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#And once that image got in my head I knew.
cumikering · 3 days
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Neighbour Ghost x reader 7
2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1)
“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.
Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.
He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.
“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.
“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”
It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.
“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.
That, too, was true.
Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.
It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.
It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.
It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…
He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.
Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.
He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.
And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.
Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.
Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.
“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.
“Saturday, sir?”
“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”
“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”
Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.
“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”
When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.
“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.
Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.
He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”
The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.
People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.
When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.
The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.
As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.
Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.
You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.
He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.
I don’t care how hard it gets…
He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.
With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.
So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.
It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.
Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.
He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.
“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”
Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”
Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.
He didn’t make to the top 3.
Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.
Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.
He left for his office.
“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”
He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.
“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”
Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.
“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”
He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.
“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.
Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.
It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.
Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.
“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”
Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.
Desperation was a lethal sentiment.
And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.
“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.
A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.
“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.
“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”
The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.
“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.
Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes, chuckling to himself.
“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”
“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.
His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”
“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”
He laughed as another tear slipped.
Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.
He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.
Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.
His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?
With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.
He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.
It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.
“Hi, is Simon in?”
His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.
“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”
@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast @alright-i-guesss @maresoleil @mehjustalasshere @rrtxcmt
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kefiteria · 2 days
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FOR YOUR EYES ONLY.
A comfort letter from Scaramouche to you.
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So, I've noticed you've been retreating into your mind more than usual lately. It's like you're doing a disappearing act even Houdini would envy. But hey, I get it. People are complicated creatures, and occasionally it feels safer to hide behind our thoughts than to face the chaos out there.
About this facade you've got going on. You know, the one where you're holding on to your inner child like it's a winning lottery ticket? It's almost comical how tightly you cling to it, as if someone's lurking around the corner waiting to snatch it away. Newsflash: nobody's taking it from you, dear.
Now, about those tears. I know, I know, crying is for the weak, right? Wrong. Even the toughest nuts crack sometimes. Take it from me, I've shed more tears than I care to admit, and yet here I am, still standing, still better as ever. You don't have to plaster on that smile 24/7, you know. Let those tears flow like a leaky faucet if you need to.
And speaking of tough times, let's talk about failure. It's not the end of the world, despite what your overactive brain might be telling you. Trust me, I've had my fair share of failures, and look at me now—still standing, scheming and myself.
So, when are you going to cut yourself some slack? Stop beating yourself up over things that are as out of your control as the weather. Tomorrow's just another day in the grand circus of life, and guess what? I'm your ringmaster, baby. You're not in this alone.
And those feelings you've been bottling up? Yeah, it's time to pop the cork and let 'em out. Trust me, it's like a pressure valve for the soul. Cry if you need to, scream into the void if you must. Just don't keep it all locked up inside. That's a recipe for disaster, believe me.
So, here's the deal: you're not alone in this. I've got your back, whether you're crying like a baby or plotting world domination (ugh just do it in moderation though). Just remember, it's okay to let your guard down once in a while. After all, even the sharpest swords need a little sharpening now and then.
Alright, let's wrap this up before I start growing a conscience or something equally absurd. Seriously, who knew pouring my heart out on paper could be so exhausting? I feel like I've been on a marathon run through a field of emotional landmines, and I'm not even wearing my running shoes.
But hey, if this little rant of mine manages to knock some sense into that stubborn head of yours, then I guess it's worth the carpal tunnel I'm bound to get from all this writing. Just promise me one thing: don't go making a habit out of this whole “feeling your feelings” nonsense. It's bad for my image.
So, there you have it. Consider this your one and only free pass to the sappy side of Scaramouche. Don't get used to it. Now go on, get out there and conquer the world, or cry yourself a river, whichever floats your boat. Just remember: you're not alone in this crazy circus we call life. I've got your back, whether you like it or not.
“It's okay, your world, and feelings are precious, so precious just like you are now.”
Fondly yours (don't make it a habit),
Scaramouche.
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moonspirit · 2 days
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what do u think the alliances favourite form of media is? (books, poetry, music, movies etc.) now that they’re able to freely enjoy such things
Hiya!
Oh well xD I have some strong opinions on this one.
For Armin, his fascination with books will not cease, obviously, and good for him if he finds a library he can spend all day cooped up in, reading about wonderful new things. But also, I like thinking that he's gonna enjoy music a lot. Once he gets his hands on some records, and the Alliance hauls a gramophone into their house, he's going to really become a music enthusiast. I see him bonding with Pieck over their mutual love for good music.
(also. Once he discovers a new machine or contraption or invention, it's over for everyone.)
Annie - well @aquietjune introduced the image of Annie being a movies lover, and it's been stuck in my head ever since xD It's just adorable to think she enjoys going to watch the moving pictures and can spend any amount of time there. But aside from this, while I think she's not much of a book person, I like the idea of her enjoying crossword puzzles a lot. She'd like to have something to keep her mind busy and they're good for that. Ofc, this means Armin and her can have dining table dates where he's reading a book and she's doing a puzzle and he helps her with words when they're being particularly difficult.
Jean - XD oh god. I imagine this guy likes activities that exude an air of elegance and class. This could be painting, or an interest in fine art, and poetry, museums, art galleries, the like. I think he'd also enjoy the movies and maybe he and Annie could go together for a few (tho she's not having any of his intellectual put-on opinions on them).
Pieck - she's gonna be a plant lady 100%. There will be so many plants in her room and in the house that a giant leaf is smacking everyone in the face wherever they go. I just think she's going to find some comfort raising baby plants especially if we consider that she's the only real "odd one out" in the Alliance. She's lost everyone she knew and loved and is a newcomer among the others. But! There's also the music! She's got good taste in music and I imagine she's going to find some closeness with Armin in this interest.
As for Connie and Reiner. See, I really think they'd enjoy festivals and carnivals and board games and shooting games haha xD Not that any of the others would enjoy them less, but they're the first to make a beeline if there's something going on somewhere. Reiner canonically enjoys playing chess too (if I'm remembering right, he used to play a lot with Armin during their cadet years). Connie would enjoy mimicry and jesting shows(?) a lot (plenty to laugh at) and I think Reiner would also enjoy romance novels a lot and get too involved in the drama. I just like making fun of him a lot sorry
Not related to media but I think taking care of pets would help them all, but Reiner in specific. Not going into details here cuz that is another tangent, but for someone with so many suicidal thoughts and ideations, finding joy in bonding with a dog or cat or any animal really, would be good for him.
Falco and Gabi? - they probably love everything! Though Gabi is too restless to sit in one place for anything too long lol. Falco would probably get great book recs from Armin.
Levi - leave the man alone in peace, he's got a tea shop. (But I also hc that he likes the radio a lot)
Mikasa? - I think she'd also like radio broadcasts a lot, and going to plays. I have a very hard time getting into her headspace 🥲
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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"If PD-MDZS drew He Xuan, would he be a Man or a Fish?"
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xbellaxcarolinax · 11 months
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Scent
Miguel O’Hara X f!reader
Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)
Word count: 4k+
Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel's name a lot lmfao not beta read.
Minors DNI.
Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.
...
Miguel was fucking losing it. 
He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep his head on straight. There was a thick fog clouding his judgment, disorienting him like a fever he couldn’t sweat out.
It started with a scent.
Light at first, a barely there whiff of something. 
It lingered at HQ, trailing between passageways and different conference rooms. There were times when it didn't linger at all for weeks. Then it'd start right up again, progressively getting worse.
It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. How could it not be when you spent the most time with him?
It happened once a month for a week at most, and like clockwork, his body reacted viciously, betraying him of all logical thoughts. Your scent seized him by the throat in a sort of chokehold. Some days were unbearable, your scent so strong that he’d have to fight with every muscle and nerve in his body not to touch you, to not bend you over and—
Well. That wasn't a healthy thought.
Recently (the last two months to be exact), he’d have to excuse himself and step out of the room for a few minutes whenever you’d arrive from your world to report for duty, sneaking off to the restroom to tug on his cock till he felt some relief. Images of you would flash in his mind: you on your knees with your lips wrapped around him, or the pained face he'd imagine would twist your features when sinking down on his thick length. He'd come in his hand, sticky ropes of white, using his release to coat his stiff length and go again.
He never truly felt satiated. It was something to keep his appetite at bay. But once he’d come back and face you he’d get hard all over again, drugged out on whatever smell it was that emanated off of you.
He’d salivate like a dog and his bulge would grow uncomfortably large in his skin-tight suit. It got to the point where he couldn’t face you, and whenever you’d greet him he’d return it with a simple grunt, giving you a clear view of his broad, imposing back. He never looked at you anymore unless to sneak in a quick glance and even then, it’d make his cock twitch in desperation, the head weeping, begging to be touched.
He was fucking feral, like a Neanderthal, primitive and obsessed.
You smelled rich, mildly tangy—not like the fruity perfumes some of the spider ladies wore around him. No, it was something else entirely, something earthy, like what he imagined was between your delicate legs. Like wet cunt ready to be taken. 
And God, did he want to take it.
"Miguel." 
He tensed up at the sound of your voice, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. Maybe the cafeteria at HQ wasn’t the best hiding spot.
It was the middle of the month—July fifteenth to be exact—which meant you had that smell again.
You were ovulating.
He knew enough about female anatomy to put the pieces together when he realized that about two weeks after his body reacted to your scent, you'd be in a terrible mood.
"What crawled up your ass?" He'd asked you once, keeping his eyes on all his monitors but immediately noting your discomfort. You sat on a chair beside him, head in your arms as you leaned on the desk.
He could feel you glaring daggers at his profile.
"Shut up. I'm on my period, asshole."
He did shut up after that.
Blood immediately began to rush toward his cock, bringing it to life.
You stood in front of him, one hand on your hip while the other held a plastic container from the empanada joint everyone had a taste for. 
"What?" Miguel uttered, keeping his eyes trained on a particular stain on the otherwise pristine white table. Any distraction was a welcomed distraction.
You pulled back the chair opposite of his, plopping down on it unceremoniously. The action sent waves of your aroma toward him like a crashing wave, engulfing him completely. He stiffened, dropping his head slightly while the heel of his hand pressed over his growing bulge. 
"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" 
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said through gritted teeth, fangs visible when he grimaced. His scarlet eyes wandered over your face for a few seconds before he ripped them away, barely avoiding the twitch in your brow and the growing frown on your lips.
“Seriously?” You scoffed, “You’ve been avoiding me for, what, two months? I’m surprised I got a hold of you. You’re never in the cafeteria.” You ripped open the container, digging inside to grab the fried little snack. “Do we have a problem I’m not aware of?”
Miguel watched you take a bite of the empanada, committed to memory the way your tongue lapped at the grease coating your lips. His hand pressed harder over his cock, and at that moment he cursed himself for implementing the suit-only rule. He could really use a pair of sweatpants right now.
“Well? Do we?” You challenged him, defiant as always. You had this look in your eye that he’s seen before—your adrenaline was about to kick into overdrive. Always ready for a fight.
He sighed, shaking his head, willing himself to breathe. He felt sweat begin to bead across his hairline, strands of his hair sticking down the sides of his face. Your scent was becoming unbearable, overwhelming him to the point where he felt lightheaded. He licked his dry lips, carelessly running the tip of his tongue over his sharp canines only to pierce through the delicate muscle. The salty taste of iron exploded in his mouth and he grunted, pinching his eyes shut in frustration. 
"Mig."
“No!” He finally barked, slamming a fist over the table. It shook from the weight of his large hand, the empty container almost flying off the surface. You went wide-eyed for a moment at his outburst before pressing the last bite of your snack between your lips, unfazed.
“It clearly doesn’t seem that way,” you replied calmly, but the twitch in your brow remained and your eyes narrowed. You wiped your mouth and fingers with a brown recyclable napkin meticulously, “if you have a problem, say so.”
One thing you had in common with Miguel was your bluntness. You always cut to the chase, saying what you needed to without much thought. It was one of the things that he appreciated in a fellow spider person but right now it only served to irritate him. That last thing he wanted was to deal with someone as fucking stubborn as him.
He must've looked like hell because when you regarded him, the hardness in your eyes softened immensely as if only just realizing his disheveled appearance. You went to touch his hand over the table but he snatched it away before you could, glaring. 
"You don't look so good,” you reasoned quietly, stung by his actions, “d’you need some help?”
"M'fine."
"I don't think—"
"Listen to me very carefully," Miguel hissed, nose flaring and skin burning hot, "I need you to get away from me." 
"What—"
"I'm not gonna tell you again," he seethed, cock struggling to break free from the constraints of his suit, "Go. Leave."
You were stunned into silence, tapping your fingers over the table awkwardly before grabbing your mess and leaving without another word.
Miguel watched you leave with a groan, dropping his head back in aggravation.
He was so fucked.
You hadn't shown up to HQ in a while. He couldn't blame you. 
While that should've been a win for Miguel, it wasn't. Sure, the violent attacks on his body had diminished somewhat, but now, just because you weren’t around as much didn’t mean you didn’t leave his thoughts for a second.
He could've called you—had that stupid watch to contact you—see if you were okay. But his pride assaulted him every time he so much as glanced at his watch. 
His thoughts circulated and continued, imagining you in all the positions he wanted to put you in, which landed him back in the restroom for a daily cock tug when he should’ve been working.
The spiderverse needed to be controlled and admittingly, you were one of the best on his team. You were stealthy and intelligent—he needed you more than he'd cared to admit.
And...he missed you.
But you were off fighting crime and restoring the peace in your universe—at least that was the excuse you'd given him, only showing face when it was absolutely necessary.
Which, as of late, wasn’t very necessary.
And still, he suffered.
...
Earth- 0708. 
A shit show of a universe where the height of winter was in the middle of fucking August. It was snowing, small tufts of flurries lightly coating the ground in white.
Miguel knew exactly where to find you. Sunnyside, Lowery Street off the seven train. On the corner of a bodega by the broken lamp post. He could walk to your apartment complex blind if he really wanted to.
And there it was. He could smell you upon arriving—through the concrete and rusty red brick, up the five floors to your window—he could smell you. His hands shook (not from the cold) as his claws gripped the aging wall, his cock doing its usual swelling.
You must have sensed him immediately, slamming your bedroom window open and peering out into the darkness before he could even make it to your window. The cold wind blew and carried your scent. Mierda. 
“Miguel?” You called out, squinting down at him as he scaled the dusty brick wall. When he finally came face to face with you, he lowered his mask, revealing his flushed face and sweat-slicked hair. He could see his breath come out in short, little puffs.
“You couldn’t use the front door like a normal person?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms.
“When were we ever normal people?” It was meant to come out smooth as butter but Miguel’s voice was hoarse, throat seemingly drier than the Sahara. He cleared it, stepping through the window, turning around to quickly slam it shut. He was concentrating, forcing himself to take a deep breath before turning around to face you, except, you were already gone, disappearing deeper into your apartment.
He grunted, rubbing his eyes. He thought he’d gotten better at controlling himself. The gentle breathing helped, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling to keep his cock under control. It twitched a few times, and he groaned, exiting your bedroom. It was now or never.
You were in your tiny kitchen, stirring a cup of tea while the TV in the living room softly played some sitcom he remembered you were into. You were in a black hoodie and gray sweats, your hair messily thrown up in a ponytail. He’d seen you this way more than he could count. When did you become so pretty? Miguel didn’t understand it. You were under his nose this whole time, and he never really looked at you. Well, that was wrong. He did, of course, he did, but he never indulged. He was too much of a workaholic for that.
“What do you want?” You asked, monotoned, “I took care of all the bad guys so I know you're not here for that.” You propped your elbows on your kitchen counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you peered up at him. You’d always told him he looked massive in your apartment as if his shoulders would cave the entire place in, and now, with you looking at him like that—all doe eyes and confusion—just a tiny thing, well…his cock twitched.
He swallowed thickly, jaw tense as he looked away from you to collect himself.
“I gotta ask you somethin'.” The words rushed out of his mouth, the flashing images on the TV seemingly more interesting to him than anything else.
“Shoot.” 
“It’s… gonna sound weird, bare with me.”
“O…kay.” 
Miguel turned away from you as he always did, hoping to curb his sweltering need to take you against your wall like a beast. “Are you ovulating?” It was quiet for a beat, and his heart flew into his throat in pure mortification.
“What?” 
“You heard me, I’m not repeating it again.” 
“Miguel, what the fuck—” 
“Just—answer the Goddamn question, por favor.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, bowing his head in frustration. He felt hot, his body burning as if molten lava flowed through his veins. His tone must have done something because when he looked over his shoulder you were on your phone tapping a few buttons.
“...Yes,” you finally answered, bringing your gaze to meet his half-lidded eyes, “according to my app.” 
“Mierda,” He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, “fuck. Okay.” 
“You gonna tell me what’s going on, Miguel?”
“And you ovulate mid-month? Between the twelfth and sixteenth? No don’t—don’t look at me like that, please,” Miguel choked as he began to pace back and forth, ignoring the incredulous look on your face that was both humiliating and overwhelmingly arousing at the same time, “Just—just answer.” Another beat of silence engulfed you both as you searched the information through your period tracker with a shaky hand.
“Uhh, yeah, t-that’s right.” You placed your phone down on the counter, your tea now cold and long forgotten. “Mig…what’s with the questions? How d’you even know that?”
He finally paused his steps to run a hand through his hair before facing you from a safe distance, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing erection burning hot between his legs from the angle he was in. If you noticed the large space between you both, you didn’t mention it.
“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you snorted at the comment, and again, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I haven’t been ignoring you by choice, me entiendes?” 
“So what is it then?” You took a couple of steps closer while he took a couple of steps back.
“It’s your scent—you smell so fucking good and it's driving fucking crazy, muñeca.” 
“I-I don’t understand, Mig, what—”
“Look, I don’t understand it either,” he ran a hand through his locks again and again as if ready to rip the strands off, “all I know is you have a…scent when you ovulate every month…and, well…” he dropped both arms to his sides, standing there like an idiot as you stepped closer to drink him in. Your eyes traced him over, his broad shoulders and muscled arms, his thick thighs, and his engorged co—
“M-Miguel?” Your gaze was pinned to his bulge, pushing against the confines of his suit. “Why didn't you tell me anything?”
The question made him burn—made him bare his fangs and curl his hands into tight fists.
"What did you expect?” He spat, pacing again, “How was I gonna tell you some shit like this?" He licked his lips, his body feeling feverish. If he didn't leave soon he was sure to do something he'd regret.
“Miguel, come here.” He ignored you, much too irritated and embarrassed to do anything but just stand there. His jaw clicked, the bone shifting under the skin as he grinded his teeth in frustration. He could hear your footsteps padding softly behind him until you stood in front of him, craning your neck just to make eye contact.
It was unbearable being in your presence. He was going lightheaded again, the arousal almost blinding.
“Mig? D-did you need some help?” You whispered, your fingers ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, ready to trail lower but his large hand gripped you by the wrist, halting your movements.
“No.” He choked, “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to. Just came to tell you.”
“What if I want to?” You continued, lifting your free hand to press your warm palm over his heaving chest, “What if I told you I’ve wanted to do this for a long time?” 
Miguel hissed as soon as you cupped his erection, gently rubbing your palm up and down the smooth surface of his bulge, hidden behind the silky fabric of his suit.
“Poor Miguel—all this suffering, all this grief, when all you needed was for me to relieve you,” you tutted, feeling how incredibly hard he was, “so I have a scent, huh?” Miguel groaned, his head lolling to the side as he watched your careful movements. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was more than he could have asked for in the last few months. His hand was nothing compared to yours. “What do I smell like then?”
“Like wet pussy,” he swallowed thickly, hands fighting the urge to grip you by the waist, “smells amazing, muñeca.” He hissed again when you gripped him firmly.
“Yeah?” You smiled, your eyes just as hooded as his, “And what do you want to do to me?” 
A growl rumbled in his chest. Without saying another word, he pushed you back against the closest wall, caging you in his large arms.
“You have no idea the things I want to do to you.” He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. Your eyes fluttered, lips parting to take the tiniest breaths, chest heaving in arousal. 
“Show me.” You breathed before Miguel kissed you. He curled around you, sealing you away from everything that wasn’t him. Your scent had his head buzzing, had him licking wildly into your mouth, his fangs grazing your skin more times than you could count. 
He pawed at your hoodie, his claws sinking into the black fibers of the fabric. “Do you care about this?” He said between kisses, skimming the delicate skin underneath.
“It was an ex-boyfriend’s.” You yelped when Miguel tore into the hoodie immediately, ripping apart the seams with ease. You weren't wearing a t-shirt underneath, leaving you bare above the waist.
“Not important then.” He muttered, tossing the thick shreds of fabric aside in favor of touching your bare skin. He noted your eyes, how blown your pupils were at his actions. You were cold, nipples pebbling and goosebumps forming over your arms. Miguel cooed, his thumbs reaching out to rub the sensitive nubs on your chest, tugging them between his fingers. Your head fell back against the wall, a mewl escaping you. 
“Miguel,” you moaned, arching your body into his skillful hands. He brought you flushed against him, pressing his face into your neck and licking a stripe up to your ear.
“¿Qué pasó, hermosa? I barely touched you,” Miguel chuckled, lifting you up in his arms with ease and walking to your bedroom. He threw you on your bed, and within seconds, your sweats were pulled down with your panties, hastily tossed to the side. 
He observed you like a beast on the hunt, eyes trained on your glistening cunt. There it was, the source of his misfortunes for all those months, weeping and swollen with arousal, just waiting to be fucked. His mouth watered, watching you slowly swirl your fingers between your folds, coating two digits with your slick before presenting them to him.
“Wanna taste?”
He saw how your juices clung to your fingers like glossy webs when you wiggled them toward him. He kneeled in front of you, gripping your wrist in his hand and lapping at your essence, plunging your fingers into his mouth. He moaned in relief as if tasting you was the cure to every issue he'd encountered.
You gasped, mouth slightly ajar as you watched him. It was so obscene how this man took pleasure from your taste alone, coating your fingers entirely in his spit. You whined, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to flutter, desperate to be filled.
“Miguel,” you whined, “get rid of the suit.” He chuckled over your fingers, letting you feel the tip of his fang over the soft pads before releasing them with a gentle pop. He stood to his full height, dwarfing you, glowing in that suit of his. Slowly, the tech that held his suit together scurried down the length of his body like falling stars until he was completely nude. His cock sprung forward, finally released from its prison, standing large and proud.
“Oh my god,” Miguel heard you mutter, saw how your eyes were trained on the angry red tip, shining with precome. His chest puffed with pride. You licked your lips, mind already set on the task you'd given yourself. You moaned, desperate for a taste of him.
He didn't give you much time to react, surging forward to place a hand around your delicate throat, putting the slightest bit of pressure before pushing you down flat. 
"Next time. I need to taste you." His eyes were glowing, burning red in the dim lighting of your bedroom. He knelt again, grabbing your hips firmly and pulling you roughly toward the edge of the bed before devouring your cunt like a starved man.
"Shit," you cried, hands immediately tugging on his hair as you threw your head back, "M-Miguel." He was insatiable, tongue swirling around your clit several times before lapping at your soaked folds, moaning at the tangy taste. 
"Que rico," he muttered to himself, the vibrations of his voice over your cunt causing you to cry out. He continued his assault, dipping his tongue into your hole, a testament of what was to come. Then, without warning, he plunged his middle finger inside, immediately hitting something that made you see stars. You choked and heaved, pulling at his hair as he fucked you with his thick finger while sucking on your clit.
"Fuuuck, Miguel, I-I think I'm—" you threw your head back, eyes rolling as you came, gushing all over Miguel's mouth and hand. You trembled, almost sobbing when he hadn't let up, feasting on your juices as his finger continued to thrust into you.
"M-Miguel, I can't," you whined, your hands fighting to lift his head away from your aching cunt, but he ignored you, too drunk on your taste to stop. He carefully added a second finger, easily finding a rhythm to thrust into you. The stretch had you gasping for air, thighs trembling on either side of his head. If two fingers were too much for you then his cock would surely be a challenge.
Miguel's eyes were closed, tongue hungrily lapping at the wetness you produced, and within seconds had you falling apart with a wicked moan. Your cunt squeezed his two fingers when you came again, coating his hand and chin with your slick. You sobbed, begging him to stop, and he did, placing a wet kiss on each of your inner thighs before carefully pulling his fingers out.
"Look at me, hermosa." You hiccupped, craning your neck to look at Miguel with blurry eyes. He already had his red gaze pinned on you, and when he had your attention he placed his cum coated fingers into his mouth, humming in approval at the taste.
You were mesmerized, not even fucked by his cock yet but somehow already drunk on the anticipation. You whimpered, watching him lap up the last of your juices on his fingers.
"M-miguel?"
"You taste so fucking good," he growled with a shake of his head, pushing his face into your pulsating cunt one more time to breathe in your intoxicating scent. His hot breath over your pussy made your toes curl, sighing in contentment when he placed a quick kiss on your swollen clit.
Miguel climbed on the bed, caging your hips with his muscular thighs. His cock slid against your folds, your slick already lubricating him. You were still shaking, your hands now finding purchase on his biceps.
"¿Estás bien, amor?" He asked, leaning down to pepper kisses over your tear stained face. He was getting sappy, he knew. He couldn't help it, not with the way you came so pretty for him.
"Mhm," you sighed, letting him arrange your trembling legs over his hips, his cock pressing more firmly into your aching wet core. 
"Good." He spit on his hand and ran it over his stiff shaft a few times before pushing your thighs up so that your knees touched your shoulders, effectively folding you in half. He lined up the head, ready to push in, but stopped when he heard you whimper.
"It's been a while, Miguel," you explained with wet eyes, "I haven't...in a while a-and you're so big—"
"It's okay, I know you can take me, hm?" Miguel brushed a few damp strands away from your sweaty face. He leaned down to kiss you, and he knew you could taste yourself on his lips. It made his cock twitch over you, and with no further delay he notched the head of his cock into your hole, slowly pushing in.
You moaned, eyebrows knitting at the stretch of him. He panted, pushing inch by devastating inch, all the while watching your face for any signs. You were falling apart, eyes screwed shut and nails digging into the meat of his arms.
"I can't," you choked, your hips fighting against the offending pain, but Miguel was quick in securing you in place, continuing to spear you with his cock, "M-Miguel, y-your too big, it's too much!"
"Shhh, hermosa, si puedes," Miguel closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered over him, fighting to take him in, "look how good you're doing for me, mm, así mismo." 
He pushed deeper, swallowing your cries with a kiss as he bottomed out, his balls pressing nicely against your ass. 
"¿Ves? " He cooed, bumping his nose against yours as you whimpered, "I told you, you could do it." He chuckled at your glare, kissing you again before thrusting experimentally into you.
You moaned, tossing your head back, exposing your throat. You felt full to the brim, completely stuffed. Miguel wasted no time surging forward to lick and nip at your neck as he moved above. Each thrust shook your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Miguel fucked you deeper. Your pussy was drenched, soaking his cock as he glided in and out of you effortlessly. The stretch burned but it was delicious, and Miguel knew you were cock drunk when your mouth fell open, tears running down your cheeks.
"¿Así te gusta, hermosa?" Miguel moaned, his breath fanning over your skin as he pounded deeply into you. His cock reached something within you that had a sob ripping from your throat.
"Oh my God," you whined, feeling the constant slap, slap, slap of his balls against your ass, "Fuuuck."
"That's the spot?" He heaved, his fangs glistening with saliva, "That's where you want it?" He continued his relentless pace, hitting that spot with precision over and over again. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him feral, slamming into you until you screamed, watching you fall apart before his eyes.
You came hard, gushing all over his cock, vision blurry and head in the clouds. Miguel helped you ride your high until you were nothing more than a quivering mess below him, sobbing as he continued to thrust before emptying his load inside you.
He grunted, head tossed back as he pressed his hips tightly against you, filling you up with everything he had. 
"Fuck," he groaned, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe before slowly fucking his cum into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below. "Even better than I imagined." He muttered, shifting to pepper kisses all over your face again. You sighed in content, feeling comfortable in the way his cock was still nestled in you.
"¿Estás bien, muñeca?" Miguel asked, dropping his forehead against yours. He still had you folded in half, his large arms on either side of you. You nodded with a sigh, turning your head to place a chaste kiss on the inside of his wrist.
"Good," he grinned, gently snapping his hips against your ass, letting more of his spend leak from your hole, "cuz I'm not done with you yet."
27K notes · View notes
littlexdeaths · 18 days
Text
i get off - e.m.
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perv eddie munson x perv fem reader
you don’t know that i know, you watch me every night…
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), eddie is lil peeping tom but reader loves it, they both steal each other’s shit, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum eating, choking, spanking, dirty talk, mean!dom eddie, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, squirting, they both are nasty freaks
a/n: this is another edit and repost from my old account. it’s one of my favorite fics so i had to move it over here. enjoy freaks xx. 😘
based on i get off by halestorm
word count: 3.8k
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you’re sprawled out on your bed, fingers running through your drenched folds. clad in only an oversized iron maiden t-shirt and a pair of knee high socks, you’re everything he’s ever wanted. plucked directly out of one of his dirtiest fantasies.
you can feel his eyes on you, you always do.
not that he realizes that.
and while you’ve lived barely ten feet apart for your entire lives, eddie has never had the courage to make a move.
so he settles for this— watching you through his bedroom window.
fantasizing that the delicate fingers now dipping inside you were his. and the fist currently wrapped around his thick cock was smaller, softer. yours.
the first time he witnessed you like this it was a complete accident.
you had been pent up all day, and didn’t think to shut your bedroom curtains before slipping your hand inside your panties. the bedside lamp bathing your room in a muted yellow hue. eddie had been working on a new song, guitar perched on his lap.
he was frustrated with trying to string together this new melody, glancing up in utter annoyance. that is until his gaze drifted towards the window, his eyes widened and his cock stirred in his jeans.
you looked beautiful, you always did. however this was the most vulnerable state you could be in, and the fact that he got to witness it— made you all the more enchanting to him.
he’d be embarrassed to admit that watching you touch yourself made him cum in his jeans, completely untouched. and that first time you were none the wiser, not noticing the dark eyes that were trailing your figure. but once eddie had gotten a taste he couldn’t get enough.
eagerly waiting by his bedroom window to enjoy his new favorite nightly program… you.
you weren’t sure exactly how long he’d been doing it for, but the night you caught him in the act, it awoke something within you. while eddie made sure to keep his bedroom light off, the moonlight was not on his side that night.
it had filled his room in a soft white glow, highlighting his pale skin. his naked form perched on the edge of his unmade bed, stroking his shaft in tandem with each thrust of your fingers.
his moans are what gave him away, as your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure. but he’d gotten a little too carried away, thinking about how pretty your pussy would look stuffed full with his cock.
the thin walls of the trailer doing nothing to conceal his sounds. when your eyes finally opened, you were met with the most glorious sight you’ve ever seen.
eddie fucking himself into his fist, his head tilted back as he spilled all over his ringed fingers. the image alone had your eyes rolling back, body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. one of the most intense you’ve ever had, and from that night on you always kept your curtains open.
desperately chasing that euphoric feeling again.
while you didn’t always see him, you knew he was there. the feeling of his greedy eyes on you was enough to have you cumming harder than you ever have in your entire life. your whimpers were muffled but still rang through his ears as he’d make a mess all over his hand and chest.
different images of you— on your knees, on top of him, taking you from behind, or his favorite with his head buried between your thighs.
it was slowly driving him crazy, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of you. he needed more. he quickly found himself staring out his window any chance he could. gazing longingly as you floated around your bedroom.
he watched you change, get ready for the day, study with your college textbooks. your pencil resting in between your teeth. eddie knew it was wrong, that if you ever found out you would be revolted.
if he only knew it was the exact opposite, and how you couldn’t finish without feeling his eyes on you. but you also needed more, desperate to feel his weight on top of you. his mouth trailing over your skin, his cock stretching you out perfectly.
so you became bolder, going as far as to leave your bedroom window open. letting your moans drift through the night air, teasing him further.
and when you noticed some of your panties had gone missing it only heightened your desire for him. knowing he was in your room, touching your things… holding your panties up to his nose as he came all over himself.
grunts of your name escaped his pouted lips, and his left yours as you drenched your fingers. but it wasn’t enough.
you needed him.
fueled by your insatiable lust you found yourself gazing at him more and more. as he sat on his messy floor, playing guitar or working on a dnd campaign. focusing intently on his fingers, and imagining just how good they would feel inside you.
but your favorite was when he was fresh out of the shower. his dark curls were drenched, water dripping down his inked chest. the patch of hair that disappeared beneath his towel drove you absolutely mad.
so you took a play out of his own book, sneaking into his room while he was working at benny’s. or coming home late from a gig at the hideout, surrounding yourself in everything that was so distinctly eddie.
eddie honestly wasn’t concerned when a few of his shirts had gone missing. or a pair of his cum stained boxers, a guitar pick… as he lost things all the time. he simply chalked it up to his forgetful nature, either he misplaced them or lent them to someone.
that is until tonight, as he peered through your window for what felt like the millionth time. his heart was in his throat as he instantly recognized the iron maiden shirt adorning your frame as his.
the realization dawns on him that you knew exactly what he’d been doing this whole time… and instead of being disgusted or upset, you liked it. enough so that you began doing the same thing to him.
that epiphany made any reservations or fears he still had fade into nothingness. the male decided that he couldn’t sit back and only watch you anymore.
he had to have you.
the brunette rose to his feet, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his long legs before slipping out of his bedroom window. quickly dropping onto the ground as he walks the short distance to your adjoined trailer.
his large hands grip the bottom of the window sill, pushing it open the rest of the way before he’s hoisting himself through it. a small gasp leaves you as he tumbles inside and onto your bedroom floor.
eddie is quick to get back on his feet, as you eagerly eye the obvious tent in his gray sweats. licking his plump lips as he sizes you up. he stalks forward like a predator, slowly crawling onto your bed and between your spread legs.
the male grabs your wrist, coaxing your fingers out of your drenched cunt. raising them up to his mouth, slipping them between his lips with a deep groan. “such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”
for once you’re speechless, his actions jumbling your already fuzzy thoughts. you never imagined he’d actually come through your window, like you’d been dreaming about for weeks.
“speak for yourself munson…” your confidence suddenly comes rushing back, pushing your fingers deeper into his mouth. feeling your wetness pooling onto the bed sheets as he swirls his tongue around them.
“guess we’re both a little dirty, huh baby?” eddie chuckles as he removes your fingers from his mouth, now leaning over you.
letting yourself fall back against the pillow, his face mere inches from yours. this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to him, now noticing the light freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose. the dimple that indents his cheek as he smirks down at you, little things that you found utterly endearing.
his hands begin drifting down your sides, his smirk only widening as you shudder beneath him. “is that what does it for ya? you like being watched sweetness?” he grips the fabric of his shirt, starting to push it up your torso.
you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. “i get off on you…” you slowly trail your lips up his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto his pale skin. the male letting out a husky moan as you nip at his ear, “getting off on me.”
eddie curses under his breath before he’s pinning you down against the mattress, his lips crashing against yours. your fingers tangle in his wild curls, kissing him back just as forcefully. all the pent up sexual tension and desire now spilling from both of you, as his hips rut into yours. feeling his hard length pressing onto your thigh, moaning into his mouth.
your impatience seems to get the better of you as you grip onto one of his wrists, guiding his large hand in between your thighs. a not so subtle way of telling him exactly what you wanted, the male nipping at your lower lip before he’s leaning back onto his knees.
spreading your thighs even wider, as his dark eyes zero in on the mess between them. his fingers dip between your folds, gathering your sticky nectar on the digits. swirling them around your swollen clit before moving lower.
the metalhead teases you as he circles the tip of his middle finger on your entrance. barely pushing it inside you before removing it, a wet squelch filling the room. “oh listen to her purr for me baby… you want my fingers inside you?”
you nod frantically, lifting your hips up in an effort to get him closer to where you needed him. but he pulls them away immediately, causing you to whine from the loss. eddie grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together as he meets your hooded gaze. “i asked you a question, sweet cheeks.”
he watches as your eyes glaze over more, the dominance he was exuding turning your brain to mush. “and i expect an answer, or is that pretty little head of yours too fucked out for me?” his tone is condescending, borderline rude but it only seems to fuel the fire in between your legs.
you let out a soft whimper, the male letting go of your cheeks to trail his sticky fingers down your jaw.
“need your fingers eddie…” the male chuckles, wrapping his hand around your neck. hovering his face over yours, his thumb stroking the column of your throat.
“need them where, hm?”
you’re quickly becoming impatient, and he can tell from how your lips jut out into a pout. thighs closing in around his own, in an attempt to feel some kind of friction.
“come on now… don’t ya wanna be a good girl for me?” he can see the effect those words have on you, your pupils dilating and your breath hitching in your throat.
“put them inside me.”
while your tone is meant to be demanding, it comes out as more of a plea than anything else. your heart is racing in anticipation as his fingers trail down your stomach. cupping your cunt in the palm of his hand, “and what do good girls say?”
you now realize your mistake, the male raising a brow as he awaits your answer. “please touch me.” eddie is quick to reward you, plunging two fingers into your awaiting heat.
“see? now you’re learning,” another string of curses leaves his mouth as your walls tighten around his fingers and a high pitched moan falls from yours.
“shit sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight.” he curls the digits up, watching in awe as your back arches off the mattress.
“fuck i need to taste you,” he mumbles more to himself as he lays between your thighs. his tongue darting out, encircling your clit with an urgency you’ve never experienced with anyone else before.
the noises you’re making are music to his ears, and while he’s heard them before— you’ve never sounded quite so needy. pride blossoms in his chest knowing it was because of him, you needed him. he was making you feel this good.
your thighs begin to tremble as he increases the pressure of his tongue, pumping his fingers faster.
“m-more need more.” while eddie wanted to reprimand you for not using your manners, he’s been waiting to have you like this for far too long.
but he’d make sure you didn’t forget next time… if there was a next time. he hoped there would be.
he slips a third finger inside you, the long, thick digits reaching places you never realized existed until now.
and now that you knew what they felt like, your own would never suffice again.
“aww pretty thing, you gonna cum?” he chuckles mockingly as the sound vibrates against your core.
the feeling only aiding in bringing your release that much closer, as your eyes flutter shut. a harsh slap on your thigh has them flying back open, your eyes meeting his as he looks up at you from his position between them.
“eyes on me,” his tone is stern, commanding as his tongue returns to assaulting your swollen bud.
as you start to grind your hips up against his mouth, it pushes his fingers even deeper inside you. hitting that sweet spot that has you crying out a broken, “oh god, please.”
eddie hums against you, increasing the speed of his fingers. “i prefer master… but god has a nice ring to it.” if you weren’t on the brink of an orgasm you might have found that funny, not registering his soft laughter as he sucks harshly on your clit.
the sensation is what finally sends you over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his head and trapping him there.
not that he would ever dare complain.
once you settle back into the mattress is when he pulls away, crawling back up your body towards you. your excitement covers his chin in a light sheen, now tasting yourself as he kisses you with a bruising force.
you reach for the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his legs. feeling his cock rubbing against the bare skin of your thigh, and you want nothing more than to feel it hard and heavy on your tongue.
“wanna taste you too eds,” you whine as he trails his lips across your jaw, sucking onto your skin. as much as he would love to have you gagging on his cock, his impatience had reached its peak.
“next time sweetness… need to be inside you.”
you clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. the promise of a next time making your heart flutter beneath your ribs.
eddie unwillingly untangles himself from you, now standing at the edge of the bed to remove his sweats. his cock stands at full attention as you sit up, eagerly crawling towards him. your mouth waters at the sight, finally able to admire him how you’ve been dying to for the last few weeks.
you wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft, glancing up at him as you lick up the pre-cum that was smeared across his pink tip. the male grips a fistful of your hair in his hand, tugging you off his dick as a small whimper leaves you.
“hands and knees— now.” he nearly growls at you, releasing you as you continue to look up at him in a daze.
“don’t make me repeat myself baby.”
and as much as you would love to test how far you could push his buttons, that would be saved for a later date. so you do as you’re told, crawling away from him now on your hands and knees.
feeling his eyes trailing over the plush skin of your ass, “take a picture munson, it’ll last longer.”
what you don’t expect is to hear the snap of your polaroid camera, whipping your head around to see the shit eating grin he was sporting. setting the camera and picture down on your dresser once more, “just following orders sweet cheeks.” he chuckles, crawling onto the bed behind you.
eddie lands a firm smack on your ass, his chest now draped across your back. his hot breath fanning over your neck as he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “face the mirror, you aren’t gonna wanna miss this baby.”
your thighs clench together, now turning to face the full length mirror that stood across from your bed.
you glance at yourself briefly before your eyes trail upwards, now meeting his in the reflection. a cocky grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, his hands now roaming the full expanse of your ass.
feeling the tip of his cock brush against your core, pushing your hips back so you could feel more. eddie’s calloused hands grip you tightly, stopping any further movement on your part.
“don’t be fucking greedy, you’ll take what i give you.”
you squeak out a small apology, keeping your eyes focused on him as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. gasping once he slowly pushed himself into your awaiting heat, a strangled moan tumbling from his lips.
his eyes squeeze shut as he bottoms out, his balls flush against the curve of your ass. you feel incredibly full, the stretch so divine it makes your head spin.
“eddie please.” you mewl, watching as his brown eyes meet yours.
desperate for him to do something— anything.
eddie’s rings dig into your hips, his eyes glancing down to watch as he slides his cock back out. groaning as you’ve already coated his length in your arousal, a sight he’d only ever seen in his dreams.
“gonna give you everything,” he grunts before slamming himself back inside, knocking the air out of your lungs as you fall forward onto the mattress.
you grip the edge of it for support as he continues to rock his hips into yours, this new angle allowing him to rub against your sweet spot perfectly. keeping your eyes locked on the mirror, the image of him behind you— thrusting into you will be seared in your memory forever.
the black ink swirling on his skin, the light sheen of sweat on his chest. the veins in his forearms that are much more noticeable as he grips you tighter. he looks more like a greek god than anyone had a right to.
your jaw is slack, mouth hanging open as you continue to watch him. the little ‘uh uh uhs’ that leave your lips mix with the sound of your skin slapping together. now filling the quiet space of your bedroom.
“taking me so well— this pussy was made for me.”
eddie moans, completely distracted by the way your pussy flutters around him. the creamy ring that’s formed around the base of his cock expanding with each thrust of his hips.
“look at me,” you whine, that signature smirk returning to his features as he meets your eyes in the mirror once more.
“aww poor little baby,” he coos, slipping his hand between your thighs and landing a harsh slap on your already sensitive bud. “always need my eyes on you… don’t you?”
a string of curses slips past your lips as you nod your head. “need it,” you whimper as his calloused fingertips circle over your clit. “need you.”
your words seem to have quite the effect on him, a low growl leaving him as he fucks into you even harder.
“what do you need me to do, pretty girl? tell me.” it takes you a minute before you can answer him, the male having fucked any coherent thoughts from your head.
“n-need it inside.” is the best you can manage, but eddie understands all too well.
it’s what he had hoped you would say, “yeah, you want me to fuck you so full? ruin this pretty little pussy for anyone else?” your eyes roll back in your head, as the male wraps his other hand around your throat.
he handles you like a rag doll as he pulls you up, your back now flush against his sweaty chest. the action forces his cock even deeper inside you, brushing against your cervix. his hand that was wrapped around your throat is now cradling your jaw, guiding your gaze back to the mirror.
your half lidded eyes watch as he leans forward, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, “this pussy is mine now, got that sweetness?”
it’s suddenly all too much, the rubber band in your middle finally snaps as your body trembles in his embrace. cries of his name and ‘yours yours yours’ tumbling from your mouth.
the brunette watches in amazement as you drench his thighs, your bed sheets— the pressure almost forcing him out completely.
the metalhead curses as he continues to bounce you on his cock, the wet squelching of your pussy finally sending him over the edge. grunting as he pumps you full of his cum, your body falling limp against his chest.
you’re both panting as you come down from your highs. his touch on your hips is much more gentle than before as he coaxes you onto your back.
you hum contently, eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion hits you. eddie cradles your face in his palms, pressing soft kisses to each of your eyelids before his touch suddenly disappears.
your eyes fly open in alarm, reaching out for him as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “don’t worry… you aren’t rid of me just yet.”
eddie chuckles as he spreads your thighs apart, his dark eyes watching intently as his cum drips out of you. pooling onto the bed beneath you, making an even bigger mess of your sheets.
his head dips lower, inhaling as he gathers the mixture of both your arousal onto his awaiting tongue. moaning before diving in deeper, “shit, we taste good together.”
“too much,” you whimper, wiggling your hips away from his eager mouth due to the oversensitivity.
eddie presses a kiss to each of your thighs before he joins you once more, collapsing next to you with a boyish grin on his face. you reach out to trace the stubble along his jaw, your fingertips brushing over his plump lips.
you feel him release a shaky breath against your fingertips, the look he’s giving you makes your stomach do a little flip.
“so… is it too late to ask you out on a date?”
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months
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hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼
Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??
First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣
Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…
Part 2
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You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.
‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.
He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.
For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.
‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’
‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.
‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.
‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’
He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.
‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.
‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.
Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’
Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.
‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.
As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.
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y13evie · 6 months
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I crawled out of a coma for this
You know thats future man clip of Josh hutcherson jerking off? Imagine that with Mike and reader walks in ANNNDDD he’s all subby maybe even gets edged 😋😋
jae i love u so much i missed you
tags: fuck this is driving me crazy, absolutely pure filth. there is nothing sfw about this. afab!reader. dacryphilia maybe + the tiniest blood
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mike had the house to himself. his whines and empty pleas rang throughout the home. he wasn’t usually this needy, but god he hadn’t seen you in so long and his cock was just so achy and leaky in his jeans. he couldn’t take it. he tried to at least go slowly. pumping his cock at a reasonable pace, swiping his thumb over his slit at the tip of his cock for an extra wave of pleasure. he tried so hard to be patient, imaging your voice telling him to not be so needy. but he couldn’t help himself and began wildly grinding his hips into his hand, imagining it was you.
what the brunette failed to realize is that you had walked into his home a few minutes ago. you heard his cries and whines, each of them going straight to your core. after another agonizing minute you decided to make your presence be known. you walk up to his door and slowly open it to realize the heavenly sight.
“mike?”. your eyes hold a false innocence, knowing full well you had savored his pleas up until this moment. his teary eyes batted up at you. his eyelashes barely hiding his doe eyes. mikes chest was heaving and his head was leaned up against the wall. his thick cock was drooling beads of pre coating his hand and length. his tip was bright pink, begging for attention.
“i need you so, so bad.” those six words were all you needed. your lips make quick contact with his, the kiss was sloppy. he lips swollen from his teeth digging into them combined with his never ending whines. your tongue smoothly found his way into his mouth, he didn’t even begin to try and fight for dominance. he was putty under your touch right now. before pulling away your tongue glided over his bottom lip, tasting the metallic remnants of blood from his biting. he whined. you held the palm of your hand out and mike immediately knew what to do. he spat in your hand and guided your wrist to his neglected cock.
you started of slow knowing that he was sensitive and not wanting to overstimulate him, yet. you began to quicken your pace after noticing mike had become accustomed to your slower one. his big round eyes batted up at you once more, this time tears spilt from them. he watched you stroke him with his mouth slightly open, eyes never leaving you. you opened your mouth to let some drool fall onto his already drenched cock. this sent him over the edge. he held your hand in place and began fucking up into your hand. you let him, knowing you weren’t gonna let him get away with it so easily. his cries got louder and he pulled you towards him, lips animalisticly taking your own. you knew he was close. so just when you believed he was gonna cum, you snatch your hand away. he lips left yours, only leaving a string so saliva connecting you two.
“baby please.” tears began to fall again. “you can’t do this to me, not right now. needa cum so bad, please.”. his eyes were pleading you.
“m’ sorry baby, you gotta beg. you know better than to fuck yourself using me without asking first.” your hand cupped his face, wiping away his tears. you know how pent up he was, the way is cock was leaking so badly, and the way you could see it throbbing against his happy trail.
“pleasepleaseplease let me cum. i won’t do it again- ngh, promise baby. just please- let me feel you.” he sniffled back his tears while begging for release. you couldn’t deny him any longer.
“you’re so good for me, my sweet boy”.
your hand make it’s way back onto his length, resuming the pace you originally set. mike reached his high quickly, reducing him to a whiny mess while you helped him ride out his orgasm. huge white spurts of cum painted his tummy and your hand. you let his breathing come back to normal before peeling your hand off his softening cock. mike picked up a towel from the floor and wiped both you and himself off before leading you to his bed. you immediately felt comfortable in the familiar bed. he found his way into your arms, one of the only ways he can fall asleep.
“i love you so much”, he sleepily mumbles into your neck. you give his temple a loving kiss.
“i love you too, mike. you know i’ll always take care of you.”
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thebestofoneshots · 3 months
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This isn’t really a request but this came to may head at three in the morning ok Imagine like your getting fucked by one of the Marauders or all of them and yk those moving pictures they have in the wizard world image they have a whole box filled of the reader getting back shots and EVERYTHING 😵‍💫🥴
THE STASH | marauders x reader
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Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader
Word Count: 5 k
Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, a little bit of PTSD on Sirius, pictures taken w/o reader’s knowledge, reader being insecure and gaining back confidence thanks to the boys.
Prompt: You find the boy's stash, filled with lusty pictures and they make you feel insecure, thoughts about not being good enough for them arise, the catch is, that’s THE OLD stash. (Happy ending)
Notes: I had a similar idea already in my head so when I saw this ask I just knew I had to make it happen.
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♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut
You knocked on their door a couple of times when no one said anything, you decided to let yourself  in, “Rem? Jamie? Sirius?” 
No answer. 
You looked around and went to sit by Remus’ bed. He said he’d see you in their room later that night for study and maybe something more, but with study club and prefect duties, you assumed he was as busy as the two other boys were with the quidditch training. You didn’t mind it much though, their room was a lot more quiet to study in than yours, and it was always fun to see their surprised faces when they walked in and you were there. 
You were taking your book and some parchment out when a pot of ink fell from your bag and onto the floor. There was a thud and then another one and then it spilled all over. You gasped and left the bag on the side before leaning down to pick it up. You whispered a quick “reparo,” and the crystal pot wasn’t leaking anymore, but the ink was still on the floor and some of it was spilling down the wooden floorboard. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you summoned a napkin from your bag and started to clean as best as you could, but it didn’t seem to be working, it was still spilling down into what looked like a nook on the floor. You frowned and looked at the wooden board in detail only to realize there was a section that was a little more worn than the rest. 
You frowned and tried to lift the board by digging your nails on the side but it wasn’t working, you huffed and walked over to Sirius’ night table to see if he still had his pocket knife there. Luckily he did, and you took it, pulling out one of the blades and using it as a crane to lift the wooden board.
Once you did you realized the ink had slipped inside most of the things they kept in there. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered continuously as you tried to pull off the things in fear that they would be ruined with the ink. There were some old letters, some hand-rolled cigars, a few potions and then a small box, that one had gotten most of the ink. You winced and pulled it out, biting your lip as you tried to concentrate. You had been so busy with the cleaning, that you never saw the spiderwebs that covered most of the items. 
“Evanesco,” you whispered, focused solely on the ink, which successfully disappeared, but so did the small lock they had on the box and it opened by itself. You blinked a couple of times when you saw what was inside. You carefully grabbed one of the images, a stunning red-headed witch, winking at you as she bounced around, with her very large, and very beautiful breasts in full display. 
You gulped as you stared at her, she wiggled her shoulders a bit and gave you another wink. You sucked in a breath, she was freaking stunning. And probably there because of James’ fixation with redheads. 
The rest of the pictures were turned over, but curiosity got the best of you, and you took another piece of paper from the box. That one was bent in four, as if it had been ripped from a magazine. You slowly unbend it, first one fold and then the other and there was another stunning witch in the image. 
This one had smaller breasts, but she was leaning down on a bed, perfectly manicured hands brushing over her own folds, two perfectly long and well-shaped legs on the side. She had dark skin and the light reflected on her legs as she accommodated on the bed, her head leaning back with what looked like a sigh as she rolled her hand over her clit. She too was beautiful, and perfect. 
You sat the image on the side, next to the redhead and pulled another one. One of the smaller ones, only to be met with yet another stunning witch, perfectly flat stomach, and beautiful perky breasts, she was riding a pillow, one hand on the bed and looking straight at you as she bit her lips, inviting, enticing. You placed her next to the others as you pulled another image. And then another, and then another. 
Image after image, perfectly attractive witches in all sorts of positions, some by themselves, some with companions (either other hot witches or the cock of a wizard or two). You pressed your legs together, there was a mix of feelings inside you. First of all, you were a little turned on after seeing such kind of imagery. But second, and most important. You were a little upset. 
Which was ridiculous, you knew. Expecting the boys to pleasure themselves with the thought of you in mind when you weren’t around was stupid, especially when there were clearly much better and hotter witches in the market. What with their perfectly round breasts and their beautiful lips and flat stomachs and long legs and rosy cunts. You looked at them with a bit of a frown, they all had something in common, they were perfect, and you? You were far, far from that. 
Now you weren’t upset that the boys were doing themselves, you knew men needed a lot more release than women did and you tried to keep that in mind as you placed all the beautiful witches back in their box, but you couldn’t help but think: Did they also think of them when they were with you? Did they imagine the beautiful redhead’s breasts when they were kissing yours, or maybe that they were in between the legs of that girl with the gorgeous reflective skin instead of your own? 
While the pictures were meant to be stimulating, and they had been a little at the beginning, the more you thought about them, the more you thought they were so much unlike you and the more your thoughts continued to spiral. 
“Such beautiful witches…” you murmured as you closed the box, “and they are equally gorgeous men… why are they–“ You didn’t finish your words out loud, too painful to say them outside of your head. 
Why are they with me? 
You carefully placed the box back into its spot, cleaned the rest of the things that had gotten stained and placed everything back in their stash. You carefully placed the wooden plank back where it belonged and put Sirius’ knife back in his drawers. You took a deep breath, not feeling up for much and instead ripped a page from your notebook. 
“I’m feeling a little sick, see you boys tomorrow.”
It was simple enough not to make them question further, you left it on top of Remus’ bed and left the room. 
The following day, the boys being as marvelous and attentive as they were, had gotten you to forget about the stash almost completely. And things had been absolutely perfect since then.
At least until a few days later, you had been playing wizards chess with Sirius on his bed, and after he beat you for the third time making you feel both hopeless and a little dumb for not anticipating his moves –which was also ridiculous because Sirius had been a wizard chess champion– he offered to make it up to you. 
It was in the spark in his eyes that you knew exactly what he meant. You bit your lip, Remus was reading a book on his bed while James was snoring lightly next to him, one hand draped across the other boy’s torso. You knew they’d want to join in when they realized what you and Sirius were up to, and it sent a shiver down your stomach. 
“What do you say, doll?” Sirius asked as he levitated the chess board and the broken pieces to the side, inviting you to come closer.
You huffed “You think you can make it up with your little puppy eyes?” 
Sirius pretended to think about it for a second before nodding. “While they should be enough, I’m still planning to use more than just my looks to make you feel better.” 
You returned the smile and leaned closer to him, moving to straddle his sitting form, his back was pressed to the headboard and you could feel he was at least a little excited as you leaned into him. 
“Did you win so many times just so you could say that to me?” You asked in disbelief, you were drumming your fingers near the nape of his neck.
“I might have been a little extra attentive,” he replied as he grabbed onto your hips and placed a kiss on your neck. “I know how riled up you get when you can’t best me,” he said before placing another kiss, this time further up, “I kind of enjoy seeing your little frown, and angry looks,” he admitted, he was now kissing your jaw. You rolled your hips into his and he tightened his grip on your hips in response. 
You smiled, loving the fact that you knew exactly what Sirius liked and how to get him worked up, at least as much as he knew of you. You rolled your hips again and he reached his hand under your skirt, feeling the outside of your leg before flicking his hand to the inside of it. To the softer skin that he grabbed with firm tenderness. Itching his hand closer and closer, making sure to massage your skin, tauntingly. 
You leaned your head onto his shoulder, letting his beautiful hair fall on your face as you rolled your hips again, a lot softer this time, matching his pace and wanting his hand to come closer. 
“Eager, are we?” he teased.
“Shhh, you’ll wake up Jamie,” you said as you leaned over to kiss his neck. He bit his lip to hold back a moan and finally placed his hand over your panties, tracing a soft line over your slit. You bucked your hips against his hand and he chuckled lightly. 
Remus, who had been focused on his book so far, frowned and looked up at the two of you, smirking a little when he noticed what you were up to. Of course, he knew that chuckle, it was Sirius’ sexy teasing laugh. 
“Easy love or you’ll be the one to wake up Prongs,” he said, leaning his head to your ear and softly nibbling on it. He traced his hand over your slit a couple more times, and you bucked your hips again. He smiled, you didn’t see it, but you felt it against your skin, “All right, all right…” he said as he flicked his finger over the hem of your panties and moved them aside. You leaned even closer to him as he dug his fingers in, “All of this for me?” he teased as he felt how wet you were. 
Remus, who was now only half looking at his book, had somewhat of a fun time as he listened in to your conversation with Sirius. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find it stimulating. But he also knew Sirius had had a bit of a bad week, so he thought of letting him have you just for himself, at least for a little bit longer, or until James woke up, just as eager to join in. 
“Sirius please,” you whined with a frown and he smiled, letting his fingers trace up until they found your clit, making circles over it, which had you bucking your hips against him again. You bit the side of your cheek as you allowed him to move his hand, leaning in to kiss his neck again, to muffle any possible moans with his skin. 
“May I?” he asked, teasing your entrance with his index. 
“Mhm,” you said and bucked your hips again, eager for him to do his thing. And he complied, digging his finger inside and allowing it to move inside you as expertly as ever. 
“So tight,” he whispered, Remus’ cock twitching at Sirius’ words and reconsidering whether he actually wanted to wait more before joining in. 
He did not, so he carefully lifted James’ arm from his torso and walked towards Sirius’ bed. He sat right beside the two of you, a cocky smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side, “You two having fun there?” he asked, “without me?” 
“You’re always welcome to join in Moony,” Sirius said with a teasing grin as he pulled you back just a little. You had both of your hands on Sirius’ shoulders, and you were now using them as leverage to ride his hand. 
Moony smiled, “I might just watch for a while,” he said, leaning back and placing one of his hands on the back of Sirius’ neck. He knew how much small actions and touches like that made Sirius react, and he smiled as the boy’s breath hitched in his throat. He then turned to look at you, a mischievous grin on his face, he took his wand out and whispered “Evanesco.”  
Suddenly both your shirt and bra disappeared, giving both boys the perfect sight of your breasts perking up at the sudden cold. Sirius grunted as he stared, and Remus hummed satisfied. You clenched around Sirius’ fingers –which were now two– whimpered and let out a soft moan. 
But then, as you felt their gazes on you, and you felt your own boobs bouncing as you continued to ride Sirius’ expert fingers, you started to feel self-conscious, of how you looked, of how they were staring at you, on whether they were actually thinking of you or imagining something else, someone else. Maybe the beautiful redhead? The busty blonde? The reflextive-skinned goddess with the beautiful legs? The brunette with the beautiful ass?
Suddenly the lights flickered, and they were gone. You relaxed, Sirius felt the grip on his shoulder untensing, but he thought it was because you were close. But Sirius liked to see your fucked out face when he had his fingers inside you, and in seconds the lights were turned back on, and you tensed instantly. 
The muscle movements were normal, but the way you suddenly dug your nails into his shoulders was not, at least not in the moment it was happening and not in the way it was either. Something was up.
He stopped moving his hand in an instant, “you all right, angel?” he asked, a small wrinkle forming on his forehead as his brows furrowed together. 
You seemed to be lost in thought for a second, Remus noticed that too, “Yeah… just. Let’s leave the lights off today.” 
Now it was Remus’ turn to frown, he took his hand from Sirius’ neck and sat straighter, pulling back and leaning in closer to look at your face, his hand instinctively traveling to your thigh.  Sirius, with one hand still inside you –now unmoving– was brushing his thumb in circles on your waist, they were both giving you their unwavering attention, and your breath hitched in your throat. You looked at them nervously, your eyes traveling from boy to boy at unprecedented speeds and you bit your lip, and then the lights were off again. 
Once they were off, you sighed and leaned your head on Sirius’ shoulder. He felt how you relaxed in an instant, and his frown deepened. “Angel, what is it?” 
“Nothing, light’s giving me a headache,” you lied. 
Sirius turned to Remus, while he couldn’t see much, he knew Remus would probably be able to see his questioning stance easily, with his enhanced senses, at least. “You believe her?” he mouthed. 
Remus shook his head in response, and when he realized Sirius couldn’t actually see he turned to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure that’s it, luv?” 
You swallowed, which was enough indication you weren’t, and you lied again, “Yes, let’s just, continue as is.” 
Sirius knew you were lying, and he hated it when you lied to him, he also hated not being able to see shit while Remus could see your every reaction so he turned the lights on, didn’t even use his wand for it, and you tensed again. 
You were taken aback by that and swallowed thickly. Your breath was slightly ragged and it was not because you were turned on, in fact, if anything, you felt rather apprehensive now. You cleared your throat. “You know, maybe I’m just not feeling it,” you lied again and pulled yourself off of his hand. 
Sirius felt way too many things at the same time, he was worried about your reaction since he thought he’d done something wrong. He was angry because he knew you were hiding the exact reason; he wanted, no, he needed to know what was up so he would never do it again, and thirdly, he was upset, he’d felt…rejected. And by you, no other. 
By the time Sirius reacted again, you were buttoning your shirt up and walking towards their door. James, who had been asleep till then, was finally awoken by the lights coming on and off and the small commotion going on. He was confused, at first he thought you were just playing, but perhaps that was not it. 
But Sirius was faster, and he jumped over Remus to get to the door just as you were opening it and shut it closed. You jumped back just a little, shocked at how fast he’d moved, you were now the one with a frown, anger bubbling to your chest, Sirius’ temper had always been something you’d learn to deal with, and even if you knew it was justified now, that didn’t stop yours from flaring up. 
“That’s not it,” he said confidently, “that’s not it and you’re not getting out until you tell me what’s upset you.” 
“Sirius,” Remus said now, ever the conciliator. He’d also stood from the bed and walked the few strides left to get next to the two of you. 
Maybe it wasn’t the best reaction you could have had, but you were already pretty shaken up by the situation at hand, by your rather torturous thoughts and by Srius’ slamming of the door. “Oh, so you know my body better than I do?” you said defensively, “you would know if I have or not a headache.” 
“YES!” he responded stubbornly. “I know how it reacts when it has a headache and it’s not the way you were reacting now!” 
You shook your head as you scoffed, James was now sitting on the bed looking at the situation both confused and worried. 
“Moony! Back me up on this?” he said as he turned his face to him. 
Remus bit his lip, as he shook his head, thinking before speaking. “He’s right luv, that was not your headache reaction.” 
You scoffed, “ff course, you’d take his side.” 
“I’m not taking any sides.” 
“Well you are, just don’t realize it!” you said angrily. “If I say I have a headache, I have one and that’s it. Now, I want to leave.” 
“Darling,” Remus said as he let out a breath, he seemed worried and upset as well now, you were trying really hard not to feel bad about it, trying to remind yourself why you needed to leave. 
It was Sirius who spoke again, his lips quivering as he found the right words, “Just tell me what I did wrong, I’ll never do it again, I promise,” his voice broke near the end. He was panicking, he was terrified he’d hurt you and that you’d leave thinking the worst of him. You knew what was hapening had brought back some past trauma and you didn’t want to be the catalyst of another panick attack.
You took a deep breath when you heard him, your frown deepening as you considered your words, “I found your stash.” 
The three men went quiet in an instant. Sirius looked like a deer trapped in headlights, Remus’ jaw had tightened and you’d heard James’ gasp in the back. 
“Darling, I–“ Sirius tried to speak but you cut him off. 
“No, no,” you tried to reason, more with yourself than with him. “I get, it’s fine, you need your release time and all that, I don’t mind.” 
“Well, you clearly do,” Remus said. You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was James’. He had walked towards you the moment he heard about the stash but you hadn’t noticed until then. You flinched but missed the hurt look that etched his features as he looked at you. 
“Well yes. But it’s a stupid feeling nonetheless. I’ll get over it. Just need time.” 
“It was me,” James said from behind, “it was my idea, not Sirius’. Don’t be upset at him.” 
You swallowed thickly, not wanting to be angry at James for something so natural in men, let alone because you knew this whole mess was created due to your own thoughts and insecurities, not theirs. And now you were upsetting them, what a great bIoody girlfriend you were. 
“I don’t bIoody care whose idea it was!” you spat. “Please let me off,” you said then, leg bouncing, you wanted to get out before you said something that would upset them more. 
“We’ll never do it again if that makes you feel better,” Sirius tried. 
“No it– It fucking doesn’t, okay? It’s fine, it’s… Found it a couple of nights ago when my ink pot fell on the floor.” The three boys exchanged a look with each other, had either of them changed its spot? “It’s pretty fresh in my mind and– I just– I can’t stop thinking you’re imagining them while being with me.” 
“Them?” Sirius asked, confused. 
“The pretty witches!” you responded, almost angrily. Remus, who was in front of you looked confused, and you huffed before adding in more detail. “Beautiful redhead,” you looked at James. “Gorgeous blonde,” you added as you turned to Sirius. Then looked back at the taller boy, “need I elaborate?” 
You heard James gasp from behind. “She found the old stash!” 
“Ah, so you have a new and improved one,” you said now, and shook your head as you turned at the door. Sirius was leaning in and he had a cheeky smile on his face now, which pissed you off even further. 
“You could call it that,” he said with a shrug. 
“Sirius,” Remus said calmly again. “Don’t.” 
But Sirius just smiled instead, “Oh but, I’m impressed. Our lovely angel was jealous.” 
“I was not.” You said flatly. “Get off the door, please,” the last part was much more of a beg than a demand. 
Sirius shook his head, “not until you see the new stash.” 
Remus and James exchanged looks after that, not even sure if they should or shouldn’t stop Sirius. 
“I don’t want to see the witches you use to wank off now, it’s enough with the images already in my head. Can’t stop thinking of them, of you thinking about them when you’re looking at me.” 
Sirius’ face fell instantly, his teasing stance almost faltering but not his determined blockage of the door. 
“That’s not–“ 
“Have you considered perhaps it was the other way around?” Remus asked as he placed a slightly hesitant hand on your shoulder. 
“What?” 
“That we imagined you when looking at them.” 
You were taken aback by that. No, you hadn’t considered that. “What about the redhead, can’t tell me she wasn’t there because of James’ old obsession with Evans?” 
James sighed, it was. That’s why they had to get a new stash. 
“She needs to see the new stash,” Sirius said while looking at the two other boys. 
“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” James intervened, it had been his idea after all, and he had admitted it to you now. He didn’t want to have you get mad over something else, and this time your anger would be indisputably justifiable. 
“I think it is,” Sirius insisted. 
You sighed, “you can continue deciding if you’re going to show me your new fuckable witches or not a different day. Sirius, get off the door.” 
He shook his head and turned to James, “Please?” 
“I don’t want to see them! Enough is enough!” 
You turned to the side to try and find another exit when you bumped into Remus, he had a box in his hand. He raised it a bit, you knew what it was instantly. 
“Remus!” James complained and went to get it but was hastily stopped by Sirius who got in the way and trapped him in his arms. 
“Prongs behave!” He said sternly. 
The path to the door was free now, but Remus’ serious stance made you curious, even more when he moved his finger to his lips and bit hard enough to draw bIood. 
“What the fu–“ 
“It’s so no one can open but us,” he explained. “We bIood charmed it.” 
You looked at him with a shocked face, you didn’t think they’d go to such lengths to hide their spicy stuff, what the hell did they even have there?
Some of the metal hinges at the top moved around a little bit, looking almost like a miniature Gringotts vault, and then it snapped open. Remus pushed it your way. You looked at the three boys before picking the first image up. It was Remus, shirtless Remus on the day you’d gone swimming at the Potter’s last summer. He was pulling his hair back and water glistened all over his torso, he looked at you and winked, before turning to look at something else. 
You gasped and pulled another picture, it was James and Sirius, both also shirtless, and they were making out under a tree. Sirius had his leg in between James’ and was leaning onto him rather intensely. 
The next one was you, you had the swimsuit you’d bought that summer, the one you thought looked really good on you, and you were on your knees, looking for something on the sand, your ass was slightly prompted up and the picture was obviously focused on that. You swallowed thickly and went to grab another one. 
You again, this time while making out with Remus, his hand was on your ass and you had realized they were taking a picture, looking at the camera with a diverted gasp before covering the lens with your hand. 
You took another one, and this time around you were genuinely shocked, it was Remus, being blown by James. His pinky pretty lips wrapped around Rem’s cock. “Oh, wow.” 
James frowned, he knew what else there was in there and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to see it, he had never felt worse about his own ideas than now. Responsible, he knew he had bertrayed you, in a way. You took the next picture and stared at it for a minute. 
It was you again, well, you’re back at least. You were riding Sirius, moving back and forth over his cock as he helped you, hands on your waist as he bit his lip. You didn’t see your face, but you knew it hadn’t been that long ago. If Sirius’ new tattoo was any telling. 
You looked at the boys shocked, you hadn’t even realized they’d taken the picture, but you looked as pretty as any witch in the other photos, how had they gotten you to look so good? 
They hadn’t done anything, it was just you. 
“You don’t have to–“ James started, but you had already picked up another picture.
“Shut up,” you said simply.
 You again, this time you were sprawled on the bed with a blindfold on your head. That had been on your birthday. James had one of his hands on your leg, dangerously close to your slit while Sirius was kissing your breast and sucking at your nipples. 
And there was more, a lot of pictures from that day, all in compromising positions. Some involving you and the boys, some involving only the boys on different occasions, some you remembered, some in which you hadn’t even been present. There was even one of Sirius wanking off to the picture of you in the swimsuit you had seen earlier. 
“I’m sorry–“ James said, now sounding distressed and shaking Sirius off him. “I’m sorry angel, we should have never done it.” 
You grabbed another one of the photos, it had clearly been rushed, the camera being hidden as you turned your head to look at the boys, this time around you were kneeling on the bed, and James was jerking himself off to you, teasing your entrance before pulling out completely and allowing his cum to fall over your ass and back. 
“You’re right.,” you said as you placed the pictures back in the box, expression neutral. “You should have never done it without asking me–” James swallowed. 
“Love I–“ 
“James, shut up!” you said again, giving the pictures another look. “You should have never done it without asking me first,” you said as you flipped through some more pics and tsking. “I would have helped.” 
James’ jaw dropped, and you looked at him with a cheeky smile. Sirius was looking at you proudly and satisfied with his choice while Remus stared at the picture you had in your hand. The one where you were getting a back shot but was shaky and blurry because the camera had been hidden before you saw it. 
You moved the picture up, holding it between your fingers as you displayed it to the boys, “What do you say we recreate this one, but with better quality?” 
Sirius scoffed a laugh and smiled. 
“I’ll get the camera,” Remus said simply.
James was still stunned, and you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Sirius leaned from behind and kissed you on the cheek “I told them you should know about it from the beginning but they said you’re too pure for it.” 
You laughed at that, “you boys keep calling me angel,” you said as you turned to Sirius and wrapped your hands around his neck, “but I wouldn’t have done all the things I have with you all if I wasn’t the exact opposite,” you added with a smirk.
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taintedcigs · 5 months
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⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ୨ ୧ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃.
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summary: in which you show your best friend the new christmas lingerie you bought for a guy, and he finally snaps and shows you how much better he is for you. (wc:2.8k+)
warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up irl), possessive!eddie, slight breeding kink, degrading, praises, kinda dom!eddie, but v soft dom/sub tones, kind of a daddy kink (its used like 2 times i can never properly do daddy kinks im stupid) no use of ‘y/n’, nicknames!
pairing: best friend!eddie munson x bratty!fem!reader
authors note: so i was just looking for christmas lingeries, and saw those bow ones that wrap around your body. and i was listening to sabrina carpenter's fruitcake ep and this was made oops. not proof-read ignore any mistakes pls or ill bite u. [EDIT: sorry for posting this a million times tumblr won't co-operate w me so i got rid of the dividers. i hope it works or im gonna bang my head against the wall.]
“Do you think Chris will like it?” You hummed, admiring yourself against the mirror, moving around with a giggle as anticipation pooled in Eddie’s tummy, his breath getting more ragged, and pants getting tighter around his relentless bulge. 
Speechless. 
Eddie stood speechless, gaze darkening the more he admired you, he didn’t even know which part of you he wanted to take a mental image of. 
It was like you stepped from his filthiest fantasies, giggling up at him with that alluring smirk on your face. God, you had to know what you were doing to him. 
The red bowknot wrapped around you perfectly, cradling your curves, tantalizing him further and further. You were his precious Christmas gift, just waiting to be unwrapped by him, and him only. 
Not that stupid jock who probably couldn’t even make you cum no matter how hard he tried. 
No, you needed him, you needed Eddie to unwrap you, and show you how to properly be punished for even suggesting if this was good enough for you to surprise your boy toy with. 
“N-no!” He spat quickly, getting up from the comfortable way he was sprawled on your bed.
Your head cocked to face him. “W-what? Do you not like it?” You jutted out your bottom lip, and he so badly wanted to bite those plushy lips, shut you up, and show you who fucking owned you. 
You had been teasing him non-stop lately, and this had been your last resort, you knew Eddie always fell for your jealous antics, but this had been too much, you knew this would finally push him off the edge, finally handle you the way you wanted to be handled, rough and possessive. 
Neither of you were good at communicating your feelings, but this, this is what you were good at. And you had been wanting Eddie ever since the two of you became best friends. 
There was something unspoken there, a line the two of you always wanted to cross, always handsy with each other, always too close, but never stepping over that boundary. And you were growing tired of it, the nights you spent with your fingertips circling over your clit, imagining his calloused hands, mewling for him. 
And the nights, the mornings, the showers he spent, abusing his hardened cock with the images of you sprawled out for him, begging to fuck him had been torturous enough.
He deserved this, he deserved you.  
This was it, and Eddie was willing to fuck over the friendship once and for all. To finally make you his. 
“N-no, I like- love it.” He stammered, taking a step closer to you, “but there’s no fuckin’ way he gets you like this.” 
You wanted to smirk, the excitement you felt in your tummy was unexplainable, heat pooling with a need for him as you wanted nothing more than to have him push you against the sturdy beige wall of your room, exploring you, marking you as his. 
“That inexperienced asshole, doesn’t deserve you,” he spat, pushing his body closer to yours, merely inches away from you, and you nodded dumbly at his words. 
“You need someone who can take better care of you, princess. That can handle you like you deserve to be handled, don’t you think?” He coos, hand dipping to the lacey bow that adorned your curves, everywhere he touches feels hot, so hot that you almost whine, just at the sensation of his rough hands. 
“Do you think he knows you better than me, angel?” He tsks mockingly and you’re quick to shake your head. 
“That’s what I thought too, baby…” He hums, running his fingertips over the soft fabric that barely covers your slit, “Do you think he can handle a brat like you? D’you think he can actually put you in your place like I would?”
His fingers now dance over the wrapped bow, teasingly, wanting nothing more than to unwrap it and see you fully, naked, and begging for him. 
Your thighs rubbed together with need, “Honey,” he hummed dangerously close to your ear, breath fanning against your cheeks, and you melted into him, “if I unwrap you, am I going to find you soaking for me?” He pressed open-mouthed kisses down the shell of your ear, tongue striping a lick down to your throat. 
The anticipation is killing you and you want to answer him, but his slight touches on your body are making it impossible, he’s fucking perfect, and could probably make you cum undone with just his words. 
You whimper slightly, glossy bottom lips still jutting at him and he tsks, “Nuh-uh… baby, I thought I told you not to be a brat.”
“Use your words, sweets.”
“Yes,” You breathed, barely, eyes opening wide to see the way his amber gaze darkened. 
“Yes, what?” He taunted, grip on your body getting tighter. 
“Y-yes, sir,” you gulped, gauging Eddie’s reaction obediently. 
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he smirks under his greedy moan, quick to let his hands roam around everywhere, fingertips slipping underneath the fragile fabric barely covering your slit, he groans when he realizes just how wet you are. 
“Is that all for me, baby?” He hums into your mouth, swirling your slickness inside of your clit, grinning while having no mercy on your lips, all biting and nibbling. 
You’re quick to nod, breathless when he’s basically everywhere, and it isn’t long before he frustratingly unties the stupid bow getting in the way of him and you. 
With a growl he almost rips it apart, tossing it aside, and his eyes widen at the sight in front of him. 
“F-fuck, princess, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he moans needily, eyes taking in the sight of you, naked, pooling for him. Perfect tits, waiting to be sucked by him, bare ass waiting to be marked up by him, crimson red handprints would look perfect on it, he decides. 
He presses his plushy lips onto yours, desperate and sucking on your tongue, while his finger slides inside of your tight cunt, other grabbing onto your breasts, and you can do nothing more than mewl for him. 
Then his finger retracts from your sloppy walls, you whine at the loss and he’s quick to shove his fingers down your throat, you happily accept it, sucking greedily on his fingers, tasting yourself on his fingers, it’s all so filthy and you throb more and more for him. 
His darkened amber gaze is on you, almost groaning at the way you suck on his fingers, wishing he could fuck your greedy throat with his aching cock. But not now, because fuck, he needs to be inside of you. 
With a growl he wastes no time picking you up, tossing you against the bed with a soft plop, and you giggle when he settles beneath your thighs, enjoying how rough and attentive he is.
His grabby hands are everywhere, hips rolling into you, but he’s far too clothed, yet you can still feel his bulge pressing against your thigh, making your sloppy cunt clench around nothing. You’re desperate, and he feels big, so big that your mouth waters at the thought of him not fitting into your mouth, his cock stretching you out, fully.  
You tug at his pants, almost signaling for him to take them off, so that he could finally be inside of you. He taunts your desperate attempt with a breathy laugh, “Patience, doll,” he tuts, voice low and gravelly, making you hum sweetly. 
He wets his lip before his lips attack you again, hands giving more attention to your breasts, pinching your nipples to earn more whines out of your pouted lips, wasting no time to dive down into your aching cunt, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses all over your breasts, your stomach, and your dripping inner thighs, doing it all with a grin while he watches you shudder beneath him. 
He takes his time admiring your pussy, padded thumb slightly playing with your clit as he watches your eyes squeeze shut at his movements, he groans at your lips glistening with arousal. Perfect, just fucking perfect. And he doesn’t know how much longer he can handle not being inside of you. 
His cock is strained against his zipper, and it hurts, just the thought of your velvety walls engulfing him is enough to have him explode in his pants. He needs you. 
“Such a perfect fuckin’ pussy,” he growls, head dipping between your shaking thighs, inhaling and tasting you once he places open-mouthed kisses on your pussy lips, and your clit, giving you all the attention you need. 
“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, too,” he hums into your walls, lapping up at your juices like a man-starved, and you’re too far gone to register anything, nodding dumbly and trashing beneath him. 
“Need you to sit on my face after we’re done, baby,” he purred. “But I need to fuck you now, doll, need to feel this tight cunt wrapped around my cock, yea?” He pulls back slightly, and you pout at the sudden loss of contact, it makes him grin, knowing how desperate you are for him. 
Frustrated, and restrained, he unbuckles his belt quickly, even quicker to take off his boxers, with a hiss, his cock slaps against his stomach, your eyes widening with it. 
No wonder you felt his bulge against your ass every time he passed by you, his cock slightly brushing against your ass, making you whimper quietly. No wonder you always felt the need to rub your thighs together when he wore those slutty grey sweatpants, he was packing. 
Slightly curved to the left, thick, and deliciously beading with pre-cum, his angry crimson red tip faced your inner thighs, you nearly whined at the sight. “S-so big,” you murmured, doe-eyes looking up at him with so much promise. 
“I’m going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated,” he grins up at you. “Gonna ruin you for everyone else, sweetheart.” You whine at that, his possessiveness slicking your thighs further as if that was even possible. 
“P-please,” you looked up at him, desperate. 
He tugs at his cock at your mewls, teeth drawing on his bottom lip at you. All sprawled out for him, legs spread apart, glistening pussy greedily waiting for his cock. 
He reaches for the condom but you’re quick to stop him. “No, no. ‘M on the pill,” you murmured. He nearly groans at your words. The thought of fucking you raw, feeling your walls hug him sweetly shoots pleasure through his entire body. 
“P-please, sir, wanna feel you,” you cry out, nearly wailing, glossy eyes looking down at him, pleading. 
And who’s he to deny you? 
“Want to feel you inside, fully, been waitin’ for this so long, Eds.” He groans at that, his cock aching, wanting to spill his load inside of you. 
“Already, beggin’ honey?” A teasing throaty chuckle escapes his lips, he’s more than amused, letting just the tip of his fat cock tease over your entrance, pre-cum smearing all over your throbbing clit.
“Mhmm,” you unashamedly moan. “I need you, been spendin’ too much time, touching myself to the thought of you, your cock… Need you to stretch me, ruin me, wanna be yours so badly,” you whined, voice cracking as you desperately thrashed beneath him, his teasing making you pathetic and dumb. 
That’s all he needed to hear before he slammed inside of you with a rough thrust, he couldn’t help himself, knowing that he could’ve had you all this time, made you his, and you were fucking touching yourself to the thought of him? 
He was about to lose it, and you were quick to cry out at his size, your tight walls trying to accommodate his fat cock, feeling him stretching you fully. 
“F-fuck!” He gritted through his teeth, holding onto your hips with a bruising hold. Your whines and your pussy clamping around his cock was enough to send him into a frenzy, wanting nothing more than to fill you up. 
“Eds, t-too much,” you wail out, glossy eyes looking up at him. 
“Ssshh, I know, baby, I know,” he coos condescendingly, making you whine more. “But you can handle it, can’t you, princess?” He bit on your bottom lip with a grin, “Look how well this greedy cunt is pullin’ me in,” he thrusts further into you with a groan. 
You cry out at the intrusion, welcoming the way the slight pain turns fully into pleasure, his cock driving into you with such force that you can almost feel him everywhere. “See? Such a good girl f’me, mmpf, just like that, honey,” he praises, flutters fill your stomach and heat rushes to your cheeks. 
He’s so perfect and you’re so proud to be his good girl. His padded thumb is quick to find its way to your clit, circling it gently to elicit more pretty whines from you. “This is mine, now.”
With a groan, “you’re all mine.” He continues to gloriously pump into you, enjoying the way you look so fucked out, his fingertips rubbing against your clit, you feel so full, so fucking full. Eyes lulling the more his cock dives deeper into you. 
“All yours, daddy,” you breathe, not realizing what you just said, it makes Eddie hiss loudly as his movements pick up, eyes rolling to the back of his head with a delicious growl spilling from his lips. 
You’re going to be the fucking death of him. 
“P-princess, fuck, Jesus fuckin’, you can’t just say shit like that to me,” He spills out through gritted teeth, enjoying the way you move your hips against him, desperate for more friction. 
“Look at you, shit,” Eddie groaned, pressing his thumb into your clit with more pressure, circling it with a grin, cock hitting that spongey spot deliciously while your back arched in pleasure. 
Babbles, and incoherent pleas left your lips, and Eddie grinned at the way you looked so cockdrunk on him, clenching around his cock, letting him know that you were getting closer. 
“Such a whore for me, aren’t ya?” He mocked, rough hands squeezing your cheeks as he made you look at him, “Love the way you go so dumb on me, pretty girl, not a single thought in that lil’ head of yours, only my cock, isn’t that right?” 
Your breathing picks up at his words, orgasm pooling in your tummy, you know you’re about to lose it soon, “Daddy, please,” you whimpered, not even knowing what you were begging for, it was all too much, his filthy words, his thumb on your clit, the way he was deep inside of your walls, hitting spots you didn’t know that existed. 
He growls at that, sinking further into you, “I know, baby,” he murmurs into your heated skin, reveling in the way you claw at his back, freshly manicured nails marking him. “You wanna cum, pretty girl? Go ahead, and cream my cock like the good girl you are, hmm?” His hold on your hips was rough, his other hand still circling your swollen clit, hips smacking against yours with such force that you were sure you were entirely gone now. 
“Come with me, Daddy,” Is what you managed to slip past your lips before you couldn’t handle it anymore, head falling back, mouth forming into a perfect ‘o’ shape, you felt that tight coil snap in your tummy, making your vision blurry as you sobbed beneath him. 
Your pussy squeezed and gripped his cock deliciously and with one more of his hips rutting into you, your orgasm was quick to trigger his. “Shit, gon- gonna fuck my load into you, angel.” He growled through gritted teeth, thrusts becoming shallow. 
“Gonna fill you with so much cum that y-you won’t get it outta you for days, f-fuck!”
“Feel s-so fuckin, good, baby, shit, shit, shit!” He grunted, and finally spilled his load inside of you with a loud groan, painting your overstimulated walls, cock twitching inside of you as his groans mixed with yours. 
Breathless, fucked out, and just a little sated, he was quick to slip out of you only when he made sure your pussy milked him dry and that every single drop was inside of you. 
Both of you struggled to come down from your highs, all those years of pent-up sexual frustration too much to even sate. 
“We’re nowhere near done,” Eddie hummed breathlessly, his head cocking toward you. 
With a smirk, you turned to him. “Oh, yeah?” You quirked a brow, excitement, and pleasure were quick to pool at your tummy. 
“Mmmhmm, still need to punish you for that whole Chris thing, princess. Even though it worked,” He gave you a hearty chuckle, “Don’t think you can tease me like that and get away with it, pretty girl.”
“And what did you have in mind?”
“Those Christmas lights you hung up on that tree,” He pointed toward the giant tree, decorated with lots of flashy lights. 
“I’ve heard they were a really good substitute for ropes, hmm? And the best form of punishment for bratty girls,” he grinned wickedly, attacking your lips again without giving you a chance to breathe. 
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darklordofthesimp · 1 year
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Anything (König x Reader)
The 1st instalment in the Anything-Verse
Main Masterlist
Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
Like the characters? Read their fics below!
Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist
Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.
A/N: I have no idea how we got here
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?
Warnings: Graphic description of violence || Graphic description of injury || Graphic language
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“You’re a liability.”
The words rang like a church bell. You were never one for petty violence but in that moment, after he’d so calmly said the words, you thought that you just might kill him.
“A liability?” You hissed, glaring at your superior like he’d grown two heads. “I’m a sniper, Sir, not a fucking ninja.”
The captain simply shifted his weight lazily, unfazed by your temper. He’d dealt with it many times throughout the years but it hadn’t bothered him because you weren’t inherently his. You were somebody else’s spitfire, under another unit’s command; but now you were part of the 141 and you needed to learn.
“Come on, Birdy. You know I’m right.”
Birdy.
You had Soap to thank for the name. ‘Snipers and birds both shit on people from above’. It wasn’t creative and honestly you could have thought of one hundred better names to offer, but once Ghost started addressing you by Birdy, it was set in stone.
When you said nothing, he continued.
“You can’t fight your way out of a wet paper bag,” he scoffed, swallowing a snort when your eyes widened. “Sniper’s need to defend themselves too, Birdy. You learnt that the hard way, remember?”
How could you not?
The knife wound had healed but the memory of it had not. Images of the hooded man wedging a blade into your shoulder flickered across your vision. Fists bearing down onto your jaw. Fingers wrapped around your throat.
A chill skittered across your skin.
“So, what’s your suggestion?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
When the corner of Price’s mouth quirked upward, you’d already begun to regret asking.
“Simple, really.” He shrugged, “someone’s gonna train ya.”
Your stomach dropped and a cold shiver traced the length of your spine.
“Who, Sir?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Ghost’s not here. Everyone’s on leave.”
Price smirked.
“Not everyone.”
___
You felt nauseas.
Anxiety had your stomach in a death grip, and it was all you could do to not throw up. Pacing up and down the gym mats, you tried to cool your nerves.
There was only one person that had remained a complete anomaly to you and now he’d been given literal permission to beat the shit out of you.
Training.
You remembered what they loved to call ‘training’ at your old unit. You’d never been the fastest or the strongest, that was not your job. You were the one who could take make an impossible shot a kilometre away, but that’s not what ‘training’ entailed.
Your body ached at the memory.
There was a small noise by the doorway and your body stiffened. He was letting you know that he was there, his equivalent of a knock.
You both knew that he could have had you on your back whenever he pleased.
“König.” You acknowledged him as confidently as you could, turning to face the beast head on.
The giant stood in the doorway looking like the fucking bogey man himself.
“Birdy,” König inclined his head. Those dark, watchful eyes observed you from beneath his hood, taking in your visage. Heat licked the back of your neck and you began to sweat under his gaze.
He was clad in his usual getup from the waist down, the tactical cargo pants and the hefty boots being his barracks favourite. It was the hoodie that had caught you by surprise, you’d seen it a few times in passing, but up close it rendered you breathless.
“I didn’t realize you were staying with the 141,” you said, swallowing nervously as he stepped into the room, ducking his head to avoid hitting the frame above.
This was a sick, sick joke.
“My transfer was approved,” was the only explanation that he offered you.
You knew, logically, that what had happened between the both of you had been a misunderstanding. It was a communication failure on behalf of the brass that had almost gotten you killed but the idea of working with him, training with him, made your stomach drop.
König’s hands got to work removing his gloves and the memory of those fingers wrapped around your throat made you flinch.
You’d set up a sniper’s nest atop the rooftop, watching the entrance of the building the 141 was infiltrating. They were going to flush out the target and send him running right into your line of fire.
No-one had been informed of KorTac’s involvement.
You’d heard König before you’d seen him, the dismantling of your trip mine giving you enough indication to roll onto your back to investigate. By then, he was already upon you.
You’d kicked the rifle from his hands but that was where your advantage finished. He’d dragged you by your ankles from your weapon, straddling your flailing body as he got to work. The knife he’d brandished stabbed into your flesh violently, and at first, you’d thought he only punched you.
Until the searing hot pain bloomed across your body and blood sprayed across his hood.
Those emerald eyes were wild and hard as he gripped your face over your balaclava. You couldn’t think to react, dizzied by the agony of knife he twisted into your skin. His palm covered the entirety of your features, fingers tight against your temples as he pulled your head forward then smashed it back into the concrete.
You thought your skull had exploded.
Fists ploughed into your jaw but it was as though you were numb now. Finally, his fingers were drawn to your throat, squeezing tightly as he leaned in. The cloth of his hood brushed against your battered body, filling the space between you as his lips pressed against your ear.
“Your fight is finished,” he hissed heatedly. Then König pressed down into your skin.
You don’t remember what happened afterward. You knew that he’d been called off by his chain-of-command just in time to stop himself from ending your life, but that was according to Soap.
You were in a coma for two weeks.
It took you months to recover.
And only once you came back to work, fit to fight and ready to go, had you discovered that König had applied to transfer into the 141 shortly after the incident. KorTac had offered him up to fill in your position while you recovered.
Not only had the bastard nearly killed you but he’d taken your place.
Now that you were back, he would lose his place as a sniper and be back to running with the team on the ground.
König watched you carefully from where he stood.
“You’re my instructor,” you said plainly, stating the obvious. “Price made you my hand-to-hand combat trainer.
“Ironic, isn’t it,” his voice came quietly from beneath the hood, a small snort following in suit.
You would have laughed had you not been so fucking terrified. You were about to take your place back on the team, a position this giant clearly wanted and now he was given the chance to put you back into the hospital with no questions asked.
You wouldn’t be able to do anything against him. König was a mountain of a man, a force to be reckoned with, and while he tried to make himself as disarming as possible it was implausible to hide that frame.
“Did you want to get started?” König asked, leaning his hip against the table beside him. He was so casual for someone who had nearly killed you.
“No,” you said simply.
“Are you not up for this?” König ventured carefully, pushing off the bench and taking a slow step towards you. Your heart thrashed against your ribs at his approaching figure and you forced yourself to stay still. “You still have bruising-“
“That’s what happens when someone shatters your fucking face, cunt,” you snapped, casting your gaze from his. You were hoping that he wouldn’t bring it up, everyone had danced around your condition for so long. No one spoke about how fucking ugly you looked as you tried to recover.
“It was an accident,” his voice was hard, almost bewildered at your sudden aggression. “We both paid the price for someone else’s mistakes.”  
“Don’t talk to me about paying the price, you fucker,” you snapped, shoving against his chest. König yielded a step and it infuriated you even further to know that he’d allowed it. “You got the fucking job you wanted, you got the transfer you wanted, you got the training you wanted. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, but-“
“You wanna know what I got?” You snapped, shoving him harder this time. König’s eyes narrowed and he snatched your wrists, holding them against his ribs to stop your assault. You continued anyway, walking his body backward until his heels hit the wall. “I got put into a fucking coma.”  
König’s gaze softened, his chest heaving beneath your hands. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your fists, you could hear his breaths grow ragged.
“I know,” he murmured, his fingers tightening on your wrists. “I was assigned to watch over your bed for those two weeks."
You stared at him for a long moment, sniffling and gasping for air after your rant. König lowered his head and his grip loosened.
“What I did to you…” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. How ugly must you have become that he couldn’t withstand looking at his own handiwork?
You turned around, hiding the hot tears forming along your lashes. You were so fucking ashamed by the terror gripping your throat, embarrassed by how much your image affected you. You hated feeling disgusting. You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you at all times it was suffocating you, they gawked and stared and whispered about how your 'pretty face was ruined.'
You began to understand why people wear masks.
“You ruined me,” you rasped. “And I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”
König was silent from behind you, mulling over your words. You couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed by your outburst. He had stabbed you, shattered your skull, broken your nose and jaw and nearly snapped your neck- he deserved to listen to you yell at him at the very least.
Fingers slid over your shoulders, slowly turning you around to face him. You tugged against his hold half-heartedly, vision swimming beneath never-ending tears.
“Look at me, Birdy.” His voice was soft and pleading, his hand slowly moving to cup your bruised jaw. You froze as he manoeuvred you, forcing you to face him square on. König slowly lowered himself to rest a knee on the ground, leaving him still taller than you but closer to eye level.
With the hand that was free, he reached for his hood. You swallowed nervously as he carefully pulled it from his head, resting the cloth on his upright knee.
Dirty blonde hair lay splayed across his forehead, the length curling by his ears. Dark brows framed the emerald gaze that watched you intently, taking in your visage as you observed him. All of him.
The scars caught your attention.
Winding from his upper lip, across his eye and leaving a line through his brow, the winding length of damaged skin presented itself. There was another scar along the bridge of his nose that travelled across the width of his cheekbone and into his hair.
“Do I…” König trailed off, full lips parting as he mused over his next words. You stared in awe at the innocence of the freckles smattered across his features. “Are you afraid of me?”
You said nothing for a long moment, mesmerized by the features of a man that had haunted your thoughts for months. He’d been the centre of your existence for so long, the reason you ached and the reason you’d bled. König had plagued your every waking moment ever since the incident, and now he knelt before you. He was on his knees baring his vulnerabilities to you, knowing you could destroy him with it.
“Of course,” you whispered; your voice shaky as you met his gaze.
König’s expression became pleading, “then let me teach you how to beat me.”
His thumb lightly caressed your purple cheek, brows furrowed as he took in his handiwork. “Let me pay for what I’ve done by teaching you how to never let it happen again. And when you finally beat me, revenge will be yours and you may do as you wish.”
“Anything I want?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.
A wry, sad smile pulled at the corner of König’s mouth.
“Anything, mein vöglein.”
My little bird.
____
Next Chapter
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
assistant to the dm, steve harrington
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'secretly studying nerd shit' rated t | 1,361 words | cw: mild language | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, d&d references (could be inaccurate since i don't actually play), banter that's also flirting
🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉
"I just don't understand why you needed to borrow my character sheets. You don't even know what most of this means," Dustin said as he handed over the papers.
"I just need to see something," Steve replied, taking the papers and adding it to his mess of a kitchen table. Other character sheets were strewn all over, most filled out, but some empty. A couple of books were open on random pages, recognizable images of weapons and monsters visible to anyone who walked by.
"Why does it look like you're studying for a college degree in D&D?" Dustin asked.
Steve looked up at him, eyes blank, mouth in a straight line. "Because I finally got accepted to Indiana State. Go away."
"Fine! I want those sheets back though!" Dustin said as he left Steve to his studying.
Hours must have passed, the light outside turning to dusk before Steve thought to take a break. His head hurt, his vision was blurry, and he didn't feel any closer to understanding a god damn thing.
He thunked his head against the table, letting out pained groan as his head throbbed.
"Are you looking for something or have you decided to finally play with us?" Eddie's voice said directly behind him, making him nearly fall out of his seat. "Shit, sorry. Thought you heard me come in."
Eddie's hands were on Steve's arms, squeezing, centering.
Like he knew exactly what he needed to lose the slight hint of remaining panic left in his chest.
"I was just trying to figure out if there actual dragons in this game or if that was also made up," Steve said, sitting back and putting distance between them. He couldn't breathe when Eddie was touching him, which was often. He was starting to worry about oxygen deprivation to his brain. "Disappointed to find out the dungeons part seems like it's up to the DM."
"The whole thing is pretty made up, Stevie. That's the point," Eddie smirked, but it fell away when Steve turned back to the messy table. "Are you, like, wanting to play?"
And this is why he wanted to keep it a secret. Maybe he shouldn't have had everything spread out in the open like this, but he'd assumed he was safe in his own home. With the door locked. And with Eddie supposedly playing the Hideout tonight.
He looked back at Eddie. "Why are you here?"
"Dustin said something about you not answering the phone after he left hours ago and you seemed pissed off or something," Eddie shrugged. "Just wanted to check on you."
"The phone? It didn't ring." Steve didn't think so anyway. He had admittedly tuned his surroundings out entirely once Dustin was gone. "But it's Tuesday."
"Uh huh. It is Tuesday. How long have you been sitting at this table?"
"Ha. Funny." Steve rolled his eyes. "You play the Hideout Tuesdays. Tuesdays are for Corroded Coffin, Wednesdays are for dinner with Wayne, and Thursdays are Hellfire."
Eddie blinked at him. "Yes, usually that's true. But, wait. Sorry. You have my schedule memorized?"
"I mean, some of it, yeah. The parts where I know you won't be nearby or easily reached."
Steve knew it was ridiculous, but how the hell could he make sure he was safe if he didn't even know what Eddie was doing?
Eddie looked like he wanted to say something else about it, but must have changed his mind. He pulled out the chair next to Steve, turned it towards him, and sat down.
"So you've been studying this stuff for..." Eddie leaned in, eyebrows raised in silent question.
"I dunno. A few weeks. I didn't have most of the sheets until a couple days ago though," Steve gestured towards the papers spread out. "I still don't really get it."
"You've been studying for weeks? Stevie, why didn't you just ask me or any of the kids to help explain it?" Eddie almost sounded hurt. "I've been playing for half my life! And I've been a DM for half of that!"
Truthfully, Steve was trying to learn so he could have conversations with Eddie about the stuff he liked. That was basically lesson number one on how to get someone to like you, and Steve had already tried the music thing and failed.
He just wasn't that into the echo of loud guitars and angry drums.
He couldn't exactly ask Eddie to teach him everything and then turn around and try to use what he taught him to flirt with him. That was lame and embarrassing.
"Steve?" Eddie had his hand on Steve's leg, leaning in further towards Steve. He must've been trying to get Steve's attention while he was lost in thought. "I'm kidding. I mean, I wish you'd said something sooner, but if this is how you get into it, I'm not gonna stop you."
"I just wanted to surprise you."
Steve could hear how pitiful that sounded, could hear the whine in his voice that he wasn't able to pull his plan off. As if Eddie would even care! Eddie was the most easygoing, laidback, chaotic person he'd ever met. He would just be happy to have someone else in his little club.
"Surprise me? For what?"
He was also incredibly slow when it came to feelings.
"Because I want to spend more time with you! Because I like you! Because I want you to like me!" Steve tried not to sound frustrated, but his headache was turning into a real problem, and he was tired, and sick of hiding things. Robin told him to just be honest, so he was. "I wanted to surprise you the next time Hellfire was here and have all this knowledge, but it's hard! I don't even know how you keep up with most of this, let alone all the characters? There's like...at least 800 options for how to use weapons and spells. I can't even remember half the races or classes or whatever. I don't even know if those are the same thing. And I keep getting distracted thinking about how you look when you stand at the end of the table and do one of those stupid accents."
"Are they stupid if they're this distracting?" Eddie was smirking, suddenly more confident than Steve had maybe ever seen him.
"They are stupid. That's why it's distracting. And I'm stupid for letting it get to me!" Steve leaned forward, put his head on Eddie's shoulder. The angle wasn't the best, but he didn't care. "You get to me so bad, Munson."
"You're kinda easy to get to, Harrington." Eddie's lips briefly pressed against the side of Steve's head. "Been waiting for you to catch up."
"What do you mean?" Steve pulled away. "I've been trying to get you to realize for months!"
"You came to one show at the Hideout. I think Robin's been to more shows and she's a lesbian."
"She told you?!"
"Steve, she spilled every secret she's ever had when she kept me company in the hospital. I think I know things you don't even know."
Steve let his head fall down against Eddie's shoulder again. "I should've known you were teaming up."
"I wouldn't call it that. She just wanted to look out for us," Eddie's hand cupped the back of Steve's head. "So what did you learn?"
"Probably nothing useful."
"Well, it's easier to be an active learner. I could use an assistant on Thursday if you want some hands on experience," Eddie's fingers scratched at Steve's scalp, melting his brain and making him feel like he was completely weightless. "If you just wanna watch, that can be arranged too."
"You don't let people watch," Steve mumbled against his shoulder, his weight sagging against Eddie.
"I think I can bend my own rule for my boyfriend, right?" Steve could feel Eddie's heartbeat quickening beneath his ear.
His face felt warm as he realized what Eddie was implying. "Only if your boyfriend can sit next to you."
"I think that can be arranged."
"Oh, and I'd like to trap Dustin's character."
Eddie snorted, kissed Steve's head again. "That can be arranged, too."
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flamingpudding · 1 month
Text
I have a theory!
Duke groaned, his head tumping against his desk on his side of the room. He had heard these words often enough by now to know that his roommate was going to start ranting about something strange but weirdly fascinating again.
The last time his roommate started with that, he went on a rant how all rich people have a secret basement below their homes or some secretly identities with a bulletpoint list of what to look out for as a warning. Which Duke had a hard time not laughing about as he thought about Bruce, who ended up checking a lot of the bulletpoints.
"Danny what is it now?" Duke ended up asking after all. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop his roommate. No one aside from his sister apparently could, Danny even gave her number to Duke as an emergency number in case Danny ever gets so caught up in his own thoughts that even he himself couldn't stop himself anymore. Yeah that was weird to watch Danny trying to stop himself, but it was fascinating that his sister only needed to say his name twice over the speaker.
"Duke hear me out!" Okay of to a good start, so this meant Danny wasn't a hundred percent behind his own theory.
"Red Hood is a ghost or part ghost!"
If Duke had been drinking something, he would have taken a spit take here. For some reasons he had the image of Jason wearing a bed sheet saying the most deadpan 'Boo' in his head when Danny said that. He coughed, trying to hide that amusement. "What makes you say that?"
"You know how you 'saw' that I am a 'Meta'?" Danny ask him in return and Duke nodded still feeling a but weird with how Danny sounded when he refred to himself as Meta but also vividly remembering how his roommate pretty much blinded him on the day he moved into the dorms. "I can kind of see something similar. Like I explained how I have a ghost sense and all that, right?"
"Yea, you did." Duke nodded along, he new his roommate became a Meta through a lab accident. Once Duke had asked him and they had the cleared the air about both of them being Metas, Danny had somewhat opened up a bit on his whole weird family and Duke thought his family wasn't normal but compared to the Fentons the Batfamily might as well could be.
"Well last night I ran into him when I went scrap collecting for my engineering project!"
"DANNY!" Duke couldn't help but scowl. One the school was providing materials, Danny didn't need to do that and two, if he met Red Hood aka Jason that meant Danny wandered far enough to end up near or in Crime Alley! He would need to bug Jason later to find out more about that.
"I know, I know." His roommate waved him off. "Anyway, my ghost sense tingled. Soooo Red Hood got to be a ghost or part ghost, considering he hit a wall instead of phasing through it when he chased me..."
"Danny!" Duke scowled him again, hidding his amusement behind it. Now, he really had to get THAT story out of Jason later, plus he wanted to see if there maybe was possible video proof of Jason running into a wall chasing after Danny.
"Anyway! I got more than just that! Listen here, you know how I told you about some of my parents' inventions..." Danny instead continued finally starting his rant.
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fliesforeyes · 22 days
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reader attending one of Spencer's lectures, kinda smiling to herself because just hours ago the confident man on the podium was between her legs, begging for her to call him a good boy
[i wrote this as reader being a teacher assistant cause im sorry i can't do student x teacher it feels wrong to me]
you sat at his desk, legs crossed and out of sight from the students as spencer reid presented his next topic of discussion. he always looked so gorgeous during his lectures, so fuckable.
that image was solidified with the memory of him just moments before, 20 minutes before class started with prayers running through your head that a student wouldn't come in early for help. spencers head had been buried between your thighs, hand gripping your soft flesh so hard you knew there'd be bruises by tomorrow. he'd whine with the soft tugs you gave his hair, nose pressed against you as he sucked and licked at your clit. his words still rang through your head,
"please- oh please cum for me baby,"
"oh my god you taste so good, so fucking good,"
he'd sat on his knees, you propped on his desk, the one right before you now. you could see the obvious tent in his slacks, you watched as his hips pressed into the air. you knew how hard he was, youd felt him moments ago. but right now you wanted to cum, he could wait.
"please, please can i touch myself?"
"oh please, ive been such a good boy,"
"tell me im good- please ive been so good for you-"
the whine spencer let out when you finally granted him permission to fuck his own fist would live with you forever you believed. he sounded so pretty, and you can still hear a rasp in the way he speaks, he'd really done a number on his voice with how vocal he was for you. a small smile graced your lips, you see the way students look at him, and you took pride in knowing you were the only one he got that desperate for.
and as you sat in those memories, your thighs pressed together where you sat, clit throbbing, waiting for the lecture to end. you were so grateful for the desk in front of you, the one blocking the students view of your lower half, the one you hoped spencer would bend you over once class was dismissed.
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k3n-dyll · 1 month
Text
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Vouyer [Abby A.]
||Men, minors, and ageless DNI
CW: 18+, wlw, a lot of porn - a pinch of plot if you squint and turn your head, subbottom!abby, domtop!reader, Abby getting caught, masturbation, voyeurism cus reader watches her for a hot minute, fingering(A!receiving), tribbing, perv!reader and perv!abby kinda, overstimulation, Abby cries a lil bit
AN: I feel like my brain fizzed out near the end idk. I think I'm cooked. Anyways, hope this doesn't suck ass as much as my brain is telling me it does!
Masterlist. Divider creds DON'T FORGET ABOUT PALESTINE
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ "Just like that- fuck" the words escape her lips, sounding strained and breathless. A thin layer of sweat coats her toned body as she fills herself up to the best of her ability, her thick fingers ramming in and out of her used, sloppy cunt as she chases her orgasm for the third time tonight.
This was not how she had planned for her night to go, but if you could have only seen just how pretty you'd looked; drenched in sweat from head to toe, clothes sticking to every curve of your bruised and bloodied body after such a close call on patrol earlier that day. She'd almost compromised herself just to get a glimpse of you looking like that. Her piercing blue eyes tracked your every movement, once the threat - a pack of infected that had attacked while you were both searching for supplies - was gone.
Or at least she'd thought they were at the time until she felt a pair of gnarled and decaying hands grab onto her shoulders. She killed the thing herself, of course, knocking the stalker off balance with one hard whack of a steel pipe before throwing it onto the ground, forcing the heel of her boot down onto its sprouting head with a splat. Not realizing that it was you she had been distracted by, you gave her a disapproving eye roll and she winced.
It was her own fault you weren't that fond of her, the blonde has ignored you since you first showed up at the WLF a few months back. Even when you became roommates, Abby's demeanor towards you was always cold and disinterested. It was stupid but she figured it was best. She was unable to even think about saying a word to you without her palms sweating. She just knew she'd fuck up and stumble over her words, making herself look weak in front of you and she couldn't have that.
When Abby learned that you were going to spend part of your night drinking with Manny, Owen, and Nora, she took the opportunity to lie.
" 'm tired. Think I'm gonna just go to bed" she had mumbled, feigning exhaustion, going so far as to force a yawn out before she walked back to the room. Alone.
The girl didn't make it five minutes without touching herself, getting comfortable in bed, and shoving her hand down her underwear. Dumbly, she figured that maybe if she just got off once, she could get the image of you out of her brain.
That was how she got where she is now. Naked, driving her middle and ring fingers as deep as she can get them, pumping them in and out of her cunt, her other hand joining as she rubs feverishly over her sensitive clit. The scene is downright pornographic, the sloshing sounds coming from Abby's body as she fucks herself stupid on her own fingers, her jaw slack, your name spilling from her soft lips in sinful prayer.
She wants it to be you so bad, it's almost pathetic.
She can't bring herself to stop - she just knows it'd feel so much better if your hands replaced her own and the rest of her body seems to agree with that thought. So much so that every time she tries to stop or give herself a break that ache comes back full force, a heartbeat forming between her thick thighs. It gets so bad that she considers walking to your side of the room and grabbing one of your t-shirts because at this point your scent could get her there.
"Jus' one more, one more, baby pleasepleaseplease - holy shit"
That third orgasm hits Abby like a truck, her begging eventually becoming a mess of incoherent babbling under her breath, her body twitching as she comes down from her high. Again. And again, it isn't enough. She can't take her mind off of just how fucking good you would look on top of her - god - the mere thought of having your pretty pussy slotted up against hers is enough to make her crave more.
Abby lets out a deep sigh and plops her head back down onto the pillow underneath her as she tries to catch her breath, thinking maybe she should just try to sleep it off. Despite her better judgement though, she finds herself with the pads of her fingers back on her puffy, pulsing clit, stroking herself in languid circular motions.
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You stood in the entryway of your room, peeking your head in the door to watch as Abby fucking Anderson of all people split herself on her fingers, letting out the prettiest moans as she chases her release. You knew that you should probably just close the door and quietly sneak away. Go back to the mess hall with your group, maybe pretend you forgot something, and then conveniently "lose track of time" while you were there so that your roommate could finish her little "session".
You really were going to leave. As a matter of fact, you were halfway through closing the door when you heard something that made you stop in your tracks. It was Abby.
And she was moaning your name.
The sound was unmistakable as it was one of the only words you were able to fully recognize through her stupor of bated breaths and blissed-out whining. The frigid, unstoppable force of a soldier that had been ignoring your existence for months was actually begging for you, crying out your name over and over again as she fucked herself.
You found yourself biting your lip at the sound, and before you knew it, you were tip-toeing all the way into your shared room. You practically held your breath as you closed the door behind you, freezing completely once it clicked shut and lightly punching the air in silent celebration once you had confirmed you managed to sneak in undetected.
It was all so perverted, and yet you couldn't stop staring
You were leaning up against the wall beside the door, trying your best to be quiet and resist the urge to shove your hand down your own pants as you watched Abby's naked body convulse under her fingers when she came, eyes trailing over her body as she rode out her high.
It became clear pretty quickly that she'd been at this for a while, unable to satisfy herself completely. You watched as she began to start herself up again, her hand making its way back down between her thighs, her legs twitching still from her previous climax. From what you can see of her face, she seems a bit frustrated, her eyebrows knotted together in almost anger as she lazily works her fingers on her clit. She looks and sounds so precious that, before you can fully think it through, you speak.
"Still not finished?"
Abby nearly falls out of her bed with how quickly she shoots upward, covering herself with her blanket, a deep red blush fanning out along her freckled cheeks. It doesn't take much for her to realize that you heard her, your expression telling her everything she needed to know.
"I was, uh-..."
"Yeah, I heard...and saw" you interrupt, making your way over to the blonde's bed, unable to contain your amusement at the situation as your eyes trail over her.
" 'S this why you've been avoiding me, baby?"
She just stares at you, not fully knowing why she can't bring herself to do anything - to deny your suspicion, yell at you, or do something that would make her stop feeling so vulnerable right now. But she just looks up at you, mouth slightly agape.
"You could have just asked me for some help with that if you wanted it, y'know." you continue, gently gripping her under her chin to make her look at you.
Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, Abby considers pulling away from you. Getting mad and reasserting her dominance or something but you both know that isn't going to happen. You catch a glimpse of her fingers, glistening and wrinkly from how long she's been trying to get herself off, and your suspicions are confirmed which only emboldens you to go further. You lean down a bit closer, your face so close to hers that your noses nearly touch.
"You can't satisfy yourself no matter how hard you try, can you?"
Abby squirms a little but she shakes her head slightly in response, eyes breaking contact with yours but your hand never releases her jaw. You've never seen her look this exposed before - not only in terms of her nakedness but she just looked so vulnerable and small right now, despite her actual size.
You press a kiss to her lips, and she practically melts into you, allowing you to lay her back down on the mattress and crawl on top of her, your hand caught in her loosened braid. The other hand wanders down between her legs, eager to feel the sticky mess that shes turned herself into over the thought of you.
The sweet little whines she gives you as you circle your fingers along her clit are so unfamiliar coming from her but oh so welcome as opposed to her usual stoicism. You almost feel bad for the fact that shes had to wait for so long to finally get that release shes in desperate need of. A release that can only seem to be triggered by your hand.
If Abby wasn't already embarrassed for having been caught, she was sure as hell embarrassed with how quickly you got her to cum on your fingers. You've barely gotten the chance to get them inside of her before her irises roll back, head thrown onto the pillow beneath her as her body twitches in ecstasy.
"S-sorry, I-"
You see her begin to apologize but she's cut off completely at the sight of you sucking her essence off of your fingers, her words being yanked right from her mouth as her arousal comes back with a force. She knows she's way too sensitive to do anything else, but the thought of saying no to you right now doesnt even cross her mind as an option once you start pulling off your clothes.
It's all she can do to keep her hands to herself while you strip. Those vivid blue eyes are glued to your body, enamored by the perfection being uncovered in front of her. You place yourself back on top of her, hiking her leg up over your shoulder and lowering yourself until her cunt is pressed flush against your own. You let out a simultaneous groan at the feeling, grinding yourself down onto her with little regard for how sensitive she is.
"Hnmn- fuck" Abby's hips buck upward involuntarily, her body telling her that she's had enough, but it feels too good to stop.
She couldn't tell you it was too much if she wanted to anyway, every attempted word coming out of her mouth as incoherent whines and half-finished syllables. You watch her face intently as a few tears begin to make their way down her reddened cheeks and it only makes you pick up the pace, pressing wet kisses against the side of her calf as your clit perfectly ruts against hers with each thrust.
"You've wanted this so fuckin' bad, haven't you?" You tease her through gritted teeth, the words spilling out without much thought.
"Want me to fuck you till you cant fuckin breathe, hm?"
All that comes out of Abby in response are breathless "yes's" all jumbled into one word followed desperate little whines, her fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips as if she's afraid you'll stop if she lets go.
"G'na cu- ohmygod" she tries to warn but the poor girl can barely think. You hear her loud and clear though, making a point to apply a bit more pressure, the sloppy noises coming from your bodies moving against one another in tandem bringing you close as well.
The orgasm that results sends electricity through your body, pleasure that's only heightened by the uncontained scream that pulls from Abby's throat when she cums with you, drenching your inner thighs even more. She doesn't even seem to care if anyone hears her, too fucked out to even try to keep her mouth shut. Mercifully, you take the responsibility away from her, crashing your lips onto hers and muffling the sound in the hard, wet kiss.
The euphoria lingers even after you've slowed to a stop, heavy, labored breathing and Abby's soft whimpers the only sounds that occupy the room. A low chuckle escapes you as you pepper soft kisses along her cheeks, your thumb accompanying to wipe up her pretty tears.
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AN: One thing I suck at doing is thinking of a way to fuckin close these
reblogs appreciated☆requests open
Almost forgot, taglist: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery, @ikoinsblog
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walpu · 28 days
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walp
hear me out on this
Aventurine's bodyguard (reader), but they are used as leverage against Aven during the 2.1 Trailblaze Quest, if Aven tries to leave the Dreamscape or reveals anything of Sunday's scheme, Sunday murders Reader and makes it seem like a freak accident 😀😀
Sunday when I catch you Sunday
I liked this request the moment I saw it so I rushed to do it as soon as I got enough time to work on it 😭
you being used against Aventurine as his weak spot during the 2.1 trailblaze quest
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notes - gn!reader, 2.1 spoilers, angst but nothing bad happens to you, hopeful at the end, sunday is most likely ooc since it's written before 2.2, no beta
Sunday doesn't make a direct threat. It's a very subtle hint, a small warning. Yet it's obvious enough for Aventurine to understand the meaning behind Sunday's words immediately. How can he not when it concerns you?
There's a visible anger on his face when he glares at Sunday.
"You wouldn't dare, you wing-headed bastard. Do you think the IPC is stupid enough to believe that the death of my personal bodyguard tgat accompany me everywhere is a coincidence? Do you think I'll let it slide?!"
Oh, he's seething. Such raw emotions, such obvious worry, such obvious fear. Sunday knew he would get him good but that? Truly intriguing.
But how can he not feel that way? How can he play it cool, cover his fear and shield himself with short on-line answers?
This time he can't hide how much his hands are shaking.
Sunday is quick to remind Aventurine that in his current pitiful state, 17 hours to live and all, he hardly can do anything.
He also graciously reminds Aven that nothing will happen to you as long as he does his part.
Aventurine is such a mess after that conversation. Ratio tries to calm him down a bit by rationalizing the situation. Surely Sunday is bluffing. The Family, no matter how questionable they seem, are not murderers. Plus, surely Aventurine knows his own bodyguard well enough to know that you're not easy to kill. Many has tried and yet here you are, still alive and well.
But how can Aventurine just brush it off when it's you who may be in danger?
That what he was afraid of the whole time. That he'll lose you like he has lost everyone else. That your blood will be on his hands.
He asks Ratio to look after you and to escort you to safety if something happens. The promise doesn't calm him down but Ratio is a reliable and smart person. So he chooses to trust him, no matter how hard it is. After all, Aven doesn't have much choice.
When the two of you reunite, you can immediately see that he's shaken. He tries to hide his pitiful state from you, not wanting you to know that his time is running out. He wants to warn you instead, to tell you that you may be in danger. But he knows you won't take it seriously and instead would insist on taking care of him and protecting him.
He comes up with some lies (aeons, he hates lying to you of all people) and asks you to start your own investigation. To go back to the real world and to team up with Topaz and Jade.
It takes some time to convince you but eventually you reluctantly agree. He sees how much you hate leaving him like this and it's both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.
Aven is an even bigger mess now than he was in the game. He tries to tell himself that you're okay, that Ratio will accompany you to the real world and Topaz will look after you once you're there.
But how can he be sure? How? His "future" self asks him this mockingly, pointing out that you're smart, that you'll immediately understand that he has deliberately sent you away to keep you from something.
No matter how msny times he tells this "future self" to shut up, he knows he's right. So he can only pray that he'll be able to deal with the Family before you get yourself in danger.
Image you showing up during the final act just to see him threatening to detonate the Stellaron. Him trying to continue the "show" despite the ache in his heart. You, knowing he's bluffing but being unable to stop this insanity.
After the events of 2.1, he seeks you out as soon as he returns to the real world. He needs to know that you're alive, that you're safe. Even if you're angry with him now, even if you may not forgive him (of course you will he's just insecure like that), he needs to know you're fine.
So imagine his relief when you (safe, unarmed, alive) embrace him and hold him tightly, so overwhelmingly happy he's back.
image his reaction to finding out that you're alive and well and sunday has presumably kicked the bucket 💀
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