was slightly unrecognizable from all the cover up of clothes but there was a mole on your body with could be traced back to you.

There was another picture where Gojo comes out of the car, this one surely couldn’t pass. There was a peak of his white hair slipping through hat, and his blue eyes ever so recognizable. The freaking paparazzi even routed how Gojo’s car went from his residence to yours at such odd hours!

And finally the nail in the coffin where he takes you home hands by your waist, with you nuzzled into his jacket waddling forward with a peak of lipstick smeared on his face. A lipstick shade you’ve been always seen wearing during casual days!!

Ijichi grabs his hair before his phones buzzes…an endless buzz which will probably cost him his job.

Now the audience seemed to buzz, showing each other this exclusive new of the people who are literally right infront of them. How entertaining! The mass now seemed to take various pictures in real life by the audience and others screenshoting the music show you guys were emceeing, all obviously trying your best.

Then another posts starts posting on all the gossip post with Twitter having a field day with it in particular.

[⭐️Hot!] Gojo Satoru can’t really seem to get enough of y/n! Hahahaha

The post contains pictures of Gojo staring lovingly at you when you were emceeing, when you laugh he laughs, when you smile he blushes.

The comments under the post was entertaining though.

User128

What ever he is being accused of, he is guilty.

Bbystru

Ahhh—he is definitely a shojo male lead

User827

The company doesn’t even need to say anything! The proof is infront of our eyes.

Luvie28

Wow! Gojo is so funny! y/n is working so hark to make up for it.

The company of Gojo fell into despair because at how the stocks where falling for the company, they were mildly surprised and extremely pleased when the stocks went flying up and up— because after the pictures went viral; it seemed even overseas, there were a whole new audience now interested in their love sick actor!

Mean while Gojo was simply happy he didn’t have to hide their relationship, no more stuffy dates all covered up, no more keeping 100m distance from you in public places and no more hiding your lipstick stain over his lips and peppered all over his neck, to his chest and maybe even lower.

Who knows maybe he even show up on the red carpet like that one day.

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? Check out other here

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo imagines #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo saturo #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo fluff

[evie-sturns]

𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐦 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

summary: you and chris havent seen eachother in a few weeks, he invites you round. watching a movie together in his living room, he starts getting touchy on, and around your thigh.

warnings: nsfw, smut, teasing, swearing.

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

me and chris are keeping a safe distance on the couch a few inches away from eachother, awkwardly watching the movie.

its been a few weeks since ive seen him, he's really busy filming and traveling and he knows its had an impact on me, i mean we had an argument over the phone yesterday, so these past few hours with him have been as though we just met -

"chris you barely have time for me anymore! ive started every conversation, me. and youve ended them." i yell through the phone on the brink of tears as he sighs deeply. "yeah y/n sorry im busy, sorry you're to blind to see that." he bites back through the phone. i assume the last thing he heard was my muffled sob before i hung up.

abruptly a sex scene flashes onto the tv, chris's breath hitches in his throat as he wipes his face. the actor on the screen reminds me of chirs, how he fucks, how his hair flops with each thrust. its turning me on.

i squeeze my thighs together, trying to relieve the ache thats forming between my legs. i see chris's eyes quickly dart over to me then to his lap. i rub my eyes as i try to distract myself.

without warning i feel chris's cold hand meet with my warm thigh, tracing circles on it. he knows what hes doing. his hand slide closer to just under my skirt, i feel just the tips of his fingertips graze the edge of my panties as he keeps rubbing my thigh. i accidentally let out a barley audible moan. chris digs his fingers slightly harder into my thigh as his pinky finger grazes my clit. "chris-.." i whisper "shh baby, you wouldnt want to miss the movie." he says teasingly as his hand creeps further up my thigh, by now my skirt has flipped up from chris's hand traces the waistband of my panties.

he rests one finger lightly on my clit, and i buck my hips up, trying to get more pressure. he rubs small circles on my clit, still not applying enough pressure. i let out a shaky breath as i try not to make noises. a large damp spot forms in the middles of my panties as he keeps circling my clit. "i cant.." i groan as i grip his dark-grey shirt and squirm on the couch. he grips my hand which is gripping his shirt and he moves it off of him. he places my hand on my breast. "more-.." i manage to squeeze out and thats enough for him to take his hand away from the outside of my panties. he grips my thigh and flips me over, im facing the headrest of the couch as he lifts me onto his lap. "fuck i missed this." he groans as he yanks my shirt off of me, discarding it somewhere across the room. i pull down his sweatpants just enough for his cock to spring out onto his happy trial.

his tip instantly becomes more red as my finger rubs his precum into his tip. without warning he stands up, keeping me propped up on his chest my my ass. he walks us over into his bedroom, which he clearly cleaned before i came over. he throws me down on his mattress pinning my hand above my head as he pulls my panties off, shoving them in his sweatpants pocket. "ya ready?" he says quietly as he pulls down his sweatpants a little more. "just go slow at first chris.." i say nervously "gotcha, its been a while so it might hurt a little." he reassures as he pushes his tip inside of me.

i instantly wince at the stretch as he pushes further inside of me. i grip his shirt for the second time tonight as he starts slowly thrusting, getting deeper each time. i let out loud moans "fuck baby, your so tight." he whispers into my ear as he picks up his thrusts. "im gonna c-" i warn "not yet baby." he says sternly as he thrusts deeper and faster "fuck not gonna last long with you clenching like that." he stutters as he goes faster.

"go on baby cum now, cum with me." chris says shakily as i instantly realease all over him "good girl oh my god.." he says pulling out and collapsing next to me. after a few minutes of laying in silence he stands up, pulling up his sweatpants. he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, my bare ass against his cheek.

i flail my arms and legs while laughing "chris!! put me down!" i giggle as he takes me into the bathroom. he bends down with all my weight on him and turns on the bath, once its full he gently places me inside the water.

"you're so pretty." Chris says breathlessly as he stares down at me.

--------------︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵-----------

yuuup hope yall liked this!

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

LIKE A GOOD GIRL

Pairing - Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

Summary - You're Cillian's assistant and he doesn't take it well when you ask him for some time off to go away with your boyfriend.

Warnings - Dark, stalker themes, obsessive, hand job, p in v, threatening, manipulation, naive.

Word count - 2.8k+

It started off with an unwitting smile on his lips, a new encounter that was able to make him feel more jovial when the intention was to purely oversee your concentrated work performance. A simple yet strict questionnaire which should have taken no more than 30 minutes turned into almost 2 hours of discussions with both of your joys and ambitions in life. Throughout the whole interaction, his blue eyes carefully lingering over your body, admiring the mix of proper and teasing that was your pencil skirt and blouse tucked in your tight fitted blazer. 

Mentally, Cillian hired you on the spot, but he had to make it seem more professional. So he waited until the next day to bear the good news. Shamelessly, he was awake all night replaying your encounter and widely smiled with excitement about how he was to have you as his assistant. 

Denial, complete denial Cillian was in about his obsession with you. You were just his assistant, nothing more but certainly nothing less. Your performance was exceptional, his schedule never overwhelmed him anymore and you created pathways for him to experience the greatest opportunities for his career and overall happiness. 

He dreamt of your curves, soft hair, luscious lips and mesmerizing eyes at night. Moaned out your name in his sleep as he humped the bed in vision of you being beneath him. Everytime he would wake to be hot and bothered, but he always blamed his hormones and lack of intimacy with his busy lifestyle. 

You were kind, innocent, thoughtful, selfless and fucking naive. Images of you bent over the desk, on top of him in the backseat or trapped under him always played in his mind. Sometimes he would find himself lost in your lips, immensely staring at their movements and the mental begging to have them wrapped around his length. 

When you’d ask if he was alright he’d blink back to reality and assure you he was. It always went over your head, you’d always tell him to lay down and rest up. But that was the last thought on his mind, as there were much more sinister things he wished to do, to you specifically.  

It was a consuming job, you knew it before you signed up for it. You’ve had your experiences in this league but never knew the lengths or how tiring and restrictive it could be at times. Cillian had a busy job, he suggested it was best if you always accompanied him (even though a lot of the time you could work from home). So you were always booking the next flight out. But Cillian was a kind boss, he’d always promise a night together each week to help the both of you to unwind. Always in some secluded restaurant or sometimes he’d even cook for you at home. 

Your relationship developed like quicksilver, sometimes you’d be on the phone call until late at night because secretly he just wanted to hear your voice. Working for him showed you how lonely an actor’s life could really be. Never getting a break to catch up with family or friends. You were thinking of organizing some time alone for him to relax, he deserved it. 

Innocent, it was always innocent encounters in his eyes. The line was never crossed by him. He kept his urges locked up, not because of the fear that it would be a public relations nightmare but because he feared he would eat you whole if he let himself have a taste of you. 

Sometimes Cillian would ask you to do the most bizarre tasks just to remind himself how dedicated you were to him. It was nice to remember how much control he really had over you. His heart would swoon whenever you’d surprise him on set with the food he was craving the night before, simultaneously to his cock twitching in his pants. Every time he’d have to rush off to the bathroom to jerk off his primitive urges to devour you right there in front of everyone.

It was almost midnight, and here you were, helping Cillian turn the house upside down for his passport. He had misplaced it and felt overwhelmed with not being able to find it before your flight tomorrow.  

The pair of you had checked all rooms of the house, you suggested backtracking his steps but it wasn’t much help. When you were in the kitchen, he slipped his passport out of his jacket pocket, a small smile on his lips. 

“Found it!” Cillian called out, smiling like a deviant teenager. 

Shortly after, your footsteps were heard as you approached his study. “Where was it?” You asked as your head poked around the corner, a relieved expression settling in. 

“Underneath my script” he lied perfectly. 

“Oh” you murmured, eyebrows scrunching slightly. You could have sworn you checked there. 

Cillian raised his watch to his eyesight and lightly gasped. “Gosh, it’s so late darling. I didn’t even realize the time” he apologized. You waved your hand to him in a dismissive manner. 

“Oh, don’t stress about it. It’s all a part of the job” you reassured as you softly rubbed your arms, your tired eyes blinking heavily. 

Cillian smiled at you and took a step closer to you. “Did you want to stay the night? I feel so guilty having you drive out here. You can keep your car here and we’ll swing by yours for your luggage” Cillian offered, completely painted with innocence and kindness.

“Oh, no it’s alri-”

“I insist” he flashed a wide smile, his tone trickling of demand rather than hospitality.  

“Okay, sure” you nodded your head in complete agreement. Completely oblivious to the true colors of his offering. 

It wasn’t the first time you’ve stayed over. A couple of times you had too much wine and passed out in his guest bedroom, completely unaware of his lingering dark eyes that stood by the door for hours. He wanted to touch you, he truly did, but was too afraid he’d never be able to stop. So he resulted in pumping his shaft in his trousers, biting his tongue harshly to hold back his moans. 

“I was actually wondering if I could ask you a question” you smiled softly. 

Cillian hummed and gestured for you to continue on and you did. Immediately, Cillian’s stomach was hollowed out. All over a simple, innocent question on your behalf. But, he felt like you had betrayed him, committed treason over your relationship. His body went stiff, blood boiled as teeth almost cracked from how harshly he clenched his jaw. 

Time felt like it went still, as all of these negative emotions fireballed in his mind. 

“So?” You asked, your eyebrow cocked up and sweet smile locked on. 

“Sorry, what was that again sweetheart?” Cillian asked blankly, trying to hide his true thoughts, wanting to pretend that he didn’t know what you just asked in desperate hopes you could read him. Mentally demanding that you correct your mistake but you were still just as naive from the moment he met you. 

“Am I able to have some time off? It’ll be three days max. Samuel really wants to take me away on a surprise getaway, he’s been going on about it for months”

How long have you even had a boyfriend? Cillian never asked, the idea of it was too aggravating for his ego. But you never even mentioned him to Cillian. He thought you guys were closer than that, no he knew you were, how could you hide this from him? 

“Who’s Samuel?” Cillian frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Oh! My boyfriend! He admires your work and would love to meet you one day, I think I may have hyped you up too much… But he’s a playwright” you explained yourself in a cheerful manner, almost giggling. 

There was a silence which quickly turned awkward when you noticed his eyes twitch. You cleared your throat and looked away from him slightly as you rubbed your arm anxiously. Cillian took a large step towards you and threw his passport carelessly onto his desk. 

“I don’t think I can approve of your leave” Cillian answered, emotionlessly. 

Perplexity filled your thoughts as the tension quickly brewed in the study. You had to clear your throat once more and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck. 

“Oh, really? Um, can I ask why?” You asked, your voice cracking slightly as he took another step towards you. 

“It just doesn’t sit right with me” he spoke in a low tone. 

“Pardon?” Your eyebrows scrunched at him. 

“I don’t like the idea of not knowing how safe you are, you’re better in my care” he answered simply, shrugging his shoulders lightly. 

You snorted at him and shook your head. It all made sense now, he was just feeling a little too overprotective over you. It made sense, the pair of you had spent so much time together these past few months, you cared for him too. Cillian stood directly ahead of you, looking down to you with a tilted head.

“Cillian, I appreciate the thoughtfulness but I’m a grown adult” you reassured, your hand touched his bicep and he grunted. 

Cillian considered his next argument, nodding to himself when he decided he would say it. “Well maybe I also don’t like the thought of him fucking you” he continued on. 

You hand shot back from his arm and you took a step back, your expression flashed with horror as you stuttered. 

“Sorry?” You whimpered, stepping back every time he took a step closer to you. 

“Why would I allow you to go away to get fucked? Whilst I’m confined here, all alone with nothing but my hand” Cillian frowned, tilting his head further to the left as he quickly moved towards you and blocked the doorway. 

Your footsteps swung around as you found yourself stepping backwards to the desk. 

“Where is this coming from?” you gasped, your hands planted on the wooden edge. 

“Do you know what you do to me?” Cillian asked blankly, his eyes boring into your skull. 

There was no answer from you, so he closed the distance, he gripped harshly onto your wrist and brought your hand to his crotch. A heavy cry escaped your mouth at the stiffness in his jeans. Cillian’s eyes rolled back as he moaned out, his hips flexing forward. 

“Can you feel that?” Cillian moaned, slowly rubbing your hand over the tent in his pants. 

“Cillian” you whined, paralyzed in fear. 

“That’s what you fucking do to me” he grunted, pressing your hand firmly over his erection. 

“M’sorry” you whined pathetically, eyes swollen red with tears as your body trembled. 

Cillian rubbed your heated cheek with his free hand and pouted to you. He tsked at you as he patted your cheek in unison to his sounds, his dark stare frightening. 

“Don’t be sorry… But you have to fix it, okay?” He ordered softly, sweetly. 

“What do you-” you blubbered, knowing what he did imply. 

“Touch my cock baby” he smiled innocently. 

“N-no” you shook your head.

His hand swiftly wrapped around your neck as he pressed you against the desk, you cried out in pain and fear and Cillian grinned at you. The hold around your throat warned you to obey him. 

“You’ll do as I fucking tell you” Cillian growled, his grip tightened as his teeth flared at you. You nodded your head quickly and he released your throat. 

His hands gripped onto both sides of your face, his breath fanned over your mouth as his voice dropped to a whisper. 

“Does he fuck you good?”

“Cill-”

He repeated his words slowly, each one dripping with jealousy and anger. You sniveled under him as he breathed slowly, waiting for your answer as he gently humped his hips against yours. 

“Uh! I don't know” you stammered out. The overwhelming clouds stormed over your thoughts.

“Naughty girl… I thought I made it clear you were mine” he tsked at you. 

His hands fell to your waist, his thumbs rolled circles as he lifted you onto the desk. Spreading your trembling thighs, your skirt raised and his slender digits slid down to your core. 

“Cillian please!” You cried out. But you were too fearful of the outcome of trying to push him off of you. 

“I am your boss, you’ll address me as sir” he demanded, his forehead pressed against yours. 

“S-sir please stop. I’m sorry” you begged as his fingers toyed over your covered pussy. 

“Why did you never tell me huh? Little fucking whore” he spat at you. 

One hand pulled your panties to the side as the other rolled over your wet folds. Biting back your moan, your tears flooded down your flustered cheeks and Cillian grinned at you darkly. 

“Never thought of me at night? Never thought of us?” Cillian taunted, a digit pushing itself into your tight canal.

Shamefully you did, but he was your boss and he was so much older than you. It felt so wrong every time your fingers found its way into your panties when you were all alone in bed. 

“Sir please” you moaned out, your eyes rolled back slightly as you sniffled to him. 

“I think you liked the idea of being mine, but were just too subconscious, am I right?” Cillian cocked an eyebrow to you as he slipped another finger inside of you. 

Your head nodded rapidly as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, your arms wrapped around his back whilst you cried against him. Cillian hummed, gradually picking up the speed inside of you as your moans were muffled and the shaking hold tried to still itself. 

“You’re going to touch my cock, alright? Then I’m gonna fuck you. After that, if you’re a good girl, I’ll eat you out. Maybe before our flight you can suck my cock, eh?” Cillian grinned as he slipped his fingers out of you. 

There was no reply from you as he quickly pushed his pants and underneath to his knees. You were too afraid to look down, but you could feel him stroking his size against your inner thigh. Cillian kissed your ear then nuzzled his nose against your hair. 

Shakingly, one of your hands let go of his back and reached for his length. You squeaked when you felt his firm shaft that dripped of precum. If you didn’t want to look before, you certainly didn’t know, he felt massive, your hand could hardly wrap around the girth. 

“You’re okay sweetheart, just breathe” Cillian coached you as you slowly ran your hand up and down his length. 

Cillian moaned out as you took his advice and focused on your breathing. Blinking back your tears, your thumb rolled circles around his moist tip. As he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his hips jerked forward, his arms holding your body possessively. 

Roughly, he moved you back up further on the table and took his cock back into his hand. Cillian guided your legs around his waist as he ripped your panties in half. You cried out, your arms wrapped around his neck in fear as he lined his cock to your gushing entrance. 

“Need to fuck you” he whined out. 

There was no moment of preparation, he forcefully pressed himself inside of you. Completely bruised himself between your clenching walls after a few thrusts. You cried out, your fingernails unintentionally dug into the skin around the back of his neck. 

“Fuck!” Cillian hissed out. 

Despite how badly he wanted to rest inside of you, his animalistic urges took over his thoughts. At high speed, his thrusts painfully stretched your cunt as you moaned out, panting for a steady breath. Cillian kissed your neck, then bit your neck. His teeth dug into your skin as he desperately wanted to mark you as his. 

“Shit baby, I want to stay buried inside of you forever” Cillian whimpered as his thrusts quickly turned runny. 

Your teeth flared as you tried to blink back your tears. The pressure against your core was growing rapidly as he hit your bundle of nerves repetitively without even trying. Cillian cried out everytime your walls squeezed his cock. 

“Fuck it, gonna fuck you all night. Can’t believe I tried to deny this, deny us. You’re mine, all fucking mine. Ever speak of that fucker’s name again, let alone talk to him, then I’ll ruin you darling. You’ll take care of me during the day and at night, won’t you baby?” Cillian asked, pulling your head back to look at him. 

There was no other choice in the matter, you nodded your head to him as you felt your climax climb to the edge, you’d do as your boss told you to do, like the good little girl the both of you knew you were. 

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #smut #dark smut

[rebelfell]

actor!steve x assistant!reader x rockstar!eddie

cw: fingering (fem receiving) 1k 18+, MDNI

The Vanity Fair party…it haunts me…

“She looks so pretty tonight. Doesn’t she, Ed?”

Steve’s hot breath hit the shell of your ear as he held you pinned against him. He was pressed so firmly into your back you could feel every button on his dark gold shirt, every shiny stone on the chain that hung around his neck, every strand of dense chest hair that peeked out from beneath his collar. His hands squeezed tight around your waist to hold you steady, his hips moving in a filthy grind in time with the bass vibrating the floor beneath your feet.

Shivers ran down your back as stubble rasped against the nape of your neck, his voice as rough and coarse as the scruff that dusted his jaw. In front of you, Eddie’s teeth tugged back his plush bottom lip as he bit back a lustful smile seeing you squirming in your formal wear.

“Oh, yeah, Stevie. Just gorgeous…” 

Eddie hummed to himself as his eyes roved over you and his knuckles traced the neckline of your gown, making your skin fizz like the champagne flowing freely in the next room.

One of his chunky silver rings flicked your nipple that stood rigid behind the sparkly stretch fabric, earning him a sharp inhale from you that had his eyes lifting to meet yours. 

They danced with pure mischief, his rich brown irises all inky darkness in the low light.

The slinky black dress Steve picked out for you and left in your hotel room still felt more like a costume compared to what you typically wore running around the city doing his errands. It was simple, not remotely as ornate or elegant as the custom-made designer ones being photographed by hundreds of paparazzi.

Still, the material draped nicely around your body and the slit that ran up one side showed off a decent amount of leg. The salacious cut initially made you balk, but you found you rather liked it after all—especially now as it granted Eddie’s hand access to your bare skin, the soft pads of his fingertips running slowly up your thigh until he reached your hip and groaned when he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

All night you’d been running around in a near constant panic, just trying to navigate the event without getting in anyone’s way. And all your efforts had led you here—tucked into some dark corner, between your boss and his best friend.

The heat of their bodies encasing yours and the mixture of their colognes in your nose made you lightheaded in the best possible way. Your chest heaved as you inhaled deeply, trying to keep your wits about you as it was so easy to lose them when it came to these particular men. 

This was hardly your first time messing around with them, but their intensity never failed to steal your breath. It had been such a long night already, and it seemed it only would be getting longer.

Only Eddie had actually attended the ceremony. Corroded Coffin had been nominated (again) for the work they did on a score, just to lose (again) to whatever summer blockbuster had swept all the awards. He would have blown it off entirely except this year he’d also been drafted to do a surprise guitar solo during Ryan Gosling’s performance of “I’m Just Ken.”

It was already trending everywhere, everyone calling it the highlight of the night. Just another day in the life of the legendary frontman.

Steve, as usual, showed up to the afterparty with his hairy tits out to do some brief and semi-chaotic interviews while you dutifully shuffled along behind him with the rest of the assistants and publicists. Except when they were dismissed for the evening, their jobs done, you found yourself being dragged from the crowd, pushed up against a wall with his mouth covering yours.

“Thought I’d never get my hands on you,” he’d groaned, sounding practically feral in your ear. “Can’t wait to get this dress off you…maybe I should just tear it in half, huh?”

He grinned into your throat as he kissed his way down your neck and then back up to your lips, his teeth nipping lightly at your skin as he went. His mouth slid all and fast and rough against yours, like he was trying to mess up your lipstick.

You’d joked to him once that it was “fuck-proof” and he’d apparently taken that as a challenge.

That was how Eddie found the two of you when he grew bored of the party—hidden away in the far corner, your fingers all twisted up in Steve’s messy hair, his hands rucking up your skirt as he palmed your ass only to grip your waist and spin you around when he saw Eddie was watching.

The sight of him in his Tom Ford suit, a slimmer and sleeker cut than Steve’s slouchy seventies get-up, made your chest swell and your heart pound as he strode forward to cage you in between he and Steve’s bodies.

“She’s been working so hard all night,” Steve tutted as he took your earlobe between his teeth and raked them across the soft flesh. “I’d say she deserves a break, wouldn’t you?”

“Definitely,” Eddie groaned, his hand now fully beneath your dress, his fingers expertly dancing across the crease of your thigh until they found the warmth and wetness he sought.

You couldn’t help but gasp as Steve’s hands snaked around to press against your stomach, feeling how it quivered under his splayed palms as he gave a short thrust of his hips. Eddie’s nose brushed your cheek, his face getting as close to yours as he could without it actually touching it, your breaths mixing as his lips hovered in the space a kiss would occupy.

Legs like jelly nearly gave out beneath you, body held up only by Steve’s grasp as Eddie’s fingers slipped inside of you, fitting there like it was the only place they were ever meant to be.

Music that boomed over the speakers and the sounds of the crowd thankfully drowned out the moan you released from deep in your chest, your hands coming up to clutch at the lapels of Eddie’s suit and knocking diamond brooch pinned there to the floor. His lips were at your ear now, more shivers still rippling down your spine.

“Careful with the merchandise, sweetheart” he whispered, a coy smile curling across his lips. He leaned in closer, his cock now pressing insistently into your hip while Steve’s own was digging harder into the plushness of your ass.

“Yes, s-sir,” you whimpered and instantly let your hands fall to your sides.

“You better have them pull the car around, Stevie,” Eddie grunted, his face etched with a need that matched your own, his fingers reaching deeper inside of you, curling up to find that spot that had your knees buckling while his thumb rubbed tight circles around your clit.

“How’s that sound, honey?” Steve asked, his deep voice all warm and husky in your other ear. “That what you want? Are you ready for us?”

“God, yes—” you answered through your fog, lost in the sensations of their distinctive touch.

“Perfect.” Eddie smirked. “Time to take you to Paris, sweetheart.”

#if you think it looks longer now no it doesn't #that's what he said #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steddie x you #steddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things

[phas3d]

Celebrity Crush Opposite || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst

tw/cw :: body image, insecurities

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: you freak out over your celebrity crush only for him to look completely opposite from them. this is a different version of THIS post i made a long time ago, sorry it's so late! - I love this idea so much omggg the angst?? the hurt?? insecurities??? GIVE IT TO MEEEE

DRACO MALFOY (enemies)

He's always mocked you for stupid reasons, like how you write your "a"s or how you hold your spoon

Once again, he was making his way to your typical spot at lunch to make fun of you

As he scanned your table, searching for something to mock you form, he made contact with a photocard in your hands

"GOD I WANNA GET HIM PREGNANTTTTT!!!" You shouted loudly as you sobbed into your hands

Your friends, oddly enough, nodded along with you and respected your comment

Draco thought it was outlandish but he shrugged it off, his mind was too busy staring into the soulless piece of paper you were holding

One thing about Draco is that he's always been popular with girls in school, even if they thought he was ugly, he knew they would find him cute or at least his asshole personality would let people think they could "fix him"

But for some reason, this simple piece of paper put a knot in his throat as he felt a pang of insecurity strike in him

Surprisingly, he broke his streak of daily mocking as he sat at his table, disappointed and hurt

What hurt even hurt was the fact that you didn't even notice that he didn't mock you today

How could you not tell he's flirting with you!!! (he literally spat in your food one time and call you a fat pig)

As he went to bed that night, he stared at the ceiling, getting flashbacks of the photocard like he was a war veteran

The cute Asian man with dark hair was drastically different from Draco in every way

Race, hair color, eye color, body shape, everything!

He couldn't help but feel insecure in himself, after all you're one of his longest ever crushes

Genuinely thinks of dying his hair black until Lorenzo and Blaise beg him not to

TOM RIDDLE (friends)

You were one of the only people to understand Tom and his weird antics making you two become friends

In return for accepting his weird habits, he was forced to deal with yours whether he likes it or not

He skipped one of his classes in order to stay behind and work with Professor Slughorn on a new potion they were learning

You gave him your notes from class, a very common thing between you two except normally Tom was the one sharing notes

As he looked at your shit handwriting, he started to see a theme in it

All over your notebook were drawings of some random actor?

Tom doesn't know pop culture very well so he asked you who it was in your books

"Who??? WHO??!? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW MICHEAL B. JORDAN???" You said as your jaw hit the floor "HE'S THE FINEST MAN ON EARTH?!?!?!"

"Never heard of him."

"You're gonna hear me scream his name once I get my rose toy"

Tom has never been a big fan of anything popular since he strives to be different from everyone in every possible way

But for some reason, this interest of your in Micheal B. Jordan made him want to research him further

When you left, Tom instantly started to research Micheal B. Jordan until 3 A.M

For some reason, Tom felt upset? (He's jealous but doesn't even know he likes you)

He feels possessive, as if he should steal your notebook and rip out all your drawings of him and burn them

Actually... he might do that,

But, he can't help but compare himself to Micheal

In his head, he thinks it's because you said he the most handsome man ever,

But anyone with common sense could tell it was from him liking you

Tom doesn't change himself after this news though, he's not a pussy and knows he's fine already

But, he does hope that one day you can call him the finest man on Earth

MATTHEO RIDDLE (classmates)

Although he didn't know much about you, he's always wanted to

So when he heard you shout at the top of your lungs when you saw something on your phone, he was quickly interested

He's tried to get close to you multiple times by befriending your friends, going to your usual spots, and more

But for some reason, you two couldn't line up

So he decides to just walk up to you and ask you straight up what you're looking at and spark a converstation

He walks towards you as you spam your fist against the table

You begin to make gorilla sounds and bang your chest, "OO OO AHH AHHH OOOO AHHH!!!!!"

(inspo by my queen brittany broski)

Andddd he begins to take a step away.... He can't just walk back to his desk now since it will be awkward

So he continues to walk past you, slightly scared and weirded out by your behavior

He looks at your phone only to see a random singer with dark skin and locs

Mattheo didn't even need to check himself to know that he had no similarities to the celebretry that you love so much

And instantly, he's bummed to an extreme level

He's so used to being every girls ideal type that he can't stand the thought of the one girl that he ACTUALLY likes have the complete opposite taste of who he is

But that doesn't matter to him too much, since he's fully confident that he can get you to like him with some time

He's the only guy who I think would understand that it's just a celebrity crush and that it's not the end of the world

Because he knows he's hot

THEODORE NOTT (classmates)

Although he's a massive fuck boy, he still gets crushes every now and then, and you were his biggest crush yet

He's tried to flirt with you in the past, but he either stumbled his words or you just didn't understand what he was implying

So when he heard you across the room freaking out over some random actor, he was quick to run over and look

He got up so fast, doing his best to act natural as he pasts by your table

"For my birthday I want him to be oiled up with a bow on top"

Your crude humor was funny to him, he loved that you were unserious

As he passes by, he sees an older man with a fully grown beard and some wrinkles

He wouldn't be surprised if the man had children of his own that could ever be your own age

Although his face doesn't express much emotion, he couldn't hide how his eyes widened at that

He goes to his dorm and researches him to no end, finding out everything possible about the man only to get confused as to why you like him so much

It was a fully grown man with a wife and two kids, what appeal did he have?

Theodore is so lost and confused, he's not sure how to make you like him

He was hoping it would be Harry Styles, Chris Hemsworth, fuck it even Sam Smith - Because at least they were younger and looked attractive

But this was a fully grown man...

Theo feels so sad, thinking that he has no chance with you and sulks for the rest of the day

But his friends comfort him, reassuring him that he still has a chance with you since Theo could grow to be an old man with you

And that statement did make him blush a lil heehee

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (best friends)

Freaking out over hot people was something that he was used to girls in your grade doing

He never understood why people liked those different guys so much, but he didn't care since he basically looked like all of those celebrities in some way

But when he heard you playing the same edit audio over and over again, he needed to know who it was

And as he looked, he saw some random tan buff dude with a mysterious aura to him

You were basically drooling all over your phone

"I wanna stuff my face inbetween his man titties and suckle it like a starving baby"

Lorezno's brain was instantly able to picture that exact sentence, and he didn't like that at all

On instinct he cringes at your statement but laughs it off

As the day ends, he starts to overthink and compare himself to the guy you like so much

He was so much buffer, had a different skin ton, and even had a different hair color

Lorenzo has always been a bit insecure about his body since he was pretty lanky and lean which was the opposite of his friend group of Mattheo and Theo

He looks in the mirror whilst holding up a photo of of the random guy you like so much, picking himself apart

Once he finds out everything he needs to change, he breaks down first. but then gets to work

Pushing himself to fit your perfect type just so he can even have a sliver of a chance of being with you

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo x reader

[ladykailitha]

Spooky season is here and I was just thinking about that tiktok (maybe) of the couple at the haunted house where the guy pushes the girl onto the feet of the ax wielding haunt and then the girl and haunt have a conversation that ends with the girl chasing the asshole with the ax and the haunt happily following her.

But make that Steddie. Steve as the girl. Set between seasons 3 and 4, but in a world where Steve going on a date with a man is surprise not a thing of revulsion (as in people would surprised that he was dating a guy having been a ladies man in high school, but no one would give him shit about it). Because it's my sand box, damn it. I make the rules here!

*

Steve wasn't sure what possessed him to go on this date with Jeremy. He didn't like haunted houses. He had seen too many real horrors in his life be frightened of fake ones. But Robin said he could pretend to be scared and cling to the guy's arm, maybe even get a kiss out of it.

What he wasn't expecting was for it to actually terrify him. He was clutching Jeremy's arm the whole way through, chanting in his head "don't hurt them, it's not real." Over and over again whenever the urge to push the actors away or in one extreme case when they were in the haunted hospital break the doctor's nose.

The actor looked too much like Dr Brennan, and while the patient on the gurney wasn't a girl or even had shaved hair, but Steve's protective instinct went into overdrive. It took every ounce of self-will Steve had to keep clutching Jeremy's arm.

They finally hit a room that didn't look so bad. It had a wood floor and four garish statues, one in each corner. Their fog machine was working in high gear but seemed to collect around one figure in particular.

It held an ax over its head, its mouth open in a silent scream. The robes that gathered around its sandled feet were perfectly rendered in stone. The sleeves of the robe revealed a couple of bat tattoos on the right forearm.

Steve was entranced, he let go of Jeremy's arm for the first time since they started and took a step toward it.

It was then the actor jumped off his pedestal and swung his ax down.

Jeremy did the inexplicable. Maybe even outright despicable thing. He pushed Steve forward into the waiting arms of ax murder. Steve stumbled landing on the actor's feet.

"Whoa!" the actor asked. "Are you okay?" He put the ax down and helped Steve get to his feet.

"Did he really just shove me at you to save his own ass?" Steve asked in shock.

The actor cocked his head to the side. "That's what it looked like to me. I hope that was a friend and not a date..."

Steve winced. "Sadly, the latter."

"Fuck, dude," the actor said. He spotted the ax. "You want to get revenge?" He picked up the ax and handed it to Steve.

Steve laughed. "Hell yeah!"

He ran after Jeremy, very plastic ax in hand, the actor cheering him on.

The next room was holding Jeremy so that he wouldn't be split from Steve and gotten lost. It was full of evil clowns. Something that apparently Jeremy was terrified of, judging by the screaming he had been doing.

The actors spotted Steve coming at their prey with an ax and Eddie cheering him from behind, they immediately clocked what had probably gone down. They let Jeremy pass them and two of the clowns broke off to chase him out of the haunted house, gaining cast members with each passing room (still enough remaining to scare other patrons but obviously gaining a crowd to hound this guy.)

He exited the haunted house screaming obscenities at Steve and the actors. The crowd laughing and pointing. He got into his car and drove off.

The smile slid off Steve's face. "Fuck. There goes my ride home."

The ax murder laughed as all the other actors went back inside. He pulled off his hood to reveal a mess of dark brown curls and grey face paint around his eyes on his lips. "I've gotcha, big boy."

"Eddie Munson, right?" Steve asked when he finally placed the face.

"Aww," Eddie cackled. "You do remember me."

Steve scoffed. "Kinda hard to forget."

Eddie's grin grew big. "Duly noted." He scratched the back of his head. "I am sorry about the shitty date though."

Steve shrugged. "It turned out more fun then I thought it would."

Eddie cocked his head again. "True. It's not every day you get chase away a bad date with plastic ax."

Steve handed it back to him. "Shouldn't you be getting back? Won't the other patrons find it odd when the room is empty of scares?"

Eddie smiled slyly. "Who says I left my post unattended?"

Steve's eyes went wide. "How many more of the statues are actors?"

Eddie leaned forward into his space. "I'll never tell," he said sing-song.

Steve laughed.

"Just let me inform my boss I'm taking you home and clean up this makeup, I'll get you home, Stevie," Eddie said.

"You don't have to do that," Steve mumbled. "I'm sure I could call someone."

Eddie shook his head. "Nah, I've got you."

"Thanks."

Ten minutes later Eddie was back on the pavement standing next to Steve. He was back in his usual shredded black jeans and leather jacket. But he wore a denim vest over top of it.

"I like the vest," Steve murmured. "I like pins and things."

"Patches," Eddie said.

Steve hummed his confusion.

"The other things are patches," Eddie explained.

Steve smiled. "That's cool."

Eddie pulled up to Steve's house without asking for directions.

"Should I ask how you knew that?" Steve asked as he got out of the van.

Eddie just waggled his eyebrows as he got out of the van too.

"You gonna walk me to the door, Eds?" Steve asked with a smirk.

"These woods behind your house are pretty fucking scary, dude," Eddie said with a huff of laughter.

Steve just shook his head and bit his tongue to avoid saying exactly how much.

They got to his door and Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve's lips.

It was sweet and warm. "What was that for?" Steve asked, breathlessly.

"Isn't that what you do at the end of a date?" Eddie asked with a teasing grin. "Walk them to door and give them a kiss good night?"

Steve laughed. "Yeah. Yeah it is. Good night, Eds."

"Good night, Stevie."

Eddie walked to his van. "If you want to go on a date that doesn't end you chasing your date with an ax, you know where to find me."

Steve grinned. "I might just take you up on that. Provided it's not another haunted house."

"Don't worry, baby," Eddie said with grin. "I'm loyal. Just a one haunted house kind of guy."

Steve shook his head and unlocked the door. Before he close it behind him he could hear Eddie celebrating, cheering and hollering.

Robin was never going to believe him when he told her how his date went.

But that's okay. She was right. It was fun.

*

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @itsall-taken @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @vecnuthy

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #haunted house #bisexual steve harrington #steve's date is a jerk #eddie to the rescue

[nanaslutt]

Itafushi’s pov of this fic!!

ʚ note: this can be read separately, reader gets with Megumi’s dad in the fic above but not before plotting to leave Megumi alone with his long-time crush Itadori!! This is what went on with them while reader got with Megumi's dad ^.^

ʚ cont: college au, dorks in love, mutual pining, misunderstanding, tooth-rotting fluff, 1 kiss, Megumi is bad at having emotions, getting together

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Megumi kept his eyes on the door watching you walk out of the room until it clicked shut, leaving him alone in the dark with his long-time crush Yuji Itadori. Sighing as quietly as he could, he pressed his lips together and looked back to the screen, pretending to watch the confusing and quite frankly, awful movie. "I'm sure she'll be back soon," Itadori said, trying to cheer Fushiguro up.

Megumi looked at him confused, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'm not worried about it." He retorted, his eyes staying on Itadori's. "Oh! You just looked a little sad she left." Itadori explained while Megumi looked away to take a sip of his soda. "I get it! If my crush left in the middle of a movie I'd be pretty antsy too." Itadori giggled, trying to lighten the mood.

The pink-haired boy was not expecting the reaction that occurred instead. Megumi shot up from the headboard, leaning over his knees as he coughed and sputtered, choking on his soda. Itadori's smile faded in an instant, a look of worry plastered over his features as he placed his hand on the other boy's back, patting and rubbing it to help him out. "Woah, you okay??" Itadori exclaimed, reaching for his water bottle to hold out to Fushiguro.

Megumi couched into his arm, his other hand pushing against Itadori's hand that tried to hand him the water bottle as he peeked up at him from behind his arm. "You think... I like her?" Megumi asked, his sentence getting interrupted by small coughs as he looked at Itadori incredulously. Itadori kept his hand on Megumi's back, his expression twisting to a more confused one as he retracted his hand that held the water bottle. 

"Don't you?" Itadori questioned, finally removing his hand from Megumi's back. The dark-haired boy couldn't help but miss the warm touch of his hand already. Megumi shook his head in response, "What made you think that?" His tone was a little harsher than he meant it to be, but he was antsy to clear this confusion as quickly as he could. Especially because the one he liked was sitting in front of him, with the mindset that Megumi already had eyes for someone else.

"Well, it's just... you guys are together all the time. I mean she practically spends the night here every other day, doesn't she?" Yuji asked, both boys forgetting completely about the movie as they talked to one another, the voices of the actors droning in the backround. Megumi placed his head in his hands, the tips of his ears growing red before he dragged his hands from his face, looking up at Itadori.

"Yeah, but it's not like that. I think she spends the night here to see my dad getting water shirtless in the middle of the night anyways." Megumi groaned, one corner of his mouth turning down in a smile. Megumi wasn't expecting to hear the sweetest laughter he'd ever heard trickle into his ears. His eyes which had wandered to the blanket in front of him now made their way back to Itadori's cheerful and bright face as he giggled, his sharp teeth glowing under the light of the TV.

"Ah... that's good then," Itadori said, his words making Megumi look at him from the corner of his eyes, an almost unnoticeable blush spreading across his cheeks. "Good?" Megumi questioned, silently cursing himself for even asking. "Yeah, good," Itadori replied, not explaining any further, and Fushiguro wasn't going to press him. His face felt even hotter than before as he cleared his throat, running a hand through his soft hair as he leaned back and tried to relax against the headboard again. 

Just when Megumi thought they had gotten into watching the movie again; Megumi pretended to care about the plot, when really he was hyperfocusing on how loud the sound of his heartbeat was in his ears. "If I'm gonna be honest..." Itadori started, keeping his voice low, "I really like her..." Megumi felt his heart sink to his stomach, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to cry, and his face felt hot, would it be okay to excuse himself to the bathroom right now or would that be too obvious? Should he just hold his breath until he passed out instead? Should he-

"But I'm really glad she left." Megumi couldn't help but turn his head to look at Itadori, who was already looking at him. Itadori had an unreadable expression on his face, one Megumi was fighting to decipher. He contemplated whether or not to respond, but opted to stay silent and just gaze at the pink-haired boy softly, waiting for him to speak again if he would. 

"It's uh... nice to spend time alone with you," Itadori said, a nervous smile spreading across his face as he everted his eyes, rubbing the back of his head shyly. Megumi's eyes grew wide, a shiver running down his spine at his words. He wondered if his face was as red as it looked. Quickly, he placed the back of his hand in front of his face and looked away, his eyes trying to focus on the TV as he cleared his throat.

Yuuji's voice shocked him out of his thoughts again when he said, "Sorry, was that weird to say?" Insecurity laced in his voice, almost unrecognizable, but Fushiguro was observant. "No," Megumi said, turning his head even further away from the pink-haired boy as he stared at his door, feeling a set of eyes on the back of his neck. "I uh, like spending time with you too... alone." He replied, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Never in his life has he ever said such embarrassing words. Megumi felt his heart pound in his throat when he felt a dip in the bed sheets next to him. Turning his head back to the other boy, he noticed the popcorn bowl was now resting by the other's feet, and a large hand was in its place, his fingers slowly moving against the sheets like inchworms. Megumi swallowed all the saliva in his dry mouth before he looked back up to Itadori, whose face now matched the color of his hair.

The two of them looked into each other's eyes were nervous expressions on their faces, their eyes darting back and forth from one eye to the other. Itadori's eyes took in the beautiful dark lashes that rested above Megumi's dark eyes before he traced the strong slope of Megumi's nose, his cupid bow, his lips- "Fushi-" "Soda." Megumi cut him off, looking around at the walls behind the pink-haired boy. "I uh, I'm out of soda. Would you mind getting us a refill? Please?" Fushiguro asked, sitting his body back against the headboard, his body going rigid in fear and nervousness as he stared at the TV, trying to forget the little staredown they just had.

Itadori looked at him with a blank face before he burst out into giggles. Megumi pouted when he felt his hair get ruffled and messed up by a large, warm hand in his hair, lingering maybe a moment too long before Itadori scooted off the bed, taking their soda cans with them. "Drinks in the fridge?" He asked, smiling to himself as he made his way to the door. Megumi made a small sound of acknowledgment as he held his breath, waiting for the other boy to leave to room so he could fucking breathe, the air felt suffocating around him.

When he heard the familiar click of his bedroom door closing, he let out a sigh of relief, his arms falling limply against the bed as he breathed heavily, a furious blush on his cheeks. He picked up his hands only to place them on his face, feeling how hot he was. "Be fucking cool, relax." He whispered to himself, fixing his hair before he got up from the bed walked over to the window, and cracked it open, allowing the cool air to calm his hot cheeks.

Iradori was faring no better, he practically floated down the stairs in bliss as he replayed the last few seconds over and over in his head. He wanted to be closer to Fushiguro, but he knew how shy the other boy could get sometimes. Itadori laughed to himself replaying Megumi's reaction from moments ago. He only meant to kiss his eyelids, his lashes were just so pretty, he couldn't help himself, but as he analyzed his actions once more he could see how Megumi thought he was going to kiss him for real, he did just get done toggling his lips before he called his name after all.

Amid his daydream, Itadori tripped over his feet and crashed to the floor, the empty cans getting crushed by his chest as his knees got rugburned. "Ahhhh, shit." He groaned, pushing himself off the carpet and grabbing the cans. He was so glad Fushiguro didn't see that, he would've died out of embarrassment. Walking around the corner and into the kitchen he remembered earlier from the mini house tour he got, he was surprised to see you sitting on the couch with Megumi's dad, and he was... shirtless?

After exchanging a few words with you, Toji stayed silent the whole time, looking away from him for most of it, he walked back up the stairs with two new, cold sodas in hand, wondering what on earth you were doing with him. Itadori knocked on Fushiguro's bedroom before he walked in, not wanting to walk in on the other boy pacing, trying to calm himself down. He was met with a rustling sound, sounding like Megumi almost doubled over in surprise before he was given the go-ahead to come in. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Itadori said, smiling at Fushiguro as he walked into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. "You didn't scare me," Fushiguro replied, reaching out for the Soda when Itadori hadned it to him. His blushing cheeks and averted gaze said otherwise. The movie had been paused now, only the air rustling through the leaves could be heard as Itadori cracked open his drink, sitting crisscrossed against the sheets and facing Megumi.

"Feels good in here," Itadori said, watching Fushiguro start to relax as he sipped on his cola. "Yeah." He replied, not looking at the other boy. Right before Megumi was about to suggest turning on the movie again after they fell into a silence, Itadori spoke up. "Oh yeah, when I was grabbing out drinks I saw your bestie hangin' out with your dad," Itadori said, pursing his lips teasingly. Now Megumi was looking at him.

"Please don't say anything else I don't want to know." Megumi pleaded a look of sickness on his face. Itadori laughed, placing his hand on Megmi's knee and caressing it as he tried to calm him down. "It's okay they were just talking." He assured, before adding, "But your dad was shirtless..." Itadori retracted his hand and stroked his chin in thought. Megumi groaned as his head fell into his hands, trying to erase the words from his head that the other boy just said.

"Sorry," Itadori said apologetically, suppressing his smile. Megumi kept his head in his hands while Itadori rubbed his knee, his eyes raking over Megumi's form. "I uh, I wasn't going to kiss you." He suddenly said, his voice quieter than before. The atmosphere changed again, Megumi's body going ridged along with it. "Well, I was, but not- not on your lips," Itadori said, correcting himself. Megumi peeked at Itadori through his fingers, their eyes finding each other.

"You have really pretty eyelashes." Itadori blurted out, his face already fully pink again. He could see Megumi's eyebrows pinch together in his hands. His reaction made him feel more self-aware as he retracted his hand from the other leg and waved it out in front of him. "Sorry, that probably sounded weird. It's not just your eyelashes, well- you're pretty! Oh.. maybe you don't wanna be called pretty, I mean, you're handsome too! Everything about you, you're just-" "Stop." 

Megumi's voice barely came out as a whisper, his face now buried fully into his hands again. "I- I get it. You can stop." He repeated. Itadori would've thought he was offended if not for the bright red tips of his ears, and the crimson color of his cheeks peeking out from under his hands. "Sorry," Itadori said, smiling softly. "God..." Megumi groaned before freeing his face from the confines of his hands and running one through his hair, averting his eyes. 

"Why are you saying all that," Megumi mumbled, his voice quiet and insecure. Itadori stared at the boy who spoke to the door but directed his words at him, a little jealous at the lack of attention. "Look at me first," Itadori said, his voice chipper like it always was, not so serious and bashful and totally unrecognizable to Megumi. It's not like he hated it, not at all, but there was only so much room for embarrassment in one small space, Megumi felt selfish for hogging it all but he couldn't take it.

Megumi took a deep breath before turning his head around, staring at Itadori with a pout. "Can I do something?" He asked, that familiar smile still on his face. "Nothing scary." He reassured, waiting for his answer. Megumi could guess what he was going to do from his earlier babbling. He nodded with a pout, averting his eyes from the pink-haired boys in front of him ever so often. Leaning forward, Yuuji placed his hands on the bed next to Megumi, opting not to touch his knee again, being careful not to overwhelm him.

Megumi looked away, his eyes squeezing shut as Itadori got closer to him, his cologne filling his nostrils. Soon after, he was met with a warm, comforting touch of Itadori's lips against his eyelid, soft, gentle, and strangely familiar. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back and the touch was gone. When Megumi peeled his eyes open again, Itadori was staring at him with a smile, his face ever redder than Megumi's own. 

Megumi had been so consumed in his own embarrassment and nervousness that he had accidentally neglected how Itadori was feeling. Megumi noticed that the other boy's hands were shaking, even though his face looked completely normal. "Relax," Fushiguro said, his voice going back to normal as he pouted before laying back down against his pillow, lower on the bed this time, getting more comfortable. He needed to give Itadori some room to freak out a little bit too.

"I... I didn't hate it so... relax." Megumi continued, his own body vibrating with nervousness. Itadori's smile grew as he lay down next to him, staring at the same ceiling as Megumi. Both of them stayed silent for a long while, just their bodies proximity keeping them warm as the cold air tickled their skin, their breathing becoming one. 

Itadori looked under his bottom lashes at his hand, which was dangerously close to Megumi's. He inched his pinky out towards the slender, pale hand. It looked so soft under the dim, blue glow of the moonlight. Itadori held his breath when he felt his hot skin touch Megumi's, an audible gulp could be heard from the boy next to him. Megumi poked his own pinky out, touching it with Itadori's, trying to show him he wanted this too, he wasn't just putting up with it.

Itadori smiled as he fully intertwined his fingers on top of Megumi's, the dark-haired boy's fingers curling under his. Their hands fit together like puzzle pieces. "I feel like I'm gonna pass out right now," Itadori said, making Megumi shake his head in disbelief, a sigh leaving his lips. He squeezed his hand tighter against Itadori's letting him know he was there for him. "I've never done this before... liked anyone like this," Itadori started, turning his head against the pillow to look at the side of Megumi's face. His side profile was so perfect. 

Megumi turned his head and looked at the other boy, his eyes tracing down his chiseled, sweet face. "Me neither," Fushiguro replied, his eyes never once leaving Itadori's as he soon found comfort in them. "We don't have to say anything yet," Megumi added, realizing they hadn't even confessed to one another, even though it was obvious.

Itadori nodded back softly, licking his extremely dry lips. "Yeah, I like this." Itadori replied, "Your hand is soft." He complimented, making the corner of Megumi's mouth curl upwards as he got lost in the other's eyes. He swallowed before he nodded, both of their heads turning back to look at the ceiling. "Fushiguro," Itadori said after a while, making Megumi hum quietly.

"You heard that right?" He asked, referring to the loud yelp that sounded strangely like a moan and sounded sorta kinda like it came from inside the house, from downstairs to be exact. "Please just turn the movie back on." Megumi deadpanned, feeling a headache start to come on. "Yeah, yup, on it." Itadori shot up quickly, keeping his hand intertwined as he found the remote and unpaused the movie, even cranking up the volume a bit to drown out the sounds of you getting fucked by Megumi's dad.

#jjk fluff #itadori yuuji fluff #itadori fluff #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #yuji fluff #yuuji fluff #fushiguro fluff #jjk megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #jujutsu megumi #itafushi #itafushi fluff #itadori x fushiguro #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk smut

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ 1:04 AM . . . nanami kento (0.5k)

contains; nanami x fem!reader, established relationship, timestamp, extremely suggestive (but it's sfw) author's note; i found this in my docs from 2021

nanami kento is a dreamboat.

he gasps at the slightest touch of your hands, your fingertips grazing his navel—reaching below the hem of his sleeping shirt and pulling it up and over his head. the fabric is nothing but a loose garment in respect to the events that are about to take place; events that you’ve looked forward to since the moment he’d spoken his first words to you— that silly little order of coffee you’d never forget…not that you’d ever even want to forget a single second of time at his side. 

“please,” nanami murmurs against your lips.

he surges forwards again and again in attempts to get closer to you— to feel your warmth and reside in it until the sun rises over the horizon. you, his beautiful sunshine girl; the person that he wants to spend the rest of his life with. the only girl that he’s ever said those meaningful three words to. “i need more, baby. i need more of you. no one else, just you.” 

“just me?” you smirk, ghosting his lips and leaving him longing for more. 

rather than giving him exactly what he wants, which would be no fun at all, you take in the view, admiring the man that you’re so lucky to call yours. with his disheveled hair, void of styling gel and structure, he looks like something out of a movie. an actor on the silver screen staring at the costar that he accidentally fell in love with— a real-life fairytale, a real-life happily ever after. if there was a romance written based on your love story, you’d watch it a million times and more; over and over again until the dvd is too scratched up to play, to which you’d then move on to streaming services and have that film forever. nanami is better than a male lead from a romcom or kdrama.

he’s a dream.

he’s a dream you get to live every night. 

as you grip his face with your hands— tracing the corners of his jawline with gentle ease and love— your gaze dips down and notices your favorite part of the view. his toned skin and hardened abdomen are both things that you can never get used to no matter how often you stare. a six-pack, bordering eight, that’s yours for the keeping— a body like the gods, gifted to you in a garden of golden apples just for your picking. 

“kento,” you sigh out, breathing heavily and sighing at the feeling of his lips against your neck. no doubt, he’s leaving countless bruises and marks on your plush skin, with shades of purple and blue coming out of their hibernation and into the light that is the dawn of day— night turning to morning behind the sheer shades of your bedroom windows. “how is it that you’ve got me begging?”

letting out a harsh chuckle, he takes a hold of your torso, rolling over on the mattress in order to change your position— finding his natural place above you and dominating his presence over your meek posture. 

“quiet, baby.” nanami commands, reaching upwards and away from your waist. his thick fingers near your mouth, briefly taking them inside before yanking your chin down. “suck.” his eyes are dark, forcing you forward and down his digits. “suck like a good girl.”

you’re in for a long night.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀will be an ongoing set of timestamps w/ nanami ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#⭑ 24 hours #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami angst #nanami fanfiction #nanami ff #nanami fanfic #nanami smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami hc #nanami hcs #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami blurb #jjk x reader #jjk hc #jjk hcs #jjk x you

[indiefilmfatale]

long night? (cole x fem!reader)

gifs by 38across^ plot: you get the pleasure to watch cole play in one of molly's games, so he takes you to his room and shows you what he's made of content warnings: server/patron dynamic, dirty talk, doggy style, daddy kink, penetrative & unprotected sex, rough sex word count: 2.5k a/n: so i just watched molly's game and can't stop thinking about joe's lingering glances on all the sexy women so here we are smut below the cut!

You can’t take your eyes off of him. Something about the way he confidently puts his chips down, inching his card upward so he can sneak a peek. He smokes cigarette after cigarette, smoke perfuming out of his mouth as he stares down at the table. He’s not stressed if he’s down a bet, or even if he loses entirely. His demeanor stays cool no matter what.

Not to mention the way he keeps glancing up at you. You meet his gaze everytime. The most you’ve gotten out of him is a cunning chuckle, the occasional shift of his eyes up and down your body as he inhales a puff of tobacco.

But every time he raises his finger to order a drink, you give Ursula —the only other server in the room— a side eye and she gets the message right away. It’s not uncommon for players to take a server home, especially given the required uniform of a tight cocktail dress and 4-inch minimum stilettos. So it was a customary practice between hostesses to claim a player at the table, taking them all of their drinks and performing flirty bits of banter when you did. Last week Ursula took home the hot art dealer with the infamous 9-inch dick. So this week, it’s your pick of the draw.

And amongst the slew of old businessmen and retired actors, Cole — the 20-something trust fund kid — was the obvious choice.

He shakes his empty scotch glass in the air, eyes not leaving the poker table, another unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. You’d almost be offended if he wasn’t so handsome. You dutifully tap the counter and Pascal the bartender pours another glass. You put it on a server tray and walk over to him, staring at him relentlessly as you strut. Your heels don’t make a sound on the Plaza suite floor, so he doesn’t even notice you until you’re hovering beside him.

You place his empty glass onto your tray, replacing it with the new one. He leans back in his chair, unsurprised by your presence but not at all invaded. He smirks, the stick of nicotine floundering upward like it's a toothpick. You take a zippo lighter from your tray and light it with a flick, offering the flame to him. He leans forward just enough to light it, eyes darting to yours.

In this quiet moment, you can’t help but take in the view, for just the second it takes for his cigarette to burn. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough for his dark chest hair to peak out under a single gold chain. His dress pants scrunch up around his groin revealing a subtle bulge. His hair has been combed through with his fingers all night, now slightly disheveled with a few strands brushing over his face.

“Thanks, honey.” He acknowledges, eyes lingering at where your dress ends.

You don’t say a word. You’re not supposed to when cards are on the table. And Molly took a leap of faith in you in this job, so you don’t want to disappoint her. She’s in the corner behind her laptop and reading glasses, as usual, watching everything with a knowing surveillance.

So you just turn around unhurriedly, walking back to the bar counter, feeling Cole’s stare on your ass which admittedly looked amazing in this dress.

When this game ends, it’s 2 AM. A handful of players get up to pay or collect from Molly, others stay at the table for another game. Cole makes his way over to you, shuffling poker chips between his hands. You’re exhausted, leaning your body weight on the counter with your elbows as your waist sticks out between the bar stools. He plops down on the one to your left.

“Long night?” He asks, but you know he doesn’t really care.

You softly groan, rubbing your temple. “Try a long life.”

“Oh, poor baby has to serve drinks to rich men for a living. Sounds grueling.” God, you really want to hate him. But when you turn your head to look at him, his eyes are sweet and caressing. You melt instantly.

“I’d like to see you walk a mile in my six-inch heels.” Is what you manage to come up with.

“But you look so much better in them, doll.” His gaze works his way up your body, stabling them at your cleavage peeking through the low neckline. Pascal sighs from behind the bar, “Another drink, Cole?”

Cole doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even look in his direction. His eyes remain on you. “I’m staying right upstairs tonight. I bet you’ve never laid on a Plaza bed before, comfort like you won’t believe.”

It’s forward, but expected. And he’s right, you’ve never stayed in a hotel fancier than a Hilton. But that’s not why you want to go to his room, and he knows it.

“Sure.” You reply, standing up properly.

You follow him out of the room, giving Molly a glance on your way out to silently let her know to sub in one of the servers sitting on the couch beside her.

The elevator ride is tedious and silent. You’re only going up one floor, so you just stand in the middle while he tipsily leans against the wall to admire you. You swallow, meeting his eyes but not saying a word.

When you enter his suite, you notice that it's basically identical to the one below, sans the poker table and Molly in the corner watching your every move. He lets you in first, but then walks right past you toward the mini-bar behind the loveseat. You watch him pour two drinks and bring one to you, a musky brown liquid not even reaching an inch up the glass.

You two stand close in front of each other. He clinks his glass to your’s and downs the entire shot in one go. You just take a small sip, watching his throat swallow the harsh liquid. “You bring a lot of girls up to your hotel room?” You wonder aloud, taking another sip.

He shrugs, “Only when they're as gorgeous as you.”

You nod slowly, “Hm…”

“I felt your eyes on me all night. God, I was half-hard under the table thinking about getting you out of that dress.” He huffs, setting his glass down on the coffee table.

You finish your drink, setting your cup down beside his. Now there’s nothing between you two but a longing heat. “So are you just going to keep talking about it or are you gonna do it?”

He stifles a dry laugh, leaning in close until your lips are a mere inch apart. He sucks in a breath, eyes flickering down to your lips. “I couldn’t begin to tell you all the things I want to do to you tonight.” And with that, he grabs your waist and plants his lips on yours.

Your hands go straight to his neck. The kiss liquefies you into his arms, his hands gripping you in a way that presses your body flat into his. Your lips move together in hunger, depravity almost. His tongue sinks into yours and you can taste the cigarette smoke and scotch, and you feel yourself wanting to devour him more and more.

You feel his hands find the zipper of your dress and he opens it down the small of your back. The cool air on your body sends a small chill down your spine. He takes his time peeling the fabric off of your shoulders and down your arms, lips trailing over to your cheeks and down your neck.

When the dress drops to the floor, you're left in just a small pair of lacy panties. He kisses your clavicle, down your breastbone, gripping one of your tits while he begins to suckle at the other. You huff a breath of air, his tongue circling your left nipple. Your brain goes blank from the pleasure, eyes fluttering shut.

“God, you’re already wrecked for me, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, the hot air of his breath creating a whole other sensation.

You manage to tug at the backside of his shirt, untucking it from his pants. “No fair…” You sigh.

“Okay, okay,” Cole obliges, lifting his shirt above his head and tossing it onto the loveseat. “C’mon, honey.”

You return the heat of his mouth, his lips like a drug, as he works you backward toward the bed. You feel the comforter hit the backside of your legs as you find his belt buckle and undo it. He helps you tear his belt off. You unbuckle his pants, his tongue pressing against yours’.

Your hand dives into his pants and you finally feel the heaviness of him, thick and hard underneath a pair of silk briefs. He lets out a guttural groan into your mouth as you grip him, tugging half-heartedly on his cock. “That feel good?” You say against his lips.

“Mmph, mm-hm.” He moans. “I need you right fucking now.”

You kiss him again, suckling on his breath. “How do you want me?” You’d do anything for him to be inside you at this point, your core buzzing and soaked.

He leans over and licks your bare shoulder. “Turn around.” He says under his breath.

You slowly turn until you feel your ass pressed firmly against his groin, feeling the hardness on him between your thonged ass. He places wet kisses all down your back, wrapping his hands around you to grip your tits with ferocity.

“Get on all fours.” He orders softly, hands moving to your waste and guiding you onto the bed.

You crawl with your ass pointed at him until you're resting your hands on a handful of pillows at the top of the bed. You glance over your shoulder and see him kick off his pants and underwear onto the floor. He kneels onto the bed and places kisses on the fat of your ass cheek, biting down on the skin just enough to get a soft moan out of you.

Then you feel his fingers on your core. Through the lace, he rubs the fabric between the lips of your pussy onto the tip of your clit. “Fuck, your leaking through your goddamn panties.” He hisses. You rest your head in your arms, sticking your ass even further in the air and giving him better access. “You wanted this so bad, hm?”

“I needed this so bad, Cole.” You mimic back to him in a moan.

“And you’ll let me do anything to you, won’t you?” He presses a little harder on your clit. “You’ll let daddy do anything he wants to your pretty little pussy?”

You feel yourself get wetter at his words, the small movements of his fingers getting easier and slicker by the second. “Daddy can do whatever he wants, just give me your fucking cock, please.” He chuckles as you beg, high on his own power over you. “Are you sure you can handle it, sweetheart? I’m a bit of a stretch.” You feel him move your panties so your core is exposed to him.

“Please fill me up, Cole. I wanna feel you so bad.” You’re dying for him to give you anything, all of him.

He takes his bare cock and uses it to moisten himself with the wetness of your folds. As he circles your pussy with it, he sighs. “You’re gonna take all of me. Not some, all, okay?” You nod against the pillows, feeling ready and not at all prepared at the same time. He still doesn’t enter you. “I have to hear the words, sweetheart.” “All of you, Daddy. Give it all to me.”

And with that, he shoves his entire cock into you in one puncture, practically splitting you in half. You squeal, gripping the comforter below you tightly to steady yourself. He’s bottoming you out, and without pulling out, wiggling his hips against your ass. The pain mixes with pleasure in the most delicious way, and your eyes are already watering.

“Mm-hm, that's it, baby.” He pulls out slowly, only to buck into you again. You feel his fingers dig into his waist to give him better control. “You’re daddy’s little fucktoy.”

“K-keep… Keep going.” You whine, breathless.

He’s all smug about it, brows furrowing as he grins. He begins to pump into you at a dizzying pace, his cock tilting into your cervix at the exact right spot. You can already feel your first orgasm approaching. Moans spill from your mouth as you grip onto pillows, the headboard, the sheets, anything you can get your hands on.

“You’re so fucking tight, oh my god.” He groans. “And just soaking for me, honey, like you were meant for this cock.”

“Mm, daddy…” Your pleasure grows and grows, your pussy throbbing around him. “M’ gonna…”

“Fuck, are you coming already?” His pace remains the same, letting out these grunting moans. A coil in you snaps, and your orgasm hits you suddenly and violently. You're writing your face against the comforter as you're practically mewling against it.

He slows down as you come down from you high, but only for a moment. Within the lull, he sends a swift and hard smack to your ass. “Shit.” You moan.

“Only my cock can make you feel this way, hm? Only daddy’s cock.” He smacks your ass again, right where it's most tender and turning red already.

You’re so oversensitive from his cock and the spanks that you're drooling. Your moans are high-pitched and desperate for more. “Are you gonna cum inside me, daddy?” He groans at the invitation, bucking his hips sloppily and fast. Your ass is bouncing off of him, “Can I get another one out of you?” He breathes, reaching around your waste to play with your clit. The sensation sends you over the edge, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Mmmm, mmph,” You moan against the pillow. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” He doesn’t, only fucking you harder. He feels you pulsate around him again, thighs shaking. “That’s it. Cum for me..”

Your sweat beads down your face as you feel your second orgasm come over you. This one is overpowering and all-consuming, your hips writhing. “Oh… Fucking hell, I’m cumming.” You whine.

“Cum with me, baby. Let me feel you cum.” He refuses to stop his hips, fucking his own orgasm into you. You feel a deep warmth fill your pussy as his groans turn perversely pitchy. You tighten around him, pulling another moan out of him as his shoulders tense. He grips your ass with this whole hand, holding onto the cheek for dear life as he spills.

“Fuck me…” He lets out, slowing down and leaving his cock still and pulsating.

You both let out a synchronized sigh, and he pulls out of you tentatively. His cum leaks out of your hole and onto the blanket. You only have the energy to collapse forward, lying on your stomach as he lays beside you.

He smiles at your exhausted state, softly caressing the hair out of your face. You blink up at him, blissed out. “You can sleep here tonight, honey.” He grins, almost compassionately. “But I don’t think I can let you leave. I’m not done with you yet.”

#he was only in this movie for 5 min #and it drives me crazy #re: unproofed #joe keery mollys game #joe keery smut #joe keery x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot

[partycatty]

dark star!johnny cage > against the world

what it's like dating the evil version of hollywood's golden boy. it's not all fun and games, even if that's how he sees it

warnings: lowkey abusive relationship like just straight up. yandere. lil smutty but nothing horrifically graphic.

notes: listened to "wrap me in plastic" and "watch me work" while writing LMFAO also please god the coat stays ON ‼️‼️‼️‼️ hes so scrummy i need him biblically

masterlist &lt;3

part 2* / part 3* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*

•first of all, dark star!johnny is so incredibly emotionally immature. he's a whiny bastard fr. hell hath no fury like a white man that's in the wrong during an argument with his girlfriend

•"baaaabe what's wrong?? it was just a joke!" after he says you're a 6/10 compared to a model on his phone. ZERO awareness.

•WALL PUNCHER. IM JUST BEING HONEST. your beautiful pale pink walls have so many shoulder-height white patches from you having to fix the wall every time his water has an inadequate amount of cucumber slices.

•he's got the same upbringing as the better johnny, shitty dad and dead mom. he just never really knew how to cope with it. equally as famous as his counterpart, he prefers throwing punches in action flicks. he's just somehow more of a dick about it.

•pampered to holy hell between shots, all relaxed in his chair with his name embroidered on it while one woman tends to his makeup, another to his hair, a third feeding him water. it's how he wants it to be, he needs to be perfect. he is perfect.

•spends like two hours getting ready, most of the time is spent on his hair. you tell him it'd be more efficient to trim it down a couple inches but he likes the way it flops over. you also like the way it falls in front of his face during his stunts. he's just so effortlessly sexy.

•uses his height and physique to his advantage. he loves backing you into corners and looming above you menacingly to watch you squirm, flustered. his large sunglasses reflect your pathetic little face.

•now with you, he loves to show you off, but not enough for you to steal the spotlight. you're his favorite little accessory that hangs off his arm. he chooses your outfits when you make public appearances. INSISTS on matching all the time. misty blue dress with gold jewelry to match his obnoxiously large coat.

•the good johnny plays things up for the camera and saves the sweetness for behind closed doors. dark star!johnny doesn't know when to turn off "camera mode." bro will not be sweet with you unless it gets him brownie points after he fucks up.

•he's so unfair. women fawn over him constantly and he smiles all smugly and leans into their touches. but if a man so much as looks at you for more than a couple seconds, he's beating the guy in moments.

•hates it when you find joy in other people. he will constantly fill you with thoughts that everyone will leave you one day for one reason or another, and that you should feel lucky that a world famous actor wants you.

•will make you turn against people you hold dear, he cuts them out of your life so they can't influence you like he does. this man is a smooth talker and hardcore manipulator that'll leave you anxious when you talk to anyone but him. he has you thinking everyone's out to get you.

•"come on baby, you really think they'd love you like i do? don't be delusional. it's just you and me against the world, you got it?"

•you guys have had so many public scandals, you're the main source of income for the TMZ employees.

•sex tape here, public screaming match there

•speaking of which this dude FUCKS. HARD. :3

•johnny will literally pound you into oblivion whenever he pleases. he prefers doggystyle so he can use your hair as leverage. sometimes he reaches forward and holds your jaw, chest pressed against your back as he mercilessly fucks you. he totally gets himself off on your pathetic moans.

•records it every time. partially to jerk off to later, partially as leverage against you.

•"you like that?" he'll ask in that low growl, somehow hitting even deeper. "nobody can fuck you like i do. so don't even fucking think about leaving - ngh -"

•after an argument, you'll find gorgeous purses or necklaces on your shared vanity. not because he's sorry, but because he knows you'll forget about how annoying he can be when he shells out a couple thousand on a gift for you.

•you could honestly probably do better, but who's gonna say no to johnny cage?

#johnny cage #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut

[prolix-yuy]

Crawling Back to You

Pairing: Incubus!Dieter Bravo x Virgin F!Reader

Summary: Have you no idea that you're in deep?

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, religious corruption kink, bastardizing prayers, brief drug use, mentions of alcohol consumption, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, breaking a hymen, descriptions of blood, biting and drawing blood, pheromone incubus anatomy, size difference/kink like whoa, monster transformation, monster fucking, PiV sex, wildly unrealistic sex, kind of dubious consent in the way that she has no idea what she's getting into so Dieter checks in A LOT, consent is sexy and monsters especially should ask for it, Reader has no idea what she's doing when it comes to summoning an incubus.

Notes: Like most things Dieter's involved in, it takes twice as long but you reap the most rewards. A little late for Halloween, but spooky season is 24/7 and I needed to put this out into the world as soon as possible. Very special gold star mutual thanks due to @ezrasbirdie who gave me the prompt for this story and then talked me through some of the ideas she had. Religious corruption kink is super new for me, not being raised in a formal religion, but it was incredibly interesting to explore in this way. Apologies for the sacrilege, friends, it's all in the pursuit of sexyness.

A big disclaimer! This is not a blueprint for losing your virginity! This is some wildly unrealistic sex, especially for someone who has never experienced PiV intercourse before! Please be safe and careful with your bodies. While we thirst over these scenarios and would love to take monster cocks, always practice safe and fun sex with partners who care about your comfort.

A second disclaimer that in this fic, the Reader defines losing her virginity as experiencing penetrative sex and breaking her unbroken hymen. Virginity does not look the same for every person, and each individual's circumstances may be very different. Virginity is also a social construct that has some gross stigmas around it, which we'll be briefly addressing. I've also kept the reader's age unspecified (18+ of course) but that she has gone to college, so whatever age you may be reading this, your own sexual journey moves at your pace and if/when you define that you've passed this milestone, that's the right time for you.

Cross-posted on AO3

The lines chalked into your hardwood floors glow with a sudden and panic-inducing heat, smoldering as a phantom breeze whips around your kneeling body. The lights in your apartment flicker and dim as a sooty haze hangs around your ankles. Springing to your feet, you frantically search for something to smear the careful symbols to nonsense while a crackle of electricity raises all of the hair on the back of your arms and neck.

It’s much too late to go back now.

Something pulls in the center of your chest as the room expands and contracts like a great beast breathing. You try to stand strong but the tremble in your frame chatters your teeth. Suddenly the room plunges into darkness, and a crack echoes in your ears before the light swells back to full strength. Bracing yourself for what may be in the circle you foolishly copied, you peel open your eyes. 

Then, your mouth falls open, because never in your wildest dreams did you expect Dieter Bravo, famous actor, to be sitting in the middle of your half-assed summoning circle.

“What the fuck?”

He looks just as bewildered as you do, cross-legged on the floor and pulling his lips from a turquoise bong cradled in his lap. He’s wearing sunglasses - did you spirit him here from halfway around the world? - and an open silk bathrobe patterned with roaring tigers. The waterfall of folds bundle in his lap, and for a mouth-drying moment you wonder if he’s got anything on beneath. Then he shifts, billowing a cloud of skunky smoke at your ceiling and placing the bong at arms length. 

Well, he is wearing socks at least, pulled halfway up his legs and under Crocs. You don’t know whether to laugh or choke on your tongue.

“What the fuck to you too,” he grumbles, creakily getting to his feet and dusting little frills of ash from his shoulders. It’s now easy to see he’s sporting tiny black boxer briefs, and your eyes fight to land anywhere but there. They finally find the book, opened to the page you scoffed over until your finished glass of wine goaded you on.

“This can’t be happening,” you finally squeak out, shifting on the balls of your feet as you spin and press your fingers into your cheeks. 

“Sure is,” Dieter says, one hand on his hip and looking at you with naked curiosity. He’s swept back the robe on one side, showing off the shapely curve of his thigh, the soft definition of his stomach, how large his hands…

“I didn’t…I couldn’t have…you…go back,” you stammer, heart and head pounding. Does this mean you’re a witch? Did you honestly summon something with a book you rented from the library? Nothing makes sense with this man staring at you - practically leering - as you contemplate whether you’re having a dusty-old-book-based hallucination.

“Breathe, baby,” Dieter purrs, hands making soothing motions in the air between you. Taking in a big breath and letting it out explosively, you follow Dieter’s motions to sit down with him. The floor is hard and unforgiving on your bottom, but you criss-cross-applesauce with him as he leans back on his hands.

“Normally when I show up, people aren’t all that surprised,” he says, and his voice is raspy and sonorous in the room. You swallow hard, finding comfort in twisting the hem of your pajama shirt in your palms.

“Well, it’s pretty damn surprising to have THE Dieter Bravo in my living room,” you say, a momentary swell of pride when you realize your sarcasm hasn’t flown the coop with your sanity. Dieter chuckles, tilting his head onto one shoulder.

“Who were you expecting?” 

“Honestly, no one. Nothing,” you lie. Half-lie. You were hoping for something pretty specific.

“Very cute, but let’s not pretend we don’t know what’s going on here. I know exactly what you were hoping would pop up in this pretty little circle of yours.” 

Your eyes wander to his inner thigh, then snap to a symbol on the floor. 

“I thought…” You sigh, ducking your head. “I thought I was summoning some sort of…sexy demon. At least that’s what the book said.” 

“An incubus,” Dieter offers, and you nod. 

“But clearly something went wrong, because you’re here, somehow.” You scrub a hand over your face. “No idea how I messed up this bad. I didn’t even know you could mess up this badly.”

“Oh, you didn’t,” Dieter says in a carefree voice. “Mess up, that is.” You arch an eyebrow at him.

“But I got…you.”

Dieter leans forward, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head with a knowing smile. In the dim light of your apartment his eyes seem even darker than before.

“Exactly what you asked for. At your service.” He tips his head, tongue slipping from between his plush lips to swipe along his full lower one. A sudden patter of arousal grips your hips, and he half closes his eyes and breathes deep.

“That can’t…you’re Dieter Bravo.”

“Yes.”

“You’re an…incubus.”

“Also yes.”

The next question blurts out of your mouth too quickly to stop.

“Why?”

His laugh is just as quick and breaks some of the tension digging into your spine. The warmth of it wraps your head in cotton, smiling along. 

“Oh, starlet, I should be pissed as hell to be pulled away from that fantastic party I was about to ruin, but this is turning out to be much more fun.” Your cheeks warm at the affectionate name. “How many people do you think summon incubi these days? A demon’s gotta get by.” He’s sliding closer to the edge of the circle but not moving past it. A small voice in the back of your mind notes that he might not be able to.

“So…acting,” you say, not without a little smirk. He seems to like that, smile stretching wider and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“What, should I be slinging burgers?” he asks with another snort of laughter. “C’mon, don’t tell me it doesn’t make sense. Beautiful people, sex appeal galore, fast living and high octane relationships? I haven’t been hungry in ages.”

Your hands still in your lap, studying your fingers as you let the silence linger. Dieter allows it for a time before his voice pulls you back.

“But you summoned, and I came. You must have a reason.” 

Now that the silly half-buzzed fantasy is mere feet from you, saying it aloud is daunting.

“You’ll…you won’t get it.” 

His eyebrows lift in slow surprise. 

“Try me.”

You're turned on more than you’ve ever experienced in your life, and Dieter’s nostrils flare as his jaw ticks.

“I was having a drink. A couple,” you correct, the dregs of the bottle giving you away. “And I was just hating the way I was feeling about everything going on and I looked at this book and it seemed like a funny thing, to try and summon a demon…”

“Incubus, get it right,” Dieter purrs, and the air thickens.

“I didn’t think it would work,” you protest, hands coming up to cradle your temples. 

“But you hoped, enough to do all this work on the one day of the year when magic is easiest to grasp,” he teases, tilting his head to the side to catch your eye. It’s definitely not helping the situation that he’s Dieter Bravo, solid C-list star who’d captured your attention in more than one of his movies. Thoughts of his dark eyes and full lips drew your hands down your body on more than one occasion before…

Dieter growls low and frustrated. “Let’s cut to the chase, starlet. You’re laying out a buffet and I can’t even have a taste.” You blink owlishly at him before he smirks, licking an incisor. “I can smell how much you want me.”

Shock slams your mouth shut, face burning. Your traitorous body has failed you again.

“You called and I answered. I’m still in your circle, so you could send me away, but I doubt you know how to do that.”

He’s right. You’ve trapped him here. With little old you.

“Or, you could tell me what you really wanted when you spent all this time writing all these little symbols so carefully.” Dieter’s fingers dance along the chalk lines, smile turning cheekier. Steeling yourself, you let the truth out into open air.

“I called you because…I’ve never had anyone before.” 

Dieter’s face remains cooly neutral, but you can see his nostrils flare briefly. 

“You’ve never…”

You shrug, self-deprecating smile cutting through the awkwardness.

“I’ve done some things, by myself, but never…I’ve never had sex with anyone in the…classical way.” The words are starched and wooden but hit a chord with Dieter. He repositions to sit back on his knees, hands splayed on his bare thighs. The smooth expanse of his chest begs to be touched.

“I thought I smelled something special here, and I was oh so right,” he rasps, nipping at his lower lip while he drags his eyes over your body. “Human virginity is a social construct, but inexperience in pleasure? Being allowed to revel in your body discovering all the ways it can feel? That is a rare treat.” 

You don’t expect the sudden rush of emotions at Dieter’s eagerness. Years of people either finding you broken or fetishizing your “purity” had given you an even larger complex than you thought. 

“It’s not…fucked up that I’m doing this?” you ask. 

“What sounds better to you, letting some Chad fumble through trying to pleasure you when his dick can barely handle your sweet cunt, or allowing someone with centuries of experience give you everything you ever desired?”

Your aforementioned cunt knows which one she wants.

“May I ask why you’ve waited until now?” he says, interrupting your railroading thoughts. Shyness and shame clouds your eyes.

“My parents were very religious. Lots of ‘thou shalt nots’ and ‘obey thys’. But I wanted to be a good daughter. So badly.” Dieter’s eyes are darkening as you speak, fingers pressing divots into his thighs. “So I did everything they said. Followed all the rules. And I grew up their perfect little girl. Never got caught sneaking out with a boy, never drank or smoked or anything.” 

“How…boring,” Dieter comments. It stings between your shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much all I heard when I went to college. That I was boring for not liking weed. A buzzkill because I was nervous about breaking rules. And sex…”

Here you swallow, your lower lip trembling before you bite it back. 

“I thought I was doing everything right. Everyone told me I was doing everything right. And then I get into the real world and nobody wants…” Looking up you catch a softer expression on Dieter’s face, true understanding blunting the lust.

“How have these fumbling fools tried to pleasure you?” he asks, and maybe the wine is still thrumming in your veins (it’s not), but your tongue is looser than it’s ever been.

“Grinding mostly. I think they’ve…cum…but I don’t. Not like when I do it myself.” 

Dieter snarls softly. “Fuckers,” he rumbles, an oncoming thunderclap crackled with electricity. 

“Every time I feel like I’m damaged goods,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I thought maybe this would…fix me.”

The lights in the room dip low as Dieter chuckles. Darkness seems drawn to him, settling around his shoulders like a fine stole.

“Betrayed by the God you worshiped so faithfully,” he muses, rolling his shoulders and licking his lips. “Don’t worry, starlet, I’ll take care of you tonight.”

“Can I…do anything for you?” you ask. Dieter’s smile softens, tutting quietly.

“Believe me, you’ll be perfect,” he praises, the heat in your cheeks even more unbearable. “Like I said, I’m rarely hungry anymore, but your arousal will be delicious. I’ll gorge myself on your peaks and leave you sated…and ruined for any after me.”

That should be a warning. It only makes your want greater.

“Okay,” you breathe out. Dieter’s smile widening again. Are his teeth…sharper?

“Now we can fuck to our heart’s content in this summoning circle here,” Dieter says, tapping his finger in the air. Motes of copper light and sparks rain down from an invisible barrier. “I’ve had more challenging obstacles. But if you would like me at my best, break the circle starlet.”

Standing back up, you retrieve a cloth from your kitchen table. When you return Dieter is standing in the center, prowling ever so slightly in his tiny prison. You move to wipe the line connecting the circle when…

“Are other celebrities incubi?” you ask, kneeling in front of him with open curiosity on your face. Dieter’s predatory smile quickly shuffles to confused and incredulous.

“I mean, maybe, I don’t keep close tabs.”

“Tom Hiddleston could totally be one. Or Robert Downey Jr. Heck, maybe Marvel just employs incubi to keep their revenue going…” Leaning down, you move to wipe the mark. 

“Strange little starlet,” Dieter chuckles, and a warm breeze tickles the back of your neck. With one swipe the circle is broken.

“Hannah Waddingham would totally be…” you start to say, nerves tumbling words from your lips, but thankfully Dieter’s stop them. 

He moves so quickly for a moment you’re sure he’s going to devour you, tear you limb from limb for imprisoning him. Instead he crashes your mouths together, hand firm on the back of your neck as his broad shoulders press you on your back. His hips slot between your thighs so smoothly you’re arching into them before you can think straight. Once your head is carefully lowered to the floor his hands find your wrists and press them above your head, maneuvering your thighs to wrap you around his waist. The dizzying feat of agility pales in comparison to his kiss.

Dieter commands your mouth to submit, tongue hot and lewd between your lips. You’re afraid you’ll choke on your own but he strokes delicate paths into the lush depths that keep you barely breathing. His lips are plush and yielding, pulling away to drag against the corner of your mouth or teasing the edge of your lips. And his teeth. You’d had boys clack against you, or press them harshly against your lips. Dieter knows exactly when to scrape them against your tongue, how much pressure to put with your lower lip trapped, the anticipation of them sliding against your skin before he dives in again. 

“What a soft, pretty thing you are,” he rasps, and there’s a deep grinding quality to his voice now. Like stones moving slowly past one another, it vibrates straight to your clit as he inhales deeply behind your ear. 

“Dieter…” you manage, his face lifting from his ecstasy to study your own. His eyes are somehow losing the edge of white, expanding into inky blackness. He lazily laps at his lower lip, and when you lean up to kiss his chin he snarls and presses deep into your apex.

“I’m sorry, starlet, I forgot you’ve been waiting to break promises,” he teases, sliding a hand down to knead at your ass. As quickly as you were laid out you’re suddenly in the air, legs wrapped around Dieter’s waist as he carries you out of your living room. His strength has you feeling light as a feather, barely a nuisance as he searches out a place for his plans.

“The bedroom.” You motion to a half-opened door and Dieter’s knowing smile precludes entering. 

“Eager, aren’t we? What if I wanted to lay you out for everyone to see?”

The image of your body laid bare, covered in moonlight and monstrous hands, flutters your eyes as the bedroom door shuts behind you.

“No, tonight you will remain in my confessional,” he says, kneeling down on the bed and letting you fall back into the mess of pillows and sheets. 

“You’re very fond of religious metaphor,” you rib, rubbing your thighs together as Dieter sheds the robe and his Crocs, a brief moment of clarity bubbling a giggle up your throat. Dieter’s motions slow as he regards you again, kneeling between your legs.

“Maybe I am rather fond of…corruption,” he husks, the word lighting on your skin like sparks. “Maybe I like seeing you forsake all for me.” 

If he asked, you just might. The high of his attention is so great.

“But in this moment, what I mean is we will speak no lies in this room.” His hands trail down your thighs, and now your body remembers it has no experience from here. You shake, heart pounding as Dieter crawls up your body with only brief brushes to guide his way. “My promise is that you will know pleasure as great as I can offer. And you will tell me everything you think, and feel.”

He hovers over your body, broad enough to block the paltry light through your window.

“Would you like to be pleasured?”

“Yes, Dieter, please.” 

His smile is wicked, and the scrape of his fingernails up your ribcage arches your back. In a fluid slide of his fingers your shirt is over your head and tossed into darkness, leaving you bare-chested under him. He hums with appreciation as his face descends, curved nose dragging along your tender skin. Time hangs in the balance as you tense for what may come, but Dieter only traces dizzying paths with the tip of his nose and the fullness of his lips. Up one side of your ribs, placing kisses at intervals, then along the underside of your breast. His hot breath warms skin, nipples hardening sharp and sensitive at the scratch of his facial hair. Then down the center of your stomach, a long and cyclical detour around your bellybutton. Stomach trembling, he hushes you as his fingers slide under your waistband and bunch your sleep shorts and underwear in his hands. 

Another fluid drag and you’re nude, still swimming in endorphins at Dieter’s skilled touch. It’s only when hot palms wrap around your knees and begin easing them apart do you balk. Instinctively you clamp your legs together, heat flooding your face. Dieter tuts, smoothing his hands up and down your jittery thighs.

“What are you afraid of, starlet?” he asks, ghosting his fingers over the apex of your sex. Just the brush against your mound steals your voice, that same hot shame and anxiety pulling you in on yourself. When you don’t answer, Dieter commands more firmly, “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Dragging your eyes from the ceiling back to him doesn’t help. He’s all mischievous eyes and knowing smiles, pressing a kiss to both of your knees as he rests his chin on them. 

“I can make it easier for you,” he says, fingers finding a soft crease in your hip and stroking along it. “Give you something for the nerves, for any pain. I’ll only let you feel good here with me.” 

You take two more grounding breaths and ease the pressure on your knees.

“”Sorry, I’m just…no one’s ever…” you say, but before you can explain your woeful inexperience he’s wedging his way between your legs and holding your thighs open in his firm tight grip. 

“I’m the first to taste this forbidden fruit?” he asks, and you clench involuntarily. He waits as you gather yourself enough to nod. A deep, dark chuckle falls from his lips. “Starlet, you have no idea what you’re in for tonight.”

The question claws up your throat but no sooner has he glanced at your pussy he’s diving in to press his tongue deep and sweeping through your folds. The velvet slither arches your back off the bed, a strangled cry earning a satisfied hum between your legs.

“Holy shit, Dieter, oh my god,” you rasp as he flicks his tongue in fast swipes over your clit. It’s foreign and taboo, so much wetter and softer than your fingers and you can barely stop your hips from bucking into his mouth. One hand presses you down to the bed, his chin tilting up to catch your eye. Slick shines his mouth, and your pussy throbs when you realize his eyes are the shiny black of nightmares and creatures used to the dark. 

“No god here, sweetheart. Only me. Only take my name in vain,” he growls, and the rush of blood in your ears speeds up when you realize the hand pressed on your abdomen spans the width of your hips. Black-tipped claws indent the flesh, prickling your skin just shy of pain. Dipping low again, Dieter swirls at your entrance and prods in, nose pressed tight to the button of your pleasure. The supple stretch is unfamiliar, pulling at a primal need to let him fill you. It tightens your thighs and shudders you against him as he forces you down again, the bite of claws a sharper warning. His jaw doesn’t stop, plunging and delving into you as deep as he can manage. 

“Dieter, it’s never…oh fuck, it’s never felt this good before, please…please, I can’t stand it,” you beg, a rush of slick coating his tongue. Now a true snarl seeds your cunt, and in the charcoal dark his silhouette thickens, shoulders broadening under your knees. He pushes you further up the bed, pulling even greater cries from your chest. Dragging his tongue from your sopping hole, he sucks greedily on your clit, hands wrapped around your waist to lift you half off the bed. Suspended and flowing with arousal, your hands unclench from the sheets and circle his wrists. The skin is hot under your palms, and they dig deeper in at your scrabbling touch. It’s not enough, so with a boldness you pull from a dizzying depth you bury your fingers in his curls. 

At first touch they’re soft. Long enough to wind around your fingers. You give a gentle tug and swear you feel a shudder around you. But as you bury them deeper another sensation tickles your palm. Something unyielding and curved, smooth like bone. Two protrusions fit in the webbing of your thumb and forefinger, short enough that the blunt tip brushes your knuckles. Horns, you think. A demon is eating me out and he has horns. And where you might have tried to wake yourself from a nightmare at this thought, instead you wrap your fingers around them and tug.

Like lightning something changes in Dieter. His lips tear from you with a roar that fills the room, your mind, spreading like forest fire and drying your mouth out. You hold on as he drops you back to the bed, the sound still ripping from his throat. Then there’s pain, supernova-like in intensity and scorching through arousal and fear. Your eyes snap down to Dieter’s mouth, but it’s no longer defiling your pussy. It’s clamped hard on your inner thigh, air puffing sharply through his nose. The pain radiates, and you realize he’s bit you. Not an overzealous love bite, you can feel the puncture of incisors and pump of blood into his mouth, the same pattern as your racing heart. Your hands release his horns, pushing you up as your mouth drops open in horror. 

“Dieter,” you gasp, but with his horns released the pressure abates. His eyes open slowly, catching your terrified face. The curve of his brow morphs from surprise to apology to determination. Then a thumb presses firmly to your clit and circles it, washing pain away with pleasure teetering right on the edge. His fangs remain in your thigh as you stare at him, incredulity on your face but pleasure rocking your hips. He adds pressure to the bite again, speeding up his fingers as your brain struggles to differentiate one from the other. 

Then, just as your spine begins tingling and your fingers go numb, one slick finger penetrates your cunt, smooth and deep, barely noticeable compared to the symphony of sensations. Like a reward, Dieter gives you the final stroke that crashes your orgasm over him, slamming you back to the bed as pain and pleasure and shame and exhilaration floods your brain. You barely register Dieter’s jaw releasing, fingers working you through your orgasm as the slow laps of his tongue lull you back to your body. Every muscle quivers, attempts to sit up failing twice before you manage to come up to your elbows. 

Between your legs Dieter is pressing devotions to the spot he bit, open-mouthed kisses with peeks of tongue soothing the injury. His finger is still inside, a lazy caress of your walls foreign but not unpleasant. Finally he lifts up to his knees and turns his attention back to your face.

“I’m sorry, starlet, you got me a little too riled up there. I’ve fixed it, but you might be sore tomorrow.” A bloom of teeth circle your inner thigh, but no blood oozes out. You felt the pop, felt him inside you, and somehow he’s taken it back. “Can’t have you injured because of me, not very professional.”

“I hope it stays,” you pant, fingertips tracing the dark marks. The tenderness arcs down your spine. 

“Fuck, you’re made for sin, starlet,” Dieter purrs, and now your attention can turn back to him. Grounding yourself with a healthy, “oh fuck,” is the only way you can fathom what he’s become.

He towers over you even kneeling, broad body only more tantalizing as he’s grown in stature. The well-known triangle tattoos you’d seen in paparazzi photos are joined by swirling patterns up and down his arms, concentric rings and text you can’t read patterning his skin. Where only wild curls were before now jut two smooth horns, curved away from his face and looking suspiciously similar to a goat’s. His skin almost steams in the room, wisps of smoke or condensation haloing his silhouette like an ominous aura. 

Then his hand flexes again and you realize how full you are with just one finger inside, even observing how thick and wicked they’ve become.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, and there’s only a hint of teasing now as he works his finger inside.

“It’s…okay,” you gasp, staring at the place where you’re connected. His thumb ghosts over your clit again, but so soon after your high it’s over sensitive, making you hiss and tremble. 

“Shhh, starlet, just relax. Thought it would be better to take advantage of the pain.” With a final stroke that lights up your nerves he slips out, holding his fingers up for you to see. They’re wet with your arousal and a little blood, a lot less than you thought. “Now that’s out of the way, we can take our time giving you the best fuck of your life.” With a knowing smile, he pops his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean. 

“Fuck, you really are…an incubus,” you say, acquainting yourself with the dull ache of your loss. There isn’t much fanfare, no swelling of emotion. If anything, breaking your hymen is probably the least memorable part of your night. Dieter’s smile falters briefly, and in a dizzying turn of events he shrinks back, closing in on himself. Ducking his head, you might think he was embarrassed, or shy. It looks stranger than the horns on him.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Touching the horns got me a little too worked up. Let me open you up on my fingers for a little while longer, that’ll give me enough time to…change back.” His smile is sheepish now, hands roaming your thighs and stomach. Instead of the skin-crawling terror you thought that would instill, you’re practically preening under his touch.

“Is this you? This form?” you ask, and you let your boldness move to your hands. You stroke your fingertips over his, investigating the smoothness of his claws, how the joints of his fingers are more pronounced than yours. He scoffs an uncomfortable laugh.

“Uh yeah, mostly. But you’ll have a lot more fun bragging that you lost your virginity to THE Dieter Bravo,” he redirects, shaking his head like he’s annoyed he’s not that man yet. 

In your brief and paltry handful of intimate moments, you never considered yourself bold. You’d let men touch you until your discomfort was too much, or your embarrassment pulled to the forefront. You never asked for the touches you enjoyed, or sought out the pleasures you dreamed of. But now, with a creature that’s endearingly vulnerable before you, your voice is finally strong enough to be heard.

“I’d like you to stay this way,” you say. Sitting up further, you skim your hands up his arms to cup his face. Your touch snarls his lip briefly before he settles.

“You can’t handle that, starlet. I’ve kept my human form reasonable, but you will not be able to take my cock,” Dieter husks. Tugging your wrist down to his waist, you palm him through fabric barely able to contain him. Thick and long in your hand, he drops his head and thrusts against you and gets bigger.

“Ruin me, then,” you whisper, filthy and naive into his ear. “I’ve waited all this time, saved myself for no one but you. Make me take no lover but you. Make me pray to you for ecstasy.” Leaning in to the metaphor rewards you. With a dangerous rumble he pushes you flat on your back, one hand wrapped around your throat.

“You want this, starlet? All of it?” he grits out, sickening cracks and pops echoing in the room. His hips force yours wide, planting his other hand by your head and carefully watching your face. The shine of his fangs whips your heart into a gallop, more ink dancing on his skin as he transforms from something beautiful to something magnificent. The room darkens perplexingly until you realize wings spread from his shoulders, thin light gleaming through the stretched web of skin. His aura crackles with molten motes, a whiff of fire and smoke making a home in your lungs. When he looks back at you, half familiar and half transcendent, his roguish smile brings one to your lips.

“Strange little thing, wet and ready for me,” he croons, removing his hand from your throat. A rip of stitching signals he’s as nude as you are now, and your eyes widen when the heavy length of his cock rests on your mound, curving past your navel and thicker than your hand can circle. 

“Say you want Dieter Bravo back, and I’ll have just as much fun wrecking you in that form,” he says, but there’s something cautious between you now. A shimmer of anxiety and distrust. You’re holding a thread of something truer than he intended to give you, and if you drop it you’ll never find it again.

“Can you help me make it feel good?” you ask, sliding your palms along his chest. Without proper pupils it’s hard to track his expression, but you think it’s awestruck.

“Of course, starlet. You’ve learned to cum from pleasure and pain, but I won’t have you suffer more than necessary.” Dieter leans down and cups your head, bringing your nose to his neck right where it meets his shoulder. “Breathe,” he instructs, and you inhale deep. Below the smoke and heat you smell sweet new earth, lush and fruitful. It makes your mouth water, clutching at his shoulders as he begins rocking his hips against yours. His monstrous cock slips in the wet mess between your legs, slicking the underside generously.

“Fuck, you arousal is so delicious, I could taste you for centuries,” Dieter whispers. Lifting up, he smiles at your dazed expression and wandering hands. They trace his features, lingering on his lips. “How are you feeling now?” 

You want him inside you, filling you up to bursting, to breaking. The need is hotter, all-encompassing. It’s surety that he won’t hurt you, that you’ll be shown pleasure beyond anything you’ve experienced. It’s lust but also trust. 

“Can you kiss me?” is what you say, and Dieter’s smile is a touch softer before he leans down and claims your lips. 

You swear you hear a hiss when he touches you, his skin scorching but not enough to burn. Parting his lips and nudging your jaw open, he traces the inside of your lower one with the tip of his tongue. One hand cups the back of your head, cradling you to his mouth, and with a forbidden thrill you realize his hands are now large enough that his fingertips caress the perimeter of your face. The threatening pressure of claws in your skin arcs arousal back in your cunt, winding your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he orders, and with a magnificent beat of bat wings his silhouette glows with dancing light much like a breath sparking fire to life. The warm hue of his human skin has gilded to gold, tattoos moving along the dips and peaks of his body. Eyes black and fathomless, his smile is a lifeboat in a raging ocean. He lets the heavy weight of his tongue wet his lower lip as your eyes widen, hefty cock lifting from your mound to press at your entrance. Scrabbling fear overtakes you, and you clutch at Dieter’s shoulders as the pressure mounts. 

“Again, starlet,” he croons, but his voice is the rumbling of great stones moving over one another as you inhale deep of his scent. Cool water pours through your limbs, easing your muscles and letting your legs drop open wide. His other hand presses at your lower back and arches you off the bed, resting your thighs atop his own. Then, with a controlled push his head breaches you, wrenching a wrecked moan from deep in your chest. He stops as soon as he’s engulfed in your heat, the only betrayal of his own state residing in the long exhale of breath that tickles across your chest.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Tell me if you need me to stop,” he grits out, but you shake your head and roll your hips. It’s sloppy, inexperienced, but he moves ever so slightly within you and it punches a groan from between Dieter’s clenched teeth. 

“Please, Dieter, more,” you beg, his claws tightening around you again. Another measured advance, another wail, more snarling and groaning from the creature stuffing himself inside you. Whatever aphrodisiac he’s fed you is working magnificently. You’re full, the pressure intense, but the pain is dull and quiet. He’s watching where you’re joined so closely, stretched obscenely around his cock, waiting for your thighs to unclench before backing out and pressing deeper in. 

“Touch your clit,” he gasps, “Rub that pretty clit so you can take all of me.”

Your fingers are nowhere as decadent as his tongue but they pull bursts of ecstasy close to the surface. Venturing a look down, you’re dismayed to see he’s barely halfway there, so much more of his pulsing cock still to take. He already feels like he’s in your stomach, battering against your lungs. Tears spring to your eyes, lower lip wobbling.

“It’s not going to work,” you whisper, and even with the knowledge that Dieter could turn human at any point you still wallow in the rejection you anticipate. Not good enough for anyone, not even the person you called for.

“Shhh,” Dieter soothes, easing you back down to the bed. He tugs over pillows to tuck under your hips before covering you with his body, still looking in your eyes even at his towering height. “Breathe. Do you want me to stop? I can let you rest, change back to my human form. If you can take all of this…” His hips twitch forward, a soft cry tumbling out. “...then you can take my human cock perfectly.” With a tenderness your eyes water for, he strokes his thumb along your cheek. “Do you want me to stop?”

It’s already so much, so intense and mind-blowing, but you can’t help yourself. 

“I want all of it, Dieter,” you say, consequences be damned.

Much in the same way touching his horns unleashed something in Dieter, hearing those words unlocks something even more primal and greedy in his face. Dropping down to his elbows, he presses your face against his neck. 

“Bite,” he orders, the word igniting every pleasure center in your body. “Hard, starlet, give me one as good as I gave you.” The words are barely out before you sink your teeth into the crook of his neck, but instead of blood or other ichor you’re flooded with pleasure. The sensation rips an orgasm out of you, hips bucking on his cock. You register Dieter pulling out to the tip before slamming his hips into yours, seating himself fully inside your throbbing cunt. You don’t know how your body makes room for him, how you’re not screaming (well, maybe screaming some), but he’s inside you and littering your body with, “oh fuck, oh fuuuuucks” as he swirls his hips. 

“I did it,” you coo in pleasure-dipped delirium, head flopping back on a pillow as Dieter starts thrusting into you in slow passes.

“You sure fucking did sweetheart, look at that perfect pussy taking my monster cock,” he praises, now sliding along your clit with focus. The overstimulation rolls right into desire again as your cunt learns how to gorge itself on pleasure. 

“It feels…good,” you say, bearing down on his thrusts to meet him with a little more force. He purrs in admiration, starting to speed up ever so slightly. 

“Yeah? Like how good you feel all stuffed full?” Dieter asks but it’s nonsense now, his focus pulling between your face and his cock pumping in and out of you. There’s a little more pain now, places where his cock brushes that zip sharp up your spine, but it’s far from unpleasant. In fact, you might like it. Maybe really like it. 

“More, Dieter. Want to feel you. Please,” you moan, restraint flickering in Dieter’s eyes. 

“Fuck, baby, you can’t say shit like that when I’m so deep in you, I won’t be able to…” His thought falls off as his thrusts speed up, a little more force at the end each time. It’s kissing at something devastating inside, something clawing its way to the surface through years of shame and dread.

“Please Dieter, I’ll beg for it. I’ll…” Your brain wraps around a wicked idea. “I’ll pray for it.”

That does the trick. Dieter’s lips curl back in a snarl as he rears up to his knees, wings spreading to fill the room with only him. Hands gripping your hips, he looks down at you not like a lover, but like a fallen god. 

“Then do it, starlet,” he challenges. His smile is cool, but his cock twitches in your cunt. You have him. 

“Glory be to you, Dieter,” you say, and hellfire light erupts around him. Dragging himself out of your cunt, he holds tight as a bowstring.

“And to your…fucking massive cock,” you continue, eyes rolling back as he fills you to the brim. “And to your true form, in all its beauty,” you add, softer now, drawing his eyes back up to you. Time hangs as he studies your face before dipping down and sealing your lips with a kiss that means too much for words. When he lifts away you finish the prayer.

“As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.”

Dieter’s smile glints.

“A-fucking-men,” he rasps, giving you just enough time to press your hands against the headboard before he starts railing you. 

You’re lost in pleasure and ache and sin and Dieter pounding recklessly into your cunt. His grip paints bruises along your waist, battering thighs marking the inside of your hips. His claws dig into your flesh and sharp scrapes tighten your nipples. Hands roam up over your breasts, around your neck, pressing your wrists into the bed as ominous splintering and cracks echo in your ears. 

“Another before I cum on your tits, sweetheart,” he pants, spitting down onto your clit and circling it with vigor. You cry out, hips bucking as the thickness of his cock impedes on your quivering walls. “It’s so close baby, just cum around me. Let me feel you cum on all my cock this time.” 

“I can’t,” you cry out, shaking and sobbing around him. Dieter tuts, his rapidly increasing slap-slap-slap of thrusts maddening. 

“You can, and you will starlet. You didn’t think you’d take my cock. I didn’t think you’d take it, and look at you now. So you’re going to cum. You’re going to cum now.”

The order shakes the room, pictures rattling on the wall as a final flick hurtles you off into oblivion with Dieter’s roaring triumph right behind. He’s somehow still fucking his cock into you even though you’re so tight it almost hurts to be cumming so good. A final crackling roar and you’re achingly empty, followed by a hot splash of cum across your stomach. Then another cresting your breast, and more and more until you’re covered in it, sticky trails sliding to pool in your bellybutton and drip over your sides onto the covers. Dieter is gasping above you, glowing like a sacred artifact as he pumps the last drops from his cock. 

You close your eyes once and it’s a mistake. As soon as you let your eyelids touch exhaustion grips you, fighting your desperate attempts to reopen them. It’s battling this bone-deep tired when you experience Dieter’s return to a human form. The horns receding, tattoos fading to just the ones that grace tabloid pages. The wings fold away, and soon a sexy as hell rumpled and soft body replaces the supernatural one. 

“Wore you out, starlet?” Dieter Bravo asks, kneeling between your parted knees with a rakish smile. You try to return it with a nod but your whole body is heavy, the mess barely bothering you. Dieter hums thoughtfully, and in a few moments a warm washcloth is cleaning up his cum.

“Side effect of my influence, helps a lot in the moment but it’s got some pretty strong sedative properties. Good for a speedy exit.” His chuckle sounds faraway now, even as you try to clutch at it.

“Stay,” you manage to croak out, hands seeking his body. You find his hair again, nose buried in your sex as he licks softly at your folds. The building ache there creeps back down to something dull and manageable.

“Our contract is up, can’t stay once you’ve given me what I’m owed.” Dieter’s lips start leaving small kisses along your abdomen, fingers soothing your skin. “Even if it was very, very good.”

“Please,” you try again, racking your rapidly puttying mind for anything to keep his hands on you. 

“Even when you say it so sweetly,” Dieter says, but there’s melancholy now. It glances off your fingertips as sleep pulls you under. 

In the between world of dreams, you think he says something more to you, but Morpheus snatches it away. 

Hail, starlet, full of grace, Dieter is with thee. 

This might be the silliest thing I’ve ever…well, hmm…

Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, all those delectable orgasms you gave me.

Holy starlet, bringer of…something special.

Pray for this sinner.

There’s blood on your sheets when you wake, though less than you expected. There’s also less pain, though the ache takes your breath away when you sit up too fast. Hobbling to the bathroom with the cool pink of morning light guiding, you inspect your body in the mirror. 

You don’t look much different than before. Some strange notion of losing your virginity making you suddenly appear “mature” is dashed away. Maybe there’s a little glint of a secret in your eye, but not much more. Actually, surprisingly not much more. You expected bruises, scratches along your body and love bites marring your landscape. Instead your canvas is unblemished, no marks or injuries to hide. It’s almost as if he’d never been there.

Sitting down on the toilet, you wonder if maybe he wasn’t. That you dreamt up debauchery due to food poisoning or someone spiking the punch at the Halloween party. You couldn’t possibly have summoned an incubus. 

A dark mark inside your thigh catches your attention, and any doubts dissipate. A ring of teeth, four larger fangs prominent, marrs the inside of your thigh. Brushing your fingertips over the circle, the skittering thrill of those memories settle in your chest. 

You ride on the endorphins for a few days, a handful of people noticing. A work friend tries to interrogate you on it but “a lady never tells” is a saucy enough reply for her to give an approving look. You buy a new bed online, the base of yours splintered to ruin, but you keep the cracked headboard like a souvenir.

Online dating doesn’t seem as daunting now that you’re not so worried about the dreaded “first time.” You even accept a few dates, meet some generally nice men with generally boring personalities. They don’t make your heart race like a certain celebrity whose name you googled briefly before slamming your laptop shut. They certainly don’t kiss like him, or make sexy little jokes or terrify you as much as intrigue you. 

So for a while you try to move on. There’s no other option, right? Dieter Bravo the Movie Star would never give you a second thought. Dieter Bravo the Incubus surely has better things to do, more lascivious living. So you try to find something even remotely like what you felt that night.

It’s mid-November when you find yourself sitting on your living room floor again, piece of chalk in hand. You lit candles this time, bought black lace lingerie, made yourself up to feel pretty. It doesn’t help your shaking hands as you pull the rug off the summoning circle. Touching up a few spots, you settle by the broken line where you released Dieter. It all popped off when you completed the circle last time, so with a deep breath and a swipe of the chalk, you reconnect the chalk.

And you wait.

And wait.

A bulb in a lamp flickers but it’s brief. An errant breeze almost snuffs out a candle. But nothing happens. Your knees are sore, eyes watering but you blink the tears away. 

It was a long shot, you have to admit. A fluke chance, never to be repeated. You’ll have to settle for something bland, safe, loving but…

Nothing like Dieter.

You’re about to get up from the floor when one other idea tempts you. Something you thought he might have said before leaving you ruined.

Pray for this sinner.

Clasping your hands in your lap, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. 

It’s been a long time since you last prayed.

“Dieter…” you whisper. The fine hairs on your neck rise up, but you press on.

“Dieter, I pray to thee,” you continue, closing your eyes. “Come to me in my hour of need.”

A pause, then a final entreaty. “Please.”

A rumble creeps into your body, tiny puffs of candles snuffing out reaching your ears. You dare not open your eyes yet, too hopeful for disappointment. Instead you wait, and hope.

A hot hand, thick fingered and human, slides up your chest, over your throat and cups your chin. Relief floods your body, melting back against a solid chest and chuckling lips.

“Hello, starlet,” Dieter croons in your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. Your fingers search for curls, burying in his hair as you lace your fingers with his.

“You came,” you breathe, sparks igniting on your skin as he presses a line of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

“How could I not, when you prayed so sweetly?” he teases, tugging you back to sit in the cradle of his crossed legs. “Smart of you to try the circle, but outside of all hallow’s eve you don’t have access to enough power for that trick.”

“But you came,” you repeat, turning your face into Dieter’s ministrations. He nips at the side of your jaw, soothing it with his lips before murmuring a confession into your skin.

“I hoped you would call again.”

A thick emotion swells in your chest, and you spin in his grasp to crash your mouths together. The momentum knocks him backwards to the floor, letting you straddle his waist and feast on his ample lips. His hands roam your back, reverent in their paths. When you break to suck in lungfuls of sweet air he leans up to mouth at your neck, possessive hand on your ass urging you to grind against him.

“Have you let anyone else fuck you?” he growls. To your delight the anxiety and trepidation that colored your first encounter is nowhere in sight. You smile wolfishly down at him.

“How could I? You’ve ruined me for any man,” you tease, and under your body he writhes, the whites of his eyes trading for inky black. “Plus, one time is hardly enough to know if I even like sex. I’ve barely begun to explore.”

The fangs flash between his kiss-swollen lips, and under the promise of any delight you desire you glimpse the even more exciting fondness that will draw you back to him again and again.

“Then we have a lot of work to do.”

END

Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new Now, I've thought it through

The Arctic Monkeys, "Do I Wanna Know?"

#dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #incubus!Dieter #virgin reader #prolix fics

[idololivine]

NEON Carnival Q&A Pamphlet Translation

disclaimer: apparently Taiwanese Mandarin is different from what I speak, so some of these may need to be taken with a grain of salt! my credentials are that my native language is Cantonese and I know - but am rusty on - Mainland Mandarin.

Q: Do the characters have set dick sizes? A: The team has a "super⭐secret measure", every time they draw the characters they'll reference it.

Q: Between Quincy and Olivine, who has the bigger breasts? A: The team fought over this and couldn't decide, so there's no answer.

Q: I want to know the ages of the long lived ones, the yokai, and the familiars! Who's the oldest? A: From oldest to youngest are: Kuya > Quincy > Rei > Aster > Morvay > Yakumo > Garu. The specifics of their ages will be revealed in the game.

Q: Who's older between Father and Topper? A: Father is older than Topper!

Q: The game has a lot of retro stuff, super curious about the producer's age! A: Retro has nothing to do with the producer's age!!!

Q: How are the kinks of each room thought up? A: The devs think of them in the small dark room, the artbook sketches include clues. [t/n: I consulted two other Chinese speakers and I'm still not really sure what the answer actually means, so this is a best guess translation.]

Q: What's inside the small dark room? A: Tired and busy devs......

Q: When designing event outfits, how do you decide where to open holes? A: Different people will think of the parts they want to highlight, later on we'll also test different levels of nakedness. (it's not like we haven't thought of throwing darts to decide) [t/n: little unsure about this one too. it's possible it means they think of which part of the characters they want to highlight, but they used 眷屬 rather than 角色.] EDIT: @milkeumilkeou has informed me that in the specific context of nuca, 眷屬 means clan members. that's what I get for not playing the game in Chinese... in this case, the better translation is: A: Depending on the clan member the devs will open the holes at the places they want to highlight, later on they'll also test different levels of nakedness. (it's not like they haven't thought of throwing darts to decide)

Q: How were the voice actors chosen? A: The producer chose them according to the characters' personalities and the desired voice. Many thanks to the voice actors!

Q: How far in advance do future events begin production? A: Usually the topic is decided on about 4 - 6 months in advance, and then production begins.

Q: I want to know which character the devs think would be the best coworker! A: Everyone agrees the best coworkers would be Eiden, Edmond and Olivine; Dante's work ability is also very strong, but he's more like a head that scares people. [t/n: 'head' may also translate to director or manager.]

Q: Do the characters have body hair? A: The devs actually really wanted to draw it, but considered various realistic reasons, so the players can't see body hair, but you're free to imagine it! (let Quincy have some stubble... how would that be?) [t/n: I would guess that the 'realistic reasons' they considered are probably that BL typically doesn't feature body hair, so it might've made the game less marketable.]

Q: Who has the most sexual experience? A: Morvay! (super fast answer) [t/n: the question is literally "who has the most experience♂️?" lol]

Q: Does the Klein Continent have a habit of wearing underwear? A: Klein has underwear. Just like hats, gloves, and scarves, when considering factors like decoration and functionality, to wear or not to wear underwear, and what type of underwear to wear, all depend on each person's preferences.

Q: Is Eiden's light brown hair dyed? A: Yes, and he'll regularly re-dye it.

Q: Does Eiden prefer briefs or boxers? A: It's okay as long as it's snug and covers him, and he has some special styles.

Q: I want to know how Eiden gets to work! A: Eiden rides a motorcycle, and on rainy days he'll switch to public transportation.

Q: What opportunity led to Eiden's interest in design? Did his designing always have to do with sex toys? A: Eiden has had artistic talent from a young age, and hoped to turn his passion into a job. His first job was being a sex toy designer at Peak of Pleasure, and this job happened to combine his two interests of design and sex. Aside from the overtime, for Eiden, this was an ideal job. [t/n: in case you don't remember, Peak of Pleasure is the name of Eiden's old workplace as mentioned in Journey to a NU World.]

Q: I want to know Eiden's relationship history! Did he have boyfriends before? A: Eiden knew he liked men from a young age. When he was fifteen he had a bitter first love, and afterwards his partners were all short term. Towards relationships he carries a generous attitude of easy-come-easy-go, and thinks that being happy in the moment is more important.

Q: Does Topper have others of his kind? A: He used to, but when he met Quincy, among those of his kind only Topper was left. [t/n: 手足 may also translate to 'siblings' or 'close friends', as opposed to 'others of his kind'.]

Q: Who makes Topper's outfits? A: Sometimes they're prepared by Quincy, sometimes they're made by Eiden.

Q: Does the food Topper hide in Quincy's hair affect Quincy washing his hair? A: No, Quincy will wash his hair when it needs to be washed. But not long after Quincy washes his hair, the food stores in his hair will be quickly refilled by Topper.

Q: I want to know Topper and Father's weights! A: Little animals' weights will fluctuate, but there's no direct link to fur amount. Topper weighs about a third of a pampo, Father only weighs about half a music box. [t/n: pampo as in the pumpkins from Eerie Escapade.]

Q: What's Yakumo's signature dish? A: He's good at everything, especially savory food. Because of his grandparents' influence he rarely eats sweets, and he can't quite grasp the seasoning amount, but after meeting Eiden he's begun to research sweets recipes.

Q: How is Edmond's knights' uniform worn? A: The uniform has a top piece and a bottom piece, the jumpsuit has a zipper on the back for convenience.

Q: If Edmond came to Taiwan, how sweet would he order his boba tea? A: After ordering full sweetness, Edmond would feel that it could be twice as sweet.

Q: How many nipple chains does Olivine have? A: Olivine makes all of his own nipple chains. He'll change them based on style and mood. The number continues to increase.

Q: Will Quincy help brush Topper's fur? A: Quincy will sometimes help brush Topper, but most of the time Topper will groom himself.

Q: Quincy, Olivine, and Kuya, who would win an arm wrestling match? A: Olivine would win, because Quincy wouldn't take it seriously and Kuya wouldn't compete.

Q: Please reveal Kuya's real height! A: It's 178cm ^^.

Q: I want to know Kuya's experiences before and after becoming a yokai! A: Kuya's journey of becoming a yokai will be revealed in future scenes. What can be revealed now is that, after Kuya became a yokai, he was a lawbreaker for some time...

Q: When Kuya addresses Quincy, why did it change from "boring associate" to "old friend"? A: When Kuya says "old friend" he doesn't mean true friends, he just likes addressing people in ways that make them uncomfortable, like "Master Rei". [t/n: Kuya probably didn't call Quincy "boring associate", but I have no idea where to begin looking for what he actually called Quincy.] EDIT: Kuya used to call Quincy "boring clan member" rather than "boring associate". credit to @milkeumilkeou once again!

Q: Does Garu sleep nude? A: He doesn't like pajamas that are restrictive or impede movement, but if it's cold Eiden will wrap him up in clothes or a blanket!

Q: When Dante first adopted Sooley, how did they get along? A: At first Dante got bitten terribly, because he tried to train Sooley to do various tricks. As they spent more time together, the two eventually developed some mutual understanding of wildness.

Q: Can Dante swim? A: Dante thinks that with something as small as swimming, you just need to learn! [t/n: Dante dodges the question here and neither confirms nor denies whether he can swim, just says that anyone can learn. knowing how he is, he's probably being ambiguous because he doesn't want to admit he can't.]

Q: How many darlings has Blade made? A: Because Blade's favorite is cute things, it's infinitely increasing...... [t/n: 'darlings' as in the goofy little statue guys]

Q: Has Rei always been in the Water Territory? Has he moved before? A: Rei doesn't have a fixed home, he moves regularly. The room in the Water Territory is just one of his hiding places, it used to be an abandoned house.

Q: Does Rei eat when he's experimenting? A: He'll eat if he remembers, if Father's there he'll also remind Rei.

Q: If Fluff Balls think Fluff Balls are cute, will they eat their own kind? A: They won't eat each other. If there aren't cute things around, the Fluff Balls will journey in search of them. [t/n: since when was eating cute things part of Fluff Ball lore...?]

Q: Where is everyone's erogenous zones? A: Aside from the gemstones, everyone's erogenous zones are as follows: Eiden: lower abdomen Yakumo: tongue Edmond: nipples Olivine: entire chest Quincy: dick, palms Kuya: ears Garu: tail Blade: darling♡ Dante: tattoos, especially the Adam's apple and fingers [t/n: might be throat instead of specifically Adam's apple] Rei: moles

Q: I want to know where everyone starts washing when they shower! A: Hair: Eiden, Yakumo, Edmond, Olivine, Topper (the fur on top of his head) Face: Dante, Sooley Upper body: Quincy, Father (chest feathers) Lower body: Garu (tail first), Morvay (also tail first♂️) Anywhere's fine: Rei, Blade (e-droids' bodies will automatically maintain cleanliness) Kuya: nobody knows where he washes first, but it's said he showers every day Aster: likes to bathe

Q: When drawing characters, are there emphasized specialties? A: Eiden: dick size, the balance of everything Yakumo: height, his slender body, the size of his feet as proportional to his height, finger length Edmond: waist to hip ratio, thighs Olivine: chest, eyes Quincy: arms, shoulders, pecs, Topper Kuya: face, palms Garu: his face/cheeks shape, his round butt Blade: eyes, balanced model-like body, his cheeks when he smiles Dante: perfectly triangular upper body Rei: the firm lines of his body Aster: brattiness and cuteness Morvay: muscular but not too buff

Q: In Aster's mansion, does everyone have their favorite locations? A: Eiden: his own study (he designs a lot of things here) Yakumo: kitchen (cooking) Garu: kitchen (stealing Yakumo's cooking) Edmond: garden (frequently has afternoon tea here) Olivine: library Blade: library Quincy: quiet places where he can sleep Kuya: next to the fireplace Dante: living room Rei: places to put collectables Aster: personal money vault Morvay: likes being outside, doesn't like staying home

Q: Do the characters have personal clothes? A: Eiden: in his rebellious phase he liked dressing up, now he prefers simple, comfortable clothes. He has a changing room at Aster's house, and every event he'll absorb the local trends and design outfits that fit Klein aesthetics and seasons. Yakumo: aside from traditional snake yokai attire, Yakumo's clothes are almost entirely bought by his grandparents. Edmond: because he's nobility, he has a lot of clothes. Olivine: because he dedicated his life to the priesthood, Olivine doesn't have many personal clothes. Quincy: he has few clothes. Most of them are made by him, so they're rare. Kuya: he likes trendy and new stuff, so he has a lot of accessories. Garu: it was only after he started living with Aster that he started getting more clothes (Aster and Eiden buy a lot of clothes for him). Blade: he'll wear whatever people give him, and he looks good in everything. Dante: he doesn't like wasting money, but as the Sun Lord, he has special outfits for important occasions. Rei: it's fine as long as it's wearable, he prioritizes ease of movement. Aster: prefers pretty, fancy designs, and especially likes clothes with cute accessories. Morvay: likes practical (easy to take off) clothes.

#my posts #nu carnival #nu: carnival