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#I’m embarrassed to think what it might look like but whatever
hiraethwrote · 9 hours
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no shot - satoru gojo (& suguru geto)
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✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader (main), suguru geto x f!reader ✧ summary: captivated by a mystery girl at a party, satoru is adamant in pursuing you. turns out is not as easy as it seems, and it doesnt help that his friend is also interested, and might have the upper hand. ✧ cw: some cursing, alcohol consumption, intoxication, sexual tension, teasing, lowkey dual pov, just fun ngl ✧ word count: 4.5k
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“Who’s that?” Satoru asked, nudging his friend with his elbow, bringing his attention to the girl who was dancing on a table across the room.
“Hm? Oh, her. Shoko invited her,” Suguru answered, as Satoru couldn’t keep is eyes off this mystery girl.
“How come Shoko never told us she had friends like that?” He was in awe by this girl, as she was clearly the life of the party. Satoru took a quick glance at Suguru to see that he too was somewhat entranced by the girl, but tried his best not to make it too obvious.
“Think it’s just you. I’ve met her briefly before.” With that, Suguru captured Satoru’s full attention, a small, victorious smirk plastered on his face at the frustration he knew he was causing his friend.
“Unfair,” he whined. “How come Shoko introduced you?”
“Probably because I wouldn’t embarrass her,” Suguru snickered, which he quickly regretted. Just as he was about to take a swig from his drink, Satoru bumped into his elbow, causing him to spill down his shirt. “Asshole.”
“Ops,” Satoru said sweetly, Suguru staring daggers at him, desperately trying to wipe his shirt. As his chuckle trailed off, he turned his attention back to the girl.
She was still on top of the table, moving her body to the rhythm, a drink in her hand. There was something so captivating about her, and he wasn’t alone to think so. Around the table, she had an audience of admirers. Satoru found himself intrigued by how she was entirely in control, giving them just enough attention to keep them focused on her.
The next second, some random guy climbed up on the table and joined her, placing his hands on her hips. Turning around to face him, there was a mischievous grin on her lips. Slowly, she traced her fingers up his chest before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulled him down closer to whisper something in his ear. Whatever she said, it seemed to shatter his ego as his eager smile evaporated before he shamefully climbed down from the table.
“You know her name?” Satoru asked, leaning back against the wall.
“I might.”
“You’re not going to tell me?” A smile of disbelief on Satoru’s face.
“Why would I?” He could hear the smirk in Suguru’s voice. “You spilled my drink. Besides, you’re competition.”
Satoru instantly let out a taunting scoff. “That’s almost cute. We both know I’m the one going home with her.” It bothered him that Suguru seemed completely unfazed by his comment, the smirk still lingering on his lips as he took another swig of his drink.
“I feel tension,” Shoko cooed as she came stumbling over from the kitchen. “Are you guys bickering again?”
“It’s actually serious business,” Satoru said as he took a deep breath, straightening his posture. “Suguru actually thinks he stands a chance against me.” Shoko turns to look at Suguru in hopes of getting some context, only to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.
“And this is about?”
“A girl,” Suguru answered simply. Shoko’s eyebrows raised in surprise, looking between the two boys.
“I don’t see why it would matter. You two never go for the same girl.”
“That’s until your friend came into the picture,” Satoru continued to explain, turning his head towards the girl. She had now climbed down from the table, and he saw her down a shot before slamming the glass down on the table in front of her.
“My friend-“ Shoko trailed off in confusion and she followed his gaze to see who he was looking at. A loud cackle escaped her once she saw the girl they were all staring at. “Ain’t happening.”
“What did I say!” Satoru cheered, teasing Suguru who just rolled his eyes, pretending it wasn’t getting to him.
“No, no-“ she laughed. “I mean, neither of you stand a chance.” They both narrowed their eyebrows at her.
“That’s ridiculous, look at me.” A huge grin flashed over Satoru’s face, showing of his charm. Over Shoko’s shoulder, he saw Suguru keeping a close eye on the mystery girl, still trying to make it look casual.
“I’m surprised you’re into her, Suguru,” she said excitedly, turning towards the raven haired boy. A small, cheeky smile grew on his lips.
“Don’t encourage him!” Satoru interrupted. He looked like a child, nearly stomping his feet with frustration, most likely caused by the alcohol in his system.
She shakes her head, the excitement quickly disappearing as she brings her focus back to the conversation. “Besides the point. Just believe me when I say, neither of you are going to get with her.”
“Can you at least tell me her name?”
“Don’t tell him. It’s fun to watch him squirm,” Suguru interjected.
“You’re on your own, Satoru,” she said with a devilish grin. She hooked her arm with Suguru’s and pulled him after her towards the balcony, probably for a cigarette, leaving Satoru standing alone.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
It hadn’t taken Shoko a lot of convincing to get you to join her for the evening. You never shied away from a party, as it had a tendency to do wonders for your confidence. When drunk, you felt like you lost some of your inhabitants, just to the point where you were able to offer more of yourself than usual.
Not to mention, it wasn’t just the alcohol that got you drunk, but also the atmosphere. Tons of people just enjoying the music, talking to each other and letting the alcohol flow. As long as you didn’t take it too far, you had no reason to complain.
Now you found yourself on top of a table, dancing and singing along to the music blasting through the house. Around the table were some desperate fellas, trying to get your attention. Every once in a while you shot them a look and a smile, which kept them around to feed your ego a little longer.
It was just cheap enjoyment, as being perceived as attractive by sleazy men who’d sleep with anything that let them, wasn’t something to brag about. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t like having their eyes on you.
Your enjoyment was somewhat haltered when you felt a pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around. The man who met you was relatively handsome, you’d admit. His dark hair complimenting his sharp features. But as his eyes traveled your body, you saw a look in them that you didn’t appreciate.
Meeting his gaze again, you teased him with a smile and a quick glance at his lips. You trailed your fingers up his chest, feeling his heart beat rapidly, before grabbing his black t-shirt to pull him down. His ear was right by your lips, as you whispered “brave of you to come up here and join me, as if you have a chance.” When you pulled away, the lust in his look had evaporated and had been replaced by an expression of shear embarrassment.
He climbed down from the table, shrinking as he walked away with his pride wounded. And yet again, your confidence was boosted. Something about rejecting desperate guys, who might have stood a chance if they were just acting decent, filled you with some sorts of joy.
Pulling your attention back to the party, one of your other girl friends grabbed your hand and pulled you down from the table before shoving a full shot glass into your hand. She didn’t have to ask you twice, downing the shot in one go and slamming it down on the table, a loud cheer escaping the two of you as you did so.
Eagerly, you grabbed her hand and pulled her into the crowd to dance, planing to just spend the rest of the evening with your friends. However, that plan was quickly ruined when you crashed right into what seemed to be a firm chest and a pair of strong hands grabbed your arms to steady you. A small lump began to grow inside you when you saw you’re friend give a big-eyed stare at whoever was standing behind you, swallowing the lump she had in her own throat.
“I’ll leave you two,” she said with a drunk giggle and she was gone before you had the opportunity to keep her from leaving. With a sigh, you turned around, preparing yourself to meet whatever creep was trying to get with you next.
But when you turned around, you were met by a tall figure. Your eyes traveled up his body until you met his face. Whoever he was, he was devastatingly beautiful, wearing a flattering smile, his snow white hair styled simply to hang just slightly over his eyes. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed him in the crowd during the evening. With his tall stature, he did kind of stick out in the crowd.
“Careful there,” he spoke, his voice playful with the facial expression to match it.
“Sorry,” you said loudly so he could hear you. “Didn’t see you.”
Smoothly he leaned forward towards your ear. “What’s your name?” He began to pull away so he could look at you, but you quickly grabbed his shoulder to keep him on your level so you wouldn’t have to talk so loudly. But in the corner of your eye, you saw a cheeky smirk creep on his face when your hand touched him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would actually,” he said before pulling away for real this time, his eyes staring directly into yours. It was so evident what his intentions were. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink, thank you.” You’re smile was sweet as sugar, but it seemed he saw right through your act, licking his teeth at your response.
“I don’t doubt that.” Your eyes lingered on his face as he took a quick glance around the room. You were truly mesmerised by his beauty, but it seemed like his ego didn’t need your confirmation so you weren’t going to let him know. It seemed the universe was working against you, as someone bumped straight into you causing you to be pressed up against the stranger once again. You were suddenly thankful the lights were dimmed, so he wouldn’t be able to see how your cheeks were tinted light pink.
He suddenly grabbed your hand and started escorting you through the crowd, making the path easy for you. Eventually, you felt a sense of relief the moment you were reintroduced to some fresh air, making you realise how stuffed it was inside.
“Now, isn’t this better? Now we can actually talk.” He towered over you, skillfully playing into the impression he wanted to give of.
“Seeing you took me hostage out here,” you sighed as you jumped up on the porch banister.
“You’re feisty, aren’t you?” The smirk never left his face. You felt one make its way to the corner of your mouth as well, but it was one out of self satisfactory.
“You’d be surprised it really sieves out the worst of them.” It was true. From your experience, if you played too hard to get, to the point where the reward would never be worth the work, it seemed to keep the biggest sleazes away at least.
“I’m Gojo. Satoru Gojo.” He surprised you when he actually extended his hand for you to shake. You politely shook it, as the realisation of who he was dawned on you.
“Oh, you’re Shoko and Suguru’s friend.” He couldn’t help but get annoyed at your comment, as he imagined Suguru’s satisfied smile if he’d heard what you said.
He wasn’t going to let that get to him. “So you’ve heard of me,” confidence oozing from his voice.
“Your name might have come up at one point,” you shrugged simply. That was a lie. He’d been brought up in conversation on multiple occasions, but you were under no circumstances going to let him know that.
“Funny you say that, because Shoko has never mentioned you.” You couldn’t help roll your eyes at his lame attempt at teasing you.
“I think that might be more because of you rather than me.”
It surprised you to see how fragile his ego really was. Sure, he was beyond confident and he rarely let it waver. Nonetheless, his cocky front took a hit at every comment you threw at him, and he worked hard to keep up his appearance. It gave you a reason to believe that his ego was more an act than anything else. It was clear he was an extroverted individual who enjoyed the attention he received, but there was something deeper lurking just beneath the surface. And as much as you hated to admit it, that secret depth he was hiding made you want to crack through that exterior.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said, glossing over your comment. He took one step closer to you, your eyes never breaking contact as he did.
“Y/n,” you spoke softly, letting your eyes flicker to his lips. He repeated your name back to you, smooth as silk, creating a reaction within you that you had no control over. It sounded so beautiful when he said it so passionately, like he already knew you. “Is this how you get the girls? All natural charm, pretending like you’re genuinely interested?”
He scoffed at you, the smirk still present. “Who says I’m pretending?” He continued to inch closer to you.
“What?” A somewhat patronising chuckle escaped you. “You telling me a guy like you puts in real efforts with strangers at parties?”
“A guy like me? Meaning what?”
“Cocky.” Your statement was only confirmed by his chuckle. It absolutely frustrated you that you actively had to fight against his charm that came so easy to him.
Whenever you attended parties, you never planned to go home with anyone. Quite the opposite, if you were honest. After a few one night stands here and there, you’d quickly become aware it wasn’t for you. The only part of that process you found entertaining was some sort of confirmation that you were desirable. The guys who usually tried to get with you had the same amount of charisma as a rock, so turning them away was a piece of cake.
But Gojo wasn’t like your run-of-the-mill guy hitting on you at a party. Where most guys gave up, he stood proud. His natural charm was slowly but surely chipping away at your cold front, and you hated it. You craved the control, but it seemed he might have the stronger hand.
“Well, I’d like to say I have something to cocky about.”
“Narcissism isn’t attractive.”
“So you say, but you’re still sitting here.” He got you there. In no way was he forcing himself on you or demanding anything from you. It was unspoken that you were allowed to leave at any point if you wanted to, but you couldn’t get yourself to jump down from the railing and leave him standing.
“Maybe I just enjoy the attention,” you simply shrugged.
“That I know.” You squinted your eyes at him, signalling for him to continue his statement. “When you were dancing, you loved having them look at you. You fed on it.”
All you did was smile, biting you bottom lip. You never flirted like this, and if your friends had seen you now, they would never let you hear the end of it. How you usually took pride in being unobtainable, but now you were suddenly folding for some random guy at a party. Not to mention, one of Shoko’s closest friends.
You’d been so hypnotised by him that you hadn’t noticed he had approached you to the point where he had gracefully positioned himself between your legs, his hands resting on each side of you. Your heart was pounding against your chest and he continued to lean in closer. Having him so close to you definitely made your mind run wild with ideas. The party-girl in you was so tempted to hook your arm around his neck to pull him closer and connect your lips, let him have his way with you. But you didn’t want him to win so easily.
Just as he was about to kiss you, you turned your head to the side and he winced in disappointment. You chuckled drunkenly as he straightened his posture, but remaining between your legs and now resting his hands on your thighs.
“You’re a tease.” He tried to act offended, but you had a sneaking suspicion he enjoyed the chase as much as you did.
“I’m the tease? Do I have to remind you who is pursuing who here?” You felt his hands give you a soft squeeze, forcing you to focus on keeping your breath steady. His touch was so tender, like he ached for it, but careful not to hurt you.
“Still, you’re the one who begs for attention.” He tried to lean in closer again, ever the arrogant smile on his lips. Carefully, with just the lightest touch, you place your fingertips on his soft lips to stop him again.
“I never beg for it,” you said rather matter-of-factly. “It’s not my fault people give it so willingly.”
If it was even possible, he wanted you more now than he did earlier. At first, it was just your aura that had attracted him. Radiating assertiveness, something he’d always found intriguing. It wasn’t a secret he was spoiled in several arenas of his life, used to people just handing him stuff. So the second someone who didn’t fall at his feet came along, he knew he had to know more.
Then he’d gotten the opportunity to take a look at you up close, and that won him over completely. You were nothing less of stunning, he thought. Your eyes sparkled with a sense of adventure, and your smile was warm and kind. Not to mention the way you carried yourself, so sure of who you were.
“Have you ever been told you’re quite persistent?”
“Nah, not really. I never have to be.” You let out a snort that quickly turned into a small chuckle, your fingers now resting carefully on his chest. If you focused your attention to the touch, you swore you could feel his heart beating incredibly fast.
“You’re truly a character.” It might have sounded like an insult, but it wasn’t meant as one. Luckily, it didn’t seem he took offence.
His shoulders rose quickly in a small shrug. “I’m just used to getting what I want.”
“If what you want is a quick fuck, I’m a hundred percent sure there’s tons of girls inside willing to give it to you without all the hassle.” He just slowly shook his head ‘no’ as you spoke, his hand finding its way to your neck. Carefully, he placed his thumb under your jawline and slowly tilted your head backwards for better access.
Fucking hell, the things he was doing to you. Once again he was leaning in closer, ever so smug. But this time, you were doing nothing to stop him. Finally you were surrendering yourself to him, preparing to lose the battle that had gone unsaid.
You’d closed your eyes, your knees slightly clenching at his hips with anticipation. So ready for his lips to finally collide against yours, but you were startled when Gojo jerked away.
Opening your eyes, Gojo was no wearing an irritated face as a strong hand was placed on his shoulder.
“Is this man bothering you, miss?” A groan could be heard from Gojo at the presence of his best friend. Well— now former best friend.
Reluctantly Gojo took a respectable step back, but still staying close to you. Once he was no longer so dangerously close to you, you felt some tension leave your body with a deep breath you were unaware you had been holding.
“Suguru,” you beamed, jumping down from the railing and quickly embracing him in a genuine hug, before nonchalantly positioning yourself beside Gojo again. “It’s great to see you again.”
Your excitement didn’t go unchecked by Gojo, who was scowling at Suguru. The two boys shared a knowing look, and Satoru had a strong desire to wipe off that contempt smile Suguru was wearing. Both you and Suguru knew each other a lot better than you’d previously let on, which bothered him more than it should have. He had no idea to what degree you knew each other, if it was simply a friendly coffee or if you’d slept together. Either way, Suguru was having the time of his life torturing his friend.
“Same to you. You look as beautiful as always.”
“You don’t look too shabby yourself.”
“You two seem to be getting along nicely.” You turned your head to look at Gojo, who had turned a lot more tense than he was mere moments ago.
Your competitive side was more than pleased by Suguru’s arrival, saving you from the agonising future of waking up besides Gojo the next morning and admitting defeat. But it would be a complete and utter fabrication to say you weren’t disappointed.
“Pfft, ‘getting along’ might be taking it too far.” You had managed to regain some of the feisty personality, as Gojo had put it. You didn’t have to look at him to know he had turned his attention to you again, his stare drilling into you.
“You’re quite the liar,” Gojo chuckled, tossing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer. His movements were a lot more sharp and drastic, unlike before Suguru joined you. It dawned upon you, as you saw them look at each other, saying a whole lot without speaking a word.
You’re evening had somehow circled back to where it started, by having your confidence boosted. They were fighting over you, the looks between them saying everything. Maybe you should just be thankful Suguru joined after all. You had to press your lips together in a thin line to choke back the laughter bubbling up.
You rolled your eyes at Gojo’s comment, but in reality you were finding the whole interaction quite enjoyable. “Maybe just enough to bring him along to coffee next time,” you said, knowingly fuelling the fire. Gojo’s body tensed up even more against you. Suguru shifted his focus from his friend to you, making eye contact.
The intensity of his look told you he hadn’t come over just to piss off his friend, but also because he himself genuinely wanted to pursue you as well. You had to break the eye contact as your cheeks began to heat, taking a deep breath through your nose. Unlike Gojo, Suguru was calm and laidback. It made him attractive in a completely different way than Gojo, the kind of attractive that snuck up on you.
Gojo’s confidence was built on a fundament of knowing what people thought of him, aware that people found him attractive. Whereas Suguru’s was rooted in the fact that he didn’t care what people thought of him. And if he had been into you the period you’d known each other and respectfully not made a move, just made him more appealing to you.
“Coffee, huh?” The look Gojo gave his friend only seemed to amuse him more. “Briefly, my ass,” he whispered under his breath. only you being able to hear it.
How had you ended up here? You’d had a perfect plan of your evening. Dance, drink, flirt innocently, and generally have a good time. Then these two guys had come along and turned the evening upside down. They’d proven themselves to not be like the guys that usually pursued you, which had you losing you’re wit. You’d never imagined that happening at a house party like this.
“Just a suggestion,” you shrugged. As you did, Gojo’s arm left your shoulders and traveled down to the small of your back, leaving a trail of fire as he did. Suguru let his stoic attitude slip for a split second, his eyes flickering to Gojo’s arm as he moved it.
"We were kind of in the middle of something here." Finally Satoru had been pushed to the point where he wanted to shoo Suguru away, hoping his sudden appearance hadn't spoiled his chances entirely. He still felt as there was a chance, as he felt your body react to his genle touch against his back.
"Sorry about that. I just felt it would have been rude of me not to at least say hi to her while she was here." He's good, Satoru thought to himself. Suguru had such a comfortable charm and he was milking it to his advantage. He seemed so genuinely apologetic for interrupting. Satoru didn't buy it for a second.
"I'm so glad you did!" You jumped in, trying to distract yourself from Gojo's hand that was slowly rubbing circles on your back.
"What the hell is going on here?" A shrieking voice interrupted you, making all three of you flinch before finding the source of the voice. Shoko came stomping over towards you, making Gojo quickly retreat his hand. "You guys are unbelievable!"
"Shoko! Where have you been?" The tone in Gojo's voice was entirely different, and was now playful and childish. One couldn't imagine the scene that had taken place just minutes earlier listening to him now.
"Drop the act, Satoru!" Her anger did seem real, so you were just glad it wasn't directed at you. "Give her some room to breathe!" Forcefully she grabbed your arm and pulled you to stand beside her.
"Shoko-" Suguru tried to intervene.
"Shush, you're supposed to be the behaved one!" You were the only one having a good time, finding Shoko's protectiveness cute. The two guys, on the other hand, had both lost their confidence. She turns to look at you. "The girls were gathering for pictures when we couldn't do it without you."
You smiled sweetly at her before turning to the guys again. "Nice meeting you, Gojo." Your eyes gave him a flirtatious look, teasing him that he might have gotten lucky if you hadn't been interrupted. You turned to Suguru and gave him the same look. "And I'll see you around." You turned away from them, before you and Shoko entered the house again.
"Do not tell me that Satoru actually managed to make you fold?" She said through gritted teeth.
"No..." you said carefully, her head turning to fully look at you. "He might have been able to if Suguru hadn't interrupted."
"You're dissapointing me, y/n," she sighed dramatically. "So much for being unobtainable."
"I didn't do anything! My reputation is still intact!" You were desperately trying to defend yourself. "Don't tell any of the girls please!" She squinted at you, a smirk growing on her lips.
"Do a shot with me, and your secret's safe!"
"Deal!"
Back on the porch, Satoru and Suguru had been left in the dust, neither able to get lucky. "I swear to god, Suguru-" Satoru sighed.
Suguru simply shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. He tried to fight back a satisfied smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought it wouldn't be a problem I came over. You seemed so sure she was going home with you." Satoru instantly flicked Suguru's forehead in petty frustration.
"Idiot."
⋆⭒˚。⋆
a/n: okay, i really struggled to find a way to end this, and it shows lol. I hate the ending, but for the most part i like it. but i wanted to try something different. even before this account, when ive written in my sparetime, its usually angst so wanted to challenge myself by something different. hope you like it <3 likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated
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onceuponapuffin · 14 hours
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Fanatic Intervention Part 9!!
Beginning || Previous || Next
*****************
You pound your way to the nearest bar, where everyone had agreed to meet. The three of them are standing around, talking over glasses of wine. Your hands are in fists, your nails digging into your palms as you approach. They acknowledge you as you enter their field of vision, but you say nothing. Instead, you beeline for Aziraphale, put your arms around him, and hang on for dear life. Sometimes you just need to hug an angel.
There’s a pause where Anathema says something about your aura, and then Aziraphale hugs you back.
Dear Reader, I’m not sure if it ever happened in your life, but for this Puffin there came a time when it was made very clear that wanting to be held or wanting to lean on another person in public was unacceptable (and, in fact, embarrassing) once you reached a certain age. And yet, we as humans are social creatures. The need to be held is a very normal response, especially after something particularly upsetting happens (like having the sanctity of washroom privacy violated, for example). Perhaps you’re not the kind of person who, out of nowhere, feels the desire to be held, but perhaps you know someone who is. And so, I would like to impress upon you the incredible difference it makes, the immeasurable relief it brings, to know that you have someone with you who will hold you back without question or comment. Just hold you, and wait.
Aziraphale makes it clear he intends to do just that.
“Take your time, dear,” he says gently. And so you do.
After a moment, the clink of a glass next to you makes you look up. Someone has given you a glass of the same wine everyone else has. You pull away and take a sip, feeling much calmer and very grateful.
“Thanks,” You say.
“Anytime,” Aziraphale replies.
“What happened?” Anathema asks.
Thus, you recount how Metatron trapped you in the washroom until he had said his peace. By the time you finish, there are three very angry faces around you. You feel validated enough to take another, much larger, sip of the wine. Aziraphale is the first to speak.
“Well for starters, I invite you to stay in my bookshop however long you like. Pet indeed! You are a help, yes, but you are a guest, and certainly not disposable, whatever he says.”
“And,” Crowley adds, “From what you said, Aziraphale and I can get you home whenever you want anyway. Probably, I mean. No dUbIOus motives involved, at least.”
Anathema seems to be thinking. After another few seconds, she asks:
“Why did you take the coffee?”
You all look at her, surprised.
“Well I mean,” she continues, “If the Metatron wants to know, he probably has a reason. If you tell us, maybe we can figure it out for ourselves and find a way around it.”
“Or they could just not tell him,” Crowley suggests with snark. “Then it doesn’t matter.”
“I mean, it might,” Anathema counters, “We don’t know that it doesn’t.”
“I took it because of the Coffee Theory,” You say with a shrug. It’s not like it’s a big deal. “But I mean, I don’t know why that would matter to him.”
“Well,” Anathema says, “That might depend on what the Coffee Theory is.”
“Well, it’s the idea that the Metatron did something to that coffee he was going to give Aziraphale. To, like, make Aziraphale trust him, or listen to him or whatever, so that he would go back to Heaven.” You pause. “There’s also an interpretation of it where it was a metaphor like ‘take my offer or face death.’ But most people think about the first one, and that’s the one that was in my brain when I did it. There aren’t a lot of people who actually believe it. I mean, not anymore, anyway.”
“So you think the Metatron drugged Aziraphale’s coffee?” Anathema raises an eyebrow. “And you drank it, yes? So...did he?”
“No,” You reply, “It was exactly what it was supposed to be. An oat milk latte with almond syrup. And I didn’t think he actually messed with it. I just wasn’t willing to take the chance, that’s all.”
Crowley’s face scrunches. “And you think he might need to know that for some reason?” He looks pointedly at Anathema.
“He might,” She gives a thoughtful hum. “I’ll think about it. I might ask the Cards later.”
-----------
The wait for boarding didn’t feel so long after that. As you board, you notice how spacious First Class is. Aziraphale and Crowley sit in the seats ahead of you and Anathema, with Aziraphale in the window seat. You notice Crowley casually trying to stick his legs out into the aisle and wonder vaguely whether it’s because he needs the space, or to try and trip the flight attendants. Both? Probably both. Okay, definitely both, you note, as a stewardess almost falls face-first into the aisle. Aziraphale gently swats at Crowley in reprimand, but you can tell it’s half-hearted and wholly-fond.
Your only trouble comes when you need to use the washroom, but Anathema, ever clever and aura-observant, suggests to go with you so that you can knock if anything goes wrong. Thankfully, nothing does, and you both return to your seats.
“You know,” Anathema says, leaning forward, “I just overheard the strangest thing. It seems that all of the normal airline food on this plane has gone missing. All that they have to serve is the first-class food.”
“Wait,” You say, holding back a laugh, “So everyone on this flight gets to eat the fancy, chef-prepared, gourmet meals?”
Crowley doesn’t hold back his laugh. “Oh, the big bosses won’t like that!”
“You two wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” Anathema asks suspiciously. You notice she’s smiling while she says it.
“Psh!” Crowley waves away the thought. “Why would I? Doesn’t matter to me either way.”
“Honestly, Miss Device,” Aziraphale adds, “I have no idea why you immediately accuse us of something that seems so clearly to be a mere...clerical error.”
Ah-ha! Culprit found. Clerical error your arse.
“You know,” You sigh, “It really is no wonder why Crowley loves you so much.”
“Ngk,” says Crowley. Aziraphale responds with a pleased-sounding hum. You relax, and notice between the seats that Aziraphale places his hand on top of Crowley’s and leaves it there.
They like holding hands – your insides scream.
--------
When you disembark from the plane, you hear all the other passengers around you complimenting the flight attendants on the excellent food and promising to leave excellent reviews online. You keep your laughter as quiet as you can. Aziraphale’s little prank is going to cause the airline issues for YEARS. Crowley must be so proud.
The speed and ease with which you clear customs and baggage claim is probably because you’re traveling with two supernatural entities. In no time at all, you’re outside of the airport flagging down a cab. Crowley opens the door with enthusiasm and outright glee.
“After you, Angel,” he says, “You think 90 miles an hour in London is bad, I can’t wait for you to see this!”
Dear Reader, I don’t know if you have ever been to New York City, but I assure you that Crowley’s driving has nothing on the NYC cabbies. Aziraphale spends the entire drive trying to hold on to something and taking deep breaths as the cab violently jerks to a stop millimeters from the car in front. You suggest he close his eyes. He does. It doesn’t seem to help.
-------
The taxi lets you out in front of The Ritz. Because of course you’re staying at The Ritz. Aziraphale goes to check in while Crowley tells Anathema he needs the washroom, and mutters to you that he wants to empty all the soap dispensers. You try so hard to hold in your laughter that it comes out your nose anyway. The demon flashes you a cheeky grin before disappearing around the corner. Anathema looks at you.
“Probably been a while since he had a fresh audience,” You say to her. She chuckles.
“And you’re so obliging too. No doubt he’s having a great time with all this.”
“Hey, Anathema,” You begin uncertainly, “How...I mean...I’m just worried about...things. How are we going to find Jesus anyway? I just...I don’t really have anymore information to give. I don’t even know if he’s going to be a baby or an adult this time.”
“Hm...” Anathema thinks for a minute, “Well, I’m going to try and get some readings, see if I can get some kind of direction for us to go in. It’s a big country, but what I’m hoping is that it will sort of work like dowsing.”
“Dowsing? Like looking for water with sticks?”
“Sort of. In a nutshell, you pay attention to the vibrations in the Earth, and the closer you get, the stronger the vibrations become. It makes sense to think that Jesus would make pretty noticeable vibrations. That’s my working hypothesis anyway.”
You nod. That will do for now. Aziraphale and Crowley both return, with the demon wiping his hands on his trousers, and the four of you take the elevator to your room.
The Royal Suite.
“Are...you….serious??” Anathema asks. Honestly, you’re too stunned looking around the enormous suite with four bedrooms to say anything. It’s bigger than most houses. You take out your phone and start taking pictures.
“Well, if we’re going to stay at The Ritz,” Aziraphale says cheerfully, pronouncing the capital letters, “Best to do it Properly.”
“But this is ridiculous!”
Aziraphale isn’t paying attention anymore. He’s gone to tell Crowley not to draw mustaches on the expensive artwork.
“Unlimited resources,” You say to her, “Make for expensive taste.”
“No, kidding,” she sighs, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m gonna need some help with these two.”
Ha, You think to yourself, I knew it.
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤
Beginning || Previous || Next
^ If you want to see JUST how ridiculous the royal suite is.
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rosicheeks · 28 days
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🫶
#I’m getting hit with a massive wave of nostalgia now#I remember staying up ALL NIGHT working on changing my theme#I used to play in the html and add things#I looooved adding falling snow during the winter#I remember when having a music player at the top or somewhere on your blog was super popular#but ended up being incredibly annoying#cause half of the people put it on autoplay so when you entered someone’s blog you would get blown away by music#I remember having a whole different page for an about me#I wonder if I still have that up on mine#broooo I haven’t looked at my blog page on a laptop or anything in fucking AGES#I’m embarrassed to think what it might look like but whatever#most of us are using mobile anyway#or at least in my mind we are hahaha#so when I first started a blog I think I was in middle school??? like 12 or 13 hahahaha good times#my first url was SO CRINGE and I’m not going to say it cause I’m 😬😬😬😬😬 when I think about it#and then I slowly got more of a following and started doing smoke videos#I miss that community too :(#making smoke videos and tagging a bunch of stoner mutuals to ‘pass the bong/joint’#and then they would make a video and tag me#awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhh#I haven’t logged into that tumblr in AGES omg#but then I decided to post content and I didn’t want to post it on my original blog in case it got flagged or anything#so I made this blog#and here we are 🥰#but man I have SO many memories from my last blog#i made a friend in Belgium and we sent presents back and forth#I think only once but maybe twice#I still have the bracelet she sent me#can’t believe I’ve been on tumblr for most of my life lmao#but I’ve met SO many amazing people that I would have never have met
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tariah23 · 1 month
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I rly don’t see how ppl be 20+ shipping kids anymore tbh… like, it’s so rampant and I don’t see the appeal to it anymore being as tho I’m in my late 20’s.
#I’m grown….. it always baffles me to see it like man I don’t care I don’t find joy in it anymore since I’m not a teenager#I just look at them and think they’re like my fake son… daughter nephew niece whatever lol#give me the struggling and mentally fucked up 20+ year old give me those middle age bitches man if I’m going to like a ship now anyway#like i don’t care about the romance between kids man it sucks that this is such a huge thing in most fandom spaces#not that I participate in said spaces since ppl are annoying and embarrassing#also very nasty#sns is diff tho like that’s a whole other thing 🪽#sns is just a classic it’s legendary it transcends space and time it it-#I’m so glad that jjk is full of adults tho lmfaoo#one of Gege’s only W’s… especially impressive for a shounen#i like jjk outside of the goiji pairings too like I just genuinely enjoy it despite how awful it is now lol#again#I do think that ppl need to learn how to become more comfortable with enjoying media outside of shipping tho#like there’s nothing wrong with it obviously but I’m talking more like how tons of ppl only get into a new series for the sole purpose#of shipping instead of engaging with said media and the story that it’s trying to tell…#this is why fanon and wild insane hc’s usually get out of control too to the point where those who might be interested in checking out#a series might be deterred because they don’t even know what the show is about because the only stuff that ppl see about the thing is ship#stuff and like discourse#and the behavior of the fans…#these ppl be 30+ arguing with teenagers man it’s crazy to me#I just think there needs to be a balance lol#like still go crazy. Have fun and all but you get it#but anyway. with all that being said! Goiji stays winning in my heart 🚶🏾‍♀️#rambling
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comfymoth · 4 months
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On that note, what were your thoughts on Coraline? Specially on that scene where the beldam counts down from 3 as she transforms into her true form.
Because to me, it made me realize that I love horror movies and their concepts, and what I didn't like of other specific transformation scenes was that they were... too real to me? Like they made me think about "if people could really be turned into animals how horrible would it be to leave every single thing you know about life behind and never get to do the human things you like and nobody knowing that something unnatural happened to you, they'd just see a weird dog or cow or chicken" and that was too terrifying of a thought to me
that specific scene didn’t really bother me the same way! i thought it was scary, sure, but that’s just because the beldam looks scary. a monster turning into a monster because they’ve always been one didn’t make me queasy the way other stuff did. she’s choosing to change shapes, no one else is making her, and it’s one she seems to like!
like you said, a part of it for me was being so upset at the idea of losing your original life and not being able to go back, being separated from people or just not being recognized at all. i really didn’t like the idea that it might be painful, or embarrassing, or that you could have absolutely no control over what was happening. the loss of control was HUGE for me.
in a weird way that’s probably what drew little kid me to werewolves though. because they do have to go through all of that, but in the end they can change back. and they don’t have to be alone because of it, you know, wolves are such social animals, it doesn’t have to be completely isolating. and also wolves are just fucking cool!!! so it was a way to explore all of that discomfort without it being so horribly overwhelming. it was cathartic!
and now i’m just Like This. so. haha. oops?
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seravphs · 11 months
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I started reading blue lock guys I promise I’m diversifying my portfolio
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daisynik7 · 6 months
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A Helping Hand
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Pairing: Nanami x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.3k
cw: next-door neighbor Nanami, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, cream pie, sex without a condom, mention of sex toys, use of pet names (sweetheart), just horny things lol 
Summary: You’re so completely insatiable that you’re going a tad bit insane. You enlist the aid of your next-door neighbor Nanami, who you know is more than willing to help.
Author’s Note: idk, just feeling a little feral for him, that’s all. this is a silly one, sorry. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
part 2 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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You stare wide-eyed up at the ceiling of your bedroom, legs apart, the blankets shrugged off to the side. You’re naked from the waist-down, panties tossed to the floor with your vibrator hanging loosely in your grip. You’ve been going at it for nearly half an hour now, trying to chase a high that you just can’t seem to reach on your own. Sure, you’re doing fine. That’s just it, though. It’s just fine. Nothing spectacular, nothing mind-blowing. Tonight, you’re desperate to be filled, aching to be stuffed. Stimulation on your clit alone isn’t enough to satiate your appetite. 
You. Need. Cock.
And you think you know exactly where to find it. 
Nanami is your next-door neighbor. He’s quiet, even a bit shy at times. You’ve always found him attractive. Aside from his obvious good looks, he’s been kind to you since you met him when you moved in months ago. You’ve shared several meals together after you gave him fresh herbs and cherry tomatoes from your garden. That seemed to break the ice between you. Nothing more has ever happened, though there’s a palpable tension that surrounds you whenever you’re together, almost like you’re both willing to cross the line from neighbors to lovers, but too scared to do so. Subtle glances, lingering touches, suggestive comments. 
If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.
Whatever you need, I’ll be here.
I’m here for you if you need me.
Tonight, you’re in heat, daring to march right into his apartment and ask him for a huge favor. This might go horribly wrong, and maybe you’ll end up moving out from sheer embarrassment, but you know what? The fantasy of taking his big cock deep in your pussy is enough to convince you that it’s worth a shot. 
You wrap yourself in a robe, not bothering to put on any underwear, still wet from your previous orgasms. With three gentle knocks on his door, your heart starts to race, your instincts willing you to walk right back into your apartment and forget about this ridiculous idea. It’s too late, however. He answers, surprised to see you. You greet him with a weak smile, suddenly shy in his presence. “Hello, Nanami. Sorry to bother you.”
“You’re not,” he replies, stepping aside to let you in. “Are you alright?”
He shuts the door closed and you don’t have the nerve to look him in the eye. You were so confident just moments ago, and now look at you. Trembling and flustered. You cross your arms over your chest, unsure what to say. 
You feel him right behind you now, his body heat radiating towards you, close enough that if either of you moved even the slightest bit, you’d be touching. His breath is warm on your ear. “Are you alright?” he repeats, genuine concern in his voice. He’s always been so sweet to you. So nice. So helpful. Maybe he’d be okay with doing this for you, just this once. 
You turn to face him, cheeks hot, saliva gathering in your mouth. Swallowing thickly, you ask, “Can you help me?” It almost comes out as a whimper, a whine. So needy and so desperate for his touch.
His eyes drop to your waist, focused on the loose knot holding your robe together. His fingers tug gently at it, pulling it apart, revealing your half-naked body to him. You gasp softly, surprised and aroused by his sudden action. “Finally,” is all he mutters before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and greedy, just like you are, tongue pushing against yours, eager for a taste of you. You moan into his mouth, pawing at his chest, bunching his shirt between your fists. He leads you to the couch, sitting down and hoisting you onto his lap, sliding the robe off your body along with the rest of your clothes. You’re completely bare for him now, spread out on his lap. He looks down between you, watching your arousal seep into his grey sweatpants. 
“So wet,” he groans. “How many times did you come tonight?” He grabs your chin, pulling you in to kiss you fiercely. 
“Three,” you answer, licking at his lips. 
He smiles against you, fingers trailing your body until they’re pressed to your puffy clit. “That sounds about right. I heard you through the walls, fucking yourself silly.”
“You did?” you huff, grinding on his palm, yearning for friction. 
He nods. “Oh yes. I heard every filthy moan from this pretty mouth of yours. Been waiting for you to finally give in and ask me for help.” He strokes your clit between his fingers, teasing your entrance to collect your cum, smearing it on your bud.
“Oh fuck,” you whine, rocking your hips against him. It feels so fucking good, but it’s still not enough. 
He knows exactly what you need. With his free hand, he shoves his pants down his legs, releasing his hard cock. You marvel at how pretty it is in his fist, stroking it and tapping it on your clit. You lift yourself off his lap to sink down onto his length, moaning wantonly until he’s all the way inside. Staying still, he kisses you sloppily, squeezing your ass in both his hands. 
“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, nuzzling his nose to yours. “You wanted this cock, and now you have it. Show me how badly you need it.” He leans back against the couch, resting his palms behind his head, watching you like a spectator. “Ride me until I fill you up.”
Too horny to protest (and why would you anyways?), you obey, stroking his cock at a slow pace until you can adjust to his massive size. Once it becomes a fluid motion, you speed up, slapping your ass against his thighs. He’s deep in your womb now, so deep you feel it in your stomach. This is precisely the high you’ve been chasing all night, and it only makes it sweeter knowing it’s with him. Your handsome, nice, and clearly well-endowed neighbor, Nanami Kento. 
He's can’t stand not touching you any longer. His hands return to your waist, bouncing you on his lap like a rag doll, yielding to his every thrust. “You needed my cock today, huh? Needed my dick to pound this tight pussy of yours. Your stupid little toys weren’t enough, were they?”
You shake your head erratically, so close now. “Need you, Kento. Needed this fat cock inside me.”
He growls at the sound of his name from your mouth. “Fuck, I needed this too. Been needing it for a while now.” He latches his lips around your nipples, sucking on them until they’re plump between his lips. His thumb caresses your sensitive clit, massaging gentle circles around it. Suddenly, everything is too much. You’re gushing for him, coating his cock in your cream, all messy and obscene. Soon, he comes too, stuffing you full of his seed. Just when you think it’s over, he pulls out to lay you flat on the couch, spreading your legs wide, a naughty grin on his face before he dives in, lapping at your combined arousal. 
You wake up with Nanami’s name spilling out of your mouth. Disoriented, you look around, finding yourself back in your own bed, alone. It was all a dream. A fucking dream (literally). Disappointed and still horny, you sigh, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, calling it quits for the night. 
To your surprise, there’s a knock on your door. When you go to answer it, Nanami stands before you, an obvious blush on his face and an even bigger bulge in his grey sweatpants. He steps towards you, a shy smile on his face. “I heard you calling my name. Sounds like you could use a helping hand.” 
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— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ pt.2
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
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summary: after lord eros' silly little trick, you're now forced to deal with the consequences— more specifically, in the form of a lovestruck luke castellan.
warnings: tons of corny pick-up lines
genre: still very much a romcom
part 1
note: thank you, thank you! all your support for pt.1 means the world to me! really, i couldn't be more grateful 𖹭 i hope you think this brings justice to the first half 𖹭
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
“What do you mean you can’t do anything?” You suppressed the urge to shriek, settling for gritted emphasis instead. You crossed your arms across your chest, your foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floorboards of the Big House.
“Exactly what it means.” Chiron responded, looking at Luke with more amusement rather than concern.
“But he's under a spell,” You reasoned in disbelief. You might have spilled over your words while you explained the rundown to Chiron, but they were coherent enough to at least get that point across.
“It’ll wear off eventually, kid.” Mr. D downed an entire can of diet soda in one go before procuring another one in his outstretched hand. He snickered at the intent puppy eyes Luke was giving you. “That type of love magic won’t last long. Best to let it run its course than tamper with it.”
“But–” You wanted to argue before Mr. D stopped you. He pushed his feet up on his desk.
“Look, at least this proves that your boyfriend actually loves you.” He gave you a pointed look. What does that even mean? “Now, leave.”
You huffed indignantly, but decided against speaking further. You begrudgingly turned around and pulled Luke up by his arm, guiding him towards the narrow hallway that led to the foyer.
“When did I become your boyfriend?” Luke huddled closer to you, whispering as you made your way to the front door.
“You didn’t.” You told him plainly. You shook your head. “You aren’t.”
“Yet.” He responded, his tone a bit mischievous but his gaze sure and determined.
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
You leaned your elbows against the table of the crowded Arts and Crafts Center, your chin resting against the pad of your thumbs. You studied Luke with a contemplating gaze.
“I hit you with one of Eros’ arrows.” You told him. This was hardly the proper place to have this conversation, but the rest of the Aphrodite cabin practically hauled you to the building to begin Valentinkering? Valenmaking? (whatever in Tartarus they decided to call it this year).
“Well, I guess you could say I’ve been lovestruck by you.” He said, giving you a stupid little wink as he mirrored your posture.
“Gods, Luke. That was corny as hell.” You flushed almost as crimson as the container of beads in front of you. “Also, I’m serious.”
“And who said I wasn’t?” He challenged. He smirked against his fist, wiggling his eyebrows.
You snorted. “The fact that you’re under some valentine voodoo makes all your intentions questionable.”
“You wound me.” He feigned offense, pouting as he clutched at the fabric of his shirt above his chest. “To be fair, my train of thought has always been questionable when it comes to you.”
“On a more serious note, I do remember the whole arrow thing.” He told you, his lips pursed. “I don’t blame you; it was a complete accident. It just feels… odd.”
“Again: unimpressed.” You buried your face into your hands, the second hand embarrassment of his poor attempt at flirting was overwhelmingly potent. Besides, it was difficult not to react when he looked at you so intently, like he was trying to memorize every minute detail of you.
Your ears perked up, worried. “You feel odd?”
“No,” He shook his head. His expression was perplexed, maybe a bit incredulous too. “That’s the thing. I feel completely normal.”
“That is weird.” You agree. You wrap the string in between your fingers around his wrist, measuring it to his size. "Maybe it was just a prank?"
“No. If anything, it’s more like I can’t hold my tongue.” He shrugs. “I can’t help but say what I think.”
“Would that explain the flirting?” You tease. All cheeky, but with a hint of curiosity hidden beneath the humor.
He leaned in, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You stare at him, tilting your head. He returns your gaze just as intensely, brown eyes fixed onto yours. He raises an eyebrow as if to question your silence. There was something magnetic between the two of you, pulsing and pulling you closer— maybe not physically, but definitely in other ways unbeknownst to you.
“Woah!” Percy exclaimed with an accusatory edge to his tone, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and his palms raised as if to distance himself from you. “Respect for the children, maybe? Consider shielding my young impressionable eyes from this trauma?”
“Percy!” You squeaked rather uncharacteristically. Annabeth trailed behind closely, pushing a leg over the bench to sit beside you. You smiled at her, tugging her closer by placing your arm around her shoulders.
“Annabeth,” Luke called. “Trade places with me.”
Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “No.”
“Come on.” He persisted. He leaned in, almost conspiratorial. “You know, the Stoll brothers have an extensive archive, and I think I may have heard word of them having that Rem Kolhaas book you've been raving about."
Annabeth stopped to consider the offer before ultimately conceding. She stood up from her seat. “That’s a big bribe for a small favor.”
“Know what prices to pay to win your battles.” Luke muttered as he sidled up next to you, grinning triumphantly. His fingers played with the hem of your weathered camp shirt. “Sacrifices aren’t much in the face of victory.”
“Did you just use a bad battle strategy as a flirting tactic?” Annabeth scrunched her nose in distaste. “Gross.”
"Done." You finish tying up the ends, letting the red bracelet dangle in Luke's line of vision.
"It looks so pretty, baby." He compliments you, holding out his wrist. You proudly put it on for him. "Not as pretty as you though."
You scoff. Both Annabeth and Percy imitate gagging noises.
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
The only time you ever truly left each other’s side were the few moments of reprieve before dinner where you’d returned to your cabins. The older campers insisted on making the meal a whole affair, complete with a romantic candlelit set-up and a string quartet to serenade everyone. Chiron decided to indulge the request and sent everyone back to freshen up.
“Have fun with your boyfriend?”
“Christ!” You jumped in your spot, turning around to see Eros laying on one of the bunks. His arms were tucked underneath his head, his smile suggestive and knowing.
“Lord Eros,” You bowed.
“That is not your shade.” He tutted, pointing to the tinted gloss in your hand. “Too summery for your complexion this time of year. Go for the pink one. He’ll go berserk.”
“Thanks.” You muttered, facing your vanity once more. You dabbed the product against your lips. You sighed as you inspected your make-up. Once more, he was right.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He shifted to his side, looking at you expectantly.
“Yeah, I guess.” You grumbled. You looked down, pretending to look for something in your drawer so he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up your cheeks. Luke refused to leave your side the entire day— his fingers hooked around the belt hoops of your skirt in one way or another. He made a whole spectacle of it too: his big brown eyes tender, his wistful sighs, his shy grins, his playful winks.
“Good.” He clapped his hands. “Gods, the boy has had a crush on you for forever, you know. It was torture watching him pine over you. I can only take so much longing.”
You froze, staring at him through the mirror. He stared back at you.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” He sounded shocked; he was shocked. “You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, how could you not know?! That's like our thing!”
“Well, he hasn’t been obvious, has he?” You rebutted, flicking your wrist.
“Sis, I don’t know what reality you’re living in,” He sat up on the bed, “But that boy wouldn’t know subtle even if it hit him in the face.”
“But surely it’s just because of the arrows.” You rationalized.
“Nuh uh.” He wiggles a finger in the air to deny the accusation. “The arrows you used just accentuate pre-existing feelings. Not make new ones.”
A knock interrupts your conversation. You hurry to fix your hair, brushing it out of the way. Your hands begin to shake with giddy excitement. You feel your heart thrum strongly against your chest, almost wanting to burst out from the confines of your body and find its other half in Luke. Your smile eventually becomes hard to contain.
Eros beams at you, his pupils dilating into hearts again like it did this morning. He opens the door for you and pushes you out. “Have fun with lover boy. Mother sends her regards.”
Luke spins around at the sound of the squeaky hinges. He can't help but pull a hand out of his pocket, his palm lightly grazing his chest. He whistles. “Call me favored by the gods because I think I’ve just entered Elysium.”
“You’ve been with me the whole day.” You responded pointedly, breathless and in love.
“And yet you still manage to take my breath away.” He gasps when you rush into him, wrapping your arms around his nape.
“This is new.” He looks down at you, your noses touching. His hands fall naturally to your hips, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of your dress. “But definitely welcome.”
You gaze into his eyes before pressing your lips against his. They felt pleasant and pliant against your own. You tugged Luke closer, your fingers twirling through his curls. His hands squeezed your skin. The kiss burned sweetly, almost as if it’s been waiting in anticipation to happen.
When you both separate for air, Luke gently grabs your hands from behind him. He wraps his fists around yours, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. “I’ve been waiting so long for that.”
“So I’ve been told.” You hum. “I figured I might take the first step.”
“Don’t worry.” He presses another kiss against your lips, short and sweet. “I promise to match your pace the rest of the way.”
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺
taglist: @ace-spades-1 @patitotodd @fandomthings-blog @bugcuti3 @liv1104 @mindflay3r
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teaboot · 2 months
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Feels weird leaving an ask, like I’m walking up to a sage on a mountain and asking advice but that sage is likely just some guy in his pj’s eating cheese. Anyway any advice for how to be okay with being perceived? It’s hard to not feel like everything I do whilst in someone eyeline is embarrassing
I'm actually eating Pierogi in the bathtub right now so this is perfect
Okay first off, currently working my way out of the wet paper bag that is Social Anxiety that once had me agoraphobic and melting down on my way to buy groceries, just so you know what you're working with
Care about how you dress, but not in like, a fashion way. Just a "I like how I feel in this shirt" sort of way. And not so much, "I look good in these pants so I will wear them to be perceived Correctly", as, "I feel great in these house slippers and when I feel good I'm confident and when I'm confident I give less of a shit what the haters might think". Wear what feels good. Cut your hair and do your face and nails whatever way feels good. Appearance is secondary to vibes.
Lean into the funny. I waited 10 minutes in line for a coffee order that had already been set out for me this morning, and when the barista noticed, we both had a good laugh. Five years ago that would have killed me. Now I'm glad these poor workers will have a funny story over their bland ass shift. When I was in retail that would have been adorable and hilarious! And so, my goofemup is a gift. I am full of blessings
Get louder and watch as nothing bad happens. Take up more space and watch as nobody yells at you. Wear brighter or skimpier or janglier outfits and bask I the glory that is "Nobody gives a shit except the nice strangers who give me compliments". Marvel at how far you can push the envelope before anyone so much as comments on it. This will free you.
Say yes to terrifying opportunities to be Seen. Karaoke, dance, improv. And if you can't do it sincerely, embody a caricature of yourself. It's terrifying and it sucks eternally and forever and ever and ever like hellfire until suddenly it doesn't. Then have fun.
Be honest. Not unkind, but blunt if you need to. "I'm having a bad time". "This kinda sucks for me". "I know you hate this song but you can deal with these last 30 seconds because I need it to live". Mostly people will think it's a joke but respect it anyway. God bless
Please keep in mind that I am flying by the seat of my pants here and this is just stuff that's worked for me. I am still a nervous disaster crying into the void. Good luck space cowboy
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months
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I never really made a request before so that's my first time wish u like it
So I was thinking about some fluff drunk y/n acting all stupid and flirty to bakugo who doesn't like drinking around her because he knows that they both won't have someone to send them home if they got drunk
[Secretly caring]
*Whispering* he also gets a bit touchy if she let's him
*friends to lovers thing*
Wish my explanation was good enough and can't wait for the next chapter of FBRC <3
OUUU this is such a cute idea ! i’m so happy, this is my first request as well so we both have a milestone LMAOOO ! i tried to honour your request as best i could ! <3 (OU and AAAAA im glad you like FBRC ! i hope you’ll keep reading !)
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bakugou katsuki considers himself a mature, mostly rational person.
despite what others, media outlets and even his own damn friends might say, katsuki thinks he’s really not that bad.
sure, he’s flipped off a camera man, cursed out another one…and another one—but who doesn’t have a bad day once in a while ?
he’s changed since he was a kid, he doesn’t get set off as easy anymore most days. he’s learned to be more patient, a little more levelheaded. that’s at least something his shitty friends will tell you.
he’s changed from when he was a kid, he’s grown now. he’s a man.
but right now katsuki feels like smashing your head in with a brick.
"kah-su-kiiiiiiiii... m'sleeppyy" you whine, leaning against his shoulder.
katsuki doesn't regret a lot, but he sure as hell regrets accepting to go out for drinks with you. again. you had said something about 'celebrating getting a day off after a while'.
"never should've accepted goin' out with yer ass." he laments grumpily. despite the fact he says this every single time he goes out to drink with you, he never seems to learn his lesson. he never seems to want to learn his lesson.
truth is, katsuki has grown a lot since his UA days but one thing he hasn't outgrown is his giant rampant crush on you. it's embarrassing how tightly you've got him wrapped around your finger, how easily you can get him to do whatever you want as long as you just asked him to.
he complains and grumbles about it but he'll never, ever, say no to you.
which is how he always, always, ends up in this predicament.
katsuki snaps out of his thoughts when he hears you sniffle.
"y-ya don't like.." you sniffle again " ya don't like hangin' out wif me ?"
fuck.
immediatly it's like a switch had been flipped. he moves his arm so he can wrap it around you and have you lean against his chest. you always got emotional when you were a little too drunk, that usually meant it was time to go.
"no—no, s'not that. i—" he sucks in a breath, cheeks heating up despite the fact he knows there's barely any chance you'll remember this. usually he'd remind you of your embarrassing drunk moments as revenge for making him take you home and taking care of your ass because you were too drunk to, but he'll refrain from mentioning this part.
"i do like hangin' out with you, dummy. quit talkin' stupid." he shushes you softly, unconsciously rubbing your arm comfortingly.
"b-but you said, you regretted goin' out wit me" you pout. fuck, you're cute. katsuki has to fight off the urge to lean down and kiss it away.
"i say a lot of stuff i don't always mean, sweets. you know that." he replies " 'f i didn't wanna hang out with ya, i wouldn't."
you hum pensively, leaning against his shoulder as you think. you smell like something sweet, he can't quite track down what it is, but it's making him dizzy. you've always had the ability to make him lose focus. you're so close and you smell so good and katsuki feels like he's drunk.
"mmyeah...guess that's true" you hiccup. you raise your hand up to trace his jaw line with your finger and he refuses to look at you but he can hear the cheeky little smile in your voice "you like hanging out with me, right ? that's why you always say yes when i ask !
he scoffs "i only say yes 'cuz i know you'd just end up goin' out anyway, you'd get yourself in trouble." he's stiff as a fucking board, he feels like if he moves a little too much he'll say something he shouldn't.
"no i wouldn't" you argue, then you reach your whole hand up to squeeze his cheeks "but even if i did, i know you'd come to save me, mr. dynamight" you giggle
he's so sick of you. katsuki's been in plenty of situations where he was this close to death, but he's certain you're gonna be the death of him.
"time for bed" he grumbles. he lifts you by your shoulders slightly until you can properly stand on your feet "m'getting you home, yer too drunk to be up right now" he asserts, chuckling when you pout at him when he flicks your forehead
"you're not the boss o' me ! 'm completely—oops" you trip forward but katsuki catches you with ease, he's always there to.
you look up at him innocently and he looks down at you with one eyebrow raised "you were sayin' ?" he sassed.
you roll your eyes at him and push off him slightly to stand more comfortably, you stick your tongue out at him. " i said—i'm fine..but if you wanna take me home that badly, i guess i'll allow it" you shrug. katsuki squints then shakes his head, smiling to himself. you catch him and giggle, he can't cover up his chuckle fast enough. you must look stupid to the other people in the bar just sitting there giggling at each other, he realizes. then he remembers he could honestly not give enough of a shit about what these other drunk losers thought, the only drunk loser he cared about was right here in his arms.
right where you belonged.
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you're out like a light by the time katsuki's brought you back to your apartment, but he doesn't mind, he'd expected it anyway. he carries you like a sack of potatoes to your floor. he's glad he'd managed to grab your keys before you fell asleep, having to wrestle the keys from you and risk you getting cranky at him doesn't sound all that nice right now.
he helps you take off your shoes and he's extremely grateful you're just lucid enough to change by yourself. he helps you clean up and brush your teeth, then carries you to bed even though he knows damn well you could walk just fine. not before getting you to down a glass of water.
you're annoying when you're drunk and sleepy, you're whiny and everything is too much work for you. katsuki grumbles right along with you, calling you a pain in the ass, then promptly taking it back when he sees you tearing up again. he grumbles and complains but he knows he wouldn't let anyone else do it for him. not only because he's sure whoever it is wouldn't even be able to do this half as well as he does, but also because despite his better judgement, despite the fact you piss him off to no bounds, you're his to take care of. and he'd be damned if he let anyone else take care of what's his.
so you whine, and he complains, but he truly wouldn't have it any other way.
you insist on wanting him to stay with you and he knows he probably shouldn't. he likes you too much to just casually stay here with you, he knows he won't be able to sleep and he's just going to keep staring at your lashes fluttering as you dream. but you pout at him and plead him so sweetly, he really can't say no to you.
he likes you too much.
he steals one of your hoodies and a pair of sweatpants (he technically isn't stealing—since they're both his to begin with) and climbs into bed with you. you immediatly latch onto him, nuzzling into his shoulder before thanking him.
"for what ?" he mutters sleepily, slowly wrapping his arms around you.
"for.." you interrupt yourself with a yawn, he chuckles "for always takin' care of me..you're the best."
if you were more sober, he'd simply answer with a cocky "tell me something i don't know." but you're not and katsuki's already too far gone, so he squeezes your waist in appreciation then responds " i'm always gonna take care of you."
he's suprised by how soft and sappy he sounds but you suprise him even more when you lean up slightly to press a feather light kiss to the underside of his jaw and whisper a sweet little "love you."
he lays there for a good long while without response, you don't mind because you chose that exact moment to fall asleep. he lays there and he's sure he won't be able to fall asleep now. fuck you for knocking out and leaving him like this, he thinks. he's trying not to give himself false hope, maybe you meant it platonically. he keeps trying and he keeps thinking all night but he's still impossibly giddy.
he was contemplating not telling you anything about last night, but he can't help himself. he's nervous—god, he's so fucking nervous when you wake up while he's getting comfy in your kitchen like it was his, making breakfast. you look groggy and sleepy and hungover, but to him, you still look adorable.
when you're awake enough, munching away at the breakfast he's made, he tells you about last night and his heart slams against his chest when he mentions what you had told him.
though, when he sees how you choke on a piece of your toast, and how flustered you look, like a deer in headlights, his heart beats hard against his ribcage for a completely different reason.
the next time you go out for drinks, it's to celebrate the start of your relationship.
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AAA first request done ! hope you liked this anon <3 if you guys have any request pleassseee lemme know !
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roosterbox · 5 months
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Had this random thinky thought the other day.
Pre-S4 Steddie are dating. Have been for a decent amount of time. They haven’t told everyone, but a few people know (Robin, Dustin). The thing, though, is that Wayne doesn’t know. Oh, he knows that Eddie has a boyfriend. He’s seen Eddie’s eyes light up like stars when he starts talking about this boy. About how beautiful he is. About how strong he is. And, most often, about how kind he is. After the buildup he’s been given, Wayne is pretty positive there’s no way for this mystery boy to live up to Eddie’s description. Especially with how loveblind his nephew is. But if the way Eddie lights up at the mere thought of him is any indication, he must be something special.
“Invite him over for dinner sometime, son. I’m dyin’ to meet this guy.”
Eddie agrees. And plans are made. But for whatever reason, said plans fall through. And keep falling through.
But then.
The events of S4 happen.
Steve manages to save Eddie, like he should have done in canon (but I digress). They end up in the hospital, and someone gets in touch with Wayne, who shows up almost immediately. And who does he see at his unconscious (severely injured) nephew’s bedside but Steve fucking Harrington.
Now I’m not saying that Wayne assumes the absolute worst upon seeing ‘King Steve’ Harrington in that room (the worst being that Steve has something to do with Eddie’s condition), but he does make his assumptions based on what he knows and remembers about Steve’s parents (especially his dad). Said assumptions are… not great.
He basically kicks Steve out. And Steve just… goes. Robin tries to protest on his behalf, but Steve tells her it’s okay. “Eddie needs him now,” he says.
Eddie doesn’t wake up for several days. Any time Wayne isn’t with him, Steve sneaks in. And gets kicked out again when Wayne comes back. Wayne, for his part, is getting more and more exasperated with his dedication.
But then Eddie wakes up, finally. Wayne and Dustin are there when he does. The latter leaves to give Eddie and Wayne their privacy for a tearful reunion, but he also calls Steve. A little while later, Steve shows up. He and Wayne lock eyes, and Wayne bristles a bit. He’s straightening up, preparing to kick him out yet again, before Eddie turns. And his entire face lights up in a brilliant smile. His eyes sparkle like twin stars.
“Stevie!” He says, imbuing the name with more emotion than Wayne ever expected.
Steve almost trips over his own feet to get to Eddie’s bedside, where he takes Eddie’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. He looks like he might cry.
And Wayne suddenly understands everything.
He lets them talk for a moment. They’ve seemingly forgotten he’s even there. There are soft loving affirmations, sweet names, and maybe even a kiss or two, before he clears his throat. The boys spring apart (Steve springs, at least), but don’t let go of each other’s hands.
“I really wish we could have gotten to meet each other over dinner instead, boys,” he says, gruff as always.
Steve looks nervous, but Eddie’s just embarrassed.
“Uhm,” Steve starts.
Wayne gently cuts him off. “I think you and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot.” And that wrong foot is entirely on me, he thinks.
Eddie looks between the two of them, confused.
“That’s okay,” Steve is quick to say. “You were just-“
Wayne cuts him off again, moving to the other side of the bed, hand outstretched.
“Wayne Munson.”
Steve hesitates, exchanging a glance with Eddie (who’s still terribly confused), before taking Wayne’s hand with his free one, shaking it.
“Steve Harrington,” he says as if Wayne didn’t recognize him on sight a few days prior.
“It’s nice to meet you Steve.” Wayne smiles. “Nice to finally see for myself the kid who makes Eddie smile like that.”
There are further discussions to be had. Eddie is angry (and a little heartbroken) to discover what’s been going on while he slept (“YOU KICKED HIM OUT HOW MANY TIMES???”), but in the end, it all works out. Eddie’s name is cleared. He (and everyone else!) makes a full and complete recovery (plus a few gnarly scars). And Wayne finally, finally, gets to sit down to dinner with his nephew, and his nephew’s boyfriend.
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sugarlywhispers · 2 months
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☆– a.n; here's a lil piece for valentine's day, even tho it was yesterday <3
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Your first kiss with Bakugou was nothing like you expected. You thought, because of his fiery personality, that it was going to be fireworks and heat and passion all over. 
How wrong you were.
Bakugou Katsuki was a massive bundle of nerves, completely clumsy even in his walk–and Jesus, seeing that big mass of muscles trip on his own feet each two or three steps in your walk home from your date, gave you several heart attacks thinking he might kiss the ground at any minute. 
You were not expecting this at all. He was so confident when it came to his job, to his friends, to any situation he was in. Except you. Least to say, it took him for-fucking-ever to ask you out, and when he did, he stumbled upon his words and instead of asking you dinner he asked you, "would you like t'go hungry wit' me?" It took you a minute to understand, he almost backed down due to the embarrassment. Obviously, you grabbed his arm, avoiding him to run away –or better said, explode himself away– and said yes. That night, at the door of your apartment, he tried to kiss you. He bumped his forehead with yours in the rush to get his face closer down to you. He apologized and left.
You remember thinking, that was all. He was not going to speak to you ever again, or at least until his embarrassment backed down a bit, which could be months. It surprised you to see him the next morning entering the little coffee shop you owned with a bucket of roses in his hand, cheeks cutely tinted pink and a funny scowl in his face, lips slightly pout.
You decided then that it was your turn to ask him on a date. Of course, he said yes. But this time, you decided to eat something at your apartment and watch movies. Something easy and comfy. No need to let the pressure of going outside invade him, considering who he is and what it means to be seeing outside on a date with the Number Two Pro Hero. You still didn't know how people hadn't already said something about your first date, when Bakugou took you to a very expensive and recognized restaurant.
After dinner, clearly prepared by him and shared in between cheeky jokes, laughs and innuendos, you were finishing washing the dishes while he dried them. It was that domestic kind of view, him smiling relaxed and amused, his big hero body taking a big portion of space in your small apartment kitchen, his hip resting on the counter, hands busy with his task, the lines at the corner of his eyes showing how happy he actually felt, it was all of him that made you realize…
It’s him.
Bakugou Katsuki is the one.
When he finished, he folded the cloth he was using to dry the last plate and placed it on the counter behind him, before he turned to you, the amusement of the last funny thing you said still printed on his face. “What?”
“I’m going to kiss you, Bakugou Katsuki, so don’t move.” You don’t want a repentance of last time and the bump he left on your forehead thanks to his nervousness.
He visually gulped and you chuckled, but still gave him time to assimilate your words, and your actions, so you moved slowly as if it was a scaredy cat you were dealing with. His breathing was loudly heard with each movement of yours and his hands grabbed the counter strongly like his life depended on that grip. He was serious now, concentrated even in not moving. And that was so cute, that even if he looked that desperate to get close to you, he also wanted to do as you said.
You stepped closer, hand coming to rest just above his heart, and his chest loosened. Katsuki let go of his anchor at the kitchen counter and slipped his hands around your waist immediately and tugged you against him, brushing your noses together. Choosing to dive into whatever ocean you were living as a siren in.
 “If you don’t want to…”
Oh, yeah. You were going to make him say it. Because he was Bakugou freaking Katsuki and you were on fucking cloud nine at the knowledge that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.
“If you don't kiss me right now…” he murmured, voice trembling, and you couldn't avoid the smirk that appeared on your face.
“Then what?” You whisper, your other arm surrounding his neck as your fingers interlace with the short hair at the back of his head, and he breathes out loud.
“Then I'll… I’ll have to do it myself.”
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, smiling one more time, before your lips finally pressed over his. This time softly, generously and carefully loving.
His arms around your waist tightened just as his heart beated fast and strong under your hand. A clear sign that he was as human as you. And he felt as deep into you as you to him.
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suzukiblu · 1 month
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one dp x dc ship that quickly comes to mind is Dani and Kon bonding over both being clones
the baby might be a surprise baby, because nobody is really fully sure how hybrid clone genetics work, and whether them both being half-human makes them compatible.
“. . . so like . . .” Kon stares down at Dani’s stomach, and the very tiny but very clear heartbeat slowly but steadily thrumming inside it.  
“How did this happen when we’re both hybrids and therefore supposed to be infertile?” she assumes. 
“Yeah, that,” Kon says. 
“Ghost stuff, man,” Dani says, waggling her fingers. “We’re having a soul-baby. Sorry? Or you’re welcome. Whichever one applies.” 
“What kind of ghost stuff?” Kon says. “Because I feel like this should’ve come up earlier, if it was a concern?” 
“Oh,” Dani says, looking briefly embarrassed and then making a face. “Well, I thought it wasn’t a concern, okay? It wasn’t supposed to be a concern.” 
“Because . . . why, exactly?” Kon asks. “Because I definitely would’ve . . . I dunno, soul-wrapped it or whatever, if it meant we were gonna inflict ourselves on some poor kid as parents.” 
“Yeah, we’re gonna be totally terrible ones,” Dani agrees. “Turns out we’re kinda in love, though, so I guess the kid’s stuck with us.” 
“. . . okay, no offense, but did you just decide that?” Kon asks, raising an eyebrow at her skeptically. “Because you’re pretty badass and all, but I really don’t think we’re there, no offense.” 
“See, that was what I thought, but then the yetis diagnosed me with a literal love-child,” Dani says, making a face again. “So apparently we’re just both emotionally oblivious. Anyway, wanna get married or just live in sin? I’m leaning ‘married’ because then we get a honeymoon and I bet we could do an intergalactic one.” 
“Oh, it’s Space Vegas or bust, boo.” 
“Hell yeah.” 
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hungharrington · 1 year
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I can see Steve saying "When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?" to read
wet as a dream
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anon babe, i'm sure this prompt is supposed to be dom energy and yet all i could read was assuring boyfriend stevie <3 so have sum softness with ur face-sitting hehe 2k words, minors do not interact, and yanno, this is exactly what the prompt suggests + a lot of lovey dovey feelings ! enjoy <3
Look, you were no stranger to sex, to say the least. It might still make you flush, an eager yet still slightly embarrassed warmth whenever you and Steve go from sweet kisses, to a hot make-out, to more…
But even then, you’re not entirely sure anything could’ve prepared for this— for Steve to murmur against your lip between his heated kisses, “I want you to sit on my face.” 
You pull back from the make-out, chest huffing and your voice sounds only a tiny bit strangled when you say, “What?” 
Steve takes advantage of his new view, eyes skirting up and down your face hungry with love. His eyes are warm, grin easy, like it’s no big deal when he says, “I said I want—“ 
“No, no,” You cut in, feeling your ears tinge warmly. “I, uh, heard you the first time.” 
The image his words conjure pours into your mind, sitting on his tongue as his hands curl right around your thighs and keep you as close as he wants— while you mewl atop him, at his mercy. You shiver just a bit, desire streaking through you, and it quickly reminds you of the lap you’re sitting it, the evidence of Steve’s desire hard beneath you. 
His hands haven’t moved, still resting on your sides. His thumbs swatch up and down lightly, trying to read your expression. “You don’t have to,” Steve says earnestly, brows drawing together. “But, I promise it’ll feel so good.” 
That you have no doubt about. You’ve found it especially hard to stay quiet when Steve gets his mouth on you— something in the way he eats you out, with such an enthused fervor, moaning enough that you know he enjoys it too. 
“That’s not what I’m worried bout.” You admit, shifting in his lap again. Your hands that have been resting on his chest fall, landing on your thighs. You avert your eyes for a moment, some old insecurities bubbling to the service — you’ve never done this before but Steve has, he’s probably done it with girls skinnier than you, with smaller thighs and— 
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t, okay?” Steve interrupts your stream of prickly thoughts, moving a hand up to cradle your jaw sweetly. You meet his eyes, knowing your worry displays on your expression. His fondness soothes you. 
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.” Steve promises. 
“You’re sure?” You check one more, anxiety getting the best of you. 
Steve chuckles lightheartedly, leaning in to kiss you deeply. He pulls back an inch, scanning your face once more, looking for more hesitancy to soothe. “If you are,” he assures with another smile. 
With a deep breath, you nod, aiming for sure. You think back to the steamy image your mind had provided, think back to every time Steve’s gotten between your thighs and drawn out noises out of you that you didn’t even know you could make — you want to do this. 
Steve grins. He reclines himself to lie back on the bed, his hands fluttering down to ghost touches along your thighs. Another nerve trips you up. 
“Can I— can I keep my skirt on?” You ask nervously, your fingers gripping the edge of your skirt. 
Steve softens, grin melting into a reassuring smile. “Of course, honey. And if you want to stop, just- if you’re uncomfortable or find you don’t want to—“ 
“I do.” You interrupt him. “I do want to do this.” 
To prove your point, you begin to work your panties down your thighs — You can feel the slick that’s pooled in them, from when you had gotten worked up from the hot kisses from Steve earlier. You feel yourself clench in anticipation of what’s coming. 
It takes a moment to work them off, getting caught on your ankles awkwardly - but that awkward giggle dies in your throat at Steve’s heavy stare. You failed to notice his growing boner until you situate yourself back on his lap, in nothing but your skirt and bra, and the feel of it feeds into your lust. He wants this. He really fucking wants this. 
“Okay,” you say, biting your lower lip for a moment, trying to think if there’s a sexier way to shuffle up the bed to his face. Steve let’s you get all of halfway before he pauses you, hands on your thighs again— he wants to say this when he can still see your whole face properly. 
"When I tell you to sit on my face,” He starts, enjoying how your expression peaks in embarrassment once again. He grins. “I want you to sit.” 
He raises his brows at you. “Is that clear?" He asks, making sure you’re both on the right page. Steve Harrington certainly did not half-ass some face-sitting.
You nod, a little relieved at his insistence and clear excitement— something delightful burns in your tummy that he wants to do this, enough to assure you to not dare hold back. 
You shuffle a little higher, nerves creeping in as you hover over Steve’s face, unsure how to start. Do you just—? 
The question is ripped from your mind as Steve’s arms curl up around your thighs, hands holding you firm, and he pulls you down onto his mouth. His tongue licks a bold stroke through your folds, warm and wet. 
Heat plumes in your tummy, a soft sigh of pleasure escaping your lips as your head tips back — you can’t quite handle the sight of him between your thighs just yet. You know it’ll send your head spinning. Your hands hold the edge of your skirt up, just an inch or so to keep it out of his face and you try to focus on the sensations instead. 
His pink lips mouth softly along your cunt, tongue soothing along as he works up to your clit — then swirls his tongue over it firmly, enough to pull a soft moan from you. You legs spread a little wider, sinking into him and you can feel the hum of approval from Steve. 
“There we go,” He praises, pressing another sloppy kiss to clit. “That’s it.” 
His encouragement melts into you, fiery hot, and you whine a bit, hips rocking down on his face instinctively. Pleasure twists the coil in your stomach tighter. Steve’s fingers flex against the skin of your thighs, his tongue loose and warm as he licks and suckles at your core.
Time melts and muddles as you lose yourself to pleasure, Steve dutifully giving and giving, his plush lips dragging deliciously against your clit so good that all you do is moan above him. You’re not sure how long you’ve been going, only the mounting pull in your tummy to give an indication, when Steve’s mouth begins to kiss lower and lower — until he’s aligned with your slicked entrance. 
Where you might of once given a moment to embarrassment, you only feel your eagerness grow— especially as Steve releases a filthy moan against you. 
“You’re so wet,” he rasps, the words doused in lust and approval. You shiver at his husky voice, a weak moan scraping out your throat when he skirts his tongue around your hole, avoiding it purposefully. You clench, and whine in complaint. Tease. 
“My girl,” He hums, a few more kisses. You have no doubt you’ve soaked the bottom half of his face with your arousal— but the thought just adds to your lust. “You love this, hmm? Y’glad I ask’d?” 
You’re nodding fervently, desperate for him to keep going, and a pitiful “yes” trips out your mouth. Steve chuckles, the vibrations making you keen, and your impatience gets the best of you; you rock down on him again. 
Steve’s expecting it, if his tightening grip on your thighs and experienced tongue are any indication. He presses up, tongue fucking into the entrance of your cunt hotly and you can’t help how one of your hands shift down rapidly to fist in his hair.
It’s the first time you’ve properly looked down at him, between your thighs, and the sight of him so clearly enjoying himself turns your whine into a loud moan. His hair is messy, eyes slipping closed as he dedicates himself to making you fall apart on his tongue. He looks so fucking hot. 
“Steve,” you whimper, tugging his hair lightly — and you receive a moan in response. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t pause for a moment as your hips move to chase your orgasm which has begun to peak over, just let’s you ride his face. Your chest heaves, every exhale painted in a moan. Every word out your mouth is a curse or his name. 
“Steve,” you whine in warning and Steve’s eyes open. It’s more intimate than you’re expecting, staring down at him with his mouth on your cunt, moments from tipping over the edge- you’re beginning to sound pathetic, whines getting higher and higher. Steve shifts, tilts his head the right way and then— then his fucking nose is rubbing your clit just the right way and you’re gone.
You cry out softly, breathes shuddering as everything peaks — thighs trembling, your hand tightening it’s grip in Steve’s hair, eyes screwed close and your mouth hung open in a moan. The room feels unbearably warm as your orgasm washes over you. Steve thinks he might actually cum in his pants at the sight, especially from his vantage point between your thighs. Fuck. His cock gives a twitch in his pants. 
They’ve been growing tighter and tighter, fueled by your every moan since he’s managed to convince you onto his face — and now his cock is so hard it nearly hurts. Not once had Steve considered slipping a hand down to relieve some pressure; this isn’t about him. It’s about you — and fuck, if you don’t you look beautiful cumming on his face. Twitching and moaning and falling apart on his tongue. 
Steve works you through it, turning back to sloppy open mouth kisses up until you’re finally releasing his hair and shuffling back, so to slump down back in his lap. If you hadn’t just seen stars, you might notice the flicker of excitement in your tummy at Steve’s hardness beneath you. For the moment, however, you’re spent.
Steve hasn’t moved. You try to catch your breath and peer down at him. A laugh catches in your throat at the blissed out smile toying on his face — someone clearly enjoyed themselves. 
“Fucking hell,” you huff approvingly. Steve’s eyes flick over to meet yours and he grins. Your slick is still on his lips, pinker than ever in the sheen of your arousal. He licks them clean. Your tummy twists up at the sight. Why is that so hot? 
“Didn’t I say you’d enjoy it?” Steve hums cockily, his hands searching across the sheets to find your hips. He caresses the skin there gently. 
“Mmhm,” you hum your agreement. “Don’t think I was the only one who enjoyed that though.” You tease, moving your hips down against his bulge purposefully and Steve lets out a deep groan. His hips move up beneath you.
You regrettably stop his movements with a hand on his chest. Steve watches you closely, eyes inquiring. “I’ll return the favor but, um, give me a couple minutes.” 
You smile sheepishly. It dawns quickly on Steve the reason for your pause, needing a cool-off period, and his grin turns down right cheeky. His hands shift up to your wrists and he tugs your forward, capturing you in his arms and holding you against his chest. It’s warm and safe and you can’t help but melt into it, still sapped from your orgasm. 
“That just means I did my job right,” Steve murmurs gleefully, pressing a kiss into your hair. He chuckles at your small uh huh and holds you tighter. 
And with all his whispers of how hot you looked above him, how hard it got him, it doesn’t take very long to find the energy to return the favor. 
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lexirosewrites · 8 days
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Steddie as rival lawyers who have very different careers.
Steve became a prosecuting attorney after graduating from a top school at his parents’ insistence. It pays well and makes them happy, even if it’s joyless for him to fight for things he doesn’t believe in.
Prosecuting innocent people and fighting for the sake of money without morals.
On the other end of the spectrum is free-spirited Eddie Munson. He’s a defense attorney who shows up in ill-fitting suits that show off his many neck and hand tattoos. Piercings in his ears and hair that’s not tidy or tamed in any way.
He’s a rebel who barely graduated from some lower tier law school with no prestige whatsoever.
Steve naturally assumed their first trial would be a breeze.
But somehow— sheer dumb luck, bad jury selection, or just stupid fate— Eddie wins. And he keeps winning.
Over and over for months.
Steve’s long uninterrupted winning streak becomes a losing one. If Eddie’s in the courtroom too, Steve knows he’s already lost his case.
It’s humbling.
Actually, it’s frankly embarrassing to lose to someone who’s so unprofessional and doesn’t take the law seriously like Steve.
Eddie is respectful of course, but he doesn’t use lawyer-speak unless he’s referencing a precedent of a law. Other than that, he’s overly casual and friendly. Everyone’s favorite lawyer.
He doesn’t lack passion though. No, the guy all but hops up on tables to make speeches about freedom or the American dream during every trial. Utterly ridiculous.
It works though. The juries fall for his bullshit about being down to earth and his clients walk free because of it.
Steve can’t stand it. He can’t stand Eddie and his mockery of his career.
This ultimately culminates in a confrontation in the parking lot one night after a particularly tense trial conclusion.
Once again, Eddie’s guy walked free and Steve knows he’s gonna hear about it from his boss (who also happens to be his dad).
So he might snap a bit when Eddie comes out whistling and looking happier than anything.
“Hey, jackass!”
Eddie looks around like Steve might be referring to some other jackass, despite the otherwise empty parking lot.
He points to himself in question and Steve rolls his eyes in answer.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Eddie finally greets him with a smirk. “Chinese takeout for tonight sound good?”
Steve’s stomach growls at the mere suggestion.
He’d accidentally skipped lunch earlier so he could make changes to his closing argument. Fat load of good that did him.
“Yeah, sure, whatever. You’re not off the hook that easily though. What the hell was that brutal cross examination on my witness, you dickhead?”
Eddie smiles extra sweetly and presses a quick but affectionate kiss to Steve’s forehead first.
“All’s fair in love, war, and court, baby. You can whine about it later when we’re home if you really want to. I happen to know some very nice pillows that would love to muffle your pretty little moans.”
Asshole.
He blushes, glancing around to make sure they’re still alone before he pulls Eddie into an embrace.
They’ve barely spent any time together this week because of the tense trial and he really missed his boyfriend (not to be mistaken for the jackass who argues with him daily in the courtroom).
As much as they can separate their personal and work lives, it’s hard to not be on the same side of things.
“What if I want you to hear me moan, Eddie? I think it’s only fair since you seem to get everyone else off and I’m the one always suffering for it,” he mumbles snarkily into Eddie’s shirt.
Eddie laughs at the pun. He knew that he would.
“Is that why you’re sulking, babylove? You want me to get you off too?” He nods with a pathetic whine. Not getting to cum for a few days can do that to a person. “I think that can be arranged. You’ve been such a good boy for me lately. You’ve earned a treat.”
Steve melts into his boyfriend’s arms, feeling loved.
“I missed you.”
Another kiss to the forehead, but this time Eddie’s lips linger there as he speaks.
“Missed you too, sweetheart. Not sorry for winning, but I am sorry that you lost.”
Steve knew the defendant was innocent. There wasn’t much of a case to be made anyway. It still stings though.
“Yeah... I’ve been thinking about that and it might be time to quit my dad’s firm. I’d much rather be on the same side as you,” Steve confesses.
Eddie pauses.
“Does that mean…”
Steve looks up smiling and confirms, “Yes. I’ll accept the job offer if it’s still on the table.”
The rival lawyer had offered him a job months ago, before they even got together.
By accepting the position, it means they’d finally be allowed to be a couple publicly and they’d be sitting on the same side of the court for once.
It would also free Steve from his dad’s control and disappointment.
“Stevie, I’d love nothing more than to have you as my partner. In both the court and life. I love you, sweetheart.”
He can’t resist.
“I love you too… jackass.”
Eddie makes good on his promise to get Steve off that night. He even brings out the handcuffs for accuracy sake.
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divineecelestial · 7 months
Text
Pretty Girl [3] Eddie Munson x fem!reader
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Summary — Eddie thinks he'll actually die if you keep ignoring him. So he's going to make you talk to him. Even if that means climbing through your window.
Word Count — 3.1k
Warnings — graphic depictions of sexual activity, oral sex (fem receiving) dirty talk, Eddie jerks off while eating you out
18+ ONLY
I didn't forget about you sluts.
“I can take you home.” 
You watched as your group of friends slowly disappeared from view, their voices diminishing into silence as the car drove further down the road. The smile faded from your lips as a chilly breeze crashed against you were overcome with the realization that you were alone. Both literally and figuratively. Your friends, something you weren’t even certain you could call them, had forgotten you. No, that wasn’t the right word. Left you must’ve been more accurate because they knew you were there but none of them seemed to even care they left you alone under a yellow streetlamp on an empty road as raindrops dampened your uniform. Yes, left behind was the right term for it. Disregarded and ignored. You glanced down at the brown stains on your white, or what used to be sneakers. Goosebumps rose on your exposed legs as you crossed your arms, trying to preserve as much warmth as you could. You took a deep breath, readying yourself for the journey home as your eyes stung with warm tears.
With reluctance, you peered over your shoulder and sighed shakily. There was a flicker of anger passing through you as you took him in; casually leaning against his van with his adorned hands stuffed inside his pockets. Of course, he was there. He was always there whenever you needed him as far away as possible. You blinked away the dwelling tears and whirled around, ignoring his presence entirely. You didn’t make it very far before you heard his heavy footsteps near you. “Oh, come on. I might be a dick but I’m not gonna let you walk home alone, at night, in the rain.” You wanted to remark that ‘might’ wasn’t accurate. He was a dick. “Especially in your pretty little uniform.” 
You could feel your strands of hair sticking to your skin as you hesitantly faced him. “Oh, so you’re gonna protect me?” You questioned as if the mere idea of him keeping you from everything that goes bump in the night was ridiculous. Because that wasn’t him and that wasn’t how this dynamic worked. “I don’t think so. I’d rather take my chances with whatever is out there.” You said, glancing at the darkness surrounding the town. You knew what was out there. Dealt with everything that could’ve possibly killed you and survived, but here you were, dreading getting inside a car with him.
He loomed closer and your glare hardened as your nostrils flared. God, he couldn’t get over how pretty you looked when you were mad at him. You were finally acknowledging him again with that delicious anger he’d been craving. And for a brief moment, he couldn’t have even bothered to notice your wrath flaming beneath your harsh gaze because you were finally acknowledging him. You were finally looking at him with those damn eyes he swore he could lose himself in and he didn’t seem to care that you were only looking at him because you were on the verge of slapping him across the face.
  Things were different. And this time, this change wasn’t a welcome one and you were desperate for everything to suddenly transform back to ‘normal’. Or as normal as things could get between you two. The weekend arrived and you didn’t want to go anywhere, irrationally worried you were going to see him. Avoiding him like he was contaminated with the plague wasn’t something you were used to. Sure, before this relationship progressed, you didn’t go out of your way to speak with him, but now, you couldn’t even walk in the same hallway without being consumed by embarrassment. 
As ridiculous as this might’ve seemed, the kiss you abruptly pressed against him was strangely intimate. Well, for you it was. Because sex could just be something as simple as people seeking physical pleasure from another person. A simple hook-up. That connection was fiery, consuming, and temporary. You might not have had sex with him, but he allowed you to chase that all-consuming pleasure from him and you felt stupid for thinking he could’ve thought of you as anything other than some sex toy. You kissed him and he rejected you. 
“You don’t mean that.” His smirk was cruel and you were moments from scratching his face until he was unrecognizable. “Come on, pretty girl. I’ll keep my hands to myself and drive with two hands on the wheel.” 
As soon as the words fell from his lips, another breeze moved through the ice-cold air and you shivered. The light rainfall slowly dampened his unruly hair and you knew the downpour was going to drastically change soon. You looked upward at the dark skies and clamoring clouds, silently cursing at them for this. Oh, gosh, this couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t seriously be considering this. Sitting in a small and enclosed space with Eddie Munson for who knows how long after he had practically rejected you was outrageous. You were going to deny the offer when a loud crack echoed throughout town. Thunder. His smile only widened. “Fine. Give me your jacket.” He raised his eyebrows at the sudden demand but complied regardless. That’s how it worked between you both; you demanded and he complied. Most of the time.  In one fluid movement, his jacket was removed and he wordlessly handed it to you. You removed your backpack and cheer bag and roughly smacked it against his chest before walking to his passenger door, decidedly ignoring his groan. He quickened his pace to open the door for you. “If you try any of your shit, I’m jumping out of the car.” You warned.
His jacket was warm and smelled like his cologne and weed. You tightened the fabric around yourself and flicked on the heater. He pulled away from the school’s desolate parking lot and drove away. A minute hadn’t gone by before he opened his mouth. “Why were you at school this late?” He knew why. He had practically memorized your schedule and knew exactly what you were doing most days, but he just wanted to listen to your voice. It had been too long since he had heard your voice directed at him.
You were quiet and didn’t answer immediately. He was going to ask the question again before your voice filled the confines of his car. “Cheer practice.” You answered shortly, gaze remaining outside the window and at the passing blur of colors. “You?” You hesitantly asked. You didn’t know why you bothered asking. You knew what he was doing there. He was cleaning the mess left behind by the Hellfire Club and doing whatever else dungeon masters do. You only knew because the kids were practically attached to him. It’s not like you wanted to know or asked about it before. Of course not.
“Hellfire.” And you must’ve been delusional if you thought Eddie was granting you some kind of mercy and deciding to drive the remainder of the trip in sweet silence. Yes, delusional indeed. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. These past couple of days, you know.” You did know, it was impossible to not notice such an imposing figure in your life like him. Beneath the facade of flippancy and sarcasm, there was the undeniable truth—he was hurt. And this wasn’t an ordinary kind of hurt. This was an ache that throbbed and demanded to be felt, the lifeless thump of a cracked heart before transforming into a sharpness, unlike anything he had ever experienced. Heartache was a disease desperate to be felt. The cure of his was inches away from him, shrouded with his clothes.
“I didn’t notice.” You lied straight through your teeth and he knew you were lying. 
His eyes remained on the road, but his grip on the wheel tightened. “I just wish you would let me explain—”
You breathed in sharply. “There isn’t anything to explain.” Another lie. 
There was another crackle and a flash of light scattered across the sky. “Yes, there is. Just let me—” 
The driveway of your household was steadily approaching and you were already unbuckling your seatbelt, practically tumbling outside as soon as the van stopped moving. “Thank you for the ride.” He watched as you disappeared behind your door, closing it without glancing back. 
Beneath the warmth of your blankets, you readjusted yourself with your eyes closed. Your face was smushed against your pillows, a small sigh escaping you as you squeezed your pillow tighter. The sound of your window opening filled the silent air and your eyes snapped open, hurriedly looking over your shoulder before jolting upright. “Your hair is sticking out everywhere.” A voice said casually. “Cute.” 
The chill from the midnight breeze crashed against you like an icy tidal wave. Across the room, and casually perched on your windowsill, was Eddie. You rubbed the side of your face and groaned, promptly shoving your face back onto your baby pink pillows. You should’ve been worried, frightened even, that he had broken into your room, but the only emotion you could manage was exhaustion. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was muffled as you spoke into the fabric.
This must’ve been a figment of his depraved imagination, a scene plucked from his dreams—you were languidly sprawled across your blankets and wearing nothing but a small nightgown. And that nightgown revealed the softness of your breasts as you slowly faced him, your bare ass peeking beneath the thin fabric. As you pressed your cheek against your palm, finally offering your hazy attention, the breath was stolen from lungs and he subtly latched onto the windowsill to steady himself. “You know, those friends back there didn’t really seem like friends. Just an observation.” He was stalling. He knew he was, but he was desperate for a semblance of normality. 
You breathed in sharply. “Well, you can keep your observations to yourself.” 
It was silent for a beat. “You wanna hear another observation?” He didn’t care if you didn’t.
You yawned, blinking slowly. “Not really, but I’m sure you're going to share anyway.”
He smiled, thoroughly enjoying the annoyance searing your voice. “I think you like being around me because you don’t have to pretend. You can be your mean, stubborn, and bratty self around me. Around them, you have to be The Head Cheerleader.” You weren’t even focusing on the coldness filling the room or even acknowledging that he was inside your room. That hadn’t been processed completely. Yet. “It’s obvious. I don’t know how no one else doesn’t notice.”
Through your sleepy gaze, you narrowed your eyes. “You think you know me, Munson?” 
“No, I do know you.” He answered so surely. “I think you’re forgetting I grew up with you.” That wasn’t something you could ever forget even if you had tried. And you had desperately. “You were my first-ever crush. I was obsessed with you. Still am, by the way.” He casually added. “I grew up watching you. I memorized everything about you. I even watched those damn pep rallies for you. Failed classes so you could be my tutor. I even bribed Mr. Johnson so I could be your partner for the project that let me see those pretty little panties of yours.”
He moved away from the windowsill and loomed closer to the edge of your bed. “So I need you to understand something. You were my first and only crush. You were my first of many wet dreams. You were the only girl who made me nervous and made me feel like some lovesick loser because you looked at me. There were times when I couldn’t fucking function because you smelled so good, said something so damn smart in class, or yelled at Carver for being a dick. I need you to understand I have been and still am, fucking crazy for you and you kissed me.”
He kneeled, his tentative hands softly caressing your thighs before pressing a small kiss on your knee. “I need you to understand that I’m the loser who plays D&D with freshmen, sells weed, and hasn’t had a girlfriend, who fucking watches porn to practice for this exact moment and you’re you.” Another gentle kiss on your other knee. “And, fuck, you’re so perfect. The goddamn prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” A kiss on your thigh. “So damn smart.” Another kiss on your other thigh. “And you’re funny. You challenge me.” His nose nudged the hem of your nightgown as he licked the inside of your thigh. “So I do know you and I know you like me. And that’s something I can’t wrap my head around.”
You shuddered as his breath brushed against your skin, unintentionally wrapping your leg around his shoulder, your calf pressed against his back, pulling him closer. You whispered his name, a plead for something. Anything. Your voice, breathless and desperate, was a siren’s call and he would’ve swam to the depths of the darkest ocean to hear it again and again.
The words uttered from his flushed lips were barely processed as lifted the hem of your nightgown. His eyes rolled to the back of his head before closing them, almost as if he were murmuring a silent prayer, and he took a moment to admire the godly sight before him. Hidden beneath the softness of your nightgown and thighs was something he had only dreamed of. Yeah, of course, he’d seen pussies before. From porn, mind you, but this was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He didn’t understand how you, probably the most perfect woman to ever roam this earth, had just become even better. 
You could feel each slow breath from him as he simply admired. “Do something.” You whispered. Your voice was a soft reminder that he needed to move, do something as you put it. Slowly, his tongue dragged across your pussy and a primal groan escaped his mouth. He pulled away suddenly and you glanced at him curiously. He looked concentrated, brows scrunched together in deep thought. “I-Is something wrong?” 
A moment passed and he shook his head. “I’m just trying not to cum.” He eventually said. 
You threw your head back and laughed, which was stifled by a moan as he shoved his head back between your thighs. His initial movements were experimental, unsure, but as he continued and listened to your sounds, he knew what he was doing. Sort of. “Fuck, yes.” Your voice was unrecognizable to your own ears and the moans slipping from your lips were unlike anything you had made when alone. 
This was the exact moment where Eddie decided he was going to marry you in the future. But first he was going to make you cum. 
With his tongue still flicking against your clit, occasionally sucking, he unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock from the confines of his clothes. Your legs shook as he shoved two ringed fingers inside you, slowly pumping you and memorizing every detail of this moment before he gathered the juices of your arousal and jerked himself off. “So fucking wet.” He said, pathetically whining as the pornographic sound of your wetness coated his cock. “I don’t know how I lived this long without tasting you.”
Your thighs pressed against his face as your hand pulled his hair and he promptly decided if he were to die tonight, he would die a happy man. This is where he belonged. Most men wanted to be businessmen, sleep on a bed full of money with dozens of women keeping them company, but he didn’t. His face shoved between your shaking thighs, sucking on your clit as you yanked his hair and moaned his name, was where he belonged. “Please don’t stop.” You pleaded. And as much as Eddie loved hearing you yell at him, he decided this was how he wanted to hear you from now on. "Yes, yes, yes. Don't stop."
“Wouldn’t dream of it, my pretty girl.” God, him and that nickname were going to be the death of you. 
“I-I’m gonna—” Your voice cracked and you couldn’t finish your own sentence. 
His hand clutched your thigh with a newfound roughness, pulling your closer, and his other hand squeezed and tugged his leaking cock. “Come on, pretty girl. Come for me.” His pace and movements didn’t change or falter. “Give it to me. Come for me, please. I need it.” 
At that moment, you decided Eddie wasn’t going anywhere. He was never getting rid of you because he ate your pussy like a starving man and made you cum until you saw twinkling stars. “You have the filthiest fucking mouth—”
His wet mouth pressed against yours, his hands coated with your juices and he clutched your cheek. “You taste that?” He asked after pulling away, his lips faintly brushed against yours, teasing. “That’s the taste of the prettiest girl—” He kissed you again and you were barely able to process the softness of his mouth against you before he pulled away again. “Who fucking likes me and can’t deny it.”
And his knees buckled as you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against you. “What have you done to me, Eddie Munson?”  You mumbled. He could feel your glittering smile against his and there wasn’t anything more beautiful. 
He saw the gilded walls surrounding your heart and decided he was going to do everything he could to get there. He poked and prodded, tugged and pulled before deciding to take a jackhammer and destroy everything keeping him from you. “My five-year plan of seducing you finally worked.” And he stopped for only a moment, processing the mere fact that this was real. He was really touching you, tasting you, licking your cum off his soaked lips. “I’ve dreamed of this.” His voice was low and below a whisper, his warm breath tickling your face with each word. You could feel the warmth of his lips touching your shoulder, a ghostly caress against your skin.  
You placed a few random pecks on his face. “I really like you, Eddie Munson.” There was vulnerability exuding from you, unlike anything he’d ever seen from you before. 
“So this is what the famous [Y/N] is like behind closed doors.” The pouring rain soaked the floor outside your room, the grey clouds visible through the droplet-covered windows.  "Who would’ve thought my pretty girl was so sweet?” 
You playfully rolled your eyes, smacking his arm. “Shut up.” You laughed. He would've fought (and probably lose) anyone just to hear that beautiful sound again and again.
“That’s not what you were saying earlier. Oh, Eddie, please don’t stop. I’m gonna cum!” He mocked with an obnoxiously high pitched voice.
You decided a another kiss would be the best way to shut him up. “God, you’re so pretty I’m gonna faint.” He mumbled, squeezing your breasts and pinching your hardened nipples. “Can I please fuck you? If I don’t fuck you and cum inside that pretty pussy, I think I’ll die.”
You moaned into his mouth and he gratefully swallowed the sound. “Yeah, come on, Eds, fill me up.”
“Fuck yes.”
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