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Hii I had two questions which one is making me decide wether or not to do this anonymously but one I was wondering if you could do Billy loomis or stu macher 👀 and then the more freaky question is..is do you do stepcest specifically stepfather stepcest?..its a freakier ask but I've been in a mood lately for that😔 I know you've already done a fan fiction with stepcest but I still wanted to ask cause ik some people aren't into writing that!
I will definitely try to write for them!! And I will abso-fucking-lutely write stepcest. Father stepcest is one of the hottest things ever, I LOVE it and I would be so fucking excited to write it!! 😩😩😩
Quick Summary and Author's Note: This is a VERY self-indulgent fic I wrote for myself. I had no plan to post it but I just loved how it turned out. I originally wrote this with myself and my ex in mind, a little fic to help me cope...you know 🚬
But there are no names so you can imagine whatever male person you want! Fictional or otherwise, if you also want to picture your ex while reading then GO FOR IT TWIN. (I hope you enjoy and my next post will be a Dustin & Jack: Pizza Movie x Reader fic, so stay tuned friends!) 💖💖💖
(suggestiveness, but no actual smut)
♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.
You can hear him just down the hallway, his feet shuffling and fabric rustling as he fidgets. You can also hear your own heartbeat, obnoxious thumping ringing through both your ears.
It's as if you're underwater, as if everything is slowed just a fraction. You feel your feet barely move when you take a step, your brain not sending out the correct signals. How stupid could you get? Brain malfunctioning just because he's a few paces away, it's pathetic.
Unfortunately for you, you don't have the best luck so obviously something even more pathetic rounds the corner just as you do. He comes into view after you pass the wall, staring at him from the other end of the hallway. Your heart jumps, leaps up into your throat like it's ready to go down the waterslide that is your larynx.
You swallow it back so it settles behind your ribcage once more. You shake your head as you attempt to break out of your trance, hair flying around your face and sticking to your lips. You pull it away and finally speak to him.
"What are you doing here?" You ask. It's simple and straight to the point, because you don't have the patience for small talk. If he's here, in your fucking apartment, then he very clearly wants something from you. You haven't spoken to him in years, haven't seen him in just as long. The last time you had spoken he said he hated you, and that he'd never love you again.
So either he's here to say something or he's here for some kind of revenge.
"Can I talk to you?" He asks, his voice deeper than you remember but still just as shy sounding.
"Uh...” You weren't expecting that response. You seriously were convinced this was a revenge thing, because there was no way you'd be this fucking lucky. “Sure.” Your face softens and you nod. “We can talk in my room.” You turn around to walk back towards your bedroom, glancing behind you to make sure he's following.
When you look back at him, his gaze quickly pulls back up from where it'd previously been focused. Was he just looking at your ass? No fucking way, stop being delusional.
You let him walk in first, smiling politely as he passes before entering after him. You shut the door behind you and meet him where he's standing in the middle of your room.
"What are you here to talk about?" You ask, your arms crossing uncomfortably over your chest. You try to ground yourself and stay in the moment, you try not to lose yourself.
"How have you been?" He asks instead.
"Look...I appreciate you asking but I really don't have the patience for this. Just tell me what the hell you want from me.” You speak roughly.
"I don't want anything from you." His brows furrow like you'd just said something so ridiculous.
"Well excuse me for assuming such a thing. I don't know what I was thinking of course the guy who said he fucking hates me, doesn't want anything from me. I can't believe I'd even make such a far-fetched notion.” You say sarcastically.
"Don't do that.” He shakes his head, meeting your eyes with slightly narrowed ones.
"Do what? State the facts?”
"I don't want anything from you, I don't want to fight with you. I just...want to get some things off my chest.” He finally says.
"Some things?” You question, mostly to yourself. You see the sincerity on his face, see how vulnerable he's acting. "Okay...okay, talk to me. What's up?” Your voice softens. You didn't have a say in how your body reacted when he was around, therefore you didn't get a say in whether or not you can feign indifference.
You think he notices the shift in your attitude and your voice, because his shoulders relax the slightest bit.
"I wanted to say I'm sorry." He starts, already catching you off guard with only six words. “For...for what I said. I don't hate you, I never hated you.” Your eyes widen. There was no way this was real, you're dreaming again aren't you? “I just...I tried to convince myself that I hated you, tried to stop loving you...It never worked, and I lied to you about it because things weren't working. I thought if I said those things then it'd finally be enough to push you away. We weren't…healthy together back then, so I did what I had to.” He stops, you think he has more things to say by the clenching of his jaw.
"What is it?" You ask, instinctively reaching out for him. Your voice is honey sweet now, your eyes glassy with tears as you rest a hand on his arm. His eyes flick down to look, not even attempting to pull away from you. If anything, he pushes himself closer to you.
"I never hated you, I can never hate you. I...I love you, I'll always love you. I tried to stop and I told myself I was happy but I...” His voice wavers and your hand gently squeezes his arm.
"It's okay.” You say, stepping impossibly closer to him. He meets your eyes and loses himself for a moment, watching your lashes flutter.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you, couldn't stop comparing everyone I met to you. I couldn't stop comparing my girlfriend to you...no one I meet is ever like you. You're you and no one else can be that, and I don't want anything but that.” He says softly, very clearly blinking back tears.
"You still love me?" You ask, your voice gravelly.
"Yes." He winces, like saying it pains him in a way he can't describe.
"Does that...upset you?"
"What?"
"You...you made a face when you answered. I thought it was discomfort, I thought maybe you don't want to still love me.”
"I don't want to still love you.” He says. "But I do and I can't change that.” He shakes his head.
"Why don't you want to?” Your brows furrow the slightest bit.
"Seriously?” He asks.
"Um...yeah?” Your brows furrow further now.
"Who the hell would want to still love their ex when said ex has already moved on?” He almost scoffs.
"I'm sorry...you think I've moved on?" You do scoff.
"Well...yeah.”
"You're such an idiot.” You sigh loudly. “Jesus Christ, I mean...did you ever listen to a single word I said back then? Did you not grasp how fucking serious I was when I told you I'd always love you? I didn't say that for shits and giggles, I didn't say it as a guilt trip or an exaggeration...I meant that shit.” You breathe, trying to fight back tears. Looking at him standing right in front of you, your hand still on his arm while his eyes bore into yours. You can smell him, smell his scent that clings to his clothes.
"You still love me?"
"Of course I fucking do.” You huff. You release a shaky breath when he smirks at you. He was trying to fucking kill you, you're sure of it.
"We haven't talked in years, and you still love me?” You can see him getting cockier with every passing second and every flush of your cheeks.
"Don't say it like that, you still love me too!" You grumble, your eyes narrowing. “I'm not the only crazy one."
"I never said you were crazy."
"You looked at me like I was.” You retort quickly.
"Fine, yes you are crazy but I am too." He says with a more genuine and softer smile.
“Clearly, you showed up to my apartment to confess to me even when you thought I was unavailable. That's some crazy shit.” You say with a laugh. "Hold on, how the hell did you even get my address?”
"Alexa.” He replies quietly.
"She gave you my address and didn't tell me?! What kind of bestie even is she?” You pout.
"I told her to keep it a secret for now, she gave me a time limit." He breathes out a laugh.
"A time limit?" You laugh.
“She said if I hadn't come over and told you by next week, then she'd tell you."
“Yeahhh, that sounds like her.” You laugh, unaware that he's watching every second of your face lighting up.
"You're so pretty." He whispers. You stop laughing but keep a giddy grin plastered on your face. Your cheeks are burning hot and you're sure they're bright red by now.
"You think so?" You reply quietly.
“I know so." He breathes, eyes flitting down to look at your lips.
"You're pretty too...handsome." You reply, your voice shaky. "Always have been.” He leans in closer and your breath hitches.
"Can I kiss you?” He asks sweetly, his breath fanning across your lips.
“Don't waste time by asking.” You rest both of your shaking hands on either side of his face, holding him as you lean into each other. His lips gently press against yours, a barely there peck to test the waters. Then you both lean further into it, lips pressing together deeper. You stay like that for a few moments before his mouth is opening.
You follow his lead like it's second nature, and for you it really is. Your mouth opens against his, both moving together in perfect synchronicity. Kissing him was just as perfect as you remembered, you both moved together so easily. It's like you knew each other better than the back of your own hands, and yet you didn't even remember his favorite color.
It didn't even matter, because everytime you kiss him it's like you're pulling open his chest. You're pulling his entire being apart until you can see every inch of his very soul. And seeing the mess inside you still stay, you kiss him harder and deeper, telling him how much you still adore him.
When his tongue tentatively licks across your bottom lip you greedily stick your own out to meet his. You make a small sound, a sound halfway between a whine and a whimper. He swallows it with a grunt of his own, his hands quickly coming out to grip your waist.
**It's like that one sound alone broke every ounce of his control. One tiny whine and he's pulling you closer, kissing you messily and humming in pleasure. You move your arms to wrap around his neck, one hand reaching up to comb through his hair. He releases a louder groan into your mouth and you moan in response.**
You gently pull the hair at the nape of his neck until he finally pulls away. You take a much needed deep breath while he starts tracing kisses down your neck. You breathe out his name like a mantra, sighing at the sudden onslaught of tingling pleasure. His kisses are going straight to your cunt, but you try to ignore it.
“Ah." You whine when he gets closer to your sweet spot. You really hope he doesn't remember where it is. Then he pulls back an inch, his breath fanning the skin just below your ear. You gasp and your fingers dig into his shirt. You say his name and very weakly try to push him away.
Then his lips find that one spot, placing a very messy kiss there and making you moan. You quickly cover your mouth and try to hold yourself back up after your legs almost gave out. You can feel the smug bastard smirk against your neck.
“Found it.” He whispers. He bites down on the spot and listens to the muffled groan you let out from behind your hand. He finally starts sucking on the spot, creating a dark purple mark on your skin.
“You...you have to stop." You finally breathe out, hand pushing him back. He detatches from your neck and pulls back, meeting your eyes.
“What's wrong?"
“If you keep doing that then I will lose all self-control and I cannot fuck you when my mother is in the apartment.” You huff, your chest rising and falling as you pant.
“You want to fuck me?" He smirks.
“Shut the fuck up, obviously I do." You roll your eyes. “I've wanted to fuck you for...well, a lot longer than I'd like to admit."
“Really?" He grins.
“You're so annoying." You scoff and laugh.
“And yet you still love me." He teases.
“Unfortunately.” You fake a frown before quickly chuckling and looking back into his intoxicatingly beautiful eyes.
“I love you.” He breathes, leaning in to kiss you sweetly.
“I love you.” You reply with teary eyes, breathing the words out over his lips.
When I saw this scene of Dustin being pushed up against his locker by Andy, as sad as it was seeing him all depressed and shit you gotta admit it was also hot asf 😭 I literally never found Dustin attractive when I was a kid growing up watching this show, but when s5 came out this scene literally changed my brain chemistry and now I’m a complete slut for him
I'm so sorry i'm terrible at explaining things! The request related to it was a dustin x reader but the reader really clashes with steve like they do not get along but both suck it up to make dustin happy 💗 you don't have to do this if you dont want to but i thought it would be a silly dynamic :3
Ohhhhh, okay!! I can definitely write this! ૮ ⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ ა
And you don't have to apologize! I'm really bad at understanding things so it's mostly my fault 😭💖💖
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Do you feel comfortable writing fics that focus on platonic dynamics? like fics about being a character's partner and how the reader is with the character's best friend kind of thing? sorry if that's a terrible explanation 💔
I'm comfortable writing pretty much anything and everything, so I'm gonna say yes!!
But I'm so sorry, I don't actually understand what you meant by this. 😭😭
like a heathen clung to the homily ⋆˚࿔ spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer returns home in the middle of the night, exhausted beyond words and in dire need of a snack. who are you to turn him down?
genre: smut (MDNI) word count: 2.9k
tags: fem!reader, oral (f receiving), munch!spencer, fingering, kissing, spencer is a tease, yes of course he's wearing glasses, title from a hozier song, written in a morrisons car park, proofread (please hold your applause)
notes: on god he's devouring that shit like it's his last meal
Coming home late is an art that Spencer Reid has learned to master. He’s studied which floorboards creek, which ones groan, and which ones scream bloody murder at the slightest misstep. He’s learned how to unlock and open every door without making a sound. He’s adapted to staying light on his feet and traversing the apartment, soundlessly, in complete darkness.
Every inch of this place is memorised; every sharp corner, every piece of furniture, every lip of every thick woollen rug that he once would trip over almost every day. He even knows where you are most likely to leave your belongings, and he accounts for them, whether they are there or not, as he goes about his silent routine.
There used to be a time where he could make as much noise as he wanted to, within reason. A time where he could flick on the lights and hum a happy little tune to himself without fear of disturbing any sleeping lovers. But it isn’t just him anymore. His once solitary apartment—his bachelor pad, as Morgan used to call it—is now a shared space, and he wouldn’t change it for the world. He would happily spend the rest of his late nights fumbling around in the dark, holding his breath, if it meant that he got to return home to you.
But tonight, though he does continue with his usual dance in the dark, the last thing on Spencer’s mind is letting you sleep.
“Psst. Hey.”
You wake disoriented, half-buried among your hoard of soft pillows and softer blankets. You’re sprawled out like a starfish, limbs strewn across your shared bed, with your face partially obscured by your favourite purple and orange quilt—a birthday gift handmade by Spencer.
Leaning over you is Spencer himself. Hair tousled. Glasses sitting halfway down his nose. Backlit by the light of the moon peeking through the blinds and looking very much like a guardian angel.
All you manage in response is a low grumble. Words feel too far out of your reach as you squint up at him, face all scrunched up in this confused, sleep-riddled expression that is probably about as far from sexy as you can get.
You’re dimly aware of the state of your hair, and of the fact that you’re sleeping in a shirt that very obviously isn’t yours; you like maths, sure, but not enough to parade yourself around in a shirt displaying a right-angled triangle with the words “I’m always right” printed under it in big, ugly lettering. You’ve told Spencer to throw this shirt out more times than you can remember, and yet here you are wearing it when he isn’t around. If he hasn’t already figured you’ve been missing him, then he’s bound to find out as soon as he sees that cursed shirt.
“…Spence?” you mumble, struggling to keep your eyes open.
He greets you with this huge smile, bright and excited in all the ways that are sorely inappropriate for such a late—or early—hour.
“There she is.” He leans down to kiss your cheek, and he stays there for a moment, letting his words hit your skin as he murmurs, “there’s my angel.”
“You’re back,” you observe, stating the obvious. You rub your eyes, still trying to pull yourself out of your haze as he settles down beside you.
“I am.”
He sounds far more enthusiastic than you do, peppering your face with kisses like he’s been away for months, and not a week—six days, technically.
He was due to come home tomorrow night. At least, that’s what he told you. You wouldn’t put it past him to lie for the sake of surprising you like this.
“How did it go?” Your fingers find his face in the dark, and you cup his cheek. “The case. Did you—”
“Shh.” Spencer presses his lips to yours, silencing you with a kiss that seems to thrum with something more, something unspoken, but he pulls back before it can be explored. “Just let me kiss you.”
“Spence,” you whine, but your protests are quickly muffled as he kisses you again.
Still, despite your attitude, you lean into him. Your hands slip into his hair, and you thread your fingers into the silken brown strands as you pull him closer. You try to sit up, but he gently pushes you back down.
“It went well,” he eventually murmurs. “I missed you.”
“’Missed you, too. How well is ‘well’?”
Spencer sighs against your mouth, and he pulls away with a barely contained smile. He tilts his head slightly as he looks down at you, studying you in all of your sleep-ruffled glory. “We caught the unsub,” he says, “no one on the team got hurt, and Los Angeles can sleep well knowing they don’t have a serial killer to worry about.”
“Only paparazzi.”
“And celebrity stalkers.”
“Same thing.”
“Very true.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “But that’s enough about me. How have you been? Have you been sleeping okay?”
“Well, I was…”
He flashes you this faux-sympathetic pout. “Sorry.”
“Empty words,” you mutter, shaking your head. “I was having such a nice dream, too.”
“Oh?” Spencer shifts, bringing himself closer to you as he props his head up with his hand. “What were you dreaming about?”
You shrug. “Oh, you know…some pretty FBI agent, a queen-sized bed, and…” your voice trails off for a moment, and you puff air into your cheeks before adding, “whipped cream.”
Spencer’s brows shoot up, and he nods along animatedly as though you’ve just uttered something profound. “Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Sounds like fun.” He trails his fingers, touch feather-light, along your jaw. His glasses continue to slip until they’re balancing precariously on the end of his nose, and you’re certain they’re about to fall right off and hit you in the face. “But I feel like whipped cream on a queen-sized bed would just result in quite a…sticky mess, right? I mean, the amount of laundry that would come of it—”
With your index finger, you push his glasses back into place. “Shh, let me have my fantasies.”
“Okay, okay,” he concedes with a sigh—light and breathy, almost like a laugh. “And I’m very sorry that I interrupted such an…interesting dream.”
“Very interesting,” you say.
“I’m sure it was.” His hand is holding your jaw, barely. He’s handling you with such an impossible gentleness, angling your face towards his with such subtlety, that you hardly even notice he’s doing it. “Let me make it up to you?”
“Hm…maybe.” You find yourself leaning into his touch instinctively, gazing up at him with love-laced curiosity as you ask, “what do you have in mind?”
Spencer purses his lips for a moment, pretending to be deep in thought as though it isn’t painfully obvious that he has, in fact, come in here with a plan. His hand leaves your face, and he begins carefully peeling away your blanket. “The same thing I’ve had in mind for the last week.”
“I’m listening.”
The words come out a fraction quieter than you had been intending. You try to bite back a smile, but your efforts prove futile as Spencer pushes the blankets aside to reveal you in just a t-shirt and underwear. Again, his t-shirt. One that he clearly recognises, because his face lights up with this stupidly smug grin. When you roll your eyes in response, he leans down to kiss your cheek.
"It suits you," he murmurs, almost whispers, and he follows it up with another quick kiss before sitting up.
He nudges your knee, silently asking something of you. Your brain is, admittedly, still a little foggy, so there's a moment where you just stare at him, buffering, before you spread your legs and hope it's the correct move. Thankfully, it is.
He settles between your legs, on his knees, and leans over you. One arm braced against the mattress, the other brushing hair from your face. He inches his face closer to yours, taking a long moment to just…look at you, admire you before (hopefully) kissing you again.
You decide he's taking too long, so you cup his cheeks and pull him down until his lips meet yours, and it seems that every ounce of restraint he had been exercising thus far dissolves in a matter of seconds. He kisses you like he's been starved of oxygen, need-driven and thoughtless—as thoughtless as Spencer Reid can get, that is—like he'd devour you whole, if physics allowed it.
His glasses, no longer in place on his nose, press against your browbone, and you break the kiss just long enough to take them off and set them aside, out of harm's way, before turning back to him. Lips still parted, ready for him to dive back into you.
But Spencer's focus has now shifted to your neck. He trails his lips down until they meet the junction between your neck and shoulder, where he knows you're most sensitive. He nips lightly at the skin, and you feel him smile, proud, as your breath catches. Then, he works his way back up until his teeth find your earlobe.
"You know, it's a generally accepted theory that erotic dreams may be representative of latent non-sexual desires, or needs, that aren't being met," he explains in this soft, honeyed tone as he pulls back. His hands travel down your body, palms brushing over your curves through your (his) shirt. "They can come about as a result of loneliness, or a need for safety—even low self-esteem."
His fingers hook under the band of your underwear, and you raise your hips without hesitation. He pulls them down slowly, so slow it’s almost hard to watch, because he just loves making you wait, skimming the fabric along your legs before casting them aside.
"There's also a possibility that you may see qualities in this pretty FBI agent that you lack in yourself," he continues, lifting your leg to press a kiss to the inside of your knee before progressing, steadily, down your thigh, "such as…attention to detail, maybe. Or perhaps…orderliness…a level head…"
"Spence…"
At the sound of your voice, Spencer looks up at you, brown eyes wide. Almost innocent-looking. You never should have told him that those eyes, and that damn deer-in-headlights look, were your weakness—all he’s done since then is use them against you.
"Mhm?"
"We agreed to keep Freud out of the bedroom," you say.
Spencer grins, baring his teeth against your thigh as he chuckles softly. "I know, but it's kind of difficult. He's so relevant."
"I’m sure he is," you mutter, doing your best to look unamused despite the smile tugging at your lips. "I have an idea."
"And what would that be?"
"Stop talking."
He gasps, faking offence as his hands squeeze your thighs. "I thought you liked my ramblings."
"I do," you say, "when we're not…like this."
"Oh, I see…you're getting impatient."
You stay quiet, denying him the satisfaction of a response. If you disagree, then odds are he'll drag this out even longer. And if you agree, if you validate him, then it'll just go straight to his head. And his ego is already big enough as it is.
"I could be a lot worse," he adds with an unassuming smile, "if you—"
"Spencer."
"Yes?"
"…please."
The word is an admission in itself, but it beats the alternative.
Spencer sighs. "Well…if you insist." He lowers himself, settling fully between your legs as he brushes his nose against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you need him to be. "I suppose I won't boreyou with all the dreams I’ve had while I’ve been away…"
"Wait, what—"
A sharp gasp cuts through your words as Spencer's mouth finds your clit, and any coherent thought vanishes, replaced with hot static and an overflow of need that has built up in his absence. His fingers press divots into your thighs, keeping them open as he works you with a proficiency that only he could manage; that eidetic memory serves him well when it comes to memorising you. Your body, your essence, your nuances; all the little things he can play to that have you writhing beneath him, forgetting everything that isn't the way his mouth feels, and the hunger that it ignites within you.
Need mounts almost to desperation as you lift your hips in a silent plea for more, and you whine when he gently presses you back down against the mattress. Your fingers find their way into his hair, curling into the chestnut strands as you push his face deeper into you. He makes this noise in response; a low, pleased hum, and it reverberates through you in a way that has you fucking reeling with pleasure.
He releases his grip on one of your tensed thighs, and the next thing you know he's slipping a finger inside you with ease. A second finger follows and, before you know it, you're arching your back and trying to stifle moans in the hopes that the neighbours won't hear you as Spencer finger fucks you with practiced, calculated precision, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly and bringing you closer and closer to the edge at a carefully controlled pace. He knows you, inside and out, probably better than you know yourself—no, definitely better than you know yourself, because not once have you managed to achieve this kind of high when you've flown solo. It's second nature to him, something he can do without thinking—something he needs, just as much as you do, after such a long week.
His name tumbles from your lips, whispered like a prayer between hymnal moans. He looks up at you and, for a moment, his gaze locks onto yours. What you see in those dark eyes in that split-second is nothing short of worship. Tainted around the edges with a smugness that he can never quite hide when he has you like this, especially when you start to devolve into helpless whines and whimpers and choked, breathless curses. The way you always do just before he brings you over the edge.
The orgasm hits you right when he wants it to; halfway through whining his name, so all you can manage is a weak “Spence-” before the tension snaps and you lose yourself completely. You moan into your hand, and your thighs clench around his head—not that he seems to mind—as he continues guiding you through it, squeezing every ounce of bliss out of you before it all subsides, and you melt beneath him, dazed and drunk on your own ecstasy.
Spencer sits up, red face glazed with a thin sheen of sweat, and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. He watches you for a moment, gaze travelling across your form like you're a work of art in his stupid t-shirt, and he allows you to catch your breath before leaning down and capturing your still-parted lips in a slow, tender kiss. Your hands return to his hair, and you pull him that little bit closer, unable to stop yourself from moaning softly as you taste yourself on his tongue.
You trail a hand down his body until your fingers brush against his prominent erection and, when you do, Spencer breaks the kiss with a gentle shake of his head. His fingers close around your wrist, and he pulls your hand away even as you whine in protest.
"Not tonight, sweetheart," he whispers.
"Why not?"
"Because," he punctuates his words with a kiss to the corner of your mouth, "I just want this to be about you."
You pout. "Why can't it be about both of us?"
All Spencer does in response is flash you a knowing smile—one that raises far more questions than it answers—before lowering himself until he's lying flush against your body, being careful not to put too much weight on you.
"You're weird," you mumble.
"You like it."
"I do."
Spencer nestles his face in the crook of your neck, and you can still feel him smiling against your skin as you run your fingers through his hair. It's hard to believe that he's only been gone for a week; it feels like it's been so much longer than that. Too long.
You'd ask him to never leave again, if you thought you could. But you know exactly what his answer would be; soft-spoken, sympathetic, disappointing. He can't be here every night, not without giving up his job, and you'd never ask him to do that.
Instead, you go a different direction.
"So…" you murmur, "about those dreams you mentioned…"
He lifts his head. Eyes narrowed; brow raised. "Oh, now you want to hear about them?"
"Yes. I’m curious."
He purses his lips for a long moment, keeping you on edge until he finally shrugs and says, "no."
You frown. "No?"
Spencer nods, and that smug, knowing little smile returns. Only now it's tinged with a hint of something disconcerting—something sinister, almost. He kisses your cheek once, then your nose, and then, finally, your lips.
"I think it'll be better if I show you," he says, keeping his voice light and innocent. "Tomorrow."
Hiii I was wondering if you would do anything with captain Jack sparrow? I wanna ask first cause idk if you are apart of that fandom but ive been running out of Jack sparrow smuts so just wanted to ask!
GIVE IT TO ME RN!! I AM SO FERAL FOR THAT MAN I CAN'T BELIEVE I NEVER THOUGHT TO WRITE FOR HIM. ૮◍⁰ᯅ⁰◍ა
Send it in twin!! I'm gonna write the hell out of it 💖💖💖💕💕💕
I was wondering if youd do any fanfics that had like actual public sex kinda? I'm trying to come up with something but I wanted to ask first😭
Oh, fuck yeah!! Public seggs is my fucking jam, I love that shit. I love pretty much everything honestly. I'd love to write a fic like that, so of you come up with something SEND IT IN IMMEDIATELY TWIN 😩😩💖💖💖💕
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I just watched the pizza movie and oh my God you are so right gaten is SO FINE IN IT GRAHHH. I have a jack x FAB! GN!reader smut ideaaaa with sub and Dom Jack, making out, eating out, riding, rough and soft sex, multiple orgasms, spooning sex(jack spooning reader and fucking them from behind), weed usage, you can add whatever else you want as well. Okay so jack is like high as shit on weed like extremely high and he is on his bed looking at photos of reader(aka his crush) and eventually starts to touch himself to the pictures of reader and moans their name awfully loud and just moans and whines loudly In general. Readers dorm room is like right next to Montgomery and jacks dorm so reader could hear it but being a little high themselves so they thought that he was hurt so they got up and ran to jacks dorm and just burst opens the door which for some reason jack never locked probably cause he's too high to think about that. Reader just saw jack on his bed, pants pulled down, dick out, on his phone looking at pictures of reader and stroking himself while moaning loudly. Montgomery was probably somewhere else or he heard jack and Just walked away from their dorm till he's done. It took Jack like a full 10 seconds to realize that reader was there and she froze and covered himself with a blanket quickly and practically throws his phone across the room but it landed near reader and unfortunately for Jack, reader picked the phone up and they put 2 and 2 together and realized that he was jerking off to them and if they were honest it turned them on a bit. They close the door behind them and they walk over to Jack and crawl onto the bed and and move the blanket off of him and stare at his length(hes cut okay ik Tecnichally he's not in the movie but I prefer cut😼) he's leaking pre-cum and he twitches under their gaze. Jack whimpers as reader starts to stroke him(you write whatever you want in this blank area so you have freedom here, make it as long as you want). Reader stops stroking him and sits on their knees and takes off their shirt, revealing their black laced bra(you can write jacks reaction) and they take off their pants as well revealing their matching panties. They slowly reach behind themselves and unclip their bra and Jack grabs their panties and rips them off. He has no idea where he got that random confidence but as soon as he did it he blushed when he realized. Reader slip the rest of the panties away and crawls on top of Jack. Reader kisses Jack slowly, then it turns to a make out then reader slowly guides Jack into their wet cunt and goes down slowly and they moan into jacks mouth(you write what else happens here)
Im very lazy to write everything else so now you have freedom with the rest but take you time and notify me when your working on it and finish it!
Jack: Pizza Movie-Nothing But the Truth
🍕⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Summary: See ask above!!
Genre: Smut, kinda fluffy, porn with very little plot
CW: (BARELY PROOFREAD) GN!AFAB!Reader, no pronouns used, pet names used (Angel and Baby by Dustin, Baby by you), no use of y/n, second person point of view, kind of Switch!Dustin and Reader, unprotected p in v (don’t do this!! I just hate writing that part, sue me), creamp!e (expect it in every fic unless I’m explicitly told not to add it 😛), soft and semi-rough seggs (not really that rough, I’m sorry), spooning seggs, male masturbation, handj0b, oral (Reader receiving), cum eating (does that have an actual name??), Dustin is a certified munch, smoking and use of weed, that being said I think this could count as dub-con??, Jack whimpers because I said so, I think that’s it!!
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: I wrote this very quick in a determined and horny state, so if there are mistakes…pretend they don’t exist. I hope this satisfies the Jack lovers!! Smut isn’t my strong suit, but I work real hard for ya’ll 😭😭 Thank you for this request!! It was so delicious and I loved writing it.
🍕⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Montgomery leaves the dorm with a brief wave to Jack, telling him he’s going to sleep over in Lizzy’s dorm since her roommate had taken a trip back home. Jack isn’t always the most dirty-minded person, he’s surprisingly wholesome most of the time. But the moment Monty said he’d be out of the dorm, all Jack heard was “an opportunity to jerk off."
Having Monty as a roommate was great, he was his best friend after all! But he will admit there were some major downsides, like never being able to jerk it. It wasn’t so much of a big deal until he met you…something about you drove him crazy. He’d come back to his dorm with a boner almost every single day, and sometimes more than once a day. He thought it was absurd, he’s never had this kind of problem. You wouldn’t even do anything, just the mere sight of you worked him up.
You’d come over late at night to share your weed, rolling blunts and letting Monty try your pen. The way you blew the smoke out just made his brain go fuzzy, he thought it had been the weed at first. It wasn’t, and he learned that the hard way when you bent over in front of him, unaware that your shorts had ridden up. That same fuzziness returned to his brain, a fog, and he knew he was fucked.
He never complained. How could he possibly complain? You were the prettiest person he’s ever laid eyes on, and you wanted to be friends with him of all people. You wanted to smoke with him, lounge around and do nothing with him, you even started playing Wizard’s Oath with him and Monty whenever Lizzy wasn’t available.
So yeah, Jack liked you. He liked you too much, the feeling was bordering on love the longer you stuck around.
He should be ashamed of himself, lying in bed the very second his roommate has left. His phone in his left hand, scrolling through all the pictures he has of you. He really should be ashamed…but he’ll worry about that later. He can ignore his conscience for an hour or two, right? He’s already decided that yes, he can.
He took a long inhale on the weed pen you’d gifted him, telling him to use it when you weren’t available to roll him joints. Now seemed like the perfect time, everything felt better when he was high. He sets it back down on the desk near his bed, leaning back in bed as he scrolls to find the perfect photo of you.
That’s when he finds his favourite photo, not suggestive in any sense. You’re just smiling…smiling at him, with those sparkling eyes and enchanting grin. Jack’s never seen anyone look at him like that, especially not someone as pretty as you. The photo, and the mere memory of you smiling at him like he personally shot all the stars up into the night sky, is enough to send him reeling.
His hand slowly but surely slips down, pulling the waistband of his boxers and sweatpants down just enough for his cock to spring free. He greedily wraps his hand around the base, slowly dragging it up and collecting the precum at the tip. He drags it back down, setting a teasing pace as he commits your every feature to memory.
It doesn’t take long for Jack’s moans to grow louder. Without Monty in the dorm he was free to be as loud as he liked. He’s always been a bit loud with his noises, another reason he avoided jerking off when Monty was around. He’s tried countless times to quiet himself, tried to train himself into shutting the fuck up. All to no avail.
He knows a lot of the girls around campus don’t like loud guys. He wonders if you think the way they do, if you’d think it was weird…that he was weird. He shakes the thought away, quickly taking another puff from his vape to ease his racing thoughts.
You were in your own dorm right across from Jack and Monty’s. Your roommate was out a lot, basically living in her boyfriend’s dorm. You were thankful for this as you could smoke as much as you pleased, since your roommate hated the smell.
You tilt your head back and let it hit the couch cushions, blowing a large puff of smoke past your lips. You giggle to yourself, eyes drooping as you blink groggily. You finish your blunt and grab the bottle of water nearby, chugging it as you feel like you’re suddenly dying of thirst. That’s when your stomach starts to rumble, craving any horrible junk food you own. The munchies.
You snatch a bag of your favorite chips, a candy bar, and a giant bowl of popcorn. You set it all on the coffee table and sit on the floor in front of it, already cramming food in your mouth. You grab your phone to turn up your music when you hear something. Your brows furrow and you turn it down instead, trying to listen in on the sounds you’re hearing like a radio tower.
You hear moans coming from the dorm across from you, Jack’s dorm. Your eyes widen and you quickly scramble up from the floor. If you weren’t totally fucking stoned, you would have clocked the situation immediately. Those were so obviously moans of pleasure, and it was very obvious what he was doing. But to your current mind the sounds meant he was hurt, and you needed to help him.
You turn the handle of the door before bothering to knock, on the offhand chance that the door is unlocked. Which it was…because Jack was too focused on getting his dick out to lock it. You whip the door open and are met with a sight you never would have expected.
A lot of the time, in moments similar to these -in reality but mostly in movies- they always say that time seems to slow. That absolutely does not apply here. Everything goes from 1 to 100 within less than a full second, you physically have to restart your brain to replay the moment like a film in your head.
Jack lying in his bed, pants pulled down and a hand still actively stroking himself. His phone is in his left hand, eyes locked on the screen. The moment he realizes what’s happening, he throws his phone across the room and pulls at the sheets. He bunches them up in his lap to hide what you’ve already seen most of.
You shake your head when it all finally processes, and his words push past your skull soon after.
“What the hell are you doing?!” He yells, cheeks flushed.
“I just…thought-“ Your eyes notice his phone on the floor, only a foot away from you. Jack sees your eyes land on it and he prays to God he locked it. You pick it up and hold it up in front of your face. Unfortunately for Jack, he doesn’t have much luck locking anything today. Your eyes are met with a picture of yourself…the picture he was staring at while jerking off.
“It isn’t what you think.” Jack says quickly.
“Were you jerking off to a picture of me?” You ask, holding back a smirk.
“No! It must’ve just…scrolled to a different picture when I threw it.” He makes up a lie on the spot. You slowly nod, not believing him as you scroll away from the image to find the perfect evidence to prove he’s a goddamn liar. It was an album of you, titled with your name and little heart.
“Really?” You say, fully smirking now. “Because you’re in an album that’s dedicated to photos of me.” You turn the screen around to wave it in his face.
“That’s not-I didn’t-I’m not…” He tries to stutter out a retort, any kind of retort.
“Jack, knock it off.” You say impatiently, his mouth snapping shut. “Were you or were you not jerking off to me?”
“I wasn’t!”
“Jack!” You yell before he can say anything else. “The truth, now.”
“I…I didn’t-“ He looks halfway to tears from the embarrassment.
“Answer the damn question!”
“Yes!” He shouts, swallowing a lump in his throat so the next words don’t come out cracked. “Yes…I’m sorry, I just-“
“Shut up.” You say, quickly turning to slam the door shut and lock it. You march over to him and watch his eyes widen as he tries to figure out what your plan is. You lock his phone and set it on his desk before climbing onto his bed.
“W-What are you doing?” He asks nervously.
“Jack.” You whisper, your hands gently resting on either side of his face. “Do you want me?” Your breath fans across his own lips and he has to stop his hips from jerking up.
“I-“
“The truth, Jack.” You lean in closer, so close he can feel the warmth from your mouth and your breath.
“Yes…I always have, I always do and will. I-“ You cut him off by connecting your lips, pulling the bunched up sheets away while his senses are distracted. You suddenly pull away, just enough to glance down for a closer view of his cock.
“Don’t just stare at it, please.” He says shyly.
“Never thought I’d be telling a guy that his dick is pretty, but here we are.” You chuckle, tentatively wrapping a hand around him until he gasps. “Dicks are never pretty, they’re honestly very strange looking…but somehow yours is just so pretty.” You sigh, your body heating up at the sound of his muffled whines. “Every part of you is pretty.”
“You t-think I’m pretty?” He stutters out, barely meeting your gaze as his eyes start to flutter shut in pleasure.
“Of course I do.”
“You’re pretty too.” He replies.
“Clearly you think so.” You chuckle, squeezing your fist around his dick. He lets out a single unrestrained whimper before quickly quieting himself again. “Stop doing that.” You whisper with a pout.
“D-doing what?” Jack asks.
“Trying to be quiet.” You frown. “I want to hear you…want to hear how good I’m making you feel.” You lean in again, starting to trail kisses down his neck. He whimpers louder now, more unguarded. You whisper into his skin that he’s a ‘good boy,’ and he whines with a buck of his hips at the praise.
You only give him a few more pumps before he’s gripping your wrist and prying your hand away. You pull back from his neck with a nervous expression.
“I’m sorry, did I-“ His hands shoot out and land on your waist, gently tugging at the bottom of your shirt.
“Off…please?” Something about the way he looks at you then drives you crazy.
“Fuck.” You breathe, quickly pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it to the side. Jack stares at the black lace of your bra, pretty but not too delicate looking like some other lingerie. It cups your tits perfectly, a fact that Jack obviously notices. “You can touch me, Jack.” You say softly, grabbing one of his hands and resting it over your breast.
“You’re sure?” He asks.
“Sure of what? That you can touch me, or that I want to fuck you right now?” You tilt your head to the side and smirk when he flusters.
“You…want to have sex with me? Seriously?”
“Why the hell else would I be sitting in your lap right now, letting you grope my tits after giving you a literal handjob?” You retort snottily. “Yes, stupid, I want to have sex with you.”
“Right now?”
“If that’s okay with you.” You smile and he nods frantically.
“Yes, of course!-“ He clears his throat when his voice comes out squeaky. “I mean, yeah, that’s cool. Whatever.” He feigns nonchalance.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act all tough guy, macho, thinks he knows what he’s doing but can’t even find the clit. I don’t like it, that’s not you and that’s why I like you. You’re…you’re sweet and shy, and gentle.”
“You like me?” Jack asks with a shaky voice.
“Of course I do. I’ve been trying to hint it to you for months.” You laugh.
“Months?!”
“Since that party at Callie’s dorm.” You reply with a smile. “You were spouting some bullshit about some book you read, debating whether or not it was good even though I had no argument. You were basically just arguing with yourself and directing it at me. That’s when I thought…’I want to spend the rest of my life with this nerd.’”
“That’s a long time.”
“Too long for you?”
“Fuck no.” He says roughly, pulling you back in for a deep kiss. You reach around to undo the clasp of your bra as you kiss him. The second it hits the floor Jack is pulling away, staring at your tits with zero shame in his face. You sit up on your knees as you shimmy your pants down and off, throwing them to the side too.
“Jack…you’re staring.” You say quietly. You open your mouth to say something else but are cut off by a loud and abrupt tearing sound. Jack’s hands had gripped onto the waistband of your underwear as he tore them right down the middle. Your breathing quickens at the action alone, and you watch as embarrassment slowly creeps up in his expression.
“I’m sorry, I have no idea-“
“Shut up.” You breathe, shoving your lips against his once more. You don’t pull away from him as you rip your underwear the rest of the way and pull them off. You pull away briefly as you help him pull off his own shirt, quickly reconnecting your lips.
Jack experimentally rolls his tongue forward so it nudges yours. You respond immediately, moving your tongue with his as you practically inhale each other’s faces. You move your legs to straddle him more comfortably, lowering yourself just enough so the head of his cock meets your soaked folds. He pulls away with a strangled whine, looking down at where you’re currently grinding against him.
“You’re still sure?” He asks quietly.
“Absolutely…are you?”
“What am I an idiot?” He huffs. “Yes, I’m sure.” You chuckle at his response and reach down, grabbing hold of his cock to line it up with your entrance.
“You done this before?” You ask, slowly lowering yourself until his tip slips inside of you.
“Once or twice…you?”
“A few times, only with one person though.” You sigh, slowly easing yourself lower as you sink down onto his dick. When you push the rest of the way, your ass meeting his thighs as he bottoms out, you both moan simultaneously.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Jack whispers, leaning in to lick at one of your nipples. “Can’t believe this is finally happening.”
“Me neither.” You breathe, lifting your hips up before quickly sinking back down. You both moan at the sensation, your eyes rolling back into your head. “Fuck you feel so good.” You groan.
“Think I should be the one s-saying that.” He mumbles, his hands at your hips as he helps guide you up and down when you pick up your pace.
“Feels good, baby?” You whisper sweetly.
“Fuck, yes.” He whines, burying his face in your neck. He starts to grind his hips up to meet your movements. Jack notices when you start to slow down, your legs aching as you lose energy. “Come here.” He helps you lie down, pulling out so he could move and fit himself right behind you. “This okay?”
“Mhm.” You hum, your hand reaching back to tangle in his hair. He slowly sinks inside of you again, this time he sets the pace and he starts out brutal. “Shit!” You shout, eyes squeezed shut as he pistons his cock in you. You can hear every time his hips smack into your ass, on every rough thrust. “Jack!” You moan, pulling his hair.
“Louder, please…please, baby.” He whimpers.
“Jack, fuck!” You yell louder, just as he’d asked.
“Sound so fucking good, so pretty moaning my name like that.” He groans, shoving his face into your neck and leaving little lovebites there.
“Jack…” You grab his hand that’s on your waist, moving it down so he’ll rub at your clit. He allows you to move him in the exact direction, pushing his fingers directly against the bud. You cry out at the feeling, only growing louder when he starts to move his fingers in circles. “I-I’m gonna-“
“Yeah…I know, baby.” He whispers, biting and kissing your neck. “Come on…cum for me, Angel. Want to feel it…fuck, I wanna feel it so bad.” Jack whines pathetically. You cum around him with a few more deep thrusts and circles around your clit. He muffles his loud groans into your neck, his hips jerking up erratically as he chases his own release.
“Jack…please, want you to cum in me.” You whisper, still tugging at his hair. “Please, Jack.” He releases a strangled sound at your words, his hips stopping abruptly as he buries himself deep. He cums inside you, filling you up with more overstimulated whines slipping past his lips.
He slowly lifts his head back up and away from your neck. He pulls back and pulls out gently, apologizing when you whimper in protest. He rolls you onto your back, moving to hover above you.
“Think you can give me one more?” He asks sweetly.
“Uh huh.” You reply weakly, hips already bucking up in anticipation.
“Such a good girl…so good to me, Angel.” He crawls down your body, peppering kisses across every inch of skin he can reach. You start to whine and tell him to hurry, your impatience shining through. Jack smiles to himself before swiping his tongue through your folds. He collects every drop of his cum that’s leaked out of you, swallowing it with the taste of your own arousal mixed in. He moans against you, the vibrations making your legs shake.
“Jack.” You whine weakly.
“Mm?” He hums against you, dipping his tongue in your entrance before wrapping his lips around your clit.
“Oh shit!” You scream when he starts sucking harshly, pulling it into his mouth and licking at it. “Jack…please.” Your hands move to grip his hair again, grinding down against his face. He whimpers in return, loving the feeling of you using him for your own pleasure.
“You close, baby?” He pulls away to ask, quickly licking your clit again.
“Yes, yes, Jack!” You moan, back arching. “Please…oh fuck.” Your head tilts back, eyes rolling into your head as your body starts to twitch.
“Come on.” He says, the words muffled as he slurps you down like you’re a goddamn slushie. Your vision goes white when you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, little flecks of color bursting behind your eyelids. Your legs twitch around his head, your back arching and hips bucking up wildly. Jack drags it out for as long as possible, swallowing every bit of your cum. You start to push at his head, muttering gibberish that he assumes is you asking him to stop.
He pulls back and crawls up your body, pressing gentle kisses everywhere.
“Are you okay?” He asks quietly.
“Perfect.” You whisper with a giddy smile. “So perfect.” Jack smiles in turn and cuddles up next to you.
“‘M love you, Jack.” You mutter into his chest.
“I love you too, Angel.” He whispers with a grin, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent with fluttering lashes.
hai !! do you have any male reader fics in the works?
Not currently, but I do have a few male and masc reader requests!! I will eventually get to them, and now that I know someone else is interested I'll make sure that's the next one I work on!! 💕💕💖 (I still have two or three WIPs that I need to finish first.)
Hi girllll I was wondering if your back to writing? Cause I was just wondering if you have started on the Jack (the pizza movie) x fem!reader(or gn!afab!reader) smut that I requested? If not that's fine I've just been wondering lol! Anyway hope you've been doing good ❤
I am back to writing, and I have started your request!! Should be finished soon 😏😏💖💖💕
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Haii! I was the one who asked about the dustin requests lol! im kinda embarrassed to ask since it was a couple months back but could you do another fic about the reader being a freak about Dustins wounds? and like they're a perverted loser who likes blood and stuff but they respect consent ofc so they're like so nervous and always asking if they're going too far or anything but Dustin's kinda into it so doesn't mind how crazy she is lol (*´꒳`*) if you're not comfortable with this that's totally okay!!! and just a little thought to add on but that sound on tiktok from lollipop chainsaw with Juliet trying on the clothes is so Dustin x reader coded oh em gee!
Dustin Henderson-Scarlet Stains and Mental Strains
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Summary: Seeing Dustin bleeding and injured always awakens something in you, this time you finally say something. Much to your surprise…Dustin isn’t disgusted with you, actually he’s far from it.
Alternatively: Reader explores her bl00d kink while Dustin discovers his pain kink/masochism.
Genre: Hurt/comfort kinda, smut, no fluff it’s just nasty perverted smut, does this qualify as dead dove: do not eat?? Idk.
CW: (BARELY PROOFREAD) Fem!Reader, Bi/Pan!Reader (very very brief mention), pet names used (baby, sweetheart and my perfect girl by Dustin), no pronouns used but Reader is repeatedly referred to as a ‘girl’ and Dustin’s ‘girlfriend’, second person point of view, no use of y/n because I lowkey hate it, bl00d kink, pain kink, Dustin is literally a complete masochist, Dustin is technically seventeen in season 5 but I’ve aged him and Reader up to be eighteen, mentions of PDA (you both love it), clingy Dustin, Steve is a horror movie fanatic idfc I said what I said, faint sub/dom dynamics, Sub!Dustin and Dom!Reader, Dustin acts more like a switch honestly, Dustin begs and says ‘please’ like a good boy, pinky promises are a very sacred thing, unprotected p in v (don’t do this!! Wrap it up ya’ll), creamp!e (I will not apologize), overstimulation if you squint real hard, I think that’s all!!
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: Yeah so…I just realized this is probably a lot more than you bargained for 😭😭😭 Your request awakened something in me, I’ve never written anything involving bl00d kinks even though I have a big one. When I saw this request my clit quite literally took control of the keyboard, I had no say in the matter. This fic comes to you from her and her alone, she’s who I blame for my perverse behavior. ANYWAY, thank you so much for this request and I hope this isn’t too much. Safe to say I definitely did NOT find your request weird, considering I only made it weirder. Thank you for sending it in, I love you anon!!! (Seriously, this request is godly) 💖💖💖💕💕💕
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You’re perverted. Plain and simple. You are a complete and utter pervert.
You’ve always had a little thing for blood, finding people in films ten times hotter when they were bleeding and in pain. Man or woman it didn’t matter, if they were bleeding and whimpering you were leaving a snail trail on your fucking seat.
So this wasn’t anything new. What was new was seeing Dustin coated in blood.
You couldn’t tell where his blood began and his enemies’ ended. He was covered in it, all over his body. Light splatters or fully caked on, there was blood everywhere. You were supposed to be taking care of him, cleaning his wounds and bandaging them up. Usually you would be, but everyone else was in the room and you couldn’t risk them seeing you drool over your bloody fucking boyfriend.
So you leaned against the wall while Joyce patched him up on the couch. Your eyes never once left him, repeatedly scanning his body over and over. You’re not sure if anyone’s noticed you’re staring and frankly…you don’t give a single shit right now. Dustin looks too good…sounds too good when Joyce wraps the bandage too tight or pushes on one of his wounds.
The high-pitched, strangled sort of whine that comes from deep in his throat and never passes his lips. It just sort of rumbles out of him.
You keep adjusting your position, switching which hip you cock out. You shift your weight from right to left, right to left, rubbing your thighs together every time. You hope that your friends just take it as you being anxious and overwhelmed.
You try to listen to the new plan they’ve come up with for the next crawl, you really do try. But your efforts are all in vain as your eyes continue to trace Dustin’s form. The blood was mostly wiped away, but you could see remaining smears and smudges of scarlet. He immediately walked over to you when Joyce had finished, his arm wrapped around your waist as he holds you close against his side.
You both never really shied away from PDA. You both loved to touch each other, innocent or not. Why would you stop for anyone else? Of course, you don’t go around making out in front of a bunch of people or your friends. You both agreed that was too much, and honestly a bit disgusting. But Dustin always held your hand, grabbed your arms, squeezed your thigh under a table, wrapped his arm around you protectively. He could never keep his hands off you for long.
Your hand drifted down to his abdomen, where a large white bandage was wrapped around. Just underneath was a large gash he’d received from a Demogorgon. The sneaky little fuck creeped up on him without a single sound, luckily Dustin had semi-quick reflexes. He was smart, he knew when to fight and when to flee. The second he heard that low growl he jerked away, taking only a brunt of the attack.
Your fingertips gently brushed across the bandage, trying to map out where exactly the wound sat underneath. Where did it start and where did it end? You wanted to find out, you couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Hey, lovebirds.” Steve’s voice pulls you from your trance. You instantly rip your hand back and let it fall at your side, like he’d just caught you in some compromising position. Truthfully he had, but you were the only one aware of it. No one else knew your thoughts, all they saw was a devoted girlfriend comforting her beloved boyfriend. “Did you hear a single word I said?”
“Yeah.” You both say at the same time, always so in sync it creeped everyone else out.
“You two need to stop doing that. This isn’t ‘Sisters,’ knock it off.” He grimaced.
“Sisters?” Will asks, head tilted slightly to the side with his brows furrowed.
“Yeah…the horror movie? Conjoined twins, murder?” Everyone looks at him strangely. “Whatever, just quit saying shit at the same time and in the same tone alright? It’s fuckin’ creepy.”
“Okay.” Dustin answers with a laugh and luckily you don’t say a single thing, avoiding annoying Steve even more. Everyone splits up, going to different houses as they all start giving in to exhaustion. You barely make it to Dustin’s house on your own two feet, constantly stumbling and swaying. Somehow you manage it, and follow him to his bedroom on tip-toes past his mother’s room.
“I think I’m dead.” You groan quietly, immediately falling face first onto his bed.
“You aren’t dead, don’t talk like that.” Dustin frowns.
“You’re too serious. Are you still tense?” You ask, lifting your head up to look at him as he sits on the bed next to you.
“Considering I was almost mauled by a Demogorgon, yeah I’d say I’m still a little tense.” He says sarcastically.
“Don’t take that tone with me.” You say, voice lowering in warning. Dustin’s eyes flit back to yours frantically.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He says softly. “I just-“
“What if I took your mind off it?” You broach the subject, looking away shyly.
“And…how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
“I dunno.” You shrug, cheeks growing hot. “Just…” You look back up, intending to meet his gaze but your eyes lock on his bandaged waist. He’d taken his shirt off, allowing you to see the entirety of his torso. The white bandage turning red as his blood seeps through. Your mouth starts salivating and you’re certain of it now…you’re a fucking vampire.
With Demogorgons, fucking Vecna and a Mind Flayer running around, Vampires didn’t seem so crazy. You must’ve gotten bit at some point, making you hungry for your own boyfriend’s blood. There wasn’t any other logical explanation, clearly something was wrong with you. All you could think about was ripping that bandage off and licking all the blood away.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Dustin’s voice pulls your gaze back up to his face.
“Like what?” You feign innocence. Play dumb. Like playing dead except this is a way to protect your dignity, not your life.
“Like you want to eat me.” He chuckles. You don’t reply, you simply swallow and slowly let your eyes drift back down to his middle. “Okay, now you’re freaking me out.” Those words snap you out of it.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” You shake your head, like that will help erase every perverted thought you have. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”
“Mean to what? Why were you staring at me like that?” Dustin asks, hand gently resting on your upper arm after you look away.
“Your…” You hesitate. “I can’t say it out loud.” You whisper weakly.
“Why not?” Dustin pouts. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets.”
“If I tell you, you’ll just think I’m weird and creepy.” You sigh, running your hands up through your hair.
“No I won’t.”
“Yeah right.” You scoff.
“Just tell me, baby…please.” You could never deny him when he begged like that, and he fucking knew it. The conniving little shit.
“I haven’t been able to stop staring at you since you got hurt.” You breathe. “That’s why I insisted Joyce help you, I couldn’t risk everyone seeing how fucking insane and depraved I am.”
“Baby…what are you talking about?”
“I was horny, alright?” You blurt out. “I still am. You’re fucking…you’re bleeding and before you were whining every time she touched the gash in your side. I swear I-“ You pause, looking at his torso yet again. “I’m a fucking Vampire or something…I just want to…to lick it away.” You swallow thickly, hoping you’ll swallow away your arousal too. It doesn’t work.
“You…what?” Dustin’s hand falls away from your arm and you swear you can feel your heart break. This is the part where he calls you crazy, dumps you and kicks you to the curb.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper brokenly.
“You…you’re turned on because I’m hurt and bleeding?”
“It sounds so bad when you say it…god, I’m so sorry.” You groan, face falling into your hands.
“You want to…lick my blood?”
“Dustin…please, I’m sorry.”
“Answer the question.” He demands, he needs the confirmation. He needs to know you’re serious and that he heard you correctly before he makes his next move.
“Yes.” You mumble. “I’m sorry.”
“Then do it.”
“I-“ You whip your head up and away from your hands, meeting his eyes with an astonished expression. “What?”
“Lick my blood…if you want to.” He chokes out.
“You…are you serious?” Your brows furrow, jaw slack as you stare at him.
“Deadly.” You hold out your pinky to him and he takes it without a moment’s hesitation, interlocking it with his.
“You’ll stop me if you hate it? Or if it grosses you out, or-“
“Yes.” Dustin cuts you off. “I’ll tell you.” You wait a few more moments in the deep silence.
“Okay.” You practically pounce on him, pushing him to lay on his back before straddling him. You make sure to hold yourself up and not put pressure on any of his injuries. You kiss him first, because you don’t think you can just drink your boyfriend’s blood without at least kissing him first. Like foreplay. Very dirty foreplay. You pull away and meet his eyes again, his pupils already blown wide from a single kiss.
“You’re-“
“Yes, I’m sure.” He cuts you off impatiently. The truth is he wants this just as much as you do. Fuck, he may even want it more than you do. The moment the words left your lips his stomach was twisting with red hot exhilaration. His cock quickly hardened in his jeans, something he really hoped you hadn’t noticed.
The mere thought of your lips and tongue washing away the blood at his side…it had him reeling.
“Okay.” You whisper, shimmying yourself down his body so your face is right in front of his wounded side. You help him unwrap the bandage and pull it away, comforting him when he whimpers…and also squeezing your thighs together with a muffled groan of your own.
You lean down slowly, tentatively…giving him every chance to push you away should he change his mind. His hands stay tangled in the sheets.
You poke your tongue out experimentally, leaving a small kitten lick over a sliver of blood. You pull your tongue back and moan at the metallic taste. You go back for more, licking away a larger portion. The second your eyes flutter closed in bliss, Dustin groans.
“Please.” He whispers. Your eyes flit back open, meeting his dark eyes. “Please.” You lean down again, keeping the eye contact as you lick a long stripe across the remaining blood. You slurp it all up with one single drag of your tongue and it has him groaning again, hips bucking up in response.
You lift yourself up, ready to pull your tongue back and taste him again…but Dustin’s hand laces in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you close and crashing your lips together. He immediately licks into your mouth, moaning at the taste of his blood on your tongue. You moan in return, both of you swallowing the sounds with more muffled moans and whines.
You finally pull away from his mouth, panting as you rest your forehead against his.
“Seems like you’re just as crazy as I am.” You joke with a huffed out laugh.
“It would appear so.” He replies with a dizzying smirk.
“Dustin.” You whisper, moving up so you can straddle him again.
“Mhm?”
“If I…told you I was absolutely fucking soaked right now, would that make you think I’m weird?” You ask quietly, eyes locked on his without straying this time.
“I’d be a hypocrite if I did.” He whispers back, grabbing your hand and gently resting it over the tent in his jeans.
“Holy shit.” You gasp, squeezing him through the denim and making him cry out for you.
“Please, baby.” He begs.
“Say it.” You demand, squeezing him again.
“I need to be inside of you…sweetheart, please.” He says with glassy eyes.
“All you have to do is ask.” You say, quickly helping him strip you both of your clothes. You settle back into his lap and his hands instinctively grip onto your hips, pulling you closer. You kiss him gently, letting him pull your hips down further so you can rub against him. You both moan into the kiss, the vibrations only adding to your arousal.
You figured that’d be the end of it, wanting to lick his blood was absurd enough on its own. You figured there’d be nothing else that freaky you could pull, that the rest of this encounter would be as vanilla as usual. And you were right, you didn’t pull anything else…he did. When your hand accidentally brushed over his side, sending a shocking pain through his body. He whines and bucks his hips up into you.
“Shit…I’m so sorry, I forgot.” You breathe through a moan. “We should stop…re-bandage it and-“
“Do it again.” Three words. With just three fucking words he manages to short circuit your brain.
“What?” You croak.
“Please…don’t make me say it again.” He sounds so whiny, so pathetic and desperate…what kind of psycho would you be to deny him now?
“Just-“ You mumble, slowly lifting your hand to hover over his wound. “Like this?” You gently brush your fingers over it again and he gasps, his hips thrusting up into you and making you moan.
“Harder.” He begs, resuming his earlier pace as he awaits your burning touch. You apply a bit of pressure to it and he practically fucking growls, a low and dangerous sound coming from deep inside his chest. The sound distracts you and he takes your distraction as a chance to switch positions. He rolls you onto your back and hovers above you, shoving himself as deep as he can go.
You muffle your cries with your hand, your other still resting near his wounded side.
“Please…again.” He breathes shakily. You push harder this time and it makes him unravel. He bottoms out inside of you, head falling to the crook of your neck to muffle the lewd and sinful sound he releases. He fills you up, thrusts his cum deep inside of you with a feverish jerk of his hips.
“I’m sorry…fuck, it just felt so good.” He pants into your neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” You whisper, your back arching so you can press closer to him. “That was so fucking hot, Dusty.” You mutter. “Didn’t know you could be such a freak…now we’re even.” You smirk, shoving your face into his hair.
“Gonna make it up to you.” He says weakly, hips slowly picking up a steady pace again.
“You…Dusty, you don’t have to.” You say through a whine.
“Please…I want to make you cum. Want to make my perfect girl feel good.” He says mindlessly.
“Yeah…” You whisper, immediately giving in. “Okay.” You nod and throw your head back against the pillows.
