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junovrsmp4 · 27 days

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three is not a crowd

5 times Chris walks in on you and Matt fucking + 1 time he gets to join in on the fun

pairing: established!matt x reader, chris x reader, matt x reader x chris

summary: what it says on the tin basically

warnings: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, dick riding, oral (female & male receiving), teasing, edging, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, p in v, slight degradation/praising, slight angst, happy ending yay

word count: 6.9K

author’s note: im a whore for both of them. that is all. (also this has plot, and is mostly beta read but i havent slept in hrs so if some mistakes did slip thru my bad

“Hey Matt, have you seen my-” Chris begins to ask as he pushes Matt’s bedroom door open, expecting his brother to either be lazing around in bed or be at his desk, gaming.

What he doesn't expect is the sight he is instead greeted by, of you, Matt’s girlfriend of the last year and a half, astride Matt’s lap, riding his dick while he leans against his headboard, head thrown back and hands grabbing your hips, guiding you, slowly.

Chris is shocked, understandably, and he should just turn around and book it. Instead, he stands frozen, watching the way your head is nestled into the crook of Matt’s neck, your shoulders shaking. If Chris ignores the sound of his own pounding heart, he can almost hear the soft whimpers you’re letting out at each downward thrust of your hips.

At the sound of a soft, deep groan, Chris’ attention shifts to Matt, who has his eyes shut, and his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. There’s something surreal about this scene, seeing Matt, who looks nothing like Chris, but also looks the most like him, fucking this beautiful girl who’s been on his mind for months now.

“Matt…,” he hears you whine loudly against his brother’s neck, and Chris has to grit his teeth, fight against the urge to shove his hands into his pants and fist his growing erection. This shouldn't turn him on so much, hell, he shouldn't even be here right now. He should have run in the opposite direction as soon as he realized what he’d walked in on, but he’s mesmerized by the way you move, your back arching as your hips move back and forth. The slow, sensual, almost hypnotic, movements of your body as you ride Matt’s dick has him clenching his fists, nails digging into his palms and it’s easy to imagine him in Matt’s place as he gets this view of what it might look like to fuck you. Your moans grow louder, and Chris thinks it might be because you’re getting close, and god, he feels so hot underneath his skin.

“Shh baby, didn't you say we needed to be quiet?” Matt whispers against the side of your head. “Can’t have Chris hearing us, can we?”

At the sound of his name, Chris’ heart hammers faster, and he looks up at Matt’s face, only to see that his brother’s gaze was already on him, watching him with a slight smirk before thrusting his hips up, presumably driving his cock deeper into you, making you moan even louder than you already were.

Breaking out of his stupor, Chris stumbles backwards before hightailing it to his room, slamming the door behind him. It takes all of five seconds for him to get his cock out of his sweatpants, furiously jerking off as he leans against his door, biting into the hem of his t-shirt that he’d pulled up over his chest, and only another five seconds before he shoots his cum all over himself.

Chris knows its wrong, wanting his brother's girl. This was never a problem before, because any time he found out Matt liked someone, Chris immediately lost interest. It was the brothers’ code; they never fought over girls, and besides, they always just liked different ones.

You, though…it was hard not to like you, even after he found out Matt had his eyes on you.

Chris remembers the first time he met you, how nice you’d been to him and his brothers, how easily you’d fit into their lives. He’s not going to lie and say he’d wanted you right from the start. It was a gradual thing, slowly creeping up on him before he realized what had gotten him.

You just made him feel so comfortable, and surprisingly, the two of you had a lot in common. But then again, you had a lot in common with Matt, and Nick. And yet, you were so different. You were smart, playful, and so, so kind. You were just the right amount of goofy and serious, and you just, fit well into the dynamic Chris and his brothers shared.

It shouldn't have surprised him when Matt eventually told him and Nick that he was into you and planned to ask you out. It all happened so quickly after that. You and Matt had gotten together and, now you weren't just the new friend that Chris and his brothers were always hanging out with, but his brother's (his brother who was also his best friend, really) girlfriend.

Which is why Chris knows it’s fucked up. Wanting you. And he knows it’s even more fucked up that he wishes he could have a repeat of what happened a few weeks ago when he accidentally walked in on you and Matt. The amount of times he’s jacked off to that memory alone the past few nights is insane, his mind supplying images to create his own version of events where he doesn't run away.

Especially fucked up is the fact that Matt had seen him, had looked cocky that he’d caught Chris watching them, and even that fact hadn’t deterred Chris from chasing orgasm after orgasm to the thought of fucking you, imagining how tight and wet your pussy might be, what it might taste like.

Speaking of the fucker who seemed totally unfazed by recent events, Matt sat across Chris, scrolling through his phone, while Nick sat beside him, editing their latest video. Chris was trying his hardest not to flip the fuck out, but his whole nervous system seemed like it was fried. Nick had already yelled at him twice to stop moving so much because he was apparently jostling the table too much, and Matt had just let out a bemused chuckle without lifting his eyes from his phone the entire time.

Just as Chris was about to get up and retreat to him room, the doorbell rings, before Matt gets a series of texts.

“Oh, she’s here-” Matt says, before shooting out of his chair and rushing to great you at the front door.

“Hey, hey, hey!” your cheery voice rings through the hallway, as you and Matt make your way into the kitchen, and Chris almost chokes on the sip of Pepsi he’d just taken because holy fuck-

You were wearing a short, tight black dress that hugged the lines and curves of your body just right, the square neckline barely covering your chest. His eyes slipped further down to the way the fabric of the dress cinched at your waist, and to the slit at the side of the dress that came up to mid-thigh. That and the combination of tall strappy heels you had on made your legs look…really good. So good that Chris wishes he was between those legs, licking a path up your calf to your inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses to mar the smooth, unblemished skin of your legs, before finally, finally-

Nick hoots just then, exclaiming about how hot your fit looks, pulling Chris out of his daze. He watches as you bask in the compliments being showered onto you by both Nick and Matt now, and can't help but smile at the way you try to hide your blushing face.

So, it’s completely out of left field when he sees you again later that night, sitting on the couch with your hands covering your face but this time it’s to hide the loud moans that threaten to slip from your mouth as you watch Matt kneel in front of you, his mouth pressing kisses into your inner thighs…just like Chris had imagined doing earlier.

It’s ridiculous really, how Chris had been feeling slightly normal after dinner with you and his brothers, because as awkward as he may have been feeling about you and Matt, being around you and his brothers, having good food and just laughing about random shit made him feel really fucking good. Like everything was normal and he wasn't fantasizing about fucking his brother’s girlfriend. Like he hadn't accidentally walked in on them fucking.

Of course it’s just his fucking luck that as soon he’s feeling just that slightest bit of normalcy, he’d decided to go to the kitchen and grab a Pepsi from the fridge at 3 AM, only to find his brother about to eat you out on the couch.

“Matt-” you whine, as your back arches off the couch, one of your hands moving to grab Matt’s hair, the other trying and failing to hold back your moans. “Matt, please- nnggh- stop teasing.”

Chris feels all his blood rush down south and it leaves him lightheaded. The low lighting in the room accentuates the shadows of your body and he can see the muscles in your legs flex as your thighs clench around Matt’s head, trying to get him to move his mouth closer to where you want him. You’re not in the tight black dress he’d seen you in earlier, but in a blue baby tee and black lace-trimmed hipster briefs. There’s an almost imperceptible quiver that wracks through your entire body in anticipation for what’s to come.

Matt doesn't keep you waiting for long. Chris' breathing grows even more jagged as he watches Matt’s fingers push your panties to the side before he runs his tongue flat up your pussy. Chris can't see as much as he’d like to, but his overactive imagination does the job for him, imagining how wet you must be.

Chris feels like such a sick perv for still standing there, watching with wide eyes as Matt (his literal brother) enthusiastically licks and kisses your pussy, and he almost wonders how neither of you haven't noticed him yet. Then again, you and Matt seem so lost in each other, and now there’s another ugly thought circling Chris’ brain, one that makes his chest hurt a little.

He forgoes his Pepsi for the night and quietly returns back to his room, cock half-hard, and his heart just the slightest bit heavy.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Nick asks him, while his eyes are still fixed on his phone.

He and Chris were sitting on the couch (Chris had been avoiding the section that you and Matt had used during your late night rendezvous), and Chris was idly flipping through his Netflix watch list.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Chris says with a heavy sigh, slumping further into the couch.

It’s quiet, and the silence makes Chris look up at Nick, who was already looking at him with a curious frown.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you?” Nick asks, and he actually looks concerned, which throws Chris off a bit. “You’re usually bouncing off the walls and annoying the shit out of everyone in your nearest vicinity, but lately you've just been, I don't know- I’m like actually worried, did something happen? Is everything okay?”

Chris swallows around the lump that had formed in his throat and takes a minute. To do what, he doesn't know. It’s not like he’s going to prepare himself to tell Nick what he’d witnessed, twice, and how he was feeling about it. Really, how does one go about telling their triplet brother that they’d accidentally witnessed their other brother in an intimate situation with said brother’s partner, not once, but twice, and had enjoyed it, to the point of having nightly fantasies about it?

There were more complicated feelings lurking just under the surface, more than just Chris wanting to fuck you, but he did not have the mental bandwidth to unpack all that, so that was that. It’s not like he had honest to god feelings-

“See, at this point, you would’ve been yapping away-” Nick says, interrupting his train of thought, “-but instead, you’re just sitting there, looking all sad and miserable.”

“Okay, I don't look sad and miserable,” Chris says with a roll of his eyes. At least, he hopes he doesn't. “I’m just tired dude. Haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“Right.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Didn't say you were lying,” Nick says, matter-of-factually, in that signature Nick tone that lets everyone know when he isn't buying their bullshit.

“I’m fine,” Chris says slowly, waiting for Nick to stop looking at him so intensely.

“Sure,” Nick drawls out. “You’re also a shitty liar.”

“Fuck you,” Chris grumbles, chucking the TV remote at Nick, who flails to try and dodge it, letting out an indignant squawk when it bounces off his shoulder and falls to the ground.

This, of course, results in Nick throwing whatever was closest to him at Chris, which happens to be an empty water bottle, and eventually they're just chucking it back and forth, cursing at each other in between laughter.

It’s the most relaxed Chris has felt in weeks.

Too bad you had to walk in at that exact moment.

“Hey guys!” you say cheerily, plopping down on the couch, next to Chris. You’d stayed over for a couple of nights now, as you usually do, and Chris should be extremely used to your presence, except he feels his skin prickle as soon as your close to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin.

“God, how are you so chipper every morning?” Nick asks, shaking his head with a poorly hidden smile.

You twirl a strand of your hair around your finger, and bit the corner of your bottom lip. “It helps that I wake up to one of the hottest guys ever, and then get to hang out with his hot as fuck brothers,” you say with a smirk, waggling your eyebrows at Nick.

Chris wishes you hadn't just said that because now his mind wanders (more like sprints) to the memory of this morning, when he’d walked past Matt’s open bedroom. He’d heard the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your voice, whining Matt’s name over and over, which had him stopping right before Matt’s door, eyes wide, mouth agape. This couldn't be happening right? There was no way he’d walked into this situation for a third time.

Chris debates on whether he should just turn back around, go downstairs, out the front door, and bash his head against a tree, or if he should soldier on and just walk past to get to his room.

The sounds were getting to him. His cock strained against his grey sweatpants, creating a very obvious tent. His clothes suddenly felt a size too small, the air around him too thick, and he felt sweat break out on his forehead. He should leave, run far, far away from his house probably, but a sick part of him wants more than anything to see what’s got you moaning this time.

He rounds the corner and is met with a sight that almost has him falling to his knees.

It’s unfair, how incredibly gorgeous you look straddling Matt’s thighs, bouncing on his dick rhythmically, your head thrown back. You’re leaning back on your hands, supported on Matt’s knees, and Chris watches the way your body undulates as you swivel your hips, ribs flaring as your chest heaves. Every gasp you let out is a punch to Chris’ gut, leaving him feeling winded.

You’re so lost in the throes of pleasure that you don't hear when Chris groans out loud, but he knows exactly when Matt hears him, because his head rolls lazily towards him, his hands that had been grabbing your hips tightening, and there’s little to no warning before Matt’s flipping you over and thrusting into you with vigor.

“Does that feel good baby?” Chris hears Matt ask, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how good my dick makes you feel.”

“Fuck, so good, Matt- please, please, please-” your moans turning into whimpers as Matt’s thrust pick up in pace. Chris can tell exactly when Matt hits the bundle of nerves inside you that has you seeing stars because your back arches off his bed, hands scrambling to find purchase. Your fingers clench into the pillow above your head, as you beg Matt to go harder, faster.

Chris’ eyes bounce back to Matt, who’s watching you in awe, and he’s seen that look on his face numerous times before, like Matt can't get enough of you. Chris’ breath hitches, because he wishes it was him, in Matt’s place. Him, worshiping you, making you feel good. He wishes he was the one that was ripping those sounds out of you.

He catches Matt’s eyes just then, and Chris has never wanted to punch him in the face more than he does in that moment, because it almost feels like he’s mocking Chris.

See what I have, what you so desperately want…

Chris holds up a middle finger, directed at Matt and whatever god was up there who’d clearly forsaken him. He had half the mind to just yell but the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you. So with a scathing look at Matt, and a mouthed fuck you, he walks to his room, the sound of Matt’s laughter the last thing he hears before Chris angrily slams the door and sheds his clothes, pumping his cock to the memory of your voice.

It’s the hardest he’s cum all week.

Chris walks in on Matt pounding you against the wall leading to the garage. At this point, it had to be on purpose. The two of you had to be planning this, because how was it always Chris that ended up walking in on them, and not Nick? Knowing his brother, Nick would’ve gone around voicing his disgust at having caught you and Matt fucking, any chance he got.

So, it had to be on purpose.

Matt’s whispering dirty things in your ear, loud enough for Chris to hear every word.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby-”

“I want to ruin you, want you to feel me for days-”

“You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” and that has you letting out a particularly loud whine. The next bit Matt whispers into your ear is too inaudible for Chris to comprehend but he can tell how much it affects you, because you absolutely lose it just then.

Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“Can y’all stick to fucking in Matt’s bed?”

At the sound of Chris’ voice, you look up at him, startled, and it’s electrifying, your stare. Chris sees your eyebrows furrow, your lips, plump from being bitten (by yourself, or Matt, who cares at this point), fall open. Matt’s shoulders stiffen for a second, so Chris knows he’s aware that Chris is right behind them, but the asshole just keeps fucking going. And you, you’re still staring.

“Chris-” you gasp, your nails digging into Matt’s shoulder. Chris thinks you’re going to push him away, scramble to pull yourself together.

You surprise him by pushing back down onto Matt’s cock with even more fervor, your hands moving up Matt’s neck to grab onto his hair, pulling hard.

Chris watches you cum on Matt’s cock for the first time that night, all while your eyes were locked on his.

Chris doesn't like being angry. He very rarely is. And usually, he gets over it really quick.

Which is why it’s shocking to everyone when he gets cold and hostile towards Matt seemingly out of nowhere, and the anger doesn't subside.

It gets in the way of their work. Filming becomes exhausting, and it leaves all three brothers feeling frustrated and annoyed at each other.

It’s in the middle of filming a new car video when it all goes to head. Nick and Matt had attempted to film a video, but Chris couldn’t hold back the jabs at Matt, interrupting him every time he spoke, insulting him for no reason whatsoever, which only made Matt retaliate just as hard.

“That’s it-” Nick yells, his hands pushing his hair out of his face in frustration. “I’ve fucking had it with you two. I’m getting the fuck out of this car and the two of you are going to stay in here and talk. Don’t even bother coming back in until you sort out whatever-” he gestures wildly between Matt and Chris, “-is going on with you two!”

And with that, Nick storms back into their house.

Chris stares out of the window with his arms crossed, seething. He can tell Matt is looking at him, can see part of his reflection on the window, but Chris isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of breaking first.

Matt, much to Chris’ annoyance, was completely calm and collected.

“Chris-” Matt begins to say, but Chris just chucks his empty Pepsi can at him without looking. He hears it clatter against something (the steering wheel, he thinks), before dropping down onto the car floor with a dull thud.

Matt sighs, and Chris wants to yell, because Chris is the one that should be huffing and sighing, he’s the one that’s tired of all this bullshit.

“Are you trying to prove something?” Chris asks, because he never could stay quiet for too long. “Is that it? What the actual fuck Matt?”

Chris had fully turned to face Matt, who at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed now. His face was tinged pinked, and he was fiddling with his rings.

Chris continues. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but if you’re just trying to get me to see she’s your girl, I fucking get it, okay? You’ve made that really fucking clear. Did I say or do something to warrant this shit, because if you think I’m out to get her, I’m not, okay? Jesus- do you know how fucking insane-”

“She wants you bro.”

Chris blinks. He opens his mouth, and then shuts it.

“I used to catch her staring at you sometimes, and there were times she’d just keep scrolling through pictures of the two of us together- you and me, I mean- and…I don’t know, she’d have this look on her face.” Matt trails off. He looks at Chris, trying to gauge his reaction so far, but truth be told, Chris was still trying to process what Matt had initially said.

“What…?”

“Look, the two of us are happy together. I love her, she loves me, but I think she…” Matt coughs out, and it’s the first time since this whole thing has started that Chris has seen Matt this awkward. “She’s into you too. She never really told me, but it got pretty obvious after a while. And eventually, I- I started bringing you up, when we- um, yeah. She wants us both.”

Chris starts laughing. Because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Alright, good prank dude- I’m still so fucking mad at you but-”

“I’m not kidding, Chris.”

Right. Because why would Matt joke about something like this?

“Um…”

“Yeah…”

And that’s how Chris finds himself back in Matt’s room. You and Matt were sitting on his bed, albeit a little far apart, meanwhile Chris had taken a seat in Matt’s gaming chair. Chris almost wants to call the two of you out on the pure torture you’d put him through the past few weeks, but one look at your face has him abandoning that train of thought.

You look so…remorseful. You’re slightly curled in on yourself, like you’re bracing for some sort of attack, and Chris’ heart melts. The last thing he wants is for you to feel upset, so he tries to lighten the mood.

“So, do you just wanna see which one of us has the better dick or-?”

He smiles as you sputter, eyes wide as you finally look up at him.

“There we go,” Chris whispers. “You’re finally looking at me.”

“Chris…I’m so sorry,” you whisper, lips trembling. “God, this is so stupid, why did we decide to tell him-”

“Hey, hey-” Chris chides. “I think I’ve been kept in the dark long enough, actually. I just wish y’all hadn’t used such a weird ass fucking way to tell me.”

“Well, to be fair, she didn’t even know you’d seen us that first couple of times,”

“Oh, god-”

“-And, we kinda assumed you’d take the fucking hint or something.”

“Yeah, I thought the hint was ‘I know you wanna fuck my girl, so I’m gonna make sure you catch us fucking every chance we get so you stay the fuck away’,” Chris says with a raised brow, staring deadpan at Matt.

“Wait, what-” you start, but you’re interrupted by Matt.

“Yeah, he’s wanted to fuck you for a while too.”

And that's how Chris finds himself with a front row view of Matt fucking you, up close and personal. Matt has you on all fours, facing Chris, while he pounds into you from behind, hard and deep. Each thrust punches a high-pitched moan out of you, and Chris watches, enraptured by the way you take it.

Chris watches to his heart's content that night, no longer worried about getting caught, no longer stressed about wanting to fuck you.

Chris watches you fall apart in Matt's hands over and over, and all he can think about is when he can finally have his turn.

+ 1

They’d had to wait for the perfect moment, a night they could be sure none of them would be interrupted.

They'd been planning for this night for a few days now, and it was finally here.

Chris and Matt stand side-by-side in front of Matt’s bed, arms crossed over their chest as they watch you squirm in his bed, their combined attention making you nervous. They’re both barely dressed, Chris in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, the front of which were already tented from his hard dick, while Matt was just in his black boxers. The low lighting of the room made Matt’s rings glisten as he rubbed at the stubble that he’d slowly allowed to grow on his face.

“How are we feeling, baby?” Matt asks you, smirking at the way you visibly gulp. “You ready for us?”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, looking up at Chris through your lashes before nodding.

That’s all the cue he needs.

Chris stalks over to you, slowly, climbing over the bed and crawling over you, his hands landing on either side of your head as he holds himself above you. You lay back, your hair fanning around your head on the pillow, your eyes wide as you wait for Chris’ next move.

“Can I kiss you?” Chris asks, wetting his lips, and he doesn’t have to wait long for his answer. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling at the strands close to his nape, bringing his lips onto yours. The kiss is heady, a wild mess of tongue and teeth, because you’d both been waiting for this, dying for it, and here it was, finally happening.

“Chris-” you gasp, open mouth sliding over the hot skin of his cheek as he lowers his head to the crook of your neck, biting harsh kisses into the skin there, before tracing his tongue across your jaw.

“Fuck, fuck- you smell so good, I need you so bad ma-” Chris blabbers, his brain-to-mouth filter long gone. He vaguely registers Matt settling onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, as Chris kisses a path down your body, laving every inch of skin he can access with nips and kisses. You arch your back as Chris circles one of your nipples with his tongue, sucking on it as he flicks the other. He alternates between kissing and nipping your nipples, all the while, you have an almost painful grip on his hair, pushing your chest harder into his face.

Matt watches your face intently, seeing the way your features scrunch up in pleasure, mouth wide open as you gasp and whine. There’s a small part of him that knows he shouldn’t be so okay with his own brother having his way with his girlfriend, but it’s almost like he gets a 4K view of what it might usually look like when Matt’s the one doing these things to you.

Chris continues his path downwards, fingers hooking into the sides of your panties and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulling them off of you. Your legs instinctively squeeze shut when the cold air hits your wet core, but Chris’s hands gently pry them open, staring at you in wonder.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” Chris groans, before licking a stripe up the seam where your thigh meets your crotch, so close to where you actually want his tongue.

“Please, please-” you whimper, pushing your hips up closer to his lips, feeling his hot breath fan over you pussy. You hear both him and Matt chuckle, before Chris has his mouth on you, licking the wetness gathered in your folds. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the obscene sounds of Chris’s mouth as he eats you out like a man starving.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s sucking on your clit, before pushing his tongue into you, his face pushed deep, you’re sure he can’t breath. The pleasure builds, heat pooling low in your stomach. You feel Matt’s fingers brush against your forehead, pushing the hair that was starting to stick to it from all the sweat.

“You feel good baby?” Matt asks, tone soft, but his eyes glint dangerously. “One of us wasn’t enough for you, was it? You’re such a dirty girl, wanting me and my brother.”

You whine, head pushing against his thigh closest to your head. Chris laughs, pulling his head back to chime in.

“Greedy little slut, that’s what she is,” he says, cheeks rosy and face glistening from the nose down, his chin absolutely soaking wet. “You gonna cum soon ma?”

You don’t even know what you respond with, just that Chris goes back to eating you out, this time, bringing his fingers to your entrance, sliding one finger, then two, into your sopping wet cunt as he licks random paths across your folds, occasionally circling your clit and sucking on it harshly, all while thrusting his fingers in and out of you, causing you to buck your hips up wildly. Your orgasm, only the first one of the night, is fast approaching, and your thighs clench around Chris’ head. The only warning he gets is a sudden yell of his name before you gush all over his face.

“Did you just- did she just squirt?” Chris asks, eyes wide as he takes in the mess that you’d made. His face and neck were now fully wet, and there was a perfectly round wet spot right underneath you. His fingers flutter over your now slightly puffy pussy, watching your folds quiver.

“Fuck, it’s too much- Chris, wait,” you whine, hands moving to grab Chris’ wrist. He doesn’t stop with his ministrations though, fingers pumping in and out of you, prodding at the bundle of nerves inside you that caused your vision to white out. It was fast, intense, and Chris manages to pull a second orgasm out of you before you’d even managed to catch your breath from the first one.

Chris sits up on his knees, reaching his arms behind him and pulling his tank top off, throwing it behind him. He hooks his arms around your thighs before pulling you down the bed, closer to him, allowing Matt to slot himself behind you.

“Can you turn over for me ma?” Chris asks with a gentle pat against your hip. It takes some effort, your limbs feel loose and languid, but you manage to flip onto your stomach. Hands grab your face, tipping your head up, and you see your boyfriend looking at you with a smirk, tongue peeking out to run across his teeth.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” he asks, voice like dripping honey with a hint of something razor-sharp. “This everything you imagined?”

“Yes- oh god, Matt- I need you, please-”

“You have me baby,” he coos. “You have me and Chris. That’s what you wanted, right? ‘Cause one dick was never enough to keep you satisfied.”

“Ngghh- please, please, I-” you whimper, mouthing at Matt’s dick through his boxers, startled when you feel a sudden smack against your ass, pain blossoming across your skin.

“If she’s already this cock dumb, I wonder how she’s gonna get when we actually get our dicks in her,” Chris wonders out loud with an amused huff, palming at your ass cheeks as he rubs his clothed dick against it.

You continue begging, your pussy soaking wet and clenching around nothing in anticipation for what’s to come, hips arching off the bed while your back dips low, shoulders tucked between Matt’s spread thighs as you lick him through the only piece of fabric that is keeping you from tasting him, from having his cock fill your mouth.

Chris smooths his palm down your back, making you arch your back even further, before he spreads your cheeks, seeing the way you twitch at being put on display.

“I think she’s waited long enough, hasn’t she?” Matt asks Chris, nodding his head slightly as if to tell Chris to get on with it. Chris doesn’t waste any time pushing his sweats down his thighs, freeing his cock. You turn your head back to try and peek at it from over your shoulder, but Matt has a firm hand on your head pushing you towards his crotch while he pulls his dick out of his boxers. With one hand holding the back of your head, and the other around his dick, Matt slaps it against your cheek, amused at the way you so desperately try and get him to guide his cock into your mouth instead.

Simultaneously, Chris is behind you, rubbing the tip of his dick through your folds, gathering the wetness there. Above you, you feel Matt lean towards his dresser, before rifling through the top drawer and chucking something at Chris. There’s a sound of a bottle cap clicking open, and lube being squeezed out, before you hear the squelch of it as Chris spreads it over his dick.

Later, you’ll think they must have planned this head of time, but both Matt and Chris decide to push their dicks into you at the same time, Matt feeding you his cock, pushing past your lips, applying gentle pressure to the back of your head, while Chris spreads your folds apart and drives his dick into you, the tip catching inside you for a moment, before he thrusts his hips and pushes his dick deeper into you.

“Look at that,” Chris says, smacking the palms of both his hands onto your cheeks at the same time, before kneading at them. “She takes dick really fucking well.”

“It’s like she’s made for it, isn’t she?”

Chris fucks you like he has all the time in the world, savoring the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, fascinated by the sight of his dick disappearing in you at every thrust. You stretch around him so beautifully, and you’re so fucking tight, he wonders how he managed to fit it all in you in one go.

At the other end, Matt watches you with soft affection as you suck on his cock, tears streaming down your face from the exertion on your body and minimal air supply. At every thrust of Chris’ hips, you would get pushed closer to Matt, which would push his dick deeper into your mouth, making you almost gag on it.

You have no concept of time anymore, or where your body starts and Chris’ and Matt’s end. You feel like one big mess of limbs, moving fluidly, with the common purpose of chasing your orgasm. You hear Matt’s groans getting louder above you, and you know he’s getting close. You’re not far behind yourself, but Chris still seems like he’s nowhere close to being done.

Pulling your mouth off of Matt’s cock, you circle your hand around the base of it, before stroking your hand up and down, twisting it around the head. You swipe your thumb across the slit at the top while you tongue at the underside of the head, all while looking up at Matt through hooded eyes.

“Cum on my face, Matt, please-” you beg, mouth slightly open, a line of spit connecting your tongue to his dick. Chris' thrusts are picking up, but you keep your elbows planted firmly on the bed below to keep yourself steady for Matt. There’s a tingle building low in your spine, but you focus on Matt, the way he looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His hair is a mess, and his body is flushed. The hand he has on your head grips your hair tight, and the other joins your hand in pumping his dick. It only takes a few more seconds of that before Matt lets out a loud groan of your name, spurts of thick, hot cum landing across your face, and you close your eyes as it drips down your face, some of it landing on your tongue.

Matt leans back heavily against the headboard, and before you can register anything, you’re being flipped onto your back, face still covered in Matt’s cum. Your shoulders hit Matt’s chest as Chris crowds against you on the bed, his hands now on the back of your knees, pushing your legs back against your chest, before thrusting his dick back into you.

The sudden shift has you blinking back stars, and this new angle has Chris’ dick brushing against your sweet spot on every thrust, and all you can do is sob at the immense pleasure you feel. Matt circles his arms around you, one hand playing with one of your nipples, while the other moves down your stomach and edges closer to your clit. The tingling sensation grows, and grows, your hands scrambling to find purchase on Chris’ shoulders as he thrusts particularly deep into you before you finally snap, screaming as your third orgasm is ripped from you, the force of it pushing Chris’ cock out of you as you squirt all over him, yourself, and the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably.

You’re fully gasping and sobbing now, the intensity of your orgasm wracking through your whole body. You watch through hooded, teary eyes, as Chris leans over you, furiously stroking his cock as he soaks in the view of you, hot and messy, ruined because of him, before he too eventually reaches his orgasm, cum pulsing out of him and landing high on your chest, across your nipples, one spurt even hitting your chin.

The three of you are a heaping mess of limbs after, all basking in the afterglow of a night well spent, tired, but satiated. Matt and Chris lay on either side of you, stroking whatever part of your skin they can reach, occasionally batting each other’s hands away and pulling you closer to either side, like you’re not all squished together already.

“We should do that again sometime,” you say after a long beat of silence. Matt snorts, eyes closed, but the corners of his lips are quirked up in a small smile.

“Y’all are crazy if you think I’m never fucking you again after I just got a taste,” Chris states. “Besides, I think there’s a lot of lost time I need to make up for, hm?”

After that night, Chris gets to have his turn with you, over and over. Sometimes, Matt is present, and the brothers somehow always turn things into a competition of who can make you cum the quickest, who can make you cum multiple times, who can make you absolutely incoherent by the end of the night.

Now Chris had his own reason for always being so chipper in the morning. It helps that he finally gets to fuck the hottest girl he’s seen, who just happens to also be fucking his brother.

author’s note: i put too much fucking effort into an idea that essentially started as a joke, its gonna be so funny if this flops because i literally stayed up till 4 am twice in a row to write this lmao- anyways, let me know what you think! my inbox is open and waiting for your thoughts (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @kvtie444 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @55sturn @chrisopeningabag

#junovrs writes #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

Text

A Much Needed Interview (OP81)

(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.

“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.

‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.

“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”

“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”

“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”

“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time.

“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”

“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.

“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.

“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”

“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.

“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”

“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”

“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”

“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”

“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”

“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”

“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.

“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”

“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”

The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family.

Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.

Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.

“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.

“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?”

In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.

Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #op81 fluff #op81 imagine #op81 x reader

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roseykat · 4 months

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TITLE: Play Fight

PAIRINGS: Hyunjin x Jisung x f!reader

SUMMARY: Hyunjin and Jisung remain stumped at what unfolded during a game of dirty truth or dare with you. There's no going back from it. No ignoring the obvious layout of what naturally happens next between the three of you under one roof where Jisung's needs get the better of him and Hyunjin's dream becomes a reality. A continuation of Play Bite.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, hints of voyeurism/exhibitionism, swearing, oral sex (f!receiving and giving), unprotected sex, messy sex, dirty talk, porn w/plot, making out, nipple play, hints of oral fixations, begging, orgasms, deepthroating, very vague hint of cum eating, creampie, reader says 'stop' but doesn't mean it in a way where she wants to stop having sex or isn't enjoying it (she says it out of the overwhelming sensation from needing to orgasm).

🏷️LIST - @leftkittenface @twinklix @meilix @weareapackofstrays @elizalabs3 @goblin-waifu @imnotjjini0325 @livzsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @itsthatbri @20minsat180degrees @groovygroovyhyunjin @stayconnecteed @chillichillicrabcrab23 @valibals @oiikaro @galamxy (I also added people who were interested in part 2 just in case)

MASTERLIST - Play Bite (First Part)

A/N: this is just pure, filthy smut. I’m hoping I tagged everyone! Thank you all for waiting patiently! 🩷 This has been checked over a couple of times but I’ll check over it once more in the morning for any mistakes etc! x

The blood running through Jisung's body had frozen over. Stiff with shock, his eyes are still glued to the screen of your phone - at the message his best friend just sent through to you. As a result, a million and one questions fire around Jisung's brain in such a short amount of time.

The first and most important thing was deciphering whether you and Chan were together. In his mind, there was no way. No way. Chan had recently come out of a long-term relationship and even said so himself the other week that he wasn't looking for another one any time soon. That he has zero plans to dive back into the dating scene for a long time.

Not to mention, you wouldn’t do anything as terrible as cheating. Jisung trusts that and his friends wholeheartedly.

That seemed to be his only saving grace from wanting to justify his next actions, or at least Hyunjin's, because as soon as Jisung managed to peel his eyes from the screen, he catches full sight of his two friends, lip locked.

You were still in between Hyunjin's legs, slightly twisted around in order to reach his mouth whereas he leans down just a bit to help. His hands were dangerously close to the waistband of your underwear - your underwear which had been soaked through after getting yourself off in front of them minutes ago.

Jisung still couldn't believe he witnessed that, nor what he's witnessing right now.

It was clear that the game of truth or dare had been derailed and preoccupied by a more pressing matter. As Jisung listens to the wet sounds of your mouths moving, he feels the familiar, aching throb in his pants. A reminder that he's still hard and has been for a while.

It only gets worse for him when he watches Hyunjin eventually slide down the front of your damp underwear, feeling how warm and slick you are. It doesn't take long for his fingers to lather up nicely and ease over your sensitive clit.

This is his dream unfolding.

The way you silently plead for Hyunjin to fuck you with his long fingers by opening your legs is hampered when Jisung inches closer to the pair of you. This time in between your bent legs. Hyunjin regrettably peers up and away from you for a second, the pads of his fingers still rubbing delicate barely-there circles over your clit.

"I wanna taste you," he says, leaning forward and closer, his doe eyes gazing pleadingly.

Hyunjin removes his hand from your pussy and holds his slender, glossy fingers up to his friend's mouth. Your cum is glazed over his digits, sticky thin strings that connect his middle and ring fingers, gleaming desirably for Jisung who shuffles forward eagerly to take them in his mouth, suckling and licking everything he’s being offered.

But it's not enough for him.

"So good," Jisung murmurs as if he's under the influence after Hyunjin retracts his fingers. "But I need more than that. Let me taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

You cower half of your face into Hyunjin's chest with embarrassment, trying to hide the flush of red his comment brings out in your cheeks. He uses his other hand to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear.

“Alright,” you give an affirming nod to Jisung who inflates with joy on the inside.

He leans forward once more, this time to kiss you; slowly yet heated and needy for each other. There's an equal division of lust between you and him the moment his lips connect with yours.

As he breaks away from you, his eyes lock with Hyunjin for a few lingering moments before the pair of them share yet another kiss. Neither of them cared too much about it or what it was going to mean afterwards. All they knew is that they liked it and would have no trouble doing it again.

“You’ll get your turn,” Jisung teases, licking once over Hyunjin’s plush lips. “Maybe.”

Hyunjin scowls at him, but with that in hand, Jisung finds the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your thighs, all the way down to your ankles, and off. The wet mess you left for them has Jisung salivating like some rabid dog. He lowers himself onto his elbows where his hot breath washes over your inner thighs. He hasn’t started and already has you pressing back further into Hyunjin, further into his crotch where he needs you the most.

That first point of contact makes your skin tingle. He presses chaste kisses into your skin. To truly bury his mouth into your pussy, Jisung snakes his hands around your thighs, gripping lovingly into your flesh. It helps anchor him and you more importantly. You squirm and quiver, legs trembling as he begins to kitten lick over your clit, using it to wet you up even more.

Your eyelids flutter closed, focusing on the sensation, “y-yes…feels…”

“How does it feel?” Hyunjin begs the question for you.

It feels like nothing else you’ve ever felt before. There have been a couple of times where a man will give you good head, but not like this. Jisung knows what he’s doing. He’s taking advantage of your over sensitive pussy, switching up his tongue game by sucking and flicking to keep you just above the edge. His skills have you gripping onto Hyunjin’s thighs that still cage around your body.

“Good, feels good,” you swallow, feeling and listening to the way Jisung has come to lap everything up in between your legs.

Hyunjin reckons he can make you feel better too and decides to use his hands to slide underneath your shirt. He gently supports your back with one hand while Jisung continues to eat you out. The other hand unclasps your bra, giving Hyunjin free access to grope your tits under your shirt once it’s removed. By then, you’re able to lean back into his body and continue to melt from the sensations.

Strained mewls and moans tear up your throat when Hyunjin uses his index fingers and thumbs to pinch roll your nipples. He savours the pathetic whimpers you make when he starts rolling them too. You struggle helplessly against him, pressing your chest up only for him to pinch them just a little bit harder. It’s like you wanted him to stop, but you also needed him to keep going.

“Hyun…jin, s’too much, can’t-“

He finds himself nuzzling against your face, kissing your cheek here and there as an attempt to touch you as much as he can. He lingers on the fact that you’re barely able to speak in full sentences which does something to his brain. Like he and Jisung have reduced your mind and body to a point where it only knows and seeks pleasure. There’s no room for you to be able to speak when words can’t even describe what you’re feeling.

“Can’t what baby?” He asks. “I’m sure you can take it.”

Jisung’s mouth throws your mind off of answering Hyunjin, right when he starts flicking his tongue right over the heavily stimulated bud of nerves. Your thighs firmly clamp around Jisung’s head, trembling from its effect that Hyunjin can even feel you quiver from behind.

Turns out his best friend is good with his mouth. Hyunjin couldn’t help but wonder what other use it has.

“Cumming, please I need to cum,” you beg desperately.

One of your hands makes it through Jisung’s dark hair, something to hold onto to brace yourself for that intense round of pleasure. The assault from his tongue leaves you no choice but to tug and pull on his hair until Jisung himself starts moaning into your pussy from the pain - good, inviting pain.

“Nobody’s stopping you baby. “Gonna cum for us? Again?” Hyunjin urges gently.

“Yes!” You whine pleadingly. “Mm, r-right there!”

The closer you are to the edge of your orgasm, your hips start to make subtle upward movements. Almost like you’re trying to ride his face, which Jisung welcomes, would invite actually. It’s what he wants anyway - for you to use his face until you cum all over it.

“Don’t stop…please don’t stop, fuck!” You plead hysterically.

The pressure has you feeling like you’re about to explode into bits. Your thighs continue to squeeze unapologetically around Jisung’s head, fearing for a second that you might crush him. Meanwhile, Hyunjin’s fingers and thumbs roll and tug on your nipples. The sensations easily sweep over you, compelling deep moans and small yet shaky screams from your throat as you cum loudly.

“Good girl,” Hyunjin exalts you with praise. “Sound so pretty…”

Jisung could’ve kept going had your body not wanted to completely give way. But he does slow down his pace for you to finally linger in what was one of the best orgasms you’ve had from getting head. It makes you melt into Hyunjin’s front, your muscles twitching yet relaxed at its best.

“Christ…” you swallow, breathing heavily in big pockets of air. “Jisung.”

The man finally pops his head back up, a sight for you to absorb with the way his mouth is covered in your juices. The humiliation settles under your skin when you see the mess you’ve made on his face. As if he could care any less, not with the content grin he’s wearing.

When you start descending from your high, it dawns upon you that you’ve had a total of two orgasms so far and not once have you returned the favour to Hyunjin and Jisung. Particularly Hyunjin, who hasn’t had much of your body in comparison to Jisung. He’s been sitting behind you patiently, taking all of the brunt force you made while his friend was going down on you.

Amid the orgasmic haze in your brain, you push past it as best you can to speak, “condoms.”

Jisung nods mindlessly, trying to get the image of you looking so fucked out, out of his head. However, he snaps out of his daze and springs to his feet. He flounders around, thinking that if he doesn’t hurry up and find them, you’re both going to leave.

As Jisung is preoccupied, it gives you an opportunity to sit and turn around and face Hyunjin for the first time in half an hour.

“Lay back,” you mumble to him.

“Hm?”

He tilts his head innocently that it makes you wonder if he’s just pretending or genuinely too dumbfounded with what you’re about to do. You shuffle forward, in between his legs still and kiss him gently. His parted mouth is so plump and supple that it makes you bite down on his lower lip and tug, forcing a tiny whimper out of him.

“Condoms. Okay. Hyunjin, where are your condoms?” Jisung circles back to ask, checking the coffee table, the fruit bowl, even dipping into Hyunjin’s room and tearing open the drawers to his bedside table to check.

After coming up short, he returns to the lounge to see your mouth around Hyunjin’s cock, drawing long, deep, and slow strokes. He swallows hard, watching for a few moments too long until he pulls himself out his daze.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung calls out again.

Hyunjin’s eyes roll back when you sink your entire mouth down onto his length as he grips the rug beneath him, “d-don’t have any here.”

“Shit,” he groans and strides over to the bench where he left his wallet when he first walked in.

Amongst his cards and loose change where he would also keep a few condoms for occasions like this, were unfortunately not there. Out of all the instances where he’s had spontaneous sex, this is the only time he wishes he really had them on hand.

“I haven’t got any either-” he frowns but all he gets is a strained, echoed whimper when you deepthroat Hyunjin’s length. “Fuck…”

Visibly spaced out for a moment, Jisung starts acting a bit like Bambi when he wants to start walking; struggling to put one foot in front of the other as he makes his way back over to you both. From this angle, he’s able to see Hyunjin in a different light. His wavy brown hair covering most parts of his face, knuckles now another shade of morbid white as he nearly shreds the carpet beneath him with his nails.

Jisung thought he looked good - fuckable. But he excuses that thought for the time being.

“Y/N, please…fuck, not…not gonna last if y’keep doing that,” Hyunjin barely manages to get his words out, having to fight them every single time you swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. “I-I’ll cum, fuck.”

For a moment, you pull back from his cock, replacing it with your hand instead to keep up the pleasure you initiated. His body contorts and writhes, the back of his head pressing painfully into the ground. He must be an easily over-stimulated type.

“Fuck me then,” you say to him.

He blinks hazily, like he’s just waking up from a nap, “h-huh? But you - the-“

You were not going to listen to what he’ll start babbling about so this time, you fully abandon his dick and turn around to face Jisung who had been silently watching you both from behind. The obvious, rock hard tent in his pants was alluring. If you didn’t have other motives of getting him off first, you would be in his lap, grinding your wet pussy over his bulge.

From the way he’s been acting, you know he’d let you too.

Jisung gazes into your eyes like a snake that’s being charmed. He’s wondering what your next move is when your lips inch closer to his even though it’s easy to predict a kiss.

That being said, you arch your back, giving Hyunjin a not so discrete choice to fuck you. Presenting your wet hole to him as an invitation. It was a devious move but nothing in comparison to the grand scene of things. That being you and two of your best friends touching each other in ways that friends don’t normally touch.

It isn’t ‘friend behaviour’ if you reach down into Jisung’s lap and palm his hard, neglected cock through the strains of his pants. It’s not ‘friend behaviour’ if Hyunjin moves himself closer to you so that he can delicately graze the pads of his fingers over your dripping slit. Friends don’t do this, yet, as friends, none of you could care less.

All that mattered was sex and to be touched. To be relieved of the delicious pressure that you want to keep just so that the feeling of ‘cumming’ lasts forever. But, you all know that you can’t have too much of a good thing. You can’t get greedy when Hyunjin rises to his knees, stroking his cock a couple of times in hand. Or when he starts slicking up his length in between your wet folds and slowly pushing in.

“S-Shit,” you gasp, causing your hand to stall over Jisung’s dick right as you were about to free him from his pants.

His cock starts filling you up little by little. Hyunjin presses in a few centimetres then pulls back out. He does that until your pussy swallows up his entire dick nice and snug, reaching the base of it. With the amount of prep you’ve had so far, it made the process all the more easier to take the amount of inches Hyunjin packs.

From what you can feel inside you and what you’re palming beneath your hand, it was simple to conclude that Jisung and Hyunjin were relatively similar in size. When you pull the waistbands of Jisung’s pants and underwear down, you were right in your assumption. Beads of pre cum had been leaking pitifully from his angry red tip and down his shaft, most of which were soaked up by the fabric of his clothes.

“Fuck baby,” Jisung whines, sucking in long draws of breaths when your hand wraps around him and slowly tugs. “So good…so hot.”

A small, tired smile spreads on your face, but his compliment does not distract you from the fact that Hyunjin has begun to thrust slowly, along with applying a soft grip on your hips. With that, you lower your mouth down onto the tip of Jisung’s cock. He hisses and grits his teeth, the sensitivity he feels is already overwhelming.

Even more so when you start taking him as much as you can. Thankfully Hyunjin’s thrusts help you take more of him too, bucking forward from the force he starts putting in.

“Bet that…pussy feels just as good as your mouth,” Jisung says breathlessly, carding some of your hair out of the way. He bundles as much of it as he can for you, holding it in a subtle grip on top of your head.

"It does, like warm velvet”, Hyunjin says to himself in his head as a response to his friend's comment.

A hot, wet, and lush pocket that he has the privilege of fucking and not once did he ever fathom a possibility that is so real right now. He has to quickly snap out of his own head for a minute, distracted by that creamy ring around his cock being pushed back to the base of his cock when he slides his entire length in and out of you so fluidly. Taking him all the way.

It’s like you were made for him…

For a second, Hyunjin was convinced you could hear his thoughts as you decided to deepen the arch in your back. His cock now repeatedly hitting a delicious angle that makes your thighs involuntarily shake each time his tip connects with it. The shockwaves of pleasure start to surge and pool inside you, waiting to be released.

“Fuck…yes, baby,” Hyunjin mutters to himself, making the mistake of looking down at where his cock is vanishing in and out of. “Taking us so fucking well.”

You moan around Jisung’s length at the praise, prying more strained whines and cries from him that fills Hyunjin’s ears. It has so much effect on him that he has to look up and see for himself. Jisung looks and is fucked out, like he’s already on the verge of cumming which is a given considering that you’re taking all of him like a champ. The wet sounds your mouth makes as it glides up and down Jisung’s cock sounds just as good as it feels.

Every now and then you suck on his tip when you need to come up for some air, still making sure he has some contact before you mercilessly sink back down again. Once Jisung started rutting slightly into your mouth, tightening the grip he has on your hair, and his loud, quick paced breathing from above, you knew. You knew he wanted to cum.

“Close, fuck I’m so close,” he swallows, biting down on his bottom lip as you bob your head up and down. “Gonna cum Y/N…gonna make me cum.”

Hyunjin observes attentively from behind. Watching in the moments leading up to Jisung’s orgasm, the way he keels forwards, crying out in a series of loud moans as you continue to bring him to the edge, “yes, yes, yes, fuck yes!”

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, his cum spurting out rhythmically and orgasming so hard that his body shivers over. Not once do you let up, even after his orgasm and even the fact that you have a hypothetical eye on your own which Hyunjin has been curating for you. The pressure has been built so high that it’s hard not to feel like you’re about to explode. Similar to the way you could tell Jisung was about to cum, Hyunjin could easily tell when you were.

You had gotten noisier, even with a dick in your mouth that barred you from using any words, it was obvious the way you were feeling. Your plush walls were starting to tighten themselves cosily around Hyunjin, gripping onto him so that he wouldn’t leave.

As you finally peel back from Jisung’s cock, a long line of spit connects you and his length, mixed with his warm cum. But in a matter of seconds, you’re already there too. You pull back entirely, now a panting, gorgeously ruined mess who’s getting railed the way people can only dream of.

Something possesses Jisung to lean forward and kiss you sloppily, quickly evolving into some messy, wet makeout. He can taste himself in your mouth, exchanging the salty residue that invites him to linger on your lips a little longer, unbothered about the fact that you’re about to be swept over by an intense orgasm.

Only when you start breathing heavily and quickly, Jisung decides to pull away and witness the event unfold. He watches Hyunjin fuck you to your orgasm while his mind is tormented by the way that you look. How his cum mixed with your spit starts drooling out of your mouth when you start crying out from such concentrated pleasure. It feels like Hyunjin just pulled a pin to a bomb inside the pit of your stomach.

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin groans, pulling your body back and forth onto his cock by your hips. “So fucking close.”

“S-Stop - I…cumming, fuck, I’m cumming-” your words are cut short as pleasure shoots throughout your body, fingernails digging into the carpet.

Everything inside of you feels heightened and rocked with a euphoria so immeasurable that your entire body cannot do anything but still and take what Hyunjin gives you. His steady pace doesn’t waiver. Despite the fact that he’s seconds away from busting a warm load inside you, he’s capable of not switching things up drastically so that you get a steady flow of pleasure.

As your walls quiver and spasm around his cock, Hyunjin coats them in a hot thick white. His bruising grasp on your hips is the other outlet he has to mitigate such an intense orgasm. As for you, all you can do is absorb yours. To take his entire cock so greedily when you cum hard that your vision has gone all blotchy. You’re seeing cosmics of tiny glistening stars on Jisung who does nothing but watch out of desire to see you lose your mind so easily. To see you writhe and tear up from how strong the ecstasy is.

“Yes! Fuck, Hyunjin!” You scream out, moaning loudly around his apartment that both of them are sure his neighbours will hear.

But it’s not like he cares if he ever receives a future noise complaint. It’d be an honour to know that he fucked you so good that everyone in his complex could hear you. What a dream that would be; to make you feel good all the time. A very distant dream at that.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin sighs out when your body gives one final shudder, giving you some shallow thrusts to help ease you down. “Good girl.”

Hyunjin pulls out slowly with a hiss as a giddy feeling in his gut that makes his mind twist when he sees his cum mixed with your juices, leak from your hole. So captivated by it that he only starts to realise that you need to lie down. Your body does what it feels like and collapses steadily onto the carpet beside Jisung who lies back with you. It’s not long before Hyunjin follows suit and rests by your other side too.

The three of you then laze on the floor, sticky bodies meshed together for the time being as Hyunjin comes up to spoon you from behind and Jisung from the front. Minutes tick by as you all relax peacefully. You could’ve almost fallen asleep like this until Jisung, who was ‘just closing his eyes’, flashed them open and looked dead into your soul.

“Why’d you need a condom if you let him fuck you raw?” he asks out of nowhere, suddenly expecting a long and complicated reason from you. Despite the filthy things you guys just did, his question seemed so amusingly crass.

“Because I wanted you both to fuck me…at the same time,” you murmur tiredly yet so honestly. “Needed at least one for that.”

“Oh, r-right,” he stutters, then plays it cool. “Usually I carry them with me but-“

“You ran out?” You guess, cutting him off. “Whore.”

Jisung went to open his mouth to object your claim until Hyunjin reached over and covered it with his big hand, “shut up please.”

Hyunjin’s closes his eyes again but his brain now whirs with the thought of what could’ve been. Not that it mattered now. He enjoyed himself and he’s sure that you and Jisung did too who could not think of any words that come close to describing how he feels. His head was clear of thoughts - all except one. Chan. Or at least, what’s going on between you and Chan. Not that it was any of his business.

Nonetheless, he was interested but decided to keep it to himself for now. So while your eyes closed once more, Jisung turns around and reaches for your phone to unlock it before heading to the message he sent to Chan, and the one he received from him too. He checks it over one final time to be sure that what he read earlier was correct.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

He still struggled to believe it. But, with that in mind, Jisung deletes the message and forgets that it ever happened knowing that the next time he sees the others, he’ll ask if they too know anything about what’s going on between you and Chan.

For the time being, he relishes in the afterglow of one of the best nights he’s had. To rest peacefully in the warmth and comfort of his two friends.

I strictly forbid and do not permit anyone or any user to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr to any other social media platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

A/N: 060124 - Play Right

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #han jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader

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calder · 3 months

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In every mainline Fallout game except for New Vegas, players can earn the loyalty of a dog known as “Dogmeat.” As part of the main quest of Fallout 4, Dogmeat assists in tracking down the antagonist, even if the player has never encountered him before. When you leave Kellogg’s home, Nick simply starts talking about Dogmeat as if he’s a known quantity.

Perhaps related to this quirk of the world, Dogmeat is first named in this game when the clairvoyant Mama Murphy recognizes him and addresses him by name. The game’s UI calls him “DOG” until he is recognized by Valentine or Murphy. It seems clear that this german shepherd is somehow an independent agent with a good reputation, or something.

Dogmeat does not have a loyalty quest associated with him, which is how the player would earn the other companions’ perks. However, upon finding Astoundingly Awesome Tales #9 within the Institute, Dogmeat becomes more resistant to damage. While this isn’t coherent or conclusive evidence of Dogmeat being a synth, it’s plainly prompting the audience to consider that idea. In light of these factors, his origins have been fiercely debated among the community.

The skeptics and “hard sci-fi” fans out there would have you believe that he’s merely a famous stray dog who solves crimes. But I believe there's something more remarkable at work.

There's a section in the Fallout 2 instruction book called the Vault Dweller's Memoirs, where the player character of the first game recounts what canonically happened. Due to Fallout’s famously terrible companion AI, if you travelled to Mariposa with Dogmeat, he would consistently run into the force fields and get vaporized. So, in the Memoirs, we learn that this is exactly what became of Dogmeat Prime, in canon. He loyally sprinted into a wall of solid light, and disappeared. What if our buddy simply awoke in a new, confusing place?

In Fallout 2, Dogmeat must be found at the Cafe of Broken Dreams, which is explicitly a liminal space. It appears randomly to travellers in the desert. The NPCs within are frozen in time, such as a young version of President Tandi, who mentions that Ian went to “the Abbey,” an area cut from the game. To gain Dogmeat’s trust, the Chosen One must equip the Vault Dweller’s V-13 jumpsuit, which Dogmeat recognizes as belonging to his dead master. You can also attack him to spawn Mad Max, who claims ownership of the dog. Max fits the description of Dogmeat's original owner given in Fallout.

There’s also the “puppies” perk in Fallout 3, which enables you to restore Dogmeat, in the event of his death. “Dogmeat’s puppy” inherits his base and ref ids. In other words, they ARE the same NPC, just renamed. So, the way this actually articulates is that whenever Dogmeat dies in combat, you can find him waiting for you back at Vault 101. In practice, it’s almost Bombadilian.

Lastly, please consider the following developer context.

In June of 2021, the dog who performed Dogmeat’s motion capture and voice for Fallout 4 passed away. A statue of her was placed outside of every Vault in the China-exclusive sequel to Fallout Shelter. She still watches over each player.

River's owner, developer Joel Burgess, honored her in a brief thread about her involvement in the game, and shared much about his thought process and design goals while leading the character’s development. The Dogmeat project changed course early on, after Mr. Joel saw a new member of the art team gathering references of snarling German Shepherds. This motivated him to bring River into the studio, so the artists and developers could spend time with her.

He wanted to steer the team away from viewing Dogmeat as a weapon, and towards viewing him as a friend. Everything special about Dogmeat was inspired by River. For example, whenever you travel with Dogmeat, he’s constantly running ahead of you to scout for danger, then turning to wait for you. This was inspired by River’s consistent behavior on long walks. The only way they were able to motivate River to bark for recordings was by separating her from Joel while he waited in the next room. Reading the thread, it’s very clear that he hoped Dogmeat would make players feel safe, encouraging them to explore, and to wonder. In his closing thoughts, he said the following:

-Joel Burgess

Mr. Joel felt it was important to express that the ambiguity of Dogmeat’s origin in Fallout 4 was deliberately built into his presentation. He also felt it was important that you know Dogmeat loves you. Dogmeat was designed, on every level, to reflect the audience’s inspirations, and to empower their curiosity.

The true lore of Dogmeat is a rorschach test. The only “right” answer is to pursue whatever captures your imagination.

#dogmeat #v13 #meta #companions #animal death t

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insertdisc5 · 3 months

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✨ The In Stars and Time Spoiler Q&A ✨

it's time. MASSIVE IN STARS AND TIME SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. IT'S GONNA BE SO LONG. LET'S GO

I hope you are aware of The Secret Final Boss because I'm also gonna spoil the crab out of that. If you haven't,

1. Did you know the events for interacting with your souvenirs are randomized for some of them, and also change depending on how far you are in the game.

2. Did you know there's a way to show souvenirs to a certain character.

3. Did you know you can go back to Dormont during the Epilogue.

Figure that out, and come back here! Or watch a let's play online. You can also do that.

I will also try to adopt a ~mysterious cool voice with no exclamation points~ for Effect. Come with me on this journey.

Now. Questions time!

✨ Will you ever make a sequel to ISAT, or make a game in the same universe?

Nah. This was always intended to be The Story. This is your turn to imagine things now.

✨ But so what happened to the Country? What was its name? What about the wishes? What about the colors? What did Siffrin say as an openphrase to open the door to the King's room? What about--

I will not answer those. It's your turn.

✨ BUT THE COUNTRY AND THE COLORS AND THE WISHES

Ok fine. Here are some facts that I alluded to in-game, that I am confirming now.

-The Country disappearing and the events that made colors go away are not related.

-The colors disappeared a loooong time ago, which is why knowing they even existed is a relatively new find.

-A wish made everyone forget the Country.

I will ALSO say that ISAT's map operates on Final Fantasy/General Fantasy rules (i.e. in-universe locations are based off of real ones when it comes to culture, but are not one to one parallels, especially for geography), so no, the Country isn't based on the UK oh my god please do not say that to me again or im deleting ISAT out of your computers and putting legos at the foot of your bed. It's based on another place. You can figure it out, I believe in you.

✨ But why won't you give more info on what happened :(

Can you imagine if I did answer. Wouldn't that be a bummer, whatever my answer was. Sometimes things need to stay a mystery. And also, I don't want to answer <3

✨ Does the world Loop came from still exist after they left? Or is this a get mystery'd situation?

There is only One Timeline and it's the timeline that goes from the prologue to ISAT. Every timeline that gets rewound does not exist anymore, and that includes the prologue's timeline.

✨ What's the deal with Siffrin's dream at the start?

It's Siffrin's dream, but that doesn't mean our Siffrin is the main star.

✨ Is [specific missable game moment] canon?

Every moment that you personally experience in the game is canon.

✨ Is there a reason Siffrin remembers their name but the King doesn't?

What makes you think Siffrin does?

✨ At the very very end of the game, if you look out the window behind the Head Housemaiden, Sif mentions seeing an island in the distance. Is that his country?

It is. It's always been there, for the whole game. You can see it in the distance, too.

✨ Who was the King, before?

He was just a guy!

✨ With the King left remembering in the end, does that in any way change the redaction effect for other people in the world going forward?

That's a fun idea. Maybe!

✨ One thing that never really clicked for me is: Is the sweet smell Time Craft or Wish Craft? Or is the sweet smell TIme Craft and specifically the burnt sugar smell is Wish Craft? Other way around? Does this question even matter since without Wish Craft you can't attain Time Craft in the first place? (To me, yes.)

Wish Craft smells sweet. Time Craft doesn't have a smell per se, but it does do something.

✨ Does Mirabelle retain her immunity to being frozen in time after the events of the game or does it go away after the Head Housemaiden is saved? Or does it persist for a while and eventually fade away?

I imagine the immunity slowly faded away. But no one's left to do Time Craft, so it's a moot point anyway.

✨ How was Odile able to stop Siffrin from looping back during the fight against Siffrin?

In the Discord channel I stated that it's because "she's just that cool", but really, she does have access to some skills that heighten the efficacity of Rock/Paper/Scissors attacks, so it's not too much of a stretch to imagine she could lower the efficacity of Time Craft as well. In this last loop, while listening to Loop and observing, she could figure out Siffrin was looping way earlier than she could in even the Sus Quest, so she made plans. She is Very Smart <3

✨ Will you ever share everyone's full names?

That's artbook content <3

✨ In the ending, what happened to Siffrin's hat?

Flew away. It's gone now.

✨ Looking back at the original comics, and seeing how comic!sif has both eyes at the start of their loops, but in ending sequences is shown with his eye patch...did you ever consider making that concept of sif losing their eye a part of the main loop in either of your games? and if so, was there any reason why you decided against it?

Early on, I did think about making that whole event an event that happens during the loops, but quickly let that go since 1. it would be a pain to write and code (two different sets of Siffrin portraits!) and 2. if it happened, the player might want to look for a way to NOT make that happen and so 3. it would be a pain to write and code

✨ How was Siffrin's homelife before?

Pretty good!

✨ How old were Nille and Bonnie when they ran away? How old was Sif when their home got zapped?

Both were teens.

✨ How old IS everyone?

Siffrin is mid-late 20s. Mirabelle and Isabeau are early-mid 20s, with Isabeau being slightly older. Bonnie is a preteen. Odile is Too Old For This. Petronille, Bonnie's sister, is late teens-early 20s. You can ignore whatever I said in the prologue's artbook, whoever wrote this was Wrong!!!!!!!!!!

✨ Regarding the book that talks about someone who crafted a copy of themself using wish craft: is that meant to imply someone we know is the author (and/or the copy), or is it not directly related to any of em? or is it a "who knows ;)" situation where we can just speculate and theorize either way?

Please check the book again during Act 5! This applies to most items/map events by the way, like the pendant. You can check those during Act 5 and 6 for some fun new dialogue!

✨ Why are Siffrin's clothes so warm looking?

The Country got cold at night.

✨ What's up with Siffrin's pins?

They're made out of a special material. And also, they make Siffrin look cool <3

✨ I want to know the story behind Loop’s different eye shades!

They're blind in one eye. Also, fun foreshadowing <3

✨ What determines whether someone is paper/rock/scissors craft? Is it assigned naturally at birth or something else (and how do you find out)? Does it make you more inclined to use that specific craft or is anyone generally free to use whatever craft they want?

Astrology rules, It Just Is A Thing. Being Rock Type means it is way easier for you to do Rock Craft, but that doesn't mean you can't learn other types of craft, although it's way harder. Doing Craft of your type is instinct, doing Craft of another type would take some time and resarch.

✨What crimes has Odile committed before. I need to know.

Odile just smiles.

✨ Why did the King specifically target the House of Dormont?

I had a reason in mind, but adding it to the game would've added a layer of Explanation that really didn't need to be there. It's just a nice House.

✨ Who was Odile's hatecrush...

Dunno. It's your turn.

✨ What is loop's body situation. like is the surface of their "skin" solid? they did poke siffrin that one time, and we know they aren't cold, but...

I have some idea. But it's your turn!

✨ Would Sif still have looped if they hadn't made the wish he made in the beginning? As in, would Vaugarde's combined wish have made him loop until managing to beat the King?

No. But without time powers, you can imagine what would've happened next.

✨ During the Loop Hangout, how did the rest of the team make it all the way to The King? What about during Act 5?

During the Loop Hangout: with difficulty. During Act 5: Loop was there to guide them.

✨ Is Loop: 1. Actually comfortable with both he and they, but only gave the one pronoun to emphasize the distance? 2. Only using they/them because a large life event led to a shift in identity/ how they'd like to be perceived? or 3. time lops stole he from they they :(

Mostly that first one. But all three of those reasons have a bit of truth to them.

✨ Who cooked crab in the House of Change???

This is a very funny question! I've never thought about it. It's your turn.

✨ What are the Orbs that open the gate? Did the King create the Gate or was it there before?

(did not think about the orbs or the gate beyond "plot that proves there was a journey before") Stop Asking Questions,,,, It's your turn,,,,,,

✨ Bonnie's dialogue is *extremely* accurate to how overexcited kids talk, which is really rare to see. Was that something that took a lot of effort to achieve, or did it come naturally to you?

Thank you <3 I'm just that good. Really, Bonnie is an adult with no filter, and less general knowledge. I'm very glad I managed to write Bonnie well, especially since. I haven't talked to a kid. Since I was one myself

✨ The Spoilery Concept Art. Blease

oh yeah. here have it all. this is what I gave Mimi to do the animated trailer!

✨ So. What's everyone's favorite shade.

FINALLY the question. Plus I can say shade names now. White = darkless, Black = lightless. Light and Dark is like light grey/ dark grey. Oh my god I'm checking my notes and I wrote a small event I never used about hair dye colors like "midnight dark", "tomato grey", "snow light" past me that's so fucking funny

Anyway, Siffrin loves darkless, Mirabelle is more of a light shade lover, Isabeau loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS FASHIONABLE OK), Odile likes darker shades, and Bonnie also loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS AS DARK AS MY SOUL OK)

✨ Are there any bugs you found during developments that you've made into features?

Two! The first one was the ability to ask Loop to just silently hang out during Act 4. I messed up the code and the game softlocked there, with Siffrin and Loop sitting there silently. I thought it was very sweet. They deserve a little quiet time.

The second was in Act 5 - the House map had a lot of issues with the Act 5 map bringing you back to the normal House map. So one of the testers got brought to the normal House map and didn't notice, and interacted with the Mirror on Floor 3, and it gave them the normal interaction with everyone seeing the mirror and taking a picture, and when they went to look at the picture in their inventory, it gave them the actual Act 5 picture. A little bit after they realized the game bugged out, and told me about it, and begged me to keep that in because they were very unsettled by it. So here it is! Beforehand, it was just Siffrin silently taking a picture, so I'm glad I changed it.

✨ Did you ever have emotional difficulty writing the more sensitive parts of the script, like Siffrin’s intrusive/negative thoughts, for one reason or another? Moreover, did you worry the script may be darker than your initial vision for it anticipated?

Not really. The Mirabelle and Odile hangout scenes were the hardest scenes by far because I really wanted to get them right, but everything else was about the same amount of difficulty. And actually, I wanted to go a little bit darker for the script, but I was worried it was going to be too dark... When it comes to the dagger event, I had a whole tangent about Siffrin thinking about the best way to strike, so to speak, but I deleted it because it was getting A Little Too Detailed. T rating come back to me

✨ For the questions you WON'T answer, did you have your own answers while making the game? Or were they left blank?

Some of them I do, some of them I don't!

✨ I loved this game and I want to replay it but I don't want Siffrin to go through everything again!

Here's a little fun fact I decided: if you hit the credits, you helped a Siffrin escape. If you start a new game, you are creating a new Siffrin that you can emotionally tortu-IIIIIIII MEAN, a new Siffrin that you can help. Do not worry about your Siffrins they are fine

✨ A lot of those answers ended up being "It's your turn", huh.

Yea <3 The answers to some of those questions ARE there if you look. Some just aren't. But you can imagine whatever you want. It's your turn! I finished the game! I'm done working! It's your turn!!!

✨ I loved ISAT and it made me feel so many feelings!

Thank you so much. I'm sorry if you sent a message or ask and I didn't answer it. I read every single one and cherish it! Thank you for playing and thank you for writing me a message!!!!! When I get a little down I look at all of those and I feel better. Thank you. I'm sorry I can't answer them all.

✨ What will you work on next?

I have a project I'm currently in the preproduction stages of. I don't want to talk about it until I feel like I have some stuff to show. Plus I still have to make the ISAT artbook and some other stuff, so it won't be for a while. Nonetheless, I hope you will enjoy it!!!

#in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers

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superhaught · 1 month

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Just Seven Minutes

Pairing: Leighton Murray x Reader

Warnings: explicit smut (18+ MDNI)

Word Count: 3300, Part 1/?

Part 2

Reader and Leighton are paired up for a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven at a Theta party.

Explicit Content Below! Read at your discretion.

You made the mistake of watching from within the crowd. You should have known better. A frat party, a lockable storage closet, and liquor did not mix well.

Your stomach dropped when the shirtless fraternity brother pointed directly at you, “You. Come on.”

“No, no… I’m just watching…” you protested.

“Them's the rules, pal. If you watch, you are liable to participate.” Suddenly, people were pressing on your back and pushing you forward until you stumbled into the center of the circle with him. He looked at you, “alright, what are you into?”

“What?”

“Boys? Girls? Both? Anyone? Come on, what are you into?”

“Oh…” you could feel yourself shaking, your palms getting clammy, “girls…” you answered.

The guy caught a glimpse of a blonde head trying to escape the crowd of onlookers. He pounced on the opportunity, “Ah, not so fast, Murray. I pick you.”

Your stomach dropped further. Murray? Murray?

You were frozen. There was a slight scuffle amongst the people surrounding the blonde. You think you heard someone tell her, “it’ll be fine.” Then she was pushed into the center just as you were.

Leighton Murray. Rich. Brilliant. Popular. Stunning. Recently out as a lesbian among the student body. Recently out of not one, but two committed relationships. Likely only here because her roommates made her.

You knew these things about her partially by way of the Essex grapevine, and partially also because you had been nursing a painful crush on her since Freshman fall.

She didn’t make eye contact with you, so you resorted to looking at the floor and praying for a sudden meteor strike in Vermont.

The frat bro began, “Alright, you know the deal. Seven minutes in the closet, no less. What you do in there is your business. The timer will go off at seven minutes but no one will make you come out until one of you knocks. And the necessary disclaimer, we can hear everything and that’s what makes it fun for us. Now, you both have the option to agree or to chug the cup.” He gestured in reference to a full red solo cup sat upon a table in front of you. It was filled with mystery liquid, a combination of the participants' drinks. You can’t imagine that anyone in their right mind would choose to chug.

The brother turned to you, “okay, closet or chug? What’ll it be?”

You took a deep breath, “closet.”

“Hell yeah!” He grabbed your wrist and held your arm up in the air like a champion wrestler and the crowd joined in on cheering. Then, he faced Leighton, “and you? Closet or chug?”

Leighton rolled her eyes, “closet.”

The cheers became nearly deafening as the man lifted Leighton’s hand into the air as well and then you were both quickly ushered into the closet, the door locked behind you.

It was a ridiculously stupid game. You shouldn’t have even been entertaining it by standing in the crowd. You shouldn’t have even come to this party. The only people who enjoyed this were the ones tipsy enough to find it funny, or horny enough to use it as an opportunity. If the crowd outside didn’t hear anything worthwhile happening, they’d shout through the door to stress you out and be disappointed if you left the closet without having done anything. If they did hear a show, though… they’d cheer for you upon your exit and everyone would be talking about it for weeks.

You stepped toward the back wall of the closet and slumped against it, sighing, but not wanting to be the first to speak.

Leighton kept a respectful distance from you and just glanced around the dingy closet with a look of disgust on her face. She wasn’t looking at you with disgust. Well, she wasn’t looking at you at all. But then you realized that you were looking at her and you quickly averted your gaze.

Time seemed to move at a snail's pace. Neither Leighton or you wanted to say or do anything, apparently. You quickly resigned yourself to the fact that you would spend the next seven minutes locked in a closet with a woman who you were deeply attracted to without a word shared between you.

To your shock, she broke the silence, “you’re in my calc class, right?”

You looked up at her and almost choked when you tried to respond. You cleared your throat and tried to play it off, “Yeah, I am.”

She nodded, “thought so. I’ve noticed you before.” You hoped that she couldn’t hear your heart pounding.

“I… I’ve noticed you, too.”

She smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder playfully, “hard not to. I’m amazing.”

That. That is what gets you everytime. She was amazing and she knew it and that was so fucking hot to you. You had to bite your lip to silence yourself.

She continued, “for the record, I think this whole situation is bullshit.”

“Uh, me too.” You agreed.

The blonde lazily examined her manicured nails as she spoke, “with that being said, I would rather make the most of it than not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… we could ya know, see what happens…”

Your jaw dropped, “wait… are you saying that we should… what? Make out?”

“Well, do you want to?”

Your head was spinning. Of course you wanted to. But now she was standing right there and you couldn’t make yourself speak.

She shook her head, “nevermind… forget it.” She moved to take a step away from you and all you could think to do was to reach out for her. You gently grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

“Wait,” you began, “I didn’t say ‘no’...”

She turned and looked at you, actually meeting your eyes for the first time. She was anxious, too. You could see it now. You dropped her wrist.

“Leighton…” her name tasted so sweet on your tongue, “I… I won’t kiss you… unless I know that you really want it…”

You watched as her eyes flitted down to your lips then back, “I want it… I want you… does that answer your question?”

This had to be a dream. You were certain of it. But then, it was only just a dream and nothing bad could happen from kissing Leighton Murray in your dreams.

“It does…” you respond.

Leighton stepped a little closer to you. Your shoulder blades pressed against the wall behind you. She leaned in, her lips suddenly only a couple inches from yours. She locked her gorgeous blue eyes on yours, waiting. She wanted you to go for it.

You whisper shakily, “you’re sure?”

The corner of her mouth raised into a cheeky smile and she nodded emphatically.

Between your blood pounding in your ears from the anticipation, people outside of the closet cheering lewdly, and the tickle of her warm breath on your chin, you couldn’t think anymore.

You snake a hand to the back of her neck and twine your fingers into her soft, blonde hair as you make the move to pull her in the rest of the way and close the distance. You hear her breath hitch as your lips connect, and the two of you quickly find a comfortable position for your bodies to be in. You bring your other hand to the small of her back, holding her over her blouse. She leans her weight onto you as she drapes her arms around your shoulders and buries her fingers into your hair.

You exchange a few tender kisses as you shift to cradle the side of her face in your hand and kiss her softly. Feather light brushes of your sensitive skin against one another as you pull her just a little closer by her waist. But the softness isn’t enough and soon, all you can feel is heat and you begin to deepen the kiss. Your lips part and you lightly graze your tongue against her bottom lip. She shudders and allows you entry, meeting your tongue with hers in a short-lived fight for power that she quickly cedes.

You let out a moan from your throat that she only echoes. She presses herself against you more forcefully and kisses you harder and you match her at every step. Everything felt like it was on fire. You couldn’t help it, you had to pull back for a second to catch your breath. Your chest heaved and you opened your eyes to find hers.

“Fuck…” she whispered.

You caress your thumb over her cheek and stare incredulously at her, “do you… want to keep going?”

She chuckled lightly, a genuine smile forming on her face, “I do… Do you?”

You nod, “yes… God, you’re so hot.”

She smirked and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, coming at you with passion that made you melt. She let her hands roam your body now and you could feel her happily learning the feel of your skin and muscles beneath your clothes.

You want her without any shame now. Nothing mattered other than the gorgeous blonde and her pleasure. You grab ahold of her hips and back her up toward a low shelf in the closet. A simple swipe of your arm knocks everything off the shelf and then you lift her onto it and step in between her legs.

She gasps in surprise but responds quickly by wrapping her legs around your hips and you keep kissing her desperately. Leighton moans and pulls you even closer to her by grabbing your ass. Her hips start to rock, seeking any amount of friction she can get by grinding against you.

You groan and match the movement of her hips. You come away from her lips and start kissing along her jawline and down the side of her neck. Your thumb tilts her head by moving her chin and you apply pressure with your tongue to the sensitive spots that make her squirm, then nip at the tender skin with your teeth.

She holds you by the hair at the nape of your neck and sighs as she tilts her head back and away, giving you even more access to her. Her back arches and your arm moves to support her back and you slide your hand under her shirt and touch her skin. You faintly hear the seven minute timer outside of the closet go off but you’ve no intention of stopping now.

You glance at her blissed out face and breathe, “you’re so fucking gorgeous,” as you kiss around her throat and give your attention to the other side of her neck, pulling her hair lightly to move her head in tandem with you.

Her continued sounds in reaction to you are heavenly. Her little gasps and whimpers drown out the sound outside of the little closet and she becomes your whole world. She squeezes your back and digs her nails into you, desperate for more of you. She tries to say so with words, “I need… I… need…”

“I can keep going…” your press another kiss onto her neck and then her collarbone.

“Please…” she gasps.

You bring your lips closer to her ear and whisper your desire, “I want to go down on you, Leighton…”

You feel her body react to your words as a wave of arousal washes over her.

“Oh… god,” Leighton moans, “holy shit…”

“Do you want that?” You kiss along the edges of her ear, touching your lips to the hidden spots along her hairline.

“Yes… yes… please…”

“Yes? You’re sure?”

“Yes!” she bucks her hips against you out of desperation and whimpers, “please…”

You smile and return to her lips, kissing her hungrily as you slide your hands around to her waist and push her shirt up, exploring her skin. Your touch sends shivers through her body and raises goosebumps. She kisses you back with fervor but then lets out a quiet whine when you pull away to begin traveling elsewhere. Her disappointment is quickly eased as you start kissing down the front of her body and lower yourself to your knees between her legs.

You lift up her shirt as you descend and start pressing kisses directly onto the skin of her abdomen. She giggles lightly from the faint tickle of your movements and you smirk as you teasingly continue for a second longer.

She looks down at you with flushed cheeks. Her chest rises and falls rapidly and you take a moment to really admire her in this state. She licks her pink, swollen lips and runs a hand through her hair to push it back out of her face. Her legs shake just ever so slightly. She’s incredible.

You breathe her name again, savoring it, “Leighton…”

You reach out and tuck some of her hair behind her ear and then trail those fingers down the center of her body till they reach the button of her jeans.

You look up at her wordlessly and she nods her head. You undo the button and the zipper and start to ease her jeans down her legs as she lifts her butt off the shelf for a second to help you. Your eyes follow the denim as it slides down her thighs but then you see the lacey, pink panties she’s wearing and your heart skips a beat. You moan at the sight and she smiles. She grabs a hold of your hair again and makes you look back at her face, “like what you see?”

You bite your lower lip and nod, wide eyes staring at her.

“Finish taking them off…”

You grab the waistband of her underwear and pull them down, too, until her legs are free of the clothing and you drop the fabric onto the ground beside you.

You adjust your position so that you’re perched on your knees right between her legs and you start to plant gentle kisses on her inner thighs.

She keeps her fingers in your hair but leans her head back as you kiss her and sighs happily.

You grab ahold of her thighs and pull her a little bit more forward, til she’s perched on the edge of the shelf, and then you finally press your face in between her legs and give her your mouth.

She moans and immediately starts to rock against you, matching your movements. You open your eyes and look up at her with a sly grin on your face as you drag your tongue through her slick and then start to focus on her clit.

“Oh…” she breathes, “fuck… that’s so good…” she meets your eyes and lets out a desperate groan.

You keep going and can tell how pent up the blonde is. She holds onto your hair with one hand and white knuckles the edge of the shelf with the other, her ankles crossed behind your back.

This act of having needy, fiery, semi-public sex is so vulgar and so hot. You can’t fathom how this is even real. How are you going down on Leighton Murray in a frat house closet right now?

You felt like you could get off without her even touching you. Her taste, her breathy moans, her grinding motions against your mouth were more than enough.

She throws her head back, “fuck fuck… I need more… fingers….please…”

You nod your head slightly and shift your hand at her request, slowly sliding your middle finger inside while licking her clit rhythmically.

She takes your finger with a moan and then you effortlessly slide your ring finger in, too. You curl them and press the pads of your fingers against that ultra-sensitive spot and she starts to clench around you.

You time the movements of your fingers and tongue expertly and you can feel her climb to her peak quickly, “fuuck… ohmygod I’m so fucking close don’t stop don’t sop!”

She holds onto your head for dear life and you maintain your pace and then she finally releases, coming onto your fingers hard. Her entire body tenses, muscles shaking from holding herself in a precarious position. She moans loudly, head falling back against the wall behind her. You don’t quite reach an orgasm of your own but you feel pure bliss at giving her that strong of a reaction.

Her eyes shut and her face softens to a weak smile as you clean her up with your tongue and suck your fingers clean while you stand back up.

You step in between her legs again and reach out to embrace her. She accepts the contact, wrapping her arms around your chest and leaning her head on your shoulder. The affection you feel for her is easy to come by and you can’t help but send up a silent prayer that this won’t be a one time thing.

Your hand holds the back of her head as she leans on you and you caress your thumb over her soft hair. She lets out a happy hum and squeezes you a little.

“Wow…” she breathes.

“Mhmm…” you agree, “you’re incredible.”

“Me?’ She laughs, “I didn’t do anything!”

“You don’t have to.” You don’t hesitate to press a tender kiss to the top of her head and rub soft circles onto her back.

“You’re sweet…” she smiles, looking up to meet your eyes, “and freakishly good at that…”

You laugh and shake your head, feeling your cheeks flush.

“You must have a lot of practice.”

“Then you’ll be shocked to find out that I really don’t…”

She raises an eyebrow in doubt, “no way. I don’t believe you.”

You shrug your shoulders, “believe it or not, it’s the truth.”

She shakes her head, incredulous, and tucks her head back against your shoulder. You hear her take a deep breath in through her nose and nuzzle into you a bit. It makes you smile and feel butterflies in your stomach. You wordlessly return the gesture by taking a deep breath against her hair, closing your eyes and letting her undoubtedly expensive conditioner flood your senses. She smells like good espresso and silk.

“We uh… should probably get out of here, huh?” you ask.

She groans, “god… don’t remind me that I have to face everyone out there.”

“At least, it will be a disgustingly positive reaction…” you grimace at the thought, “if it helps, I will definitely stick with you for as long as you want me to.”

She nods, “I’d like that, thanks.”

You bend down slightly and grab her discarded clothes and pass them to her. Leighton smiles gratefully and shakily gets down from the weirdly convenient shelf and holds onto your bicep for balance as she gets back into her underwear and jeans.

When standing normally, she’s back to being a few inches taller than you. She looks down to meet your eyes as she buttons her pants and tucks her shirt back in. You’re gently holding her waist and getting totally lost in her brilliant blue eyes.

She flips her hair over her shoulder and rests her hands on your shoulders as she leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your lips connect and the tenderness of it surprises you in a good way. You cradle her jaw in your hand again and rub your thumb along her cheek, kissing her a few more times.

She pulls away and smiles, “you’ve made my night.”

“I’m glad,” you reply, “you made mine, too.”

You take another few moments to gather yourselves and then you brace yourself for the reaction from the crowd as you knock on the closet door to be let out.

Next Chapter

#leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #slocg #leighton murray fanfiction #leighton murray smut #smut #smut with plot #18+ content #18+ mdni #mdni #my fanfiction #my writing #original writing

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1427 · 2 months

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something to prove pt 2

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV.

Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), hand stuff, squirting.

Word Count: 2k

A/n: sorry this isn’t as spicy as the first one but. Idk. I also feel like y’all are gonna kill me if I don’t make a part that has Daryl actually get some. But. Idk.

17+ mdni

\\part 1\\

masterlist

You touch yourself in front of Daryl almost every time he comes over and your mom leaves the house. Finding him in the same spot, the remote on his knee, waiting for you. Head turned to the side as he chews at his thumb, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. His other knee anxiously bouncing. Sometimes he’s smoking, other times he’s not.

You notice all of these things because you notice everything in those moments right before you play with yourself for him. Every time you’re alone in your room you’d wish you had the courage to actually talk to him. Maybe touch him? Anything. Everything about him made you burn. And yet you kept an aching distance. Three feet away, and on the floor. Never any closer.

Eventually Daryl and Merle lose whatever living arrangements they’d had and your mom invites them to crash in the living room.

This doesn’t change anything between you and Daryl. There’s more lingering stares exchanged but you still don’t really speak. Especially in front of your mom and Merle. They never seem to notice the tension that’s wrapped itself around the two of you, hanging in the air. This very dirty secret you and Daryl indulged in every time they leave.

Luckily you didn’t share the space with them often. Only ever escaping your room to eat, leave the house, or put on a show for Daryl when they’d inevitably travel to the city every few days.

You’ve been gearing yourself up to do something more, but what? It takes you a week to decide and then another week to actually work up the nerve to do it.

You wait for Daryl to fall asleep. For some reason you know if he watches you come down the stairs, observes you walking up to him, you’d end up wimping out. So you wait for him to be asleep, 3am should do it, and then you wait a little longer.

With every step down the stairs your heart beats harder. You feel out of your body, just barely there as your feet make small but deliberate steps toward Daryl, asleep sitting up in the arm chair. Until suddenly you’re back in your body, standing over him.

You use your leg to jostle against his, causing him to stir. Waiting until his sleepy eyes open and meet yours. Too late to back out now, basically on top of him. But you’re frozen in place, you can’t make your mouth say the words that you’d practiced a hundred times. The words screaming in your head.

You’re both just staring at each other. Daryl’s obviously waiting for you to speak, or do something. But he doesn’t mind just staring at you. He doesn’t mind the waiting. After all, his favorite times are when you’re in front of him - and you’re in front of him now.

He doesn’t usually get to see this side of you. The front. Your face. The light of the TV is all blues and pinks and something inside Daryl swells. A warm gush of longing from his chest into his throat. Prickling at his skin. Not just longing to touch you, but something more. Something else. He doesn’t even want to speak, he’s enjoying just watching the colors dance across your cheeks and nose and the almost tangible warmth of the moment.

You’re out of your body again, but you hear yourself say it, “Will you touch me this time?”

Daryl’s been waiting for this. He’s thought about it so many times, in so many different ways. Wondering, seemingly ever free second of the day, when you were going to take it further. And how. He’s grateful that this is what you’d asked for, instead of maybe asking him to fuck you. He couldn’t do that. He could, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to. Doesn’t think he’d be able to even pull his cock out in front of you without passing away, and going to hell.

He swallows and nods while still looking up at you. His eyes move along with his fingertips, his right hand grabbing your left wrist and moving you to sit back in his lap.

You perch on him. Leaning back to place your feet on either one of his knees. Spreading your legs like this felt more lewd than you’d imagined it would, but because he’s behind you you’re not embarrassed by it, and you’re not shy about it. It snares something deep inside you, that even though your t-shirt is mostly covering your wet heat you're still so very out in the open.

Daryl snakes one arm around your waist and the other between your legs, but he doesn’t touch you there yet. He wants to feel all the way up your leg from the knee. To see how much and how far you’d dripped down your thighs while you were standing there staring at him.

His fingers get slick about halfway up your leg and it takes everything in him not to put them in his mouth immediately. He’s been dying to taste you since that day. The first one. You never wipe your hand on him like the first time and he wants you to so badly, every time. And every time his voice gets caught in his throat and he doesn’t.

And now your sweet tangy mess was coating his fingertips. Your muscles are tense, the feeling of his digits slowly creeping closer to your center. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, “Please. Help.. me.” You whine, edging your hips forward just a little, using your feet to leverage. But the arm he has wrapped around your waist pulls you back flush against him. That’s when you feel him for the first time. Hard and digging into your ass cheek. A low groan escapes his lips, and he holds you even tighter.

Daryl leans his forehead against the back of your shoulder, trying to pull himself together a little bit. You asked for his help, for him to touch you. But he’s so nervous, what if he does it wrong? He’s watched you so many times that even if he hadn’t known how to get a woman off before, he certainly knew how to get you off now. Still, he worries. Afraid he’s going to fuck it up.

Finally, his middle finger slides down the center of your arousal. Running over your clit, down to your hole, and back. You can feel the nervousness in his touch, the anticipation that’d been building up in him for months. You whimper, looking down your body to watch his hand as it gets acquainted with your cunt. God, is this what you looked like when he watched you? Your pussy swollen with desire, sopping wet, and visibly trembling? It was so deliciously vulgar.

His fingers slip around your folds, like yours do when you’re too wet like this. You whine, even though he’s touching you it’s not enough. Or, rather, it’s only making it worse without the pressure to accompany such touches. He gives up on trying to spread your lips to delicately and masterfully work your clit, the way he’s watched you do, and instead rubs your whole messy pussy with three of his fingers. Pressing against your mound hard. This elicits a deep groan from you, one that you can already feel building into a scream. Nothing you’ve ever experienced has felt like this.

He rubs around in the mess while you still watch from above. It doesn’t take long for your hips to start shaking uncontrollably. Whimpering and groaning you start to feel that hunger again. The insatiable one, needing something inside of you. He waits until you say, “P-please.” Your hips trying to move into his hand, but he keeps his grip on you so tight that your stuck in place. On his lap and at his mercy.

Daryl wants to make you wait, wants to ask you to say please again. Wants to hear you beg in every language so that he’d have more words to remember falling out of your mouth like this. But he can’t control himself either. He’s been imagining what your walls would feel like contracting around his fingers for so long. It’s all he fuckin’ thinks about anymore.

White hot. You feel his fingers all the way up to the knot in your throat and you choke on it. Each time he curls his two fingers, you feel it like a pang in your lungs, knocking the wind out of you. Daryl can’t stop, pressing into that spot of you, your breath hitching in your throat over and over. Your pussy clenches every time, he scissors his fingers as he pulls them out of you, to see those juicy lips stretch out around them. He needs more. Wants to fill you up until you burst. “More?” Is all he can manage to ask.

You nod feverishly, your muscles moving against every pressure, your hips practically vibrating on top of him. Daryl swallows and readies a third finger, shoving all three thick digits into your greedy cunt without any hesitation.

“Sh-shit.” You choke out, completely overwhelmed by the feeling. Daryl has to hold onto you so tightly, that one arm isn’t enough. With three fingers deep inside you, he closes his palm tight to your mound and holds onto you like that. Like the inside of you is a handle he’s latched his fingers into to lock you on top of him. And the way your ass slides back over his cock is too much. He has to do it again.

He rocks you back and forth. Pushing you down by your pelvic bone with him hooked inside you and over his clothed rage. It’s amazing. The way his palm pushes and rubs against your clit again and again, the way he’s moving your body against him. Pushing you and pulling over his hard cock by your cunt. He’s afraid maybe he’s hurting you, but your body tells him that he’s not. He’s never seen someone so let go from their inhibitions before. No one’s ever shown them this side of themselves for him. He loves it.

You think you're about to orgasm, the sight alone is enough, but it doesn’t come. It just keeps building. Deep in your stomach, all the way up your spine. Down to your toes curling into his thighs. And it keeps building. You’ve never experienced something like this, it almost scares you.

Daryl can tell that you’re close, every single muscle is strained against him. He’s using everything he’s got to keep you on his lap, his arm muscles taut and rigid around your writhing body.

Your orgasm pushes out of you in a scream, your pussy gushing. Warm squirt jetting out from your body and all over Daryl’s hand. All over the floor. Your legs shake, your feet bouncing into the air and spasming completely out of control.

He just holds you for a moment, his muscles still flexed around you. He keeps his fingers inside. Relishing in and memorizing each time your pussy pulsates around him, until it stops. Finally he loosens his grip and pulls away.

The emptiness almost makes you want to cry, especially after such an orgasm. You’d never done that before. You didn’t know you could. You don’t want Daryl to see you cry, to get the wrong idea. Plus, what? Were you guys going to talk afterward? You never had before. No… it was over. And you had to go lest winding up a sobbing mess on the floor in front of him. On top of your own cum.

So you leave him. Falling away from his body delicately. Feeling the cold air on your legs makes you feel even emptier. You still bounce away, jogging up the stairs like you always do.

And Daryl watches you go, no wiser to the fact that you were somehow upset. Not upset, overwhelmed. Over sensitive. Over… everything. Every emotion was too much.

His hand that’s covered in you has been hanging off the side of the arm chair, waiting for you to disappear. He’s been trying to decide if he wants to lick every drop from his hand while he jerks off with the other, or to use your juice as lubricant. He decides to do the former. Savoring every tangy morsel he can until there’s nothing left; even though he came when he was on the second finger.

A/n: actually nah, there’s gonna be another part prob.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader

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httpsghostie · 9 months

Text

Under one Roof pt 1

pt 2

OK finally IT'S HERE

smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing

my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE

and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me

Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.

Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short

Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n

masterlist

Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.

He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.

That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.

He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.

He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.

And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.

He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.

And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.

"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."

"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."

"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."

"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."

Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.

That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that.

"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.

And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.

He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games.

She should know the truth about me.

He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.

You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.

"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.

He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.

Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.

But that changed.

He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.

That old lady, always saving your life.

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod fanfic #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost #ghost call of duty

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hier--soir · 1 year

Text

whole new can of worms

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, famous HOG joel miller lmao, age gap [20 years], language, alcohol consumption, established friendship, guitar playing joel!!, oral [f and m recieving], p in v sex, starts slow and careful and ends up rough oops. word count: 6.9k (nice) series masterlist | masterlist a/n: okay LOOK. i’m working on a final part to this little impromptu series, but I got very side-tracked with the idea of a prequel and then the most smut I’ve ever written just fucking spilled out of me. this is the first time they had sex, ladies and gentlemen. you get the beginning before you get the end. enjoy. also, this moment from tlou pt 2 game is what i was picturing for the beginning when joel is playing the song. dont watch if you don't want to, its from a cut scene very late in the second game. zero spoilers, just joel miller strumming that damn guitar in a way i'll never forget. this is part one of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: two, three, four.

“Play that one I like.”

Joel offered no verbal response, but sat up straighter in his chair, fingers adjusting along the fretboard of his guitar. You relaxed into your seat, closing your eyes and taking a long sip from your glass of amber liquor.

He began playing and you smiled happily, goosebumps breaking out across your skin as the familiar tune filled the air between you and your friend, melding with the sound of rain softly pattering against the roof of his veranda. You kicked your feet up onto the table between you, the tense muscles in your legs aching from the stretch.

“Get your feet off the table,” Joel muttered, fingers never ceasing on the instrument. “Animal.”

Your eyes stayed closed, but you stuck your tongue out in his direction, smirking a little and keeping your feet up, knowing he didn’t really mind.

Both of you had endured a long fucking day.

Winter was fading into Spring, and the trees and plants in Jackson were slowly but surely beginning to bloom again. It meant you were spending more hours in the green house than out on patrol, and you weren’t complaining. Tending to the garden relaxed you, connected you to nature and to one of the food sources in the commune that helped put a little bit of food on everyone’s plate each week. Working there made you feel connected to the town, and you loved it, truly. Except, for when a thunderstorm happened.

They’d scared you for as long as you could remember. Since you were a kid, thunder and lightning had made you want to crawl under the covers on your bed and hide away until the loud noises disappeared. But as a full-grown woman, you weren’t afforded such luxuries. Rain, hail or shine, the people in Jackson depended on each other, and you couldn’t duck out of a shift because of a silly little phobia.

When the rain started pouring down on the glass roof of the greenhouse you hadn’t been surprised. Only a few weeks into springtime, the town was still shaking off the remnants of a bitterly cold winter, and a little rain was still common. It was only when the first crack of thunder sounded that you’d stilled, hands frozen gripping a heavy pot, an unwelcome shiver racing down your spine. You’d had to work for hours, the sound of rain pelting against the roof accompanying you, with flashes of lightning appearing out of the corner of your eye all day.

When all was said and done, you’d trudged through the downpour to Joel’s house and arrived on his doorstep looking like a drowned rat, only to find out that he’d spent his afternoon stuck outside on patrol, in the very weather you were so upset about.

He’d opened the door with damp hair, bundled in warm clothes, the tip of his nose a light shade of pink from the cold.

“Whiskey?” he’d asked.

You nodded. “Whiskey.”

And so the pair of you had ended up on his porch, under cover from the residual spit of rain, forgetting all about the shit day through good company and good alcohol.

As Joel strummed the last few chords of the song you sighed glumly, cracking an eye open to watch him. He set the guitar down gently and reached for his glass.

“So beautiful,” you murmured. “Wish I could play.”

“And then what use would I be?” he chuckled. “Can’t have you learning guitar; I’d have no one to play for anymore.”

You watched him closely. Staring into his glass, you could see him mulling the words over in his head. Ellie had hardly spoken a word to him in weeks, and you could see the toll it was taking, although you never pried. Clearly, something had happened, and although you and Joel were close, you hadn’t wanted to insert yourself into whatever drama had consumed his little found family. It made your chest hurt though, to watch him miss that girl. He’d always loved playing for her.

“Good thing I’m lazy then,” you mused softly. “Swear I couldn’t play an instrument with a gun to my head. I’ll need to keep you around.”

“Works for me,” he said, refilling both your glasses. “You on the patrol roster tomorrow?”

You shook your head, accepting the glass with a grateful smile. A slight buzz warmed your insides, fighting to keep your body temperature up as the cool breeze licked at your exposed hands and face. “Nope, I’m a free agent tomorrow, no responsibilities.”

“God damn,” he rolled his eyes. “Gonna be stuck out there all alone with Tommy.”

“Devastating,” you grinned. “I’m way better company.”

“Too right,” Joel agreed. “What’s your plan for the day, little miss no responsibilities? Still reading that book I found you?”

Probably masturbate. The thought zipped through your mind so suddenly that you felt your chest warm, and you cleared your throat softly.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Probably just read for a while. Dinner at Maria and Tommy's, remember?”

You hoped he didn’t see through the lie, because the truth was that you were embarrassed by yourself. Only a few days before you’d been struck by the realisation that you hadn’t had sex, or even been touched intimately by another person, in months. In fact, you noted sullenly, it had been half a fucking year. And you were struggling. It was your longest dry spell in a while, and every night lately you’d found yourself tangled up in your bed with your hand in your underwear, wishing desperately that someone, anyone, else was there with you.

Trying to ward off the unsavoury thoughts filling your mind, you took a deep gulp of whiskey and shut your eyes, contemplating asking if he had any cigarettes laying around.

Suddenly, a deep groan pierced the air between you and your eyes shot open. What the fuck?

With wide eyes, you saw that Joel was gripping his right leg tightly, thumb rubbing deep circles into the skin above his knee cap, and you forced yourself to relax. A sound of pain, you realised. But your heart had stuttered in your chest, because as out of character as it would’ve been, with your eyes closed it had sounded like a vaguely sexual noise. You rolled your eyes, willing yourself to get a grip. But it had been so long, and the sound of a man groaning in any way was enough to light a fire in your stomach.

“It’s the cold,” he noticed your stare. “Makes my knee ache.”

You nodded knowingly, eyes watching as his large hand gripped his thigh, applying pressure to the tender area.

“What’s up your ass?” Joel asked.

“Huh?” your gaze flashed up to meet his and found him watching you closely, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re frownin’,” he said. “Gone all quiet suddenly.”

“So are you,” you huffed defensively, face warming. “You always fucking frown, I can’t do it one time?”

“No,” he grinned cheekily, stilling rubbing his knee. “I frown enough for the both of us. You can figure somethin’ else out.”

You let out a begrudging chuckle and felt the indent between your eyebrows relax.

“Seriously,” he pushed. “What’s wrong? Is it too cold? We should move inside.”

“No,” you cringed, scratching the side of your neck awkwardly. Lowering your legs off the table you sat up a little straighter in your chair. “It’s good out here, I like it. I’m just… distracted, I don’t know.”

“What’s on your mind?” he sipped his whiskey.

Without needing any more prompting, you gave up on beating around the bush. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

A choked sound escaped him, and he swallowed quickly, coughing into his elbow. “Christ, what?”

“I’m not,” your cheeks were on fire. “I’m not thinking about you having sex, relax. I was thinking about me having sex. Or not having sex, to be more precise.”

He coughed again, an awkward expression flashing across his face.

You and Joel had been friends for a few years now, since he and Ellie returned to Jackson and decided to settle in the commune. After being friends with Tommy for a few years before that, you’d fallen into a natural friendship with his older brother. It was no secret that there was 20 odd year age difference between you and Joel, but in a post-apocalyptic world, it had never phased either of you. Friends were friends, and an age gap didn’t impact much. But sex was a topic that had seldom come up in conversation over those few years. Here and there maybe, but never in detail, and never so candidly.

“I almost walked in on Shae and Petra fucking the other day,” you continued plainly. “She was late for patrol, so I went over to see if she’d slept in, and I could hear them from outside the fucking house. Stood there like an ass for a minute, just listening like a creep.”

Joel watched you closely, and you noticed his hand gripped his glass a little tighter, fingertips white from the pressure “You… listened?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” you cringed, rubbing a hand over your face shamefully. “Just for a fucking second. Hadn’t realised how long it had been, and it was like my feet wouldn’t move.”

“I see.”

“You better not tell a soul about this,” you pointed at him threateningly. “I’ll end you if anybody finds out, Miller. I swear.”

“I believe you,” he snorted, holding his hands up in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”

You relaxed a little, relieved to discover that he wasn’t going to be as awkward about it as you’d first feared.

“How long has it been?”

Your eyes ticked up to stare at him again. “Like, six months or something.”

Joel let out a low whistle and nodded slowly, sipping from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “You poor soul.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoffed in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re having sex and I’m not? This just keeps getting worse.”

“Fuck you,” he drawled mockingly, that deep Texan accent making you grin. “Would it be such a surprise if I was?”

“S’just bullshit,” you glowered, picking at your nails in frustration. Traces of soil still lined the creases in your palms and you rubbed at it furiously, in a fruitless attempt at cleaning them.

“I’m not,” is all he said, and you frowned at him in confusion. “Havin’ sex,” he added with a smirk. "And it's been longer for me, so quit your whinin'."

You raised your eyebrows, appreciating the honesty. “Well thank god I’m not the only one.”

“Don’t know when I would,” he shrugged simply. “And who would I be having sex with, anyways? Spend all my fuckin’ time on patrol listening to Tommy talk for hours, or I’m sleepin’, or I’m with you.”

The thought itched so suddenly at the back of your brain, and you fought against it, shaking your head ever so slightly to push it away. Don’t think that. But it was persistent, and after a few moments of silence, your mind was filled with thoughts of you and Joel Miller fucking.

Admittedly, it was something you’d thought about once or twice when you’d first met him. He was a handsome guy, and his arrival in Jackson had definitely caused a stir among the women in the commune. But you’d fallen into a friendship so quickly, so comfortably, that the thought had never reared its ugly head again. Until now.

You watched him for a moment. His hair was dry at that point, and short messy curls framed his face and neck. He had neat dark facial hair, with sweet specks of ashy grey mixed in here and there. That familiar scar on the bridge of his nose. Lips that had gone a darker shade of pink from the cold, that you’d never realised looked quite so… plush. Eyes trailing down, your gaze raked over his hands. Long, calloused fingers that wrapped around almost the entirety of his glass. the warmth in your stomach spread downward, and you knew you should feel embarrassed at where your brain was taking you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Images flashed through your mind of his hands gripping you like that. Fingers leaving marks on your thighs, on your neck. You shivered, looking away quickly.

“Fuck,” you sighed quietly, not even caring if he heard.

“Hey,” he said softly, assuming you were upset. “Someone’ll come along. We could talk to Tommy about setting you up or somethin’.”

You hummed noncommittally and turned in your chair to face him head on. Joel noticed and adjusted his position to do the same, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that look?” he asked, eyebrows pinching together.

Jesus, here goes nothing.

“What if we fucked?”

Joel stared. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and he put his glass down on the table with a soft clink.

“What?” he said lowly, his voice taking on a sudden gravelly quality.

“I mean,” you searched desperately for the words to explain yourself, licking your lips nervously. “You said it yourself, we’re so busy, right? Always working, or sleeping, or we’re hanging out, you and me. So, what if we just… blew off a little steam together?”

His eyebrows had raised so dramatically you thought they might disappear into his hairline. It wasn’t often you managed to shock Joel, and you laughed gently at the astounded expression that decorated his face.

“You want to blow off steam… with me?” he pointed lamely at his chest.

“Don’t sound so incredulous,” you joked. “You’re a catch, Joel. You know the teens call you a HOG, right? Hot old guy.“

“Shut up,” he held up a hand to silence you, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as you laughed at his embarrassment. “Don’t want to hear that shit.”

“It wouldn’t mean anything, Joel,” you reassured, veering back on topic. “We could just… help each other wind down after a long day.”

You watched each other in silence for a moment, and you noticed him shuffle slightly in his seat, hand gripping his knee once again. For a minute, you worried that you’d upset him. The friendship you two shared was strong, and you always known you could confide almost anything in him. He was trustworthy, and valued your word above so many others. But maybe this was over the line.

As you were about to speak again, about to take it all back and apologise for even suggesting it, he finally opened his mouth.

“It wouldn’t mean anything?” he clarified. “This won’t affect our friendship.”

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing at all. No strings, bud. Final offer.”

With a deep, rumbling sigh, Joel snatched his glass off the table and downed the remainder of its contents before standing up. “Alright then.”

You’d been in Joel’s room a hundred times over the years. Hauling him out of bed for patrol after he’d accidentally slept in, or rifling through his chest of drawers to steal a thick pair of socks. But never for this reason. The pair of you stood awkwardly at the foot of his bed, staring at everything other than each other, as the air crackled with palpable tension.

Joel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you smirked, unfamiliar with seeing him being unsure of himself.

“If you don’t want to, we can just forget I ever sai-“

“Just taking your fuckin’ clothes off,” he grunted, staring you down suddenly. Wide eyed, you felt a rush of heat through your thighs.

“Jesus,” you breathed. “Romance isn’t dead.”

He huffed out a laugh and your shoulders relaxed, happy to see a crack through his tense façade. Your tugged off your sweater, and then your shirt, tossing them over the chair in the corner of his room. Working quickly, you undid the zipper on your pants and pulled them down your legs until you were left in your underwear, a thin white singlet, and your socks.

You reminded yourself that Joel had already seen you naked, thinking back on a time when the two of you had gone skinny dipping in a lake you stumbled across on patrol the summer before. But this was so different. This wasn’t a random moment of spontaneity. And at the lake he'd been a gentleman, averting his eyes for the most part out of politeness, but now? Now he was watching your every move.

Silently, he undid the strap off his watch and placed it on the top of his dresser, before working to undo the buttons on his shirt. After he had tugged it off, you let your eyes trail over his exposed skin, and with no fabric covering him, you could see how quickly his chest rose and fell.

“Hey,” you said quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. You felt his heart race under the warm skin and smiled. “It’s just me. Let me help you relax, okay?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t dwell on it though, and leaned forward to drag your lips across the skin of his neck. He smelt like rain and pine needles, and you inhaled deeply, pressing soft kisses along his pulse point. One of his hands landed heavily on your waist and his thumb begun rubbing encouraging circles over your hip bone. You hummed against his skin, pressing your chest against his. Exposed to the cool temperature, your nipples pebbled underneath your shirt, and from his exhale you knew he could feel them pressing against his bare chest.

With a slight tremor in your hand, you trailed your fingers down his chest. Through the soft hair smattered there, over the thick jagged scar on his stomach, to his belt buckle. Joel shivered lightly, gripping your waist a little tighter. You worked quickly to undo his belt, and then you dragged his zipper down. With a low sigh, you rested your hand over the front of his pants. He jolted slightly, hand sliding around your back to hold you tighter to his chest. With your face hidden in his neck, you couldn’t see his reaction, but you took the firm pressure of his hand on your back as a clear sign to continue. You palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm. A surge of confidence rushed through you, and you stepped away, letting your hand fall away from him. His arm dropped from your back to his side, and he watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him.

You gripped the waistband of his pants and started to drag them down his legs, helping him step out of them. Wearing nothing but a tight pair of briefs, it was impossible not to stare. You could see the shape of him through the dark fabric, your mouth salivated. More, you needed to see more. Without wasting a second, you tucked your fingers into the band of them and pulled them down slowly, giving him the chance to stop you if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He watched you with hooded dark eyes, chest moving with deep controlled breaths, his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. With his underwear gone, Joel’s cock finally came into your sight. He was only half hard, you realised with awe, and your stomach tingled as you realised what you were in for. Reaching out, your traced your fingers slowly over his hip bones, smiling as goosebumps broke out across his skin, before gently wrapping your fingers around him.

A shaky breath escaped from his nose.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, hand stroking softly along his length. He nodded jerkily. “Why don’t you sit on the bed?”

Joel dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed, and you moved forward to rest on your knees in between his parted legs, placing your hand back over him. The air in the room had turned humid, and you could feel sweat forming on your back out of anticipation. The only light source came from the moon shining in his window, bathing the both of you in a pale light.

“You’re so handsome,” you sighed wistfully, gripping him tighter. “I’ve always known it, but seeing you like this is different. So handsome, Joel.”

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping your skin and massaging the knotted muscle at the top of your back. You groaned appreciatively, and without another moment’s hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his thigh. No more fucking around. You needed him.

Your hand stroked him firmer, tighter, but your mouth was salivating, desperate to taste him. So you dragged wet kisses along his leg until you reached his abdomen, and then you brought your wet mouth to hover over his cock. You heard his breath hitch and smiled devilishly, staring greedily at his ruddy tip, marvelling as a drop of precum leaked out of him. Painfully slow, you pushed forward and pressed a kiss to it, tongue darting out to swipe along him and taste his salt. Joel hissed in surprise, gripping your shoulder tighter as his other hand moved to the back of your head. Not putting any pressure there, just holding you. Lathing your tongue over his head, you moaned lowly at the taste of him. Salty and warm and masculine. You could feel your underwear sticking uncomfortably against you from how wet you were. Closing your eyes, you cupped his balls gently and pressed wet kisses down his length, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein that ran from base to tip, and basking in the short gasps that flew out of his mouth.

“Stop teasin’,” he grumbled, and you looked up with a smirk to see his dark eyes glaring down at you.

“Sorry,” you lied, before taking his head into your warm mouth and sucking gently. Slowly, you pressed forward, taking more of him in. You felt him swell against your tongue, getting harder from the stimulation, and you hummed around him. He was so big. Maybe bigger than anyone you’d been with, and you struggled to take it all. He was so thick and heavy in your mouth, it was all you could think about. Consuming every thought, every feeling; all you could focus on was the weight of him on your tongue. You worked on creating a rhythm, bobbing your head and taking as much of him in your mouth as you could, while your hand gripped him at the base, stroking him at the same time.

And finally, finally, he made a sound.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, drawing out the vowel as a heavy breath he’d been holding escaped his lungs. His fingers dragged through your hair roughly, gripping the back of your head. You pushed yourself forward, taking more of him in until he was pressing into your throat, and you swallowed tightly around him. “Christ, feels so fuckin’ good.”

Seemingly against his will, Joel’s hips bucked upward off the bed and you gagged around him, tears springing into your eyes. He moaned lowly, cursing under his breath at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. Unable to help yourself, you removed your hand from him and lowered it down your body, slipping your fingers underneath the band of your underwear and dipping into the wet heat between your own legs. Breathing harshly through your nose, you moaned around him as your finger brushed your aching clit. You pulled back and worked your tongue over his weeping slit, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightened as you paid close attention to the most sensitive part of him.

“You’re drivin’ me insane,” he ground out, and you glanced up to see him watching you reverently, eyes wide and glossy, cheeks flushed. “So fuckin’ hot. God, you have the prettiest mouth, how did I never notice that? Never fuckin’ thought about how good my cock would look between your lips until it was happening. I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

Your cunt pulsed against your fingers and you whimpered, taking him back in your mouth as far as you could. God, the way he spoke made you fucking ache for him. after so many years of knowing him, hearing his voice every day, you’d never have imagined him saying things like that to you. But the weight of him in your mouth was delicious, and his words only spurred you to push forward, forward, forward, revelling in the way he groaned as your nose brushed the dark curls at his base. Tears leaked out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks from the effort, but you didn’t stop. You slid a finger inside yourself and gagged around him again, eyes rolling back in your head at the intoxicating sensation of having something inside both your mouth and your pussy.

“Takin’ me so well,” his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tears. “God, I’m in your fuckin’ throat, baby.” The pet name made your stomach tighten, and you moaned as more slick formed around your fingers.

“Shit,” he choked out suddenly, losing all composure. “Are you fucki-“

You moaned, eyebrows furrowing as you fucked your hand and bobbed your mouth up and down quicker over his length.

“Stop,” he ordered, saying your name firmly. “I- Stop, I’m gonna come.” You ignored him, making a high-pitched sound around him as you felt the hot coil in your stomach begin to tighten. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and he pulled you off him.

You blinked lazily up at him, eyebrows furrowed dejectedly, lips parted. A string of saliva hung in the air between your bottom lip and his tip. You dragged your fingers out of your underwear, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“Jesus, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” he groaned and broke eye contact, gripping your shoulder to pull you up off the floor. “Get up.”

Pushing gently on your shoulders, he nudged you forward onto the bed, and you crawled up before collapsing with your heads against the pillows. His bed was softer than you’d anticipated, and everything smelt like him. The pillows, the duvet. God, even if this was a one-time thing, you’d never forget that smell. He followed you, settling with his legs in between yours, and placed his palms on your stomach, pushing the thin material of your shirt up and over your breasts until it was bunched around your collarbones. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest, and you were aching for him, begging him with your eyes to just please, do something, anything.

And Joel was on you before you could speak, his fingers tracing and over your nipples, squeezing the weight of your breast in his palm before latching his lips onto you. He sucked your painfully tight nipple into his mouth, tongue lazily swiping across it, driving you insane. You sighed heavily, running a hand over the skin of his back and holding him to you. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin ever so lightly and your back arched off the bed. Moving over, he shifted his ministrations to your other breast, his eyes closed as he wet your skin with his slick mouth. And then one of his hands was drifting down your stomach, tickling over your skin, under it met your underwear, and he was cupping you through the fabric. Your hips stuttered upward, and he groaned into your chest, trailing his fingers over the soaked material.

“So fuckin’ wet already,” he muttered into your skin, and you nodded franticly against the pillows. “Did you get this turned on just from havin’ my cock in your mouth? Had to touch yourself?” Surprise zapped through you once more, ecstatic to learn just how much he loved to talk during sex. It was one of your favourite things, and it had always killed you to have sex with someone who was just silent the whole time.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Wanted you to finish in my mouth.”

He bit down onto your chest in response and you cried out quietly, eyes rolling back as he sucked a mark onto your skin with his fingers continued tracing feather light over your covered core.

“Maybe later,” his voice was strained. “Need to see you come first.”

He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, and then he was touching you with no barrier, and you trembled beneath him. You’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone else’s hands on you.

Joel groaned as he dipped his middle finger between your warm folds, gliding it up and down along your core, getting it covered in your slick. He swirled the tip of his finger around your entrance and you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his hand. But he didn’t go inside you. His finger moved back up, all the way up, and swiped gently over your clit and you let out a pathetic moan. Such a small, miniscule touch had your stomach tensing painfully, ridiculously close to orgasm after so much time.

Bringing his face up to rest beside yours, he sucked your earlobe into his mouth gently, before murmuring in your ear, “I want to taste you.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned by the feeling of his fingers against you, until he probed you for a response, purring your name into your ear.

“Need to hear you say it,” he encouraged. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please,” you begged, eyes shut tightly as he rubbed soft circles around your bundle of nerves. “I want you to taste me.” A grunt of frustration left your mouth as his hand disappeared and you opened your eyes to glare at him, but your mouth fell open, awestruck, when you saw him raise his soaked digits to his lips.

“Like this?” he goaded, sucking your slick off himself and groaning.

“Please,” you repeated, mouth dry as you watched him hum around his middle finger. “Need your mouth on me, your tongue, I-“

“Okay,” he soothed, moving down the bed in an instant. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

He spread your legs apart, fingers splayed as he held your thighs against the bed, displaying your weeping centre for him to see. A deep sound echoed though the room, and it took you a moment to realise it had been Joel. His dark eyes stared at the spot between your legs, and he dragged his fingers through the coarse hair that covered you.

His movements were torturously slow as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses on your hips, along the inside of your thighs, until finally his hot breaths were fanning across your core. You clenched around nothing, whimpering at how empty you felt but knowing it would have to wait.

It was like stepping into a warm bath. The second his tongue was on you, fire raced through your veins, warming your body from head to toe. A sound of relief slipped from your lips, and your eyes rolled back as he licked a broad stripe up the entire length of you. A raspy groan vibrated against you as he pressed a messy kiss against your pussy. You looked down and gasped at the sight of his eyes already on you, watching you and your reactions to him.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he drawled against you and you twitched at the sensation of his lips brushing against your clit. His thumbs pressed against your folds, holding you open for him to see everything, and he lathed his warm tongue against your clit, circling it until you were moaning and tensing your thighs against his hold, muscles screaming at you to press against his head and hold him to you.

You whispered his name over and over as if it were a prayer. As if you’d forgotten all other words in the English language and his name was your only salvation. His tongue dipped inside your entrance, prodding firmly until you whimpered and begged him to please, please, let you come.

He ate you out like a man possessed. Like you were his last meal and he intended to savour every god damn second of the experience. He was ravenous, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in your body tighten until you were gasping. At some point your hand had drifted behind his head and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling it tightly as his mouth moved against you.

“Joel,” you groaned. He hummed against you, movements never ceasing. “Oh fuck, Joel, I’m gonna come.”

His eager moan into your cunt was all it took for you to be catapulted over the precipice and drop into your orgasm. Your body was on fire, vibrating against him as you trembled through it, moans and cries leaving your mouth as your way of thanking him. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, and there would no doubt be marks there tomorrow to remind you were his fingertips had dug into your skin. As your body relaxed into the mattress again, he pressed a final kiss to your clit before pulling back and dragging his face across your thigh, wiping the remnants of your slick off his facial hair.

“Fuck,” he rasped, grinning up at you with glistening lips.

“So good,” you agreed, nodding as you tried to catch your breath.

“Almost came all over the sheets,” he admitted and you laughed, beckoning him towards you. He stumbled a bit, one of his knees buckling below him on the bed, leading him to land awkwardly on top of you.

“Shit,” he groused. “Sorry, bad fuckin’ knee. You’ve got me all bent out of shape.”

You chuckled lowly, pulling him up to lay beside you on the bed. “Let’s not put anymore pressure of them then, okay?” He watched you carefully, curiously, as you turned on your side and then moved backwards, pressing yourself flush against his chest.

His cock pulsed against your ass, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed on your stomach to hold you against him as he rutted forward. The feeling of his wet tip dragging along your skin reignited the fire in you and you whimpered, lifting your leg only to push it back and drape it over his waist as much as you could.

“You want it like this?” he asked urgently, hot breaths fanning across your sweaty neck. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on it gently.

You nodded, and waited as he pushed his body a little lower on the bed. His hand disappeared from your chest, and you allowed yourself to pout a little, only because you knew he couldn’t see your face. And then his left arm slithered underneath your shoulder and wrapped loosely your neck, gripping your opposite arm to pin you against him. His free hand gripped his cock and pushed it forward until he was sliding his head between your folds.

Both of you sighed at the sensation and you gripped his arm in anticipation. You could feel his torso moving against your back as he breathed, the soft hair on his chest tickling your skin.

“You ready?” he asked and you grunted, pushing back against him again.

“Joel,” you said in a dangerously low tone. “If you’ve ever cared about me, you will stop teasing and fuck me right now.”

He laughed darkly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

He notched his tip at your entrance and you gasped as he pressed forward, pressing himself inside of you. It took what felt like minutes for him to bottom out, and when you felt his hips pressing against your ass, you tried to relax. The burn was intense, and you cursed yourself for not anticipating a little bit of pain after such a long dry spell. Joel held still, fingers stroking carefully over the skin of your shoulder, understanding that you needed a second.

“Fuck,” you choked out. “Joel, you’re huge.”

He let out a gravelly sound into the back of your neck, body shuddering against yours. “You’re takin’ it so well though,” he gritted out. “So tight around me, grippin’ me so good.”

He pulled back a touch before pressing back into you, and you moaned deeply. That was all the confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of you before moving into you harder, stronger, and beginning a steady pace. Your body jolted forward with every one of his movements, but his arm around your neck held you firmly, never allowing you to go too far.

Curses drifted from your mouth, and you hid your face in his arm, biting down on the muscle of his bicep to stifle your sounds. You clenched around him suddenly and his hips stuttered forward, slamming into you in a way that made your stomach tense deliciously. He was so fucking deep, the angle allowing him to glide against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuckin’,” he moaned. “You’re so good, bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you darlin’?”

You writhed in his arms, accepting the brutal pace he’d set. His skin connected with yours over and over, a satisfying smack, smack, smack sound filling the air.

“J-Joel,” you sobbed. “Oh my fucking god, I-“ He cut you off, gripping your chin and swiftly tugging your face upward so he could see you, and then his mouth was crashing down on yours. He groaned into your mouth, tongue pressing against your lips to part them and then tangling against yours. His lips were soft and wet and you didn’t even care about the odd angle your neck was twisted at as you moaned into it. His thrusts didn’t let up for a second, even as you murmured desperate sounds against each other’s lips.

“C’mon,” he grunted into your mouth. “Give me another one.” His hand dropped to grip your neck, the sensation only heightening the feeling of him inside you. Liquid heat was spreading in your abdomen, curling through your veins, turning your entire body into jelly. His free hand drifted down your stomach and then his middle finger was dragging across your clit, and a harsh cry spilled from your mouth.

“Shit,” you gasped, face contorting as you felt yourself near your end. He was fucking everywhere, holding you against him by your neck, pounding into you while his fingers circled your clit roughly, and the coil in your stomach just snapped. You yelled his name, body tensing up as he pushed into you, wet squelching sounds filling the air as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Say my name,” his voice urged in your ear, and you happily obliged, chanting his name like a mantra as he worked your body through it. Within a minute he was groaning frantically, and then he pulled out, and you could feel his come coating your back as he finished. You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His mouth was ajar, soft curses falling from his lips as he gripped his cock, angling it towards you as he painted your skin with his spend.

“Sorry,” he rushed out breathlessly, wide eyes meeting yours. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his orgasm, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and you smiled at the sight. But he looked concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you warily.

“For what?” you frowned softly, rolling forward onto your stomach to free his arm that was trapped underneath you. “What’s wrong?”

“Came on you,” he clarified. “Should’ve asked first.”

A grin split across your face and his eyes lit up when he saw it, face relaxing again. “Ever the gentleman,” you chuckled. “It’s fine Joel, it was hot.”

His body relaxed and he dropped down to rest on his back, looking at you with a soft, curious expression. “It was,” he agreed quietly.

For a moment the pair of you just laid there, gazing at each other in a moment of wonder, before you suddenly became aware of how much colder the room was now that it was over. You shivered slightly, lifting to sit on your knees. Joel’s eyes trailed over your exposed body, gazing at your breasts, and your stomach, before resting on your face again.

“I’m gonna shower, and then hit the road,” you told him, cringing at the prominent ache between your thighs as you stepped off the bed. You picked your clothes up off the chair in the corner and turned back to look at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night right, dinner at Maria and Tommy’s?”

He was watching you in a daze, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Dinner at Maria and Tommy’s.” His eyes suddenly widened and he rolled over, reaching underneath his pillow before revealing a piece of small dark fabric. Your underwear. He held them out in your direction.

“Keep them big guy,” you winked, and he laughed deeply, dropping them back onto the bed.

You padded towards the door, ready to pop into the bathroom and then head home, before a thought struck you. Resting your shoulder against the doorway you looked at him again, smiling at the sight of him lying naked and fucked out on the bed, eyes closed as he breathed deeply. He looked about as relieved as you felt.

“Hey Joel,” you said quietly, and his eyes flashed open, raising an eyebrow at you. “Between us, right? Probably best if we don’t tell anyone else this happened.”

He nodded once, smiling lazily. “Between us.”

part two

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fwb joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #my writing #cat's outta the bag #don't cry over spilt milk #whole new can of worms

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corrodedcorpses · 1 year

Text

Boys on Film. Part iv

Pairing: PS!Steve x PS!Eddie x Virgin!reader

Summary: It's been a year since you last saw Eddie and Steve. The last place you expected to see them again for the first time was at a club while you were out with your new boyfriend. The night does not go how you imagined it at all.

Warnings: Smut (18+ MDNI), public sex (ish), fingering, angst, cheating (sorry)

Word count: 6.8K

a/n: I hope this kind of makes up for the ending of the last chapter but also I'm sorry in advance. (also as always a massive thank yous to my babies @andvys @wroteclassicaly @usedtobecooler @bimbobaggins69 for all of your help I love you all so much)

Taglist is closed but if you want an update on when I post the next chapter you can follow my fic account @corrodedcorpsesfics and turn on notifications🖤

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4.5

Steve and Eddie stare at your closed door that had just been slammed in their face moments ago. It had all gone so wrong, so fast. Neither of them had meant for it to go that way or to fight like that with you. All of their (and your own) long harboured emotions coming out during the fight, all of the love turning into hate in order to protect your hearts from - what you all assumed - would no doubt be rejection.

Eddie is the first to break eye contact with your door. Scoffing and walking toward his van as Steve leans his head on the door, closing his eyes trying to will you to open it again. He’s almost sure he can hear tiny sobs coming from the other side and it feels like his heart is breaking all over again.

He can hear Eddie behind him, pacing and grumbling out “shit”, “fuck” and mumbling “that was so stupid” over and over again. Steve is frozen in place, he knows as soon as he breaks away from your door that it’s all over, that he’ll have to face the reality of what just happened. He doesn’t know if he can do that yet.

A loud smack, that was obviously Eddie’s palm hitting his car, finally jolts Steve out of his self pity. He finally turns to him, watching as Eddie continues to pace and mumble expletives under his breath, his ringed fingers running through his hair with so much force Steve thinks he’s about to rip it all out.

“Eddie,” he tries, too quietly as the other man doesn’t stop.

He glances at your door one more time before sighing and walking up to Eddie.

“Eddie,” he says more firmly, standing next to where he continues to pace, “come on man-”

“Don't you ‘come on man’ me,” Eddie interrupts, whipping around to finally look at Steve, “what the fuck was that, Harrington.”

Steve flinches at the use of his last name, something Eddie only uses to tease or hurt him.

“What the fuck was what, Munson?” Steve throws his own surname back at him with just as much venom, Eddie squinting his eyes into a glare.

“All that,” Eddie explains, wildly gesturing to your house, “bullshit you pulled in there. ‘At least you wouldn’t have been a virgin in your twenties’,” he mocks what Steve had said to you.

“The bullshit I pulled?” Steve almost shouts back, “What about you, huh?” He asks, a finger poking into Eddie’s chest to reiterate his point. “You didn’t break that shit to her gently at all! No wonder she went straight into ‘defence mode’.”

Eddie just rolls his eyes at him, even though he knows Steve's right.

The action only angers Steve more. “I wasn’t even in that stupid argument until you dragged me in with your bullshit about hanging out with King Steve.”

Eddie visibly cringes at the memory of using Steve’s old title, one he knew Steve loathed and has done years of work to be anything but. But, Eddie couldn’t let Steve ‘win’ the argument. If he did he would have to admit that all of this was his fault.

“Whatever,” Eddie scoffs, “the argument only turned nasty as soon as you put your 2 cents in! The shit you said was just—” Eddie pauses, remembering how Steve had teased him for not ‘making a move’ on you sooner, saying everyone thought you were Eddie’s ‘property’ during high school, outing him for scaring away anyone that dared to get close to you because he knew that weren’t good enough for you, “mean.”

Eddie whispers the last word. The only word he could come up with to express how he felt, how that whole argument transported him right back to his teenage years, something he truly thought he had gotten over from the help of you and Steve. Something he obviously was far from getting over.

Steve’s demeanour changes, he can see the hurt in Eddie’s eyes, the sliver of vulnerability that he’s been hiding behind his rage. He understands the weight that one word holds.

“I didn’t intend for it to be mean, I just, I don’t know, it just–-” he’s taken aback, stuttering through some sort of an explanation, but there isn’t one. He was mean.

“It’s like you wanted to hurt her,” Eddie continues, but he doesn’t mean just you, “hurt me.” He whispers so softly, he’s sure Steve wouldn’t even hear him. But Steve does.

“What? Why would I want to hurt someone I love!” Steve says too quickly in response, eyes widening when he realises what he just said, what he just confessed to Eddie. But when he looks at Eddie he only sees hurt in his eyes.

Eddie still doesn’t think Steve heard him say ‘hurt me’, so he takes Steve’s confession as a confession of love for you, not you and him.

Eddie just laughs with no humour, shaking his head. “I was fucking right, I fucking knew you hadn’t changed – you’re such an asshole, man.”

The cogs in Eddie’s head turn, thinking back to how Steve had said all those things against him, no doubt finally seeing his opportunity to put a wedge between you both, so Steve could finally have you all to himself.

Steve just stares at him in shock as whatever fragments of his heart that were left break even further. He didn’t think Eddie loved him back but there was some part of him that had hoped, that had at least thought Eddie would be nice about it, gentle with his heart even if he didn’t want to keep it.

He didn’t think Eddie would laugh in his face and call him an asshole.

“Wow,” Steve says to himself in disbelief, “okay.” He feels the tears well up in his eyes as his chest physically aches from all of the heartbreak tonight. He doesn’t want Eddie to see him break down, he'd no doubt laugh at his misery.

He starts to walk away from Eddie, it’s the only thing he can think to do. It’s only a couple of miles to his house, the air isn’t too cold and it’s not too late — he can easily just walk home, he thinks.

“Steve?” Eddie questions as the other boy starts to hurry away from him, “Steve!” He tries again, an air of worry in his voice as he calls out, “Seriously? You’re just gonna walk away from me too huh?” Eddie yells.

“Whatever man,” Steve yells back, already at the end of your driveway, stopping only when his shoes hit the road to look back at Eddie, “you basically just rejected me so, I don’t need this shit anymore.” Steve spits, mentally cursing the way his voice wobbles as he says it. He continues down the road, needing to get as much distance between him and Eddie before he can finally break down.

“What?” Eddie says too quietly, he realises when Steve doesn’t respond, “rejected you?” he shouts this time. But still Steve doesn’t stop.

“Steve! Would you — shit,” Eddie curses. He’s so confused about what Steve meant, he’s so confused about this whole evening but he needs to know. The tiny sliver of his heart that is holding onto hope needs to know what Steve meant.

Eddie runs around to the drivers side and launches himself into his van. Cursing when the engine turns over way too many times before it finally roars to life. He swings out of the driveway like a madman, thanking the universe that you live on a quiet street.

He catches up with Steve quickly, slowing the van down until he’s driving right beside him. He’s happy he never listened to you and Steve about needing to roll his windows up.

“Steve, would you just stop,” Eddie pleads.

“No,” is all Steve replies.

“Steve,” Eddie pleads exasperatedly, “what did you mean?”

But Steve doesn’t answer and he doesn't stop walking. He hopes if he ignores Eddie long enough that he will just leave him alone.

And he thinks his plan worked when Eddie suddenly drives forwards down the road. But, those hopes are shattered when Eddie parks a little bit ahead of Steve and hops out.

Steve finally stops walking as he sees Eddie running towards him. He should just turn around and walk away, circle back around at the other end of your street, it’s a longer way to walk but at least he wouldn’t have to see Eddie. But he doesn’t, his feet won’t let him move. He sees Eddie rushing towards him and his whole body aches for Eddie to just hold him as he breaks down and melts into his arms.

When Eddie finally gets to Steve he’s quick to invade his space, cupping his face tenderly in both of his hands. Eddie searches Steve’s eyes, he can see the unshed tears threatening to spill, the hurt and the tiny bit of hope Steve also holds. It’s enough for Eddie to ask again, even if it could mean more heartache.

“Steve,” he whispers so tenderly, it makes Steve’s knees almost buckle, makes it even harder to not just fall at Eddie’s feet and beg him to love him back, “what did you mean?”

Steve swallows, hard. He looks into Eddie’s big, brown, pleading eyes. He knows he’s about to get his heart smashed, completely obliterated when he explains himself, but he can’t stop his mouth from moving. God, he would do anything Eddie asked while he cradled his face so delicately and looked at him like that.

“I basically just told you I wanted you,” he whispers, eye’s never leaving Eddie’s “a-and you just told me to, to get fucked.” He closes his eyes trying to will his tears to stay at bay, the last sentence coming out all wobbly as he tries to stop his bottom lip from trembling.

“Steve…” Eddie says in a way that has Steve opening his eyes again. He’s met with confusion and yearning swimming in Eddie’s beautiful brown orbs. “You want me?” Eddie asks in disbelief, “I - I thought you were talking about her!” It comes out like a question, like a plea.

“I was,” Steve says, and he can see Eddie’s eyes start to fall, feel his hands on his cheeks loosen, Steve is quick to grab Eddie’s wrists, keeping his hands on his cheeks before quickly continuing, “I was talking about both of you, idiot.” He says the last word fondly, with a hint of a smile dancing on his still trembling lips.

Eddie can’t help but return a small smile of his own. Steve wants him too. He leans forward to capture Steve’s lips with his own. It’s the only thing he can think to do in the moment, the only thing his body will let him do. Steve returns the kiss immediately. It’s soft, so soft that it sears their lips, all of the passion and pent up feelings and anger from the last hour coming out in the way their lips and tongue dance together so slowly.

Eddie finally pulls back after they’ve run out of air, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “I like you too,” he whispers, just in case it wasn’t obvious, revelling in the way it makes Steve smile, “I like you both too.”

Steve pulls back to look at Eddie properly, he can see the mix of happiness and regret all over Eddie’s face.

“Oh.” Steve says. It’s all he can say, he sees the whole argument differently now, sees how stupid they both had been. He realises why Eddie said and did what he did and regrets the things he said to him. Knowing how much more they would have hurt now.

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Eddie replies.

“We're idiots.” Steve sighs.

“Yep.” Eddie agrees.

“Should we… go back inside?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head knowingly, “give her some time, trust me.”

He thinks back to all the times you showed up at his trailer door, sheepishly asking if you could spend the day or the night or the weekend when you were upset. Always claiming to need space from your family after you fought. Eddie never realising what you needed wasn’t space, what you needed was him.

But you never told him that.

So, they do give you time. They give you a day to cool off, to sit with your thoughts before they call, but are only met with silence in return. They try again a day later — and again another day after that. They try to go over to your house a week later but you’re either not there or are pretending not to be.

They try again and again and again until trying every day turns into every two days, which turns into trying every week, which turns into trying every now and then over the next couple of months. The last time they tried was months later when they had had a particularly rough day and just needed you.

All of this was met with silence.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you kicked them out, but you hadn’t expected them to just leave. You had expected them to at least come back later that night or the next day.

Not call you late the next night like that would make up for anything and you didn’t expect it to take them a full week of calling before coming over to try and see you.

All of this just seemed to cement the idea in your head that they didn’t care about you as much as you'd been stupid enough to believe they did.

You didn’t realise how upset and borderline distraught this had also made them. You didn’t realise how upset they were after every failed attempt. How they had both sat on the kitchen floor in their new apartment months later and cried, surrounded by half unpacked boxes after that final time they tried, and failed, to call. Because none of this felt right without you.

And they didn’t realise how you’d done the exact same thing on the floor in your kitchen that night, cursing yourself for not just picking up the damn phone this time.

*******

You hold the two dresses up against your body, one at a time. Trying to decide between the black — tight, revealing and super uncomfortable or the dusty pink — a stark contrast, more modest, cute and comfortable.

You’d spent the last hour getting ready for your date with your boyfriend of about 6 months, Bradley. He was… nice… and fun… and, well, a good distraction. It was nice to feel needed. But, you know deep down that it ultimately won’t go anywhere.

There’s just something… missing. A spark? Passion? Familiarity? The fact that he’s not Eddie or Steve?

You groan at yourself for even having that thought, dropping the dresses back on your bed as your eyes land on the picture on your dresser next to your mirror. It’s a cute photo of you, Eddie and Steve, faces squished together and giant smiles plastered on your faces. A photo you still can’t bring yourself to get rid of.

You sigh and flip it over as you seem to before every date, the picture somehow making you feel guilty. As if the two people in the photo hadn’t completely broken your heart. But you know you’ll just put it back to its original position as soon as you get home again.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, before you make the mistake of going down that black hole of missing them once again. You decide to just go for the revealing, uncomfortable dress — knowing Bradley would probably like it more, praise you for showing off the curves you mostly hid from him.

You’ll hopefully be too drunk to feel the discomfort anyway.

*****

The club is loud and packed when you arrive with Bradley, the bass and the stench of spilled sugary drinks overwhelming. You clutch the strap of the purse that’s across your chest nervously, there’s a split second where you want to turn around, hightail it out of there and cuddle up at home by yourself instead. You from a year ago would’ve, but you’re not that same person anymore.

“Drinks?” He yells at you over the music. He’s at least courteous enough to keep a tight arm around your waist, hugging you in close to shield you slightly from the rowdy party goers who already had one too many to drink.

“Please,” you yell back before you both make your way to the bar. Winding through the growing crowd of rowdy people, his hand heavy on your skin, feeling out of place.

You rest your forearms against the bar, wincing at the sticky feeling underneath. You watch as the bartenders flit around, making the various overpriced, overly sweet drinks for the other patrons who arrived long before you.

Your eyes wander as you wait, taking in the neon signs behind the bar, the shelves of alcohol with countless cheap labels, smiling as you see two girls overly excited to see each other, the guys next to you obviously getting rejected by the girls standing in front of them, the couple that can't seem to keep their hands off each other at the very end of the bar –- wait.

Wait.

You stare at the couple for longer than you should. Your brain taking a second to catch up with your eyes. You can only see the back of the guy as you take in his dark clothes, the chain bracelet on his wrist, the tattoos littered along his pale skin, the bats adorning his forearm, the long mop of curly brown hair- No. No no no no no.

Eddie?

Your head starts to spin, and not just from the overwhelming atmosphere of the club. Why is he here? Why now? Why is he with a girl? You curse yourself for even thinking that last part and for the pang of jealousy in your chest. You’re here with your boyfriend, you can’t be getting jealous of the guy who broke your heart being here with some other girl.

Even if he was your best friend for all of highschool, the only person who got you through that hell hole, one of the only people you’ve ever truly trusted, truly loved, who you definitely still love more than your own boyfriend as much as you try to pretend you don't, whose back is doing more things for you than your boyfriend has the whole time you’ve been dating, who kisses so much better than him, who looks really good right now kissing… Steve?!

It’s only then that Eddie turns slightly, giving you a glimpse of the ‘mystery girl’. You feel like you’re gonna be sick. What are they doing? Here? Together? God they look so good.

All thoughts fail you as you’re mesmerised watching them. The way their bodies press against each other, how Eddie has both hands lazily in Steve's back pockets as Steve's hands fist the front of Eddie’s shirt. Your cunt aches at the way their lips move together as though they’ve done this a thousand times.

They probably have done this a thousand times, you realise. They way they are standing, so relaxed with each other, like there's no hurry to the makeout session, like they have all night.

You're confused and hurt as you watch them. You can’t help but wonder if they’re together, they make a hot couple afterall. But you can’t help the awful feelings that that realisation arises. All of your fears from a year ago come flooding back, you were right. They never wanted you.

Before you can fully spiral you see Bradley’s hand wave in front of your face, it’s then that you realise he’s been talking to you and you see a stressed bartender give you a forced yet polite smile, as they wait for you to tell them what you want.

“Hello? y/n?” He asks, concerned.

“Huh?” You reply, dumb, unable to take your eyes off of them — it’s all your brain can come up with as a response, too absorbed in the scene taking place just feet from you.

“What would you like?” He asks, like he’s already asked you multiple times. You rip your eyes away from them, focusing on Bradley’s face that’s still soft and full of admiration, as if you hadn’t been actively ignoring him. As if time hadn’t just stood still, as you watched on in what could only be described as devastation.

“Oh-- ah-- just my usual,” you say finally, glancing back at Eddie and Steve. Watching as Steve’s hand curls into Eddie's hair, it’s longer now, you realise. I wonder if it would still be as soft or if - you shake that image out of your head. “Maybe some shots? Patreon or tequila, you like both right?” You add quickly.

Bradley seems surprised but compiles, ordering one of his own. You take the small glass in your hand, bringing it up to your lips, the strong smell already paralysing, before downing it as fast as you can. You make the mistake of glancing at Eddie and Steve again as you do, finding yourself making eye contact with Steve, realising they’re both looking at you now. You almost choke on the drink in your mouth, wincing at how the liquid burns more than usual as it slides down your throat.

You grab your drink and Bradley's hand, quickly leading him to the dancefloor. Needing to get as much space between you and the boys as possible.

Eddie and Steve watch you take the other guy's hand with dark eyes. You spare a glance back seeing Steve’s angry eyes as Eddie whispers something in his ear.

Angry? What does he have to be angry about?

You weave in and out of the crowd as they stumble and bump into you, the alcohol making them stagger on their feet and spill their drinks haphazardly on the floor. The further you get lost into the sea of people the more you try to shake Steve and Eddie out of your head, determined to still have a good time despite the anxiety that has wrapped its way around your chest.

Once you’re almost in the centre of the dancefloor, safely concealed by the thrawl of dancers, you turn to your boyfriend. You pull him in close, rocking your hips to the sound of the music and giving him a forced smile.

You dance with him for a while, getting lost in the music as you feel the alcohol seep through your body. Although it does nothing to settle the ugly feeling deep in your stomach. As much as you try you can’t help but spare little glances around the club, not being able to stop yourself from aching for just one more glance at them.

You finally see them, startled by the fact that they’re only a couple of people away from you. Steve is the only one actually dancing but Eddie is happily swaying with him, more than content with and touching Steve and placing gentle kisses all over his neck. Your chest tightens further at the need to tease Eddie about finally dancing, the realisation that you can’t joke with him like that anymore and the jealousy that he would come out to the dancefloor with Steve, even though he never would for you.

As these ugly emotions swirl around your stomach you realise they’re both watching you, stealing glances the same way you are, but a lot less subtly. Your blood boils at the looks they're giving you, they seem hurt and angry and almost… sad? They have no right to.

You turn your attention back to Bradley, you make out and grind against him, every now and then looking at them both and winking when you see them clench their jaws.

You’re confused as you continue your show. What do they have to be angry about? Why do they even care that you’re dancing with someone that isnt them? There was a time when they could’ve had you, a time when you would’ve done anything for them but they were the ones who threw you away. They have no right to be angry now.

Bradley leans down to whisper in your ear, you’re hopeful that he’s going to say something hot, a compliment or something, instead he lets you know he’s going to get more drinks, leaving you alone in the crowd before you can say anything else. You try to not look anxious about being alone in such a dense crowd of strangers, knowing Bradley is going to take a long time with how packed it is.

You find some comfort knowing that Steve and Eddie are close by, although you’re not sure why. You decide to continue dancing, doing the most to look as hot and unbothered as possible, but when you spare another glance at Steve and Eddie you’re surprised to find they’ve also gone. It’s weird how their absence has made you feel more alone than Bradley’s.

You start to leave, deciding to head outside for some fresh air before going to find Bradley where he’s no doubt still waiting at the bar. That is, until you feel hands lightly on your waist. You start to panic, until you hear the stranger whisper in your ear.

“Hey there, little one.”

Eddie.

Your body shudders at hearing his voice again. You have to fight every nerve in your body to not melt back into him, turn around and wrap your arms around him and cry into his chest. But you don’t, you're frozen in place instead.

“We liked that little show you put on for us, sweetheart,” he continues as you feel his hands massage small circles in your hips as he presses himself closer to you, you can feel the outline of his semi against your ass and it takes everything in you not to moan at the feeling.

He starts to rock you both to the music before pressing gentle kisses along your neck. So feather light you’re not sure if you’re actually imagining them, just some mean trick your mind is playing on you. You start to melt back against him, your body betraying you as it’s automatically drawn into the safety of Eddie’s chest and arms.

You let yourself get caught up in the feeling before reality comes crashing down. You have a boyfriend, he has a boyfriend, you can’t be doing this. You snap out of the weird trance you’ve been in, pulling away from Eddie and finally turning to face him, fully preparing yourself to tell him off before you see the look on his face.

It causes your breath to hitch as you see the pure lust written all over his face, his blown and glassy pupils staring into your soul and the possessiveness buried deep inside them that makes your thighs clench.

You go to take a step back, needing space between you both but your back collides with another chest instead. Another set of lips brushing your ear as they whisper lowly to you.

“Don't be like that, honey.”

Steve.

Your head swims at the proximity of both of them. The familiar smells and feel of them crumbling whatever stubborn exterior you were trying to portray.

You feel Steve's hands run along the sides of your waist and down your thighs before tracing light patterns back up again, your dress pulling up at the sides as he does. He pushes against you as Eddie had, although he is a lot more worked up from your little show than Eddie was — a testament to how he always was more of the jealous type.

“Can you feel what your little show did to us baby?” He asks like you’ve wounded them. Eddie pushing against you at the same time. “You’re so fucking naughty, getting us all worked up like that.”

“Anything to say for yourself, miss?” Eddie asks when you don’t respond right away. How could you? Your head feels like it's about to spin off your shoulders, your cunt feels like it’s about to start dripping down your thighs, they’ve thoroughly wrecked you with no more than some gentle touches, barely any grinding and a couple of words whispered seductively in your ears.

You only manage a small moan in response, one that you’re thankful only they can hear over the loud music.

They both chuckle at your response, knowing they have you right where they want you. Loving how fucking easy you are for them.

Steve’s fingers continue to dance along your thighs as Eddie’s hand comes to rest on your waist again, both of them pressing into you and swaying you to the music, causing their hardening cocks to grind against you.

Steve's fingers slide to the front of your dress, tracing up the inside of your thighs as you let out a little whimper. Steve smirks against your skin as he starts to kiss up your throat as Eddie had just before. Your eyes start to flutter shut as Steve’s fingers inch higher, so close to where you desperately need him.

“That feel nice, pretty girl?” Steve asks, although he already knows the answer, “want me to keep going?”

Eddie keeps his eyes trained on your blissed out face, sucking on his bottom lip as he anxiously waits for your answer.

You nod your head slowly, words failing you as you melt back into Steve.

“Ah, ah,” Eddie tuts, “you know the rules princess, use your words.”

“P-please.” You barely breathe out, and Eddie’s sure he would’ve missed it if his eyes weren't glued to your lips.

He nods at Steve, who groans as his fingers finally make contact with your dripping cunt, feeling the slick that’s soaked through your panties.

Eddie holds your waist tighter, half keeping you upright as your legs start to shake, half shielding you from any onlookers as he continues to sway his hips, making it look like you three were just dancing.

Steve dips his fingers into your underwear, moaning in your ear as he gathers your slick on his thick fingers before rubbing your clit.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he teases, “this is all for us huh?”

You can only nod and whine in response, too far gone to be embarrassed by how close they were getting you already. No one except for Steve and Eddie have been able to get you this close this fast.

You feel the coil in your stomach tighten further as Steve's thick digits breach your aching cunt, finding a steady pace immediately, his palm dragging deliciously over your slick clit. Eddie’s grip on your waist becomes so tight you’re sure he’s gonna leave bruises that you’re going to have to try and explain to Bradley later, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re happy that he’s at least holding you somewhat upright as your knees start to get weak.

Eddie presses further into you still to keep you upright, so far that Steve can feel Eddie’s hard cock pulsing against his hand even through his jeans. Making Steve’s cock ache for some sort of release as he starts to rock gently into your ass. Craving some relief.

You feel the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching as you teeter on the edge. Only able to get out small sputters of “I’m, I’m—” before you’re burying your face in the crook of Eddie’s neck as your orgasm comes crashing into you.

Your ears ring and your vision goes white as you ride out your orgasm around Steve’s fingers, rutting against his hand while clinging to Eddie.

When you finally start to come down from your high you’re barely aware of the music still blaring around you, focusing only on Steve’s hands rubbing soothing circles in your thighs, Eddie’s hand in your hair and their praises gently flowing through your ears.

Suddenly, reality hits you like a truck. Completely cracking the walls of whatever weird dream you’ve been trapped in with Eddie and Steve. Suddenly everything seems too much, their touch is suffocating and grating against your skin, the music of the club is blaring too loud, rocking your skull and their sweet whispers might as well be screams in your ear.

You need to get away.

You finally look at Eddie, his eyes meeting yours. He knows that look.

“y/n-,” he tries as you start to squirm out of their grip.

“Let me go”, you suddenly hiss at him, finally breaking free and rushing through the crowd and out the door. You hear them yell after you, but you keep going, their voices being drowned out by the music the further you get away from them.

By the time you finally make it outside you feel as if you can hardly breathe. Your chest is so tight and you struggle to take shallow breaths, you can feel the unshed tears prick your eyes as you try and will them to keep at bay. Although you’re not sure why, you’re almost certain your makeup must be a mess now, most of it left on Eddie’s collar, you doubt a couple of tears would really make much of a difference.

You shakily reach into the clutch still thankfully secured across your chest, fishing out a smoke. You put one between your lips as you try, but fail to find your lighter. You sigh in frustration, of course you’ve lost your lighter.

“Here, let me.” You hear someone whisper, before you see the flicker of a lighter in front of your lips. You don’t have to look up from your clutch to know that it’s Eddie. Your eyes meet his timid ones as you lean forward, using the flame to light the end of your cigarette.

“Thanks,” you mumble before looking beside Eddie, realising Steve also followed you out here.

You all stand in awkward silence, Eddie busying himself by lighting his own cigarette.

“I– ah,” Steve finally breaks the silence. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he needs you to hear, but the words won't form, instead he opts for, “didn’t know you smoked.”

You snort half a laugh, shaking your head. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say but it definitely wasn't that. Sorry would have been a good start… but at least you’re talking, you guess.

“There’s a lot you both don’t know about me anymore,” you reply, deadpan. You see them both visibly flinch at the implication of your words. It's been over a year since they last saw you, you've had a whole year's worth of experiences without them, would they even recognise the person you'd become?

You bring your smoke back up to your lips, thankful for the distraction it provides and for how it's almost calming most of your nerves.

It doesn't, however, distract you enough to not feel their hungry eyes on you. You're surprised your dress doesn't have holes burnt into the fabric with how hot and heavy their gazes are. You adjust your dress with your free hand trying to pull the fabric down, cursing yourself now for wearing the revealing dress.

You don’t want them to see you squirm, you need to keep up this teasing, nonchalant act you were trying to portray, you couldn't let them know how much seeing them again was hurting you.

“See something you like?” You slur seductively at them, not shying away from their eyes. Even as your palms sweat and your heart rattles in your chest.

They both chuckle and shake their heads, not in disagreement but at the absurdity of your question. Of course they did. You looked stunning, confident. In a dress you usually would be too shy to wear. It was nice to see you like this, but it was also weird.

Not weird in a bad way, it just hurt. It hurt them to see that you finally seemed to be growing into yourself and hopefully finally seeing how beautiful you were. Except it was without them.

“You seem… different,” Eddie finally managed. He couldn't think of a better way to put it. Not better, not worse, just different. But that's what heartbreak will do to a person.

“I am different.” You say back, no hidden meaning behind it, like it’s that simple.

They were different. You were different. You’d just grown away from each other. You’d all changed and grown in the year that had passed, in the year that you had all ached for each other. Now here you were, and it felt like you were talking to strangers.

You had a picture of them on your dresser that you saw everyday, and yet it felt like those two men were different from the ones that stood in front of you now.

It makes your whole body ache.

You want to fill the silence, distract yourself from the heavy feeling. You want to mess with them, annoy them, make them even more jealous and angry and hurt than they’ve already seemed to have been tonight.

“Trust me,” you say finally, “I’ve had lots of experience since you last saw me.” You wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, trying to joke around with them as if it’s no big deal.

You see their jaws clench. Eddie fights the urge to scoff at you, to roll his eyes, to scream in your face. Steve is a little better at hiding his distaste at what you’re insinuating. Both knowing they have no right to feel as hurt and betrayed as they do right now.

You’re not theirs.

“Well, they must be some lucky guys then.” Eddie tries to speak sincerely. It comes out like venom.

“Hmm,” you hum, revelling in their reactions. Trying to think of what else you can say to rile them up like this. “And girls,” you say with a wink.

Lies, it’s all lies.

You had drunkenly kissed one girl out the back of a club after too many drinks. She was nice and soft and tasted like vodka and raspberries. But that was it… just a kiss.

The furthest you’d gotten with your current boyfriend was some grinding and heavy touches. Always stopping before it got too far. He was always respectful of that, something you appreciated.

They look at you stunned. You could see their brains working a mile a minute. You could tell they were imagining something much more lewd than reality. Victory.

Desperate for this conversation to be over before they pried and realised you were talking all of your experiences up to be something much more, you stomp out your cigarette. Giving them a small smile that said ‘are we done here?’ as you started to walk away.

Before you can get too far you feel a hand desperately grasp your arm. You know it’s Steve before you even turn around.

You see his mouth open as he struggles to find the right words to say but you don’t want to hear it. You can’t.

“Don’t,” you interrupt, before he can even say a single word. His mouth closes as his hand reluctantly lets go of your arm, brushing the skin of your forearm as he drops his hand. You curse your body for the goosebumps that appear along the trail of his fingertips.

You’re about to turn around again when you decide to ask them just one thing. Something that’s been weighing heavy on you since you first saw them at the bar.

“So, um,” you start tentatively, rubbing your hand over the arm that Steve had just touched, unsure if you’re trying to warm yourself up or wipe away the memory of his fingertips, “how long have you been dating?”

They share a look before Eddie slowly mumbles, “a little over a year.”

A little over a year.

The same amount of time since your fight. The guilty looks on their faces let you know it was very shortly after they broke your heart. So while you were alone, completely breaking and having to put yourself back together again all by yourself, they were just having the time of their lives? Starting a new and exciting relationship? Typical.

“Of course you have been,” you scoff. Turning abruptly and stalking away from them as fast as your stupidly uncomfortable heels would let you.

“Y/n wait! It’s not like tha–“ Steve calls after you, desperately trying to catch you before you run off once again. Like he’s worried this time you’ll be gone for good.

“Just leave me alone!” You practically yell. You feel bad for raising your voice and how it makes them flinch but finally, they let you go.

*****

Taglist: @pxrxcxa @eddiemunsonfuxks @translatemunson @bandofoxxking @munsonsbaby @corrodedhawkins @chainsawmunson @divinelyruled @parkermunson @bimbobaggins69 @eddiemunsonspantschain @hammity-hammer

*******

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heartsforhavik · 4 months

Note

yandere kung lao I’m begginf,,,,

self aware! yandere kung lao x reader pt.1

warnings: mk1 story mode spoilers, obsessiveness, gender neutral reader, ooc kung lao, self aware kung lao

summary: kung lao is aware he is in a video game, and he just loves you so much. he just wishes he didn’t have to be behind a screen.

a/n: anon im so sorry it took me a bit to get to this, anyways i decided to mix it up and make kung lao self aware bc i thought my yandere hcs were getting too repetitive and i am also a diehard SAGAU fan. (also sorry for my mini break, finals week is crazy man.)

part 2

- kung lao *hated* being stuck behind a screen. behind a stupid wall. away from you.

- you were just a regular mortal kombat fan. when mortal kombat 1 was announced, you were just so excited to get your hands on the game.

- you watched playthroughs before you could buy the game, and you were so happy when you found out that you could play as kung lao in the first chapter of story mode.

- when you got your hands on the game, you noticed that every time he had a funny one-liner in the story mode, he would look at the camera and wink. that’s weird… he didn’t do that in the playthroughs you watched… but oh well, it’s probably nothing.

- in the final battle you even chose to play as kung lao out of all the fighters. he was surprisingly easy to use, and his moves seemed to hit even harder than usual and the fights would be over in a blink of an eye. maybe he was buffed just for the fights?

- and when you finished the story mode and checked out all the skins and rewards you got, you noticed that you somehow had all of kung lao’s stuff unlocked. all of his palettes, skins, brutalities, etc. everything. you owned all of it. even the ones that weren’t out yet.

- you thought it was just a glitch, so you shut your device down and restarted it. but when you opened it again, his stuff was still there.

- and it got even weirder. when you tried to practice, the game only let you use kung lao. for some reason, you couldn’t use any other fighter. you couldn’t even use any kameo other than kung lao.

- he was still your favorite character and all, but that was weird. you tried to exit out of the game and restart it again, but it wouldn’t shut down. the game stayed on. it was frozen on kung lao. and he seemed to just stare at you. as if he knew you were there.

- you were starting to get creeped out, so you completely powered off your device and decided to leave it disconnected overnight.

- but over that little period of time, even though it was only a few hours to you, it felt like an eternity for kung lao.

- he felt hurt. a bit betrayed, even. did you not like him anymore? was he not enough for you? he gave you everything he could. he did everything he could to show his love for you, since he cannot communicate any other way.

- without you playing the game, he felt nothing. he couldn’t feel your warmth. it was nothing but a cold, dark space. he needed you. he needed you to always be with him. even if he couldn’t communicate with you, he’d figure something out.

- that’s why he was changing the coding of the game. he had to always be on your screen, or at least give you hints that he was self aware. he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you weren’t looking at him. if you weren’t using him all the time.

- what do you mean you want to main johnny cage? or raiden? or even syzoth? what do they have that kung lao doesn’t?

- you liked the powerful fighters? no worries, he can just nerf everyone else and completely manipulate the coding of the game so he has the best damage.

- you thought the other fighters were more attractive than him? he’ll change the game so their designs were ruined and less pleasing to your eye.

- he would mend himself to your liking. he just needed you to use him. please make him feel important and useful. make him feel worthy of being your main. your favorite.

- if anyone became your favorite instead of him, he would go ballistic. he would rethink his entire existence. he’s so strong, and funny, and easy to use. so why would you choose anyone else? what’s wrong with him? is he not enough for you?

- if kung lao found out you wanted to start using a different fighter, he would erase them from the game. they would be nowhere to be found. their image in the game would be warped into a bunch of blurry pixels.

- if he has to erase the entire kast of fighters, he will. he needs your love. he needs your attention. if he isn’t your favorite, then what is the point of his existence in the game?

- kung lao needs you. and you need him too. why can’t you see that? he’s done everything he could to gain your approval. he was already so great, but he changed himself for you. accept him. please.

- the last thing he would resort to is bringing you in the game with him. what better way to stay by your side, than force you into the world of mortal kombat?

- at first, he didn’t exactly like the thought of taking away your freedom, but the more he thought about it the more he craved your company. why stay behind your screen when he can just bring you with him? now, you don’t have to turn your device on and off! he’s not going anywhere. and you aren’t either.

#mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #yandere mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #kung lao #kung lao x reader #yandere kung lao #yandere x reader #im back baby #yandere raiden next perhaps

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magics-neptunes-things · 7 months

Text

Secret Love

Hey guys!

I watched Alexia’s report today and it made me want to write for her.

For context, this story takes place during the 2023 World Cup in Australia.

Mentionning of smut, jealousy and insecurities.

Enjoy ♥

Edit : Part 2 is HERE

____________________________________________________________

"What's happening?"

You remain frozen in the frame of the door, while you were about to enter the cloakroom. A small group, apparently led by Jenni, is around Alexia who has slightly pink cheeks. You frowns, not used to seeing these kinds of scenes in the dressing room. Alexia is more of a not to be bothered type.

"Alexia has a secret girlfriend!" Jenni sings while tickling her best friend’s ribs.

"I do not!" Alexia answers, snaping her hand away.

"Chicas, leave her alone"

You turn around to see Ona tying her boots, signalling your teammates to leave your captain alone, a small smile on her face. Jenni pouts, while Alexia gives a grateful smile to her future FC Barcelona teammate. And you, you go to your locker to change and put your training shirt on.

You didn't turn around when your hear some of them getting out of the room, lost in your thoughts. Preparation for the tournament is hectic, the agreement between the players and some members of the staff is unfortunately not always easy.

"Nice tattoo."

You smile recognizing the voice and a circular glance in the room tells you that you are now alone with your captain. Alexia is talking about the wings on your back, even if you have some others.

"Thanks. It's my girlfriend's favorite too"

You grin before turning around to have a better look of the say girlfriend.

"Your secret girlfriend, who almost get us catch"

"What happened?"

You ask, tenderly pushing a strand of her now light pink hair behind her shoulder. Alexia shruggs while getting closer to you, looking about you.

"That was stupid of me. I just unlocked my phone to show a picture of my cousin’s niece to Jenni and I hadn’t closed our Whatsapp conversation the last time I turned off my screen. Thanks God you changed your name in my contacts list."

You smile at the memory, laying your hands on Alexia’s hips to squeeze her against you. You sigh with ease feeling her skin against yours, savoring this feeling felt too little since your arrival on this side of the globe. One of your hand get on her neck, tenderly caressing the skin revealed by her ponytail.

"I miss you" Alexia whispers against your skin.

Being also part of the FC Barcelona team, it is much easier to find yourself discreetly in the evening. When one is sleeping at the other's appartment, you just need to arrive with a few minutes after her to avoid getting caught. Not living in the same neighborhood, it would be weird to carpool.

"I miss you too" You pouts. "I can't sleep without your hugs"

Alexia smiles, retreating her face to have a better look of you. It was obvious she will sharing her room with Jenni. No one in the team, no one of your friends and almost no one at all knows about you too. Alexia only talked about you two to her mother, during a night of doubts. Your love story wasn't easy at first.

Alexia always put her career ahead of everything else and panicked when she realized that she has no longer control of her feelings. So she made the decision to break up with you, right after you lost to Wolfsburg. Between that and the lost final in Turin, it was probably the worst period of your life.

You could never blame her that said, you had at the time a small inferiority complex that made you constantly wonder how Alexia could even find it interesting to speak to you. So being in a relationship with her was kind of like a daydream. You told Alexia about it at one of your sleepover and she told you you were an idiot. Then she kissed you and you didn’t think about standing up to her. But that feeling stayed.

Then she tore her ACL and you gave up on avoiding her as much as possible. You were there for her and the feelings you always shared were stronger than the rest. But you have decided to remain secret for the time being, despite everything.

"I’d tell you to ask Ona, but I’m not sure I’d appreciate it if I found out you really did"

You smile thinking about your roomate, that you’re getting to know a little more during this tournament. You lean in for a kiss, savoring the sensation of Alexia’s soft lips against yours. You get lost in the embrace, before jumping when you hear footsteps approaching the door quickly. You barely have time to take off from Alexia before Mariona came in.

"Hurry girls, Vilda is in a bad mood"

You nod before taking your jersey, mouthing a "Go" to Alexia.

**********

In the milddle of the common living room, you were playing ping-pong with Ona, Salma, and Aitana. Pairing with Aitana, you were beating the shit of the other duo up, your screams of enthusiasm resounding throughout the room. It doesn’t seem to bother the rest of the team though and you come across Alexia’s amused look several times. She finds herself sitting on a sofa, stuck between Eva and Irene.

"Vamoooooos!" cheers Aitana after you win in the victory point.

She hugs as you smile, before laughing when you see Ona moving away from the table to find refuge in front of the television, alongside Alba. Salma rolls her eyes and smiles, best loser, while Aitana lays a drooling kiss on your cheek.

"Ew" you wince, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. "Back off"

With another laugh Aitana goes to Salma and your gaze instinctively goes back to Alexia. This is not new, it has the same effect as a magnet on you. She looks at you too, but this time her face seems stoic, deserted by the fun that was on it until now.

You frowns, asking her if everything's fine remotely. But she doesn't answer, before her attention is caught by Irene. And despite your attempts to cross her gaze for the next few minutes, Alexia will never shift her attention to you. As time passes, the feeling of incofort becomes too big and you end up telling that you are tired to escape the room.

Taking your phone out of your jogging pocket, you reach your room by sending a message to Alexia.

You - Is everything's alright?

She didn't answer at first, but you didn’t expect an immediate answer. She is surrounded by your teammates and Jenni having almost caught you the other day, it's obvious that she will be careful. But, when you are showered, changed and Ona joined you in the room, you still have no answer.

You - Alexia?

You hesitated a long time before sending the second message, not wanting to seem too sticky. But your heart rate is too high, showing your concern.

"You're alright Cariño?"

Ona's voice makes you jump and mumble a "Madre mios" before answering.

"I didn't know you weren't sleeping, sorry if I wake you up"

"You didn't. But you didn't answer my question either."

You shrugs, biting your lips. But you couldn't answer. Small one because you're a bad liar and small two because Ona already seems to know the answer.

"You didn't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but just know that I'm here if you need to"

You smile this time, feeling an rush of (friendly) affection towards the Catalan.

"Gracias Ona."

**********

You wake up a little later, a look on the alarm clock informing you that it's only 3 in the morning. You glance at Ona who seems deeply asleep, her chest rising and falling at regular intervals. You turn around in your bed and a few seconds later a light makes you open your eyes. It’s the screen on your phone, and you grab it and see that you got a message from Alexia. Three, actually.

Mi Reina ♥ - I'm sorry, can we talk ?

Mi Reina ♥ - Please?

Mi Reina ♥ - I'm at your door

If the first two messages are about an hour old, the last one is only a few seconds old. Frowning, you get up from your bed and join the door most discreetly. After taking one last look at Ona, you open the door, swearing inwardly when you hear it squeak. And in spite of yourself, you can’t help but let go of a cry of surprise when you feel that a hand takes hold of your arm to draw you further down the corridor.

"Shh!"

Before you know what’s really going on, you find yourself in a room used as a maid’s storeroom, obviously recognizing the silhouette of your girlfriend despite the darkness. And you just have time to see her honey eyes sparkling in the dark before you feel her body crashing against yours, her lips kissing yours with a hungerness you’ve never known her until now.

You need two seconds before answering her kiss, moaning when she bits you lips and leave them to alternate kissing and biting along your neck.

"Alexia... No marks" you stutter, feeling her sucking a sensitive spot in your neck.

"Why? You are mine." she growls

She sucks harder and you have to bite your lip to stay silent.

**********

"What was that about?"

You look at her, catching your breath after a long, intense and busy time. Your eyes having adapted to the brightness, you have no trouble to realize that if she takes time to answer it is only because she seeks her words. So you don’t press it, more than happy to find a box to sit on. After a few more seconds, you finally reach out to her so that she settles by your side.

"Alexia don't mess with your head. It's me, talk to me"

She sights, answering without looking at you.

"Imaybewasjealous"

"I'm sorry, what?" you laugh, leaning to her.

"I was jealous, ok? At first you were having fun and I didn't mind, I was happy because I have a real reason to looked at you. But after she kissed you and I don't know something snapped in my brain"

You are so surprised by her monologue, said in an increasingly fast and annoyed tone that it takes you a few seconds to answer.

"Are you talking about the kiss slash dog-licking Aitana gave me after our ping-pong match?" you ask, completely amazed.

"But I should be the only one allowed licking your face" Alexia wines and you can't help but laugh.

Alexia bites her lip so as not to mix her laughter with yours, but cannot mask her smile.

"You don't have to be jealous of anyone bebita" you say after you resume breathing, making Alexia smile with the surname she loves the most. "I only have eyes for you"

She's still smiling but didn't answer. Only with that you can understand that there is something else.

"Alexia talk to me"

She looks at you and take you by the hand to draw you to her knees. You let yourself obviously, too happy to find yourself in her arms even if what happened between you a few minutes ago was the most intense. You never get tired of the moments of tenderness she offers you.

"I think I’m getting tired of having to hide our relationship. I know the decision not to talk about it came largely from me, but we’ve been together for more than a year. But I'm scared of what people will say about us. I'm scared they destroy us."

"Nobody can destroy us, not even ourselves when we tried"

Alexia smiles again and stroke your cheek with his nose before talking.

"You know what? If we win the final, I’m ready to shout from the rooftops that I’m crazy about you."

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

Hey love! if you're still accepting requests, could I get an extremely wild, rough and feral nsfw Daemon x wife fem!reader please? (feel free to ignore and sorry if the request is weird, but I'm thirsty for this handsome fictional man who unfortunately doesn't exist)

Frost Bite

Daemon Targayen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You were travelling back to home soil in anticipation of your wolf's heat cycle. Besides the fact that you could not stand the sound of your prince husband's breathing and the fact you were certain he would perish in the cold, there was one more reason why you did not want him to join you: the fact the heat was affecting you too.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Basically PWP, 5k+ SMUT T_T (non-con [daemon touches her while she's asleep], virgin!reader, she cries for various reasons, fingering, choking, biting, degradation kink, corruption kink, spitting, marking, edging, oral [fem receiving], breeding kink, cream pie), RIP feminism, opens with a wet dream, brief mentions of near death experience in a snow storm, dark!daemon (but imo its just canon daemon) fem!reader, wife!Reader, soft!daemon, typos, etc.

A/N: YEAH MINORS DNI. LOL SO I was planning to write this for my part 2 of my Stark!Reader, but i got lazy and didn't want to create a whole plot leading up to the smut, so i removed it all together, which I guess worked out swell for you nonnie, since I was planning something absolutely unhinged. I hope you liked that fic of mine since you're basically getting a p3 of it So here's part 1, here's part 2, but you don't need to read any of them to understand, but i suggest you do for background cos lol this is PWP T_T Next part ig but its a blurb "✨Magic✨" OMG NEXT PART BUT ITS NOT A BLURB "Moon Cycle" Also nonnie, i wanted to tell you albeit asking for smut is pretty awkward HAHAHAH you gotta process these feelings somehow you know. i mean, we could have been criminals, like Daemon, instead but we're not, and that's what matters (unless you are a criminal in which case im closing my eyes) this gif of him is so large on pc but idc he's so hot MATT I WANT YOU SO BAD FUCK OFF if someone snitches to big brother again like in In Your Defense /: Idk if you want to be, but I'm tagging everyone I tagged in the previous fic, as well as the others that commented there SO HI THIS IS SMUT YOU CAN GO IF YOU WANT LOL HAHHAH @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda @moonmaiden1996 @thatmysteriousblog

I caught him. I caught him doing the very thing I dreaded to catch him do. The one thing I accused him of doing every night, though in my heart of hearts I wished he did not... not that I would ever admit it to his face. Because why would I? Admitting it would mean- "You want me," Daemon heaved against the neck of the woman beneath him. He cranes his neck up as he thrust into her, smirking, eyes dark, "you want this to be you," he pants as he stares at me, "don't you?" I am in my place, frozen, watching and hearing the woman come undone underneath my husband who kisses her tenderly. "Daemon," I whimper helplessly, teary eyed, "Daemon please." "Fuck off."

I jolt awake, sweat sheening my neck and chest. I turn to my bed, empty, because though Daemon insisted we sleep together and I could not fight him in his decision, he did not return to me until nigh dawn.

I wipe my face as I recall my intensifying dreams.

It seems my travels up North would come quicker than anticipated.

And as much as I wanted to tell him I told you so, oh to all the gods, how badly he deserved it, there was no time for me to gloat when Daemon did the very thing I warned him not to, fall into the icy river.

It was instantaneous. The cracking of the ice, the splashing of water, the scream that escaped me. Maybe I should have left him in the cave we kept Caraxes, who he insisted on bringing. But then again he would have insisted on joining me to the cabin, the way he insisted on joining me here up North in the first place.

And now I had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

It was sheer miracle that I got him out of the river without falling into it myself, sheer stupidity of me to rid him of his coat and offer him mine when the blistering snow storm was not relenting, and quite clearly the sheer will of the gods that both of us made it to the cabin... barely.

The moment we walked in, I shut the door and scrambled towards the fireplace. As my fingers shivered, I thought of Havoc, and how at least I know she would find mine and Daemon's corpses if ever we do not make it. I had sent her away when the storm came out of nowhere because we had to find cover for Caraxes, and she would not have been any of help to us if she were here with us anyway.

My poor pup. She would be heartbroken if she saw me frozen. And Caraxes...

I curse the flint, I curse the cold, I curse the gods, and I curse Daemon for every time I failed to light a fire. I thanked the Stranger for finally allowing me the mercy of my eventual success.

Once the fire was burning steady, I get on my feet and run to Daemon, hauling him over to the fire roughly in haste where he helpelessly kneels in front of. He could do nothing but shiver as I scramble to get some dry clothes and sheets for the both of us.

I yank him closer to the fire and begin to undress him.

Seeing as he is nothing but docile to my actions and how his skin was turning grey, I began to grow frantic, "you cannot fucking die, you prick!"

I rip his top off and quickly clothe him, "I did not go through all the trouble of marrying you for nothing. I refuse to be forced into another marriage because your stupid ass froze to death."

Daemon's shudder comes out in a thick condensation.

"Fuck," I whimper, as I struggle to get him out of his boots and breeches.

I shrivel up at the feel of his frozen fingers then brush against my arm and I shake my head rapidly, realizing there was no choice. The only way I can warm him quickly enough is if I share my own.

I strip him naked, pulling off the shirt I struggled to put on him as well, then wrap him in a fur blanket in the meantime. I then take off my own clothes and hiss at the nipping cold.

The fact Daemon does not even look at my naked form strikes a chord in me.

I straighten him up and fix the blankets on his legs and thighs before I sit on his lap. I press my bare chest against his and whimper at his dangerously concerning coldness.

He shivers against me as his face rests helplessly on my shoulder. His breath that hits my skin is not even hot.

"Remember, you're too fucking stubborn to die," I say as I wrap my legs around his torso and graciously place his fingers beneath my bottom.

His lack of warmth literally brings tears to my eyes.

I reach out for the other blanket and wrap it over myself, consequently Daemon, before I wrap my arms around him and breathe hotly against his face.

I rub his back, "will you allow irony to take you? The hot blooded prince defeated by the cold?"

He releases a shiver and moves his head. He mutters something, but his quaking body does not allow me to make sense of it.

"Do not waste your energy," I chide.

And so for a long moment, we stay like this, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing each other's heat. I do my best to warm him. I even nuzzle against him, the way Havoc did me, just so I could warm his stupid face.

Daemon finally finds it in him to lean against my touch, and when he does, he mutters under his breath, "irony-" shudder, "-would be if the- N-Northern princ-ces-s-ss died in the cold."

My face contorts and yet I cannot help but chuckle at him, glad he can sputter his nonsense again, "then I should make Caraxes burn you for your stupidity."

I shiver when I feel his icy lips kiss my neck. Goosebumps form on my skin when I feel the hot breath that follows. My hands rake up to his nape, where I then dig my fingers as I pull away.

"N-n-nno!" he stutters, hands coming around my hips to brace me tightly, "I ss-swear I'm not warm yet-t-t."

I pull back again though to face him when I said, "I only wanted to tell you," I lean my forehead against his face, "I fucking told you so, you stupid idiot."

I rest my face on his shoulder and close my eyes, knowing I would not be off him any time soon.

I dream about him. I dream about kissing his shivers away. I dream about pulling the fur blanket that separated our legs away, and riding him until he was warm.

I dream about how good he feels, and how he burns inside me. I dream about calling his name, unlike how I did in my other dreams. I was no longer calling out in betrayal, I was calling out in pleasure.

Daemon.

"Daemon," I trail off in a groan, willing my heavy eyelids open. I feel pressure building up inside me before I understand what's happening.

I not know how, but I am laid on a bed, head on a pillow, form still naked. Daemon is sat up beside me, peering down at me and his hands.

I whine.

His fingers-

"Oh fucking hell," he groans as his other hand begins to knead at my breasts, "you feels so good wrapped around my fingers, I-"

I cut him off with my squeak, hands flying to his arm, thighs closing shut, squeezing this hand in between my thighs.

"Daemon," the dazed quality of my voice is gone.

He tilts his head, face twisting, a challenge.

When I struggle and wrangle against him, all it takes is his hand on my throat to make me go still. I barely manage a choke and my breath continues to leave me as his fingers quicken their pace inside me.

He only releases me after I shake and shudder when I come.

It is overwhelming and nothing at all like I have dreamed or imagined, unlike all the times I've touched myself in secret. It was intense but there was a shame tied to it.

My entire body is hot and tears prick my eyes at his relentless ministrations.

"You were too fucking ready for that," Daemon mutters dryly as he quickly pulls away and shifts in his spot, "how long have you imagined fucking me, hmm?"

Before I even have the brain to do something, he crawls down the bed, "was it when you caught me touching myself to you?" He sinks down, grabbing my legs, "or have you done it before and withheld me of your sweet cunt for no fucking reason?"

All at once, he brings his face between my legs and begins to lick all the slickness off my pulsing core.

"DAEMON!" I scream, pressing my thighs close as I push myself up on my elbows, trying to break free of him.

He ignores me and forces my legs open even as I kick them in protest, "you will not deny me something you so clearly want yourself."

He grunts and pushes my legs down before grabbing my hands that were shoving him away, "you fucking bitch," he grips me tightly, "you will not find it in yourself to fight me off once I make a whore out of you."

I growl at his words, feeling my stomach drop along with my tears because of it.

I was realizing just how strong he really was, and how in moments where our arguments got a bit physical, he has probably holding back. The revelation of this does not cease my attempts at freeing myself, but it is as pointless as I feared.

Daemon rises up from his spot, nearing me, up until he is breathing against my cheek and rubbing his hardened length against my wetness.

I turn away from him, unable to really do anything else and shudder as he speaks, "you said it yourself, you did not go through all this trouble marrying me for nothing."

I screw my eyes shut, feeling tears fall, "Daemon."

He shushes me, pulling my arms up above my head, "you should not worry. I refuse to die now that I know of your lust."

I whimper as he rolls his hips against me, "still, the idea of someone claiming you- fuck-" he groans gutturally, "had I died..." he trails of in another groan, "someone else would have gotten my prize and it would have been all be your fault."

Daemon squeezes my wrist in one hand then grabs my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. I keep my eyes shut though as he heaves hotly, "I should utterly ruin every part of you so you can never have anyone but me. Though make no mistake, I would never let that happen as I so fucking breathe."

"Hypocrite," I scoff.

He laughs and I tense at the feeling of his vibrations, "she speaks."

I dare to look at him as I pant, "you do not desire me. You're just a spoiled brat who merely wants to wet his cock, just like how you do every night."

"Oh," he groans, "is this jealousy I hear?" He squeezes my cheeks, "is my pretty whore jealous that she is not the only one?"

"Fuck you!" I manage out though muffled.

Daemon laughs at the feel of tears rushing down his fingers, "do not cry, foolish wife. I'll have you know I have not wet my cock ever since I called out your name when I fucked someone else before our wedding day."

He releases my face. I attempt to even out my breath.

"I hadn't even realized until she asked me who-"

"And you think you deserve an award for that?!" I quip through my heavy breathing.

He lets out a laugh that makes me whimper, "I think you ought to know that mine own want for you has made everyone else undesirable," he licks my cheek, making me pull my head away from him, "I have been so pent up in want and for what? Because you're too bull headed to allow me anything other than my lonely hand?"

I try to wrangle out of his grip again, and he presses his whole body on me in response, "it's quite adorable that you still have it in you act like you didn't just call my name out loud while you dreamt of fucking me."

He rubs his nose against my jaw, "you wanna know how I know?"

"Fuck off-"

"You were rutting against me like a hussy," he sighs, "by the gods, had I known you were so wanton at night, I would have never granted you the insult of sleeping alone."

I could feel myself burn hotter with each word that leaves his lips despite myself. I did not want him to catch me like this, but there was no use; I was already caught.

As Daemon rocks his hips on mine, he hisses, undoubtedly feeling how much wetter I had gotten was beneath him.

"Fuck," he trails off, "here's what going to happen," he whispers, rutting against me rougher.

I cannot for the life of me withhold my whimper.

He chuckles as he presses his face against mine, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue and then I'm going to fuck you until you cry."

"Daemon, please stop-"

"Your heartbeat against my cock and how fucking wet you are disagrees with your protest, little liar," he croons. He lifts his head, then leans his forehead against mine, "don't worry, my little virgin, you will not cry because it hurts, you will cry because you'll want it so bad that it hurts."

"Daemon-"

"You will not refuse me," he whispers, though it is anything but sweet, "not when there is not a sliver of doubt in my mind that you want this too."

He brings his hands to my neck again and I wait for his grip to tighten, but it does not, "now say it."

I look up at him as my breathing quickens.

"Yield," he commands, breathing heavily all of a sudden.

I look up at him feeling my belly swirl in ways I could not ever explain.

"Admit to both our ears that you burn for me just as I have been fucking burning for you."

I yelp when he puts pressure on my throat then releases it.

"Say it," he barks.

"I-"

"Say you want me," he says softer this time.

I am disarmed by his quick change in tone and a shiver leaves me as the cold finds its way to my belly as he pulls away. Daemon releases my hands then begins to crawl down. His eyes are fixed on my as he mutters once more, "say it."

I shudder as he presses my thighs against his cheeks then whispers, almost begging, "say it."

I turn away from him and close my eyes, awaiting his next actions, for it was not like I could stop him if I refuse.

"Say it," he urges louder, "you know you want to."

I clench my jaw, "just do what you want and be done with it."

He growls, and goosebumps form on my skin when I feel him bite at the inner most part of my thigh. I grip at the sheets at the feel of teeth and tongue. I bite my lips tightly to keep myself from making any noise.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Daemon mutters.

I yelp and look down at him when his finger strokes my core.

His eyes are dark as he airily chuckles at my reaction, "after all I have given you my name, my Targaryen queen. You are no longer your own, you are forever mine."

I watch him as he lifts his head up and kisses my sopping heat. I flinch when he nips at me, drawing my nub out with his teeth. He lifts his head as he releases my flesh. His chin is glistening with my slick as he says, "I want you."

My breath leaves me when he says this.

"And I know you want me too, but I have to-- I need you to say it." He repositions himself in my thighs, "you are after all married to maniac," he breathes against me, "now, say it."

He shakes my thighs, "SAY IT!"

"I want you," I snap, "Daemon, I-" a loud cry rips out of me before I can even continue.

The sound of him lapping his tongue on me, eating me out as if I was his final meal, was somehow louder than my cries. I cannot help but so violently react to him as he devours me. He forces me still in his grip and fights off the movement of my thighs with his face.

It seems as though my admittance has reduced me into nothing but needy sounds.

Without another thought, my hands reach down at him and dig into his silver hair. I arch my back and pull at him when his tongue flicks into me.

"Fucking slut," he mutters, squeezing my thighs as he pulls me apart.

I scream out his name as he digs his face deeper into me. I lift my head up when he pulls away to laugh, "look at you, rutting against me like the needy whore you are."

I don't have time to find offence in his words because I still, not even realizing I was in fact moving my hips against him. He laughs as he continues his work, leaving me no time to feel embarrassment and only hot pleasure.

He is fucking good at what he does. He's so fucking good that my mind wanders where it should not. How much practice has he gotten to be this good? It is precisely because of this that I finally break, "all for you, Daemon," I grab his cheeks, "all for you-- all mine."

I do not see how his eyes dart up to me for I then throw my head back and whine. I feel myself come close to my undoing, "fuck, Daemon, don't stop."

I shriek when I bites me.

Just as I am inching so close, all at once, he pulls away from me.

I pant and stiffen as I hear and feel him spit on me. Much like all other moments, I do not have time to react. When I turn to him, he grabs my legs and shoves me to my side.

I begin to panic when he rises to his knees.

"I'll be fucking damned if I don't make you come on my cock right now," he grunts, making my eyes drop down to the very thing, erect, hard, and angry.

"Get on your knees, bitch," he blurts, though he doesn't give me much of a chance to as he drags me up into the position he wants me by my hips.

I haven't even propped myself up on my arms yet when he unceremoniously begins to pound into me.

I am certain if anyone could hear us in the middle of this storm, they would think I was mad, or worse, being tortured.

"I'm going to breed that prurient wolf in you, just as I'm sure your wolf, Havoc, is being bred right now."

I growl at the idea and feel my belly tighten at his words.

Daemon groans before he chuckles, "that's it, isn't it?"

His relentless thrusts begin to grow sloppy. Suddenly, he yanks me by my hair and lifts me up. His other hand slaps to my throat to offer painful support as he pulls me up against him.

I choke on my spit when my form presses against him with difficulty. He sinks down on his knees, my core wrapped around his length as he shifts me in a snug position atop him.

His hands make their way to my breasts to roughly grope them. His teeth sink down on my shoulder.

I release a wild sound as my own hands come on top of his. I am left moaning at how his mouth sinks into my skin.

Daemon makes sure to suck hard before pulling away. For a moment he catches his breath before speaking, "you did not want me here because you are affected by your wolf's heat, aren't you."

The way I begin to slowly bounce on top of him is enough of an answer to him.

He laughs as his hands depart from my tender breasts, one going down to my sensitive nub, the other sealing my throat again, "you are a fucking selfish bitch for keeping your cunt from me."

My breathing becomes arduous when he tightens his grip around me.

"You would have preferred to touch yourself to the thought of me?" he questions as he rubs on my sensitive nub.

"Daemon," I gasp, pushing my head back as his lips latch on my neck again.

He ceases the moment of his fingers as he finishes grazing on my skin. "Yes, my pretty whore?" he mutters in between his kisses, "what do you want, hmm?"

My breathing strains when his hand tightens around my throat more. I catch my breath when he releases his grip to push my hair off to the side, "tell me what you want me to do to you."

I call out his name. He calls out mine.

I find myself grabbing his hands as I moan out, "I want you to fuck me."

Without another word, I am thrown down to the bed. The only reason I'm still on him is because of his hands that latch on my hips.

I am nothing against his strength. He handles me like a ragdoll, fucking me with absolutely no regard and nothing else in mind.

I make sounds that mean nothing. His name is polluted by my whimpers and cries that you cannot make head or tail of.

I would not last any longer with how he was handling me, even if I wanted to, even if I tried.

"That's it my easy bitch," he pants, "come around me like the needy whore you are."

"Daemon-"

"Your eager cunt will take my seed well when I fill you up," his one hand leaves my hip and rips my head back by my hair again, "don't you think, pretty wife?"

"Yes," I reply without thinking, "yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"And you will give me your pups," he mutters, "bare my dragons, like a dutiful wife will you not?"

My only response is my body breaking orgasm. I shiver beneath him, falling powerless as I scream his name and crumble, absolutely boneless.

Daemon lets out a string of curses as he milks out my reaction for all he's got.

He does not waver once bit and it maddeningly delicious.

My voice hikes up when I feel him release inside me not too late after.

"Fucking come slut," he barks as he snaps his hips in me, "take it all just like that."

I bury my screams in the cushions he presses on, unrelenting. When he finally does grow sloppy, I take a moment to catch my breath and relish the feel of him.

I whimper when he pulls away and slaps my ass.

"The absolute mess you've made of yourself," he coos, as he rubs the skin he slapped.

I can feel myself leaking, I can feel it all over my legs, on the sheets, and I could practically feel his pleased smile as he watches the lewd display. I could not bring myself to care at all though, not when my legs begin to fall.

I squeak when Daemon rearranges me on the bed. He is not at all as rough as he was with me a while ago, but his strength and my lack thereof does not really allow him to be gentle.

He falls onto the side of the bed next to me and gathers me into his chest. When I roll over to him, I groan at the feeling of my wet thighs pressing together.

"Do not make issue of that," Daemon says as he watches me squirm. He pulls me close to him, arm over my shoulders. His other hand hooks behind my knee, dragging me atop him. I whimper and push my hand on his chest when I feel core empty out on his thigh.

He does not allow me to pull away and I turn to him because of this. Daemon forces me close against him, "are you so haughty over my come that you cannot bare the thought of it-"

"But it's getting everywhere," I start off loudly but end with a whisper.

Daemon's nostrils flare as he shakes his head, "I should sure hope so."

I feel my cheeks burn and so I decide to hide my face in his chest.

His laughter intensifies, and I do not enjoy how my head bounces on his ribcage because of it.

"Oh meekness suits you well, my dear."

I weakly mumble, "fuck off."

His amusement continues as he rubs my arms, "you mean, 'I want you to fuck me, Daemon.' "

"I did not say it like that!" I quip, lifting my head as I turn to him, finally making him cease his stupid laughter. The sight of his stupid smug face still glimmering in slick renders me frozen.

Suddenly I am aware of how cold the room still was.

"Pray tell, how did you say it?" he hums, pushing hair behind my ear.

I furrow my brows and press my cheek on his chest again, admitting lowly, "I didn't say your name at the end."

"My," he draws shapeless figures on my skin, "I'm glad to know the moment is burned in your very being."

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, scratching my eye. It dawns onto me that my face was equally as wet as Daemon's. Heat rises up my face again when I realize I really did cry because of how good he felt.

"Don't fret," he sighs, "there is a reason why you should not worry yourself about how your pretty cunt is leaking blood and come. I shall fuc-"

I turn to him in concern and push myself up.

Daemon furrows his brows and shakes his head, "it is normal," he soothes, grabbing my cheek, "or did you just forget your maidenhood was still intact after imagining fucking me?"

I am suddenly aware how real everything was. My husband has finally gotten me to consummate our marriage and all his talk of me bearing his seed could may well come true. My chest begins to constrict as my mind floods with endless scenarios.

"Well, if you start frowning like that, I might actually feel bad," Daemon mutters, lifting himself up on his elbows, "what's wrong?"

I look at his concerned expression and find myself speaking before I realize, "did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he clarifies quickly.

"That you want me," I quip just as fast.

He stares at me for a moment, as if he was taken aback or measuring the truthfulness in my voice. When a prolonged moment passes between us, he realizes I was serious.

"Fuck," he drops his head back, "it must be exhausting to be a woman with your overthinking."

"Well, pardon me for not-"

"You are pardoned," he blurts, making me whimper when he suddenly flips us over.

I am beneath him again. He does nothing but press his weight on me, but I struggle beneath him, not enjoying the idea of remaining in an uncomfortable position.

He misreads my intentions and hinders me from moving, as he wraps his arms around me, "I just told I want you, that I burn for you, that I want you to mother my children. Do you honestly think I am one to say that to anyone?"

I gulp as he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck, "I..." he breathes against my skin. He does not continue as he opts to kiss my neck instead.

When I move to wrap my own arms around him, he speaks again, "I am at your mercy. You saved me from freezing to death when you could have easily decided to rid of me."

I press my cheek against him and begin to comb through the long hair on his back, "I was serious about my distaste to remarry."

"Well, you will not," he quickly retorts, "you will have me until the end."

I bring my legs around him as I release a sigh, "consider me overjoyed by the thought."

He chuckles as he shifts, "you do not sound-"

"I did not want to admit it," I cut him off, "but I think I..." I turn to him as he lifts his head, "I think I... care for you, Daemon... I-"

"Love you," he finishes, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

And for the first time since our nuptials, he kisses me. He kisses me not because he has to, not for the sake of showing everyone present, but because he wanted to, for the sake of showing me.

He is nothing but warmth, nothing but fire, nothing but him. Daemon is not sweet, but in this moment he put even honey to shame.

He begins to stir on top me, though he makes sure his lips do not leave mine. It is because of my moan that we are broken apart, the moan that leaves me when I feel him slip inside me.

"Daemon-"

"You know how I fuck," he sighs, rubbing his nose against mine, "but now we'll both know how I make love."

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