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romantichomicide95 · 3 months

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DIRTY TALK ⨾ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⤹summary: how the jjk boys talk during sex/sexual acts. dirty talk, p—>v, oral(both receiving), choking, slapping, slight praise kink, some dom!characters. MDNI

⤹ including: satoru gojo, megumi fushiguro, yuji itadori, suguru geto, nanami kento, and sukuna. (all characters are of legal age)

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GOJO

“Fuck baby, takin’ cock so good.” “Come on angel, wanna hear you.” “Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” “Fuck, need you so bad. Please.” “Tell me I’m the strongest.” “Shit, keep moving…just like that. Good girl.” “This pussy was made for me.” “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

Gojo would have you under him on the couch. It was supposed to be a movie night. No fooling around, you wanted to get through just one movie with him. But one look at his beautiful blue eyes and you wouldn’t be able to resist. “Fuck baby, takin my cock so good.” His thrusts were messy and his face was plastered with a cocky smirk at sound of your moans echoed softly in the room. "Mmm…gunna cum," you breathed out, arching your back to meet his every thrust. Gojo's hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding himself deeper into you as he leaned down, his breath ghosting across your skin, "That’s right baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

MEGUMI

“You feel so good…every time.” “To fucking g-good.” “You look so f-fucking pretty.” “Fuck…you’re …so fucking wet.” “Want you to cum for me pretty girl.” “I -uh- I wanna feel you ride me.” “Does that feel good?” Also lots and lots of grunts, he’s not always super vocal.

Megumi had you spread out on his bed, his tongue licking up your folds as his long slender fingers worked magic inside you. He was taking turns pressing his tongue against your clit and circling it. One hand reaching up to play with your tits. “Does it feel good?” He breaths against your thighs, eyes trained on your shaking body, as he continues licking up all your slick. You respond with a moan of his name, your hands lacing in his hair. He can’t help letting out breathy moans as you writhe and twitch under the feeling of his tongue, his dick twitching in his pants when you cum on his tongue. “I-uh-I wanna feel you ride me.”

GETO

“You can take it all baby.” “Is it too much?” “Good girl, say my name.” “You like that baby?” “You gunna be a good girl for me?” “Atta girl, taking me so well.” “That’s right, such a good little slut.”

Geto has you on your knees, door to his office locked. Shades pulled down. His hips fucking your face “Atta girl, taking me so well.” He praises as he continues thrusting into your eager mouth. “That's right," he growls, his hands tightening in your hair as he drives deeper into your throat. "Such a good little slut." Your eyes water, a tear rolling down your cheek and he watches as you gag on him, not pulling back. A low groan escapes his lips as he feels himself about cum… “You can take it all baby.”

YUJI

“Baby you feel so good.” “I love you so much.” “You doing okay?” “Want you to cum for me okay?” “Baby, you’re so good at that.” “You’re so beautiful.” “F-fuck baby, I can’t last long when you do that.”

Yuji’s eyes are focused solely on the way your ass bounces against his pelvis every time he thrusts himself deeper into you. “Baby you feel so good.” The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of your wet, warmth is making him dizzy. As he reaches around to tease your clit, you arch your back in response, grinding against him. You back your ass up into him and his head spins. “F-fuck baby, I can’t last long when you do that.”

NANAMI

“Good girl.” “Just one more for me princess.” “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” “Let me hear how good I fuck you.” “Fuck, wanna put a baby in you.” “That’s it, swallow for me.” “That’s okay baby, make a mess.”

Nanami watches as you ride him, his strong hands on each hip guiding your movements. His eyes lock onto your tits, watching as they slightly bounce with each roll of your hips. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He says and you’d wanna hide your face if it wasn’t for the way he was looking at you, like you were all his. His hands slide down to your ass, gripping it firmly as he thrusts up into you. He groans softly as he reaches up to cup one of your breasts, his thumb brushing over the hardened nipple. “Fuck, you feel so good, good girl.”

SUKUNA

“Don’t touch me without my permission.” “Look at you moaning like a little slut.” “Got you so drunk off my cock, whimpering little mess.” “Look at me when I make you cum.” “Pathetic little thing.” “Shut up and take it.”

Sukuna has amusement in his tone. He’s got you under him, pounding into your abused cunt. “Look at you moaning like a little slut.” He says pinning your arms above your head with one hand and squeezing your throat with the other. He won’t let you touch him, he’ll barely let you move. If you try he’ll slap you with the hand he’s choking you with “Don’t touch me without permission.” He never slows down, he doesn’t care how much you writhe beneath him as his cock pounds against your cervix over and over. He knows how much you like it, how you always beg for it. He scoffs when he feels you convulse around his cock, your pussy twitching as you feel orgasm take you over. “Pathetic girl…Look at me when I make you cum.”

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #megumi smut #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo #kento nanami

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loveshotzz · 1 year

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bartender!eddie x fem!reader Eddie’s night.

🎵my man gives real love that’s why I call him killer, he’s not a ‘wham! bam! thank you ma’am!’ he’s a thriller.🎵

summary: After being stood up on a blind date, the cute bartender you’ve been ‘trying’ not to flirt with keeps you company.

word count: 12.6k

warnings: 90’s AU / 18 + no minors! /eddie is in his early 30’s, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi public smut (p in v), cream pie, dirty talk.

authors note: my love letter to the 90’s 💕after one month of brain storming and three weeks of writing here’s part one of Whatta Man! Eddie’s night. (This is a singular one shot. Steve’s night is part two, can you find the easter eggs for his night 😉)Thank you to my very talented friends who always brain storm with me and share ideas. This fun lil AU wouldn’t have happened with you. ily 💗 edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

You didn’t want to go on this date. Not when your roommate set you up, and you certainly didn’t want to go when he picked The Foxy Lounge. But when Weather Man Mike predicted the first warm day after three months of bitter winter you’d take any excuse to wear your favorite dress.

You’d been here before, always stumbling in after a night out with friends because they were the only 4am place in town. Those late nights turned to early mornings were more of a thing of the past now so when you got to the familiar chipped red door you didn’t recognize the bouncer standing outside. He has a head of honey colored hair that’s just long enough to run his fingers through. His toned frame sits pretty wrapped in a tight black tee and long legs covered in dark wash jeans tight enough for you to really have to focus on keeping your eyes on his face. A freckle covered neck leads to a strong jaw and a chiseled nose. Leaning against the brick wall with his boots crossed at the ankles a toothpick twirls between his straight teeth.

The platform of your sneakers hitting the pavement as you come to a stop and the jingle of your power beads alerts him of your presence, hazel eyes going round like the moon in the sky. Straightening his posture he snatches the tooth pick out of his mouth, stuffing it in his back pocket. You swear you see a Tamagotchi tucked away as he clears his throat with a puff of his chest.

“I.D.?”

Your lips twitch, the forced deep baritone in his voice isn’t fooling you, and you wonder if it fooled anyone when the signature beep of a Tomogatchi pet needing to be fed goes off in his back pocket. He coughs to try to cover the noise while you quickly pull what he needs out of your cross body. Holding it out for him to examine you look up with a glossed smile matching the one in the picture. Narrowing his eyes, you catch a glimmer of playfulness when he clicks on his flashlight.

Examining it like it could be a fake, you bite back a giggle while he turns it around giving it one more once over before handing it back to you with a soft chuckle.

“Funny, we have the same birthday.” His voice comes out normal this time, soft and friendly just like you thought.

“Twins!”

A genuine smile lights up his face like the sign above your head, his boyish features coming out despite the stubble on his chin.

“Might as well call us the Olsen’s.” Throwing you a wink he pulls the gold handle to open the door for you. The sounds of Return of the Mack break through the hums of the street behind you. “Have fun tonight honey, be safe. If anyone bothers you, just come grab me okay? I’m steve.”

Your cheeks heat up at the endearment and you have to remind yourself that you’re here for a date. You catch a hint of his cologne when your shoulder brushes against his chest on your way in, the expensive scent making you dizzy when it hits your senses.

“I will, thanks Steve,”your words are shy when they come out, making his lips twitch in response. Nodding his head, you catch the tinge of pink on his skin before he closes the door with a small wave.

It's even louder inside with the drunk conversations battling for dominance against the music. Tugging nervously at the bottom of your dress you look around the bar for the vague description of this guy Craig your friend gave you.

You scan the crowd a few times before your eyes catch the big brown ones of the bartender. The stool in front of him freeing itself at the same time your eyes connect, the corners of his plush lips pull up as he beckons you over with two heavily ringed fingers. The unruly dark auburn curls that hit just below his shoulders catch the low light behind the bar, the yellow glow softening up all his edges.

Rocking back on your heels you pull the strap of your cross body closer, doing your best to collect yourself before you push through the crowd accepting his invitation. His smile widens, pulling up his stubble covered cheeks to reveal a set of perfect white teeth to you. The one you give him in return comes out a little shy as you plop down on the ripped vinyl that matches the red of the door.

Ink litters his arms disappearing under the frayed ends of his sleeves letting you know there was more under the tight fit of his worn faded black Metallica shirt. The two rips near the collar give you a glimpse of the chain wrapped around his neck. The scruff lining his jaw adds a few years from afar but from this close he looks your age. The silver hoop in his nose catches against the bright lighting under the bar like the rings adoring his fingers. Pulling out two empty shot glasses with a twirl he quickly fills them up with Jameson.

“This one’s on the house sweetheat, it’ll help make your date cuter.” He winks with a sly grin, your stomach flutters with his full attention on you like this.

The glass is heavy in your grasp as you stare at the dark liquid with a faint grimace. His low chuckle catches your attention before the pop and hiss of the soda fills your ears. As if reading your mind he slides over a coke, letting you keep your pride by not having to ask for a chaser.

“How do you know I’m here for a date?” Raising a questioning brow, the sides of your lips twitch as you struggle to hold a straight face. “A girl can’t come to the bar alone on a Friday night?”

The chocolate in his eyes lights up at your playful banter, slinging a white towel over his shoulder he leans in, forearms pressing hard against the counter as he invades your space. The spice of his cologne and the burn of cigarette smoke joins with him and you find yourself sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Are you telling me you’re available then?” Dropping his voice low enough to feel between your legs, you wished more than anything you had a different answer to give him.

The heaviness of his gaze has your cheeks warming, the intensity of the eye contact forcing your gaze away for a second as you clear your throat. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear you muster enough courage to meet his eyes again.

“N-no unfortunately, you were right.” Exaggerating a heavy sigh, his confident demeanor never wavers despite his confirmed suspicions.

“Unfortunately is right, huh?” Winking, he pushes back leaving only the lingering scent of his cologne raising his shot in an offering of cheers. “To what could have been, baby.”

A giggle bubbles past your lips when his fingers brush against yours meeting in the middle with a clink. Downing his shot like a professional, he’s left to watch the way you struggle with yours. Amusement is evident on his face while he watches the way your throat stays unwilling to open. Holding the alcohol in your mouth longer than anyone would want, it finally gives in letting the bitter liquid go down with a bite. Pushing the can of coke towards you with his knuckles, his laugh booms loud from his chest as you search for reprieve in the sweetness with desperation.

Chugging with abandon, you forget your surroundings for a second before your eyes meet his over the rim of the can and it’s almost enough to have you snort the rest of it all over yourself.

Coming up for air you grumble a half assed “shut up” doing your best to try and fight the smile begging to spread across your lips as you wipe them with the back of your hand.

“Not a whiskey girl I take it?” Punctuating the ‘t’ harder than normal, his teasing falls on deaf ears when you get distracted at the way his thick fingers wrap around the shot glasses.

“Not a shot girl in general, I’d rather not taste the alcohol if I can help it.” Shrugging, you trace invisible patterns on the sticky quartz of the bar top with french tipped nails silently reminding yourself for the second time tonight you’re here for a date.

“So how’d you two meet?” He raises his voice so it comes out sickly sweet while a shaker and a lemon appears in his hands. Setting them down on top of the worn jagermeister logo that covers the drink mat he starts rolling the fruit against his palm.

“We haven’t met yet actually, a friend set us up.”

Eddie’s movements freeze for a second, eyebrows furrowing together in a look of confusion as if that was the craziest thing that anyone had ever told him. He grabs the bottle of simple syrup adding more to what looked like it was going to be a sweet drink before he answers.

“Someone like you shouldn’t need to be set up, sweetheart.” He looks up at you from under the hood of his lashes quickly picking up on the effect he has on you.

He twirls another empty glass onto the counter top before he smashes the lid of the shaker on, not giving you a chance to respond he starts shaking it louder than you know is necessary. The bats tattooed on his arm dance across the muscles with the flex of every flick of his wrist.

“Really? Laying it on thick, huh?” Raising your voice enough to know he could hear you, he taunts you by cupping his free hand over his ear to make a show of pretending he can’t, mouthing a ‘sorry’ with a smirk. The laugh he earns from when he finally relents is the prettiest sound he thinks he’s ever heard.

“Well I hope this ‘friend’ has a good vetting process. No less than three interviews or no dice.” He pours your drink with panache, like he’s putting on a show for you, like you’re sure he does with all the other girls.

Grabbing a straw he plugs one end with his index finger before he dips it into the slightly lighter liquid. The heat between your legs becomes almost unbearable when his lips wrap around the end tasting his creation with a low groan, his pink tongue pokes out to collect the sweetness left behind.

“I think, I think you’re gonna like this one. It’s an Eddie Munson original, I’m calling it "Wasting Love.” The roll of your eyes makes him bark out another laugh. The signs of the smoke you smell on him are more noticeable in this one’s rumble.

“I wonder what could have inspired it?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you knew you shouldn’t be flirting with him while you waited for Craig, but you can’t help yourself. Besides, he was already ten minutes late.

“I think you know what inspired it sweetheart, I can tell you’re not just some pretty face.” Dimples poking through his cheeks, he finally takes notice of the glares from the customers filling up the bar. Everyone’s patience starting to wear thin while they waited for whatever this was to be over.

“I gotta stop ignoring all the other people in here real quick, but I’ll be back for your review.” He throws you another wink and it has you shifting in your seat as he starts to walk away.

“Wait! I never opened a tab!” Calling after him as you reach for your purse, he tuts loudly, turning around to face you, continuing his path walking backwards.

“You shouldn’t be paying for a thing tonight, gorgeous.” He waves his hand dismissively before his back is to you again giving his undivided attention to the bearded man who looked ready to murder the carefree metal head if he didn’t get his Bud Light in the next five seconds.

Trying not to get too caught up in someone that wasn’t your date you timidly bring the straw to your lips. Humming appreciatively when the sweetness hits your tastebuds you’re pleasantly surprised at how much you actually like it. Feeling bold enough to take a bigger gulp, you look around for Craig again. So lost in the little bubble you had been in with Eddie you didn’t realize how much more the bar had filled up since you arrived. A new kind of rowdy energy in the air — the low murmurs of conversation get loud enough to drown out Semi- Charmed Kinda Life.

Glancing down at your pink swatch watch, your date was now twenty minutes late. Turning around to check and make sure the lavender cross body you told him to look for was visible, you crane your neck around looking one last time. It’s easy to shrug off the sinking feeling of rejection when you turn back around to watch Eddie in his natural habitat.

He moves behind the bar like he’s been doing it his whole life, like everything was muscle memory. As if he could feel you staring he catches your gaze throwing you a smirk before he tosses a bottle of tequila in the air catching it with ease. Pouring it into four lined up shot glasses, the group of girls in front of him celebrating what looked like a bachelorette party with all their multi-colored hats and boas squealed with drunk delight. Your eyes hit the back of your skull in a hard roll when one of them bats their eyelashes at him with a hand on his arm.

Sucking down the rest of your drink, the slurping once you hit the ice is loud enough to annoy the guy next to you who shoots you a warning look over his shoulder. Mouthing an apology you push your empty glass away looking around the bar one more time. The guilt of flirting with Eddie starts to disappear when you look at your watch again and start coming to terms you were actually being stood up. Searching for his doe eyes again, your heart sinks when you find him this time.

Dimples in his cheeks again, he’s practically beaming at her. Their body language telling you this isn’t their first time meeting and how animated he is when he talks to her is like he’s known her for years. Gesturing wildly with his hands while she nods enthusiastically, something he says has her throwing her head back with a laugh loud enough you can hear it over the music. You huff through your nose, the sting of rejection sneaking its way back in. The reminder that he was just doing his job and you were here for a date, one that never showed up, slaps you right in the face.

Averting your gaze to spare whatever confidence you have left, your eyes find the bouncer at the front door. Inside the bar now with a hard glare set on his handsome face. His arms sit folded across his broad chest while his jaw clenches at the same time as the muscles in his shoulders flex. Steve looks pissed.

Interest piqued, you follow his line of sight despite it going in the direction of the bar you were trying to avoid. Somehow not surprised when your eyes land on her again, you notice Eddie has already busied himself with someone else. With his back towards both of you he fills two pints with Blue Moon, the uncomfortable look on her face couldn’t be missed. The greasy blonde hair on the man that was clearly invading her personal space told you he’d been drinking all day. The grimace on her pretty face says she could smell it on his breath too.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when you see him grab onto her arm while trying to whisper in her ear. You feel yourself ready to stand up and help when she pushes him away, with the way the veins in her neck were flexing whatever she was saying to him wasn't nice. Shoving her hand in his face she storms towards the front door where Steve is waiting, looking seconds away from killing the man who followed her path out of the bar with a leer.

The scowl on her face softens instantly when she’s met with Steve opening the door, the glare on his face being replaced with a deep flush when you catch a “Thanks, Stevie” fall appreciatively from her lips.

SMACK

Jumping at the sound of metal hitting wood, Eddie’s dimples show themselves only this time they are for you as he leans forward on his arms again, eyes flicking towards the spot next to you. He pulls himself even closer when he notices no one new occupying the stool, making you search for friction with the fat of your thighs.

“Penny for your thoughts, beautiful?” Flashing you his perfect teeth for the second time tonight the bruise to your ego already starts to disappear.

“I drank it without gagging, didn’t I?” Crossing your arms on top of the bar it's your turn to lean into his space and you swear you hear his breath hitch at your new boldness.

Licking his lips, your eyes greedily follow the path of his tongue. His smile stretches across his face even more when he notices, making no effort to move- unwilling to back down from the silent standoff you’ve challenged him too.

“‘I’ll have you know I take that as a very high compliment coming from you.” His breath fans across your cheeks from this close, mint and whiskey hitting your nose when he huffs a laugh. “Where’s Prince Charming?”

“Turns out there was no Prince, just an ugly old toad.” Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you look up at him through half lidded eyes, “Good thing I didn’t kiss him, huh?”

A low rumble shakes in his chest as he dares to lean in even closer, the tips of your noses almost brushing while the bubble you’d lost yourselves in reappears.

“Yeah baby, you can’t give those out to just anybody, they gotta be for someone special.” His voice is low, dripping with the kind of want you’d never had directed at you before. His eyes take in every inch of your face from this close while you try to keep up with his smooth tongue.

“Got anyone in mind, Eddie?” Doing your best to match his tone, his brows pinch together at the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth taking one last look at your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah, I know a guy actually. He’s a bartender with a great head of hair.” Wiggling his eyebrows when you snort, the front door swings open, breaking you two apart as the girl from before commands the room like a record scratch, silencing the bar for the first time all night.

“Eddie! It’s bad, Steve needs you!” The sheer panic in her voice is enough for the jealous monster inside you to stay at bay as Eddie pushes back on his heels.

An irritated sigh escapes him while he mutters ‘not a-fucking-gain’ under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before his eyes find yours. You jump a little when he grabs your hands, the warmth of his palms enveloping yours while he gives you a pleading look.

“Don’t - I mean, please don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back, I need to go save my buddy’s ass again. But I promise I’ll be right back, this conversation is too important to leave unfinished.” He flashes you that million dollar smile like chaos isn’t ensuing outside and all you can do is nod, signaling that you’ll stay put.

Hopping over the bar his loose fitting combat boots squeak over the counter top, the black jeans that were hidden from your sight somehow fit him even better than his shirt. Your gaze is shamelessly hungry as it follows him until he’s out the door. The scuffle outside leaking through the music with a blur of bodies outside.

Too focused on the glimpse of Eddie’s towering frame stepping between the two guys to break up the fight, you don’t notice the person who walks through the unattended door until it shuts behind him with a thud. Ready to glare at whoever it is your eyes widen when you meet the ones belonging to who you can only assume is Craig. The burnt auburn hair he sports and the way he zero’s in on your purse confirms your suspicions. This was Craig, you're incredibly late and not even remotely as attractive as the bartender, date.

“Shit, shit, shit.” No matter how quickly you averted your stare, you knew it was too late, he saw you. Panic sets in while your brain goes a mile a minute trying to think a way out of this.

Looking around the bar for some sort of escape, the thought of ducking into the bathroom sounds like a winner but then the image of Eddie coming back and seeing you gone seeps into the forefront of your mind making you quickly toss that idea out the window. Turning to the people on either side of you who are too lost in their own conversations to notice your dilemma, you try to decide which one you could interrupt the most naturally.

The couple on your right looks like they’re on a date going really well and the one on your left seems like two friends catching up. The tap on your shoulder is enough for you to make a split second decision, clearing your throat you spare the newly blossoming romance next you from your desperate antics, choosing to interrupt the friends who are reconnecting with a loud fake laugh.

“That’s when she told me- um excuse me do I know you?” Gruff and confused, the man closest to you looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads. First your loud slurping and now this? This plan was never going to work from the get-go.

Another persistent tap on your shoulder has you grasping for straws. You open your mouth to try to sell whatever this was one last time.

“Umm excuse me?” Craig’s voice comes out loud enough to cut you off and for the poor guy next to you to give you the final cold shoulder. Unable to ignore him any longer, you force yourself to turn around and face him head on. Kind of.

Channeling your inner Alicia Silverstone you try to give him the best Clueless look you can muster and he returns it with an even more confused expression, clearing his throat.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’m Craig, Ariana’s friend. I think I’m supposed to be meeting you?” Shoving his hands in the pockets of his tan slacks, the maroon sweater he wears fits loosely over his thin frame, dirty black chucks on his feet, his look screams ‘I listen to Nirvana’.

“Umm, I think you have the wrong person? I wasn’t supposed to be meeting anyone here tonight.” It’s not believable in the slightest when the words leave your mouth, your less than confident delivery giving you away. The look on his face lets you know you’ve definitely been made

“Are you sure? I was told to look for the girl with a lavender purse.” As if to prove his point he points to the exact one he’s talking about slung across your shoulder. He scoffs when you keep up with your charade, “I know I’m late but this is ridiculous.”

“A lot of girls have purple bags, Craig.” His name comes out dripping in venom, the need to get rid of him before Eddie’s return throwing any logic out the window. You needed to believe your own lie.

The sudden harshness has him raising his hands in defense, backing down a little under the daggers of your glare.

“Whoa, chill out, my bad. You just match the exact description I was given, that's all.”

Clenching your jaw in frustration because he just won’t give up, you try to hold your composure while your eyes flick towards the door in anticipation for his return.

“Well you’ve told me you were late twice already so she probably just left. Rude of you to keep her waiting honestly.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you know that he’s aware of exactly what you are doing but you don’t care anymore.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what happened, and not her being bitter I’m one measly hour late.” The way his words clip signal the rejection sinking in, a glare setting firm on his face.

It’s the stare down of the century before Eddie comes barging through the entrance with a loud huff and a clap of his hands. Cheeks red from yelling and hair slightly more wild than before. He checks to make sure you’re still exactly where he left you before he glances over to Craig for a split second not registering who he is. Hopping over the bar with another skid of his boots, he still manages to give you a lopsided grin when he gets to the other side. Hitting the top of the bar in a series of beats - he’s a ball of energy.

“Sorry to keep you waiting sweetheart, Steve’s lucky the girl he took a knuckle sandwich for has a first aid kit. Rick keeps saying he’s gonna get one but I have yet to see it. Want another cocktail?” Talking a mile a minute with the leftover adrenaline from the fight, he still doesn’t notice the way Craig watches the two of you until he catches how awkward you’re being. Eddie’s face hardens, the softness he was giving you disappearing. “Something I can help you with buddy?”

You don’t even have to look at Craig to know he’s puffing out his chest with a point of his chin addressing Eddie.

“Actually pal, maybe you can.” His tone makes Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, a tested smile spreading over his lips while he lets Craig continue. “I was supposed to meet someone here for a blind date, I was told to look for a girl with a lavender purse exactly like this one. You haven't seen another girl with this exact same bag have you?”

Eddie’s wide eyes meet yours, amusement filling the specks of golden brown as he picks up on exactly what’s happening. The corners of his lips twitch before he nods his head licking his bottom lip holding your gaze long enough to make you squirm before bringing his attention back to Craig with a low whistle.

“Oh yeah, I remember that hottie, man. It’s a shame you were late, she took off with this dude she met waiting for you. She didn’t stand a chance, though, honestly. I know the guy, he’s too smooth for his own good. Pretty good looking too. Can’t be leaving your girl unattended around him. Probably wouldn’t have worked out between you two anyway.” Eddie catches the roll of your eyes at his self indulgent story as you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to hide your face splitting grin.

“Why don’t you walk away with some dignity. What’s that saying? There’s always more fish in the sea or some shit.” Eddie adds more salt to the wound, finally breaking Craig enough to give up.

“Whatever you say man, this bar is fuckin’ lame anyway. Who wants to drink to Third Eye Blind.” Grumbling his insults as he slinks away, he takes one last look at you and Eddie before his final exit with a flip of his middle finger.

Eddie’s stare is hot on your face, while you bashfully avoid his gaze keeping your eyes lingering on the door. When you finally dare to meet his eyes the shit eating grin on his face makes you groan, the buzz of your drink pulling a giggle out of you.

“Eddie, don’t —“

“Well, well, aren’t you just a little heartbreaker, huh?” His teasing only makes your cheeks grow hotter as you try to hide your face from his view.

“Don’t you need to go attend to all the customers you left?” Your words come out muffled from behind your hands as you slowly pull them down just enough to uncover the fake glare you were sending his way.

“I’ve got my favorite one right here.” Voice dropping low with a smirk, he was right, you didn’t stand a chance.

“I haven’t paid for a single thing, you refused my money if you remember.” Bringing your hands down to fully come out of hiding, he bites his bottom lip when he can take in your features again.

“It’s no good here, baby, I could actually get arrested if I take it and then how would I be able to take you out to get pancakes after my shift if I’m behind bars?” Bringing his hands together in mock shackles and a pout, the chain wrapped around his wrist catches your eyes for the first time.

“You’re takin’ me to get pancakes?” Flirting like a love sick teenager, you even start to kick your feet under the bar.

“It’s the least I can do since you’re my fill in bouncer for the rest of the night.” Smirking, he nods his head to the man at the opposite end of the bar flagging him down with a twenty dollar bill. His eyes sparkling with something new now that he had you.

“Me? A Bouncer? I’m not intimidating in the slightest!” Your cheeks hurt from how hard you smile at his retreating form, the game of ‘playing hard to get’ becoming a thing of the past now.

“Sorry, you owe me, heartbreaker.” He shrugs like it’s out of his control before flashing you the same lopsided grin leaving you a mess of nerves from getting to spend the night with him.

The hours till close go by faster than you anticipate with Eddie topping off your drink any time you ask, the buzz from the alcohol is just enough to handle the growing intensity of his flirting. Now that the only obstacle in the way of each other was time, he was relentless.

Enjoying the game of chicken the two of you had started unconsciously playing, you stop noticing the clock. Every six customers earns you five —sometimes ten minutes of his time and he makes sure to use every second of those breaks as an excuse to lean in close, whispering in your ear, holding your face close every time you talk. He was getting off on the way he could make you shift in your seat and hide your bottom lip between your teeth when he got close enough for his lips to brush against your ear. Your fingers find excuses to wrap around his wrist when he invades your space, playing with his chain, you keep him close making sure to tilt your head just enough for him to catch a glimpse down your neck into the low cut of your dress.

The small hand on the clock above the door hits the three and it’s not until his breaks start getting longer and your touches are able to get a little bolder that you notice the murmur of voices over the music disappears. The few stranglers left sipping their last drinks of the evening are paying the two of you no mind despite the way he’s tucking your hair out of his way to trace the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose.

The realization that you’re finally about to be alone with him brings your nerves to a head and the need to check yourself over in the bathroom mirror becomes urgent. The flick of his tongue along your earlobe distracts you for a second as your head nudges against his when it tickles making a giggle slip past your lips.

“I gotta go to the bathroom, Eddie.” You inhale the scent of pine lingering in his shampoo, giving him one last nudge with your nose before hopping off the stool. He gives you his best puppy eyes as you get up to leave, pushing out his bottom lip when you tug your dress down.

“Please, I’ll be like three minutes.” You roll your eyes at him but the smile that lights up your face tells him you’re eating it up.

“I’ll be counting every second you're gone, baby.” Holding his hands over his heart for dramatic effect the man at the end of the bar snorts loudly ruining the moment. He earns an annoyed glare from the bartender, “Better hurry up and finish that shit old man, it’s closing time.”

You hear him grunt in response to Eddie’s rude reminder before disappearing into the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. Stickers and writing with permanent marker cover every inch of the dark crimson walls. The doors of the black stalls barely hang from their hinges, dents from many reckless drunk nights at The Foxy Lounge punch random spots into the metal. The bottom of your sneakers stick to the floor with every step to the mirror where more stickers and black scribbles line the surface including a girl named Leigh’s phone number with the note ‘for a good time call’ attached at the end leaving just enough room to see your face.

The space buns on top of your head are messy from Eddie nuzzling his beard into your hair all night. You try to salvage what was left of them by tightening the knots a little more before deciding it's a lost cause. He was probably just going to mess them up more anyway. The thought of Eddie’s hands being free to touch you in every way you’ve wanted all night has you taking a deep breath while you hold your own eyes in the mirror.

“It’s happening, you’re gonna have sex with him. You’re gonna fuck the super hot bartender who flirts like it’s his second language tonight and you’re gonna be confident about it okay? You hear me?” Pointing to yourself in the mirror, the determination in your stare is enough for your tipsy pep talk to work its magic.

Taking one last look at yourself with a nod of your head you pull open the bathroom door ready to take on the rest of the night. Only to stop in your tracks when you notice the stool that was occupied is now empty and every inch of Eddie is also in full view from where he stands in front of the jukebox. Your eyes are insatiable taking in his tall frame like this for the first time all night.

You notice the giant chain that hangs from his belt loop this time, and there’s even more rips in his jeans than before giving you a peek at the pale skin hidden underneath. His shoulder blades move under the thin fabric of his shirt when he clicks his choice on the machine. Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer spills out from the speakers of the bar as he turns on his heels, the smirk that plays on his lips dares you to catch the hint with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Very subtle.” Crossing your arms as if to act immune to his charms, you know he sees right through your facade but he plays along anyway raising his big hands up in the air in mock surrender.

“It’s just one of my favorite songs, I don’t know what kinda ideas you got going on in that pretty little head of yours.” He takes a few more steps towards you slowly closing the gap, daring to be closer to you than he had been all night without a wooden bar separating you.

“Interesting, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Sixpence fan.” Raising your eyebrow, you have to look up at him when he finally takes the last few steps to stand in front of you.

“Why? Cause I’m such a tough guy?” His grin grows wider when he looks down at you catching the roll of your eyes while you uncross your arms opening your body up to him with a laugh.

“I can’t stand you.” Your swat is flirtatious with your palm hitting his chest. He’s quick to catch it, using your hand as leverage to pull you closer, biting back his groan when a breathy gasp slips past your lips when he tucks you into chest. First your giggle and now this? He just knew you were going to sound so pretty falling apart for him.

“I think Craig would call that bluff sweetheart.” He gives you a minute to let his words sink in, throwing his head back with a loud laugh when you huff at him embarrassed. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing. He needed to be dumped, a girl like you deserves someone that's gonna show up when they’re supposed to.”

The sweetness of his words has you melt against him, the playful pull from before surrendering to his touch and you swear there’s hearts in your eyes from the way he looks down at you after saying something like that.

“Thanks for tonight Eddie,” your voice is small when it comes out laced with adoration, and it’s his turn to get bashful making your favorite dimples come out again.

“No problem sweetheart, honestly it’s my fuckin’ lucky night.” Pulling your knuckles to his lips, he places a gentle kiss to the skin stretched over them before letting your hand drop, noting the disappointment on your face that you’re quick to cover up.

“Wanna get some fresh air while I smoke before I close this place down?”

——

Eddie somehow looks even better under the twinkling stars and pink fluorescent lights of The Foxy Lounge sign. The low hum of the electricity filling your ears as you lean against the brick of the building. His eyes are brighter out here, catching them with your own when he looks at you over the end of his cigarette.

He winks when you meet his pointed gaze, the flame of his lighter casting shadows that dance across the strong lines of his jaw, the orange glow highlighting the stubble that covers it. Batting your lashes at him, you push your hips off the wall playfully while he keeps his eyes on you through his entire first drag, only breaking contact for the split second he needs to blow the smoke he inhaled away from you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” His words come out like a warning before he takes another hit.

“How am I looking at you Eddie?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you make sure to say his name extra sweet just how you figured out he likes. He shakes his head with a low chuckle blowing more smoke into the clear night sky.

Despite only taking two drags, he flicks the barely smoked cigarette to the side before closing the distance with a few steps leaving him crowding you against the building. Your chest brushes against his with every shallow breath. Getting lost in the darkening amber inside his eyes, the calloused tips of his fingers catch against the soft skin of your chin. The pad of his thumb pulling the velvet of your bottom lip from between your teeth.

“Like you want me to kiss you.”

Ducking his head down he nudges your nose with his, the heat of his breath fanning against your open mouth. His eyes go from yours back down to your glossed lips silently begging for your permission.

“I think it was you that was hinting at kissing me earlier.” Pushing up on your tiptoes, you smile against him when your lips just barely touch.

“Oh? You think that’s what I was doing hmm?” Asking the question he already knows the answer to, his tongue licks against your top lip as your hands find the material of his shirt, fisting as much of it as you can before yanking him down to collect his lips with an eager mouth, giving up winning whatever game this was.

You swallow his moan when your tongues meet in the middle battling for dominance, teeth scraping, you taste the few puffs of tobacco still lingering on his taste buds as his muscle massages against yours. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he smiles smug into the kiss when your hips search for friction against the denim.

He breaks away from your mouth long enough to start trailing wet kisses down your jaw, the rough hair on his chin rubbing your skin raw as he starts nipping and sucking bruises along your neck. Biting hard enough at your pulse point to have to soothe it with his tongue after the mewls he pulls from you are enough to drive him insane.

Your fingers tangle into the curls at the nape of his neck, giving his roots a pull while you turn your head, opening more of yourself to him. Taking your silent invitation he nips at the dip of your collar bone before lifting his head to press his forehead to yours.

“I gotta close up baby, but then…”rubbing his hands up your curves with a low groan he squeezes at the plush of your hips before finishing his sentence, “I think I promised you pancakes.”

Nodding your head because words are stuck at the tip of your tongue, he grabs your cheeks with a strong grip, smushing your lips together before stealing one last kiss.

——-

Eddie doesn’t give you the attention you’ve grown accustomed to all night when he starts the process of actually cleaning the bar. Your body still buzzes like a live wire from the drinks and the kiss outside. He’d been counting his tips with his back to you for the last ten minutes and you were growing impatient for more of him. You needed it.

Counting the last bill he finally turns around and your thighs press together when you get to see his face again. Shifting in your seat when his eyes barely meet yours, he makes his way to the other end of the bar. Pushing yourself up to lean forward with puckered lips, he ignores your advances passing by without so much as a glance in your direction. Huffing when you plop back in your seat, he flips the knob starting to wash his hands in the mini sink with his back to you again. Your foot taps against the metal of the stool as you watch him grab the scratched up red bucket hanging below and a fresh rag quickly replacing his hands with it to fill up.

You wonder if he can feel your stare when he adds the soap, taking his time while he spins the rag in the steaming water, he starts ringing it out. Arms flexing and suds spilling over his knuckles, you were gonna lose your mind if you didn’t get your hands on him soon.

He makes big swipes as he starts working his way towards you, keeping his eyes so focused on his task you’d think you were invisible if it wasn’t for the smirk that was getting impossible for him to hide. It only grows bigger when he stops in front of you, adding a low hum to his charade purposely wiping around the outline of your hands that were splayed out on the counter ready to push yourself up again.

“Eddie - c’mon!”

You’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t for the laugh that falls easy from his chest when he finally looks at you. His face softens and his eyes darken when he catches your angry pout, your fingers are quick to find his free ones making him tsk at you but he doesn’t pull away.

“My hands are wet baby.” He knew you didn’t care and the teeth showing in his wide grin told you he didn’t either.

Giving into your persistence like it hasn’t been a fight to keep his hands to himself this whole time, he leans forward brushing his nose with yours before nudging it against your cheek so your lips just barely touch. When you go to close the space he pulls back just enough to tease, a small whine escaping you at his games.

“What’s got you so needy, huh?” His words are whispered as he presses with the slightest pressure before pulling back again. “I didn’t kiss you good enough outside, you need more?”

“Please.” Your cheeks burn when you hear how your voice sounds, but his grip on your fingers tighten and a low moan breaks through his front at how desperate you sound just for a kiss.

“Gotta give my girl what she needs.” Your brain gets stuck on the words ‘my girl’ taking you a minute to realize he was finally giving you what you want.

It’s slower than outside, he’s taking his time with you this time. Untangling his fingers from yours, his hand comes up to wrap around the side of your neck. The water feels good on your skin as the pad of his thumb starts rubbing soft lines under your jaw while his tongue swipes at your bottom lip looking for more. You don’t give into his advances on purpose, keeping your mouth closed to get him back for all his teasing you feel his smile grow against your own.

Expecting him to stop and surrender, he only doubles down. Catching your top lip with his bottom, he pulls away just enough for you to open your eyes. God, you wished you kept them closed. The brightness from outside had turned them into nothing but black leaving no trace of the specks of brown from before. The knowledge that he was just as affected by all of this as you sends you reeling. Toes curling inside your sneakers.

“Whining over here for me to give you what you want, and here I am baby, and you’re playing hard to get.” Nipping at your bottom lip he meets your heavy lidded gaze again, “Gonna let me give you what you want?”

He barely lets you finish nodding before he’s on you, the hunger from outside coming back as he leans over the bar to deepen the kiss like you’d been begging him for. Opening your mouth for him without hesitation when he asks for permission again your tongues meet lazily, exploring each other like you didn’t get a chance to before. Pushing up again eager to get more of him he pulls back leaving you breathless with spit slick lips.

Despite the way his chest heaves trying to catch his breath, he does his best to play it cool, smirking when you have no shame chasing for more.

“I gotta finish closing up.” He gives you one more chaste kiss before he starts wiping the rest of the counter down.

Jutting out your bottom lip into a pout, he laughs, throwing out a ‘you’ll survive five minutes baby.’

You leave him alone doing your best not to distract him, despite how much your fingers itch to have him close again. Grabbing the money from the register and the receipts for the night he disappears back into what you could only assume was Rick’s office. When he pops back out he looks a little more relaxed.

“Just gotta wipe the bottles down and then I’m getting the prettiest girl the best pancakes in town.” Clapping his hands together with a rub of his palms, he grabs another rag.

You were starting to hate pancakes. Not that you didn’t want them, you just wanted him more.

“Hey Eddie?” Trying to hide your ulterior motives in the sweetness of your voice, his eyes meet yours almost instantly and they narrow just as quick.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Setting the rag down he leans forward with his palms on the bar he gives you his undivided attention. An intimidation tactic. Unable to help yourself, your eyes trace up the ink covering his arms.

“Teach me how to make that drink?” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you see something flash across his face, fingertips digging into the countertop after the question leaves your mouth.

“Wasting Love?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t call it that now, would you?” Laying it on thick, a slow smile spreads across his face. He saw what you were doing and he was going to fall into your trap willingly.

“Why don’t you come back here then, we’ll make our own.” His voice comes out low, his pupils taking over all the brown, pretty white teeth baring themselves at you.

His gaze is predatory when he watches you jump from the stool, the exaggerated sway of your hips keeps his eyes trained on the curve of your waist as you make your way into his space for the first time all night. Leaning against the back counter, his legs are spread wide leaving little to the imagination on how worked up you had him. His eyebrows raise when he sees the automatic press of your thighs at the sight. It wasn’t fair, you were trying to seduce him, not the other way around. He wasn’t even trying.

As if on cue the jukebox that had been left to play all night clicks, Ginuwine’s Pony pouring out of the speakers as he licks his lips unashamed at the way he’s drinking all of you in like this.

“Gonna teach me how to make something sweet, Eddie?” Trailing a finger along the bar while you close the distance, you drag out the ‘e’ at the end of his name just enough to get him to groan.

His hands grab your waist squeezing just hard enough to feel his strength before using it to pull you flush against him. The material of your dress doing nothing to hide how hard he is pressed into your ass. His lips trace the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath tickling your neck as you push back into him searching for more. The stubble on his face rubs rough against the soft skin of your cheek as he punctuates each word with a roll of his hips.

“The sweetest, baby.”

You bite back your moan when his nose trails up your neck, his lips just barely grazing the warmth of your flesh before they settle back against your ear. You hold onto the wood of the bar in front of you when he hums low, feeling it deep in your core. His calloused fingers start a path up the bare skin of your thigh hiking up your dress when they catch the hem.

“Tell me,” your eyes close when his nose is pressed to your temple as he speaks, “Do you like cherries, baby?” His tongue catches your earlobe sucking it into his mouth, grazing it between his teeth when he lets it back out.

Your knees almost buckle at how good everything feels, the slow rock of his hips never stopping as he plucks at the lace trim of your underwear.

“Y- yeah, I love cherries,” you whimper when his palms lay flat on the outside of your thighs, the cool metal of his rings biting into your skin when he squeezes at the fat working his way back up.

“Of course you do, pretty.” His thumbs hook the sides of your underwear, “You’re just so sweet all the time, huh?” Despite the need for friction, you spread your legs for him wondering if he can hear the way your lips pull apart sticky, arousal coating the inside of your thighs.

He chuckles soft in your ear praising you with a ‘so sweet’ before giving them a tug, letting the red lace fall to the floor. Keeping his hands on your hips, he presses himself against you hard enough to have the heels of your sneakers pick up off the ground. A low ‘fuck’ slipping out from under his breath when you whine a little.

“Red lace? Was Kurt gonna get lucky or was this just a ploy to get me all along, sweetheart?” Your cheeks burn at his question, his low chuckle tickling your ear when he hears you huff out an annoyed breath. “‘Cause if that’s the case all you would’ve had to do is walk through that door on any given night.”

He grinds himself against you one more time, but you can really feel him this time and it makes your legs shake.

“Are we gonna make this drink or do you wanna keep talking about Craig?” The shake of your voice doesn’t go unnoticed despite trying to be sharp with him but the grip on your waist still tightens at the mention of the other man’s name

“Sure we can, if that’s really what you wanna do.” His words taunt you but with one hand holding you against him the other flips a clean cocktail glass onto the bar top with ease, like he wasn’t rock hard digging into your back.

Reaching around, his hand trails up the front of your thigh sending goosebumps across your heated skin. A shiver runs down your spine when he dares to dip between your legs inching his way towards where you want him most.

“We better not mix liquors so why don’t you be a good girl and grab the whiskey for me.” His lips brush against your ear with every word, his hand never faltering on their path even when his fingertips meet your slick folds. Feather light, he traces along your slit, not daring to break the barrier yet. Brain hazy with want you don’t even comprehend what bottle you reach for, blindly grabbing for whatever was in front of you.

“That is tequila, sweetheart. Tsk, tsk, tsk are you even listening to what I’m saying? Or are you too…” Before he finishes his sentence he pushes his index finger past your entrance, your warm walls wrapping tight around his digit, “…distracted?”

Your head lulls back against his chest, your eyes closing when he pushes two knuckles deeper. Your needy whimper makes him kick up again making you grind your ass against him in response. Licking your lips, you try to collect yourself only chasing for more of his finger once.

“N-no, I can do it.” Determined to prove him wrong, you focus just long enough to grab the Jameson bottle, “What’s next?”

He hums in approval while his smile grows against your skin. Deciding to indulge in your stubborn game still, he curves his finger enough just to make you gasp his name.

“Are we keeping this simple, or do you want something a little more—” Adding a second finger, you stretch easily for him now, dripping down his hand, “Complicated?”

You shudder, a moan slipping past your lips while your grip on the bottle tightens so much you're scared it’ll shatter. Fuck, you gotta keep it …

“S- simple - oh.” His thumb finds your clit applying just enough pressure to have your mouth fall open and your brows to knit together, and just as quick as he’s there, he’s gone.

Pulling himself free, he tries his best to ignore the way your pussy tries to suck him back in, your body begging him for more. You whimper at the loss, your eyes opening to remind you where you are.

“I’m gonna need both hands to do this, baby.” His fingers shine with your slick when he wiggles them for show, stepping back just enough for you to see the grin on his face but not enough to get out of your personal space.

Grabbing his wrist, his eyes go dark when he realizes what you’re about to do. Gaze turning half lidded when your mouth opens, huffing out a deep breath when your tongue flattens against the pads of the two fingers that were just buried inside of you. Wrapping your lips around them, your arousal is tangy sweet hitting your taste buds.

Hollowing your cheeks as you suck them clean, you watch the confidence drain from his face, eyes rolling in the back of his head at the sight. The blunt ends of his nails dig through the soft material of your dress and he starts rutting into you with a little more force when you slide your tongue between each knuckle.

“Jesus christ,” his voice is strangled, words coming out through gritted teeth when you let him go with a loud pop.

“Now you can use both hands,” you say innocently, like you didn’t just suck them clean. You let his fingers tug at your bottom lip before dropping his wrist.

He fists a handful of your dress, a low growl rumbling from his chest getting a taste of his own medicine. Licking his lips, his eyes narrow at you before his teeth start to show, mischievous in the low light.

“Well if we want this drink cold, we need to fill this shaker with ice.” Just like the glass, he flips it on the counter one hand never leaving your waist despite his claim.

Pressing his lips to your ear again, he makes sure to let his breath linger a little before he talks, enjoying the goosebumps that appear from such a simple touch.

“Fill it up for me, baby?” Your thighs clench at the deep rasp in his voice, both of his hands finding a home spread out on your thighs.

Nodding your head you slide open the silver metal door of the ice chest below you, bending over more than you needed to to scoop it up into the shaker. He groans loud when you press into him like this, his fingers making quick work to flip the back of your dress up.

“Look at you, so fucking messy for me and I’ve barely touched you.” Grabbing a handful of your ass, he ruts into you, the rough denim hitting your clit in a way that has you moaning his name.

He laughs quietly at your neediness flipping your dress back down when you straighten out. Chests heaving in time with the other, neither one of you was ready to back down. Not yet.

“Might need to unzip those pants.” Looking over your shoulder at him you fake a pout, “Feeling a little strained back there handsome.”

Smugness dripping from the smile on your face, he raises his eyebrows at you in a challenge.

“Since you wanted something simple sweetheart, we just need two more things.” One hand snakes its way back between your legs, squeezing at the inside of your thigh before he lets you go for the first time since you set foot behind the bar.

Craning your neck so you could follow him, you find him bent down grabbing lemon juice from the mini fridge under the shorter back counter. Shutting the door with his foot when he stands up, he throws a wink your way when he grabs the simple syrup.

Setting the bottles in front of you he steals a quick kiss that leaves you wanting more before he grabs the small tub of cherries from the fridge he forgot his first go around.

“Okay, so you’re gonna grab the Jameson, and I want you to pour it out to the count of three for me then cut it off.” He returns to his place behind you, his large hand swallowing yours when it shadows your movements.

Your pour is shaky when he counts low in your ear, nuzzling his nose in your hair calling you a good girl after each successful addition to the simple concoction.

“Alright, now you’re gonna shake it as hard as you can angel.” His hands squeeze your hips for encouragement.

Doing as he says he pulls you against him even harder when your arms start to go wild. Your chest bounces with each movement making you giggle and you almost don’t hear the hitch in his breath at the sight.

He helps you by putting the strainer over the rim of the glass when you’re ready to pour. Mumbling soft words of praise while he nibbles at your ear lobe. The drink is much lighter than the one you had all night, the dark orange turning lemon as the white foam fizzed on top.

“I think I could take your job.” You smirk reaching for the cherries to top it all off.

“You think you could take my job?” He snorts incredulous, watching you unwrap the plastic wrap from the small tub dropping three cherries into the already very sweet cocktail.

“Absolutely.” Grinning while ignoring his stare you reach for another cherry, “No doubt in my mind.” You grab the fruit between your teeth, finally meeting his eyes as you pull the stem, relishing in the burst of sugar and grenadine that erupts against your tongue.

“Tough luck princess, unless you know how to tie that cherry stem in a knot with your teeth, no bar in this town is gonna touch you.” Grabbing his own cherry, he dangles it in front of your frowning mouth for you to bite. Obliging him with it bumps your bottom lip you tug gently, taking the fruit before chewing slowly while he sucks the stem once before it disappears in his mouth.

“I’m calling your bluff now. No one knows how to actually do that.” Daring him to prove you wrong he mutters a ‘watch me’ between his working teeth.

You don’t lose focus on the way his hand on your waist starts to wander, the blunt ends of his nails scratching against the fat of your thigh while his tongue ties the stem like it’s easy. Jaw flexing with each twist of his tongue before he pushes it out to show you, a pleased look on his face when the small knot in the middle comes out perfectly placed.

Swiping it off his tongue with the fingers that were inside you minutes ago, you wonder if he can still taste you when he sets it next to your drink satisfied by the way your jaw drops.

“How do you think I got this job? I’m more than just a cute face.” The touch of his hands grows bolder when they start working their way up your dress, a thickness in the air that wasn’t there before filling your lungs.

“That’s quite the skill set you have there Mr. Munson,” your giggle is breathless, your eyes going from his down to his lips as you try to play it off.

“I can do more than that with my tongue sweetheart, if you wanna find out.” His nose nudges against yours, the smirk on his face making you sweat when his fingers trace up your wet folds again.

Surrendering instantly, you forget all about the drink the two of you made nodding without hesitation the desperation for him all night finally taking over.

“Yeah?” His voice breaks when his thick fingers push into your entrance again feeling just how worked up all his teasing had you.

“Please - Eddie,” the pad of his thumb finds your clit again making you beg, “Fuck.”

“Asking me so sweet, how could I say no to you?” Murmuring against your lips, he finally gives in and kisses you. Wet and sloppy he only does it long enough to take your breath away before dropping to his knees.

His big hands on your hips angle you to face forward, flipping your dress up over your ass again. The air of the bar is still hot against your folds, arousal dripping down your thighs, you’re fully exposed to him now. You hear him suck the skin of his teeth at the sight, a ringed hand coming down just hard enough on your right cheek to make it jiggle before both hands palm the fat.

“I can’t believe you were gonna let anybody else but me have this pussy. Should be a punishable offense.” Pulling your cheeks apart to expose more of you to his hungry eyes, he pushes at the small of your back signaling for you to bend over more for him.

He moans loud enough to make you jump when you listen to his command, even you can hear the sound of your lips pulling apart for him.

“All this for me, baby, fuck, you spoil me.” He wastes no time burying his face between your folds, his talented tongue collecting your juices before finding your clit. The rough hair on his chin rubbing your sensitive skin raw as he shakes his head from side to side.

Squeezing your ass to pull you closer to his face when you try to run away, he sucks your bundle of nerves harder when he gets you back to where he wants you, dipping his nose into your entrance every time.

He does the motions he would do when he ties the cherry stem into a knot against your clit, a strangled moan ripping from your throat when he does it again.

Your hands find purchase on the top of the bar, eyes closed tight while you see white behind your lids. Your nails dig into the wood when his tongue flattens, the lewd squelching of your arousal filling your ears when he pushes his face so deep between your legs you aren’t sure if he can even breathe. The moan that rumbles through his chest and vibrates to your core tells you he doesn’t care. Wrapping his lips tight around your clit he sucks even harder, not caring when your legs start to shake from overstimulation.

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m gonna - fuck!” His name comes out long and drawn out when you fall apart on his tongue. Relentless, his teasing never stops, his hands holding you up while your body starts to shake. Humming low in satisfaction against your cunt.

“I n- need, I need…” willing your eyes to open, your vision’s blurry from how hard he made you cum. Pulling away with a loud smack of his lips, he palms your ass cheeks before craning his neck to try and get a good look at you.

“What do you need, baby?” He nips at the curve of your right cheek before pressing his face to it, dazed from getting what he’s wanted all night completely content.

“I just, I just need you to fuck me,” you don’t recognize the choke in your voice when you whine for him. Whine for more.

“Jesus christ.” His words tickle against your skin when he groans, kneading the soft flesh of your ass one more time before standing up.

His hands are on your hips before you can fully register the change in position, spinning you around and lifting you up he sets you on top of the counter behind the bar. The one where drinks aren’t served and the one that’s low enough for Eddie to slot himself perfectly between your legs.

Eyes blown black while his beard and nose ring shine with your slick, his lips part - swollen and pink from pulling your first orgasm out of you. Bangs clinging to his forehead, his hair is a wild mess on top of his head from your hands. The confident air about him is gone, replaced with nothing but the need to have you. Snapping out of your daze, you’re quick to find the metal of his belt buckle.

His forehead presses to yours, while he watches the way your dainty fingers work the leather out through the loop. The white tips of your nails catch his eye when you undo the button of his jeans and his cock twitches at the thought of them pumping him for all he’s worth.

He hisses when you push the denim down his hips, his hard dick springing out to smack against his shirt that you immediately wish wasn’t there. Precum leaks from the angry looking pink tip while your hands fist the hem of the worn cotton, silently begging him to get rid of it. The big vein that follows the curve of his length makes your mouth water as he obliges your pleas, ripping his shirt off and throwing it somewhere you’d have to find later.

You’re able to really take all of him in like this, his chest is heaving covered with just as many tattoos as the rest of him, the silver chain you’d peeped earlier hanging right in the dip between his pecs. Your eyes follow the dark patch of hair that leads to his cock, long with the kind of girth that you know is going to be a stretch, a strangled whine bubbles out of you at the sight while your thighs spread begging for him.

“God, I want you so bad,” you whine wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him even closer giving into your animalistic instincts.

“I know baby, me fuckin’ too.” He pumps his cock a few times groaning loud, squeezing hard at the base before pressing the head between your dripping lips. Mesmerized at how they wrap around his tip, his precum mixes messy with your arousal making lewd noises as he sweeps it through your folds.

Body shaking every time he hits your clit, you finally hook your ankles growing impatient when he teases your entrance.

“Fuck. Me.” You get out through gritted teeth, the lopsided grin he’d been giving you all night turns cocky when he pushes the tip in, your head lulls back at the invasion, the silk of your walls desperate to start sucking him deeper.

“Not so sweet now are you, huh?” Pushing himself all the way in, his rough thatch of pubic hair hits your clit when he bottoms out. His confidence falters for a second when a deep moan rips through his chest at the feeling. “So fuckin’ tight baby - shit.”

Your nails dig half crescent moons into his inked skin while you adjust to his size, his nose skimming against your cheek while he whispers how good you take him when your walls start to milk him, your body letting him know it was okay to finally move.

“Feel so good, Eddie, fuck - so good.” Your hips start a slow rock, feeling every ridge and curve of him. Your dress sits rucked up at your waist giving a perfect view of the way you take him, and it’s even better than what his imagination had come up with all night.

He lets you use him for a minute, big hands resting on your waist — content with just watching the way you coat his cock with everything you have left over for him from the first time he made you cum.

“That feels good, huh?” Cooing at the way your brows knit together and your mouth falls open, he picks up the pace, taking control.

Pulling you all the way to the edge, his strokes get deeper, the tip of him hitting the spot that you know Craig would have never found. He pulls his cock out half way, relishing how your velvet walls try to keep him in place, he holds his composure before pushing back in, filling you to the brim. Addicted to the way it makes you gasp his name and arch your back, your body asks him for more when you’re too cock drunk to get the words out.

The straps of your dress start slipping down your shoulders with every thrust, your breasts bouncing just begging for his attention. His cock twitches inside you, it's almost too much. Greedy for more despite fighting the urge to cum, he tugs the front of your dress down to reveal a matching bra to the panties on the floor. Hips stuttering for a moment he growls at the reminder of your date before tugging the lace down, your nipple pebbling instantly for him before he takes it in the heat of his mouth.

Pushing yourself closer, needing more, your hands find their way to bury themselves in his curls, holding him close. You needed him close. His tongue flicks at your sensitive bud and it makes you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Your hips finding a way to match his strokes, reigniting the flames deep in your gut. God, he was gonna make you cum again.

He grunts around your breast, spit dripping down your soft skin from his ministrations while the snap of his hips start to get harsher and you know he’s nearing his end. He lets your nipple go with a loud pop before his hand comes up to grip your chin, his lips finding yours in a frantic mess of teeth and battling tongues.

The wood creaks underneath you from the force of his thrusts and the bounce of your ass to meet them. Mouths tangled, you swallow each other's ragged breaths, both of you desperately searching for your end when his fingers find your clit. Rubbing circles with just enough pressure to have your body start to shake against his, he nips at your bottom lip grunting when he feels the way it makes you flutter around him.

“Come on baby, give me another one. Be my sweet girl again and tell me how good I make you cum.” His fingers slip against your clit, fingers wet from how worked up he had you but his words are enough to have your world stop for a second.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Ed-“ Going blind behind your closed eyes he coaxes your second orgasm out of you with a silent scream falling onto his turned up lips. Proud of his work, his hips start picking up their pace inching closer to his own release he’d been fighting off since going down on you.

“God, - fuck I’m close - where d-do you-?” Sweat drips down his forehead while he struggles to find his words, his impending orgasm making him short circuit.

“Inside, shit - please, I need it, Eddie.” Still needy and barely coming down, your legs around his waist tighten their hold, locking him in place while you use the last of your strength to help get him there.

“Whatever you’re doing - holy shit , Jesus - I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” His hips press hard against yours when his cock twitches, spilling warm inside your greedy walls that don’t stop asking him for more. His face hides in your neck, the heat of his breath fanning against your sweat kissed skin while his body shakes with his release.

The roll of your hips never stops, just slowing enough to make him shiver after he starts softening, spent inside of you. You know there’s a mess starting to drip but neither one of you has the energy to move just yet. His lips start leaving small kisses along your neck, nose nudging against the space behind your ear and you can feel his smile against your cheek before he finally lifts his head up. The brown in his eyes return to a warm auburn like before when they meet yours.

“Rick is gonna fucking kill me if he ever finds out what happened on this counter tonight.” Rolling your eyes, you snort at his joke before shoving against his chest.

“You’re telling me you don’t fuck all your cute customers behind the bar, Eddie?” Batting your lashes at him, he squeezes your hips with a smirk.

“Only, the really, really cute ones. I take them to get pancakes at IHOP around the corner, too.” Something shifts in his eyes and you think for a second you might see self doubt in them for the first time all night, “That is, if they still want to.”

“Well lucky for you, I only let bartender’s from The Foxy Lounge take me out.” Nudging your nose against his, your smile touches his lips.

“Sweetheart, you know I’m the only bartender here right?” Grinning like someone who just won the lottery, he quickly gets rid of the space between you, kissing you like it too.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fan fiction #whatta man #my writing

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schoopsahoy · 1 year

Text

more than just friends

steve harrington x female!reader {3.1k} you and your best friend have gotten into the habit of making out, as long as there's no touching. but that's easier said than done. no use of y/n, not proofread 18+ mdni

cw: mutual masturbation, unprotected p in v sex

No touching.

That was the rule that you and Steve had settled on, because making out with your best friend is totally okay as long as there’s no touching. Sure, a hand on a waist or a cheek is alright - anything more is off limits.

Your rule worked fine at first, but recently the two of you seem to keep pushing the boundary. Just a little each time - like the way you’ll leave hickies on each other and not make much of an attempt to hide them, or how Steve has you underneath him with a leg in between your thighs and there’s just enough pressure to make your head a little dizzy.

His mouth is kissing softly against the lilac bruise he’s left under your jaw, and you’re having to use all your self control to not press yourself down against his leg for the friction your body is craving. You feel so tightly wound, the fact you know it can’t go any further only makes you crave it more, your stomach in knots and heart pounding in your chest.

“Steve.” It comes out as a whine, all desperate and you’d probably be embarrassed if it were anyone else who was kissing down your neck. You only get a hum as a response, Steve too focused on marking up your skin to realize you weren’t just saying his name as some encouragement. “Steve.” You’re a little firmer this time, voice not as breathy as before and it’s enough to finally bring his attention back to your face.

“Hm, what? Y’wanna stop?” His lips are all slick and swollen from his work on your throat, pupils a little blown as he stares down at you. He pushes some of your hair out of your face, loose strands that he can tuck behind your ear and the gentle act only has you aching more, the coil in your stomach twisting that bit tighter.

“No, no.” You breathe your words out, eyes closing as you almost laugh at the suggestion. “S’like, the opposite of what I want.”

Steve’s still stroking mindlessly at your hair, all soft and without a second thought. “You want more hickies?” His brow pinches with confusion, face a little scrunched up and you hate that all you can think about is how cute he is, how much you want him. “‘Cause I can do that, but y’might get in trouble at work.”

“No, not that.” You sigh, pressing your lips together as you battle with yourself over saying what you actually mean. “I want more, y’know?”

“More?” He watches you nod below him, cheeks all flushed and you can’t hold his gaze. “What, like you wanna get off?” His voice is a little teasing, a grin tugging on his lips as you try to hide your face with your hands.

“God, I d’know.” You groan, suddenly all shy even though you know you don’t have to be. “I guess, maybe, yeah.” Steve taps your arms, a silent signal for you to uncover your face and you do, reluctantly. “I know we said no touching, but like, I feel like I’m gonna explode or somethin’.” You try to cover how serious you are with a laugh, hoping it’ll make it easier to play off if Steve completely shuts you down.

“I mean, there’s ways around that.” The way Steve’s smiling at you has your stomach doing somersaults.

“There is?”

“Sure, if you really want to.” He leans down to press a kiss on your lips, something small and barely there that has you chasing his mouth for more when he pulls away. “D’you want to?”

“Don’t be a dick, Steve.” You whine, head tipping back because of course he’s dragging it on, drawing it out of you as if you’re not already so tightly wound that you feel like you might snap any second. “Go on then, what's your loophole?”

“We can just get ourselves off, together.” He shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You feel like your body is pressing harder into your mattress now, like gravity suddenly got stronger and you’re stuck in your spot with no way to move and Steve is looking down at you with his big brown eyes and a smirk tugging at his lips. You think your skin must be hot to the touch at this point, your temperature climbing and climbing because you’re about to get off with your best friend. You kind of wish you weren’t sober right now, craving the liquid confidence that comes with the buzz from a couple of drinks.

“Yeah, okay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, looking up at Steve through your lashes suddenly all shy but the way he’s looking at you, all fondness and lust and like he’s been craving this too, makes you feel a little more confident.

As soon as you say the words, his lips are back on yours. It’s all hot and heavy with the way he’s licking into your mouth, different to how he usually kisses you - a little dirty and it’s enough to rip the air from your lungs and have you panting whenever he pulls away.

“Don’t be shy, baby, it’s just us.” He whispers against your lips, breath tickling your skin and the way he calls you baby has your hairs standing on end. He takes one of your hands in his own, guiding it down your body towards your already wet core. “You got it, just relax.” He coos, only moving his hand once you take the step and dip yours beneath your pyjama shorts.

You start slow, lazy circles rubbed over your panties because you’re still a little shy with it all. Steve’s placing soft kisses all over your face and neck, mumbling words of encouragement as he palms at himself through his sweatpants. Neither of you brave enough to shed any clothing yet, because sure you’ve been friends for years and spent countless summer days by Steve’s pool wearing far less but this was different.

You try to stifle your moans by biting down on your bottom lip, a little whimper trying to escape each time you brush over your clit and Steve can see the way your chest hitches as you try to control it.

“Y’don’t have to be shy, not with me.” He nudges his nose against yours, voice all soft and all you can manage is to nod wordlessly at him as he sits up to pull his shirt over his head. He tosses it to your bedroom floor, not that you saw where it went because you can’t stop staring at him - the way his muscles move with each motion, skin all tanned from the summer sun and you really, really hate your no touching rule now.

You squeeze your eyes shut before wriggling out of your own top, it’s a little easier when you can pretend like your best friend isn’t watching your every move. You do, however, regret not wearing a bra because you’re suddenly feeling all too exposed and a little - or maybe a lot - self conscious.

You go to try and cover yourself, one eye barely open to peer at Steve who’s looking at you like you’re the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re so hot.” His voice sounds spent, all breathy and strained and you suddenly feel a lot less exposed. If you weren’t already so hot with it all, you’re sure all your blood would be running to your cheeks.

Your eyes travel down to watch Steve stroking himself beneath his sweatpants, still constrained by them and his boxers but you can see how hard he is and feel your core clenching around nothing just at the thought of him.

It all seems to move so quickly once you start shedding clothes, like stripping back that layer has taken away all the shyness and uncertainty you felt and replaced it with some insatiable longing for something more, anything more.

You finally dip beneath your panties, wet fabric cold against your skin as you run a finger through your slick, gathering it up before rubbing tight circles against your clit. You can’t help but whimper with it all, the way Steve’s looking at you as he touches himself and how sensitive you are already, body reacting to each touch like they’re laced with electricity. “Oh my god.” You tip your head back, blinking hard as you try to breathe through the way you can feel the pressure build up in your stomach.

“Jesus, fuck, y’look so good.” Steve’s kneeling in between your legs, his free hand against your cheek and thumb rubbing softly against your skin. “Y’gonna take those off for me?” He nods down to your shorts. “Gonna let me see you?”

“Fuck, Steve.” You mewl, eyes meeting his as you continue rubbing your clit. “Y’want that? Wanna watch me touch myself?” You’re not sure where this faux confidence has come from, because it even shocks you when you say it but the way Steve reacts - a deep groan of your name and his pace against himself increasing - has your head spinning.

“God, yeah, please, I want that.” You don’t need anymore encouragement, hands tugging your shorts and panties down your legs to be discarded to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You go to tug and Steve’s waistband, to even the playing field so you’re not the only one fully exposed, but hover your hand there because the lines are all blurred now and you don’t know what’s okay anymore. You think you might be a little bit fucked. “You wanna help me? Y’can do that, it’s okay.”

His tones all soothing and his hand guides yours back to his sweatpants so you can pull them down his legs along with his boxers. You knew Steve was big, you’ve felt him get hard when you’ve been straddling him when you make out, but actually seeing him has you clenching around nothing again, your body desperate to be filled by something other than your own fingers.

It’s all a little messy, because Steve’s leaning over you and kissing all down your neck and onto your chest and your hands keep knocking against each other as you both try to chase your highs. It’s driving you a little mad each time his hand bumps yours, so close to your cunt but never quite getting there, the frustration building in you as you dip a finger inside yourself in an attempt to get some sort of relief.

Steve looks down between the two of you, watches you try to settle on a rhythm as you pump your finger into yourself and whine at how it’s never quite right. Like it’s just missing that spot that would finally send you tumbling over the edge, so close to being what you need but falling short each time.

“Steve.” The way you say his name has him groaning again, because you sound so desperate and needy and his cock is so close to your cunt and God does he want to fuck you. Abandon all the boundaries you’ve spent so long obeying because you look so perfect underneath him and he just wants to look after you, make you feel good like he knows he can. “Please.”

It’s like you don’t need to say anything more, he already knows what you’re asking for, what you want from him. “Please what, baby?” He gives you that stupid grin as he rubs the tip of his cock against your core, running it up and down your slick eliciting a whine from you each time it nudges your clit.

“Want you.” You’re so wound up that you can barely force any words out, brain all muddled from how desperate you are to just be touched. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck, yeah, y’sure?” You just nod at him, eyes all wide and chest heaving and he can see the way you squirm with each movement he makes against you, so sensitive and wound up. “Y’gotta tell me, use your words.”

“M’sure, Steve, please.” You’re practically begging now, blinking hard because you can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and you don’t want to cry but you’re just so needy and your body feels like it’s on fire with it all.

Steve kisses your temple, thumb swiping under your eyes where the skins a little wet from the tears that are welling up. “Oh, honey, don’t cry, I’ve got you.” He hushes you, hand moving from your face to hold yours as he uses the other to line up against your entrance. “Gonna make you feel so good, yeah?”

As soon as he starts to press into you, it’s like all the pent up energy inside your stomach is ready to release. The way his cock stretches you out, slow thrusts so it doesn’t hurt you too bad as he kisses you all soft and you find yourself thinking that this doesn’t really feel like you’re just friends messing about anymore.

Your free hand finds purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and leaving little half moons there that’ll probably still be there in the morning. Your breath hitches in your chest with each thrust, a little whimper spilling from your mouth as Steve squeezes your hand. “Doin’ so good for me, takin’ me so well.” His words are whispered against your skin, and you feel him hum against it when he finally bottoms out inside you.

He sits there for a moment, letting you adjust to him but he can feel you clenching you around him and it sends his head spinning a little. You rock your hips against him, your voice still caught in your throat so this is the best way you can think of to tell him to move. He seems to get it though, a small chuckle at your antsy movements before he starts to rock his hips into you.

It’s still a slow pace, agonizingly so almost. Because you’re so tightly wound at this point, teetering on the edge just to be pulled back over and over and never quite get there. You don’t say anything though, don’t push for Steve to move faster or harder because he’s still holding your hand and mumbling praises into your neck over and over and it feels about as soft as fucking your best friend can.

After a couple minutes he does quicken his thrusts, you still mewling underneath him each time the tip of his cock nudges the soft spot inside you that you can never quite reach yourself. His free hand hitches one of your legs up higher, fingers spread wide against the soft skin of your thigh so he can bring it up to his waist and get deeper inside you.

“Jesus, Steve, feels so good.” You manage to mumble something out, words a little slurred from how tight your chest feels because you’re already so close and your heart is beating so hard you can almost hear it. “M’so close.” Everything you say comes out as a whine, not that you mean it to, but Steve likes it. Likes that it’s him who’s got you so blissed out.

“Yeah? Y’gonna cum for me? Such a good girl.” He soothes, voice all sickly sweet but still a little filthy. He thrusts into you harder now, watching the way your back arches up off the bed for him when he gets real deep. When his fingers start rubbing against your clit you know you’re done for, the messy circles against your nerves and the way he’s buried so deep inside you and looking at you like you’re the only important thing in the world right now is all too much for you.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” You moan as you feel the tether inside you finally snap, wound so tightly that when it finally releases it has you seeing white as you squeeze your eyes shut and grip onto Steve even harder than before.

“You’re okay, I got you.” Steve keeps rocking his hips into you through your high, letting you squeeze his hand so tight that you would definitely feel bad about it if you weren’t so preoccupied. “So pretty for me, y’so perfect.” He keeps running his mouth with praises as he chases his own high, thrusts getting a little sloppy as he gets closer, feeling you squeeze him as you came enough to have him almost there already. “I’m so - fuck - m’so close, where should I cum?” He’s blinking hard to try and keep himself controlled enough to at least last until you tell him.

You’re still trying, and failing, to catch your breath. Body still feeling like it’s charged with electricity, all your nerves on high alert as you try to come down from your climax whilst Steve still pounds into you.

“M’on the pill.” You exhale, words barely audible over the sounds of Steve fucking into you. “Can cum inside, want you to.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Steve groans, head tucked into the crook of your neck as his movements become a little sloppier and fall out of rhythm as he reaches his own climax, hips stuttering as he whispers about how good you feel and how pretty you are as he spills inside you.

He stays inside you after he’s finished, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath amidst pressing gentle kisses to your face. You don’t want to admit how much you like it, not just the fucking but the intimacy of it all. Your hands are still intertwined, fingers locked with each other and neither of you make any attempt to unhook them.

“Think we did that wrong.” You mumble, a shy smile on your lips as Steve pauses his kisses to look at you. His eyes still look all dark and wide, thick lashes blinking slow at you as he grins, shaking his head.

“Yeah, think the whole ‘no touching’ things kinda out the window now.” He glances down to where he’s still buried inside you, and despite everything it’s still enough to have you feeling all shy. “I don’t mind though, if you don’t.” He looks at you, eyes full of affection and a soft smile as he waits for you to answer. It’s always no pressure with Steve, never pushing you for anything or making you uncomfortable - you’re always his first priority. It makes your heart ache a little, in a good way.

“I don’t mind.” It’s a roundabout way of expressing your feelings, neither of you pushing it any further right now because it’s enough. You know each other so well that you don’t need to say more, reading between the lines and letting things happen slowly. Maybe you’re not as fucked as you thought you were.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut

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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

Text

diy

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, video recording sex, male and female receiving oral, a bit of cum play, p in v sex, unprotected p in v sex, overstimulation, light bondage (request)

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl

“look up at the camera for me pretty girl.” rafe calls, making your eyes flicker up to his cellphone pointed down at you, keeping eye contact as you sink your mouth down his cock, moaning as you come back up.

you pull off with a smile, wrapping your hand around his length instead and stroking as you flick your tongue out to lap over the tip. rafe moans above you, showing his appreciation at your movements, especially when you dip back down and start to bob your head.

you’ve already been sucking rafe off for a while, and he told you he wanted to capture his climax on video for when you are on vacation with your family next week, sadly leaving him alone with his left hand.

“cum on my face.” you tell rafe when you need to pull off for some air. his cock simply takes up too much space in your mouth and throat for you to keep him in for too long without getting dizzy due to lack of oxygen.

“fuck, yeah baby.” rafe reaches down to reach his hand around his length, beginning to stroke himself as you pull your tits out of your shirt so rafe gets it on video as well.

you stick your tongue out when the first droplet hits your face, followed by ropes of rafes cum as he releases all over. you moan as some lands on your tongue, greedily dragging your finger through the cum and licking it off as rafe rides out his high.

“god, i’m gonna have fun jerking off to that while you’re gone.” rafe says with a laugh.

“can i get my phone and video?” rafe asks, making you whine. he’s already been teasing you for the past two hours, starting with touching your thigh under the table and dinner and then moving riskily close to your cunt before taking you back to his room and kissing all over your body except where you really want it.

“i don’t care, just want you in me.” you say, and rafe laughs at your desperation, always so easy to break down into a whiny whore when you are deprived of an orgasm.

you hear rafe walk away to get his camera, but keep your face pressed against the mattress, staying in the position at the end of the bed on your hands and knees, or at least it was your hands when rafe originally put you in that position, your weary body has since slumped.

“gonna get a close up of your pretty cunt first.” rafe says, holding the camera up to your pussy and rubbing his fingers through your folds before spreading them, showing the most intimate parts of you, but you trust rafe to have them.

he stands, angling the camera downward now as he lines his cock up with your entrance before sinking in with a satisfied moan.

“record me eating you out.” rafe says, tossing the phone up next to you on the bed.

“i-i can’t.” you whine, flexing your hands that are still tied to the headboard with his necktie.

“fuck, i forgot.” rafe groans, like it’s an inconvenience to him, like he’s not the one that tied you up in the first place.

“i can’t believe you’re going away again.” rafe complains as he slides up the bed to undo the knot. “you just came back a month ago and now another vacation? what am i supposed to do when i crave your sweet pussy?”

“i’ll only be gone for like three days- oh!” you gasp when rafe doesn’t waste any time, burying his face in your cunt. you barely have the head space to grab the phone, but manage to begin recording, pointing the camera down at rafe as his mouth devours you.

you’ll have to remember to ask rafe to send this video too you later, because as much as you like to tease him for needing to make homemade porn for him to get off to, you need your needs met too when you are apart.

“how many times have you cum tonight?” rafe asks, his cock pistoning in and out of you.

“five.” you say breathlessly, hips undulating, unable to tell if you are trying to get away from the pounding of his cock or move closer to it.

“and i’ve recorded every single one of them.” rafe smirks, knowing this one in particular will be a favorite of his to look back on with the moans and screams he managed to drag out of you.

you glance to the camera, set up on a tripod that he got specifically for this purpose as rafes hands grip your hips so tight it hurts, but you can’t focus on that pain, or the burning in your spread thighs, just on his cock spreading you wide open.

rafe moves his thumb to rub over your clit, and this time you do try to get away as you squirm up the bed, unsure if you can handle another orgasm.

“come on baby, one more.” rafe says.

“that’s what you said after that last one!” you complain, but you can tell by the pulsing off his cock inside of you that rafe isn’t far from his own orgasm.

“don’t be a brat, come on, cum for me now and for all the times i watch this while you’re gone.” rafe says, flicking over your clit in rapid motion.

your body arches off the bed, unable to hold back as you follow his command, somehow wringing a sixth orgasm out of your body. upon feeling you constrict around him, rafe finally lets the flood go, filling you up as he pounds into you until he can’t move anymore, collapsing to the side of you.

you both lay in bed, breathing heavily. cum drips out of you onto the comforter but that's a problem for the morning as rafe rolls onto his back, pulling you into him.

“the camera is still recording.” you say, laying your head against rafes chest.

“i just pounded your pussy red, i don’t think i would call that soft.”

“maybe i should record you sleeping so i can fall asleep with you while you’re gone.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

you tsk with a soft laugh. “imagine if people knew that big bad rafe cameron was such a softie.”

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot

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l0velysmut · 1 month

Note

can you write about inexperienced neteyam having sex for the first time and hes a whimpering moaning mess?

neteyam x fem!na’vi!reader

contains: poorly written short smut, aged up!neteyam, inexperienced neteyam, virginity loss, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie.

wc: 740 unedited

You and Neteyam lay in the mossy bed on the ground of the forest. The light was dim, and the breeze was chilling but both of your bodies were heated and needy so nothing about the environment around you mattered at that moment.

“Are you sure?” He stares at you, holding his cock in his hand and slowly dragging it up and down your slit before pressing it to your entrance when you nod your head.

“Use your words, sevin.” He says in a low voice.

“I’m sure. I want this, Neteyam. I want you. I need you.” Your words and the way they came out in such a desperate tone was enough to make him cum all over your pussy, but he tried to calm his breathing before slowly pushing the tip in because he didn’t want to embarrass himself.

He sighed out in pleasure as your cunt engulfs his tip, clenching around it. His eyes are closed as he leans down and presses his forehead to your shoulder, feeling your hands snake into his braids.

Your hips bucked against him in a way to tell him to push in deeper, and when he did, he could’ve sworn he was seeing stars. This new feeling was so overwhelming to the point where Neteyam was getting dizzy. His mind was baffled at how good this felt; he always imagined how you felt when he would jerk off to the thought of you, but the real thing is so much more then he was expecting.

“Oh my- Fuck…” He whimpers when he finally bottoms out, his ears falling flat against his head once he realizes how pathetic he must’ve sounded. You giggle softly, stroking his hair as you clench around him to stimulate him a bit.

He feels his cheeks get awfully hot and hides his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and not being able to lift himself off.

“You can move, Neteyam.” You tell him softly.

“I know, just.. Just give me a second. It’s- You- Shit. You just feel really fucking good.” He stutters out shakily. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, making you hum in pleasure.

He inhaled your scent deeply before drawing his hips back then pushing back into you, his cock passionately submerged in your wet heat that sang out for him with each sloppy thrust.

You moaned and he lifted his head to look at you which was a mistake because the second he saw your face contorted with pleasure, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his length spurted out long and thick streams of cum into you. He whined and whimpered into your skin, holding onto you for dear life as intense waves of euphoria crashed over him.

“Oh, great mother. Forgive me. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ He began to ramble, but you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him on the lips. He melted into the kiss, pushing his body further against you which caused his cock to push further into you. You could feel his warm cum inside of you, and you clenched around him which made him moan into the kiss.

“It’s okay. It’s your first time; I was kinda expecting you to finish fast.” You tell him and he looks away in embarrassment, but you tilt his chin up to look at you. “If you’re able to handle it, maybe I could get on top and we could keep going?”

Your suggestion nearly made him cum inside you again, and he nodded quickly, cock twitching inside you. You smiled and flipped the two of you over, his calloused hands resting on the plush on your hips, squeezing as if telling you to move.

“If it’s too much, just tell me, okay?” You say, and he nods, mumbling a small ‘okay’ before you began to roll your hips.

He sighed out, wanting to savor this moment and live in it forever. He dreaded the moment you lifted yourself up and off of his cock, so he pushed you down onto him the best he could whilst supporting your hips to bounce up and down his length.

This was it. This was the feeling he’s been needing for so long. Something to take his mind off of all the responsibilities that stressed him out, something to use as a stress reliever. And, thank Eywa he had you now.

#avatar #neteyam #avatar smut #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam smut #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #avatar the way of water #l0velysmut #neteyam x you #atwow #smut

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netegf · 8 months

Text

So We Won't Forget

pairing: f!reader x rafe cameron

plot: you meet rafe cameron at a grief support group while he struggles with the loss of his father. he's trying to be a better man, and you can't help but love him for it.

warnings: 18+, sensitive topics such as death and mourning, use of Y/N, fluff and flirting, challenging sibling dynamics, smut (P in V, size kink, lots of praise, some teasing), mentions of past drug use, rafe is reforming (?) lol

word count: 7.7 k

Rafe didn’t know what he was thinking.

He knew Barry had given him the bright pink flier as a joke more than anything else. And he’d taken it as a joke, at least after the initial roll of his eyes, too. Ended up crumpling the sheet of paper and chucking it into the garbage can near his bedside, muttering some iteration of ‘yeah man, that’s real funny’.

His dad was dead. For real, this time. He didn’t need some corny grief support group where people sat in a circle and sang their sorrows.

He needed a fucking time machine.

Still, he had done it.

Sleep was getting harder and harder to find these nights. The temperature never felt right.

Too hot when he pulled white sheets up and over his bare hips and too cold when he let them slip down to his feet.

He rolled his body over to his side with the intention of scrolling through his phone which had become increasingly dry since his return from Guadeloupe.

But then his hand was reaching down into the garbage can and he was squinting in the dark to make out an address he’d never seen before.

It was no wonder why. The Church was so far in the outskirts of Figure 8, it might as well have been on the Cut. But it wasn't, and that was one of the only reasons why he'd reconciled with making the drive.

It was a shoddy building with peeling paint and a slanted roof, and it took him a whole twenty minutes to step outside of his truck and through the front doors.

The place gave him the chills. He felt better thinking it was because it was so run-down and he was a Kook through and through, but a part of him knew it was for a different reason entirely. He wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t burst into flames upon entry. It wasn't long ago that he’d melted a fucking cross for Christ’s sake.

Like the man standing at the entry-way can read his mind, he claps a hand on Rafe’s shoulder and flashes him a reassuring smile. He must've been staring guardedly at the blocked off pew.

“We just use the space on this side of the building.” The man says, gesturing to the large room with groups of scattered chairs and a long table at the back with pastries and refreshments. “There’s no, uh,” he clears his throat, then continues with a knowing glance, “religious affiliation.”

Rafe manages a nod, his fingers feeling numb and jittery all at once. His eyes rake over the room once more. More specifically, the people in it.

Some of them look like they’re itching to talk, while others look so boxed up it makes the silence in the room more chilling. Rafe decides he connects more with the latter, but there’s a spot he can’t quite reach at the swell of his shoulder blade that suddenly feels like it could use a good scratch.

“I’m Leon, by the way. The program manager.” The man, Leon, introduces himself. “Help yourself to some snacks, then grab a seat. We’ll start shortly.”

Leon shoots Rafe another smile, then saunters over to the front of the room where he sits down by a dingy whiteboard.

Briefly, he wrestles the impulse to sprint out through the double-doors and scrub the very essence of the place off his body in a scalding shower. Sterile and dizzying, just how he likes them.

But then his feet are trudging clumsily toward the snack table, and he downs a hot cup of coffee that splashes uncomfortably against the acid in his stomach before filling an empty chair at the back.

"Let's see. As you take your seats and feel out the room, some of you might be asking yourselves why you even bothered to show up. Why don't we take a moment to remind ourselves why?"

To you, the introduction by the man you now know as Leon leaves something to be desired. A reminder wouldn't be necessary because forgetting wasn't the problem.

The problem was your best friend was gone, and nothing in the world could get your mind off it. It was a strange kind of irony, really, talking about her so you could end up talking about her less.

What better place and time was there to mourn than the beautiful Outer Banks in the summer?

At least, that's what your mother had said in a chipper tone as you rode the ferry off the mainland together.

Taking in the ambience of your surroundings, you seriously doubt she's right. The AC is blasting and you still feel sweat beading on your forehead. The place had the humidity of a greenhouse and none of the natural light.

"We'll start our conversation small. With a partner." Leon says, breaking you out of your trance. "I'll walk around the room and pair you up."

The friendly man that Leon is, it takes him a while to get to the back of the room where he pauses in front of you.

"Alright, so that leaves... you two!"

Leon points vaguely to a figure sitting at the far corner, who lifts his head for a second to meet your eyes. A flash of blue before he looks back down again. You notice that he's not moving a muscle and probably doesn't intend to.

"Guess I'll come to you." You mutter shortly under your breath, dragging your chair behind you as you move closer.

Taking a seat in front of the quiet stranger, the first thing you notice is that the top of his head is pretty. Then he lifts his chin and you come to realize that the rest of him is even prettier.

Dirty blonde hair that seems to be growing out after a cut sticks to his forehead, slightly damp with sweat. Angular jaw, beautiful blue eyes, soft pink lips pressed into a frown. He gazes at you suspiciously.

"Rafe."

Your eyebrows furrow, temporarily stalling your ogling. "What?"

"My name." He squints at you, pointing a slender finger to the whiteboard on which Leon has messily scrawled the words: 'introduce yourselves and explain why you're here'.

"Rafe." You repeat, trying the name out in your mouth. It feels harsh but satisfying. Like a swear word. "I'm Y/N."

He nods, but doesn't say anything else, his eyes flickering between the floor and a black truck you can make out through the window - like he's worried it might disappear.

You steal a glance at the pairs around you who seem to be getting far deeper into conversation than the two of you.

"I think we're supposed to talk." You mumble.

Rafe nods again, and his lips part for a moment, but then they close again. You fight the urge to glare at Leon for dooming your progress before it could even begin.

"I can go first." You offer with a shaky breath. "I'm here because my best friend, Stacy... died. It was, um, a car crash."

Hating the way the silence intensifies between you, you continue.

"I don't really know what to say. Just that she was kind of my favourite person. And she, uh... always made me feel like I was the only one in the room, you know? She just wanted to make you laugh and it was like nothing else mattered. Just us, living in our own little world."

Rafe feels a certain tightness in his chest, pressing down on his sternum.

"You're lucky." He scoffs.

It makes your face fall.

He'd tried to make it sound like a good thing, but it came out ugly, like it always seemed to.

"I'm... lucky that my friend died in a violent car crash? Gee, Rafe. Your empathy has no bounds.”

The turn of your voice makes Rafe's spine stiffen, his brows stiffly pinched together as he attempts to soothe over his words.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, okay?"

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

Suddenly, the lips that you once thought were pretty look more like what they really are. Annoying, when they move. His crisp blue polo and stupidly expensive watch are starting to get on your nerves.

"I just meant that you - look, at least you had her. That's more than a lot of people can say."

That was rich coming from a guy that looked like he had everything in the world at his disposal.

"Who'd you lose? Your gardener?" You quip.

Rafe stares bitterly then looks down at his lap where his fingers are fidgeting.

"My dad."

You feel your stomach churn with guilt, face getting hot.

It's the way he says it that pains you. Like it hurts him physically to get the words out. You know that feeling like the back of your hand. You wish you didn't, but you do.

Suddenly, Rafe's rigidity feels less abrasive and more heartbreaking. You wonder how long it's been, hesitant to ask because it might make you feel worse. Maybe you deserved it for leading with pettiness instead of compassion. You remind yourself that you're grieving and messy, too.

"Oh." You choke out when an apology feels tight on your tongue.

He lifts his head up to meet your eyes, chewing on his bottom lip. "Yeah. Oh."

"I shouldn't have said that, Rafe. I'm sorry."

"No, I get it. I shouldn't have said that either. That way, at least. I'm trying to be better at... not saying the wrong thing." He breathes, shoulders falling. "I fuck it up constantly."

"You're not, you didn't." You shake your head. "I'm just on edge. Plus, I get really cranky when I'm hot, and it's boiling in here. Promise."

You feel a sense of relief when he cracks a smile at that, wanting to savour it.

"And...," you trail off, catching his attention.

"And?"

Your gaze runs over him, from the top of his handsome face, down to his shiny designer boots.

"You're textbook Kook. I guess my whole 'eat the rich' thing got the best of me."

Rafe laughs softly, feeling a rush in his chest. For a second, he's not thinking about a certain series of events that looms over him everywhere he goes like some sort of 'never off the clock' paralysis demon. Nor any of the bad decisions he made that led him up to that point and drove him deeper into the ground after the fact. He remembers back when he was just a regular asshole. An arrogant rich kid with poor impulse control and penchant for adrenaline.

He's debated if he would choose to go back thousands of times.

Part of him wants to.

He had a lot less to worry about. More parties to throw, more girls to take up to his bedroom after very little flirting on his part, more blow to keep him heady and distracted.

Help keep his mind off of the arguments with his dad.

His dad, who blew a hole in his life, and now, was gone... forever. It's something he'd imagined more times than he could count, but he would have never guessed this feeling.

Nothing felt good anymore. Like he didn't deserve any release because his dad wasn't here to give him shit, so he'd endured nothing to warrant it. He'd started feeling guilty, more than usual, and in a more physical sense. He could feel it when he woke up. Maybe it was the guilt that woke him up every day, gasping for air and clutching his chest. It was starting to sink in and sometimes he spent the whole of the night crying. It was like his soul was being reformed. He drove to a Church, instead of calling Barry, to feel something again.

He secretly hoped for a big, ambiguous power that would slap him awake and help him trek forward like a strong wind behind his back. But believing took a certain lack of resistance and if his father's eyes were anything to go by, Rafe was stubborn like a grease stain.

Then there was the risk of believing and still watching everything spin into chaos around you. Feeling stupid that you hoped for something different.

But things are different now.

He's still an asshole, sure. But he's trying to work on that.

"You're not wrong." He admits, grinning slightly. "You been to the island before?"

"Couple times. I know how you guys talk." You shrug, amused at how the jargon piqued his interest. "It's been a pretty long time, though. Don't think we've ever met."

He nods, like that makes sense to him. You shiver when his blue eyes run you up and down.

"I would've remembered you."

Before you can respond, Leon makes his way over to the two of you, smiling to himself, mostly, because the conversation he'd manufactured appeared to be a success.

"You two look chatty." He says brightly, eyes flickering over Rafe's posture, far more laid-back than when he first walked in.

"Just doing what you asked." Rafe replies shortly.

"Yeah, 'course. Just that you two seemed quiet, but turns out, you're chatty. It's nice, that's all. Keep up the good work, folks!" Leon says the last part loud enough for the room to hear, enthusiastically clapping his hands together while he does it.

"Dude's weird."

You chuckle at Rafe's comment, watching as Leon eagerly prods at another pair. You turn back to him and shrug.

"Definitely weird. Kinda sweet, though?"

The rest of the session continues with Leon speaking to the group, promising that next time, sharing would take place in a larger circle for deeper community. You don't miss the way Rafe's knee bounces up and down next to you. At one point, you gently put one of your palms on his knee to keep it still. You feel his stare burning a hole in the side of your face, but you don't look at him. Just a hint of a smile on your lips.

It makes Rafe nervous. He feels something different, and he likes it, but it makes him nervous.

"Hey... you gonna come next week?" You ask him as you sling your bag over your shoulder, trying to make sure your voice doesn't sound so hopeful.

He pauses for a second.

"Uh, maybe. Maybe, I'm going to have to check on a few things first." By a few things, he meant Barry. Though they'd unloaded most of the cross gold, they still worked together sometimes. Mostly because they wanted to.

He was an unlikely friend. Gruff and hard to control, but in his corner.

If Rafe was going to show up again, he didn't want Barry finding out. He'd never hear the end of it - 'you're getting soft on me, Country Club!'.

"Okay." You chirp, turning to leave and taking all of three steps before stopping again with your bottom lip wedged under your teeth.

Fuck it.

"Hey Rafe?" You spin back, sounding hopeful and a little desperate, but honest, at least, because you are those things.

"Yeah?" He breathes, eyes falling all around you.

"I really hope you come."

Quickly, you turn back around and make your way to the door, hand barely gripping the knob when you finally hear his voice.

"Y/N."

You look over your shoulder to meet tender blue eyes.

"I'll be there."

Turns out, sharing circles are harder than they look. For Rafe, at least.

You spoke about Stacy so easily. You spoke well of her so easily.

When Rafe heard your shaky exhales next to him, he clamped his warm, calloused hand over yours on instinct, listening thoughtfully to the way you described her favourite hobbies. The ones you loved along with her, and the ones you loved to make fun of her for. It was a good reminder for him, that the fruits of his instincts could be tender. An animal with at least some softness. He wasn't always so sure.

He spent a fair amount of time comforting Sarah and Wheezie when they cried as kids, but he was also usually the reason they started crying in the first place.

After that first meeting, you awkwardly made your way out of the Church and Rafe followed behind you shortly after. When he watched you undo your bike lock, he puffed his red cheeks out and approached you with a slight shake in his knees. He wasn't nervous, it was just hot out - is what he tried to convince himself.

He offered you a ride back to the house you were staying at with your mom in exchange for your number. You strapped yourself in his passenger seat with a smile on your lips and a special kind of spark flared up in your chest, the kind that makes you acutely aware of the sweat coating the back of your neck, sticking the hair to the skin, when your eyes met his in the rearview mirror.

Rafe didn't look like the kind of guy that seemed well-intentioned when he asked for a girl's number. But he surprised you when he texted you once he got home. Then again all through the evening. And, in the days that followed.

Between the texts and the phone calls, you covered a lot of ground. Now, Rafe knew about the time you peed yourself at an elementary school book fair, and you knew that he slept with his first dog's collar months after she died. You gushed about your favourite kinds of junk food while he raved about the hand-spun milkshakes at the club.

Rafe's turn to speak in the circle was a mess, to say the least. He could hardly spit a few words about Ward, too busy navigating pregnant pauses and his newfound habit of stuttering. He thinks he might've called Ward 'nice', then very quickly grimaced after. When he heard his own voice through the rush in his ears, he thought it sounded nothing like him. He could barely even feel your gentle hand rubbing at his back when his words broke and cracked, leaving his throat with a nasty burn.

Though Rafe knew his relationship with his dad was strained, he loved him.

It wasn't a comforting feeling, but it was the truth, and all he had. They both could have done better, he reminds himself. God knew that was true.

But at one point, he'd just been a kid. He needed help. He needed his father who always seemed to find business elsewhere. It made sense that talking about Ward was hard.

It made mourning him harder.

A perpetual flurry of emotions that kept his mind up at night and his hands restless. Anger and sadness always dominating the rest, but fighting their own fight with each other.

Anger when he thought about the ways his dad favoured Sarah.

Sadness when he remembered those rare early mornings Ward woke Rafe up for a surprise boat trip, just the two of them.

Back then, Rafe used to stay up entire nights in excitement at the prospect of spending some time alone with his father. Eventually, he had to force himself to accept that their last trip together had long passed, and right under his nose.

"Was it bad?" He groans, eyes screwed shut as he rubs a hand over his taut jaw, working lazily on a piece of gum.

He's still sitting when the room clears out. You stand to haul your bag over your shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile that he absorbs fully. Bright blue eyes drinking you in.

"No, Rafe. It was fine. Everyone's too busy focusing on their own shit. You got through it just fine."

He gives you an unconvinced look, quirking a brow. Then he tugs at your bag, holding it instead.

"You're lying." He frowns. With a hint of amusement in his voice, "God, and you're a bad liar, too."

Biting your lip, you take Rafe's hand in yours and drag him towards the exit, giggling quietly to yourself. He trails behind you, slowly shaking his head. He grins when you skip past the metal rack at the front of the building and pull him into the parking lot. You didn't bring your bike today.

"C'mon, big guy. Let's get you a milkshake." You tease. "I know a place."

He rolls his eyes and laughs, letting you lead him in the opposite direction of his truck.

"You're going the wrong way, dumbass."

"I don't know, Rafe. It tastes kinda funny."

"That's because you mixed chocolate, vanilla, and peach. Who the fuck does that?"

Rafe sips on his chocolate milkshake as he sits across from you in the booth, an amused smirk tugging at his pink lips. The Island Club is somehow nicer inside than it is outside. The cherry-wood of the tables shines under the mood lighting and even near capacity, there's enough room for decent conversation.

You pout, stirring your paper straw around in the metal cup. You perk up with an idea.

"Let me try yours."

Rafe starts to laugh, eyes widening in protest. You're sweet, he thinks. He'd probably give you anything if you asked.

But that didn't mean he'd do it. He liked to think he was a little more challenging than that.

"No, you made your bed." He shakes his head, gulping down another sip. It makes his Adam's apple bob. You stare mostly unashamed and lick your lips without thinking. "Now lie in it."

He watches your eyes get big for all of three seconds before realizing he'd lie right beside you.

"Fuck, fine." He relents, taking his lip under his teeth, pang in his chest. "Don't look at me like that."

With two fingers, he pushes his cup in your direction and you hum happily as you sip from it. A sort of warm feeling in your stomach as you realize Rafe's mouth was on the same straw you're sucking on just moments before.

"Do you know that guy? He's staring at you really hard." You mumble through the milkshake, but Rafe's eyes are fixated on your saliva-coated lips.

"Huh?"

You turn your gaze to a guy at the bar. He's been staring at the back of Rafe's head for the better part of five minutes, squinting his eyes every so often as if to confirm it's really Rafe he's looking at. As he starts to come closer, you begin to understand why - his button-up shirt is half undone, his tawny brown hair disheveled, a far-away look in his blue eyes - he's drunk off his ass.

Rafe turns to look.

"Shit. Yeah, he's my sister's... long story." He sighs, forcing a smile as the guy approaches your table. "Hey, Top. What's going on, man?"

"Rafe!" The guy, Top, slurs excitedly. "I never see you around anymore, man. Where you been?"

Then his eyes run over you and he chuckles. "Maybe I should be asking who you been with."

It was true, Rafe had been sort of MIA since Sarah had returned with the news about his dad.

Well, except for that one incident. He hoped Topper was too drunk to remember that. In any case, he hadn't felt that guilty about their fading friendship - Topper had been MIA, too, ever since he went 'Rafe-crazy' and lit up the Chateau. He supposes that was his fault, too.

Maybe he was avoiding him on purpose.

Topper reminded him of all the skeletons in his closet. It was hard enough living with the shame without a walking, talking reminder of his past. A lot of bravado and hair gel, is what it was. He regretted nearly everything now but sometimes he worried that if he spent enough time in the same places he used to, with the same people he used to, he'd somehow switch back.

Rafe stiffens a little, but he gazes at you warmly. "This is Y/N. We met at, uh... she's..."

"New." You finish for him. "Rafe's been showing me around."

At that, Rafe gives you a look. It made it sound like...

"Ah, that famous Cameron hospitality." The guy snorts. "I'm Topper."

The words 'Nice to meet you, Topper' die on your lips when he rams a hand aggressively on Rafe's shoulder and starts to laugh to himself, as if recalling memories. "Me and this guy? We go way back, Y/N. Best of friends, really."

You nod half-heartedly, shifting awkwardly in your seat. The leather of the chair underneath your bare thighs is starting to stick to the skin uncomfortably.

"Alright, man, well it was good seeing you-," Rafe attempts to wave him off, but Topper doesn't let up.

"Look, dude." He whispers, lowering his head to Rafe's ear. He's not being as quiet as he thinks he is, and the next part of what he says makes you shudder. "I heard about your dad."

Rafe feels a wave of defeat wash over him. So, Topper wasn't too drunk to remember.

It was one of the first nights after he'd heard about his dad. He'd spent as long as he could in the Island Club, ordering drink after drink, until he stumbled outside and spent a good chunk of the night puking his guts out. Unfortunately, that wasn't before letting his tongue fall a little too loose, and explaining to Topper how his dad hadn't really died on My Druthers because he was in Guadeloupe swimming in gold. But now, now he was really dead. And he wasn't coming back. And he'd barely said goodbye.

"I'm really sorry, man. I know things have been really fucking weird, to say the least. But I'm sorry you're going through that. Again." Topper spills, feeling completely uninhibited. "Well, I guess it's only real this time around. But... you wouldn't have known that at the time."

Topper winces at himself. He rubs a hand down his red face and stumbles away from the table. "Shit. Sorry. I'm just gonna-,"

"See ya, Top." Rafe cuts him off dryly.

You look at Rafe cautiously as Topper makes his way, albeit clumsily, back to the bar. He lets out a deep breath and then slowly starts to shake his head, lifting his chin to meet your eyes with a look that seems to say - 'are you seeing this shit?'.

"That guy used to be your best friend?" You ask with a hint of a smile, trying to diffuse the tension. You spare a glance at Topper who's slurring through his order of another drink.

Rafe shrugs, letting out a wispy laugh. "We had our moments."

Moments he wasn't particularly eager to tell you about, but moments, nonetheless.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"What, Topper? Fuck no." He laughs harder.

"No, not Topper. The meeting." You say sincerely. "Why you feel like you can't talk about your dad."

You feel your heart race a little at the question, wondering if Rafe is going to use it to be vulnerable. His face falls for a moment, but then it recovers. For a second, he considered it. But there's something bigger that's been weighing on his mind.

"I was kinda hoping we could do something else." He says softly and moves in closer, cupping your cheek.

"Yeah?" You whisper, meeting his intense gaze. Hot breath fanning over his face. "And what's that?"

He tenderly moves a strand of hair out of your eyes, trying so hard to be soft that his hand is shaking. His blue eyes have specks of something else at this distance. It's the best colour you've ever seen.

"I really need to kiss you."

He nods while he says it, like he's giving himself an affirmation. Then he's closing the space between you and pressing his lips over yours with a controlled kind of pressure you're really tempted to see snap one day. The way your mouth opens for his tongue nearly immediately almost makes it happen right now. And that'd really be a shame, he thinks, because he wants to ruin you when he has time and space to play with.

"Stay with me tonight?" He mumbles breathily as you pull apart, and you nod as his thumb cradles your cheek.

You think you can maybe make out Topper whistling, but it's hard with all the blood rushing to your ears.

Rafe kisses like affection has been missing from his life for a long time.

His hands are almost frustratingly gentle as they caress your jaw, but his lips, which haven't detached from yours since you entered his bedroom, more than make up for it.

They're hungry and wet with spit, entirely unsatisfied until your panting underneath him and have to bury your face in his neck to take deep, deep breaths of oxygen and his fading cologne.

He bites at your mouth and neck in the meantime, then soothes over the tender spots with his tongue while you whine and claw at the silky material on his still-clothed back.

"This. Off." You murmur throatily, parting from his lips to tug up on the hem of his shirt. You stare unabashedly at the defined v-line that peaks out from underneath, tongue darting out to wet your lips in anticipation.

Rafe laughs, but humours you, throwing the garment off over the side of the bed so that it hits the floor somewhere.

Still hovering over you, he leans down to press several kisses to your lips, and you take the opportunity to run the flat of your hand down his warm and muscular chest, the other hand curling around the sweaty strands of his dirty blonde hair.

Rafe actually moans out when you tug on his hair, and the pretty sound brings a rush of heat to your core.

You squeeze your thighs together and plant open-mouthed kisses along Rafe's jaw, when his phone starts to vibrate on his bedside table.

You turn your head to glance at the bright screen and Rafe scrunches his eyebrows together, fingers pinching at your chin to turn your focus back on him.

"I don't give a fuck who it is." He laughs breathily. "I'm not picking up. I'll break the stupid thing if I have to."

You playfully roll your eyes before Rafe's lips attach to yours again, and you hum happily against his lips as he works them raw. Then his phone starts buzzing again.

"You wanna reconsider?" You giggle. Rafe slumps his face into your chest and groans loudly, arm extending to the table to pick up the device. He lifts his head up and glances at the notification, face twisting in what looks like shock.

"It's my sister." He says, confusion evident in his tone. "My sister never calls me."

He moves to stand up and passes you an apologetic glance.

"Sorry, I gotta take this." He mumbles in a stray kiss to the crown of your head. "Gimme a sec."

A few seconds turns into something much longer.

It turned out that Rafe's sister, Sarah, was calling him because of some kind of commotion that was happening at a bonfire she and her friends were at.

Apparently, the person causing the commotion was someone Rafe knew.

Based on Rafe's initial surprise and the way he's been chewing through his bottom lip the whole way to the beach, you assumed Sarah calling was a last resort for her. You got the sense she and her brother didn't talk often.

"I'm gonna handle this, alright? I need you to stay right here." Rafe says sternly, nervously running a hand through his hair.

You sit in the passenger seat of his truck, which has quickly become one of your new favourite spots, with a frown on your pretty lips that makes Rafe's chest hurt. He reaches up to cup your cheek.

He'd tried to convince you to stay in his room while he dealt with the situation, but you were adamant about coming with. You needed to make sure he was safe. It didn't feel like there were many people that had his best interests at heart.

"If you think I'm going to let you go out there by yourself, you really don't know me, Rafe."

His lips twitch at that, his thumb caressing the skin under your eye.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" He murmurs softly. "Fine. C'mon."

The beach is pretty at this hour, too. The sky is dark, but not completely so - an expansive dark blue that blankets the moon. In the distance, you can see the reddish-golden flames of a bonfire that illuminate a group of people.

"You had the cross!" An exasperated voice yells. "How was that not enough for you?!"

"Yeah, I'm afraid that's old news." Another man with long dark hair retorts humourlessly. "I'mma need my fucking money. The money your punk asses stole from me, or did you forget that shit?!"

Getting closer, you can see that this group is separated from the much larger crowd behind them. Four guys, and two girls. One of the girls has shiny blond hair that glows under the light of the bonfire flames. Sarah, you guess.

Three of the guys stand beside the girls. The other one stands opposite the rest of them, hands smoothing over something his pocket.

A soft gasp leaves your lips when you realize it's a gun.

Rafe stops suddenly. He turns to gaze at you with an intense look in his eyes, pupils hard as one of his hands grips your shoulder. The other reaches for your face, thumb brushing over your lip tenderly.

"Don't move." He whispers. "Promise me."

You feel your stomach churn at the request, wanting nothing more than to tug him by the hand all the way back to his truck. But you nod, hoping it helps alleviate the tension in his forehead.

"Barry!" Rafe calls out as he turns around and approaches them.

The man with the gun tucked in his jeans, Barry, looks over his shoulder and huffs. Rafe roughly pushes him away from the rest of the group and they divulge into a heated conversation. Rafe's jaw ticks as he listens to Barry and receives a firm shove to the chest. But he manages to placate the other man by whispering something into his ear. Barry ends up nodding, and he casts one more angry glance at the rest of the group then begins to retreat.

"Y'all have a good night, now." He chuckles grudgingly before leaving.

Rafe makes his way back to the rest of them, nodding at his sister. You slowly come up behind him.

"Thanks." Sarah seems to hesitate to say. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and there are frustrated tears in her eyes.

The relationship between Rafe and Sarah has been strained for a long time. They seemed to fundamentally disagree with each other.

It wasn't always that way. Or at least, Rafe thinks, it wasn't always that way. One day, his sister upped and left it all - the big house, the fancy clothes, the nice cars - for 'Pogue life'. It still made his nose crinkle in disgust when he thought about it. But the truth was, he hadn't thought about it in a while... their dad dying worked to break them out of that feud. There were bigger things to worry about, and despite everything that went down in the last few years, they'd lived a whole life together before that.

That still meant something to Rafe.

It meant something to Sarah, too, he thinks, because she'd been less appalled by him lately. She checked in every once in a while. A few months back, he'd formally apologized to her, and of course, it would never be enough, but he felt a weight off his shoulder when she accepted it. When he realized she wasn't scared of him anymore.

Maybe they could move passed everything. It would take a long time, sure. But he could wait for family. The only family he has.

One of the guys next to Sarah, wearing a backwards baseball cap, stiffens.

"Don't thank him. He's Barry's bitch." He bites like Sarah's words are absurd, then stares hard at Rafe. "In fact, he's probably just here to score some more coke."

Rafe's grits his teeth, eyes fluttering shut for a second. He opens them and shakily exhales.

"I'm clean, now."

Your heart clenches at how raw his voice sounds. You watch with wide eyes as the same guy scoffs at him.

"Yeah, like anybody believes that." He mumbles under his breath. Before you can try and defend him, Sarah steps in.

"Guys, I called him." She admits, fatigue evident in her voice. It makes you wonder how long the confrontation between them had gone on before you and Rafe showed up. Another guy, one wearing a bandana across his forehead, casts Sarah a sour glance and she sighs. "You know I had to, John B. Did you want Barry to leave, or not?"

He didn't have anything to say to that.

Sarah steps away from her friends in an attempt at some privacy. She approaches Rafe, and by extension, you, while the rest of the gang diffuses around the bonfire. Whatever had gone down in the past between these people, it was clear they wanted nothing to do with Rafe moving forward, and it was perhaps only because Sarah was family that she even entertained speaking to him. You appreciated her for that.

"It's been a while." Sarah comments. "You've been... doing okay?"

Rafe shuffles nervously in front of her, nodding without meeting her eyes.

"Yeah, I've been good. You?"

Sarah nods and a silence falls between them.

"You're still hanging around Barry?" She asks, raising an eyebrow in disapproval.

"He's not that bad."

"Yeah, I'll try to remember that when he's not threatening me and my friends for 25 thousand dollars."

Rafe shakes his head with a new-found confidence, raising his chin to meet her stormy and inquisitive eyes. "Nah, I talked to him. He won't bother you guys anymore."

Sarah nods again, and another silence falls between them.

"You're really doing good?" She asks again, bottom lip wedged beneath her teeth.

"Yeah, I am. I'm, uh, getting help. Got this... group thing."

At the mention of a 'group', Sarah's eyes sweep over to you, drinking in your slightly turned face and averted gaze as you try to give the siblings some space for their conversation. She feels her lips twitch a little. So much had happened. A lot she didn't think she would ever forgive, maybe should never forgive. But she couldn't deny that it was more complex than that, nor could she deny that she missed her older brother. The one from before. Who she'd make eye contact across the dinner table with when Rose waxed poetic about their new marble counters. If they could find their way back there, she'd be lying if she said the idea didn't make her happy.

"I'm really happy to hear that, Rafe. Honestly."

Rafe smiles weakly. They say their goodbyes and manage an awkward side-hug with each other. When he turns around, you silently take his hand in yours, and you walk along the roaring beach back to his truck.

Back at the truck, you lay your head on Rafe's shoulder as he sits in the driver's seat, still parked at the side of the road. Rafe keeps his eyes closed, taking a deep breath before he starts to speak.

"My dad scared me."

Instinctively, you reach your hand over the console and tangle your fingers together. You give his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I fucked up a lot, embarrassed him. And I, uh, I don't blame him for that. I was high all the time. Angry. Violent." He continues, sniffling slightly. "He wasn't scared of me, though. Never was."

"I guess I just wanted him to look at me and not be ashamed, you know?"

Rafe gulps, trying to let the sound of your soft hums and the warmth of your body keep him steady.

"I did some really bad things to people. Things I'm not proud of." He whispers with his head hanging. "They didn't deserve it... and now, I have to live with that."

He shuts his eyes and exhales.

"It's, uh... it's really hard living with that."

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you bite your lip as you take in Rafe's words, fingers reaching forward to brush away the spare tears that collect on his cheeks. He leans into your touch, finding comfort in it.

"Hey." You say softly. "Look at you, talking about your dad. You're doing a really good job, Rafe."

He smiles weakly, his eyes trained on his lap. "Sorry tonight was a bust."

"It wasn't." You protest. "Plus, it's not over yet."

Rafe lifts his chin to look at you, his curiosity piqued.

You lick your lips and trace your fingers along his jaw, maneuvering yourself over the console to firmly grip the sides of his face and pull his lips to yours in a long and messy kiss. It's clumsy, with your noses bumping, and teeth scraping - but it's hot and it makes you feel tingly.

Rafe nips at your bottom lip shamelessly, kisses trailing down the column of your throat. "In the truck?" He asks, and you can practically hear the grin in his voice.

"In the truck." You breathe, holding back a moan when Rafe sucks on your skin.

One way or another, the two of you find your way into Rafe's backseat. He's sitting with his legs wedged apart while you grind on top of him, muttering obscenities under your breath and weaving your fingers through his hair.

The sounds of your pleasure do more for him than he'd care to admit. When you unzip his slacks and stick your hand into his briefs to pull out his leaky cock, he throws his head back against the headrest and hisses at the contact. He is so fucking sensitive already.

"No, don't." Rafe protests breathlessly when you stroke his hard cock a few times, his hand slipping from your hip to wrap around your wrist and pull it away. Your eyes widen and you unfurl your hand immediately, only to smile when you realize why he wants you to stop. He tries to calm himself down, but can feel it building.

"It's been a while." Rafe defends, and you giggle on top of him, pressing a sloppy kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Honestly, Rafe. That's really fucking hot."

You pull your top over your head and toss it to the floor, then quickly unclasp your bra. Rafe groans immediately, half-lidded eyes so pretty and pitiful as one of his hands reaches up to grope you, while his mouth latches on to one of the hardening buds. You raise your hips to pull down your shorts, but it's not quick enough for Rafe. He tugs impatiently at the lace of your panties.

Rafe sits you down on him, letting you control the speed as he enters you. Your mouth falls open as you attempt to take him fully, eyes screwed shut, gasp after gasp leaving your lips.

"Fuck." You pant as he bottoms out, unable to move for a second as your head slumps in his chest. Rafe chuckles underneath you, large hands squeezing your hips.

"You okay, baby?"

"It's just big." You murmur, taking your bottom lip under your teeth. "It's really big, Rafe."

"I know," he coos softly as you begin to rock your hips on top of him, his own face twisting in pleasure as your pelvises kiss. "But you're doing so good, huh?"

You can barely respond, too taken by the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around him. By the sound of Rafe's deep thrusts, pistoling up into you as your hips knock into each other sloppily. Your slick dripping from where you're connected down to your thighs, squelching obscenely inside Rafe's truck, definitely staining the seats.

"Taking my cock so well." He praises. "Splitting you in half, and you're taking it like a champ."

You moan brokenly as Rafe hits your spot, his hand trailing down at the same time to rub circles on your aching clit with his thumb.

"My good girl, huh? Always will be?"

You reach your climax as he presses searing kisses on your shoulder, shuddering with the kind of white hot pleasure that has your toes curling and a high-pitched whine vibrating from your throat that Rafe is sure he'll never forget.

He comes shortly after, the way you clench around him through your orgasm enough to send him reeling. He groans, pumping his hips a few more times before he stills completely and fills the condom with his spend. He holds you tightly as you both come down, the sounds of your heavy breathing overlapping with each other.

Before his cock softens, he pulls out slowly and disposes of the latex. He presses a soft kiss to your cheekbone when you frown at the loss of contact, whimpering sweetly.

"Don't pout, princess. You need to get filled up? Right here?" A slender finger trails down to your slit, bumping your sensitive clit in the process, and it prods at your wet hole.

He chuckles, brushing the sweaty hair from your face with his other hand. "I got that. Just gotta be patient and wait 'til I get you home. You can do that for me, right, pretty girl?"

The next morning, you strap yourself into the passenger seat of Rafe's truck as he drives to a busted Church at the outer edge of Figure 8. He takes his seat amongst a circle of foldable chairs and you take your seat next to him. His hand reaches out to grip yours not different from how it did last night, through fucking and sleeping alike.

When it's his turn to speak, you squeeze his hand encouragingly and he takes a deep breath.

"My dad, Ward Cameron, passed away about a year ago. He was a lot of things..."

a/n: thank you for reading! comments/reblogs appreciated!!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #rafe x reader #remember when i said i wasn't sure if i'd write rafe again

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yyoraely · 9 months

Text

★:sleeping in class, but you sat beside the housewardens — your boyfriend.

☆: HCS + FLUFF + SMALL BITS OF CRACK

. . . established relationship

★: r. rosehearts, l. kingscholar, a. ashengrotto, k. al-asim, v. schoenheit, i. shroud, m. draconia x gn!reader

☆: honestly bro this is a work ive written w/ the most number of characters

R. ROSEHEARTS

Did you really just think that you could get away with sleeping in class when Riddle is beside you? Think again. He’d shake you by your shoulder or poke you at your sides so that you’d wake up.

If you do complain about how boring Trein’s lessons are, Riddle would be baffled and lecture you about how important Trein’s lessons are to magic, whether you have magic or not.

Riddle is in denial once he realizes that his lover would be so against the idea in the importances of history in magic.

A poke at your side and a small grumble, you wake up to your boyfriend, Riddle, with a grumpy face on, poking your side until you wake up to his scolding.

“Regardless if you’d want good grades or not— you’ll be listening to Professor Trein’s lecture, either you’ll fail or pass, it won’t be my problem once you realize the importance of history.”

Once you get back to taking notes and listening, Riddle takes glances at you to make sure you aren��t dozing off again.

But back at Heartslabyul, he’ll confront you about what he was lecturing you about, and ask your reasons on why you’d doze off in class. Whether it’d be lack of sleep, overworking yourself, you have a small fever, you have a headache, or even if you just feel dizzy— he’ll do his best to make you feel better and rest, maybe with him telling Trey to make your favorite pastry, or if you don’t like pastries, he’ll get Trey to make or buy your favorite drink.

L. KINGSCHOLAR

He can relate to that problem. He can’t help himself by sleeping in class, so why else did you think he’d have someone tall sit in front of you both? To not cover him up sleeping?

Leona found himself get a little bit surprised when he saw you fall asleep before him during Trein’s class. He thought that you’d be the kind to stay awake to do his notes, but once he hears your reason, like if Crowley overworked you, or you overworked yourself, or maybe because you feel lightheaded or you didn’t eat breakfast, he won’t argue to that.

Speaking of falling asleep before him, Leona just joins you in on sleeping, probably with his arms crossed and his head down, he’ll somehow find a way to lean his body closer to yours, or atleast just have a body part of yours press against his. Like your thigh, your arm, maybe even your head.

“Tsk. This is borin’ me out. Hey, herbivo—“

Leona clicked his tongue, his arms crossed as he leaned his arms over the desk. He was about to ask if you would be able to stay up and do his notes like a good significant other, but no, you didn’t.

“Racin’ me to sleep, is that it?” With a grin, Leona put his head down on his arms on the desk; admiring your face for a moment before yawning and slowly scooting his spot closer to yours, just to bump his upper arm and head with yours.

Back at Savanaclaw, he’ll find ways to sneak in how “You’re starting to become lazy like him” once you talk about Trein’s lesson from earlier.

A. ASHENGROTTO

I’m gonna be honest here. Azul does NOT know what to do (at first). Let’s say that first, he’s thinking about letting you rest, since you’ve talked about your workload the other day, but he’s also thinking, if he does let you rest and you get caught, it’ll all be his fault!

Being a good boyfriend he is, he only lets you sleep for only a few more minutes, 5-10 minutes at best, then, he’ll wake you up so you don’t get caught by Trein. Azul will be very considerate, and calls this a “once-in-a-lifetime” chance where he lets you catch up with his notes.

Expect only a little scolding about you not being able to wait until Trein’s lesson ends so you can get a little nap, but he won’t push it too far to his scolding. Just a little strict reminder to get yourself some proper rest and not spend an entire night on a workload.

“My dearest (very sarcastic tone), do you thin—“

Azul checked his notebook, asking if you catched up on the last thing Trein said, before he saw your sleeping figure, head down on the desk. He couldn’t blame you for being you, being a sleepyhead and an overworker at the same time, Azul won’t push it to wake you up for now.

For a few minutes, that’s when Azul wakes you up with a gentle pat on your back, his voice in a whisper with his face a little too close to yours.

“Got some rest, sleepyhead?” He teased for only just a moment before shifting back to his chair and putting the half of his notebook beside you so you can copy his notes.

“Make sure you catch up, alright? I can’t have you flunking.” If you looked closely, there was a little grin on his face due to his successful attempt to wake you up.

K. AL-ASIM

Kalim, being a very nice man but also somewhat clueless, whispers (not really) in your ear and shakes you awake like an earthquake was happening.

At this action of his, though, Trein thought he was chattering with you and immediately scolded Kalim for his lack of listening and talkativeness.

Once Trein slammed his hand on the desk, that’s only when you wake up, clueless and a bit scared to wake up to see Trein’s as usual strict face.

“This lesson is sooo boring.”

Kalim pouted, his cheek resting on his curled fingers into a soft ball of a fist.

“Hey, hey, [Name]—“

He slowly turned his head, just like the beam of sunshine he was, a grin plastered onto his face, but slowly faded into just a little smile.

“[Name]..?” Kalim panicked, for an honest moment, he thought that you fainted or died (LMAOOO). With two hands on your shoulder, he shaked you awake, a sheepish expression on his face. “[Name], wake up!”

V. SCHOENHEIT

Did you really think Vil would let you rest your head down on the dirty desk? Don’t be so clueless. Vil, being your boyfriend, he only wants the best for you, and he doesn’t want any trouble with you being overworked, then attending class the next day.

He is aware of you being a sleepyhead, but he’s dissatisfied by the fact that you’d prefer to lay your head on the dirty desk, rather than his shoulder.

Slowly, Vil would lift your head from the desk and lean it against his shoulder instead. If Trein catches you? Don’t worry! Vil would defend you by saying you were overworked and you couldn’t sleep well, and if that doesn’t buy out, he’ll resort to more creative plans.

“Huh… so that’s how it was explained.”

Vil mumbled to himself, taking down a note before glancing at you to check if you were okay— if you could catch up on the notes.

Once he took a glance at your slumbering state, he smiled softly to himself before putting a hand under your head to place on his shoulder.

Vil got all the more focused on notes so once you’d wake up, he’ll let you copy or review the notes you’ve missed while you slept.

Back at Pomefiore, he will urge you to rest more whilst he might do a livestream or catch up on his notes while watching over you the same time.

I. SHROUD

Just like Leona, Idia can relate, but not in the tired kind of way. He relates in the more “bored” way where he really just wants to go back to his dorm and play games while you rest beside him, on him, or even with him.

Idia is a firm believer of that students should rest after doing something tiring and not attend classes, just because he’s defending his lover.

He doesn’t put his efforts in waking you up since he knows you need to rest, but was kinda upset you didn’t fall asleep on his shoulder like in the animes he watched :(

Idia, being quiet, was resting his chin on his palm, elbow propped onto the desk. He glanced at you, his lover, for only a short moment and went back to the lesson. He turns his head back again to make sure, just to realize you fell asleep in class.

He mumbled a little comment about you being cute or about you being a sleepyhead before slowly rubbing his fingertips along your scalp very gently so you could rest some more.

Idia isn’t very used to waking someone up, so if you manage to sleep till the end of class, he’ll only whisper a few mentions of “wake up”s and your name.

M. DRACONIA

Malleus is okay with letting you rest in class, especially if you’re a sleepyhead, or if you feel sick, or maybe even after pulling an all-nighter after a workload, but he also fears that you might flunk and not catch up on the lesson, so he does his best to wake you up.

He tries to be as gentle as possible with how he wakes you up, especially with his voice, but no, bro wakes you up like quandale dingle.

Malleus attempts his most quietest, gentlest, and sweetest voice, but oh, he couldn’t. He isn’t used to attempt in soft voices, but for you, his lover, he always tries his best, whether it’s his not very good talents to some attempts in his smiling or habits, he’ll always do his best, just for his lover.

“Child of man.”

With a hand on your shoulder and a small grin on Malleus’ face, he watched as you jolt awake by his voice. He got worried for a second that his voice surprised you too much to make you scared or something, but then again, that was just how he was.

“I believe it is time for you to wake up. You may not be able to catch up on the lessons if you keep on your slumbering.”

Malleus admired your face as you sat up and shifted whilst you rubbed your eyes. He adored the sight of his sleepy lover, but for some reason, he doesn’t get why he loves that sight of you so much.

“But you may rest in Diasomnia once this class is over. I will get Lilia to excuse you in class.”

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 1 month

Text

Soft and prude

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Y/n wants Bucky to take her virginity. Bucky wants to have sex with the soft and delicate Y/n...

Warning: Smut/ virginity loss/ p in v/ oral (f receiving)/ unprotected sex/ kinda innocent kink/ good girl/ use of Y/n

Word count: 1.5k

Y/n was nervous, he had been flirting with her all night. But she hoped that he didn’t think they were going to have sex. She wanted it, but she didn’t know what to do. She was a virgin; she didn’t know anything. Bucky was experienced with sex, he had done it multiple times, with multiple women. The idea of having sex with the innocent Y/n turned him on, too much that he liked to admit. He was teasing her all night, making jokes, touching her and looking at her like she was the last women on earth. She fidgeted with her fingers; she was nervous. ‘’Hey, are you okay?’’ Bucky asked. She looked up at him, he seemed concerned that she wouldn’t be okay. ‘’Yeah, I just, uh, n-n-never done any of this before’’ she whispered the last part, but he heard it. ‘’We don’t need to do anything, sweets, I just want you to be comfortable’’ She smiled at his comment and went to sit next to him. ‘’I want to, but I just don’t know, uh, how it works’’ He had to control himself, it wasn’t funny, she was just so cute. ‘’First of all, we have to calm you down, because you mind is panicking right now’’ He chuckled. ‘’How do we do th – ‘’ he cut her off by kissing her. His hand went behind her head, the other went on her cheek. The kiss was filled with need, Bucky deepen the kiss, but he didn’t want to do too much, just to calm her down.

When they pulled away, her face was red, pupils were dilated, and her breathing quickened. ‘’Still with me?’’ he asked, while smirking. She blinked multiple times before looking at him, the kiss made her feel dizzy. ‘’Yeah, I think’’ she whispered. He chuckled before kissing her again, this time, he put his hands to use. ‘’Is it okay if I unbutton your dress?’’ he asks, between kisses. ‘’More than okay’’ she breaths out. He started to work and unbutton her dress, she was fascinated, he could kiss her and take off her dress at the same time. He began kissing his way down her neck, her breath caught in her neck, she wasn’t expecting him to do that. ‘’You feel more relaxed?’’ he asked, still kissing her skin. She felt like a volcano, she was about to have a heat stroke. ‘’Yeah’’ she said, but it sounded more like a moan. ‘’Where’s your bedroom?’’ he asked, as his mouth left her body, leaving her with a cold felling. ‘’Second door to your left’’ she said. He took her in his arms, she hangs on to him like a koala, he kept kissing her neck, he wanted to be sure that she was relaxed and calm.

The fall on the bed was slow, he was careful with her. She couldn’t believe what was going to happen, she was going to give her virginity to him. A stranger she just met, but she was tired of this ‘good girl’ reputation, her friends already had sex, and were teasing her about it. But she didn’t do it only to please her friends, she was doing it for herself, because she wanted to have sex with Bucky. ‘’I’m going to take my shirt off, now sweets’’ he announced before getting off the bed to reveal his upper body. She watched his every move, and he could see that she was calmer. Even if she felt exposed, her dress was lost on their way to the bedroom, it was on the floor of the hallway, leaving her in her underwear. ‘’Like what you see?’’ he chuckled. ‘’Very’’ she answered. He grinned before leaning on top of her. ‘’Here what’s going to happen, I’m going to take your bra off, I’m going to kiss my way down your body and I’m going to kiss your pussy.’’ He boldly said. Y/n felt like she was boiling, his raw words made her feel faint. He watched as her body reacted to his words, he felt proud. Usually, he didn’t take his time with the woman he had sex with, it was straight to the point. He was enjoying the effect his words had on her. ‘’I would like that very much’’ she said, with a raspy voice. Her mouth was dry, she didn’t know what was happening to her, but she didn’t complain. He smirked before doing exactly what he said he was going to do. After he took her bra off, which is a skill he mastered in doing, he threw it on the ground before kissing her again. He slowly started to kiss her neck, then her breast and as he kissed her stomach, he could feel goosebumps rising on her skin. ‘’Still, okay?’’ he asked. She nodded and hummed. He began taking her panties off, she felt so exposed, in an attempt to save her dignity, she took the blanket next to her and put it on her breast. ‘’Sweets why are you putting a blanket on top of you?’’ he asked. ‘’I feel so… naked’’ she stated, with a smile on her face, she was smiling because of the irony. ‘’Would it help if I took my pants off’’ he suggested, and she nodded. ‘’Because you’re beautiful and hiding is a crime’’ he said, making her blush. Then, he came back, without pants, he knelt in front of her exposed area. ‘’I’m going to make you feel good’’ he said before leaning in to kiss her clitoris. She never felt anything life it before, her back arched and a moan came out of her mouth. Her hands found his curls and she pulled them when the pleasure was too big. ‘’Christ on a stick’’ she moaned, making him laugh.

When he was sure that she was wet enough, he took his boxers off. She looked at his length with fear and desire at the same time, she was wondering how something this big would fit inside of her. ‘’Don’t worry, sweets, it’s going to be alright’’ he reassured her, seeing her worries. ‘’It might hurt a little, but I promise it will pass’’ he confessed. She shyly nodded and watched as Bucky made his way on top of her. ‘’Are you ready, Y/n?’’ he asked, wanting to be sure that she was still okay with this. ‘’Yes, Bucky, I’m ready and sure’’ she said. She was nervous, she apprehended the pain, she didn’t know what it was going to feel like. But Bucky kissed her as he positioned himself at her entrance. She gave him the green light with a small nod as he entered in her. She felt like it was burning, she stopped breathing, the pain was sudden. ‘’Breath, sweets, come on, breath with me’’ he said, trying to sound coherent, she was so tight, it was intoxicating, just like the air in the room. His body was screaming to go faster, but he wanted to be sure that she was comfortable. Once his length was fully inside of her, he kissed her mouth, to try and made her calm down. ‘’There you go, breath for me, good girl’’ he praised her. After minutes, she was finally ready for him. ‘’You can move, but slowly’’ she said, grabbing his bicep.

Bucky started to rock his hips, to a slow but romantic pace. He didn’t want to hurt her. She kept moaning his name when his length pushed back into her. ‘’Oh my god’’ she breathed out. ‘’I’m just Bucky, sweets’’ he joked. When she laughed, he felt her walls clenching around him. He began stimulating her clitoris at the same time, to make sure she was enjoying this moment. He started to move a little faster, but sill slow enough that it didn’t cause her pain. He kept kissing her, he loved kissing her. ‘’I, uh, feel this, ah, knot in m-my stomach. I-i-is it normal?’’ she moaned out. ‘’Of course, it means you’re going to come’’ he chuckled. She signed as she focused on the new feeling she had in her stomach. ‘’Oh, John’’ she moaned as the knot in her stomach burst, he felt her clenching and it trigged his own release. He came with a low grunt as he crashed next to her, careful enough to not crush her under his weight. She giggled her body was filled with new feelings that she liked very much. ‘’That was amazing, thank you, Bucky’’ she said as she turned to face him, he did the same thing Their nose were touching. ‘’Thank you for trusting me, sweets’’ he said, smiling. He began tracing imaginary patterns on her thigh, she smiled as she looked at him, he was focused on his drawing. ‘’What are we going to do now?’’ she asked him, wanting to know what their relationship was now. ‘’I would love to see you again, and again’’ he confessed. ‘’Me too’’ she replied. They both smiled as they quickly kissed. ‘’You’re not soft and prude anymore’’ he smirked. ‘’No, I’m not, Major’’ she smirked. Her ‘good girl’ reputation was long gone after that night…

#john egan x reader #john bucky egan #major john egan #john egan #john egan imagine #master of the air imagine #master of the air #callum turner x reader #callum turner #callum turner imagine

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starxxkitty · 2 months

Text

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

Vulnerable

Sub!Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader⭑*•⊱•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

☆ Word Count: 750

☆ Warnings: Pure smut, p in v, cursing, begging, No use of y/n

☆ A/N: Hey guys!! I'm so sorry that I haven't posted in a while, I was caught up in a shit ton of work and I was procrastinating so hard😭😭For those who requested, I promise I'm not ignoring you!! I'm working on a few fics, but for now, I decided to write a little something while I continue finishing up the other things:3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

Mike hated vulnerability. He was always so closed off, the idea of being so exposed made him sick.

Or at least that’s what he would say if he wasn’t a whining mess underneath you. Slick cunt sucking him in, your body flushed against his.

He was unable to think straight, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure and attempted to recall his dislike for being so open, he couldn’t. Not when you were so close, infiltrating his senses, face going soft as you moved up and down.

“Please—f-fuck..” God he could hardly speak, breathy moans doing nothing to wash away the stirring desire between the both of you. His weak attempts to form any coherent sentence failed miserably, nothing falling from his mouth but those whiny groans as he tipped his head back in ecstasy.

You admired how pretty he looked, eyes screwed shut as he gripped the sheets under him in desperation. “Mike..Touch me.” His name rolled off your tongue so sweetly, those simple words lulling him further into his dizzy haze.

Jaw slack, he couldn’t stop the soft whimpers spewing from him, hesitantly grasping at your waist. It was almost impossible to ignore the way he held you as you fought back a moan. He stretched you out in a way nobody else could, reaching spots that you fantasized about late at night with your hands between your thighs. Taking in the sight, your ego was through the roof as you fucked him dumb.

He was long gone, desperate pleas mixed with his faltering thrusts, it was clear that he was drunk off your body and loving every moment of it. The sound of you squeezing around his cock only added to those filthy sounds spewing from him, mouth parted at that blissed-out feeling.

Gasping as your fingers tugged at his hair, he could only focus on the way he felt inside of you. “C’mon sweet boy, look at me.” You whispered, “Gotta stay quiet, yeah?” Trying to respond, his mind went fuzzy with your pretty lips just above his. “I—“ Voice breaking into a whine as your hips rolled against him so perfectly, “I’m trying.” Biting down on his lip, the attempts to be silent were useless, doing nothing to muffle those pathetic sounds.

Leaning back, your fingers dipped between your legs; pressing against your sensitive clit. The sight made his head go numb, hands dropping to your hips, too weak to do anything but admire you. It was clear that he couldn’t stay quiet, not when you slowed down like that, putting yourself on display as he watched himself disappear into your cunt.

“Fuckk..“ He moaned, burying his face into your neck, in an attempt to hide his humiliation. “Please..” Pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin, his whines muffled as he went dizzy from the sweet taste of you. “Please baby, please,” He couldn’t do anything but grip your plush skin in desperation, “God I’m so close…keep going. I need you, please I—fuck I need you so badly.” Fingers digging into your body, he was too lost in pleasure to care about the sounds spilling from him. That familiar knot building up from his mindless mumbling.

“You wanna cum for me?” Your voice was tantalizing, a weak nod being the only thing he could muster, groaning at the feeling of you pulling at his hair again, “Then let me see you.” Nervously, his eyes met yours, completely blissed out as he held himself back from spilling over the edge. Your hands trailed down to cup his face, speeding up as his hips stuttered. “I’m—“ Head falling back against pillows behind him, his words faltered, the prettiest sounds spewing from his lips. Quickly covering his mouth, that pussy drunk expression had your head spinning.

“God you’re so fucking loud,” You breathed out, gripping his slack jaw. He couldn’t even respond, desperately looking up at you with those glossed-over eyes. “You feel so good.” He whined, lips chasing yours before catching them in a needy kiss, mind dumb from pleasure.

You slid your fingers down his chest with a sigh, “Who knew you were so noisy.” The teasing edge laced through your words had him looking away, lost in the intoxicating proximity of your body against his.

If being vulnerable meant getting to fuck you like this, then maybe it wasn’t so bad.

#fnaf movie #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #fem!reader #mike schmidt x you #smut #mike schimdt x reader #sub mike schmidt #x reader #mike schmidt smut #sub!character #michael schmidt #mike smut #blurb #mike schmidt blurb #josh futturman #josh futterman x reader #josh hutcherson characters

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leighsartworks216 · 6 months

Note

Screaming crying crawling up the walls for your top tier Astarion content

Idk if you’ve seen this, it’s floating around the internet (I think it’s a tweet?) it says something like “I want someone to grab my face and say ON PURPOSE, I WILL CARE FOR YOU ON PURPOSE” and I’d love to see our love-deprived bi-centurion react to something like this.

Like maybe he’s caught feelings for tav and is starting to feel bad for manipulating them and starts self-sabotaging by saying/thinking stuff like ‘you only THINK you love me but it’s not real, I’m sorry I made you feel this way’ and tav getting v v serious and replying “I never loved you by accident”.

Him being confronted by the fact that things never would’ve gotten this far if they didn’t let it, if they didn’t choose him, that they’re still choosing him and that it has nothing to do with the act he put up or the situation he constructed, if they wanted nothing to do w him they could’ve and would’ve dipped.

Idk I’m just spitting ideas, have fun babe ✌🏻

- 🦇

I wrote this at 2am but I did proofread it (it's almost 4 now 💀)

Also the original tweet is by Jenny Slate (@/jennyslate) and says, "I just want someone to grab my little face and scream 'ON PURPOSE, ON PURPOSE I AM GOING TO CARE ABOUT YOU'"

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, references to manipulation, self-deprecation, references to dissociation, dissociation mention, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,392

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

It began one night, almost a week ago. Astarion had gotten into the routine of joining you in your bedroll after feeding, cuddling close and relaxing to the steady sound of your heartbeat. That night, a week ago, he didn’t. He delicately bit into your skin and pulled away before you were even slightly dizzy, murmured something about how you’d need your strength for a fight tomorrow, and slipped off to hunt for animals. Truly, you didn’t think anything of it, then. And maybe you got so lost, so caught up in your daily stress, that was why you didn’t register it for so long. Comments under his breath about manipulation immediately covered up with Gale requesting a magical artifact or Shadowheart and Lae’zel fighting.

So, a week went by. And the realization finally hit. Guilt ate away at your stomach, but wallowing wasn’t going to help. When night started to creep in, your companions slipping into their tents, you slipped into Astarion’s. Sitting in a pile of pillows, he looked up at you with a smirk and a ‘Hello, darling’, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were dark. Distant.

“I’m sorry I haven’t given you the attention you need,” you start. A baffled look flickers across his face, but it is not given the time to settle.

There is a twitch at the corner of his mouth, like it’s a strain for him to keep smirking. “It’s perfectly alright, darling. You’ve been busy running around camp, helping people - I understand.”

With any other person, this would have seemed a perfectly reasonable response. An apology accepted, a mutual understanding - the relationship goes on. Except, this was Astarion.

You sit down nearby, close enough to reach out and touch. Any closer and you worried you’d overcrowd him. You always tried to let him come to you first, though he usually struggled to initiate anything.

“You’ve been distant, too,” you point out. He begins to form the words to apologize, but you shake your head to stop him before they can build a sentence. “I’m not upset, I don’t need an apology. I just wanted to know why.”

To be honest, he didn’t expect you to notice. He assumed, quite stupidly, all things considered, that you would be too preoccupied to notice him slowly slipping away. Late night cuddles dashed for hunting, hand holding forgotten as he trails along at the back of the group, kisses never lingering and the ones that did lacking any emotion behind them.

“Is something wrong?” you prompt gently. “If it’s too much, we can work out what would be better for you.”

Guilt stabs at his own non-beating heart like a wooden stake. He’s drifting and you still throw him a rope, still ask for him to grab on and pull himself away from his past, from dissociating with the slightest hint of affection.

He smiles wryly. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he teases, but it comes out a little too strained to be a joke. His fingers fiddle with the corner of the page of his book. He finds watching the paper fold and bend is much more interesting than looking into your eyes.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he says, but the endearment feels like fire on his tongue, “but it’s not real. This isn’t real.” Your brow furrows as you stare at him. He can’t bear to see the realization cross your face. “Two hundred years of manipulating - of course I would trick you, too. It’s instinct, darling, I don’t blame you.” Red eyes finally meet yours. You look confused, of course, but there’s an air of determination, like you’re ready to fight whatever plagues him. “But this… love… it’s not real. And for what it’s worth, I am sorry I made you feel this way.”

He expects anger. He expects tears, even. Crying and shouting and ‘How could you?!’s and ‘I can’t believe you’ve manipulated me all this time!’ But it never comes. You frown, sure, but it’s leagues away from being angry.

“You think… you manipulated me into feeling this way?”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Admitting it feels bitter. He blames it on his growing fondness for you, but he knows it cannot possibly be returned in any genuine way. Not with his underhanded tactics surfacing at every passing glance, soft brush, and gentle smile. “Come now, darling,” he smirks again, building a wall to separate himself from the shitshow that must be just ‘round the corner, “who could really love me?”

That only succeeds in making you frown further. “Astarion, I’m not with you because you’ve tricked me.” The baffled look from earlier surfaces again, but it lingers, mixed with doubt. “I understand that you started this to manipulate me into protecting you, but I’m not here because you successfully influenced my emotions - To be perfectly honest, I could tell from the start.”

He laughs dryly, suddenly, like it startles him. “And here I was thinking I’d learned some subtlety.”

You don’t laugh with him. You don’t even smile. “I chose you, Astarion. I still choose to be with you. Because I want to.”

Any lingering mask of confidence fell from his face. The creases around his mouth became more prominent as he frowned. His eyes darted around, glancing around your face for any tells of deception, any hint that you’re making this up to make him feel better. “How can you be sure? How do you know you’re choosing me and not just buying into another act?”

“Astarion.” You get on your knees and hold his face in your hands. He stares up at you with big, round eyes. “If I wanted to, I could break up with you. I am not staying because I feel stuck, or because I feel obligated to. I love you. On purpose. On purpose, I am staying with you. On purpose, I choose you.”

He opens his mouth, but no words form. His mind is reeling, chasing to catch up and process everything, all the while jumping and flipping, trying to find excuses or reasons why you shouldn’t care for him. He swallows the lump building in his throat. He speaks in a whisper, too stunned to speak louder. “Are you sure?”

Your whole face softens. Determination turns to fond affection, frown lifting into a soft grin. “Yes. I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his forehead, and he closes his eyes to savor it. It’s been a week without allowing himself your love - he deserves to enjoy it once again, even if he feels guilty for it. He wishes his thoughts would just shut up and let him have this. “If you still need space or time, I’ll be here. I’m not leaving. Just,” you pull his face back, “please talk to me about this next time. I know things have been hectic, but I’m never too busy for you.”

He sighs, slow and soft. Relieved. “Of course, my love.” He adores the way you smile brightly at the endearment. He turns sheepish. “Ah, could I, possibly, join you tonight? It does, admittedly, get rather lonely passing the time alone.”

You kiss his cheek. “Of course you can. C’mon, I’ll even play with your hair if you’d like.”

He chuckles, genuine this time. “I very much would.” His book is set aside, the page he left off on lost as he takes your hand and follows you from his tent. He can’t help himself from squeezing your hand in his, like he can’t quite grasp the fact you are physically holding onto him. Even when you lay down first and he settles in next to you, arms wrapped around your middle and his head on your chest, it still feels hard to believe. But the way you wrap your arms around him and gently detangle his curls and scratch lightly at his scalp cannot possibly be from his imagination. Nor the way you press kisses on his forehead and temple and hair with sweet praises and words of affection. His mind is not kind enough to imagine such tenderness.

Laying there in your arms, listening to the steady beat of your heart and even breaths that fill your lungs as you slip into sleep, is the closest he has ever been to true contentment.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnloveslokiredacted @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog

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pochaccoups · 10 days

Text

cw — minors dni, gamer!wonwoo, fingering

wonu <3: Hi love

wonu <3: I’m gonna stream in a bit

you: does that mean u need me? :3

wonu <3: Yes please :)

Within seconds, the soft patter of your boyfriend’s footsteps down the hall comes to a stop outside your bedroom door. He opens it slowly with a soft smile on his face, slinking over to your shared bed where you lounge with an anime playing on your laptop.

A shiver of thrill runs down your back as the gleam in his dark eyes drinks you in, his pearly teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

While this pre-stream ‘ritual’ of his is technically for his own benefit that is him warming up his fingers to game, you also get an orgasm, sometimes two, out of it, so it’s a win-win for both of you. He’s conditioned you to look forward to stream days, though that’s not to say he doesn’t touch you—he does, as soon as you bat your lashes and ask him so sweetly. Still, he insists that it’s a way of getting you “involved in his career” or whatever. (He’s just trying to be a good, inclusive boyfriend. You can’t complain.)

A giggle comes bubbling out of you as he kneels on the edge of the bed and pulls you into him, holds you gently by the back of your head so he can guide your lips to his and kiss you sweetly, yet with enough fervour for a dull heat to begin pulsing between your legs.

When his tongue finds its way into your mouth, your brain switches off in an instant, your mind attuned to nothing but the way Wonwoo’s hands are so warm on your waist and how your mouth melts into his like you were put on this earth to kiss him.

With you putty in his hands after just a few seconds, he lowers you to the mattress once more. Your legs part instinctively so that he can slot himself in between them and teasingly press one of his thighs up against your clothed cunt.

You mewl when, along with his thigh, Wonwoo brings a hand between your legs and strokes you through your shorts. His touch is soft in a way that’s teasing, in a way that makes you buck your hips and ask for more when he hasn’t even gotten you naked yet.

“Needy girl,” he coos against your lips, pulling away to mouth at your neck whilst his fingers tease at your centre.

“You love it,” you say.

He chuckles, raising his eyebrows in amusement at your smugness. Truth be told, your neediness does in fact fulfil something deep within Wonwoo. Your begging strokes his ego just right, and the sounds you make when he gives into your pleas heal his soul.

“Want me to touch you?” he asks, toying with the band of your shorts as he settles into the spot next to you because he knows you like to curl into his embrace. His question is not just to hear you whine, it’s a reminder that this being a ritual doesn’t mean a thing if you don’t want him right now.

You, however, are greedy, and your boyfriend is hot.

“Pretty please,” you reply, your bottom lip jutting out subconsciously at him. Without wasting another second, Wonwoo’s hand dips past your shorts, past your panties, until it finds its way to your awaiting clit. His fingertips brush against it lightly, and behind his glasses his cat-like eyes are fixed on the way your mouth parts in a soft sigh at the contact.

He inches further down, swiping through your folds, along your slit where your arousal is already pooling. It should be embarrassing, but when Wonwoo looks at you with his v-shaped smile and pride gleaming in his eyes, you can’t feel anything but warmth—heat. All over your body and in your cheeks and especially where his fingers are prodding at your entrance.

“So wet from a kiss, baby?” he says, his fingertips growing wetter and wetter with your slick with every second that he doesn’t put them inside you.

“I get wet from you looking at me, Wonwoo,” you whine, rutting your hips as impatience stirs in your core, along with your desperate need, mingling together into a feverish dizziness that can only be cured by your pretty boyfriend’s pretty hand.

He laughs through his nose—so mean when he knows he’s got the upper hand. Then he remembers that, technically, you’re doing him a favour, and at long last two of his fingers dip into your awaiting hole, and your back arches, and you give a honeyed moan that’s full of content.

Wonwoo slides his long, slender fingers in all the way to his knuckles, curling them upwards into your sweet spot so good that you see stars for a second. He gazes upon your face that’s scrunched up in pleasure and starts to move his wrist, feeling his dick stir in his pants as you whine and toss your head back into his shoulder.

He’s not teasingly slow this time—far from it. He’s doing this to warm up, after all. Before you know it, he’s moving his entire arm as he drags his fingers back and forth, in and out of your dripping pussy with a slick, obscene sound.

“W-wonwoo, please,” you whimper, peering up with him with sparkly eyes.

“Hm?” is all he replies, but the way he’s grinning with a mixture of something like pride and awe shoots pangs of pleasure to your core.

“More,” you manage through a moan.

He obliges with a peck to your temple, angling his hand slightly, then the pad of his thumb is drawing rapid circles over your clit and your noises grow even louder, even needier.

“Fuck, Wonwoo!”

Your hands find the fabric of his hoodie and you cling to him, bucking your hips wildly while his fingers set fire to every last one of your veins.

“So good for me, baby,” he mutters, giving a soft groan of his own when your cunt clenches around his fingers at his words. He loves how predictable you are—you’ve never been immune to his sweet talk.

“Can you kiss me?” you ask, grasping fistfuls of his hoodie by now.

Without hesitation Wonwoo leans down and meets your lips, kissing you hard this time, sliding his tongue against yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’d let him. Meanwhile, his fingers piston in and out of you with vigour, and you can’t imagine it getting any better until he pushes a third one past the ring of your hole, stretching you out even more deliciously than before.

Wonwoo pulls away just an inch from your face, staring intently at you as you pout. With resolve in his eyes, he brings his free hand to your mouth— he needs to warm up both hands of course— and it’s only when your glossy, puffy lips wrap absentmindedly around his middle and pointer fingers and suck that he realises how painfully hard he’s gotten.

Deep in your abdomen, a heat blooms and radiates outwards to every last inch of your limbs. It’s a winding coil that’s begging to snap, and Wonwoo can tell.

“Gonna cum?” he asks, his breath biting at your ear. His voice has fallen deeper somehow, so husky that it’s nearly a whisper.

“Mhm,” you reply, your moan muffled by the fingers in your mouth.

He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you with abandon and his keyboard skills come in clutch because before you can even process it, the coil deep inside you snaps.

“That’s it baby, cum for me,” he utters.

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out of your mouth and watches the bliss overcome your face, watches your eyes roll into the back of your head as a string of high-pitched moans falls from your lips. Your cunt clamps around his fingers, sloshing from how much slick gushes from your hole now, as he’s intent on fingering you until you come back down to earth.

When you do, and you’re left quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Wonwoo drags his fingers out of you just to pop them in his own mouth and lick them clean, though he’s not as shameless about it as you.

“Gross,” you quip.

“Yeah? I’m sure it was gross,” he replies, grinning at you. He has the patience of a saint and also the gall of a demon.

You roll your eyes in feigned contempt. “Don’t you have a stream to do?”

“Yeah, but I also have a needy girlfriend who needs to be held after she cums. Do you want ramyeon?”

You melt instantaneously, your head drooping against his chest.

“Pretty please,” you say.

Anyone would assume he’s grovelling from the way he brings you ramyeon and strawberry milk and gummy bears and your favourite chips. You know it’s just because he loves you.

He’s also trying to make up for the fact that he’s ditching you for the next three hours.

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #svt smut #seventeen smut #svt x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x you #svt x you #[୨୧] — starring: wonwoo

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