abysswalkerastraea1

[abysswalkerastraea1]

Ravager, Michael Myers smut

Rough rob zombie Michael

1.7k

Biiiig size kink Michael

Thicc boi

A miasma of copper, sweat and dampness outlined the increasingly growing shadow of darkness that stood adjacent to your wide open cabin door.

What was once a room built to trick the senses into believing that it was the sweltering summer and not, in fact, the blistering cold, now became a place of rapidly growing bitterness from the snow storm that battered the land outside.

The door, so carelessly torn open with little regard, created an unwanted vacuum, siphoning the lulling heat that soothed you to sleep and making way for a chill that would sink into your bones and keep you awake for hours.

And with it, stalking like a black panther ready to strike, the austere and rigid presence of what was surely winter in human form stood as though frozen in the doorway.

Statuesque, the humanoid shape remained blank in every sense of the word. Silence reigned over the rapidly cooling cabin like a suffocating blanket. The raging tempest outside greatly juxtaposed the looming sense of bitter dread inside, and for a moment you peered passed the looming shape and briefly wondered if battling the snow storm outside would increase your chances of survival.

There was a rhythmic dripping of something. A repetitive, deep inhale. Exhale.

Inhale.

Drip.

Exhale.

A glint, reflected in the flickering candles of your cabin.

Crimson decorated your floor, droplets forming a gentle puddle upon the wood. They lingered upon the knifes edge like a faucet that wasn't tightened enough; they belonged.

Your temporary lapse in undivided attention towards the monster in your doorway welcomed the shape to appear suddenly bigger. You did not see him move.

Chills wracked your entire body, clad in typical sleep attire for what once was a cozy cabin - shorts and a very oversized, black t shirt that didn't belong to you. The knitted, pastel pink blanket lay loosely around your shoulders, forgotten.

A false sense of warmth within it would've been useless, anyway.

You braced the cold just like prey suffered the battering winds outside.

The eclipsed figure squeezed the knife handle. The large hand gripped it as though squeezing a fragile neck.

You willed yourself to breathe slowly. You were freezing now, and as the remnants of shock evaporated away with the heat, you stood on uncertain legs, fluffy, mismatched purple and pink socks hanging limply from their original place upon your feet and making them appear bigger than usual.

Your protection from the chilly air dropped unceremoniously to the cozy, pillowed chairs you had occupied. Your blanket lay in a heap, alongside your confidence.

Your hands gripped your arms as a light shiver passed through you. You faced the enormous shadow, cocked your head to perhaps visualise him better.

With the movement, your loose, messy bun tumbled to the side, overhanging your shoulder alongside the loose t shirt which, during your brief slumber, seemed to rearrange itself and hang on one side more than the other, baring a black bra strap over your shoulder.

The shape remained eerily frigid.

Foolishly to most but caringly in your own mind, you hesitantly stepped around your comfortable furniture and into the small passage that led to your open door.

There was a mere few feet of distance now, and at each gentle footstep in advancement, the shape grew bigger, the shadow began to swallow you.

Drip.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Your searching eyes flickered down to the mess gathering at your floor, blood, mud and melting snow smearing the wood in an ugly amalgamation of discoloured sludge.

That stark white, void mask stared through you, through the house even, beyond-

The shapes fingers flexed around the knife handle.

You were entering the territory of an unfathomable force, and your hand squeezed anxiously around your arm. You were shaking now, unable to bear the bitterness of the outside weather and-

"Michael?" You whispered, peering passed him at the violent storm. You allowed the severity of it to take the place of your anxiety, lashing about inside you just like the sleet lashed at the roof, and willed yourself to calm and restrain that almost uncontainable energy.

The shape slowly morphed from looming shadow to the significant, terrifying mold that resembled a man capable of heinous, brutal things.

His shoulder width swallowed you whole, alongside the proportionate, defined muscles of his arms that were outlined by the crimson stained coveralls.

You sidestepped the murderous presence dominating your small home, fearing that it was either him or the bitter cold that would take you. Padding lightly over to the door, you shut it tightly with relief and locked it securely.

Ironic, considering a locked door was typically meant for keeping everything unsafe out; meanwhile, the epitome of evil stood behind you. 

Your skin was bathed in a discomforting blanket of cold. Yet the only cause for your goosebumps was at the silence, the lack of breathing. 

You didnt turn around. Trembling lightly, your hands busied themselves with brushing stray dust particles of snow that had blown in and stuck to your door. 

''You must be freezing.'' 

Drip.

You rubbed at your arms, peering through the textured glass of the door. 

And then you felt it, though far too late.

A bone chilling iciness that even the storm outside couldn't induce. A sudden dampness dripping along your back. A domineering presence lurking horrifically out of sight, but very much within terrifying distance.

Breath fogging up your window, eyes wide with fear and anticipation, you trembled.

If there was anybody outside - there wasn't - the last remnant they'd see of you is the way your head suddenly wrenched backwards, hair bunched up in a bloodied fist as your body was dragged into darkness.

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

It was too much, you thought dazedly, mouth hung open in a squeal of pain and pleasure. Your breasts felt bruised against the hard floor, head forced into the damp and bloodied carpet as the beast behind you forced your back to bow and your ass to jiggle with every sharp thrust. 

It was too much, but it was so-

You gasped, fisting the carpet for a desperate grip on reality. Your hair had fallen loose the moment he had forced you to the ground, now gripped in a strong, veined hand that wrenched your head back in the most painful way, making you cry out, and yet the heat between your legs only grew and festered into something unbearable.

You were being filled beyond belief, a rhythmic in and out thrust that felt all consuming, so good, so deep, unrelenting in its pace even as its force pushed you along the floor.

"Michael--", you whined, knuckles white from fisting the carpet and knees shaking, "Oh--, Oh--"

You felt mindless, only focusing on the thick girth of him stretching you open and sinking into you. You felt his large hands at your hips, squealing when he suddenly flipped you onto your back, the thickness of his waist spreading your legs wide as he bruisingly gripped each leg to hoist over his shoulders.

Your face was crimson, eyes sparkling with tears as you watched, mouth agape as his hot length sunk into your quivering heat once more, fully on display for you to see. Your head fell back upon the floor, eyes lidded and hazed as the devil above you took you with vigor, fucking into you like an animal, spreading your legs wide and pinned down as though he was going to breed you.

The thought excited you, and you were no longer able to control yourself as you gripped desperately at his muscular forearms that held terrifying strength and cried out for him. "Yes, yes--", you keened, head lolling to the side, "Take me--", you begged, voice pitching in height.

That ghastly mask stared down at you silently, though through it's eyes you could see the pitch blackness of the devils. Blonde hair peeked out from the neck of the mask, it's length reaching his shoulders, and the wearer himself had a neck that was thick and wide and veined as though his jaw was clenching viciously beneath.

This was so wrong, you thought, so so deviously wrong but you could barely resist when the beast above you was so mouth wateringly big and wide and so fucking strong-

"Ah!", you cried, legs spread wide and knees touching the floor by your head. He had you fully exposed, witnessing the girthy cock fucking you open and your wetness seeping down your thighs messily.

"Michael--", you began head falling back against the floor and mouth hung open. Two of his thick fingers plunged into your mouth, eyes wide and terrifying behind the mask, and despite this terror above you, your own eyes became half lidded as you sucked his fingers dirtily, moaning and whining around them and crying out as your pussy began spasming with your orgasm, pulsating and squeezing his hot length.

You could feel him pulsing erratically inside you, his cock rock hard and weeping with the need to cum, his breathing uneven as a low, dark growl seemed to emit from somewhere within him.

His hips snapped into yours roughly, your tits jiggling and legs wrapping tightly around his thick torso. "Oh, oh-" you couldn't contain yourself, whimpering obscenely but loving it all so much.

His balls were heavy, slapping your ass and tensing. You just wanted him to empty them so hard into you it was driving you crazy.

Tears were dripping down your face, makeup smudged and cascading down your cheeks as he ripped his fingers out of your mouth and moved them lower to spread your puffy labia open around his dick.

The sounds were lewd, squelching and wet, and it seemed to spur him on even more as his hips stuttered, muscular abdomen tensing before thick ropes of cum spilled into you messily.

It filled you up, seeping out and around his cock and down your cheeks. Your thighs were quivering in his hands, unable to stop shaking, before he dropped them roughly and pulled out of you.

You laid upon the floor a mess, legs wide and panting. The shape stood, staring down at you silently. Gripping his knife, he gave you one last long look before departing out into the terrifying weather.

You knew he'd be back, and you knew you'd better be ready for him to have his way with you.

#michael myers #michael myers smut #rob zombie Michael myers #killer smut #serial killer

[abysswalkerastraea1]

i can’t decide who’s more of a “hand over mouth as i pound you in the back seat of my car so no one knows i’m fucking the loud mouth cheerleader” is that more eddie or steve 🤔

gotta be eddie dude, steve's more of a "kiss you to shut you up" type, but allow me to elaborate on the first for a moment (and by a moment I mean nearly over 1.5k words)

(warnings: smut obv, blood mention, drug use mention, hair pulling, overstimulation, crying during sex/dacryphilia, breath play, extremely vague/not serious breeding kink)

[part 2 here]

"Shh, shh," he soothed, though you could hear the wide grin curling his lips, "don't want anyone to hear, now do we?"

Honestly, though, this was your attempt to stay quiet— digging your teeth into your lip so hard you tasted metallic, gripping the faded leather seats until your nails nearly tore through them. It wasn't your fault that it felt so good, that the weed had made your head all spinny and your insides all tingly and that his dick was slamming right into that spot that made your toes curl. No, that was all his fault; he gave you the joint and he promised it would 'awaken your senses', even if maybe neither of you anticipated exactly which senses it would awaken.

"Don't want anyone shining a light in here, right?" he continued, even though you could barely keep track of what he was talking about. "Don't want them seeing you on your hands and knees getting fucked and screaming like it's the best thing you've ever had, hm?"

"F-fuck, Eddie," you winced, gasping loudly when he tugged on your cheerleader-uniform-mandated ponytail. You breathed through your teeth, wishing you had the strength to tell him not to be so rough, not to fuck you like this... like a whore. But god, this is exactly what you wanted from him, if you were being honest, even if you hated yourself just a bit for liking it so much— for needing it. He dug his fingers into the hair at your scalp, surely ruining your half an hour of styling efforts from earlier tonight, and pushed your head back down against the seats; god, he was really rubbing it in, huh? You almost thought he'd be grateful, that he'd be delicate and careful with you because, well, the opportunity to fuck a cheerleader does not come by for a guy like him. But no, he was putting you in your place, and you were biting your lip to keep from begging him for more.

His free hand held your hips and suddenly his pace changed-- from hasty and rushed to slow but hard, slamming into you and knocking you forward with a loud groan. He did it again, and again, and you cried out louder with each thrust right into the deepest parts of you. "Oh, sweetie," he cooed condescendingly, "are you having trouble keeping quiet? I'll help you, babe— m'gonna shut you up, don't worry—"

He spoke so roughly that he sounded furious, leaning down over you to press his lips up to your ear, and suddenly the hand in your hair slipped around and covered your mouth. He gave you another one, so deep your eyes rolled back in your head, and you finally let it all out— it was muffled behind his hand, anyway, and it felt good to moan as loud as you wanted without it being actually as loud as it would be otherwise.

You weren't quite sure what to think: he was fucking you rather disrespectfully, but the intensity of it, the way he groaned deeply into your ear and mumbled little praises under his breath, the way he held your waist tighter and tighter— you could almost call it passionate, if you didn't know any better. Sure, not exactly sweet, but it could be worse.

Well, actually, it couldn't be better. It was perfect. It was Eddie fucking Munson, and you couldn't quite wrap your head around that yet, but you didn't need to because it felt goddamn perfect.

"Good girl, fuck, goooood fuckin' girl," he hissed into your ear. "Oh, you're still so loud, even with my hand on your mouth— need some more help, babe?"

He squeezed your nose shut with his thumb and the side of his finger, and suddenly you had no air at all; you didn't even care, you didn't need air anymore, you just needed this. It made the numbness that much better, made your eyes well with tears and your throat burn but you wanted more more more— you wanted everything.

"Ohh, fuck, are you coming?" he laughed proudly, fucking you faster right as it hit you. You hadn't even noticed until he said it, but, yep, you were clenching inside and your back was arching deeper and you felt the tears keep flowing over his hand. "Oh my god, that's good— you're so fuckin' tight, Jesus..."

It just kept getting bigger and bigger, it kept twisting in your core and you weren't sure how much more you could take. He let go of your nose and you took a deep breath in, hearing the most deranged noise break out of your throat and peter out in your mouth with his hand keeping it inside. You were crying out his name, at least you were trying to, but it was all just incomprehensible sobs muffled under that thick, clammy hand with the gaudy silver rings that you could taste on your lips.

God, was it ever gonna stop? This feeling, this light show on the back of your eyes, this whole-body spasm that danced under your skin— was it gonna let you go back down to Earth any time soon? Or was this just your new normal, was this just some other state of existence that Eddie had knocked you face-first into, with no plan to rescue you?

It was too much, it was far too much, but you could already see yourself tomorrow morning, staring at the phone, trying to decide how long to wait until coming back for more.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged you, "scream for me, just like that— nobody's gonna hear you, promise."

He couldn't promise that, but he didn't need to. He could fuck you in front of whoever he wanted if it was always gonna be like this; he could fuck you in front of your grandmother and you wouldn't stop him— you were whipped. Like, whipped whipped. Like, 'pearls and heels making a roast dinner if he asks me to' whipped. Like, 'we are so doing this again' whipped.

You heard him gasp, a sound almost like a wince or a cry, almost like it hurt— and you could relate to that right now, certainly. "Fuck!" he grunted. "M'close, I'm so close, babe..."

You were way too proud of that; it wasn't much of an accomplishment or anything, you heard that guys come pretty easy and in your experience so far it was mostly true. But you felt good, you liked knowing he was going to come because of you, you liked hearing that composure falter for even just a second— and, if nothing else, you were looking forward to taking a fucking breather, because you needed it.

"God, no fuckin' way I'm pulling out," he laughed thinly, "s'too good, babe— I'm gonna come inside, you ready, honey?"

You nodded, as best you could, and heard his own moans get higher in pitch slowly until they stopped all at once and you felt it, warmth filling you and just slightly soothing the ache inside you. He gave you a few shallow thrusts, sudden and seemingly involuntarily like a twitch, and dropped his hand from your mouth with a sigh. You gasped, hearing the hint of a moan on each of your breaths even though it was over now; he pulled out and fell back on the seats dramatically, resting his hand on his forehead like a maiden in an old-timey movie about to faint. You couldn't help but giggle, impressed that he could keep up his theatrics at a time like this.

"Oh, shit," he whimpered, "you really took it all out of me. Literally. Jesus. Y-you're on the pill, though, right? Cause I can buy you something—"

"S'fine," you croaked, clearing your throat when you heard how broken your voice sounded. "Yeah, don't worry about it."

"'Don't worry about it,' she says," he narrated while he raised an eyebrow, "yeah, that's not ominous at all— nine months later you're knockin' on my trailer door with your curly-headed new mini-me and a whole lot of questions—"

"Shut up," you laughed, rolling your eyes. You adjusted your panties to hopefully catch some of the mess before you left a puddle on the seats, then pulled your uniform skirt back down and finally leaned back with a long sigh. The radio was on— you forgot about that— and you heard Black Sabbath mixing in with the sounds of Eddie's belt jingling while he got himself back into his jeans.

"Our babies would be cute, though," he grinned.

"Okay, actually shut up," you frowned, smacking him on the thigh. "I should go— the team's probably wondering where I am—"

"Oh, no no no," he chided, "you're not getting away that easy."

He yanked you down quickly and wrapped his arms around you.

"You owe me at least three minutes of cuddling," he demanded.

"Eddie, I—"

He grabbed your head and pulled it down into his chest, stroking your thoroughly-mussed hair. "Shh, shh," he interrupted you, "get comfy, I'm not letting you leave for a while— feel free to fall asleep, whatever, it'll be cute."

"This is so not how I thought this was gonna go tonight," you grumbled.

"What, you thought we'd smoke up and call it a night?" he wondered. "So did I, but you were givin' me those eyes—"

"No, I mean— what?!" you squawked. "Eyes?! I was not giving you eyes."

"Uh, yes you were, missy!" he insisted. "You were all, Eddie, make love to me, I need you," he imitated a smoky-sensual voice.

"That's what you call 'making love'?" you snorted. "I'd hate to see you fucking. Gonna put a girl in the ICU."

"Oh, babe," he grinned, looking down at you, and you looked up at him from his shoulder expectantly, "I'm just getting started."

(part 2)

[abysswalkerastraea1]

Eddie Munson x Ovulating reader 👀

Eddie knew you well by now, you had been together long enough. He knew that when you were ovulating and sexually frustrated, you became so bratty and whiny.

He knew just how to put you in your place. Even if that meant his friends hearing it.

Needy ovulating bitch

Rough

Size kink

2000 words

Lechery

You had been with Eddie for six years. And after that many years, Eddie felt like he could confidently tell when you had needs and how to correctly tend to them.

And right now, Eddie believed he knew just how to tend to your bratty, fed up and restless mood.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You were drooling, mouth agape and face in the bed with your eyes lidded and knees shaking at the feeling of Eddie thrusting languidly in and out of you, pulling out to the tip and teasing you before sinking back in deeply in one thrust, forcing the air out of you alongside a desperate whine.

"Oh-- Oh--!", you cried, fisting the sheets below you and quivering, face growing a deep shade of red as the man behind you chuckled and shushed you, leaning forward to hold a ringed hand over your lips.

"Can't let them hear you, babe." He chastised, the weight of him leaning forward to whisper into your ear pushing you into the bed more, his bulk pinning you down and you loved it--

" 'm sorry, I'll try to be quiet but I--" you bit your lip, mesmerised at the feeling of him sinking in so hard only to pull out fully to repeat it again. It sent every nerve inside you on fire, having been so empty to so full in seconds.

His hand gripped at your jaw from behind, holding it firmly as he slid so easily into you with no resistance. Your eyes fluttered shut, body so hot, your insides quivering.

"But what? Does it feel good?", Eddie teased, chuckling into your ear and it made you feel so embarrassed and over heated and aroused and you didn't know why-

You nodded quickly, head soon dropping fully to the pillow alongside your upper body, your ass high in the air as your knees quaked. Eddie gripped your hips and sunk in faster, creating a pace that didn't tease you anymore.

It had you whining into the pillow, pushing your ass back desperately for more, you needed him faster, harder, fucking deeper--

It was driving you crazy, your mind a haze of lust as the rhythmic slapping of wetness permeated the room. "Eddie please, need so much more--"

Eddie smirked down at you; he knew this. Knew that whenever you were ovulating you became a mess, an aggravated brat that seemed a tad more aggressive due to wanting to be fucked and put in her place. Sometimes he thought you didn't even suspect this, didn't realise what you yourself were doing, or perhaps didn't realise your desires.

To him it was as clear as day. You became so sexually frustrated during this time and he found the only way to cure this was to absolutely ravage you.

"Want me to fuck you hard, is that it? Want me to fuck the bitchiness out of you?" He spoke sardonically down at you, gripping a fistful of your hair before he snapped his hips forward and fucked into you roughly. The force of his thrust sent your thighs shaking and collapsing until you laid fully on your front.

This new position had your insides pulsing with pleasure, his thick length pushing between your plush ass cheeks and sinking into your sodden hole seemingly even deeper. You lost all control of your voice as you cried out and moaned out loud, writhing and trying hard to push your pussy onto his addictive cock for more, you needed more, needed to be stuffed and bred and--

Eddie's large body swallowed your own, now pressed onto you as his arms were wrapped over your own and a hand slapped firmly over your mouth once more.

Before he could even reprimand you, he grinned at the way your muffled voice cried out for more, begged to be fucked full of him. He loved it when you got to the point of being so fucked out, your tongue would loosen and you'd admit every single thing you wanted.

You could feel him pulsing inside you, cock so engorged it slightly hurt in this position, and you felt mortified at the tears that slid down your cheeks at feeling him stop his movements to whisper something into your ear.

"Fuck, look at you", he sounded in awe, "so wet. Are you that aroused? I love it when you're ovulating, babe."

His words sent a spike of desire pooling into you, and his lack of movement was making you whine childishly beneath his hand. You attempted to move and buck your hips but found yourself fully pinned beneath his stronger body; your eyes fluttered shut at the thought of what his strength could do to you.

"Aw, have I fucked you dumb?" He cooed condescendingly, bracing his arms either side of your head before he savagely began fucking into you. The sound of your ass slapping against his hips grew obscenely loud.

As did your moaning. You knew Steve and Robin were downstairs getting drunk and watching a movie but you couldn't control yourself anymore.

"Oh fuck, oh Eddie, love your cock, want you to-- to--" you couldn't get the words out, stammering and dick dumb, but the sound of Eddie snorting in humour at you made you aware that he probably knew what you wanted. You felt so red, you were beginning to feel faint.

"Ah, I know what you want.", Eddie flipped you over with ease, gripping your soaking thighs and pinning them up and down. It spread you open, pussy quivering and red from his fucking, a sticky hot mess oozing between your legs.

"Want me to manhandle you, yeah? Want me grabbing you and fucking you hard." Eddie winked down at you, hitting the nail on the head, but admitting this desire out loud had humiliation crawling up your neck and dusting your cheeks.

You nodded shyly, submitting fully, and watching dazedly as his cock spread your puffy labia before sinking into the hilt.

Your head lolled back, tears streaming down your cheeks in pleasure as he gripped at your thighs roughly before throwing them over his shoulders.

"Show me how much you love my cock." Eddie's eyes were hot and smoky like charcoal, piercing you and seductively pinning you to the spot. They were intense, burning you up, and your chest rose and fell rapidly.

In the next moment, his length sunk into you so perfectly, hitting just the right angle and it had you seeing stars and shaking, back arching as you cried out in utter bliss.

He was relentless now, delving into you hot, hard and fast and using you just like you wanted, like you craved, making you wail and cry and create sounds you never thought would leave your throat.

You felt drunk, pleasure swirling inside of you so intensely that your mind could barely think, your lips could barely form words, and your thighs splattered with your own wetness from being fucked so good.

You gritted your teeth, gripping at his forearms and relishing in the way he grabbed at your body, fingerprints abusing your hips before seeking your neck in the way he knew you loved and squeezing.

The lack of oxygen seemed to heighten your pleasure, everything around you muffled and dream like, and blinking slowly up at Eddie made you realize that he had his eyes on you the entire time, face stern and concentrated in fucking you, damp with sweat and so handsome--

"Oh God, oh--", your voice was so high pitched, so feminine and submissive and desperate, "cum inside me, fuck me full of it, please, please--" you wailed, grabbing him all over desperately as though you could barely get enough, gripping at his hair, hands upon his chiseled jaw, grabbing at his biceps, you needed to feel him everywhere.

"So fucking greedy," he groaned, teeth gritting; it made him appear almost angry, so concentrated on ravaging you. This rare look had your heart fluttering. "I'll fuck you full of cum, greedy fucking woman."

His fingers found your clit, slippery and engorged, and his mere touch, circling you deftly, had your legs spasming and toes curling, head tossed back at the sensitivity of it.

Eddie rested his forearms either side of your head, caging you, and let both his hands delve into your hair, strands falling through his fingers. Gripping your hair, he let his lips touch your own, arousal spiking deep within your gut and causing a white hot fire to take over your senses, body thrashing as you gushed on his cock, soaking both your thighs in your essence.

You cried into his mouth, his firm grip the only thing keeping you still, and your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his hot, thick cum filling your pussy. It oozed out around him, dripping down his balls, and your head fell back in bliss.

You both remained still for a few moments, before Eddie gently untangled his hands from your hair, easing himself out of you and stroking your cheek as you whined at the feeling.

His face was no longer so stern and dominating. He looked down at you softly, hands upon your quaking thighs.

"Jesus, that was intense.", Eddie rubbed circles into your thighs, fingertips dancing soothingly upon you. You had an arm covering your eyes, breathing erratic and tears damp upon your cheeks.

"You okay, princess?" Eddie cooed, gently prying your arm from your face and watching your fucked out expression, eyes lidded and mascara trailing your cheeks. Your eyes were glossy and far away, so dazed.

"Aw, did I fuck you dumb? Are you dick dumb right now?" Eddie chuckled, grinning down at you as you pushed at him and told him to shut up.

"E-eddie, stop it." You huffed softly, gripping his hand with a small smile. "But yes," you giggled, "I do feel super dick dumb right now. My god. That was so fucking hot."

"It was. Jesus, you were so wet, babe. Like, I think that's the horniest you've ever been. And God, the things you were saying? Christ." He laughed, kissing you softly and grinning at the way you became so embarrassed.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After cleaning up and taking a bath together, you both fell asleep quickly. The next day, you shuffled downstairs groggily, Eddie sitting at the kitchen table looking mortified about something.

You blinked slowly, looking from Steve and Robin to Eddie. "Morning, guys."

Robin smiled, eating her cereal. Steve smiled, too. "Morning. How was your night?"

You tensed. Steve was just making conversation, right? "Good, thanks. Sorry for ditching you both." You smiled apologetically, taking a seat beside Eddie.

Steve gave you a sweet look. "Oh, that's okay." He brushed it off, which was good. "Though, I'm surprised you can even walk and talk after what Eddie was doing to you last night." He said it so casually that you had to do a double take, unsure you heard correctly.

Robin snorted, milk going everywhere as she giggled behind her hand. "Oh my god, Steve, don't-"

" 'Oh Eddie, oh, so good, Oh!' " Steve imitated poorly in a high pitched voice, finally cracking up as robin laughed hard enough that she had to lean against him.

Your mouth was agape, cheeks flushed and finally knowing what Eddie's mortified expression was for. They must have already confronted him.

Head buried in your hands, the sounds of your friends laughter and Eddie going between placating you and giggling too filled the room.

This was going to be a long morning.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie smut #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut

[abysswalkerastraea1]

hi, gorgeous. currently daydreaming about steve’s innocent, shy girl climbing on top of him while he’s in a chair and she’s ready to ride him but his huge hands settle on her hips to stop her and she’s looking at him all confused and ready to do her part but he just says “just sit here and look pretty for me,” before he begins to absolutely pound into her, one hand on her hips and the other holding her jaw to make her look at him. he’s just praising the hell out of his little angel baby for taking him so good because he’s just so big. the mental image of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watches her completely melt on his lap from pleasure has me clutching my peARLS

– sittin’ pretty

U KNOW WHAT!! UR THE DEVIL! THE DEVIL!! anyways this request had me feral the moment i started writing it… it gets a little soft at the end tho fem!reader, light choking, hella praise kink, what the request says basically <3 and around 1.7k MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s hard to press down your shyness as you tug the tight elastic of your underwear down your calves. They pool at your ankles. You step out of them and resist the urge to cave in and cover yourself. 

“C’mon, c’mere sweet girl,” Steve says softly, his hands smoothing over the top of his tan hairy thighs. He pats them to urge you over. 

Everything feels a bit stilted as you tiptoe over to the big comfy armchair he’s seated on, with his thighs parted. You can feel a surge of slick between your thighs at the sight of his aching cock, the head all pink and drippy just for you. It lies back against his happy trail, the vein on the side prominent. 

Steve offers you his hand, palm up. You take it and let your knees gently find either side of his hips, hovering hesitantly above him. Heat swirls between you, mixing with the fog of lust that emanates heavily from Steve. His adoring face gazes up at you, but his are eyes dark in a way that makes your tummy twist up. 

“Hi, pretty.” He murmurs, guiding your face down for a kiss. You sigh into it sweetly, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, against his lips. His kiss and reverent gaze give you courage, leaning back to plant one hand on his knee. Your other hand reaches between your two bodies and curls around his throbbing cock. It’s warm and hard, twitching at the sudden stimulation. Steve hisses lowly, his tummy flexing as pleasure jolts through him. 

Even though you’re shy, that doesn’t mean you’re not impatient. Today, there will be no working him up til he’s begging to be inside you, no matter how much you desperately want to. Instead, you waste no time, tilting your hips forward to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance in a way that makes you moan. Your thighs ache a little with the slow pace you lower yourself — but Steve’s cock is always a stretch. 

It stings, just the slightest, but enough to make you revel in it. You sink down, hand shifting forward to hold his hip to prop yourself up, and your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy as his hard cock stretches you open— unaware of how Steve fights to keep his eyes open, drinking in every minuscule expression on your face. 

“That’s it, honey,” He coos, sweeping his hand up your hip to tug you down an inch more. You mewl, body shuddering as you clench around him. It feels fucking mind-melting how good he feels filling you up. “That’sssss it.” 

You’re whimpering by the time he’s fully hilted in you, your thighs pressed down against his own. Steve’s panting a bit, hairy chest rising and falling as he struggles to keep himself in control. You’re so wet, so warm, and god, you’re still so shy even when you’re sitting on his cock — averting your eyes even as your tight little hole clenches around him. When did he get so lucky?

Try as you might, there’s not stopping the pitiful gasp that comes out when you lift yourself back up, his cock gliding almost all the way out of your cunt. You can feel the mess you’re already making on him, can already feel the subtle ache in your thighs but none of it deviates you from your plan. You’re going to ride your boyfriend like there’s no fucking tomorrow. 

But right as you prep yourself to sink back down, Steve’s hands stop you, shooting out to grab you by the hips. You pause. Shyness creeps back in. 

“Wha…? Is something wrong?” You ask. 

Steve’s quick to comfort, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek. “Hey, hey, everything’s fine. I just—“ He shift his hips up a bit and you shiver, eyes fluttering closed without thinking. When you open them again, he’s grinning. 

“I just want you to sit here and look pretty for me, hm?” He leans up to kiss your cheek and it makes you entirely too distracted for what happens. 

His tummy clenches, muscles tightening, as his hips suddenly snap up, thrusting his cock back deep into you. You squeal. 

“Steve!” Your hands propel forward, grasping his shoulders, but he doesn’t pause. His hands on your hips tighten as he holds you in place, drilling up into your wet cunt, hard and fast. Pleasure dribbles through your core, hot and melty. His thighs slap against your own, causing them to buckle and you sink down a little lower — only forcing his cock deeper inside you. 

You whine, all of a sudden overwhelmed, and tuck your face away— all too aware of how every time he fucks up into you, you make a needy little uh. 

And, well, that just won’t do. With one hand keeping your hips secure, his other wanders up, creeping in around your neck. Even as he fucks you roughly, his touch is still gentle. His big hands can stretch across the expanse of your jaw— and he uses it to coax your head up. You’re already looking teary eyed, warm enough in the face that he can feel it with his hand, all from how much you’re enjoying it. Steve loves it. 

“Baby,” He manages to rasp out sweetly. You gasp, hiccupy and high pitched, embarrassed by the wet squelchy noises he’s fucking out of your cunt. “Look at you, my baby. Doing so good for me, huh? Taking it so well, angel.” 

You lean into the hand around your throat further, letting him curl his fingers around it a bit tighter. One of your hands flies up to grasp his wrist, needing, craving the connection. 

“Steve,” you cry, delirious from the pleasure. His cock fills you over and over, unravelling you from the inside. “Steve,” You repeat his name uselessly, mouth hanging open as a whiney moan takes over. 

“I know, I know.” He coos, sweet as he can be while ruining you on his cock. He’s got a furrow in his brow, his jaw set, perfect brown eyes searching your face— always looking for which button to press next, which way to make it better for you. God, you love him. 

“So fucking good, isn’t it angel?” He grunts. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt, just made to take my cock, isn’t she?” 

“Yes!” you keen, the words tearing from your mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck,” Pathetic whimpery noises flow out freely, your grip around his wrist tightening as you feel heat gather low in your tummy. 

“G-God, fuck,” Steve groans, the first hint of desperation leaking into his words. His hand around your throat tightens in the slightest, a soft pressure that has your head spinning. “Can fucking feel you getting close.” 

His words make you moan, your thighs slipping further down — your hand shoots out to brace against the arm of the chair, desperate to keep him going, to reach your peak. 

“Your—“ A whimper slips into his voice. “Fuck. Your pussy gets all tight when she wants to cum— y’wanna cum?” 

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished his sentence. With how hard he’s fucking you, hips thrusting up against yours, it’s a wonder he can even see it. You whimper out a “Yes.” just in case. 

“I know you do.” He groans loudly. “Deserve to, too. You’ve been so good, so fucking good, yeah?” 

His hand holding your hip slips forward, snaking towards your clit and pleasure twists the coil in your tummy up tighter and tighter. His rough thumb pushes against it, sloppy but effective. You wail. 

“Y’deserve to cream all over my cock like a good girl, don’t you?” He rasps, throat a bit wrecked from every sweet sultry noise thats passes his lips. 

You’re not even sure if it’s words coming out your mouth anymore, just a whiney mess of yes’s tangled up in your moans. Steve whines, the rhythm of his strokes beginning to falter as his own orgasm begins to rear up. You whine and your hips move on their own accord— bouncing down on his cock to meet his thrusts midway. 

“Yes, yes, fuck, you’re so good, y’look fucking perfect bouncing on my cock,” Steve rambles, that perfect pussy-drunk expression beginning to take over him. His moans turn to whines and with one desperate whimper of your name, you topple like a house of cards. 

Pleasure unravels you. Your hips stutter and drop down, trying to cram every inch of Steve into you as you can, while your other hand claws weakly at his tummy. Heat scorches every nerve inside you, delicious and overwhelming all at once. 

The scratch of your nails, the clench of your wet cunt, the pitiful crying noise you make, all of it sets Steve off — his back arching and hips bucking up, trying to get more of your hot, wet pussy. His face screws up, a high whine tearing out his throat as his hands grapple to circle around your back, trying to get you closer.

It’s a sweat press of skin, chest to chest. You twitch and moan, face tucked away safely in his neck, as Steve lets all his noises out into the curve of your own. It’s deeply intimate — enough to make your shyness peek back up when Steve digs his face out after a minute of laboured breathing. His face is pink, his expression blissful. 

“You,” He huffs tiredly, eyes scanning your face worriedly. “You okay? Wasn’t too rough?” 

You melt a bit, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You chuckle. Nerves rear their ugly head within you before you can flatten them. “Was I— that was good?” You check. 

Steve laughs softly, nuzzling in closer to you. He smells fantastic. You can’t help how you mirror him, nosing along his cheek, letting your eyes slip shut. 

“Baby, I think you melted my brain.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

[abysswalkerastraea1]

The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 

Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise

Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!

A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”

“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.

“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”

“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”

“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”

“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 

This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.

“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.

“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”

You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 

There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 

“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”

You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.

When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.

After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.

It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 

“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.

Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 

“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”

She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 

“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 

You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 

“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”

“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 

“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”

“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 

“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”

“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 

“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 

“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 

“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.

“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”

“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 

Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 

“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”

He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 

“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”

The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 

Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.

“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 

When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”

Still no reply.

“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 

Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”

“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”

“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 

“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.

“No.”

“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.

“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”

“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 

“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 

“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”

“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 

“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”

“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 

“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.

This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 

After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 

After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.

As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 

Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 

“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”

It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.

“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 

“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 

On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 

“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”

He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 

You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 

“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 

“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”

“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”

“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.

Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  

“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  

“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”

“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 

“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 

“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”

“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 

“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 

You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 

“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 

He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 

Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 

“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 

“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 

“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 

“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”

“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”

Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 

Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 

“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”

“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 

“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”

“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 

“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”

“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”

“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 

“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”

“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”

“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”

“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 

The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 

“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”

“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”

“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”

“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”

He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 

“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 

“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 

“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”

‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.

You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.

“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 

He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 

He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.

As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 

“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”

The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 

Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.

Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 

He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 

As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 

“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 

He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 

You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 

The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 

You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 

Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 

But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 

You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 

“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  

After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 

“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 

“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 

You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?

On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 

He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 

Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 

You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 

“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 

“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 

The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 

“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.

“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”

He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”

To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.

“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”

Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 

After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 

Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 

You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.

Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 

As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 

“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 

“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.

“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.

“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 

“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 

Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 

“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”

Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 

“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.

Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 

You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 

“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.

“From bugs?”

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”

You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.

“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.

“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 

“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”

You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.

After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 

It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 

The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 

Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 

Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.

What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 

“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 

You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.

“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 

“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.

Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.

Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 

Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 

He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 

While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”

“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”

He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 

“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 

“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”

Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”

As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.

Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.

“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”

“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”

“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”

“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.

“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”

“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”

You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 

The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 

A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 

It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 

Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.

Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 

“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 

There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 

“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.

“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”

You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 

Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.

“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.

Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“

“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.

Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.

He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”

“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 

“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”

“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 

“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”

You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 

“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”

“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.

“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 

He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 

“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 

As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 

“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 

“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.

You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.

Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 

“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 

“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.

“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 

“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”

“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.

“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”

Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 

“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 

“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 

“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”

Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 

It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 

“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 

“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”

Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 

“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 

He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.

Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.

He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 

“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.

“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.

You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.

He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 

Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”

Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 

“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 

The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”

“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”

“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 

“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”

“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”

If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 

The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.

He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 

“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”

Jackpot. 

A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 

“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 

Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 

He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 

“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”

Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 

“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”

The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 

“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.

“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”

You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 

His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 

Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 

If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”

He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 

Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 

“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 

“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”

“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”

You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 

As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 

“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 

“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”

You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 

“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 

You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.

He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.

The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 

Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.

You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 

And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.

“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 

You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.

Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 

Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 

He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 

You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.

You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 

All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 

The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.

“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 

After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 

You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.

Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 

“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.

He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 

“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”

Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 

“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 

“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”

You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 

Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 

“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”

The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.

Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 

“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 

Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 

You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 

In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 

“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 

You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 

Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 

“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 

It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 

Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 

“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 

“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 

In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 

The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 

He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.

Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 

His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 

Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 

He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 

He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 

Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 

“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.

“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 

His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 

“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”

The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 

“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 

Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 

Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 

Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.

“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”

Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 

“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 

A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 

As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 

He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 

When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 

“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 

“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 

“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 

“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.

“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 

“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.

He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 

“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 

“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 

You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.

“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 

“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 

You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 

Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.

“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 

“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 

He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 

“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 

And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.

His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 

When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 

“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”

With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 

The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 

Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 

He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.

Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”

Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 

“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 

“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”

His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 

The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 

When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 

His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.

Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 

You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 

You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 

You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call. 

It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 

After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 

Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 

“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 

“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”

“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”

“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 

You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 

“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 

“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”

Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 

“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”

“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“

You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”

“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”

“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”

“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 

Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 

“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 

You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 

“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”

You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 

Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 

Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.

At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.

And there he is.

In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.

"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.

"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."

You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.

"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."

He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.

"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."

You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.

"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.

"And I owe you a few dates, for real."

As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.

"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.

"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.

You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.

[abysswalkerastraea1]

˚ · • . ° . 𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐄𝐓.

summary: you and your boyfriend eddie decide to have some fun in the living room, what you fail to notice is that your boyfriends roommate steve is also awake. and he can’t help himself.

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious), kinda pervy!steve, msturbation, degrading, praises, kind of a choking kink if u squint, VERY LIGHT dom/sub dynamics (like very very light), dom!eddie, sub!reader.

pairings: boyfriend!eddie munson x reader x roommate!steve harrington

author’s note: i just love steddie. if you see me repost this a few times no u didn't. not proof-read. ignore mistakes!!

Steve wasn't a morning person.

So it was no surprise when he tossed in the bed, groaning and whining at the noise coming outside of his room.

His pillow was smushed against his ears, attempting to cancel out the noise.

“F—fuck, s—shit, angel, take it, mmpf.” He barely had one eye open, and couldn't make up most of the dialogue, so he tried to make sense of the noise coming from the living room. 

He removed the pillow from his ear, face scrunched in annoyance as he listened in.

Grunts, whines, and the slapping of skin mixed together, with Steve’s hazed state, he could barely make sense of it. But once he heard your pretty whines his eyes shot open. 

Holy fucking shit. The two of you weren’t doing what he thought you were… Were you?

He sat up quickly, hand rubbing his eyes before he carefully situated himself on the bed to look through the gap where his door had opened slightly. 

“Fuuuuck, just like that, princess, take my cock, mhmm.” Another grunt from Eddie, his skin slapping into yours, head thrown back, his hold on your waist bruisingly rough. Or at least that’s what Steve imagined, hearing Eddie’s raspy voice mixed with your silenced grunts was enough to fuel his morning wood harder than imaginable. 

He was aching already, his cock painfully caged in his boxers, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t take a peek. He should just attempt to go to sleep again, he should give the two of you privacy. 

But, fuck, was it tempting. 

This is all he ever wanted, he knew how perverted that sounded, but this was his chance. 

The walls in the apartment were thin, so fucking thin that he would hear your mewls every night, and Eddie’s dirty talk. He would never admit to how many times he got off to the sound of the two of you going at it. It was embarrassing, outright disgusting, and he felt ashamed. 

A crimson red and disgust colored his cheeks the second he came all over his hand, sticky, always so much that it spurted all over his chest. But, god, did it feel so fucking good. 

He didn’t know what it was that drew him in this much, Eddie’s dominance, your pathetic whines, him degrading you while you begged for more, it was all of it. And he was begging to get a glimpse of it, a little taste.

“Yeah, baby, you like that don’t you?” More sounds coming from the two of you, Eddie’s cocky tone enough to have Steve feel himself against his boxers. 

He was hard, so achingly hard that he hissed, and his other hand immediately clamped down on his mouth to shut himself up, the skin slapping and the cursing didn’t falter a bit. 

He could totally get away with this. 

And he was about to burst in his pants, a little peek, wouldn’t hurt, would it? Jesus Christ, he knew it was wrong, but this was the perfect opportunity, he finally could see your fucked out face, Eddie’s cocky grins, he needed this. He deserved this.

Steve shifted quietly in his bed, concealing himself but still getting a good look at the two of you, his cock was needy, weeping, and he needed to give it attention soon. Just the look in your eyes, the way Eddie was all the way into you made him bite his lip to conceal the groans that slipped past his parted lips. 

“Ssshh, baby, I know, I know, but you gotta quiet down a little, yea?” Eddie cooed against your face, biting and nibbling a trail from your chin to your neck, a grin sitting on his lips. 

Fuck, Steve wished he could do that, have you sprawled on him on the couch, bare pussy on sight while he fucked himself into you, legs wrapped around him, while he left marks on your neck, truly owning you, like Eddie did.

Eddie squished your cheeks to quiet you down, his cock still hitting spots inside of your walls that you didn’t know existed, and you were quick to pout. “You don’t want our little roommate to wake up and see you like this, do you?”

Steve’s ears perked at that, bubblegum pink all over his cheeks, but it only encouraged him more and more, his cock engorged with blood and the need to fuck his hands was all he could think about. 

The two of you were talking about him, and he was more than intrigued. Slowly but surely, Steve pushed his boxers down his thighs, hissing quietly when his heavy erection bobbed out, plopping against his v-line, tip hot and angry, waiting to be attended. 

Eddie had you split in half, or at least that’s what it looked like to Steve, “Whinin’ like a bitch in heat, soakin’ my cock and still beggin’ for more.” Eddie grunted, Steve watched in awe, how hungrily you looked at Eddie, those doe-eyes looking so innocent yet you were anything but. Eddie was sliding in and out of your walls, harsh, quick, and making sure you could feel him fully. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the groan that dared the slip past his mouth, cock hot and pulsating in his hands, he spat on it with a shuddered breath, wishing that instead of his hands he could push his veiny cock into every single one of your holes. Drawing out those pleas and whines from you like Eddie did. 

Eddie’s cocky, domineering words also got him going, he didn’t know what was taking over him; he needed you under him, whining and begging for him, but he also wanted Eddie to dominate him as well, a fucked up dynamic that he would die to be a part of. You, submitting to both of them, while Eddie dominated both of you. And Steve in the middle, it would be perfect. 

Eddie’s hands were bruisingly all over you, cock pounding into you with such force that Steve watched open-mouthed, wishing he could get a taste of you, wishing he could feel the way your tight cunt took him in.

“Oh, shit, you’d like that, baby wouldn’t you? Such a little slut, you’d want Harrington to see you all pathetic like this?” Eddie grinned, mocking you further and further, causing you to mewl at him pathetically.

Steve smeared his spit all over his cock, using it as a lubricant while he desperately wrapped his palm around it, ungodly sounds escaping his lips, not able to help himself when the two of you started talking about him.

His sickly desires coming to life in the best fucking way possible.

“You’d want Steve to see you bein’ my personal cocksleeve?” Heat rushed to your cheeks quickly, face feeling hot both from desire and how filthy Eddie was being, and he knew you loved it. 

You shook your head shyly, gaze still on him with a pout. “Nuh—uh, don’t lie, baby, I know you like an audience.” Steve tugged at his cock feverishly, knuckles turning white with how much desire ran in his veins, his mouth hung open both from the pleasure and the words being uttered, would the two of you be into this as well?

God, he wanted nothing more than to have you underneath him as Eddie did, he wanted to get a taste of you, he wanted to feel your pussy squeezing him because he knew that’s what Eddie always blabbed about through those thin walls, how tight you were and how warm you felt.

Steve shouldn’t have listened, he shouldn’t have jerked off to his roommate having sex with his girlfriend, but fucking Christ the two of you were so hot.

How was he supposed to help himself?

“Would you want him to take a turn with you?” Steve’s ears perked, and his desperate tugs at his cock almost halted, he sat up a bit straighter, hand still rubbing his aching cock but eyes searching for you, searching for that approval.

You nodded shyly, a grin appearing on Eddie’s face  “Mhmm, I know you would, such a fuckin’ slut aren’t ya?” Steve’s guttural groans were concealed by the harsh skin-on-skin provided by the two of you, Eddie’s loud rambling, and his even louder grunts.

Steve perfectly red in the face, fucked his fist harder, trying so hard not to finish himself off this early, but the desire pooling in his tummy was nearing.

That shy little nod, Eddie’s wicked grin, fuck, he was going to keep this memory in his brain forever. 

“Love you, pretty girl,” Eddie hummed, sloppy kisses peppered all over your perky tits, mouth latching onto one of your nipples, sucking, nibbling while his fingers drew small circles around your breasts, igniting more pleasure.

Overstimulating you in every way possible, and Steve watched with an open mouth.

Both of you could not resist the grunts that left their lips, your frail body becoming mushy at all of the sensations, looking pretty as ever. 

“You look s’perfect like this, honey, did you know that? Mhmm, this cunt made just for me, huh?” Eddie cooed, and Steve’s strokes against his dick were more sensual now, it’s like he wanted to feel you too.

You sank into the couch further every time he thrust himself into you, praises making your eyes roll all the way back to your head. 

“Takin’ it so well, sweetheart, look at all the sweet noises your pretty pussy makes when I’m fuckin’ you raw, huh? God I love it when you get all dumb like this on my cock, princess.” he praised. 

“Being the prettiest, good girl f’me, thinkin’ about nothing but my cock, perfect little fucktoy,” He groaned, voice getting coarse with need. Those chocolate hues you loved about Eddie were long gone now, replaced by something more sinister, fueled purely by hunger, and it made your nails dig deeper into his back, making him hiss.

“Ed—Eds…” Steve wanted to worship you, all of his thoughts being stripped away because of how fucked out you looked. Candy gloss smeared all over your needy lips, hair disheveled, eyes barely open, and spread out for Eddie like the good girl you were. 

“Yeah, honey? What d’ya need?” Tone saccharine sweet, his hand landed on your cheeks, smushing them together, making it harder for you to register anything, he was making you feel so hot, so much… And you couldn’t bear to talk.

“N—need to, uh—” Words died down your throat when he shoved himself deeper, hitting that sweet, sweet spot that made you go all dumb on him, just like he loved. 

“You wanna cum, doll? Huh? Can’t handle it anymore? Thought you were my tough girl?” He mocked with an ‘Aww’ sound, jutting out his bottom lip, making you nod vigorously. 

“I—I’m your good girl, sir,” you muttered. Steve was trying so hard not to tug at his poor cock harder, not to go completely feral because he so wanted to last. He wanted to hear the pretty whines that left your lips, the guttural groans that consumed Eddie. 

His hands landed on your clit now, he could feel your pussy nuzzling him, could feel that familiar feeling pooling in your tummy, and he wanted to get you into that space, where you could barely talk, where you whined and trashed for him to let you cum. “B—but ‘s t—too much, need to—” You whined, struggling.

Eddie breathed out a throaty chuckle, drawing circles around your sensitive spots to earn those breathy huffs from you. “Can barely speak, such a good fuckin’ cockslut for me, aren’t ya?” He mocked, all mean and filthy.  

“And, all fuckin’ mine,” He grunted, he wasn’t forgiving, and neither was his cock, slipping out of you entirely to drive you crazy. Dark chuckles left his lips when he enjoyed your little whines, that deeper dig your nails had on his back with anger.

Steve’s lips wrapped around his knuckles, biting on them to conceal the lewd noises daring to slip out. 

Eddie’s huge length, slightly bent to the left, facing upwards was slicked in both of your juices. Steve wanted nothing more than to have his tongue lapping up at him, taste both of you.

“Speak up, slut, what do you want, you wanna cum, huh?” Vicious, and bold, his hand had a hold on your throat now, harsh enough to draw both pain and pleasure out of you, making you cry out at the emptiness.

“S—so mean,” you murmured, you loved every fucking second of it. But his teasing was driving you crazy, and you so badly needed that sweet release, and to feel his warm load filling your hole.

He pouted at your words, releasing your throat as his palm stroked your cheeks, he knew you enjoyed his mean side, but he still couldn’t resist your pretty face and that addictingly gentle tone. 

You always knew how to break him, and to get him to do what you wanted. Which was to get completely fucked.

With a sticky sweet and delicate kiss on your lips, he was quick to thrust back into you. “‘M s—sorry, sweetheart, ‘m sorry but you’re just so pretty like this, can’t help it,” he breathed against your neck, his movements getting sloppier when your moans became more pathetic and needy, he wasn’t going to last if you came.

And it was okay because Steve was dying for a release, both knuckles white, one from tugging, the other from biting into it to stifle his loudness.

“Don’t worry, honey, you can cum for me,” He cooed, lips pressed into the shell of your ear, kissing a trail down to your cheekbones.

“S—shit, fuckin’ shit, sweetheart cum for me and I’ll give you what you need,” He fucked himself deeper, slower into you.

Steve’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, blurry vision only able to focus on the two of you.

“You want my cum don’t you, baby? Want me to fill you up?” You were gone, back arched with pleasure, trying to get more from him if that was even possible.

“P—please, Eds, need you to mark me, make me yours, all over again,” you moaned, craving him, feeling that tight coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter. 

“A—ahh, shit—shit, sweet girl, when you talk like that you know you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, his own voice failing him when he was all lost in you. 

“Need your cum, Eds, p—please, cum with me baby,” you begged, body frail beneath him, soft, mushy, and all ready.

“Shit, f—fuck, so fuckin’ tight when you cum, sweetheart, I don’t think I can—” His rambling got louder and louder, not caring if Steve could hear—hell Eddie wanted him to see this. See the way you were getting split open by Eddie, begging, while Steve fucked himself to the two of you, all so desperate, waiting for Eddie’s instructions. 

A newfound desire found Eddie at the thought of both you and Steve being so submissive to him, letting him take all of the control. “Fuckin’ fuck! Jesus—mmpf,” he grunted.

Steve was desperate now—as much as he was ashamed of it, he had jerked off to the two of you so many times before, he knew from the noises, that the two of you were close.

And he was more than ready to finally see your pretty face and Eddie’s mouth hung open when both of you came, his fantasies coming true. 

He fucked his fists harder, balls drawing up at the needy moans that slipped past your lips. “G—gonna fuck all of my load—fuck—into you, princess.” One final thrust rutted deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. 

“Fuuuck, fuck fuck!” He yelled out, and that’s all it took, both of your eyes squeezed shut, melting into the couch, loud moans and groans filling the room while Steve watched with lulled eyes.

Your orgasm was quick to wash over your body, pussy convulsing around his cock deliciously, ropes of his warm cum spilling inside of you. All the while Steve squeezed his cock, spurting his cum all over his hand, white beads of his warm load covering his knuckles. 

Heavy breathing filled the living room, and Steve’s room. His mind hazed, and eyes remained shut. 

“Shitshitshit, take it, baby, take it all,” Eddie breathed out, his load sitting pretty inside of you, filling you nicely.

“Good girl,” he whispered, planting a nice kiss on your glossy lips, peppering your face with small ones, a wide grin sitting on his lips.

“Fuck,” Steve grunted out unintentionally, hand planting on his mouth with a loud smack, but it was too late. 

Eddie’s head snapped backward, a grin sitting on his lips before his dangerous gaze met Steve’s dilated pupils, blown out by pleasure, and the anxiety in his system slicking his forehead. 

“Did you enjoy that, Steve?” Eddie mocked from where he was standing, not moving an inch, eyeing the shocked look on his face, fully enjoying it. 

Steve, at a loss for words, couldn’t even blabber a simple response. How the fuck was he going to explain this? 

Eddie barked a mocking chuckle, pouting. “Your poor cock must be aching from those calloused hands, abusin’ it every night. You think we didn’t hear your pathetic groans every night? The walls are thin, Stevie,” he cooed, his tone so teasing that Steve gulped. 

What the fuck was going to happen now? 

Would Eddie beat him up for being a fucking pervert? 

Would the two of you move out as soon as possible? 

Endless possibilities ran through Steve’s mind, yet he couldn’t muster a single reply, cursing himself for even fucking doing this. 

Yet, much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie’s reply was his wildest dreams and fantasies bundled up into a full sentence. “Oh, don’t be shy now, Stevie, come out, let us help you.” You hummed quietly agreeing with Eddie, too fucked out to say anything else, yet still up for more. 

Without another word Steve got up, unashamedly walking into the living room with his junk out, hand still covered in his cum, Eddie’s gaze and grin were much more devilish up close, making Steve’s cock stir against the cold air hitting his tip. 

You were quick to sit up on your knees, dragging Steve closer to you, hand gently holding up his semen-covered knuckle, giggling at the sight before your gaze met his. 

The blood rushed to his cock in an instant, your doe-eyes still held that innocence, yet there was something filthy about it that had Steve wanting to melt into a puddle. You stuck out your tongue at him, mouth quick to wrap around his knuckles, lapping up his juices. 

Your gaze stuck on him, and Steve’s thighs shuddered with need, eyes drinking you in while you wiped him clean and released his hand with a pop sound of your velvety lips. 

A lewd noise escaped from Steve’s mouth, making him grow weak in his knees, still unable to find the words to speak. You were perfect. Just perfect. 

“Stevie tastes so good, Eds,” you hummed sweetly, gaze never leaving Steve’s, and Eddie watched the two of you with newfound hunger. 

“Do you want us to help you, Stevie?” You asked with a pout, plushy lips slickening with your candy gloss, and now with both Steve and Eddie’s juices. Steve nodded vigorously, head about to fall off his neck, gulping and almost groaning at you. 

Steve wasn’t a morning person, until now. 

[abysswalkerastraea1]

eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.

tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, size kink, oral m receiving, piv sex, praise kink, dirty talk, general debauchery. for my love @raccoonboywrites

and, listen, you’re not a size queen at all. don’t care much for how big or small a cock is so long as whoever it’s attached to knows how to use it. but you gasp out loud once you get your fingers dig under eddie’s waistband, pulling the offending material down to let his length spring out.

it’s enough to shock you back into the room, watching as the thick weight of it slaps against eddie’s tummy, the way it curves into his navel. he’s wet, leaking at the head and matting down the pretty swirls of black hair that lead a trail down, down, down.

he’s rumpled against your bed frame, slumped down with his shirt rucked up his tummy. the prettiest pink flush spreading across his cheeks, tinging his ears and dipping as low as his collar. you’re willing to bet his chest is blotched with the lovely rosy colour, too. he grips aimlessly at your comforter, wide eyes watching your every move; tracing every hitch of your breath.

you wrap your hand around the base — purposely ignoring the pathetic little whine eddie makes, because jesus now isn’t the time to think too much about that — and you moan despite yourself when your hand doesn’t even wrap fully around the girth of it, dwarfing your fingers and palm.

“you— you’re so big, oh my god,” your voice catches at the end, desperate and dampened by your own desire for it. you lean forward, hot breath ghosting over him, tugging his foreskin back just enough for the head to pop out, shiny and reddening with need, “you could’ve at least warned me you were packing a python down there, fuck.”

“oh shit, really? i thought it was aver— holy fuck, you don’t have to—“ he’s bug eyed, eyebrows shooting under his fringe as you mouth at the head, determined and eager to get a taste of him. uncut, heavy on your tongue, the heady splash of precum blurting out to coat your tastebuds.

eddie’s knees kick up a little as you mouth greedily at his tip, pointing your tongue to run in circles around the glans on the underside. you smirk despite yourself, getting a kick out of it when eddie goes a little cross eyed, burying a ringed hand into your hair.

you indulge yourself, feeling the weight of him in your mouth as you sink lower, just far back enough as to not trigger your gag reflex. your lips wrapping around his hot flesh, suckling softly, reveling in each blurt of pearlescent release that drips onto your tongue.

“baby, sweetheart — fuck,” eddie gasps, breath shuddery, lightly pulling at your tresses to test the water. his mouth falling open into a quiet moan when your eyes flutter at the feeling, “y’can- y’can take more, right? s’not… s’not that big.”

your jaw cracks under what of him you’ve fit in, which truthfully isn’t much. despite your efforts, there’s still a good three inches of eddie’s cock left untouched by hand or mouth, and you really have to wonder if he’s that clueless of his size. you pull off with a wet pop, strings of saliva keeping you connected to him as you stare up with wet orbs.

“eddie, you’re huge.” your voice is wrecked, butterflies swirling in your tummy as you make eye contact with him once again. you flush under his debauched gaze, "i— shit. nobody's ever told you before?"

eddie shrugs, considers for a moment. you don't think he's aware of the fact he's holding you in place with his hand, gripping your hair just enough to keep you still, hovering over his dick just close enough that if he wanted to, he could push you back down, get your mouth back on him.

though, that’s clearly not what he wants. because, he’s slipping the hand from your hair, doing this kind of awkward dance as he lays you out where he wants you.

you end up on your back, thighs spread wide as eddie slots between them, mouthing hotly at your neck. his fingers graze along your flushed skin, dance on your hipbone, across your pelvis. dips those godforsaken fingers into your panties, carelessly fumbling over your sopping wet pussy.

“this is okay, right?”

“it’s all okay, eddie. anything you want.”

"not— not even touched you yet and you're already this wet?" eddie's voice is a low timbre against your skin, has you arching up into his touch with a soft little moan. he sounds shocked, no heat or teasing in his words.

"can't help it," you gasp, exhaling shakily when eddie swipes two fingers over your clit deftly, unable to hide his smile at how receptive you are, "feeling the size of you in my hand — my mouth, god. would've let you choke me with it, would've thanked you."

eddie buries his face into your cleavage, poorly concealing a choked whine. he's skillful with his fingers, working you over fast despite how much your words are clearly affecting him.

your hips rock in short little circles, fingers sinking into eddie's hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck. you whine, body set alight with the feeling of calloused fingers grazing the small bundle of nerves.

he's biting you, brandishing you with little blooming bruises, and with the noise he makes against your damp skin you'd think it was him getting touched like this, him hurtling towards the edge.

you're so wet that the slick noises of eddie's fingers on your pussy are deafening in your ears, causing your back to prickle with heat, tummy winding tight.

the hot, heavy flesh of his cock presses against your inner thigh, shocking loud moans from you both at the same time. you arch up into his touch, ears ringing as pleasure takes over your body.

"i— you're making me cum," you gasp breathily, a static feeling warming your body, eyes rolling into the back of your head. you grapple for eddie's hair once more, tugging with a ferocity as your release washes over you.

it's. something. you feel like you're fucking floating, and eddie keeps swirling his fingers perfectly, whispering little shocked praises and keening into your rough pulling as he wrings you out.

once eddie's sure you're done with the aftershocks of your orgasm, he hazards pushing two fingers into your soaked cunt, and you're practically shooting away with overstimulation. crying out, somehow swivelling your hips and pushing down onto his fingers further once the shock wears off.

"you're a shit," you gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, "god, might've known your dick was gonna be big, fuckin' size of your fingers."

"was— was that good for you? can i, shit can i?" eddie's desperate, rutting the thick outline of his cock against your thigh. he's never stopped fucking leaking, soaking your leg in milky precum and allowing the slip and slide to feel good.

you nod, shaky hands tilting his head up so you can finally, finally, get your mouth on his. eddie's whole body presses flush against yours, his hand coming out to stabilise himself so he doesn't crush you, and fuck.

it's so charged, like he can't stilt his emotions as he snakes his tongue into your mouth, lapping at your own wetly. it's probably disgusting, doesn't feel like it though — you'd swallow his spit happily, whenever he wanted, if it meant he kept making you feel like this.

eddie's shaky hand fumbles for the base of his cock as you continue kissing, positioning himself so that he's nestled prettily between your legs. the kisses turn languid, and he almost sounds pained when he next speaks, "s-sorry. if it, if it hurts."

"let it hurt, i want it to," your demeanor falters a little, turning doe eyed and pleading as eddie slides the ruddy head of his cock up and down the seam of your cunt, flirts with the idea of pushing the tip in just to watch you gasp and keen.

"would never," eddie promises, finally — fucking, finally — pushing the first few inches into the sopping wet heat of your pussy. he cries out when you clench around him unwittingly, and you mumble out a small sorry as you adjust.

it's. not good. it's not bad, either, but fuck. you feel like you're being split from the inside, the thick tip pushing you wider than you anticipated. your fingers grapple for eddie's biceps, nails digging in tightly, "so fucking big, oh my god, you're gonna split me in half."

you're breathless and eddie catches on, panics a little, "you're okay? you're okay, right? i can sto—"

"if you stop, i swear to god," you seethe, looking at eddie with a fierce spark in your eyes, "keep going. fuck. keep going."

before long and with a little bit of resistance, eddie's buried deep inside of you. your bodies roll against one anothers, shallow, slow breaths

it starts slow, the catch and drag of eddie's cock shocking you both into silence. but, before long, your pussy catches up with the programme, gushing wet and allowing eddie to push in further with each thrust.

it's intimate, erotic.

"you're so tight," eddie all-out whimpers, head falling and shoulders shaking as he fucks you at a lazy pace, clearly trying his best to hold out for as long as he can.

"fuck, you’re so gentle,” you try, knees squeezing eddie’s narrow waist, thighs encapsulating him, “you can go quicker. not gonna break me.”

eddie shakes his head, almost like he’s bewildered. looks at you all fucking soft, clearly can’t help the rut of his hips as he buries in deep, biting his inner lips to muffle his noises.

you grasp a hold of eddie's hand with nimble fingers, guide his hand over the softness of your tummy, let him push down where his cock is buried deep inside of you. his whole body shudders, and you can feel where he kicks up.

"practically in my guts," you wheeze, unable to shake the full feeling despite how your pussy gushes for him, so full you swear you feel him in your throat with every deep thrust he can muster, "you're s-so big, eddie."

"oh— jesus, can't do shit like that. can't say shit like that," eddie grunts desperately, rutting into you and gripping for your waist tightly, other hand still pushed down on the pudge of your belly, "gonna make me cum so, so quick."

"can feel every ridge of you, you're splitting me apart," you keen, "i can't— god, you've ruined me f-for anyone else. yours, yours, m'yours."

eddie's forehead slumps against your own, and you're panting into each others mouths more than anything else, lips barely brushing, "mine, you're mine." he agrees, though he sounds pained and submissive as he says it.

your hand snakes around eddie's neck, holding him in place as he fucks you so desperately, so rough you're rattling the stupid bedframe, and you don't think you've ever felt anything like this before. it's all-consuming, the tug between sore and soul-crushingly sensual.

your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, the constant press against your spot causing a quicker build up than you could've anticipated. you both make eye contact as you come with a muted gasp, nails scraping harshly at the soft skin on eddie's neck as you rock it out.

"didn't think you could get any tighter, god," eddie whimpers, eyes squeezing shut, finger-shaped bruises sure to be left on your hips as he fucks you in some sort of reckless abandon, "fuck, i'm so close. i'm so sorry, fuck, fuck."

you nod, understanding, the wet clap of skin on skin deafening as your release allows an even smoother glide. he's fucking ethereal above you, covered in a light sheen of sweat, mouth open in a constant stream of steady moans.

you reach between where both of your bodies meet, where the final few inches don't quite fit, spreading your fingers either side of his cock to allow friction as he fucks in and out rapidly, chasing his high.

eddie looks at you with a wild expression, eyebrows shooting up into his fringe. he grunts like a fucking animal, eyes drifting down to where your hand is, "you— you— i'm cumming, holy fuck—!"

he's loud when he comes, full body wracked with it. you feel his cock pulse and kick inside of you, painting your insides deep. the moan you let out at the feeling is hardly voluntary, so pathetic you flush hot when you realise just how loud you are.

"thank you, thank you," eddie's mumbling against your skin, kissing the side of your neck softly as he comes down, "god, you're perfect. so perfect."

you shudder, overcome with this sappy fucking fond feeling, allowing eddie to collapse on top of you once he's done. it's soft, domestic, even.

you both end up in some sort of gross, body fluid covered cuddle as you calm down. blissed out in the post-orgasmic haze, and fuck.

maybe you're in love with him.

[abysswalkerastraea1]

Fear & Hunger- Just a Quick Peek... (D'arce/the Knight Fic)

Idk why I'm torturing D'arce so much, okay? I saw the Sylvian bunnies and thought about how she would react to them, given her blatant refusal to perform a 'marriage' with the player character and how she tells them that she's a virgin when she does agree to it.

The thought of it alone was enough to make the blood rush to her head, and while she would *never* dream of partaking in such vile and disgracing acts.... D'arce couldn't help but to let her mind wonder about the possibilities before her.

Warnings: Orgy, Outdoor Sex, Religious Cult, Voyeurism, Slight Sex Repulsion, Masturbation, Public Masturbation, Sexual Fantasies, Guilty Pleasure, Religious Guilt, Guilty Wank, Sexual Repression, Hair Pulling, Self Loathing

D’arce couldn’t take much more of this. She has seen too many- far too many!- bare bodies and sexual deviants in her time at the dungeon of Fear and Hunger. That cheeky mercenary had the gall to drag her- both a woman and a knight of the Alll-mer- to an orgy of degenerates that worshiped the goddess Sylvian, master of lust, love and the creation of life. A bunny-masked woman offered to… ‘relieve’ D’arce of her troubles and woes, to which she soundly refused and thus refused to even acknowledge the debauchery taking place before her. Her other companions might partake but she certainly will not! Not now, not ever! E-Especially when she was… was still a… a-

Her armour was more uncomfortable now than ever before. No matter how she postured herself, no matter how she leaned her back against a nearby tree or how she shifted from foot to foot, D’arce was intimately aware of her body sealed tightly away in a cast of iron and leather. Trapped… For the second time in her life, she felt utterly trapped in her armour. She wouldn’t remove it- no, not here not now- but damn did she come close to removing her breast plate and unbuckling her grieves so that her skin might finally breathe in the stale, chilly air that wafted over the back garden. 

How much longer will they take…? She could only grimace as the sounds of passionless sex bounced off the open air and stone walls. Well… almost passionless. D’arce could clearly make out the voice of the mercenary, Cahara, clearly in the awkward silence of slapping skin and wet squelching, along with the wildman, Ragnvaldr. She couldn’t hear the dark priest, Enki… t-though it wasn’t like she was listening for him or anything! Their voices were the only sound in this secluded, wooded area! D’arce could feel shame colouring her face, accompanied by a pounding in her temples. Her shame wasn’t only evident on her face, though… 

Even she isn’t immune to the calls of the flesh and worldly pleasures… Try as she might, no amount of prayer, introspection, or sheer willpower could cool the flames of her desire for one man and one man alone… the man that she has given her life to, the man that has captured her heart, mind, body and soul… the man that makes even her feel the warmth and mind numbing pleasure that Sylvian graced to her human children should they feel the fires of love, passion and lust…  

Le’gard…  

D’arce bit the inside of her cheek as her mind began to wonder. Would he ever do those things to her…? Would he even want to do so? If he did… Her body trembled at the possibilities. She wasn’t well-versed in such… intimate affairs. No… D’arce hasn’t ever kissed a man before! Never in her life was she able to accurately depict exactly what a man and a woman would do during such moments… though she had certainly come close to the truth. 

What she saw earlier was still imprinted freshly in her mind. Naked bodies rubbing together, bumping and leaning over one another… A woman riding atop a man, a man kneeled before a woman, a woman straddling a man’s face as she goes down onto his- h-his…  

D’arce blinked rapidly, swallowing the saliva that pooled in her mouth. She… didn’t really understand what she saw then… So- So p-perhaps then- The valley between her thighs began to ache. Oh, does she dare to…? Would another small, tiny, q-quick little peek hurt? It wouldn't, r-right…? Her heart leapt into her throat as her ears throbbed as she clutched her hand over her racing heart. 

Just a quick look…  T-That’s all… 

Peering over her shoulder, D’arce tried to not bring too much attention to herself. Would they even notice her looking…? The thought of being caught doing something so… wrong sends a shiver down her spine that pools in her gut. No, they won’t know. No one will ever know… Especially n-not-  

Coherent thought was drowned out under the thunderous roar of her heart. Oh, it was so, so wrong… What they were doing was… was just disgusting! …yet D’arce couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from the debauched scene. How could the human body be accepting of such… acts were beyond her understanding… Though- No, no it wasn’t… was it? In the heat of watching the Sylvian bunnies copulating- while watching her companions copulate- D’arce found one of her hands drifting further south, away from her chest where her hands were originally clasped. 

She knew how- or at least through what means- that sex between a man and a woman took place. Grabbing a hold of the front of her trousers, D’arce rubbed and palmed at herself, doing her best to ignore the shame and guilt that threatened to rise to the back of her throat as she caught sight of Cahara pinning another man down by the back of his neck. 

If only Le’garde would do such a thing to her…  

Wouldn’t he be gentle, though…? Like… that fair haired man between the thighs of that brunette woman… He wouldn’t allow D’arce to want for anything… Le’garde would teach her everything that she needed to know, both as a lover and as a man. He wouldn’t force anything upon her… Le’garde would take good care of her, as any lover would…

D’arce’s fingers dug into the soft mounds of flesh of her pubic region. When she pinched and pulled just right… 

“Mmmm….”  

A pleasant shiver wracked her body. D’arce found her knees buckling and noises rising to the back of her throat as she replicated the movement once again. Shifting so that her shoulder rested against the tree, D’arce now had a much clearer view of the meadow’s orgy… Oh, as much as she wishes to deny it, she is only denying it to herself… D’arce will never admit this to any living soul- certainly never to Le’garde…- but she found herself enamoured with the ministrations and movements of the bunny mask wearing people as they made love to one another.

Merely rubbing against herself through thick cloth and leather won’t be enough to sate the hunger that burned in her core. D’arce needed more… She needed to imagine- She needed to feel what Le’garde would feel the moment he became one with her… With great effort, D’arce unbuckled her gauntlets and casted them to the ground. No one will notice a thing… They’re all too involved with one another to see her leering from afar with her filthy hand shoved down her breeches and wrist flicking and struggling with obscene gestures and movements… 

Her breath came out in a hot, steamy puff as it chilled in the air. The coolness of the wind did nothing to soothe the burning of her loins and secretly, under the shame and regret that settled heavily on her stomach, D’arce was glad it didn’t. Her bare, clammy fingers against her heated, moist slit was quite the contrast… Her warmth seeped into her aching joints at about the same time her fingers dipped into the folds of her sex. 

D’arce’s breath caught in her throat as she felt something deep within her ache upon the unfamiliar contact to her most intimate place… This must only be a fraction of what they are experiencing… She bit the inside of her cheek as she watched a bunny woman bounce atop of her stationary partner. What would that feel like…? Something long, hard and… a-and thick inside of her, stretching her wide and touching a part of her that not even she, herself has ever touched before… 

Slowly, D’arce pushed the tip of her middle finger inside of herself. There was a great deal of resistance as she did so, her muscles involuntarily clenched around her digit though, with some trial and error and a lot of self teasing, she managed to work her finger inside until she was nearly halfway in. 

“H-Haa… Ah-” 

It wasn’t exactly painful, though it wasn’t comfortable, either. Could this really be pleasurable after all…? D’arce mimicked the movements of one of the bunny women that was kneeling beside another masked woman. Her movements were much more precise, more smooth and seemed to have less resistance than what D’arce’s own body was producing, but still she persisted in her movements. For a few seconds, she nearly became frustrated, not achieving the end goal that she had envisioned… But after a few more moments-

“O-Ohh… yesss….” 

Wetness soaked around her digit, aiding her in sliding in and out of herself. Soon enough, D’arce was struggling anymore and instead had to keep herself from going too deep too quickly. She… She wasn’t ready… not yet… she only needed a little more-  

Boldly, she worked a second finger inside of herself, biting the back of her hand to prevent herself from crying aloud as she made love to herself. Oh… if this is anything like what they are experiencing…. 

Her soft walls were sore yet D’arce couldn’t stop herself from picking up her pace. Her eyes settled on a bunny man with long, chestnut brown hair that she could nearly mistaken for Le’garde. The woman on her knees before him had short, fair hair but D’arce had no trouble replacing herself with that woman. On her knees, with Le’garde behind her, his manhood i-inside…  

D’arce found herself on her knees, only partially hidden by the tree she originally took refuge behind. L-Like this… Like an animal- God, it was so wrong but she couldn’t stop herself now. Not when there was a cord inside of her that was becoming tighter and tighter every time she pressed her fingers against the roof of h-her-

“Oh-! Mhmph… Le’garde…”  

Her other hand found her hair. Gently at first, D’arce dug her fingers into her scalp and pulled up. Liking what she felt, she put more force behind it. She liked the thought of Le’garde pushing her onto her knees and taking what he wanted. She liked the thought of him grabbing her hips and pulling them towards his own and she liked the thought of him grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her slightly upright so he can look at the pathetic face that she was making, so he could hear the sounds and words coming out of her mouth- She wanted Le’garde to see how much he affected her and how he made her act like an animal in heat-!

“MMPH-!”  

It wasn’t the first time that D’arce had disgraced herself in this manner, but it was the first time that she had done so and felt something so… overpowering. Her mind went blank and her limbs went numb as jolts of pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn’t stop moving her fingers as wave after wave of intense feeling washed over her. Oh… Le’garde… Le’garde…! 

“....L-Le’garde…”  

D’arce curled into herself as tears welled in her eyes. She screwed her eyes shut, sniffling and nearly choking on her guilt and sorrow as she came down from her high. By Alll-mer… What did she do…? This… this was… 

Terrible.

Awful.

Disgusting.

Despicable. 

Unforgivable-

She didn’t bother putting her gauntlets back on before the others were finished with their little ‘break’. They didn’t ask why they were off, but Cahara made a jab at how utterly pathetic she looked upon their return. ‘What are you? Traumatized? Nothing bad happened while we were gone, did it?’ She couldn’t look up at any of them or respond in any way with anything more than a half hearted shrug. Enki made some snide comment about the ‘virgin knight’ being too good for the likes of them, to which both Ragnvladr and Cahara snickered quietly to themselves. 

Could D’arce even call herself a ‘virgin’ after what she just did…? God, if Le’garde knew what she did, what she thought- No. No, no he can never know. No one can ever know! She will take this to the grave! She must! She might already be tainted in some way… but she’ll never let him know. Not now, not ever… This is a shame that she will carry within her heart until the day she dies.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

[abysswalkerastraea1]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐧 | 𝙅𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙣 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

“𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚢, 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜.” - 𝟷𝟽:𝟹, 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚁𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

                                    𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 • 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Pairing: Jimin/F Reader [OT7 input] Word count: 9.3k Warnings: demon/devil, religious themes, paranormal, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, voyeurism, breeding kink, dirty talk, use of ‘whore’ often. Jimin focussed, but input from all seven of BTS.

a/n: hi so um this is unedited and probs littered with typos. i do not wish to undermine anyone’s beliefs or religion; this is simply fiction based off christian and catholic ideologies.

this is part two of two, so please read part one (linked above) if you so wish before. please enjoy.

                                “You’re the girl who brought the devil to his knees…”

Those words ran through your mind over and over again, day in and day out. They plagued you, made you feel dirty like you were some kind of harlot, a whore… You had tried to continue with normal life, to at least regain a sense of ordinary but your night with a demon – the king of demons – was constantly in the back of your mind.

He had disappeared quickly after your encounter, despite telling you he would never let you go. But you supposed that perhaps it was just one of many lies he may have told; how could you trust a serpent’s tongue? But honestly, deep in the pit of your soul, you knew he was still there. He never really left, because he had penetrated your thoughts and his roots had grounded themselves into your life.

Keep reading

[abysswalkerastraea1]

In Bloom (m)

Request fill for this prompt

Warning: Graphic wolf!Jungkook smut

Word Count: 11,589

Sequels: Lake of Fire pt 1 pt 2

You rush over to Jungkook’s place as soon as you get off work. The sun has almost completely dipped below the horizon at this point, and only a few crimson rays bleed through the inky black of the night. Your heart flies up to lodge in your throat as you bang on the door, but luckily, only a few seconds pass before he answers.

“___?” Jungkook mutters your name in astonishment when he opens the door to find you on his doorstep, “What are you doing here?”

“I heard that you were in trouble!” You pant, trying to catch your breath, “I rushed over as quickly as I could. Am I too late?”

Jungkook’s brow creases, “Who told you about this?”

“The other members of the pack,” you explain, “They said it was a wolf thing and I shouldn’t be too worried… But that you’d be out for three whole days? How could I not be worried?”

Jungkook sighs and steps aside in the doorway, “You might as well come in… You’re letting the cold air in.”

Confused you step inside and close the door behind you, “Jungkook, you look perfectly fine though. What exactly is going on?”

“The members were right,” he explains as he leads you down the hall to the bedroom, “It is nothing to worry about. It’s just a natural wolf thing that happens every year… But while you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful and help chain me up.”

You freeze in the doorway to his bedroom, startled by the impressive network of steel chains and cuffs piled on the bed, “Chain you up…? Jungkook are you sick? Is there something wrong with your transformation? What’s happening?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he interrupts your panicking, “I’m just going into heat soon.”

Keep reading

[abysswalkerastraea1]

Ooh ooh ohh. How about Sam taking care of horny drunk reader, and maybe in the morning Sam ~taking care of~ the reader 😏😏

Anything, Anything (Sam Drake x Drunk!Reader)

A/N: Oᴏᴏᴏʜ! I ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs! Sᴀᴍ's ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ – I'ᴍ sᴜʀᴇ – ɪs ʙᴏᴛʜ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ "ᴘʜʏsɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀғғᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ".. ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴇɴᴛᴀɪʟ.. I'm going to add my own little twist to this because y'all know I LOVE drama ;)

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: SMUT, SMUT SMUT! Sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴄᴀʀɪɴɢ Sᴀᴍᴜᴇʟ Dʀᴀᴋᴇ..

Nᴏᴛᴇs: Tʜᴇ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ɪs ᴅᴇғɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ Dʀᴀᴍᴀʀᴀᴍᴀ's sᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ. Eɴᴊᴏʏ!!

Tᴀɢs: @missdictatorme , @samdrakeftw , @marshmallow--3 , @unchartedterritoria , @tomsparkyr , @mellow-em , @the-drakeboys , @the-winchesterboys , @bapyess1r , @bluewingedangel

ᴡ.ᴄ.: ~5K

Sam was sprawled on his couch, slouching, a small rubik's cube in his hand, his fingers switching the colors on the little toy quickly and expertly, but his eyes glued to the TV in front of him that he turned on to try and keep himself awake. 

His fingers slowed down only when his eyes trailed up to look at the clock that read 2:45 A.M., and he let out a long, exhausted sigh, proceeding to aimlessly watch a stand-up comedy special, his fingers going back to fidgeting with the cube in his hands. 

On the coffee table in front of him, there were about five crushed cans of red bull and two mugs of coffee. His phone was also on there and he'd glance at it every so often to see whether or not he'd gotten any messages or calls from you. 

His exceptionally irresponsible roommate. 

Despite the fact that Sam adored a lot about having you as a roommate, he came to hate some of your habits. Especially when it was your "Girls' Night Out". The apartment would be all his from seven at night until ass o'clock; You'd just come back whenever you felt like it. 

And Sam would tend to you. Every night. He'd stay up and wait for you to come home and make sure you were alright, and then he'd go off to his own room after he'd tucked you in and would pass out.

He cared a lot about your wellbeing and – although he hated the state of you when you came back from those nights out – he thought that you earned them. You worked so hard and so much that Sam didn't think you were capable of having fun at all, until you proved him otherwise.

Still, though.. As he sat there, waiting for you to come stumbling through the door like you always have, he wished he could just doze off. Only for just.. a minute. It wouldn't hurt.. 

But the moment he closed his eyes, he heard the familiar rattling of keys outside the front door and he knew you struggled to see straight when you came back from those things, so, with an exasperated sigh and a small groan, he turned off the TV, pushed the rubik's cube into the deep pocket of his shorts, stood to his feet and ran a hand through his hair, then opened the door for you, watching as you stood straight with the most shit-faced smile he's ever seen on anyone. 

"Heyyy!" You slurred, giggling as you took steps towards someone who was relieved to see you, but dismayed that this was the state you were in.

"Yeah– Hi?" He raised an expectant brow, his arms crossed, "It's nearly three in the fucking morning."

Your brows scrunched and you pouted, barely able to keep your eyes open, "Aw.." You reached out, squishing his cheek in your fingers, "Don't be such a sourpuss..!" Your hand gently patted his cheek, to which he reacted by gently shooing it off.

"You look like shit." He told you. But he was lying. He thought you were so fucking cute. Slurring your words and your hair a proper mess and the straps on your dress dropping from your shoulders. It was all he could do not to scoop you up like a stray puppy and take care of you. 

"Nah, I look great.." You pushed him out of the way as much as you could, which wasn't very powerful, considering that you weren't even sure if there was just one Sam you were speaking to. From your point of view? You saw three Sams in front of you. 

You walked past him into the house, and – with a sigh – he gently shut the front door and locked it.

"Did you take a taxi home?" He asked, grabbing your forearm to pull you upstairs towards the bathroom.

"Hm? Oh, no! I got dropped off.."

He tried to keep a conversation going so you'd stay awake, "Who dropped you off?"

A silence followed, making Sam pause and look back at you with a raised brow.

"I.. don't know." 

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head and he took the first step up, your forearm still in his grip, "C'mon." He encouraged you, looking back at you and holding out his other hand so you'd find support, should you need it.

But you failed miserably. You put out your foot to take the first step and you nearly tripped forward with a yelp, but Sam quickly caught you in his arms while you giggled at your own antics.

He huffed, impatient, "Okay. Let's get this over with." With a groan, you were suddenly carried in his arms, bridal style. When he swooped you off your feet, a childish scream left you, and you continued to giggle as he went up the stairs.

"Oh, my goodness..!" You exclaimed, "So strong.." You hummed, reaching up with one hand to grab his face, squeezing his cheeks between your fingers, "And so darn cuuuuute.." You mumbled.

There it was.

This wasn't new to him. It was only a matter of time before you started doing other things you typically did when you were drunk. But he handled them well. He always has. Every time.

"You have such nice lips, Sam– Has anyone ever told you that?" 

"Mm-hmm. Yeah, actually." He finally finished his journey up the stairs and started to walk towards the bathroom.

Your fingers started to touch his lips, ghosting them, trailing across them, or having your thumb just pulling his bottom lip down, "Wonder what it'd be like to kiss you.."

He chuckled, "Keep wonderin', princess." He sat you down on the covered toilet, ignoring the pout on your face as he left the bathroom to go get you some clothes from the laundry basket. It only took him a few seconds, and – thankfully – you hadn't moved a muscle until he came back with a comfy pajama for you.

"Arms up." He ordered you, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face when your arms shot up. He started to pull your dress off of you and over your head, the silky fabric scrunching in his rough hands as he did. When it was finally off, he stood back and tilted his head at you, raising a brow at your intriguing choice of a matching lacy bra and underwear,

"Nice underwear." He nodded, "Were you expecting someone to take you home tonight?" He asked, turning away from you to turn on the shower and trying to hide his bitter tone of voice, though he was sure your drunk self would hardly notice any change in tone.

"Ugh.." You roll your eyes at him, "Why is your mind always in the gutter, Sam?" You were still slurring, but you still sounded annoyed. 

He smiled, "Says the girl who was just wondering what it'd be like to make out with me." He turned to you when he said that, his hands on his hips.

You stared at him through narrow eyes, "I don't wanna make out with you."

He got to his knees in front of you, his fingers hooking around the hem of your underwear, "No?"

"Nooo..!" You slurred, giggling, your hands supported on his shoulder as you lifted your hips a little so he could pull your panties down your legs, "No, silly, I wanna fuck you."

Sam froze, his eyes losing focus on the task at hand and, instead, just staring at the tiled floors. 

That was new.

He stayed silent for a couple of seconds, blinking, trying to process what you'd just said.

"..Interesting." He simply responded, quickly pulling your panties off and discarding them on the sink counter, "What else?" He asked, begging his mind to stay on track. Begging himself to understand that you were just drunk and you didn't mean any of that. That you never did. But he wanted to hear more because part of him found it amusing.

He pulled you closer, your chest now against his and his arms around your torso, his fingers working to undo your bra, which was done in the matter of seconds, "Y'know? I remember when you brought that one girl home.."

Sam stood up and helped you to your feet, "Which one?"

"The redhead."

"Oh." He pulled the shower curtain open and started to help you carefully step inside, "And?"

"I couldn't leave the house for you, but you took her up to your room. I remember..!"

He smirked as he sat you down on the stool in the tub. He knew where this was going. "Okay?"

You laughed lightly, "I was sitting downstairs but I could hear her screaming for dear life from your bedroom." You giggled at him, giving him one of your sneaky little looks, "Poor thing was like 'Oh, God, yes, Sam! Right there!'" 

Sam's face started to heat up as you started emulating the sounds his little redhead companion was making that day, "Okay– Alright– I get it." He grabbed your loofah and poured some of your shower gel on it.

When you calmed down from your fit of laughter, you sighed, "I remember wishing it was me who was screaming for you like that." 

That sentence hit him like a fucking eighteen-wheeler on a highway. 

That was new too.

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, then shook his head and focused on cleaning you up, and he decided to change the subject, "Do you feel like throwing up yet?" He asked, gently washing your back.

"I already did!" You responded, "A lot, actually. I think I threw up a little in the bushes outside.." You mumbled.

Sam cringed a little, then huffed, "Great.."

By the time Sam pulled you out of the shower, dried you up, and put you in your fresh clothes, you looked a lot better. 

He just sat you on the counter of the sink and stood between your legs, your toothbrush in his hand, scrubbing away at your teeth carefully.

"Open up." He instructed you.

With an 'Ahh' sound, you opened your mouth, almost making Sam chuckle as he scrubbed at your molars, "Atta girl.." He mumbled.

But when he said that, you looked at him. Just stared. And he caught you staring, so he stared right back for a couple of seconds, but waved away all the thoughts in his head and looked at your foamy mouth again, brushing your teeth a little more before pulling back, "Spit." He pointed at the sink, and then handed you a cup of tap water to rinse with, which you did without requiring any help from him.

You were fine enough to walk towards your bedroom with him, but still drunk enough to whine about the fact that you were going to sleep at all, "Do I have to?"

"Yep." He simply responded, opening the door to your bedroom and helping you lay on the bed, "Advil time…!" He feigned an excited expression as he pulled your drawer open, popping a pill out of its compartment before giving it to you with a bottle of water. 

You frowned up at him, childishly, snatching the water bottle from him and gulping down the pill he gave you, closing the water bottle and putting it on the nightstand when you were done.

He sat on the bed next to you, "Open your mouth." You obliged, "Move your tongue around." You did, rolling your eyes in the process, "Good job." He smiled, patting your cheek so you could close your mouth and stood to his feet again.

"I'm great at swallowing." You joked, wiggling your brows at him.

Sam's own brows shot up in surprise, "I'm.. sure you are." 

"You're no fun!" You yelled, "Won't you at least stay with me?" You stretched your arms and made grabby hands at him. And, God, nothing looked more inviting than your arms or just getting to lay his head on your chest and drift off next to you, but he shook his head. Like he always did.

"Maybe next time, doll." He bent down to leave a quick kiss on your forehead, turning away with his hand on the light switch, "Night."

You sighed and wiggled under the covers, "G'night.." You mumbled, your face already in your pillow.

Sam debated himself a little. Everything in him was telling him to stay with you, but his mind snapped him out of it and scolded him. So, in one swift movement, he turned off your light, shut your door, and jogged to his own bedroom, immediately hopping onto his bed with a long, relieved groan.

He rested his head back against the headboard, once again bringing his little rubik's cube out of his pocket and playing with it. 

He was thinking about you, of course. About what you said. Whether you meant it or not. Whether he should pursue anything at all with you. He needed a sign. Anything. Literally just any sign would be great–

And with one turn of the middle section of the cube, it was solved. The colors were uniform on all sides. He couldn't help but stare at it for a couple of seconds before putting it down on the nightstand, groaning and pulling a pillow over his face so he could go to sleep.

Eight hours later, you swung the door to your room open, dragging your feet outside to the hallway, groaning and rubbing your eyes, trying to get your vision straight. Maybe that'd fix your ugly headache. 

The whole house was quiet, save for the slight creaking of the parquet wood floors beneath your feet as you strutted – lazily – over to Sam's room. 

After taking a deep breath, you knocked twice and waited for a couple of seconds, hearing a groan from inside. You opened the door slowly and peeked your head inside, smiling a little sheepishly, seeing Sam sprawled on top of his bed, some parts of him covered with the sheets and others not. His leg dangled from the side of the bed and he hugged a pillow to his face.

You fully stepped into his room, closing the door behind you, your fingers fidgeting as you stood at the foot of his bed, "Sam?" You tilted your head.

You heard him take some measured breaths before he removed the pillow from his face and just laid there. 

You bit down on your lip, feeling awkward, "That bad, huh?"

He rubbed his temples, his eyes closed, "You can say that." He responded quietly. You then approached his side of the bed and sat next to him, patting his knee.

"Talk to me. How bad was it?" 

Sam took a moment to properly recollect himself and sat up with a groan. He seemed like he was avoiding all eye contact with you, and only focused down on his hands that he fidgeted with, "I mean.. you didn't puke all over me again, if that's what you're asking."

You laughed lightly, bringing your legs over the bed to cross them, "Okay, that's good."

He chuckled, but then went silent. "But, umm.. You did say some things."

Your face fell into your palms and you whined, "Oh, fuck me.."

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

The silence between you was loud. You removed your hands from your face and just stared at him, your look shifting from pure confusion to absolute, stark white horror. 

"Fuck off.." You said, incredulously, hoping– pleading that he was just kidding. But he looked straight at you, his lips pulled into a thin line and his expression clearly saying that he wasn't joking, "Nooo.." You whined again, "I'm so sorry, Sam."

"No, it's okay, I just–" He paused, trying to figure out what to say, and exhaled through his nose, "I just wish you didn't come back home so late."

"I know.. I'm sorry. But.. you really don't have to stay up for me." You told him, "I honestly don't know why you do what you do."

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw tightening. He didn't know whether you were acting stupid or if you were actually that oblivious to his efforts. Instead of saying anything, he stood up suddenly, "I'm gonna go."

"What?–"

He started to walk away from the bed but you grabbed his hand, "Wait! Why?!" 

"I have things to do."

"No, you don't; you literally told me you weren't doing anything all week." You tugged him to sit back down on the bed, which he did, softly bouncing off the mattress with a sigh, "What's up with you?" You softly asked, not noticing that your hand was still in his. 

But he did...

He glanced down at your hands, then looked at you again, "If I'd done anything, you can just say it.." You told him, looking up at him with those doe eyes and that sad and concerned expression..

And here he was, thinking he was too old to be crushing that hard.

But what was he supposed to say? That he's absolutely obsessed with you? That he cares so much about you that he can't stand the thought of you going out on a date with someone else? That he's been doing everything in his power to try to shake you off him so he'd lose feelings? 

How the fuck was he supposed to say any of that? 

He shook his head slowly, his hand gently squeezing yours, "Nah.. You're good, princess." 

Princess.

That nickname made you inhale sharply every time he said it. Especially when he said in that low, rumbling tone. 

"You sure?" You asked. 

Sam bit down on his bottom lip while his eyes flickered down at your lips and then back up into your eyes. 

Whatever came over him was a kind of bravery that he hasn't come face-to-face with since forever. But it pushed him to cup the side of your neck and pull you in to kiss you. 

The only way you reacted is with a surprised noise, followed by a sigh of – what sounded like – relief. Like– Finally. He was kissing you. And he initiated it. And he was passionate and fierce and commanding and dominating and you were losing your mind.

He's your roommate. Your best friend, even. But you couldn't help but return the kiss because you'd wondered for so long how it'd be like to kiss him. To feel his hands sneak up your bare back under your top. For his teeth to softly sink into the plumpness of your bottom lip as he pulled away, only for a second, before pressing his lips against yours again.

Your arms snaked around his neck as he pulled you further into his bed, laying you down, never parting his lips from yours. 

Sam resorted to giving you small pecks on the lips, and then looked into your eyes for reassurance, to which you just..  smiled and reached up to stroke his cheek with your thumb. You might've thought that you looking up at him like that wasn't really anything to note. But it was powerful. Like a siren's mischievous beckoning. And he was but a simple man. 

You pulled him down towards you again, your heart beating so furiously that he could feel it against his own chest. And when he was through with kissing you, his lips moved to your jaw and then your neck, where he marked your skin with blooming reds and bruised pinks and purples, encouraged by the soft sounds that left your parted lips and your fingers that were tangled in his hair.

The two of you were fast. So needy and rushed. Like you only had a limited amount of time to explore one another however you wanted. 

So it didn't really take him much time to dispose of your pajama shorts, along with your panties and lay on his side next to you, grinning from ear to ear when he saw you open your legs wide for him.

"Look at you.." He whispered, lips pressed against your ear as his fingers stroked up and down your soaking folds, making you whine and throw your head back, "So wet for me.." His voice was a deep, delicious rumble, causing your insides to quake at its power.

He wasted no time and pushed his forefinger into your pussy, his teeth gently tugging at your earlobe as your body shivered, and he started pumping his digit, in and out, his thumb circling your clit slowly. 

You mewled and moaned and sunk your head back into the mattress and your teeth into your bottom lip, your brows melting into an desperate arch as he pressed soft, quick kisses against the hot skin of your cheek. His middle finger soon joined his forefinger, and he started unraveling you, quickly and tirelessly. 

Your hand gripped his strong forearm, nails digging into his flesh, feeling the lean muscles underneath clench and relax with the movement of his fingers inside of you, his thumb rough and unrelenting against your clit and your moans and pleas getting louder by the second.

Your body seized up. Every muscle tensed and you held your breath. And then you were shaking violently, your body writhing and back arching off the bed, but Sam continued to finger you as you came undone, leaving kisses against your jaw to help you calm down from your orgasm.

When he was done, he pulled his fingers out of you and you immediately turned his head towards you to kiss him, feverish and hungry and itching for more of him. He obliged and started rolling on top of you, tongues rolling against each other and teeth clashing lightly and lips molding passionately. 

Sam cupped your cheek like you were precious. A prized possession of his. Someone he wouldn't ever let go. Someone he wanted to let the world know was his and his only. 

Apart from the hickeys he left, peppered across your throat and right over your pulse point, he wanted more. He wanted you to remember who was yours and who you belonged with. He wanted you to remember him, every time you sat down and felt that dull ache between your legs. 

So he made quick work of his sweatpants and t-shirt. It took him seconds. He was grinning when your hands felt all over his abs and chest as he leaned down towards you again, going back to kissing you with that same, unyielding fire, his very soul alight with the soft touch of your hands against the skin of his shoulders.

Your heart was beating furiously. Even more so as he pushed your legs apart and reached between the two of you, knowing full well what he was about to do. 

The moment he stopped teasing you with his tip and completely pushed himself inside of you, you pulled away from the kiss and let out a sharp gasp, followed by a prolonged whine and the tightening of your grip on his shoulders.

He could only drop his head against your shoulder and try to remember how to breathe properly. A whispered, weak "Fuck" escaped his parted lips, the word shattering against your skin in the form of a hot, exhaled air. 

Your toes curled and uncurled as you tried to adjust to him, legs already trembling as you tried to wriggle and writhe gently underneath him, pulling a few grunts and moans from him as he patiently waited for you to give him the green light.

And you did. You tapped him twice on his upper arm, and he pulled his head back from your shoulder to look down at you. He was only about to ask if it was okay for him to move, but you beat him to it:

"C'mon.." You panted, "Move, baby, please.." 

Baby.

Oh, lord.

He started by completely pulling out of you, carefully watching your face as he did. Your brows furrowed and your lips parted for a sigh to escape. He slammed back into you, full force. The power of it made you jerk back a little. He saw the way your jaw dropped and your eyes lit up with fireworks before they rolled back to close, a sudden moan being ripped from your throat.

He did it again. Watching your face so closely. 

And again.

And again.

And he began to thrust into you, starting at a good pace, but with brutal power that had you jerking, back and forth, with every single thrust. It was like every time he pumped into you, your brain got rattled a little. You couldn't think straight. Everything was getting jumbled. Even the words of praise that attempted to leave your mouth, only coming out as desperate moans and mewls and – often – you enunciated his name.

He picked up speed. He was powerful, hungry – starved even – and fast. It was delightful. He couldn't control himself. He pounded you into the mattress, pulling away from you to push one of your legs back, angling himself in a way that made your breath hitch and your hands grip the sheets before your moans got louder and your voice shook with the power of his thrusts.

"Oh, f– fu–ck!" You gasped, throwing your head back as he fucked you in such a way that you felt him in your throat. And he didn't just stop at mercilessly drilling you, he brought his fingers to your lips and – just like he wanted you to – you swirled your tongue around his calloused fingers. He grinned and pulled his hand back, only to latch the very fingers that you licked onto your clit, rubbing you quickly from side to side, his pace unrelenting.

He could see you practically struggling for air. He saw you pull his covers over your mouth to bite into and muffle your moans, but he pulled them back, wanting to hear every sound that left you. Every sound he drove out of you. 

But the sounds you drove out of him? Oh, lord. He was all kinds of animalistic. He groaned and grunted from the bellows of his chest. It was befitting the speed and power he took to completely dishevel you. 

"Fuck– Yes!– Sam!" You yelped, "I'm so– so fucking–" A moan ripped from you as you felt that familiar knot tightening suddenly, "— I'm close!" 

He nodded quickly, "That's right, princess, let it go." He encouraged you, turning his head to the side to kiss your leg that was resting on his shoulder, "Cum for me, doll. I wanna see your pretty little face while you cum." 

The way he spoke to you made you dizzy. You couldn't deal with that burning heat in your lower abdomen anymore. It was starting to get painful. But it was so delicious at the same time. 

With a few, violent thrusts from Sam's hips and a flick of his finger against your clit, you came undone. At first, your jaw only dropped and you didn't make a sound, but then, your orgasm rippled through you in another wave and you screamed out Sam's name, gasping for air and trying to fight that incredible feeling off of you.

It was so overwhelming. Your headache was all forgotten about and was replaced by a mind-numbing pleasure that you've never been acquainted with before... until he dragged you to his bed. 

You moaned a couple more times as his thrusts got more desperate, a slew of curse words spilling from his mouth along with a string of encouragement filling his ears from your sweet lips aided him towards his orgasm that hit him so hard, he instantly felt himself about to give out and collapse, but he stayed buried inside of you, filling you up with warmth.

He let out a final moan, his head spinning and his head dropping to your shoulder again as you both held each other and tried to catch your breaths in the suddenly very humid room.

Lord.

If only Sam had that much courage, huh? 

If only he could take you on his bed the way he wanted to.

But he sat there, next to you, looking into your eyes after you asked him whether or not he was sure if he was okay, debating himself on what to do– what to say. 

A small sigh escaped his nose and he forced a smile and his finger came up to playfully flick your nose, making you flinch a little.

"I'm okay." He nodded, "Promise."

You took a couple of seconds. Something in him hoped that you didn't believe a word out of him. And you didn't. But instead of pressuring him, you smiled at him and nodded, patting his knee gently.

"Right, then." You stood to your feet, "I'm gonna make you a big greasy breakfast as a token of my gratitude." You told him as you backed away towards his door, "Feel free to join me."

He grinned and winked at you, "I'll be down in a sec." 

You smiled at him, your eyes lingering on him for a couple more seconds before you backed away into the hallway, and he watched you disappear as you took the stairs down.

His smile immediately dropped and he laid back into his bed, staring at the ceiling.

When was he going to stop being this way and just grow a pair?

[abysswalkerastraea1]

panty stealer 2

DATE: JULY 12, 2023

summary: after the forbidden and surprising night of the ‘break-in’, you couldn’t get your mind off of peter. luckily, he couldn’t either, and finds his way back into your bedroom to invite you to a party.

requested: so many times yes!

words: 11.2k!! woah

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral, masturbation, vibrator], praise kink, degrading kink, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, mentions of marjuana/alcohol, and fluff

note: this was the most anticipated and loved of all my writings! i’m so thankful for everyone who liked part 1, i just had to write a part 2. enjoy!!! sorry if the gif is all weird again

—

so many thoughts flew through peter’s mind as he swung through the streets of massachusetts: what homework or projects he might have, you, class, praying flash doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s gone, you, hoping ned doesn’t have a panic attack from flash’s idiocy, and you you you.

he thought of your body and the way it felt underneath him while he pushed himself deep inside of you. and the whimpers you let out as you came. and the sound of your laughter through the palm of your hand. and the smile on your face as he kissed your forehead. he wished he had kissed you longer. he wished he had stayed longer. forever.

was that dramatic? maybe.

you were a recurring thought that never seemed to cease from his brain.

peter sees you around school sometimes—only on the days you two have class together. neither of you made an effort to approach the other, almost as if you expected the other person to do it first. you both sat far apart from each other, too afraid to move seats around and make it obvious. but peter’s gaze fell heavily over your shoulder too many times for you to not feel it.

every time you shifted around to face the back of the room, you watched him avert his wandering eyes to anywhere but you. it made you smile and giggle quietly behind your hand, and of course peter’s hearing picked up on the angelic sounds, causing his heart to skip against his ribs.

and then class would begin and you’d have to wait until next class to see him again.

peter wanted to go see you—talk to you. he really did. but he was so busy with school work and being spider-man that he didn’t have a night off. mid-terms were coming up, but that also meant thanksgiving break was in the rear view mirror. after halloween of course.

in college, halloween was like any other day. you didn’t get a day off to trick-or-treat and hang out with your friends. instead, you were given a pile of tests the week before.

not much of a treat, huh?

outside of college, however, people threw the best parties that night. one of those people obviously being peter. luckily, halloween was on a saturday, so everyone would be done with mid-terms and ready to party their asses off.

flash needed everyone and their mom to come for him to be satisfied (well, maybe not their moms). he’s going to blow up everyone’s phone telling them to invite every person they know. peter didn’t care who showed up. he knows that halloween is one of the biggest parties of the year (besides fourth of july). peter only wanted—no needed—one person to be there.

—

knowing it’s been weeks since he’s seen you and the party was only in a few days, peter had to come and see you. he had to make sure you got the invite. it was difficult to fit visiting you into his schedule, but like always, he made it work.

you were becoming important to him, a priority.

he would only be in and out because who knows what would happen if peter was caught in there? last time, flash got his car hit with a baseball bat. flash was so mad that he completely forgot about peter’s dare, even though it was the whole point of sneaking into the house. it was deserved, but peter didn’t want any of that happening to him. so, peter promised himself no funny business unless you were in his room.

ugh, but peter really didn’t want you around the frat boys. they were way too much.

the sky was pitch black besides the hint of stars that were sprinkled in the sky. it was a chilly, fall night that made peter want to cozy up and pass out in his bed. but he had more important things to do first.

after a boring night of patrol, peter sneaks into his room through his opened window. without making too much noise (unlike flash), he quietly changes out of his suit and packs it into his closet in a box labeled books. peter is certain that no one, especially flash, would ever open that box. so he fixes his appearance by adjusting his shirt in the mirror, checking his teeth, and messing with his wild hair. on impulse, he throws on a cap to better hide himself. with that, he jumps out his window once again, shutting it closed on his way down with his sticky fingers.

like he’s done once before, peter sneaks across the street to the forbidden sorority house. he stares at the windows; all darkened bedrooms, except for one. peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that single lit bedroom was yours, but he was willing to test his luck.

for you.

peering at his surroundings, peter flips his hat backwards and slowly crawls up the side of the house. his fingers latch onto the windowsill as he very slowly lifts his head over it. he notices that it’s slightly cracked open before his gaze is seering through the glass.

you have got to be fucking joking.

your body lays sprawled across your bed as a delicate hand wanders between your parted legs and slides your infamous panties to the side. your torso is covered in the same mit t-shirt from that night, draped over your lavish figure tantalizingly. a laptop plays a pornographic scene of some sort, headphones plugged in one ear.

god, he wanted to touch you so bad.

he wondered if you were thinking of him. recalling how his fingers caressed down your body and how they touched every inch of your skin. but you couldn’t be, right? it’s been weeks and peter hasn’t made a move. you’ve probably moved on from that night like nothing happened. peter should probably go, leave you alone during such an intimate time—

“mm, peter,” your angelic voice hums a quiet moan that was only loud enough for peter’s hearing. peter feels his cock twitch needily at your noises, hissing to himself as you whimper his name. “feels so good.”

well, that’s just like a goddamn invite.

using every skill he has learned from being spider-man, peter yanks open the window and creeps inside. you were too emerged in your fantasies; eyes screwed closed as you listened attentively to the ongoing video. you failed to notice peter’s looming presence over your bed, even with only one headphone in. your noises continued, spurring peter’s next actions on.

without saying a word, peter lays his hand over yours, which is rubbing cute circles over your clit. your movements freeze and your eyes fly open. your mind doesn’t register the sight before you, so your breathing stops and your lungs get ready to scream out every millimeter of oxygen in you. but peter slips his other hand over your mouth before you could alert the entire neighborhood of his presence.

peter could sense the erratic beating of your heart as your tense muscles very gradually soften once you realize it’s him. once you’ve calmed down enough to not scream, you take your free hand and lower peter’s from your mouth.

he came back.

“p-peter, i didn't know you were coming,” you weren't sure what to say. your mind was still spinning like a top toy and your heart was beating like a galloping horse. your skin was burning underneath him, full of embarrassment and immense desire. “a head’s up would have been nice…”

“i’m sorry for the interruption…” peter says, eyes dragging down your body. his hand moves above yours gradually. you inhale sharply as peter guides your hand.

“you don’t seem sorry,” you retaliate as the friction from your hand with the help of peter’s begins to rile your body up again. you feel the wetness seep from your cunt, aching and needy for more. for more of him.

“how come you’re so wet?” peter completely ignores you, and removes your hand from your pussy with a gentle toss. peter didn’t expect anything tonight, but he especially didn’t expect to find his little angel with her hands between her legs. you gasp when his fingers are directly touching you, instantly clenching around nothing. his fingers are a bit chilly, in contrast to your flamy skin. “is it from the video?”

“n-no,” you stutter between needy pants as his fingers threaten to sink into your pulsing hole. your legs spread wider for him, inviting him closer to you. you slam the laptop down with shaky fingers to show him that you no longer need it.

“then what’s got you so wet?” two fingers dip into your cunt to persuade you to talk, but it’s doing the opposite. you bite your lip to hide the traitorous moan that threatens to escape. heavy arousal coats your labia while he pumps in and out of you easily, waiting for an answer.

“i was thinking of you,” you admit, hips rolling into his touch greedily. “wondering if you’d ever come back.”

peter’s heart saddens at the thought of you waiting for him. this whole time peter assumed you forgot about him, when in reality, it was the exact opposite. and there was sticky evidence to prove it.

“i’m right here, angel. what were you thinking about?” his body leans down hovering over yours, causing your body to sink into the mattress.

“thought about you climbing through the window, just like you did. imagined you’d fuck me, like you promised,” you moan quietly between words, trying to sound cohesive. hearing you say such vulgar words has peter’s cock twitching in his pants. with peter, you weren’t afraid to be straight to the point and tell him what you want. peter admired that, and would probably do anything you asked him to.

“with time, i’m a man of my word, baby.”

close and personal, peter interlocks his lips with yours. your frolicking hands drift to his warm neck, caressing the nape as you melt into him. peter inserts a third finger into you, eliciting a muffled moan against his lips. the action opens up your mouth and allows peter to effortlessly glide his tongue inside.

his fingers ram into you at a deliriously fast pace, causing your mind to haze into a euphoric state. it was impressive how peter could be kissing you unforgettably, but also skillfully pleasuring you with his hands. peter seemed like a man full of secrets and skills that you were dying to know.

who is peter parker?

fogging up your mind, your muscles tense and your back continues to arch until your stomach is touching his. your legs threaten to close from the overwhelming pleasure from his fingers, but you battle to keep them wide. his mouth trails down your neck and attacks the sensitive skin below your ear. teeth digging into your lip, you withhold all of your noises that peter so desperately wants to hear.

“if we were alone, you wouldn’t be allowed to be quiet,” he husks in your ear before trailing further down your neck. his voice was every level of attractive, pushing you closer to the edge. peter continued to check off all of your invisible boxes of turn ons.

“i know,” your voice was delicate and strained, and peter could tell you were close.

your walls gripped his fingers eagerly, and your stomach tightened up. it was embarrassing that you were so close so fast, but you couldn’t hold it any longer. once his fingers curled one last time inside of you, you were a goner.

“come for me, baby,” he demanded quietly, so you did.

your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, drenched in blissful euphoria. peter worked you through your high by softly rubbing your legs and coaxing every last drop out of you until you were sensitive to the touch.

without having to ask, peter lowers himself to your mound and yanks your panties down and off your legs. he then cleans up your mess with his skillful tongue, licking and slurping all of your juices. your sensitivity causes you to be squirmy, but he’s done before you know it and then you’re left reminiscing.

although he was right in front of you, you missed his touch already. you missed him inside of you because it made you feel connected, intertwined. you didn’t want him to leave you again for weeks and come back on a random week day. or even worse, never again at all. you hoped that it didn’t become a pattern because you were getting attached to him, whether you liked it or not (you did), and that wasn’t a healthy pattern to be attached to.

peter’s body hovers over yours once again, held up by his muscular arms. your eyes attach to every detail on his face, admiring and memorizing his features in fear that he’ll leave again. he gazes at you like a living daydream, ethereal underneath him. one of his hands caresses your supple cheek, lightly swiping away your frisky hair. you practically purr into his touch, melting at his gentleness.

“peter,” you start, voice as fragile as thin glass.

“y/n.”

“please, don’t leave,” you insist in a whisper, hoping he’d stay. but you know he can’t.

“you know i can’t,” he says as you begin to sit up. see?

“when will i see you again? you can’t just… show up at any time,” you huff, sitting up straight as peter takes a seat beside you.

“i know i know…” peter thinks for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “here. you can put your number in my phone.”

your heart skips a simple beat. you extend your arm to snatch your phone on your nightstand before hesitatingly grabbing peter’s. you switch devices and enter your numbers. you label your name as ‘y/n :)’ and then you trade back phones, but don’t look at them.

“c’mere,” peter says and you curl your body into his. his warmth was addicting and cozy, and could easily make a great pillow for the future. “i’m sorry for not coming back sooner. i’ve been pretty busy with… everything i guess. i should’ve told you.” with your head cradled in his chest, he kisses your rumpled hair genuinely.

a sweet apology. could he get any better? is he just a figment of my imagination?

you lift up your head so you could see him looking down on you. “apology accepted, parker. but i feel like i’m being manipulated with your kisses.”

“how was i supposed to know you’re a sucker for forehead kisses?”

“everyone is a sucker for forehead kisses!” you whisper yell causing him to laugh wholeheartedly as quiet as possible. he kisses your head a few more times, making your heart full of affection and care.

how did you get lucky enough for peter parker to fall into your life? or more specifically, break into your house on two accounts?

“you never fulfilled your promise,” you said, referring to him having sex with you. don’t misunderstand, you were very grateful for what he gave you, but to be direct… you were greedy, needy, and missed his dick.

no time for beating around the bush.

“like i said, with time, i’m a man of my word,” which, in other words, means he’s not having sex with you. tonight, at least. you can’t help the small frown that appears on your lips.

“how much time? a girl has needs, you know,” you rose your eyebrows and pointed towards the closed laptop. peter puffed under his breath, causing you to smirk.

“there is a party this saturday… at my place. you should come,” peter informs.

“should i come or do you want me to come?” it was a test.

“if this is some sexual innuendo, yes—”

“jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, peter!” you roll your eyes and softly shove his chest, but a smile never ceases from your face. that only causes him to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you harder against his firm body.

he must live at the gym.

“you started talking about sex first!”

he’s not wrong.

“of course, i want you to come to the party, y/n,” peter smiles as his eyes wandering over every inch of your face. in any other scenario, gorging eyes would’ve made you feel insecure, but peter’s made you feel all flushed and tingly. “you’re the only person i want to be there.”

your smile enlarges even more and a rush of heat crawls up your neck. instead of kissing his lips for being such a romantic goofball, you decide to pull off his backward cap and kiss his forehead. the rosy blush that cascades his pale cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed.

“see! everyone likes forehead kisses!”

just as you say those words, peter hears footsteps padding across the hallway. he really didn’t want to leave you again, but he also really didn’t want to get caught. he sighs and you notice his change of demeanor, causing another frown to arise on your lips.

“you have to go, don’t you?”

“i’m sorry—”

“it’s okay. i’m glad you came. i’ll see you on saturday,” you smile genuinely and kiss his forehead again. he smiles, but catches your luscious lips instead. peter almost forgot about the footsteps, always lost in the moment with you.

he is obsessed with kissing you.

however, the moment is too short for both of your liking. peter struggles to pull himself away from you, but does because each footstep in the hallway is like a warning. with a finally kiss to your forehead, peter smiles endearingly before approaching your window, ready to jump out.

“oh, and peter?” as his hands are on the window, he turns around to look at you. “don’t forget these.”

you fling your panties at him and his quick reflexes have no problem catching them. you take his hat that he left on your bed and lay it on top of your head. peter cannot describe the fond feeling that bubbles up in his chest at the sight of you in his apparel. he’s sure he would die seeing you in his clothes if he’s starstruck from you in his cap.

a familiar heated flush blossoms on his cheeks as he lightly shakes his head with a few chuckles.

“you’re ridiculously cute,” is the last thing he says before he slides out the window and jumps down onto the ground.

ridiculously cute. you’ve never been called that before. are you surprised that you like it a lot? nope.

you still don’t understand how he doesn’t break a few limbs from jumping out of a two-story house, but again, that’s just one of the many things he’s skillful at. you wondered what else he was capable of. like you said, he seemed like a man full of secrets. some people thought of curiosity as a curse, but you saw it as a pathway to unknown opportunities.

not even a minute after peter left, there’s a knock at your bedroom door. you answer, skeptical, and one of your friends walks in.

“i know we’re not allowed to have any guys here, so you get kind of lonely, but when you’re watching porn at midnight can you please turn it down? i could hear it at the end of the hall,” she rubs her eyes and elicits a yawn. your eyes widen and you swallow thickly at the idea of the entire house hearing you.

you really thought you did a good job at being quiet…

“uh, yeah, sure thing,” you half smile as you apologize and wish her a better goodnight. you flick your lamp off and shift comfortably on your bed.

you gaze at the ceiling and imagine peter’s face above yours. you envisioned his lips, his cute nose, and each precious beauty mark on his face. it was easier to fall asleep knowing what his phone number was, and that saturday was only three days away.

—

those three days could not have been longer. the party was your motivation to wake up every day and go to class, eager as ever. you only saw peter once at school and that was not enough to satisfy the yearning you had inside of you. that yearning was also like an alarm clock that sprung you out of bed at eight a.m. on saturday.

you knew you had hours to waste, so you did all the things you had been procrastinating on: laundry, tidying up, few assignments due next week, and you even dusted parts of the house. yeah, you were that bored.

you weren’t sure what time the party started, but you would probably be able to tell from your window. you had no idea what you were going to wear even though you were thinking about it since wednesday. you believed you had a good sense of style, at least to your liking, but you don’t have all the clothes that you wish you had. living on a college budget wasn’t easy, but you made do.

at this point, it was only two in the afternoon, and you were about to run into the wall until your head was bleeding just to waste more time. this was the downside to having a ridiculously big crush on someone; the inescapable waiting. when crushing, time seems prolonged when you’re without them. but when you’re with them, the world seems to stop completely. it’s like nothing matters but just you two.

you remembered back to wednesday when peter was sitting on your bed and holding you snug against his body while you talked about such a mundane thing like a party invite. you could never erase the feeling of his kiss, his lips forever etched onto yours. the kiss felt like hours, but it was merely a minute before he had to pull away. you imagined what it would be like to just be with him without worrying about anything else. these daydreams cause the yearning in your chest to expand like a balloon, which is never going to satisfyingly explode until you’re in his arms again.

without making a big deal out of it, you needed a good outfit. so, you knocked on one of your “sister’s” doors. you weren’t a fan of the term “sorority sisters,” especially because none of these girls felt like sisters to you. yes, you were all decent friends who went to parties and went out to eat once a month together. but you weren’t as close to them as you were with your friends back at home. you missed them, but you’ve all moved on with your lives.

violet answers with a cheery come in and you walk into her room. you hint that you’re looking for a nice dress for the party tonight.

“i’m glad you came to me first,” she smiles as she stands up from her bed. she heads toward her closet, which is practically pouring out clothes that would laugh at yours. she had so many colors and choices, it was almost overwhelming and you weren’t even the one really choosing. “so. who’s the guy?”

“what? who said anything about a guy?”

“the fact that you want a nice dress for a frat party. you’ve never cared before, so it has to be a guy. so who is it?”

“it’s no one in particular,” you lie easily as you sit on her bed. she sifts through each dress in deep thought.

“so, you want a nice dress to catch any guy’s attention? i don’t buy it,” violet shakes her head, causing her long, black hair to wave.

not that you really care if she believes you, but what’s a believable lie? you know she’ll probably nag you about it the entire night if you don’t give her a valid excuse.

“if i’m being honest, i’m trying to, you know,” you raise your eyebrows high, motioning your hands as she whips around to face you. she nods as a knowing smirk grows on her lips. you weren’t technically lying–you did want to get laid, but you only had one person in mind that could do the job.

“i see. that’s all you needed to say,” she flips through more dresses before pulling out a short red one that makes your eyes widen. it looked nice, too nice, and you didn’t want to ruin anything she had because you’d probably spend the next few months paying to replace it. “let’s get you ready.”

“but the party is in–”

“nuh uh, we’re getting ready now. also, we’re making it into a costume.”

–

for once, you’re glad you listened to violet about getting ready early because it was already six o’clock by the time you guys were both finished. you somehow gave in to the idea of her dolling you up into some kind of sexy spider woman? you didn’t really know. she thought the red and blue accented your skin nicely. violet did what she wanted. you didn’t even plan on wearing a costume in the first place, so you didn’t really mind.

your hair was down and wavy. you had her short red dress on and white fishnet tights. she also gave you royal blue heels. she painted black webs on your eyes with eyeliner while you wore a matching red lipstick. it was a lot more than you expected to see on yourself when you looked in her vanity mirror. hopefully, the look is as attractive and alluring as violet says it is. meanwhile, violet dressed as “slutty catwoman” (her words, not yours).

and yes, violet was going. everyone at mit would be going. it was one of those annual parties that's been going on for years, even before your class was there.

you enjoyed that; traditions and routines. they created memories and showed the change through each generation. thinking back, you bet your ancestors would die of a heart attack if they saw the way you were dressed and the things people did at these parties. but none of those thoughts stopped you from leaving the sorority house and walking across the street to the frat party.

you hadn’t even walked in yet, and the music was booming throughout the neighborhood. through the blinds that failed to close, you could see the technicolor lights flashing in redirection. cars of every shade were parked for probably miles down the street, and you knew as the night went on the number of people would only increase.

violet walked in front of you, strutting through the door like she owned the place. you followed behind her almost cowardly, but you weren’t really looking for everyone’s attention anyway. just one.

however, you forgot that the whole reason violet believed you were wearing this dress in the first place was for that exact reason. so, when she realized your shyness, she turned around and shook all your nerves out of you. literally. she shook your shoulders until you were woozy and nearly stumbling over your heels (you are now wishing you wore sneakers). it was like you were already tipsy by the time she was done.

she dragged you towards the kitchen without any words, seeming as though you wouldn’t be able to hear them over the blaring music and loud chatter. bottles of liquor decorated the marble countertop along with blue and red solo cups, trashed like a 90’s high school movie. violet grabbed the first bottle she saw, pouring the dark liquid into a cup she somehow snagged.

“your turn,” she shoves the bottle and cup towards your body as a stranger bumps into you from the back. the place was getting packed, making it hard to find anywhere to breathe. “some liquid courage.”

“i’m okay. i will later, though,” you rejected, not liking the idea of being drunk when you had a goal in mind. by the end of the night, you really wanted to be in peter’s bed. but you hated the idea of being drunk while having sex, especially when you wanted to enjoy it. you only indulged in drunk sex when you really needed to get off and one; didn’t want to remember what happened, or second; didn’t want it to last longer than that night. mostly the latter.

you know what it feels like to be with peter, and you craved to feel like that again. just thinking about him made you feel a thousand different kinds of wonderful; heart racing, stomach swirling, core burning. you knew the second you found him it would be hard to keep your hands away.

–

peter finally decides to shuffle down his stairs for the first time tonight. when the roaring music began an hour ago, he knew the party had, too, but he didn’t feel like going down yet. he couldn’t help but peek out his blinds in his bedroom, waiting to see you crossing the street.

he swears he was in his bedroom for at least an hour, occasionally peeking out the window, impatiently waiting for your arrival. with a slight frown on his face, he realizes that you might not be coming.

why would you?

peter assumed that you just now noticed how creepy it was for him to sneak into your bedroom. twice. maybe all your smiles and kisses were just silent pleads to make him leave the room faster. but your laugh seemed so genuine, and the sweet, little noises that you muffled under your palms were from real pleasure. right?

you were moaning his name.

he imagined you strutting across the street in a jaw-dropping dress, one that would send him into a frenzy. but you would be too humble and would shrug it off like you were the most average person on earth. peter would scoff and take you into his arms and drag you up into his room. then he would admire you until you believed you were the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.

open mouth kisses etched on your naked body. bites and pinches of tease. your sweet hums and delicately broken moans. nails clawing into his tough skin greedily. his voice guiding and praising you while yours is disheveled in pleasure.

god, he’s so in his head. he’s so far gone. and he barely knows you.

like a daydreaming idiot, he slaps the side of his head a few times to get his brain back into reality. he stares at his appearance in the mirror, silently motivating himself to have a good night whether or not you show up.

taking a deep breath, he finally exits his bedroom. of course, the music is booming and the place is already as crowded as a concert. peter trails down the stairs, but stops midway when he sees the top of your head.

is that you? how did he miss you?

moving swiftly down the steps, he weaves his way through the crowd, his fake glasses nearly slipping down his face. multiple people try to stop and chat with him, but he doesn’t indulge for long, having a clear destination in mind.

but, just when he reaches the kitchen, you’re gone.

he swears he just saw you. maybe he’s going crazy.

releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, peter pushes through a few more bodies before reaching the sliding glass door. he squeezed himself outside and inhales. when you’re in a house full of sweaty, drunk people smoking weed, you become more grateful for the fresh air.

he removes his glasses and tucks them into his neckline. his eyes gaze at the backyard’s minuscule decorations, and then to the sky. he stares at the stars as they wink at him, reassuring that everything will be alright. he wishes that the town won’t need saving tonight and that everyone will be on their best behavior. he hopes that you’ll come to the party, even if it doesn’t end with you in his arms.

even though that’s all he really wants.

“peter?” a voice speaks, and the sound was so elegant and soft that he thought the stars themselves were talking to him. he forces himself to blink a few times before spinning around to face you.

he nearly faints when he sees your costume.

short red dress, white tights, blue heels, black webs. you were dressed as spider-man, or spider girl, and you looked absolutely fucking stunning. you would be the death of peter. seriously, he thinks he might pass out from lust and admiration looking at you. you were just so drop-dead gorgeous, he couldn’t believe it.

maybe the stars were on his side tonight. unless they wanted to kill him…

“are you okay?” your soft voice of concern walks straight up to him, delicate hand resting on his shoulder.

“y-yeah,” peter stutters before coughing. is it surprising that he’s already half hard? a small blush cascades his pale cheeks. “you look… really fucking good.”

there’s no dancing around it.

now, familiar heat warms your neck, cheeks, and ears at his compliment. his voice was low, so only you could hear it over the screaming music, and it was laced with a small growl that had your stomach flipping. your hand fell from his shoulder.

“thanks,” you couldn’t think of what else to say, but then you looked at his outfit, which was little to none. actually, he was wearing normal clothes. peter was probably the only person at the party without a costume. “i guess i had to go all out since you decided not to wear anything. it’s your party and you didn’t think to dress up?”

peter laughs, breaking any invisible tension that might have been there. god, you loved his laugh. it was so childlike and full of joy, that you couldn’t help but smile.

“i have a costume. hold on,” peter puts on his glasses.

“if you say you’re a hot nerd—”

“nuh uh, i’m a super hot nerd,” he then rips the buttons off half of his flannel, presenting the superman symbol on his chest. rolling your eyes, it was your turn to laugh. your hand covers your face at his silliness as you lean against the nearby wall for support.

“you’re such an idiot.”

“i can’t be a nerd and an idiot, angel.”

“somehow, you make it work,” you both chuckle with huge smiles on your faces, unable to look away from each other.

“hey, dickwad,” flash abruptly appears from the sliding glass door that you two were standing by. he was dressed as spider-man, which nearly made peter cry laughing out of irony when he first found out this morning, but he kept that to himself. “—oh, hey, y/n. nice costume! at least someone has taste.”

“superman is a great superhero—”

“whatever, dude. at least spiderman is real!” flash shouts before parading away, repeating the statement to his next victims that will hear him.

“what do you have against spider-man?” you ask, leaning against the rough wall by just your arm. you were too afraid to have the dress touch it, in fear of ripping or ruining it.

“nothing,” peter shrugs.

“oh, c’mon,” you shove at his shoulder playfully. “just say you don’t believe in him. it’s okay.”

“what! of course, i believe in him, he’s not santa claus.”

“oh my god, santa isn’t real?!” you pretend to be shocked, hands slapping your cheeks. peter lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before nonchalantly grabbing your hand. your heart speeds up in your chest at his simple movement while your breathing halters.

and just like that he’s in control.

“do you want to get a drink?” peter’s thumb plays with the skin of your knuckles while he waits for your answer. but you can’t think of anything right now besides the soft caress being tattooed onto you.

“no, i’m not in the mood to drink tonight,” you replied, hoping that gave peter a hint at how you wanted the night to go. peter wasn’t as stupid as most guys, so you have high hopes that he understood the foreshadow.

“well, what are you in the mood for?” his voice was low again, speckles of lust wavering in it. he takes a step closer to you, and you can’t help but lay flat against the wall. you weren’t even thinking about the condition of the dress anymore. you swallowed as your stomach burned in anticipation.

“somewhere quiet,” your eyes flickered between his darkening eyes and his pink lips.

“it won’t stay quiet as long as you’re there,” a cheeky smile rises up on his lips as heat floods through your body. you hit his shoulder lightly, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

following him and his contagious smile, peter drags you through the crowds of people. there were more people in the house than when you arrived, but you’re not surprised. the upstairs section of the frat was basically off-limits to most people, unless you really had to go to the bathroom and the downstairs one was taken. you’ve been to the house a few times, but you’ve never stayed long enough to go upstairs.

but tonight everything is different.

unlike your wooden floors, peter’s are carpeted, so you’re walking very carefully on your heels. when you reach the top step, your calves are slightly burning from the exercise.

looking both ways, peter leads you towards his bedroom at the end of the hallway, hands intertwined. it felt secretive, and a part of you liked it. he closes the door right when you got inside, locking it quickly. but while he’s doing so, your hands release from his to explore his room. he rushes to clean his messes books.

peter had a gray and black color scheme that was alluring. his dark gray sheets looked soft and plush, and you could imagine yourself sleeping in them every night. were you getting ahead of yourself? maybe. you barely knew him, but you felt like you’ve known him forever. you glance around his room some more, trying to get to know him.

he had two band posters; led zeppelin and guns n’ roses. you didn’t expect the second one, but it impressed you. his desk was scattered with textbooks and papers like he had just been studying. turning around you see his two-mirror closet. it was slightly ajar, letting you see a few boxes.

“what’s in the boxes?” you ask, slowly creeping your way towards them. you don’t miss peter’s eyes widening slightly and his cheeks heating up. now you have to know.

“n-nothing important,” peter scratches the back of his neck, and if he’s trying to hide something, he’s doing a horrible job at it. on the sides of each box were black handwriting.

“trophies and medals,” you read aloud, inching your way towards the door, “books—”

“y/n, don’t!” peter exclaimed nervously with a hand reaching out to stop you, causing you to turn around and eye his expression. he swallowed thickly, praying you didn’t open the box. his anxiety was at an all time high. “there’s… personal stuff in there.”

“okay, okay. you don’t want anyone to know you have sexy magazines,” you rolled your eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “i get it. i’m not jealous.”

“yeah…” peter’s cheeks don’t cool down, still red and warm. for some reason, he senses the awkward tension arising in the atmosphere around you both, and he doesn’t know how to tame it. you both know what you want now, but it’s hard to bring it up without being so forward.

“did i tell you that you look good in glasses?” you speak after the few seconds of silence. you get yourself comfortable on the edge of his bed, unstrapping your heels from your already sore feet. you groan. “feels so much better.”

“thanks,” peter joins with a never-ending blush, sitting next to you. he’s itching to touch you.

why was it so much easier when he broke in?

he turns to face you and stares at your eye makeup. you had little black webs on the corner of your eyes. for some strange reason, the idea of you dressing up as him really turned him on. even if you didn’t know it was him.

“peter,” you said a bit breathlessly. your heart was racing with anticipation and lust. he hadn’t even noticed you were staring right back at him. you could look at each other for hours, but you really wanted more. needed it. subconsciously, you were both leaning forward towards your lips.

“yeah?” peter’s gaze never faltered. his honey brown eyes darkened to black.

“i brought something for you,” his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes, curious.

“it’s not even christmas yet,” he smiles, “and what’s that?” you leaned closer to him, your lips hovering over his ear.

“it’s a surprise,” you whispered seductively, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. he doesn’t hesitate to rub the supple skin covered by fishnet, warm and smooth.

when you pull away just the slightest, peter crashes his lips to yours. the kiss was as passionate as your feelings for him, erupting your anticipation and nerves in small gasps. he shifts you over to his lap, so you’re straddling him. instantly, you buck your hips into his crotch, desperate for more than a heated kiss.

your heart is thrashing in your chest and there’s a familiar burn in the lower part of your stomach. your hands roam his brown hair, exploring his locks like it’s new territory. except it’s not. you’ve never felt like you’ve known someone so well without even knowing them that well. the chasing, the waiting, the wanting, the needing, the wondering—it was the strangest feeling, and you were addicted to it.

you pop your lips off of peter, puffy and pink. you both take a second to breathe before you start kissing down his neck. you’re not shy with your teeth, leaving marks on his tough skin that’s shielding layers of muscle.

when you get to his collarbone, you nearly whine because he still has his flannel and shirt on. you swear you’ve never been more horny or desperate in your life.

“relax, sweet girl,” peter reassures, petting your hair while you look up at him. “we have all night.”

just tonight? you thought. what about the other nights? and days?

after a soft sigh, you nod and begin unbuttoning his flannel. your hands are a bit shaky from all the anticipation and the rapid beat of your heart. of course peter notices.

“are you alright?” he questions softly, being the caring guy he is.

“yeah, just nervous, i guess,” you answer honestly because he makes it easy to. he’s comforting and he cares.

so why are you nervous?

but instead of asking you why, he says, “me too.”

after you undo the last button and gently remove his flannel, you delicately smile at him. it was so pretty, peter couldn’t help but smile too. you tug on the end of his superman t-shirt, and he yanks it off. and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his immaculate figure. it was sculpted to perfection, as if he was given his body from some drug. or maybe even the gods.

his hand raises to caress your supple cheek, causing you to stare at his face before he’s kissing you again. it started off sweet and gentle, like how peter saw you. but it didn’t take long for it to be rougher and full of lust. peter could feel his jeans tightening underneath you, and he wasn’t stupid enough to confuse the scent of your arousal with perfume or something.

trying again, your lips go to trail down peter’s neck again. his breath is wavering our sighs of pleasure as you lick and nibble his skin.

“gonna tell me that surprise?” peter asks, hands crawling up to the back of your dress. he’s sure to be careful as he drapes the straps down, the top slowly sliding down as you make out with his chest. you push peter’s body down so he’s laying flat on the bed, not answering him. “not gonna answer?”

you weren’t. you didn’t have time for all the things you wanted to do with him. all the things you wanted him to do to you. maybe you were too far gone to think it would take more than a night to be fulfilled by peter. more than two. more than a week? maybe a month. you’d keep going until you’re sick and tired, but you don’t think you could ever get sick or tired of peter parker.

lost within the feeling of his body, you barely comprehend when he flips you dramatically over. his hard body hovers above yours, your dress barely hiding your peaked nipples.

“i ask you a question, baby,” he husks, breath fanning over your skin and traveling toward your ear. a shiver scatters up your spine and a spark of lust fires in your clit.

“you have to wait and see,” you answered breathlessly, a smirk rising on your face.

a dark color covers his eyes. peter doesn’t like not knowing something, so he’s desperate to figure out your little “surprise.”

with little to no effort, violet’s dress is tugged all the way down your body. he tosses it gracefully onto his bedroom floor, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he gazes over your body. he hasn’t seen you since wednesday and he was craving you like crazy. he thought he was going to go insane. but as he stares down at your figure adorning white fishnets sexily, he finally knows what it’s like to go crazy.

“is this my surprise? because, fuck, you look like a prize.”

you giggle as his rough fingertips trail down your torso. your nipples ache from neglect and the chilly october air that somehow breezes through the room. your body arches up into his touch, needing him badly. maybe you should just tell him the surprise.

but wouldn’t it be so much better if he just found it himself?

“can i unwrap my present?” peter teases with a cheeky smile, nudging at the waistline of your fishnets. you know that the second you open your legs he’s going to see your wetness leaking from the fabric.

“yes, peter,” you can’t help but laugh.

“do you care if i rip them?”

“what?”

“can i rip them?”

“i don’t—” the quiet sound of stretching and ripping cuts you off. he tore your fishnets. well, violet’s fishnets. “peter!”

“too late. i’ve never been good at unwrapping gifts,” he quickly kisses your cheek in a sweet apology, “luckily, i’m pretty good at taking care of them.”

you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t help but smile like a little kid. as he makes his way down your body again, he widens your legs and sees his surprise. your heart throbs just like your aching cunt.

“ah, so that’s my surprise,” he grumbles. it’s hard for him to keep it together right now.

peter stares darkly at the small purple toy peeking out from your bare pussy. you had no panties on, which in peter’s eyes, seemed ironic. from the top of his eyes, he sees the tiny smirk creeping up onto your lips.

his hand crawls up your leg until it reaches the soaking folds of your throbbing cunt. he pets your slit delicately, like you’d break if he fully touched you. you might. even from that simple touch, you were squirming underneath him, silently begging for more.

“how long has this been keeping you full?” he questions, curious, “is this what you’ve been using while i was gone?”

“mhm,” you hum when his fingers find your puffy clit, throbbing with desire. you leaked all around the purple toy, wetness gushing from you.

“look at you. fucking soaked. what made you this wet? was it the toy?” peter circles your clit faster, making your breath falter. you try to keep your eyes strained on him, but the feeling is just too incredible to focus on anything else. “answer me.”

“n-not the toy,” you stutter with breathlessness. a wavering moan elicits from you.

“then why are you so wet?” he taunts, and the low level of his voice floods over your body just right. you clench needily around the toy right in front of him, causing him to growl.

“you! nothing makes me wet like you do,” you admit head falling back on the pillow as his rough pace gives in. he’s satisfied with your answer, so he goes to a full, fast rhythm.

you’re so dazed with your orgasmic chase that your body rumbles as it nears. to make matters more intense, peter testingly pushes the small button on the bottom of the toy. it springs to life, vibrating your entire insides electrifingly. a broken moan escapes your swollen lips, and you just pray it’s hidden behind the heavy beat of the party music.

your legs shake in his hands as his head lowers. you’re so close to your high and then he does even more? you swear you were going to explode.

his challenging mouth sucks harshly on your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on earth. instead of the bed sheets, your hands find their way to his soft hair, tucking the roots with triumph.

you’re breathless and you’re close. so, so close. you can see your orgasm in front of you like a sunset and you’re riding straight into it on a horse.

“peter!” you cry when he nibbles on your clit, a smirk pressed against you. it was nice to release your moans without having to muffle them down. your core tenses like never before, overwhelmed by the extreme pleasure. “i’m coming—oh, fuck, please let me come!”

“go ahead, sweet girl,” he pops off of you and replaces his mouth with his thick fingers. “give it all to me.”

so you do. you release every tension within you that was holding you back. with eyes screwed closed, your back arches from the high. the wetness squeezes out of you while peter eases you through it. he switches off the vibrator and puts it somewhere besides you on the bed.

he lowers his head to clean up the mess with delight. when he comes back up, the grin on his face is toothy and contagious. you reflect it back, wondering how you got so lucky. how were you lucky enough for your intruder to be peter parker?

“you okay, angel?” peter asks, thumb caressing your heated cheek bone with concern. you’re melting into his touch, hoping to be a part of him forever. you wouldn’t mind.

“yeah, just… thinking.”

“good or bad?”

“i’ll tell you later,” you smile as you recall all the small thoughts you have of peter. peter rolls his eyes dramatically as your hands rub down his chest.

“but… i was wondering if i could be on top? just wanna try it. i need it,” you stare into his eyes and patiently wait for an answer. you’ve never been on top before, but with peter it seems like it would be really fun.

“i don’t know. do you want me to die?”

you laugh, forcing you to look away from his brown eyes. you push peter off the bed until he’s standing and ask him to take off his pants. when he’s completely naked, he goes to lean against his headboard, ready for you to sit on him. you crawl over to him as he puts on a condom from his bedside table.

“ready, baby?” he massages your upper arms.

“you’re being too nice, peter,” you note as you throw your legs over his hips. you didn’t actually know what you were doing, but confidence is key. if you just pretended like you knew, it would look like it, right?

“what? do you want me to be mean, baby? ‘cause i can be mean.”

“don’t think you’re really capable.”

“we’ll see then, doll,” peter says deeply as his hand grips your hip tightly.

as you slowly lower your body with peter’s guidance, you feel his tip enter you. it was a different feeling than being on the bottom. you had more control, but you had to do more work. you’re not sure if you cared to have so much free reign. you kind of preferred when peter took the wheel.

you rocked your hips forward, feeling his hard cock fully inside of you. it was stretching you completely out. you couldn’t get up if you tried. there was a pain mixed with pleasure that filled you up so good.

“c’mon, y/n. fuck yourself on my cock,” he growled in encouragement as you attempted to lift your hips up. you barely move because you’re squeezing around his cock so tight, like if you let go you’ll die. peter lightly moans as you squeeze him, wondering if he’ll die right here inside of you.

“i-i can’t,” you whine.

“you can’t? thought you needed it?” he taunts. peter can be mean if he really wanted to,

“it’s too hard.”

“you’re not even trying. good girls at least try. don’t you want to be a good girl?”

peter thrusts up into you once to make you moan, which works successfully. you spit out your broken moan with your hands clawing his biceps.

“barely moved and you’re already moaning. pathetic, really. you asked me to be on top and you can’t even take it.”

you clench around his prick at his degrading words. you didn’t think he could be mean, but you were wrong. his words were just the right amount of degrading that made you weak and so, so wet.

“look at that. my girl’s getting off on words like pathetic,” my girl. the two words nearly cause you to come right then and there. then peter thrusts up into you with purpose in each movement. as one hand grips your hip, the other floats up to your breast and fingers your nipple. he flicks and tweaks at it, causing you to arch into his touch. “what about slut? do like when i call you my slut?”

“fuck, peter,” you groan at his dirty talking. with each pump, you would feel every inch of him inside of you, filling you up completely. although you’re so full, you needed it harder and faster, and it was going to be difficult to get it from this angle when you’re not being much help.

before the begging words even slip from your mouth, peter is flipping you both over with ease. he doesn’t waste a second to slide back into you, causing your body to erupt in flames.

he begins with hard pumps, slowly gaining speed. but once he’s going fast, you could barely focus on your senses. you swear you could hear colors.

the sounds of your moans, shrieks, and screams echo throughout his bedroom. you don’t care if people could hear you. you hoped they could. you hoped they knew how good peter was destroying you, so they knew you were his.

peter hoped the same thing.

“so, so good, peter,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.

“yeah? such a slut for my cock, huh?” he teases, voice low and lustful. “so cockdumb that you couldn’t even ride me.”

“i-i can do it,” a breathless moan escaped you, but you were too floaty to understand what you were really saying.

“oh, now you can do it? well, it’s too late, sweetheart.”

peter’s pace doesn’t falter. he makes sure to make every thrust count as he hits every angle. you cry out in bliss, chasing your orgasm like your life depends on it.

“i’m close,” the whine that elicits from you is groggy and strained from how sore it feels. you can’t even imagine how raw it would be from taking him down your throat…

for another time.

his rough hand trails down between you until he’s pressing his hand down on your stomach. with every shift of his cock he can feel himself moving through you. as he puts more pressure, you both collectively moan at the feeling.

“can you feel me? can you feel me deep inside of your little cunt? do you feel me right here?” peter drags your trembling hand to place it on your lower torso, right where he’s nonstop thrusting into you.

“yes, peter! fuck, you’re so big. i feel you in my tummy,” you clamp around his cock, your orgasm right around the corner. “please, please let me come. i’ve been good.”

“have you? you couldn’t even ride me even when i let you.”

“i’m sorry, peter–please. need to so bad,” your eyes are squeezed shut as you beg peter. his hand that was on top of yours drifts down to your clit. he stimulates it by rubbing in tight circles that have you seeing stars. every muscle is in your body is screaming and pleading for release while he overstimulates you more. “want to be good!”

“yeah? want to be a good girl?” a needy moan elicits from you. “then come for me. right now while you’re squeezing me.”

the air surrounding you turned wistful and cloudy. your body rumbled and erupted as you orgasmed, shaking with desire as it poured out of you. you thought the first time that you and peter fucked was the best sex you’ve ever had, but after tonight, you’ve never been more wrong. maybe it’s because you two are a little more comfortable with each other. maybe it’s because you told him to be a little mean. whatever it was, it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. because it was more than sex. it felt like more.

peter’s orgasm trails yours, making sure that you come first. his thrusts were slowier and sloppier as he pants out heavy breaths. before exiting you, his hand reaches up to caress your face.

“okay?” his voice was a bit raspy as he came down from his high. his arms were on either side of your head, and you felt safe and protected.

“more than,” you smiled dopily at peter, whose eyes were twinkling. reflecting a smile, peter begins to pull out of you. “do we have to?”

“have to what?” he stops his movements, half-way out of you. you hated the empty feeling that started to flood over you because you knew he’d leave soon. well, you would leave soon.

“leave. can’t we just stay in here all night?” you question. a part inside of you was scared for his rejection, that he was going to kick you out and then that was it. but the other half of you had the courage to ask because you knew it would all be fine.

“i would–”

“oh, there’s a but coming.”

“but i need to eat. and so do you,” he pulls out of you and rids out the condom within a few seconds. you don’t move from your flat position on the bed, feeling the cold waves of loneliness flooding over you already. peter had a tingle that you wanted more. you wanted to stay, but you were too nervous to ask. you were good at giving him big hints, though.

he loves the idea of you staying. laying with you and hearing your soft breaths as you sleep. cuddling close to be warm from the cold air. peter’s heart lurches at the wonderful thought.

peter reaches for his clothes and dresses. you bend over and slip on the dress, without the fishnets. your hair was probably a mess, but you didn’t care because the only person you cared about seeing tonight was peter.

once you’re dressed with shaky hands, peter stands in front of you and rests his hands on your shoulders. delicately, he caresses your neck as you practically pur into his warm touch. you felt your heart rate pick up, even though he was just inside of you.

“and then, if you’d like, we can come back up here,” he presses his chest against yours as his voice softens, “and we can lay in bed, watch a movie, and not worry about being caught because we don’t have rules like you do.”

although your heart was beating fast already, you’ve never felt more comfortable. he made you feel reassured, and you couldn’t ask for more. with a smile rising to your lips, peter’s heart skips a beat at the wistfulness cascading throughout his body. your lips were soft and kissable, your skin was glowing with an orgasmic shine, and your makeup was a bit smudged, but you still looked like peter’s perfect girl.

his girl.

“wait, before we eat, i have to get some stuff at the sorority.”

“okay,” he says, “put this on. it’s freezing and your wearing practically nothing.”

he throws a hoodie at you and you catch it with blinking eyes. it as a small gesture, but your heart was melting. you slip it over your head without any question. and then he’s dragging you out of the extremely loud and crowded house. no one says or questions anything, and you’ve never been more glad to be so invisible.

–

“what are you doing? come on!”

“what if they see me?”

“there’s no one home!” you whisper-shouted at peter as you walked through the door. there was a key under the flower pot that worked great when you forgot your key.

it’s kind of ironic that you are both sneaking into your sorority. it’s a full circle moment.

you both tiptoe through the clean, white house. peter nearly takes his shoes off because he’s scared he’ll leave dirt footprints in his trail. he really does not want to be seen in this house knowing what happened to flash the last time they snuck in. but it’s peter’s job to be stealthy, so he hopes he could keep up the good work.

you make it up the stairs and head straight for your room. peter remembered exactly which one was yours, now that he’s been in it two times somehow. once you’re both inside, he shuts the door behind him quietly like someone would hear him.

“why did we just tiptoe all the way up here? there’s no one even here!” you say in a normal level voice as a chuckle follows after. peter laughs with you as you search your drawers for some clothes.

“i feel it’s only right to bring the mit one, right?”

“definitely.”

“wait, did you leave the vibrator on your bed?”

“uh… yeah. sorry.”

“peter!” your skin grows warm with the idea that someone might stumble into his bedroom and find it just lying there. you cringe at yourself.

you pack a small overnight bag with your most needed essentials. peter sits patiently on your bed, practically swinging his feet as he analyzes your bedroom. it was simple with a few picture frames of family and friends. your room was basically plain white with a few pink and blue items scattered around the place. in all, it was you. he couldn’t think of a better sorority room to fit your vibe, your personality better than this room. it was naturally gorgeous, like you.

even though peter was looking around your room, he was still watching you pack. he observed when you folded a pair of night shorts with the mit t-shirt and even threw in an outfit for the next day just in case you two went out. but you were missing something.

“okay, let me grab my toothbrush,” you quickly left the room and in no-time were back. “let’s go. i’m hungry now.”

“but you’re forgetting something,” peter says. you blink, wondering what you might be forgetting.

“but i grabbed everything–” you watch as peter glides towards your dresser drawers. he opens the top left and immediately finds your colorful panties and underwear. your eyes widen in embarrassment, even though he’s seen you naked multiple times. something about him staring at your undergarments was just a little more… vulnerable?

peter snatches two different colors, a royal blue one and a vibrant red one, similar to the first one he saw you in. of course, he picked these colors purposely.

“which one? i’m thinking the blu–”

“what are you doing! that’s my underwear!” you tried to reach for them dangling in his hands, but he was way quicker than you. it’s like he knew before you even moved.

“well, i think at this point it’s kind of a tradition for me to take one, no? i couldn’t take them earlier because you weren’t wearing any!”

your neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment. yeah, you may have been confident when in the moment, but talking about it just made your face hot. peter always knew how to get you going. to get quickly out of this situation, you grumble, “blue.”

and with that, you were on your way back to the frat house. the party was still going strong and surprisingly, no one asked where either of you were. when you and peter walked through the door, people just acted like you’ve been there the whole time. but they were also drunk and high, so was it really that shocking?

within the first few minutes of you and peter being in the congested house, you both look at each other with a knowing look. there was no way you two could eat in this populous, mess of a place.

“diner?” peter shouts over the blaring music. he swore flash turned it up to full volume, even when peter told him specifically not to do that.

“exactly what i was thinking,” you reply loudly as you squeeze your bodies through the crowd. peter slides his hand into yours as you shift through everybody. a spark of electricity nearly shocks you.

when you approach his car, you throw your bag at the bottom of your feet before dropping into his passenger seat. you both inhale and exhale the refreshing night time air. the house smelt like marjuana and sweat, but his car was scented with pine and fresh leather.

as he started the car, you two didn’t say anything. and it was perfect. it was comfortable. it was safe. you turn your head to look at peter, whose eyes were fighting between the road and you. your heart skips a beat that’s getting familiar as you smile softly. gently, your hands intertwine as you ride on to the diner.

your journey with peter started… differently than most. but you liked the idea of having a tradition with peter. sure, it may not be traditional, but it was yours. you would both have to create a fundraiser for all these panties he will be stealing because they’re not cheap!

is it really stealing if you know he’s taking them? whatever.

when people ask how you guys met, it’s going to be a funny story. how many people break into someone’s house as a dare and then fall in love with them? not many.

wait… love?

–

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. i could not be more grateful for the love on panty stealer. i never thought any of my writing would get this much notice, so thank you (times three) for all the likes, comments, and reblogs.

note: i won’t be making anymore full parts, however, i will do blurbs/drabbles of these two if requested!

taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @sylum @harrys-humble-housewife @blurazbabe @introverbatim @piperparker7 @graceberman3 @tommy-braccoli @fioooweeooweeeoo @conrad4life13

crossed out= not able to tag

[abysswalkerastraea1]

panty stealer

DATE: JANUARY 14, 2023

summary: flash forces peter to sneak into the girls sorority and steal a pair of panties as a dare. stumbling into the nearest room to save himself from being caught, he doesn’t expect you to be there, and to let him steal the panties you’re wearing.

request: yes!

words: 5.1k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, oral], praise kink, slight dacryphilia kink, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, alcohol, mentions of weed, and a bit of fluff.

note: frat!peter x sorority!reader / peter masterlist / PART 2

—

“are you serious right now, flash?” peter groans with a pinch to his nose. his eyes screw shut in annoyance at flash’s obnoxious behavior.

“of course i am, penis parker!” flash shouts, shoving peter towards the large, white sorority house. “you have to do the dare or else.”

peter groans again, hating himself for ever agreeing to do this stupid game with flash.

the night had started calm and for once, peter was grateful. friday nights were the craziest day at the frat house, but this week, everyone was a bit too busy with schoolwork. except flash apparently.

like all of his other roomies, peter loves a good party. he doesn’t mind thrashing his house every week if that means he can have fantastic parties at his place (okay, maybe he minds a little bit. it gets tedious cleaning up garbage after a while). he knows he won’t be young forever, so what the heck, right?

people never would have guessed that peter was the leader of the frat. shocking, right? everyone would assume it’s flash for his obnoxious and party boy persona or brad for his attractiveness and charm. but what do those qualities have to do with being a leader? everyone else (besides those two) agreed that peter should be the head of the house because he is responsible and smart, unlike those boneheads.

peter often asked himself if he was attractive and if he had charm.

he did, right?

brad was good with the ladies. one glance and a wink made the girls melt into puddles at his feet. every morning when peter woke up early to go to class, a different woman would waltz down the stairs with a glowing, uncontrollable smile in nothing but a t-shirt. peter knew without a doubt that every one-night stand that stumbled down was brad’s; it was rarely flash or the others and ned had a girlfriend who was in the sorority across from us.

peter hooked-up once in a while. he found it more difficult to be like brad when he had college to concentrate on and lives to save inbetween it all. being spider-man in high school was overwhelming at first because it was impossibly hard to hide it. but now, having more freedom in college made everything a bit simpler. just a bit.

flash being spider-man’s “#1 fan!” still made him chuckle every time it came up.

speaking of flash, when peter stumbled through the door in the evening expecting a chill friday night, flash just had to crank up the energy. as per usual.

“what is this?” multiple bottles of liquor were splurged across the dining table when peter walked into the kitchen. flash crossed his arms with a huge smirk plastered onto his face, while ned looked concerned and stressed.

“i tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” ned shook his head in disappointment before walking away to his room.

“we’re having a party. it’s friday, penis,” flash said with an obvious tone. peter could easily have him removed from the frat, being the leader and all. yet he still keeps him here. why must he do this to himself?

“flash, i said no parties today. everyone is tired and stressed, and has a lot of work to do—”

“stressed? i think that’s the best reason for a party. you need to get laid, my brotha,” brad interrupted with an arm around peter’s shoulders and a firm pat to his buff chest. brad is way taller than peter, which some might think intimidates him. but peter is mainly intimidated by intelligence, and brad had the iq of a stick.

peter rolled his eyes at the predictable statement. flash rambles on about how parties are a tradition on friday nights and peter sharply cuts him off with a strict tone.

“ugh, fine! no party, party-pooper parker. but we will be drinking tonight. or else i’m sending an invite to 50 people.”

—

peter had no choice but to comply. flash, ned, brad, himself, and the other boys are seated on the furniture with the drinks displaced in the center. flash gave peter an ultimatum; play truth or dare or he rings the entire sports program of a party. peter growled and folded.

soon later, there is a sharpie drawing on flash’s ass, a ruler that measured brad’s dick, a flushed ned from downing too many denied truth shots, and laughter bubbling throughout the whole room. peter is the only one who hasn’t gotten asked anything yet and he honestly feels a bit left out. but he also just wants to do his homework and then go to sleep.

“what’ll be, penis parker?” flash inquires with a mischievous look on his face. “truth or dare? or should i say drink or dare?”

peter, not caring at the time, chose dare. “dare.”

“oh, you’re so in for it.”

—

so in all, peter was basically held against his own will to sneak into the girl’s sorority house. even though he denied the dare profusely and took three shots to make up for it, flash still dangled the party invites over his head like an iron weight waiting to drop.

peter snarled as flash nudged him again impatiently. he thought of an idea that might work. peter would have to do this dare, but would he have to do it alone?

“if you come with me, i’ll give you $50 bucks—” peter sells with raised eyebrows. he licks his lips as the cold breeze rustles the trees and sends slight shivers up his arms. the sky is pitch-black as the heavy clouds cover all the stars. peter felt a storm brewing and he really didn’t want to sneak into the sorority soaking wet.

“pfft, parker, please. i have enough money—”

“—in weed.” peter finishes, causing flash to halt his words. peter knows that flash can never find a good supply because he complains about it all the time. marijuana wasn’t legal on campus, let alone in the state. the trade had the cogs turning in flash’s head.

“alright, deal,” flash gives in and elbows peter as a form of agreement. then flash motivates brad and ned to join, heading straight for the zone as a group.

their goal was to grab a pair of underwear and leave without being caught. as spider-man, that should be easy, right?

—

for some odd reason, the back door was unlocked. you’d think girls would be more secure and observant than guys, but maybe they forgot. after hopping over the trimmed gardening hedges, the four boys crept through the door and into the kitchen.

unlike peter’s frat, the sorority girls had two big rules that they made known to everyone; no hook-ups allowed and no frat guys. ever. the girls didn’t throw parties like peter, they only went to them, so their place was like a holy sanctuary.

when the guys tiptoed into the kitchen, peter wasn’t surprised the place was damn-near spotless. most of the interior was pearly white; couches, love-seats, tables, counter, cabinets— it was like walking into an insane asylum with minor color accents.

it was at least midnight by now, so the girls had to be asleep. tiptoeing as silent as possible up the stairs, peter leads until they’re all standing in the middle of the large hallway with rapid, contained breaths. flash, being the scaredy-cat he is, follows last and nervously trips over the final step. he slips, tumbling down multiple levels with nosy thuds and bangs of his elbows and knees. all of the guys sprout wide eyes and strained, silent gestures to warn him to stop falling and making an absurd amount of noise.

peter gets goosebumps, hair rising on his skin as he gets a shiver down his spine. his hearing intensifies, picking up mumbled whispers and light footsteps with his spider sense. his eyes wander frantically as he scatters his brain for an idea. nothing comes to mind fast enough, as a door down the hall creaks open. brad and ned drag flash up the stairs, but freeze when they hear the door. out of instinct, peter sprints to the nearest door, slyly slipping inside. he closes the door gently, contradicting the pounding of his heart, without a noise being made. he releases a sigh as his forehead rests on the doorframe.

“what are you doing?” peter nearly shrieks when you casually question him. he stares at you, eyes impossibly wider than before. your arms are crossed as you sit on the side of your bed. peter swallows harshly, gazing at your appearance.

your legs look smooth and supple, and very much bare. he assumes you have underwear on under the t-shirt you’re sporting, and is proved correct when you shift to dangle your legs off the bed. his eyes are drawn to the small sight of your panties that tease underneath your shirt. you smirk, arms still crossed as you let him check you out.

“i-um-uh,” cheeks wildly red, he swallows and averts his eyes to the ground. how does he explain such a stupid thing without sounding like a jackass? i was dared to invade the sorority house. sorry. oh, also, can i have your panties? “it was a dare.”

“to sneak into my room?” your head tilts as you lift yourself off the bed and stalk towards him. peter’s cheeks grow redder while his heart pounds brutally in his chest.

besides the embarrassment flowing like blood through his veins, you were the simple kind of gorgeous that made his knees weak. the kind that is stunning in their own skin and that radiates beautiful energy like magical fairy dust. and peter nearly fainted when he saw your lack of clothes.

he’s seen you many times before; you share a class with him and came to some of his parties. he never talked to you in fear of rejection, but now he doesn’t really have a choice.

usually, he has more confidence with girls, but this is a very unfortunate situation where he lost every skill he’s ever known. even talking.

“no—” ear-piercing screams interrupt peter’s stuttering from the other side of the door. footsteps run all over the wooden floor as low profanities leave the guys’ mouths. “i think she found them.”

“you think?” you clip with raised eyebrows. peter inhales, losing some of his anxiousness at his thoughts of the boys being caught.

poor ned. betty’s going to kill him.

flash deserved it, though.

brad is probably getting one of their numbers.

peter shakes his head and sets his thoughts straight.

“okay, look. flash dared me to do this… stupid thing and i convinced them all to do it with me. i wanted to do nothing but relax tonight,” peter admits with a stressed exhale. you glare at him with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what has him so worked up. it’s not like he got screamed at and kicked out like the other guys. knowing some of your roomies, they might be a lot worse than just kicking them out. you get closer to him and ponder what he said.

“what was the dare, parker?” you shoot a harsh glare at him, daggers that force him to answer. your head tilts with curiosity as your heartbeats sporadically. you’ve never had a guy in your room before, and for that first guy to be peter parker has your heart bouncing around your chest like a boomerang. you’ve had your eye on peter for a few months now; not crazy obsessive, but you won’t deny the blood-rushing crush you’ve grown for the frat boy.

how did you stumble that low? a frat boy? jeez.

peter can’t be too shocked that you know his name, let alone his last name, but you saying it still causes him to forget some of the words on his tongue. many shouts are heard from outside the door, but your chests are nearly touching as you gaze up at him and then the outside world is practically silenced.

“i had to steal some… panties,” he mumbles, voice low and quiet. why does it sound so dirty?

“panties?” you repeat in a hushed voice as your surprised eyes blink a few times. you swallow, clit beginning to throb at the word out of his mouth.

“yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “do you have any that i can…borrow?”

your mind hazes at his question. you tried to remember where your underwear was and if it was clean. but as a clear opportunity lies in front of you, you decide to run with it. you look down with a racing heart, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt.

“i…i have these ones,” you lightly ball up your t-shirt, revealing your laced panties to peter. he quietly coughs, cock starting to harden behind the zipper of his jeans. you glance up at his reddening expression through your eyelashes, devilish eyes hiding behind an innocent facade. confidence and lust ease your anxiety. “will these work?”

“um, yeah,” peter coughs again as rosy embarrassment crawls up his neck and blood rushes to his cock. you strut over to the mattress, rocking your hips teasingly, and peter instinctively follows with his heart in his throat. you lie on your back and spread your legs, arousal dripping from you at every movement. peter watches from a side angle, holding his breath as the tension rises.

“well, you’re not much of a panty-stealer if i just give them to you. come and steal them, parker,” you say with as much confidence as you could muster up. your heart was so loud in your ears you almost couldn’t hear yourself. speechless, peter walks to the front of the bed and kneels down, eye-level with your pussy.

he crumples the shirt over your hips, your legs automatically spreading wider. his senses heighten and pick up on the scent of your arousal. a small patch of it can be seen in the middle of your underwear, sending painful pulses down to his forever hardening cock. his thumbs dance around the laced hem, teasing you to see how much he can go.

he would say some of his confidence is back now.

he hooks his fingers under the band, sliding the flimsy fabric down while sticky arousal slings to you. he stuffs the damp material in his back pocket. both of your hearts rack and hands tremble at the extreme intensity, waiting for someone to do something. anything.

peter decides to be that person and resumes his fingers to your hips where the hem used to be. your folds glisten with pent-up arousal, just begging for him to touch you. your puffy clit throbs, neglected, and your thighs subtly spasm trying to remain open. peter grinds on his molars, nearly moaning at the glorious sight. his rough pads trace your smooth skin as he drags lower, dangerously close to where you’re yearning for him.

“peter,” you whisper, holding your breath, so you don’t move a muscle, even though they’re involuntarily shaking with need. he hums, the dirtiest thoughts flowing through his mind. “d-don’t you have to go? what if you get caught?”

“i can spare a few minutes…” his gaze is hazy and distracted, voice gravelly with lust. you clench desperately around nothing as you quietly plead for him to do something. his thumb tests the waters and finally begins circling on your clit, sending electricity up your body. you yelp at the sudden pressure, naturally grinding your hips for more friction. “hmm? don’t you want me to spend a few minutes with you?

his words are taunting and condescending, making your mind go blurry while the words disintegrate from your tongue. the rough pad of his thumb rubs faster while you clench around nothing again, chest heaving.

“i want more than a few minutes,” you moan as his middle finger pets along your soaking slit, teasing you painfully until your eyes roll back. you can sense the smirk growing on his face based on the satisfied hum he responds with.

“more? greedy girl,” peter slides his middle finger into you without warning causing you to release a long string of moans. “shh, you don’t want them to hear you, do you? then we’ll both get caught.”

you shake your head.

“then be a good girl and be quiet for me,” peter demands softly. you nod shakily, as another finger pumps into you rapidly. he thrusts brutally into you, fingertips brushing over your g-spot. you melt as bliss laces throughout your body.

“it’s always the quiet ones who are the loudest,” a devilish and dirty smirk dances on his lips while your teeth sink painfully into your bottom lip. you slap your palm over your mouth to remain quiet as thrilled moans threaten to pour out of you. your revolving hips are halted by his strong forearm, allowing him to curl his digits deliciously into you. you mewl with screwed eyes, back arching at the immense pleasure.

“i’m so close, peter,” you whisper, scared that if you speak any louder your moans will betray you and alert the whole neighborhood. peter subtly grinds his hips into the front of the mattress, cock dangerously hard from your whimpering and whining.

“can i taste you? been dying to since you opened your legs for me,” peter asks while your thighs tremble and your pussy contracts tightly around his digits. you mumble out a shuddery please before his mouth is devouring you.

he never removes his fingers, pumping ruthlessly while his mouth explores your slippery folds. he sucks harshly on your throbbing clit, a muffled wail escaping through your hand. warm and soothing, his tongue glides curiously and sneaks into your undeniably soft cunt. the moan you release is unholy and way too loud. at least right now.

peter wants nothing more than to hear your sweet, sweet moans crying his name while he makes you come in several different ways. but tonight was not the night. he wasn’t trying to get reported and have intruder as a new notch on his belt.

he had a good feeling you wouldn’t run off and report him though.

the idea of it all got him off much more than he would have ever thought. and looking at you, he could say that same.

his mouth plops off of you, lips swollen and puffy from sucking.

“come all over my tongue. let me taste you, sweet girl,” his tone is euphonious and seductive, yet demanding. his fingers savagely thrust into your seeping hole that clenches tightly around him. your back arches off the mattress as your thighs shake from the upcoming euphoria.

peter’s words send your body into overdrive. your muscles contract and your stomach tightens as your orgasm ripples through your body like a heavenly wave. cum oozes out of you and onto his tongue, slurping up every ounce of your juices until there is nothing left.

“such a good girl,” peter praises while he licks away your arousal from his rosy lips. heat crawls up your neck at your sudden vulnerability. you attempt to close your legs to hide, but he keeps them spread with his rough hands. “you’re going to hide yourself after i just ate you out? we’re just getting started, baby.”

peter pulls his shirt off deliberately, showcasing his bulky abs and muscles that made your clit pulse with desire again. he looks like he was man-made, a real-life sculpture with chiseled muscles and perfectly ridged abs. you were insatiable to this man, who snuck into your room to steal something— you should be mad at him. furious. but when his boxers fall down his legs, only dirty and needy emotions and thoughts are left.

your eyes widen at his impressive length; you’ve only been with a few guys in the past, but none of them were this big. you were scared, yet excited to feel his cock stretch you out sinfully. you imagined how long you would feel him inside of you afterwards, soreness like a good workout at the gym.

“you’re so big,” you mumble, not hiding the fact that you were blatantly eyeing his raging cock with hunger, fear, and lust.

“it’ll fit. don’t worry, doll,” he hovers over you, smoothing your hair away from your worried eyes. “do you have a condom?”

you stretch out your arm into your night stand, blindly grabbing a tin-foiled package. you seductively rip it with your teeth, causing peter to groan in impatience. he snatches it away from you and swiftly slides it onto his sturdy cock.

“such a fucking tease,” he hisses, running the tip of his cock along your folds, which were already soaked in arousal again. “are you ready?”

you nod your head surely, more than ready for him to fill you up.

“you’re one to talk,” you sass, rolling your eyes, which were no longer as worried, but full of needy anticipation. he huffs out a single chuckle, eyes strained on his dick rubbing around your wetness tediously.

“speaking of talking, don’t,” peter thrusts into you savagely, making you gasp and shriek. your hand immediately goes to his shoulder for leverage, nails digging desperately into the meat of his skin. the other tightens securely onto your mouth to keep quiet, even though it’s probably useless now.

hoarse profanities fall from his lips as he shifts around your snug hole. your velvety walls choke his cock so fucking good, he doesn’t think he’ll last any longer. and then you clench even tighter around him, sending peter’s eyes rolling back into brain.

“you’re so fucking tight,” peter groans in your ear, flicking his hips upwards into you. your body trembles in overwhelming pleasure, muffled whines begging to be released.

slapping skin and hushed moans fill the air. peter fits a hand between the two of you and rubs your throbbing clit perfectly. his lips travel down from your ear to your neck, kissing along your skin. his tongue discovers your soft spot, sucking harshly until you’re clutching onto him for dear life.

“you’re so good, peter. so deep, too, oh god,” you can’t help the lusty wail that tumbles from your raspy throat when he rapidly rolls his hips, repeatedly touching your sensitive g-spot. he growls at the praise, every action being intensified by the comment. you notice this and smile with a hint of devilishness behind it.

“you may be smiling now,” peter pants, muscles popping and flexing from the position. “but you’ll be crying soon.”

if possible, his thrusts got harder. and deeper. and faster. he was pounding into your cunt like there was no tomorrow, buckets of arousal leaking from you and all around him. peter would pull his cock fully out just to slam it back in, and it made you wither away into another dimension. his balls beat against you harshly with every brisk thrust of his body. his skilled thumb pets your clit, electrifying all your nerves into blissful flames.

there was so much to feel; the biting of his kisses on your neck, the rough texture of his thumb pad on your clit, the long, thick length plunging barbarically into you, and the heaviness of his weight above you. you were so overwhelmed by the pleasure, water brimmed at your tear ducts. soon, full-blown tears are streaming down your face from the euphoria running through your veins.

that familiar wicked smile curls on peter’s face with your appearance; wild hair, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen lips. he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful in front of him.

his cock twitches when you whimper loudly underneath the palm of your hand, begging to let you come. contracting on his shaft, your nails stab his shoulder blade until crescent moon marks appear. a strangled moan leaves him when your body rolls up towards him, back arching harshly.

“need to come. so bad, peter,” you whine. his name from your lips drives him mental.

“fuck, y/n,” he sighs heavily. “come around my cock like the good girl you are.”

with those words, your second orgasm tumbles through your body like a thunderstorm. peter slams his lips against yours to keep you quiet, all your pent-up moans turning into needy hums in your throat. stars spot in your vision and you thought you might pass out from being fucked into oblivion. you wouldn’t even be mad— it was worth it.

summoning all your energy, your muscles tense as the liquid floods out of you. your back arches, making your bare breasts push up against peter’s chest. at the same time, peter comes with a string of curse words against your plush lips. he shoots his load into the condom, balls tightening while his eyes screw shut. he steadies his pumps and slowly pulls out of you, never wanting to leave.

you whimper at the emptiness, already missing his cock. he ties the knot and tosses it into the garbage under your desk. peter slips into his boxers and immediately finds the small box of tissues on your night stand. grabbing a few, he cleans you delicately like an antique doll as if he didn’t just ravish your body and soul.

you were beyond dumbstruck as he wiped you up. the few people you have been with never stayed long enough for aftercare, and even though it should be a necessity, the action still made your heart lurch for peter. speaking of your heart, it was beating a mile a minute. sex was a physical activity, yet having a huge crush on someone felt a lot more physically demanding. but you really liked the feeling.

a million thoughts brisked through your head; how does he feel? does he feel the same? did he hate it? did he love it? you shake your head. if you didn’t stop yourself, you would ruin any chance you might have by overthinking too much.

when you refocus your eyes to the moment, peter has his jeans fully on and his shirt in his hand. he slides it on and then looks at you worryingly, seeming as though you’re still naked and haven’t moved.

“are you okay? did i go too hard? fuck—”

“yes—i mean no! shit,” you stutter after interrupting him and close your eyes in embarrassment. “yes, i’m fine. i’m more than fine. that was… really good, peter. like really good.”

peter’s tensed shoulders relax as his face melts from a concerned expression to a soft one. you slip your large t-shirt on and stand up from your bed. your legs are a bit unbalanced and wobbly, and peter can’t help but chuckle as he holds you steady by your hips.

“stop laughing! you did this!” you whisper-yell with a faked angry face.

“oh, i know. next time, i’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, let alone stand,” he winks with an arrogant smile cascading his lips. familiar heat creeps up your neck and ears, making you all tingly inside at the idea of a next time with peter.

“next time?” large rings of hope surround your irises as you stare into peter’s. his arrogance slightly fades as he itches with nervousness.

“yeah, if that’s what you want, of course,” why is he holding his breath? why is his heart beating so unhealthy fast?

“if i say yes, does that mean you’re going to try to steal my panties again?” you try to hold back your grin as you joke, peering up at him with squinted eyes.

“are you going to let me steal your panties again?” he clicks his tongue with his all too familiar smirk. he loves your playful demeanor and your attempts to withhold a smile.

you pretend to think, really debating. peter can’t help but stare at you in awe. you were beautiful, and he regrets not approaching you earlier because you were… well, he didn’t really know you yet, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. even if you told him to fuck off and never to see him again, he knew that he would never forget you or this night.

you push yourself closer to peter, chest to chest. you can both feel the rapid beating of your hearts through your shirts. however, you stand, gazing confidently at peter. he watches you as you lean right in like you were going to kiss him.

“mm maybe. you might just have to find out yourself,” your breathy words linger on his lips as you back away and casually get into the bed. you unfold the comforter and tuck yourself in, like you didn’t just give peter a semi-hard on in his pants.

suddenly a loud crash is heard from outside, alerting both of your heads to peer out through the window.

“my car!” flash cries so high-pitched and whiny, he probably woke up the entire neighborhood. peter isn’t surprised that one of the sorority girls destroyed his car because he deserved it. someone needed to humble him anyway. you both laugh behind the palm of your hands at flash’s girly scream.

with that, peter realizes that he has to go and that he no longer has any minutes to spare. flash, brad, and ned probably weren’t worried about peter while they were out-running the girls. but now that the girls had done the damage, the boys would soon realize peter’s absence.

“better hide your panties. this isn’t over,” peter walks over to the side of your bed and kisses your forehead delicately. he cracks open the window, turning to you with half his body out. with a wink from him and a gasp from you, he jumps down the two-story window without hesitation. your heart flutters at his gentle kiss that lingers on your skin, fingers pressed against the spot his lips last touched.

rain begins to splash on the glass as sprinkles of water drip into your room through the open window. you purposefully don’t close it, even when you know the carpet will get soaked throughout the night. you welcomed the idea that if peter wanted to come back, he could, simply by sneaking through the window the same way he left.

so many other thoughts cloud your mind, making you lie wide awake. you wondered if his heart was still thumping hastily like the rain pattering on your window and onto your floor. you wondered what he looked like when he was drenched in natural rain water. probably breathtakingly beautiful; soaking wet hair and a childish smile adorning his rosy face while he laughs wholeheartedly.

as you roll over to turn off your lamp with a wistful sigh, you remember that you never even got his number. while trying to guess which set of numbers fit peter parker the best, you fall asleep with a yearning heart, flapping its wings adoringly in your chest.

oh, god, you were down. and it was bad.

what you didn’t know was that peter was down too, but even worse than you.

—

tags: @raajali3

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[abysswalkerastraea1]

Could you write a Stephen x f!reader with age gap where she’s ribbing him, calling him things like her “old man” (affectionately) and calling him out on his stamina, just to get a rise out of him and he shows her just how wrong she is (maybe with overstim on her end)

Thanks Xx

Show Me What You’ve Got, Old Man

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Explicit language, age gap, spanking, oral (f receiving), fingering, PinV (unprotected), degradation, slight overstimulation, slight voyeurism.

Word Count: 7,799

Reading time: ≈ 28 mins.

A/N: first and foremost, @vickie-mcmuffin just released a oneshot with a very similar prompt, go check it out and show her some love!!! second, one thing about me? imma write an age gap where doctor strange is concerned, LMAO. solid request, 10/10, no notes. enjoy the read <3

18+ or i haunt you like a ghost from ur past &lt;;3!

Stephen was used to you testing his nerves. It was your favorite pastime, really. He supposed it had something to do with all that pent-up energy and wit— and there was a lot of it with you being so young and fresh. But some days— oh some days— he just wanted to tie you up in the nearest corner and put a gag in your mouth. You were relentless. And while your flirtations were normally sweet, you definitely had a brattier side that he found jumping out more and more. He liked when you flirted with him, and he should have known better than to flirt back. Though you’d made it abundantly clear that there was no hesitancy on your part due to your age gap, he found himself second-guessing the flirtation from time to time. He knew he shouldn’t be responding to it or entertaining it, but you made it so damn hard to ignore.

It had started out innocent enough that day. He was rummaging through the cabinets at Kamar-Taj trying to find his favorite tea when you’d saddled up beside him and bumped him gently out of the way with your hip, reaching up and pulling down the sugar for yourself before serving him a shy smile and going back to your own tea. As you put the sugar back in the cabinet, you also placed the box he’d been looking for right in his line of sight with a little smirk and sashayed away, hips swinging back and forth, mug cradled carefully in your hands.

Then about half an hour later when he was on his way to teach a beginners course for opening gateways, he’d seen you sitting in the courtyard, legs crossed, eyes shut gently, deep breaths forcing your chest to rise and fall at a slow and steady pace. The swells of your breasts were rather hard to ignore in the tank top you were wearing— you always wore one under the top layer of your robes, insisting that all the fabric was too heavy for you to concentrate in.

“It looks unprofessional.” He’d scold gently

“We’re magic wielders, Doctor. I don’t work in an office and I won’t spend the rest of my life in a uniform.”

“Why not? It looks nice enough on you. And the other students stare when you don’t have on the upper half. It looks like we’re playing favorites.”

“Oh…” You hum, “I see.”

“What?”

“It’s hard for me to concentrate in my robes, but it’s much harder for your other students to concentrate when I’m out of them.” You’d raise a quizzical brow, “Is it your students that have a hard time focusing or you, Master Strange?” Glancing up at him through your lashes you tease, “Just another old man perving on his student… how unfortunate. I believe the world suspects better of you.”

So you knew exactly what you were doing when you took off that outer layer. And even if it was hot and it did help you concentrate, even if that was the original motive, he was almost certain that motive had been entirely overruled. Though, he couldn’t say he actually cared. He just had to continue being a hard-ass about it… like most things you did.

Not to mention, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t play a part in some in it. 

When he’d stalked into the library at around noon to find a very specific book to go over during lunchtime, he couldn’t help but stop and stare when he saw you. There you stood on your tip-toes, both hands stretched upward, fingers just shy of missing the book you were clearly so desperate to reach. And the space between the shelves was too narrow, but Stephen made his way over, wedging himself between you and the shelf. 

He watched your body go stiff as his as he leaned forward a bit farther than necessary, leaned down a bit farther than necessary as well to whisper, “Pardon me, just trying to reach this…” Before pulling the book you’d been so desperately trying to reach from the shelf and sliding away, leaving the touch of his hand against your waist

And that was where he’d anticipated it ending for the day. Because the next time the two of you would see each other would be during a sparring class, and for as insistent as you were, you never pushed your boundaries when there were other students around. You were as big a believer in respect as he was, and you both knew exactly what it would look like if other students and Masters caught wind of your flirtations.

“Y/N, with Master Strange.” Wolfe demands walking by you during your warmup stretches

You crack open one eye and ask, “You’re gonna make me beat up an old man?”

Stephen did a double-take hearing the conversation. Old man? He wasn’t that old…

He watched as Sarah tried to quell a smile, “You’ve far surpassed proficiency in hand-to-hand. You’re a danger to the other students.” She tells you

You ‘tsk’ and roll your eyes, “You give a guy a concussion once.”

“And a fair amount of harsh bruising to others.”

“You know as well as I do it’s far less dangerous to bruise another student’s skin than to bruise a Master’s ego, Master Wolfe.” You could feel Stephen’s eyes on you as you pout, “What if I hurt his feelings?”

“Y/N…” She chides

“Sorry. Yes, Master Wolfe.” You relent with a smile

“Old man?” The all-too-familiar baritone creeps up your neck and causes chills to break out across your body, “I’m not old enough for that title quite yet, I don’t think.”

You close your eyes and hum, giving a shrug, “That’s your opinion.” You scoot over and pat the space next to you, “Come stretch. Don’t want you to pull anything when we get started, Gramps.” Stephen complied, lowering himself gracefully next to you on the stone floor and you smile asking, “Were those your knees I just heard?”

He scoffs, “You didn’t hear my knees.”

“I think I did…”

“Oh, very funny. Someone is in a mood today.”

You hum quietly, “What kind of mood do you think I’m in, Doctor?”

“Not entirely sure.” He huffs out, rather disappointed your eyes aren’t open to ogle his arms as he stretches them over his head… you normally do, “How was your time in the library earlier today?”

“Well, seeing as how someone took the book I needed, entirely ineffective. Thank you.”

“It’s too advanced for you anyway.”

“And how do you propose I better myself if I continue reading the same old same old?”

“I’ve always found hands-on experience rather helpful.”

“Hands-on experience?” He watches as you crack open one eye and look him over, “Offering your services, Master Strange?”

Stephen’s nostrils flared as he looked away from you, “I’m sure any of the other Masters or upper-level students would be more than happy to help you, Miss Y/L/N.”

You smile to yourself, “So shy with others around.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, that you have no problem rubbing yourself against me in private between bookshelves, but the second other people are around you’d rather put on that air of professionalism and pretend you wouldn’t rather be between the shelves.”

“I wasn’t— I simply needed that book.”

“Oh?” You ask, “And tell me… what did you need a beginner’s level book on astral projection for, Master Strange?”

Well… shit.

“It wasn’t me who needed it so much as Wong. He’d asked me to take it to the London Sanctum. One of their students needed it and their copy was missing.” Stephen lies succinctly 

“And that required you to grind against my a—“

“I didn’t.” He denies, “And do lower your voice.”

He did. Round and wonderful. He’d thought about it many, many times. He hadn’t gotten as solid of a feel for it as he’d have liked.

“If you didn’t then you shouldn’t be worried about anyone overhearing the conversation.” You point out, “My apologies. I misinterpreted the interaction. I’ll be sure to move away next time.”

“Thank you.” He says simply in response, though secretly dreading you would actually put the threat into action

“I should have known anyways.” You sigh, “A nice old guy like yourself isn’t into creeping on little girls, is he?” You glance at him sideways and enjoy the way his jaw tenses, “You wouldn’t waste your time flirting and teasing someone so young and innocent. Not when there’s a line of women out there in the real world perfectly willing and ready to fall into your bed at the first glance.”

“Innocent is not the first word that comes to mind when I look at you, Dear.” Stephen says, glaring down at you

“Dear? Highly unprofessional, Master Strange. Really…” You stand and look down at him, “I’ll find us a nice private place to work. Come find me whenever you get yourself off the floor. I’ll give you twenty— or do you need more?”

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll be there in three minutes.”

“It’s better if we set realistic expectations for ourselves.” You chide with a grin

“You’re right.” He agrees, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Stephen actually took his three minutes. He needed it to compose himself. He wasn’t sure what you were playing at today, but he could tell you were up to no good. Your condescending tone and catty little attitude made him want to spank the disobedience right out of you. He could imagine how satisfying the action would be… how nice the imprint of his hand on your ass cheek would look. He’d bend you over the nearest surface and serve one for every snotty little remark you’d made today. You’d be writhing beneath him by the end of it, ass wiggling, little hands clawing at anything and everything, looking for something to hold on to. He’d lean over you, pressing his half-hard—

Shit.

Stephen huffed to himself as he walked over to the spot you’d chosen. A back corner beneath the shade of a tree. A growl bubbled up from his throat when he saw the top half of your uniform slung over one of the branches in the tree. Your too tight tank top with itty-bitty straps sitting far too low on your chest, exposing the black sports bra beneath it. Stephen wasn’t exactly understanding the dynamics of that sports bra. He thought the point was to flatten, not push your tits up to your neck.

“Put it on.” He grit out immediately upon arrival

“No one else has seemed to notice but you. And Master Wolfe always lets me keep it off. Given she’s my instructor at the moment, it stays off.” You fire back immediately, you grin and bounce on the balls of your feet saying, “Besides, I can move a whole lot easier with it off.”

Yeah, he could see that.

He sighed, “Straight to it? First to tap loses?”

“Sure.” You agree

Stephen immediately stepped forward and hooked his foot around your ankle, pulling your leg from under you and watching as you tumbled to the floor. You looked up at him with pure disdain and pouted.

“I’m sorry, when did we call start?”

“You said ‘sure’ which sounded a lot like ‘let’s start.’” He smiles to himself, but does offer a hand to help you up from the floor

You reach up and gingerly take his hand before your grip goes a lot firmer and you pull him down so his stomach meets your foot. You huff and with what feels like far too little effort, throw him over your head, sending him flat on his back behind you. He lets out a groan and rolls over to find you standing and ready for whatever move he makes next. You did like to play dirty.

“Ouch.”

“You started it.”

“How old are you?”

“I wasn’t born in a year that starts with a one, if that’s what you’re asking.” You tilt your head and ask, “What were the roaring twenties like? Always wanted to know. Loved The Great Gatsby in high school.”

“Oh, c’mon…” He mutters, “I’m definitely not that old.”

“Show me what you’ve got, Old Man.”

He throws a weak jab to your left side which you sidestep easily with a grin, “Gotta’ be quicker than that.” He throws another, much quicker as you’d suggested to your right, “Not quite.”

The next jab he throws, you grab his wrist and twist so his arm is behind his back, his hand pressed between his own shoulder blades. A high uncomfortable stretch, and one which can genuinely hurt if the person were on the floor immobile. Stephen bends his free arm and elbows you in the ribs gently, just hard enough to force you to let go. He huffs when you don’t and repeats the same action with much more force, pulling a hiss from your throat as you drop his arm.

“You understand the point of sparring is practice without any real damage to your partner, correct?” Stephen chastises, “If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d make it out unscathed.”

“Unlike others, I don’t worry about my paper-thin skin bruising from a little pinch, Doctor.” 

“Shut up and swing.” He grouches

Instead of your arm, your swing your right leg up at him. Stephen raises his arm and lets you kick him in the ribs, only to bring his arm back down and trap your leg. As Stephen was trying to decide what to do with you from this position, he ducked out of the way just before your fist made contact with his jaw. He glared at you seriously, his nostrils flared.

“Have to be honest, kinda glad I missed that one. Don’t wanna ruin the money maker.”

Stephen’s ego received a boost from the comment if nothing else, though he still lectures, “You’re going to hurt someone swinging full force like that some day.”

You groan and wrench your leg from his hold, “Isn’t that the point? What the hell are we training for if not to hurt someone?”

“We don’t train you so you can hurt someone else, Y/N. We train you so you can protect you.”

“Where is the difference?” You throw your arms in the air

Stephen swiftly wrapped one arm around your own and pulled the other back with it, standing behind you with both your arms trapped over your head in his hold. You wiggled for a moment before deciding that would get you nowhere. He was stronger and taller— a huge advantage for him in this position. Think and buy time. Stephen waited patiently to see your next move. He could practically hear the cogs turning in your head. Not to mention he could smell your shampoo… clean and floral, something sweet but soft— so very much the opposite of you.

“What’s the difference?” You repeat quietly, tensing yourself a little so his arms would have to spread wider to keep you in their grasp

“Hm?”

“What’s the difference in hurting someone and protecting me if I have to hurt them to protect me?”

Stephen couldn’t resist drawing you back just a little farther, masking it as trying to gain a firmer hold, “Because protecting you means we get you out of the situation in as little time, with as little energy as possible. Hurting someone just because you have the ability to is cruel. When they’ve surrendered, you let go. That is what you need to learn. It is not about the power.” Stephen brought his lips closer to your ear and whispered, “Think of all the things I could do to you from here, Dear. Some I’m sure you’d find more painful than others— but the fact is, I could do them and you couldn’t stop me. But just because I can, doesn’t make it right.” He felt you shift on your feet, your body wiggling in his grasp, your cheeks flushing pink, “Would you like to tap?”

“No.” You huff, “Rather like where I’ve found myself.”

Stephen ducked his head and smiled, “Though that may be, you do have to get out… can’t spend all day like this.” He lowered his voice and asks, “So, how do you get out?”

You seem to contemplate for a moment before admitting, “I don’t know.”

“Dead weight.” He responds, “You’re overestimating the strength of my arms. They’re the weakest part of my body. Make yourself dead weight and you’ll fall away without a problem.”

“But now you know my next move.” You pout

Stephen chuckles in your ear sending a chill up your spine, “I don’t know what you’ll do after the fact.”

You wait a moment before making yourself dead weight as he says, and you appreciate the fact that he does still try to hold you up, he doesn’t just let you go. You land on your knees and with a smile turn to face him, making your eyes wide and innocent as you stare up at him, chin tilted up. Stephen took in a steady breath. It was a nice sight, he had to admit that much.

“Any good?” You ask

“Perfect.” He agrees

You reach forward and grab him in the bend of his knees. His legs give out and he falls to the ground with a groan. You immediately scamper up his body, straddling over his waist, crossing your arms and grabbing his lapels to place him in a choke hold.

“Not cool.” Stephen mumbles, rubbing the back of his head

“Why not? I thought it was pretty good.” You wiggle a little, sliding your hips down over his crotch

He gives a little grunt and his hands come to your hips on reflex. He glares up at you and you just smile down at him.

“Stop.” He hisses

“Stop what?”

“That!” He exclaims as you wiggle again

“I’m just waiting for you to tap out.” You feign, “Though… doesn’t exactly feel like you want out of this position…” You wiggle against the bulge becoming quite a bit more prominent in his pants

“Y/N. Enough. We are in a public setting with other students and Masters—“

“We’re training.” You roll your eyes, “Already too worn out? C’mon, where’s your stamina, Old Man?” Stephen shift below you and you settle your weight over him more firmly, your lips parting ever so slightly at the pressure

“Cut the Old Man shit.” He grits out

“Awe…” You pout down at him, tightening your hold on his neck, “Are your feelings hurt, Master Strange?”

Stephen steeled his hold on your hips and flipped the two of you so you were face down on the stone. He pinned you wrists above your head, straddling over your thighs… his hips more or less pressed against your ass, but that was just a fact of the position, not his own will. It was however his own will when he leaned down, pressing his half hard-on between your ass cheeks. He couldn’t have missed the little whimper you gave if he tried.

He put his lips beside your ear and growled out, “We need to have a serious talk about your boundaries and sense of professionalism, Miss Y/L/N. You will come to my office at the end of the day. Am I understood?” You phrased below him and Stephen snarled, pressing more of his weight against you, “Am I understood?”

You swallow hard and nod, “Yes, sir.”

He released your hands, “Now tap.”

You tapped and Stephen immediately lifted himself off of you and turned to leave, “Tell Master Wolfe had a matter of urgency to attend to. You’ll need a new partner the rest of this session.”

“Yes, sir.” You agree, voice shaky as you lift yourself from the ground

“As soon as your day is done. Your schedule is free after seven. I expect you to be in my office before or at eight. No later.”

“Yes, Master Strange.”

But he was already storming away.

Stephen was sitting in his office waiting for you. He kept glancing toward the clock. A quarter til eight and you still hadn’t shown. He started to wonder if his tone hadn’t been serious enough for you. He was at his wit’s end. That little stunt you pulled… completely inappropriate. Even more inappropriate was the face he had to continue reminding himself how inappropriate it had been. But the image had been… enticing to say the least. The idea that one of the other students or Masters might have seen only made the situation more arousing. But he was supposed to be the adult in this situation. He shouldn’t be considering… entertaining such behavior.

There was a gentle knock on the door and he straightened up behind his desk, calling, “Come in.”

You stepped through the door timidly, hands laced behind your back, “Door opened or closed?”

“Whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

You nudged the door to with your foot. Stephen didn’t look up from the book he seemed to be absorbed in. You walked farther into the room and took a deep breath. It smelled so perfectly of him. There was a little fireplace on the far side of the room that made the smaller area nice and warm. Three different rugs were layered over themselves in front of it, a large regal-looking chair slightly to the side. His desk was large, deep oak wood with a chair to match. The space suited him very well.

“Good evening.” You murmur

“How were the rest of your classes?”

You shrug, “Fine. Still no luck opening a portal. Not even a spark.”

“And you believe you’re ready for astral projection?” Stephen asks, glancing up at you through his lashes

You weren’t in your robes. Your hair was half-dried and falling over your shoulders, face glowing fresh out of the shower. You wore a ratty old tee shirt with a seriously worn-out collar and a pair of little bitty sleep shorts. He knew it was what you preferred to relax in, and he seriously doubted you were still trying to cause trouble after this afternoon… but it really wasn’t helping your case. The sight of you looking so pretty undone only made him angrier. You had him by the throat even when you weren’t trying.

You give a little stomp, “It’s the only thing I haven’t made progress on. I can conjure, I can fight, I can even transmute smaller objects—“

“Really?” Stephen asked, rather impressed and unaware of such progress

“Yes.”

Stephen looked around his desk and placed a pen in front of you, “Go on.” He gestures to it

You stepped forward tentatively and picked up the pen. You closed your eyes and focused on breathing, focused on exactly what object you wished the pen to become, trying to see it clearly in your mind’s eye. The more detailed the picture, the closer it would come out how you wanted. Stephen watched your palm illuminated with magic, a soft golden light cast onto your face, eyes closed softly in concentration. He smiled when he saw your nose twitch, lost deep in thought. Such a pretty girl. He gave you an impressed look when you opened your eyes and gently held the former pen out to him. Instead, a small white wildflower was placed in his palm.

“Just started practicing inorganic to organic… much harder than one inorganic object to another.” You admit

“Still… very nice work.” Stephen compliments, “You do learn quickly when you want to.”

You shrug, “Not in any rush, Master Strange.”

“That’s a nice change of pace from the usual.” Stephen admits

A silence settled over the room. You looked down at the hardwood floor and dug your fuzzy-sock-clad foot into one of the cracks. Stephen sat there observing you. In his fury, he hadn’t exactly considered where to go from here. To let you off the hook would be a grave mistake, that much he was certain of. But to scold you too harshly meant that it would all come crumbling down, and he didn’t exactly want that either. So what did he let win here? His head or his dick?

He pushed the chair out from under the desk and turned it slightly to the side demanding quietly, “Come over here.”

You swallowed hard and tiptoed around the side of the desk, feeling very much like a little kid who got sent to the principal’s office. But this was so much worse— because the principal was awfully hot when he was angry, but your flirtation is what had landed you here in the first place. You stood in front of Stephen with your arms laced behind your back… he was still nearly at eye level even sitting down. He drew in a long breath and sat up farther in his chair, looking you over.

“Master Strange, I apologize for what happened at sparring this afternoon.” You decided to take initiative, “I may have gotten a little carried away.”

“Carried away?” Stephen repeats, watching you look to the floor

“Yes, sir.”

“And are you referring to the name-calling, the flirting, or the grinding yourself against my cock?” Your head snapped back up, eyes a bit wide, but Stephen just chuckled dryly, “Well, if you can do it, might as well be able to talk about it.”

Your mouth went dry but you mustered enough courage to mumble, “All of it.”

“I don’t want you acting that way in front of the other students and Masters ever again. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.” You agree

“Now, what to do with you…” He muses, bringing a hand to his chin to rub over his goatee, “There’s always library duty. Everyone’s favorite.” You pout a little at the idea but don’t object, “Could have you sent to the New York Sanctum to act as a maid. Or scrubbing the floors of the courtyard— been a while since someone’s done that.” Stephen muses, trying to hide a small smile behind his hand at the twitching of your nose once more. He lets the idea hang in the air a while before tutting, “Ah, no. I have a perfect idea for you, Dear.”

You shuffle on your feet, waiting to hear that he’s making you stand in this room until you can open a portal, or write out lines on a chalkboard over and over again. Classic cursive knowing him. One line again and again until you got it through your head he wasn’t interested in you like that: ‘I will not be horny with my Master in public.’ Instead, he reached forward and grabbed your hips, pulling you forward between his spread legs. Your heart rate immediately skyrocketed from such a gentle touch— just a taste of the proximity you craved. Stephen watched your face, your brows knitting together in confusion.

He spoke softly, “Pull these little shorts down for me.”

You swallowed hard and stammered out, “P-pull down my..?”

“Mhm.” He hummed simply in return

With shaking hands, you put your thumbs through the waistband of your shorts and let them slide to the floor. Stephen smiled at the little panties you were wearing covered in hearts. How cute.

“Now straddle my lap for me.”

You swallowed hard and moved forward, carefully placing your knees on either side of his legs in the large chair. You hovered over him and Stephen grabbed your hips roughly and forced you down. You gave a little gasp, your hips shifting forward as you landed over the bulge in his pants once more today. Stephen tilted his head up and placed a gentle kiss on your neck, smiling when goosebumps broke out beneath his lips. He ran his hands up and down your arms gently, caressing from your wrists to your shoulders.

“Hands on the back of the chair, Sweetheart.” He commands lowly, “And keep them there until I say different.”

“Master Stra—“

“Uh-uh. No talking. Just do what I say.” He cuts you off, glancing up to find your face flushed a violent pink, “Unless you need it to stop.” He raises a brow, “Do you want it to stop?” You bite into your bottom lip and shake your head no, placing your hands on the back of the chair like he asked and Stephen gives a pleased little smile, “Then just do what I say. This is your punishment for the way you acted today.” He explains, trailing his hands from your was it to your ass, giving a little grope, “And if you’re a good girl, I might give you a reward. How’s that sound?” Your brows are still tensed in confusion, but you give a nod of permission, “That’s good. Stay quiet for me, yeah?”

You nod a shift a little, not quite certain what his next move will be. Stephen’s hands grope gently at your ass, setting your nerves ablaze. You can feel him semi-hard beneath you, even the thick material of the robes can’t hide that. You let out a little gasp as his hand pulls away for a split second, only to meet your ass hard and fast. You jump a bit in his lap and Stephen smiles to himself. You let out a whimper and bury your head in the crook of his neck, his cologne overwhelming your senses quickly.

“You know… I’m used to your little attitude, Sweetheart. But today you were outright mean.” Another slap to the globe of your ass cheek, another little squeal, “Why’s that, huh?”

“I… I thought I wasn’t supposed to speak, sir.”

“If I ask you a question you can.” Another slap, “So why were you so mean to me today?”

You shake your head in the crook of his neck and deny, “Wasn’t trying to be mean…”

“No?” A slap harder than the previous three makes you let out a bit of a groan, the noise traveling straight to Stephen’s dick, “What were you trying to do then?”

“I- I just—“

“Uh-uh.” Stephen interrupts, bringing his free hand up to your chin and forcing your head back to look at him, “Look at me when you speak.”

You swallow hard, your lip stuck out in a pout as you say, “I didn’t wanna be mean… only wanted your attention.”

Another slap, “And making fun of my age, calling me Old Man, teasing me for my stamina… that was your way of doing it?” He pouts back at you, “A little girl teasing her crush on the playground. Really? How old are you?”

“Too young to be sitting in the lap of a dirty old man.” Your tongue replies before your brain can check it

Stephen serves you an unamused glare and lets his hand down over your ass much harder, the sound echoing through the room. You give a yelp and rest your forehead against his shoulder, your body shaking slightly.

“If I’m so dirty and old, why are you in my lap letting me do this to you, Sweetheart?” He whispers in your ear, “You wanna’ know what I think? I think you love it. You love how much older I am, you love that you have my attention, and as you’ve very well proved this afternoon, you’re willing to do anything to keep it.” He hears you inhale sharply, “Hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?”

You wiggle a bit and Stephen brings his hands to your hips to still you. You don’t answer, keeping your head buried in his shoulder, completely embarrassed by the situation at hand. Because of course, you loved it, and of course, he knew it. He’d known it from the moment you started this mess. But he would be the one to finish it. He spanked you again, and again, and again.

“Now be a good girl and say what you really want instead of firing insults at me over and over again.” He demands

“Want you.” You mumble

“Look at me.” He growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tilting your head back

“You. I want you.”

“Want me to what, Little Girl?” His eyes bore into your own, the blue enveloped almost entirely by his pupil, his lips only millimeters from your own

“Fuck me.” You whisper

Stephen leans in closer, his lips ghosting over your own, “All you’ve ever had to do was ask, Dear.”

You held your breath, waiting for him to press his lips to yours. Waited and waited… but it never came. Instead, he twisted and grabbed beneath your thighs, sitting you on his desk. He pried your legs open and wasted no time in ducking down, burying his face in your clothed cunt. You gasped as his tongue jumped out and licked a long, thick, shameless stripe over your sex. Your knuckles hurt from the strength with which you gripped the edge of the table. Stephen grabbed at the waist of your panties and manhandling you dragged them off. You closed your legs on instinct and he pried them open once again, giving you a dangerous look. He leaned forward and wasted not a moment before thrusting his tongue into your hole. Your head fell back and you let out a moan.

Stephen slapped the side of your thigh and demanded, “Eyes on me.” He thrust his tongue into you once more and loved watching you strain trying to hold back another sound of pleasure, “Already wet for me. Were you wet before you walked in? Were you thinking about me all day, Sweetheart? Desperate to have this pretty little hole filled?” He licked a fat stripe from your hole to your clit and you keened, “Mm, feels good doesn’t it?”

You swallow hard and nod, “Yes, sir.”

“What if I do this..?” Stephen stuck two long fingers into you making you whimper, “That feel good too?” You nodded emphatically, looking down to where his fingers disappeared inside of you, “I know it does. I know a lot, Little Girl. Like you’ve made clear all day, I’ve been around a lot longer than you.” Stephen curled his fingers and searched gently until he found that spongey spot that made your eyes roll back, “That’s the spot right there, huh? Sure you’re used to a bunch of bumbling idiots who don’t know how to make you feel good. You just want someone to take care of you, isn’t that right?”

Your hips bucked as he curled his fingers into that spot over and over again, a gasp bubbling up your throat, “M-Master Strange!” You cried out

He tuts, “I know you wanna’ yell, but you have to keep quiet for me. Can’t let anyone hear what we’re doing in here. Gonna stay quiet for me?”

“Yes, sir.” You agree, “Please, Doctor…” You give him beggar’s eyes, “Please give me your mouth.”

“Where?” Stephen licks a circle around your clit, “Right there?”

“Fuck, yes.” You sigh, head falling forward

“You’re so much prettier when you’re compliant.” Stephen says, just to rile you up

He smiles when your nose twitches, your lips pulling into a grimace, eyes snapping open. But you were in no position to bite out the ‘fuck you’ you so desperately wanted to. So you kept your mouth shut and blocked out the sound of his voice, instead focusing solely on his tongue tracing patterns on your clit. Fuck, his mouth felt good even if it was used primarily for talking shit. You were already embarrassingly close to cumming. It was too soon, and you were sure to get an earful if you—

“Oh? You about the cum, Sweetheart? I feel you squeezing my fingers. You trying to hold out on me?”

“No.” You snap

Stephen tilts his head and gives you a knowing smile, “Come on, Y/N. None of that right now. Be a good girl and cum for me. No holding out on me or I’ll just stop altogether. You won’t get my cock.” Your cunt fluttered at the suggestion and he chuckled, “Yeah, I know. You want it.”

Stephen leaned back down and placed his mouth over your clit. He stroked his tongue over that perfect spot one, two, three…

“Oh… shit, Steph—“ Your whine was cut off as your body convulsed above him, a silent scream leaving your lips, head thrown back, one hand coming to Stephen’s head to hold him there, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You chanted over and over under your breathe once it’d come back to you

Stephen growled and pulled away from your cunt, standing and shoving his chair back and leaning over you, one hand going around your throat. You stared up at him wide-eyed and he leaned down, taking you in a bruising kiss. With his free hand, he shed the top layer of his robes and pulled down his pants and boxers. He was too eager to take the time to undress himself fully or even magic the clothes away. He jerked himself a few times, moving his hand from your throat and pressing it over your mouth, entering you in one quick, rough thrust. Your mouth wasn’t muffled enough, he could hear the squeal you let out plain as day, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Stephen rested his forearms on either side of your head and leaned over you, drawing his hips back to snap them into place, another squeal echoing through the office space.

“This what you wanted, Sweetheart?” He grunted out, “This what you been beggin’ for all day? Just needed my cock in you?” You whimpered, your voice shaking from the ferocity of his thrusts, “I know it’s what you wanted. Look at you… hasn’t even been half a minute and this pretty little pussy is fluttering around me. Don’t even have to touch your clit, do I? Make you cum… just… like… this.” He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust

Tears gathered in your waterline and he smiled down at you. He uncovered your mouth and ripped your shirt upward, smiling at the little bralette you wore beneath it. Red to match the hearts on your panties.

“How cute is that? All matching for me.” He grinned, watching your tits follow the momentum as he rocked you against the desk

“S-stephen…” You whimper, “S’big. C-cock is so b-b-big— fu—ck.”

“I know.” He pouts down at you condescendingly, “And this hole is so goddamn tight— shit, Baby Girl. You keep fuckin’ choking my cock.”

“I can’t help it…” You sob, “It’s— it’s so much. It’s too—“

“Oh, no, no, no. Can’t be too much, Little Girl. You can take it. You can’t be tired already? Only cum once for me. Gonna’ make you cum at least three more times.” Stephen brings himself back to his full height, reaching beneath your hips and angling you upward. You give another cry of pleasure and he shushes you, “Uh-uh. Gotta’ keep quiet for me. Don’t want anyone to hear you getting fucked in here, do you? Think of all the trouble we’d be in.”

He was drilling into your g-spot over and over and you felt like you weren’t on this plane of existence anymore. Because it was too much— but it was too fucking good to quit. His cock was stretching you in a way no one ever had… and he was so fucking deep. Christ, he must be massive.

“M’sorry, sorry.” You say as quietly as you can, “It just feels so good, Stephen.”

“Yeah, Sweetheart? Everything you hoped it’d be?”

“B-better…”

“Cum for me again. Wanna’ feel you cum on my cock.” 

And again your body obeyed him. He watched as your back arched, shoving two fingers in your mouth as it opened. You grabbed onto his wrist and suckled on his fingers, staring up at him all teary-eyes and lost. Nothing but him, only him. Stephen withdrew his fingers from your mouth and started circling your clit and you whined, shaking your head, but not able to say a word against the action. Too blissed out to care.

“Feel so good, Sweetheart. So damn good.” Stephen grunts out above you, “Gonna’ give me another? No holding back, remember?”

You shake your head, “S’too—“ You give a cry as Stephen jackhammers into you, “S-stephen, too much, please…”

“Please to another? I think we can make that happen.” He grins down at you evilly, “You want it on my cock or you need my mouth—“

Stephen paused entirely. His thrusting, his speech. He put a hand over your mouth and held a finger to his lips once more, looking toward the door, listening intently. Your eyes went wide when you heard the handle on the door turn, but Stephen just watched, not moving a muscle, not moving to pull out or pull away in the slightest. When the intruder realized the door had been locked— you weren’t sure how, you hadn’t locked it when you closed it, they called out.

“Master Strange? Are you still here?”

Stephen gave you a small smile and drew his hips back, resettling in you slowly as he replied, “Yes, Master Wolfe, just finishing some work up for the day.”

“May I come in? I’d like to discuss what I saw during sparring this afternoon. I can’t find Ms. Y/L/N—“

“Yes, she’s at the New York Sanctum playing maid as punishment.” Stephen continued pushing in and out of you, “Though, wouldn’t be surprised if she’d finally managed to open a portal to escape her punishment.”

“Oh, alright.” Wolfe hesitated before asking, “You know— there’s no technical rule against relations between a student and Master. But… it’s still frowned upon by many.”

Stephen rolled his eyes and leaned down over you, his nose brushing against yours as he circled small tight circles around your clit and called back, “And what about two Masters fooling around, Sarah? You’ve been making an awful lot of trips to the Sanctum recently—“

“Stephen!” She exclaimed, but you could tell from her tone that the observation startled her

“I’m just saying— most would find it rather uncouth for the Sorcerer Supreme to be distracted from his duties—“

“He’s— we are not!” Wolfe stuttered out, “Strange, you open this door right now and come speak to me, or I’ll open it myself.”

“I really doubt that’s something you actually want at the moment.” Stephen warns, “Though, given I’m here, the Sanctum is rather empty. I’m sure our Supreme is unoccupied for the time being.”

There was a pause at this and you had to bite into your bottom lip to stifle a giggle. Stephen smiled back at you, his shoulders quaking with amusement. What an odd position to be in— though you were undeniably turned on. The man wasn’t even willing to pull out of you to go settle the conversation. While Stephen waited for an answer he reached up and pulled the cups of your bra off your tits. He immediately leaned down and began to suck on one, his hand leaving your clit to toy with the other. You threw your head back in pure delight, and Stephen smiled to himself when your walls fluttered around him.

“I think I see why Wong is so perturbed by you now.” Wolfe mutters through the door

Stephen picks his head up long enough to reply, “Wong only pretends to be perturbed, he’d fall apart without me.” And reattached his lips to the opposite nipple, making your back arch, your hands flying to his hair to keep him there— fuck, that mouth

“This conversation is not through.” Sarah says before the sounds of retreating footsteps echo down the hall

Stephen immediately praises, “Good girl… so good for me, Sweetheart.” He kisses up your neck and bites into the soft skin making you whimper, “I’ll only take one more from you, after that you just have to wait me out.” He starts thrusting into you more insistently again and grins like the devil, “Unfortunately for you, you’ve severely underestimated my stamina.”

You shiver as his warm breath touches your neck and nod, “Yes, sir.”

He looks down at you softly, a moment of tenderness showing through as he asks, “You are okay, aren’t you?”

You nod and return a soft smile, “I’m okay, Stephen.”

“Good.” He changes his pace, thrusting into you slow but hard and laments, “You know— shit— I wouldn’t be opposed to doing this again.”

“Mm?” Is all you can hum out in response

“If you learned to behave yourself, that is.” Stephen admonishes, “Can’t go around humping yourself against me like a bitch in heat in front of other people— holy fuck, Baby— pussy’s so tight, she always this tight?” You flutter around him and he smiles, “God, you love hearing how much I love this pussy, don’t you? You love hearing how good you are for me.” Stephen reaches back between the two of you to toy with your clit, “And you are so, so good. Such a sweet little girl when you’re getting what you want. And what was it you wanted this whole time, huh? Remind me.”

“Y-y-you, Stephen. W-want you to f-fuck me like this.” You pant out, clawing at his back as electricity courses through your body, “I’ll be good from now on— p-promise.”

“Mm, don’t make promises you can’t keep, Sweetheart.” Stephen teases, “But if you are good, remember where you end up. Laid out on my desk and dumb and fucked out.” 

You nod, “Yes… yes, sir.” You agree, “Y-your cock is so big. It hurts.”

“Mm…” Stephen smiles against your shoulder, “I know it does. But it hurts so good, doesn’t it?” You nod emphatically, “And you take it so fucking well. I’d take you for a whore if you weren’t so clearly desperate for me and me alone.��� Your nails digging into his skin felt like heaven to him, “Be a good girl and cum for me one more time. After that you just have to lay here and let me play with you. Don’t have to move, don’t have to speak… just gonna let me use this pretty body, yeah?”

“Yes, sir…” You manage out, body in overdrive and mind reeling, on the verge of an explosion

“That’s right. Good girl. You gonna’ let me cum in you too? You want to take it in—“

Stephen was cut off by an obscenely loud moan as your orgasm ripped through your body. He didn’t let up as you convulsed beneath him, grinning ear to ear at the the idea that such a simple suggestion sent you hurling toward your finish.

You were filthy.

“Good girl, so good for me.” Stephen praises, “Now just give me about fifteen more minutes, Baby. I’m gonna take my time with this…”

tag list: @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12 @fireworksinthesky @strangesslut @cemak @pinkthick @cumbrbatchbenedict @newavenger @evelyn-kingsley @aphroditesdilemma @vi0letdaze

[abysswalkerastraea1]

double penetration in one hole Alucard, reader, Trevor, I don't think Alucard would share his girl with anyone, but what if he did, I think it would be with Belmont!

A/N: I stared at this for a bit trying to figure out how to do it lol but I hope it turned out okay! Thank you sm for the req, I hope you enjoy it!! MWUAH

Double Penetration (one hole) x Alucard, Trevor

You nearly dropped your glass, sputtering up the water you tried to drink before the absolute monster of a ball was just dropped on you. You looked between Trevor and Alucard, the blonde’s eye twitching, hands just about ready to wring the other’s neck for that comment. And Trevor Belmont, just sat there with a smile on his face and shrugged--as if what he just said wasn’t the most outlandish thing you’ve ever heard!

“Belmont, I let you get away with a lot of shit, but if you ever talk about my wife like that again--”

“Well I was being serious.” He rebutted before the dhampir could finish his threat. Then his eyes met yours. “I’ve talked about it with Sypha, you know. She even gave me the green light to bring it up, you can ask her if you want. Won’t make any difference to me.”  Holy shit, he was telling the truth wasn’t he?

Alucard’s anger was mostly on your behalf. He would never, never, in all his lifetime, let anyone touch you. But...Belmont...well, he was a different story. He was his friend. He helped him save the world over and over again, hell, he named the village after him. Maybe he would...let Belmont touch you. If you wanted.

Alucard grabbed your hand, thumbing over the back while you tried to catch your breath. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, my love--”

“--she know that”

An exasperated sigh. “But, if you want to, you can say yes. I trust you, you know that.”

You felt like your world was spinning, really, but...you couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t thought about it. Just once! And you were drunk! And you didn’t do anything! But...still. The temptation was there. You steadied yourself, small smile playing on your lips as you looked to your husband, kissing each finger before looking over to Trevor.

“I...I want to. But only if Adrian’s there.” Alucard blinked, scrunching his brows and looking at you, surprised. “Darling you don’t have to try to appease me--”

“Fine, Alucard there.”

What?

-

“A-ah, fuck, Trevor, mm.” You were writhing underneath him, leg hitched over his shoulder and the other around his waist. Trevor was much harsher than Alucard, opting to take you rough, and you didn’t mind it--not when he was pounding you so good. The brunette dipped down, practically bending you in half, bullying his way even deeper into you. “What’s wrong, sweet thing? Thought you said you wanted your doting husband here--you’re not even paying attention to him.” He teased, throwing a look Alucard’s way. He simply pet at your head, kissing your temple and whispering sweet words to you, ‘You look delicious, darling’ , ‘so good at taking cock, sweetheart’ , ‘I’m right here for you, angel’. You whined, grabbing at his neck and pulling Alucard down in a kiss, that was all tongue and teeth--he had to be extra careful not to cut you the way you were haphazardly licking inside his mouth. You whimpered, holding onto the back of his neck tight while you sobbed at the overwhelming feeling. “Wan’ you too, Adrian--please, please wan’it.” You babbled away, eyes closed and nose scrunched. Trevor slowed his pace, just a bit, looking over to the dhampir who shared the same thought, it seemed.

“Okay, darling, you’ll have me.”

In a moment you were flipped over, chest to chest with Trevor who was now sitting up against the headboard. He grabbed at your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip--swollen and red with all the sucks and bites it’s received throughout the night. Your eyes were glossed over, tears drying on your cheeks. “What a pretty little wife you have, Alucard..” He whispered, not breaking eye contact with you as he spoke to the other. Suddenly a second pair of hands were on your body, wrapping around you to grope and squeeze at your tits, giving extra attention to your nipples. You trembled, looking back just a touch to see Alucard watching you like a predator stalking its prey. Your cunt fluttered, and you leaned back to feel his chest against your body. “Come here, beautiful, sit on my cock again yeah?” Trevor’s deep voice brought you back to him, slowly sinking yourself down on his girth. You whined, clenching around him. He filled you up, stretching out your pussy a bit more than Alucard did. “Trevor,” you started with a hiccup “so good, feels good.” You repeated, grinding yourself down on his cock feeling your hips flush against his. He gripped at your hips, stilling you. You furrowed your brows, wanting to keep bouncing on him, before he angled you forward--and a new feeling came over you entirely.

“A-ah, fuck!” You cried out, Alucard slowly pushing his own length into your sloppy pussy. You couldn’t see straight, all you could think of was how full these men were making you feel. You panted like a bitch in heat, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ and drooling onto Trevor. Your eyes were fluttering close, tears dripping down with a renewed sense of overwhelming. “Doing so well, darling girl..” Your lover whispered, slowly pushing in, deeper, deeper, until his cock was nuzzled right where it belonged--in your weeping cunt. The men let you take a minute to breathe, feeling your legs tremble and pussy twitching around two dicks stuffed deep in you. Barely a moment with them both inside you and you already felt fucked stupid--not able to make any coherent sentences, just small phrases about how fucking full you were, how good they felt, how much you loved your husband and cherished your friend. Trevor couldn’t help but laugh, wiping away tears as they flooded your cheeks. “Look how adorable she is.” He cooed, giving an experimental thrust up, and hearing your whines pour out your mouth. 

Alucard groaned, kissing at your neck, pulling you flush against him and wrapping long fingers around your throat. “Can you feel how deep we are, darling?” He whispered against your skin, eyes traveling down to the bulge in your tummy. He could hear Trevor swear under his breath, both starting to fuck up into you. You nodded, as best you could, trying to speak but feeling too much. “Mhm, mhm, s’deep, so full, so much” You repeated, hands moving between Trevor’s stomach and Alucard’s head--you couldn’t concentrate enough to keep them steady in one place. The stretch was painfully delicious, and now they moved opposite each other--when one thrusted in the other pulled out, never leaving you empty. They rubbed and prodded in all the right places, pressure on your walls making you go insane. Alucard’s fingers on the hand that was around your throat crept up, shoving the digits deep into your mouth, pulling and stretching at your cheeks. Your eyes rolled, lids fluttered, and you did your best to keep breathing. 

They could barely hear the squelch of your pussy, even though it was so fucking wet and covering their bodies with juices, because of how fucking loud you were being. “F-fuck, need you to cum, beautiful--not gonna last long” Belmont mumbled in front of you, rubbing his fingers on your swollen clit. Instantly they both felt you grip on their cocks, trying to milk them right into you. Your cries were still muffled with Alucard fingers in your mouth, practically fucking your face. He nosed your temple, his breathing heavy in your ear as he fucked up into you. Trevor’s free hand replaced Alucard’s around your throat--giving the dhampir full reign to finger fuck your mouth. The coil in your belly snapped, Trevor  quickly rubbing on your nub while you came over them--wet and sloppy, squirting onto the sheets below you. “Fucking--pull out, Belmont” You heard Alucard hiss, pulling you off in time to have the brunette shooting his cum on your belly, creeping high enough to land on your tits. Alucard had you to himself now, fucking up into you like a flesh light, using you until it was his turn to let his sticky ropes of cum cover your insides the way Trevor covered you.

-

Trevor left shortly after, helping clean you up before taking his leave with a sweet kiss to the cheek and a thank you. You sighed against Alucard’s chest, feeling his arms around your waist in the warm bath, you could fall asleep right then and there. He cleaned your skin as you relaxed against him, then moved on to your hair, before you spoke.

“You think he’ll bring Sypha next time?”

“Next time?”

[abysswalkerastraea1]

Dom! Alucard x Sub! GN Reader

~ Alucard thinks it’s about time you master the blade, however, it gets quite competitive~

- Based off of the scene where he’s sparring with the twins (I know, ew) and he says, “Do you want to get close,” because it drives me insane.

Includes: , choking, minor threatening with sharp objects (all in good fun don’t worry), porn with plot, manhandling, rough sex

- Enjoy and feel free to send a Castlevania request 🧛‍♂️💙

“Maybe if your weapon of choice wasn’t so obnoxiously long I wouldn’t keep fucking losing.” You were annoyed and quite frustrated. You and Alucard had been sparring for an hour already and without fail he would gain the upper hand and “kill you” each time. “While size can be a great disadvantage at times whats most important in battle is skill.” You gritted your teeth, how many times was he going to fucking say that?

“How many times are you going to fucking say that!? I have skill. You’ve seen me fight, I just can’t get close to you, I’m used to far range weapons, not stuff like swords and knives.” He sticks his blade in the ground and faces you, crossing his arms. “So you’re saying the only problem is you can’t get close?” You hesitate. “I mean… yeah? At least it feels like it is… I dunno” you said with a shrug. Alucard sighed and unstuck his weapon from the ground, returning to a fighting stance which put your guard back up. “Perhaps I should take it step by step.”

Another hour passed, you expected to get the hang of it after a couple more tries but you just couldn’t. You could almost cry out of frustration. “See?! This is the problem, you have a longer weapon than I do and I can’t get you from a distance like I’m used to! It’s not me it’s you!” Alucard holds his blade in both hands, looking down at it in mock fascination, avoiding your fuming gaze. He had a cheeky smile on his face. That bastard.

“Hmm… what ever do you mean?” He looks up at you with a smug look. You feel your eye twitch. “You’re doing this on purpose! You’re not even trying to fight me you’re just dicking around! I was wondering why we were even doing this in the first place.” He laughed which made you even more irritated. “Enough with the games, grab a different weapon and let’s make this fair!” Alucard froze, thinking to himself. He then stuck his blade in the ground once more. “Alright,” he said.

He didn’t grab a weapon. You looked at him, confused, “You get to take the first hit. Go on. I’ve made it fair for you, surely you can’t miss now.” He clasped his hands behind his back, that stupid smirk still on his face. You threw all caution to the wind and swung at him. Your blade stuck into something. Finally!

Never mind. It was the tree Alucard was originally in front of. Shit! He used his inhuman speed to dodge you. Does he really think using vampire magic is more fair than using a weapon of the same class? You grunted as you attempted to pull your blade from the tree, leaving you defenseless.

Alucard took this to his advantage and used his speed to grab you from behind. One hand wrapped around your throat as the other was around your midsection. He let out a hiss right beside your ear making you shriek. You felt his fangs at your neck which made you shiver. He wouldn’t would he? Thankfully no. Instead he kisses the pulse point on the side of your neck, letting out a chuckle, his other arm coming from your throat to wrap around your waist. “It looks like I’ve killed you once again. Your blood was quite filling.”

You started pounding his arms with your fists, resulting in another chuckle coming from him and his grip tightening. You panted, out of breath from both the fear and the way you wailed down on his arms just now. “You’re such a dick,” you say with a huff. He huffs out a small laugh before moving his mouth right beside your ear and saying in a sultry voice, “But didn’t you want to get close?” You tensed in his arms and felt your body flush at the way he was flirting with you. “I meant… uh- I…,” you tried getting your retort out but found yourself stuttering instead. His hand had teasingly made its way down your stomach and the tips of his fingers were now at the edge of your trousers. He was so far away but close at the same time.

You gulped and gave up on trying to defend yourself with your words. “It’s getting dark. We should head inside” Alucard abruptly pulled away from you making you stumble on your feet a bit. You snapped out of your trance when you heard his distant voice from the front stairs leading to the entrance of your shared mansion. “It’s dinner time darling, why don’t you come inside,” you said a quick dirty joke to yourself about his choice of words and followed him into the house.

As always, dinner was delicious. Since he cooked it was only fair that you tend to the dishes, and that’s what you did. You had a steady flow going, only two plates and a fork left to go and then you could sleep with a full belly and Alucard’s warmth by your side. Your flow was ruined when he came up behind you and wrapped his hands around your waist. You stopped washing the plate at the feeling of his large and warm hands holding you so tightly. You were about to lean back into him, the blush on your face darkening when he said lowly against your ear, “Excuse me,” with a smirk. He then released you and reached both arms above you to grab a cup from the cabinet above your head. He poured himself a glass of water and you watched him in a daze.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been staring until suddenly he set his drink down and stopped in front of you once more. “I’ll see you upstairs darling.” He softly kissed your forehead and turned, grabbing his water and heading upstairs to your shared bedroom. You then commenced with washing the rest of the dishes at a faster pace than you’d like to admit.

By the time you had finished, it fell completely dark outside. You carefully made your way to your bedroom expecting to see Alucard reading, however, you were pleasantly surprised to see him no where in the room. You assumed he was in the bathroom washing up for the night. You decided to get into your own night clothes before doing the same. You had finished stripping completely naked before you saw a flash of white and were forced onto the bed being held down by a weight. You started thrashing about trying to free yourself but stopped once you heard that same, annoying (sexy) laugh ring from above you. Alucard had your wrists pinned beside your head, your legs hanging of the edge of the bed with him hunched over you, standing up halfway. “It appears I remain victorious. The vampire has drank your blood and now you’re dead.”

You let out an irritated groan before bringing your leg up between your bodies and shoving him back with your foot and standing up. “Will you stop doing that? You’ve given me five heart attacks today.” He smiles and approaches you, the look in his eyes has changed. He isn’t coming off as a tease anymore, he really wants you. And he wants you now. However, he’s a gentleman and he’s patient. He stops before you and pulls you flush against him. His shirt was off and your bare skin felt warm against his. He tilts your chin up and makes eye contact with you before saying, “I promise I’m done with the scares. But I’m not done with you completely.” He brings you in for a heated kiss that you return, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He walks forward some more until the backs of your legs meet the mattress and you fall back again with him on top of you. His mouth never left yours for a second. He continues to make out with you, his plan to catch you off guard, and as his tongue mingles with yours, he summons his long sword and makes it come down in one quick motion, piercing the mattress right beside your head. The handle sticks out of it as you turn your head towards it, mouth agape and eyes wide, lightly panting from the way he was kissing you earlier.

You feel Alucard leave your body which makes you look back up at him from your place on the bed. He starts undoing his pants as he speaks to you. “I feel that mastering many weapons and getting out of your comfort zone is important. Especially for battle,” he states while finally undoing his pants all the way. “… so I felt…” he steps out of his pants before continuing, “… that it was necessary that you learn to get used to a close range weapon such as that sword.” You look over to it once more, still taken aback by fear and lust.

“So here’s what I had in mind for your training.” He says while spreading both of your legs as far as they’ll go with your knees next to your hips. “If you can grab that sword and hold it to my throat…” he aligns his hard on at your entrance. “Then you finally win and we don’t have to train the rest of the week.” He slides into you making your tummy feel full almost instantly. Your eyes roll back and you both let out a sigh. Alucard bites his lip and regains his composure, “but if you lose… then I get to tie you up and edge you for the length of a training session.”

The stakes were high. You couldn’t believe this was happening yet at the same time you were glad it was, you had never been so intimidated and turned on in your life. You shakily nod your head and mutter an, “okay,” and shiver as you feel him twitch inside of you. “Good. So the deal is on. You may start now.” Not even a second after Alucard finishes his sentence he starts thrusting into you at the perfect tempo hitting the squishy sensitive spot all the way in the back of your hole. Your hands fist the sheets and you let out a loud moan at the sensation. How were you going to do this?

In between desperate gasps and whines you finally looked up at Alucard, still hunched over you with his eyes squeezed shut holding back his own moans of pleasure. He was distracted. You looked to your right, biting your lip and tearing up at the consistent pleasure overwhelming your body. At a particularly hard thrust you gasp and your arms flailed outwards on either side of you. Your left hand curled back into the duvet underneath you, but your right hand managed to shoot out and loosely grab the handle of the sword. Now all you had to do was yank it out of the mattress and hold the blade to his neck. Just as you were about to yank the sword from its place in the mattress, your breath was knocked from you as you felt Alucard’s hand squeeze each pressure point on the sides of your neck making you let out a yelp in shock and pleasure.

Alucard slowed his thrusting down, but the power behind each thrust made sure that he still hit the spot inside of you. He let out a sadistic laugh and buried his face in your neck. “A little early to stop now don’t you think?” He said before tightening his grip on your throat. “Ugh~ please… this isn’t fairrr” you whined. “There’s no such thing as fairness out on the battlefield sweetheart.” He said while still right next to your ear. He stills his hips. “You take what’s given to you and do what you can to come out on top.” Shortly afterwards he moved you up further on the bed, the sword becoming further away. You let out a pathetic whine, losing all hope at beating him at his own game. He was too clever, too strong, and the sword was very different from your usual weapon of choice.

You lost all hope until he got behind you, his back facing the headboard and you on all fours, facing the edge of the bed. You could still reach out and grab the sword. You made a desperate and poorly timed advancement towards the weapon but were quickly pulled back by your hips and slammed onto Alucard hard cock once more. You gasp and moaned out at how rough he was being with you, you felt amazing. That’s his plan though, to distract you with pleasure so you lose. For now you can’t keep getting distracted by the way he deliciously fills you up, or how he hits that same spot each time with skilled precision, and how his grip on your waist was strong and warm- snap out of it.

You meekly looked up, staring at the handle sticking out of the mattress. Your eyes were starting to tear up from pleasure and frustration, you wanted to just give into him so badly, but at the same time you had to show him you were capable. Damn your competitive spirit. After staring at the handle for some time and contemplating when to lunge out and grab it, Alucards hips slowed once more as he leaned down to your ear, still drilling into you with slower but very powerful movements. “Go on, take it. It’s right. There.” He punctuated the last couple words with hard slams into you after each one. You whimpered out for him, the tears of pleasure and immense effort getting ready to overflow. “I-I can’t… ngh~,” “Of course you can. It’s right in front of you. Just act like I’m not here.” This fucking guy.

He took his head away from the side of your face, it was easier to focus this time. While he was still pleasuring you immensely, his slow pace benefited you greatly. You took a deep breath and put all your weight on your left arm, using the right to reach out and grab the handle. Just as you were a finger tips length from touching the hilt of the sword, your world seemed to flash before your eyes. Alucard had forced your upper body down, your face now shoved into the mattress and your ass up in the air, he was now gaining speed once more and with the increase of speed your moaning went up in volume until you were sobbing out of pleasure. He had somehow gotten deeper into you with this new position.

You saw his hands plant themselves next your head as his upper body hovered just directly above you, his thrusts never stopping or slowing down. “Sorry…” he says through a grunt. “I just felt like I could fit more and wanted to make sure,” he says with a teasing smirk on his lips. You whine and sob in response as he hits your sweet spot from a different angle. He was so mean to you, but you loved it.

“P-please, I don’t care anymore…” Alucard stilled, listening to what you had to say. “I just want-want to s-see you please,” you whined out. How cute. Alucard huffed out a small laugh and his eyes softened. He pulled out of you momentarily and flipped you onto your back, your head close to the edge of the bed. His softened gaze reassured you, he entered you once more with ease due to your wetness. He let out a hiss at the feeling of you squeezing down on him once more, “You’re s-so good for me,” he said as he started moving at a more moderate pace. Like always the soft tip of his cock found that spot inside of you that made you arch your back and moan out in pleasure with your eyes closed. “God… so pretty- ugh~,” he continued.

You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down into a hot and passionate kiss, similar to the one from before. His tongue massaged yours and you let out a tiny noise of pleasure into his mouth. Making him twitch inside of you. He was close and so were you. You both pulled away from the kiss, panting. His speed picked up once more. “Fuck I’m close,” he panted into your ear. “Mmph- me too. Please let me- fuck… let me cum,” you said through pants and whining, making him flush. “Please… I want to finish this with you. Go ahead my love. Fuck~.” He hardened his thrusts, meeting your sweet spot with more aggression, you let out a small yelp, eyes rolling back to your head. Alucard put his face in your neck, his hot breath coming out in huffs against your skin. His arms beside your head. Perfect.

You took the opportunity to reach out and grab the sword, fully prepared to bring it up to his neck and claim your victory. And that you did. It went smoother than you could have expected. You grabbed the handle and quickly yanked the blade out of the mattress, having wound your muscles up with enough strength to do so. Your plan soon fell apart, however, as Alucard saw this and, before the blade could touch his neck, he pinned your sword holding arm down to the bed, your grip loosening and your beacon of hope clattering to the floor. You didn’t have time to be scared with the way he continued to pound into you. You both moaned out in unison as you came together. He filled you full with his cum as you spurted all over his chest, crying out with a loud whimper.

You both were panting, finally coming back to earth to address your little stunt pulled just now. Your body heated up as you met his predatory gaze staring down at you. A small, almost cocky smirk on his lips. “I-,” you didn’t have time to defend your actions as his hand had come back down to your throat, adding pressure to the arteries on either side making you whine and start writhing beneath him. He kept the pressure there as your body calmed down. Was he going to say anything?

He answered your question and leaned down to you once more, keeping his hand wrapped threateningly tight around your neck. “I believe I said a punishment was in order if you lost, dearest.” You whimper and nod your head to the best of your ability.

He chuckled, letting go of your throat and allowing you to breathe. “Good, so you did listen.” He finally pulled out of you and disappeared into the bathroom. He came back with a wet wash cloth and helped wipe you down to cool you off and clean up the mess in between your legs. After cleaning you and himself off he got up to put his night clothes on and helped you do the same. Once you were both snug and ready for bed he picked you up and placed you beside him. You gave him one last loving kiss on the lips and rested your head on his shoulder.

He caressed the side of your face and the last thing you heard him say was, “Get some sleep my love,” followed by a forehead kiss before he continued, “You’re going to need it.”

[abysswalkerastraea1]

Dom! Alucard x Sub! GN Reader

~ Alucard thinks it’s about time you master the blade, however, it gets quite competitive~

- Based off of the scene where he’s sparring with the twins (I know, ew) and he says, “Do you want to get close,” because it drives me insane.

Includes: , choking, minor threatening with sharp objects (all in good fun don’t worry), porn with plot, manhandling, rough sex

- Enjoy and feel free to send a Castlevania request 🧛‍♂️💙

“Maybe if your weapon of choice wasn’t so obnoxiously long I wouldn’t keep fucking losing.” You were annoyed and quite frustrated. You and Alucard had been sparring for an hour already and without fail he would gain the upper hand and “kill you” each time. “While size can be a great disadvantage at times whats most important in battle is skill.” You gritted your teeth, how many times was he going to fucking say that?

“How many times are you going to fucking say that!? I have skill. You’ve seen me fight, I just can’t get close to you, I’m used to far range weapons, not stuff like swords and knives.” He sticks his blade in the ground and faces you, crossing his arms. “So you’re saying the only problem is you can’t get close?” You hesitate. “I mean… yeah? At least it feels like it is… I dunno” you said with a shrug. Alucard sighed and unstuck his weapon from the ground, returning to a fighting stance which put your guard back up. “Perhaps I should take it step by step.”

Another hour passed, you expected to get the hang of it after a couple more tries but you just couldn’t. You could almost cry out of frustration. “See?! This is the problem, you have a longer weapon than I do and I can’t get you from a distance like I’m used to! It’s not me it’s you!” Alucard holds his blade in both hands, looking down at it in mock fascination, avoiding your fuming gaze. He had a cheeky smile on his face. That bastard.

“Hmm… what ever do you mean?” He looks up at you with a smug look. You feel your eye twitch. “You’re doing this on purpose! You’re not even trying to fight me you’re just dicking around! I was wondering why we were even doing this in the first place.” He laughed which made you even more irritated. “Enough with the games, grab a different weapon and let’s make this fair!” Alucard froze, thinking to himself. He then stuck his blade in the ground once more. “Alright,” he said.

He didn’t grab a weapon. You looked at him, confused, “You get to take the first hit. Go on. I’ve made it fair for you, surely you can’t miss now.” He clasped his hands behind his back, that stupid smirk still on his face. You threw all caution to the wind and swung at him. Your blade stuck into something. Finally!

Never mind. It was the tree Alucard was originally in front of. Shit! He used his inhuman speed to dodge you. Does he really think using vampire magic is more fair than using a weapon of the same class? You grunted as you attempted to pull your blade from the tree, leaving you defenseless.

Alucard took this to his advantage and used his speed to grab you from behind. One hand wrapped around your throat as the other was around your midsection. He let out a hiss right beside your ear making you shriek. You felt his fangs at your neck which made you shiver. He wouldn’t would he? Thankfully no. Instead he kisses the pulse point on the side of your neck, letting out a chuckle, his other arm coming from your throat to wrap around your waist. “It looks like I’ve killed you once again. Your blood was quite filling.”

You started pounding his arms with your fists, resulting in another chuckle coming from him and his grip tightening. You panted, out of breath from both the fear and the way you wailed down on his arms just now. “You’re such a dick,” you say with a huff. He huffs out a small laugh before moving his mouth right beside your ear and saying in a sultry voice, “But didn’t you want to get close?” You tensed in his arms and felt your body flush at the way he was flirting with you. “I meant… uh- I…,” you tried getting your retort out but found yourself stuttering instead. His hand had teasingly made its way down your stomach and the tips of his fingers were now at the edge of your trousers. He was so far away but close at the same time.

You gulped and gave up on trying to defend yourself with your words. “It’s getting dark. We should head inside” Alucard abruptly pulled away from you making you stumble on your feet a bit. You snapped out of your trance when you heard his distant voice from the front stairs leading to the entrance of your shared mansion. “It’s dinner time darling, why don’t you come inside,” you said a quick dirty joke to yourself about his choice of words and followed him into the house.

As always, dinner was delicious. Since he cooked it was only fair that you tend to the dishes, and that’s what you did. You had a steady flow going, only two plates and a fork left to go and then you could sleep with a full belly and Alucard’s warmth by your side. Your flow was ruined when he came up behind you and wrapped his hands around your waist. You stopped washing the plate at the feeling of his large and warm hands holding you so tightly. You were about to lean back into him, the blush on your face darkening when he said lowly against your ear, “Excuse me,” with a smirk. He then released you and reached both arms above you to grab a cup from the cabinet above your head. He poured himself a glass of water and you watched him in a daze.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been staring until suddenly he set his drink down and stopped in front of you once more. “I’ll see you upstairs darling.” He softly kissed your forehead and turned, grabbing his water and heading upstairs to your shared bedroom. You then commenced with washing the rest of the dishes at a faster pace than you’d like to admit.

By the time you had finished, it fell completely dark outside. You carefully made your way to your bedroom expecting to see Alucard reading, however, you were pleasantly surprised to see him no where in the room. You assumed he was in the bathroom washing up for the night. You decided to get into your own night clothes before doing the same. You had finished stripping completely naked before you saw a flash of white and were forced onto the bed being held down by a weight. You started thrashing about trying to free yourself but stopped once you heard that same, annoying (sexy) laugh ring from above you. Alucard had your wrists pinned beside your head, your legs hanging of the edge of the bed with him hunched over you, standing up halfway. “It appears I remain victorious. The vampire has drank your blood and now you’re dead.”

You let out an irritated groan before bringing your leg up between your bodies and shoving him back with your foot and standing up. “Will you stop doing that? You’ve given me five heart attacks today.” He smiles and approaches you, the look in his eyes has changed. He isn’t coming off as a tease anymore, he really wants you. And he wants you now. However, he’s a gentleman and he’s patient. He stops before you and pulls you flush against him. His shirt was off and your bare skin felt warm against his. He tilts your chin up and makes eye contact with you before saying, “I promise I’m done with the scares. But I’m not done with you completely.” He brings you in for a heated kiss that you return, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He walks forward some more until the backs of your legs meet the mattress and you fall back again with him on top of you. His mouth never left yours for a second. He continues to make out with you, his plan to catch you off guard, and as his tongue mingles with yours, he summons his long sword and makes it come down in one quick motion, piercing the mattress right beside your head. The handle sticks out of it as you turn your head towards it, mouth agape and eyes wide, lightly panting from the way he was kissing you earlier.

You feel Alucard leave your body which makes you look back up at him from your place on the bed. He starts undoing his pants as he speaks to you. “I feel that mastering many weapons and getting out of your comfort zone is important. Especially for battle,” he states while finally undoing his pants all the way. “… so I felt…” he steps out of his pants before continuing, “… that it was necessary that you learn to get used to a close range weapon such as that sword.” You look over to it once more, still taken aback by fear and lust.

“So here’s what I had in mind for your training.” He says while spreading both of your legs as far as they’ll go with your knees next to your hips. “If you can grab that sword and hold it to my throat…” he aligns his hard on at your entrance. “Then you finally win and we don’t have to train the rest of the week.” He slides into you making your tummy feel full almost instantly. Your eyes roll back and you both let out a sigh. Alucard bites his lip and regains his composure, “but if you lose… then I get to tie you up and edge you for the length of a training session.”

The stakes were high. You couldn’t believe this was happening yet at the same time you were glad it was, you had never been so intimidated and turned on in your life. You shakily nod your head and mutter an, “okay,” and shiver as you feel him twitch inside of you. “Good. So the deal is on. You may start now.” Not even a second after Alucard finishes his sentence he starts thrusting into you at the perfect tempo hitting the squishy sensitive spot all the way in the back of your hole. Your hands fist the sheets and you let out a loud moan at the sensation. How were you going to do this?

In between desperate gasps and whines you finally looked up at Alucard, still hunched over you with his eyes squeezed shut holding back his own moans of pleasure. He was distracted. You looked to your right, biting your lip and tearing up at the consistent pleasure overwhelming your body. At a particularly hard thrust you gasp and your arms flailed outwards on either side of you. Your left hand curled back into the duvet underneath you, but your right hand managed to shoot out and loosely grab the handle of the sword. Now all you had to do was yank it out of the mattress and hold the blade to his neck. Just as you were about to yank the sword from its place in the mattress, your breath was knocked from you as you felt Alucard’s hand squeeze each pressure point on the sides of your neck making you let out a yelp in shock and pleasure.

Alucard slowed his thrusting down, but the power behind each thrust made sure that he still hit the spot inside of you. He let out a sadistic laugh and buried his face in your neck. “A little early to stop now don’t you think?” He said before tightening his grip on your throat. “Ugh~ please… this isn’t fairrr” you whined. “There’s no such thing as fairness out on the battlefield sweetheart.” He said while still right next to your ear. He stills his hips. “You take what’s given to you and do what you can to come out on top.” Shortly afterwards he moved you up further on the bed, the sword becoming further away. You let out a pathetic whine, losing all hope at beating him at his own game. He was too clever, too strong, and the sword was very different from your usual weapon of choice.

You lost all hope until he got behind you, his back facing the headboard and you on all fours, facing the edge of the bed. You could still reach out and grab the sword. You made a desperate and poorly timed advancement towards the weapon but were quickly pulled back by your hips and slammed onto Alucard hard cock once more. You gasp and moaned out at how rough he was being with you, you felt amazing. That’s his plan though, to distract you with pleasure so you lose. For now you can’t keep getting distracted by the way he deliciously fills you up, or how he hits that same spot each time with skilled precision, and how his grip on your waist was strong and warm- snap out of it.

You meekly looked up, staring at the handle sticking out of the mattress. Your eyes were starting to tear up from pleasure and frustration, you wanted to just give into him so badly, but at the same time you had to show him you were capable. Damn your competitive spirit. After staring at the handle for some time and contemplating when to lunge out and grab it, Alucards hips slowed once more as he leaned down to your ear, still drilling into you with slower but very powerful movements. “Go on, take it. It’s right. There.” He punctuated the last couple words with hard slams into you after each one. You whimpered out for him, the tears of pleasure and immense effort getting ready to overflow. “I-I can’t… ngh~,” “Of course you can. It’s right in front of you. Just act like I’m not here.” This fucking guy.

He took his head away from the side of your face, it was easier to focus this time. While he was still pleasuring you immensely, his slow pace benefited you greatly. You took a deep breath and put all your weight on your left arm, using the right to reach out and grab the handle. Just as you were a finger tips length from touching the hilt of the sword, your world seemed to flash before your eyes. Alucard had forced your upper body down, your face now shoved into the mattress and your ass up in the air, he was now gaining speed once more and with the increase of speed your moaning went up in volume until you were sobbing out of pleasure. He had somehow gotten deeper into you with this new position.

You saw his hands plant themselves next your head as his upper body hovered just directly above you, his thrusts never stopping or slowing down. “Sorry…” he says through a grunt. “I just felt like I could fit more and wanted to make sure,” he says with a teasing smirk on his lips. You whine and sob in response as he hits your sweet spot from a different angle. He was so mean to you, but you loved it.

“P-please, I don’t care anymore…” Alucard stilled, listening to what you had to say. “I just want-want to s-see you please,” you whined out. How cute. Alucard huffed out a small laugh and his eyes softened. He pulled out of you momentarily and flipped you onto your back, your head close to the edge of the bed. His softened gaze reassured you, he entered you once more with ease due to your wetness. He let out a hiss at the feeling of you squeezing down on him once more, “You’re s-so good for me,” he said as he started moving at a more moderate pace. Like always the soft tip of his cock found that spot inside of you that made you arch your back and moan out in pleasure with your eyes closed. “God… so pretty- ugh~,” he continued.

You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down into a hot and passionate kiss, similar to the one from before. His tongue massaged yours and you let out a tiny noise of pleasure into his mouth. Making him twitch inside of you. He was close and so were you. You both pulled away from the kiss, panting. His speed picked up once more. “Fuck I’m close,” he panted into your ear. “Mmph- me too. Please let me- fuck… let me cum,” you said through pants and whining, making him flush. “Please… I want to finish this with you. Go ahead my love. Fuck~.” He hardened his thrusts, meeting your sweet spot with more aggression, you let out a small yelp, eyes rolling back to your head. Alucard put his face in your neck, his hot breath coming out in huffs against your skin. His arms beside your head. Perfect.

You took the opportunity to reach out and grab the sword, fully prepared to bring it up to his neck and claim your victory. And that you did. It went smoother than you could have expected. You grabbed the handle and quickly yanked the blade out of the mattress, having wound your muscles up with enough strength to do so. Your plan soon fell apart, however, as Alucard saw this and, before the blade could touch his neck, he pinned your sword holding arm down to the bed, your grip loosening and your beacon of hope clattering to the floor. You didn’t have time to be scared with the way he continued to pound into you. You both moaned out in unison as you came together. He filled you full with his cum as you spurted all over his chest, crying out with a loud whimper.

You both were panting, finally coming back to earth to address your little stunt pulled just now. Your body heated up as you met his predatory gaze staring down at you. A small, almost cocky smirk on his lips. “I-,” you didn’t have time to defend your actions as his hand had come back down to your throat, adding pressure to the arteries on either side making you whine and start writhing beneath him. He kept the pressure there as your body calmed down. Was he going to say anything?

He answered your question and leaned down to you once more, keeping his hand wrapped threateningly tight around your neck. “I believe I said a punishment was in order if you lost, dearest.” You whimper and nod your head to the best of your ability.

He chuckled, letting go of your throat and allowing you to breathe. “Good, so you did listen.” He finally pulled out of you and disappeared into the bathroom. He came back with a wet wash cloth and helped wipe you down to cool you off and clean up the mess in between your legs. After cleaning you and himself off he got up to put his night clothes on and helped you do the same. Once you were both snug and ready for bed he picked you up and placed you beside him. You gave him one last loving kiss on the lips and rested your head on his shoulder.

He caressed the side of your face and the last thing you heard him say was, “Get some sleep my love,” followed by a forehead kiss before he continued, “You’re going to need it.”