#bathroom debauchery!!

[euro2020leftmethesame]

Kinnporsche ep.7 you will always be the best❤️

#I'll never shut up about how much i love this episode #it has it all #wild opening #vegas torturing some dude #minor family house #kim with his pin necklace discovering chay has a shrine of him in his bedroom #TAY!!! #tay in THAT fit!!! #tay looking like an actual angel #did i mention tay???? #the are you lost babygirl moment and Vegas' green robe #action/murder #the sequence of porsche drinking smoking and vibing at the celebratory party thingy #Pete's silly reporting of Vegas' flirting with Porsche to Kinn #bathroom debauchery!! #kprewatch2023

[fictionismyreality3]

Learned your lesson? (18+)

Simon Riley x Reader

Tags: Smut, daddy!simon, angry!simon

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, thigh riding, daddy kink, face slapping, slight impact play, spanking, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, exhibitionism if you squint

Notes: absolute dEBaUchErY 🤪 but I have no regrets 🤭 gimme a chance and I’d let Simon ruin my-

In hindsight, the situation you were in was probably your fault.

You hadn’t meant to make Simon angry, and he wasn’t really, but you were being a brat. In your defence, having him away from you all the time got a little lonely, and you could only fuck yourself with the dildo he got you so many times before you started wanting the real thing.

That’s why you had blown up his phone all day, sending him video after video of you fucking yourself in every room of your apartment, moaning his name as you came. In the back of your mind, you knew it was a bad idea, but it felt so deliciously good to imagine his eyes widening as he stood on base and got all your little gifts, especially when you were riding the dildo with his t-shirt on.

Your hands gripped the black marble countertop of your shared bathroom as you bounced your ass back against the wall, the hyper-realistic dildo hitting you just right. When Simon showed up with a clone-a-willy kit in hand before a long deployment, you nearly spat out the soda you were drinking.

“What the fuck is that?” You managed to sputter as you coughed, trying not to spit soda all over the living room carpet.

“Your stress reliever, luv’.” Simon’s eyes sparked behind his balaclava as he chuckled with mirth.

The rest of that night consisted of you whispering in his ear and tracing his neck with your tongue, keeping him hard as you carried out your diy sex toy production.

And now, as you fucked yourself on your clone of Simon’s cock, your phone propped up to record, the dildo did its job, but it wasn’t Simon.

It wasn’t him.

That’s why you made sure to look directly into the camera as you felt the familiar sparks building up in your core, and when you came, you let him know how much you missed him.

What you couldn’t have known, was that the wifi on base was horrendous. You’d think with the budget going towards the military, they could at least invest in a new router, but no. Simon often had to struggle through paperwork, which he already detested, waiting for the tiniest files to load. In your eagerness to tease him, you sent all the videos at once, but couldn’t have known that they’d take ages to get delivered.

By the time they reached their destination, blowing up Simon’s phone all at once, it was hours after you’d initially hit send. It was nearly impossible for him to be away from you as it is. As soon as he saw your face the day you met, he knew that he’d be needing you for the rest of his life.

He didn’t like leaving you and he didn’t like sharing.

Two weeks away from the only reminder of having a normal life was already painstaking. It was the last day on base and Simon was counting down the minutes till he could get home and show you how much he missed you. The time spent rubbing himself in the barracks bathroom, jerking his cock to the thought of you, all it had done was provide temporary relief. He needed the real thing.

He needed to be buried so deep in your tight little cunt that he made himself a part of you with each thrust.

Simon was counting down the minutes as he sat through the last briefing of the day, just a few hours away from getting to let out all his pent up tension, when his phone began to buzz endlessly. His heart spiked, threatening to burst from his throat as he saw the texts from you. Instantly, the worst case scenarios of what could’ve happened ran through his mind. He wasn’t a paranoid man by any means, but when it came to you, the only thing that mattered more that keeping you happy was your safety.

What if something happened? What if you were hurt? What if you’d been taken hostage and someone was sending him videos of you being tortured?

Okay, so, maybe a little paranoid.

Not wanting to wait in agonizing curiosity, he clicked open the attachment.

Within seconds, sounds of your wanton moaning filled the room, your breathy whimpers of his name silencing the rest of the 141 who had been debriefing. All eyes snapped to Simon as he fumbled with his phone, dropping it to the floor in his haste to mute the video. This interrupted Soap’s guffawing, as his eyes locked on the screen, the video of you riding the dildo he got you playing on repeat.

“Jesus Christ, Lt! Tha’ yer woman? She’s a sight to-” Gaz smacked him upside the head as Price tried to avert his eyes, clearing his throat.

“Watch your fuckin’ eyes, Johnny, before I rip ‘em outta your skull.” Simon snapped.

Finally, he managed to switch the video off, but the damage was done. Even though he sat as still as a statue for the rest of the brief, his balaclava hidden face betraying no emotion despite Soap’s repeatedly cheeky comments, Simon was livid.

From the time he first took you, he ruined you for anyone else. Nobody could replace him, nobody could break you or make you scream like he did. But you’d ruined everything else for him too. And just the thought of someone else getting to have you, getting to touch even an inch of your skin, was enough that he had to ball his fists so as not to throttle Johnny’s neck.

He trusted his guys with his life, even if he’d never tell them that. But this was different.

This was you.

While you giggling conspiratorially to yourself, thinking about the fun you’d have with him when he got home, Simon was whiteknuckling the wheel of his truck, trying not to break the speed limit to get home to you faster. His cock was achingly hard as he ran over how he planned to punish you again and again in his mind. You’d love every second of it, he always made sure you did, but he wanted to tease you just like you did him.

This is what he loved about you. How you were so eager to please, but so eager to rile him up, it was the perfect combination to make Simon’s cock scream at him to fuck your pretty throat.

He nearly ran a stop sign imaging cumming in your greedy mouth.

His dirty girl.

His greedy girl. He definitely couldn’t give you the usual treatment this time. The thought of your ass marked up with his handprints after a spanking was tempting, but you would enjoy it far too much. He wanted to see you struggle to get even the slightest bit of relief after the stunt you pulled.

The rumbling of his truck signalled his arrival to your keen ears, and you jumped up from the couch, running to the front door of the cozy house you’d bought together to stand on the porch waiting for him.

Simon got out of his truck. He knew you were standing there, where you always were to welcome him home after a deployment, but he didn’t look at you. Getting his gear bag from the back, he slung it over his shoulders and trudged up the front stairs. His kit was well over 100 pounds, but he still managed to carry it with one hand. The other hand shot out to wrap around your throat, causing you to stumble on your feet.

“Simo-” Your greeting was cut of by your now restricted air supply, and your hands instinctively clawed at his grip on your throat. He didn’t utter a word, only reached around you to open the door, pushing you inside as he followed, closing it with his foot.

You were pinned up against the wall as soon as his gear bag had hit the ground, and you could already hear his ragged breaths.

“D’you have any idea,” He huffed, trying to restrain himself from just fucking you against the wall. “how much shit you’re in for… love?” He ground out the pet name like it took effort for him to keep from swearing even more.

You quickly ran through everything that you could have done wrong in your mind. Sure, you’d been a brat all day, but Simon liked when you were bratty from time to time. Nothing you could think of could explain the tightly contained anger that was rippling off of him.

“What? Did you not like the videos?” You managed to say breathily, the grip on your throat keeping you perched on the edge of loosing your breath. “Did I not like the-” Simon stopped to let out a low, raspy chuckle, his head dropping to the crook of your neck.

“I loved the videos, sweetheart. An’ so did the boys.” He whispered slowly into your ear.

Immediately your face scrunched up as you tried to decipher what he meant.

“What do you mean, Si? I only….oh.” The reality of your mistake hit you all at once.

Oh.

How could you have forgotten that Simon would probably be around the rest of the 141, not to mention how inept with technology he was. No wonder the rest of the team saw you. Your swirling thoughts were broken up by Simon releasing your throat, only to grab your arm, and roughly drag you over to the couch.

“‘Oh’ is right, luv’.” He murmured as he sat down, pulling you on top of his lap to straddle him. Your hands instinctively went for his balaclava, wanting to take it off and see his face, a permission only you were granted.

Before your fingers could even meet the fabric, Simon was grabbing both your wrists with one hand, pinning them to your lap. You really had poked the bear in all senses of the word. Simon was utterly massive, and he could easily palm any part of you that would take most people two hands to hold.

With his free hand, he pushed his balaclava up so it rested just underneath his nose, his lips free to kiss you. Your stomach was churning with a mix of apprehension and excitement. You knew the look in his eyes, the look he only got when he was going to break you. It was nearly impossible to keep from leaning down and pressing a kiss to his inviting lips, but you knew that you were already in as much trouble as it was.

With the way you were straddling his lap, the thin material of your shorts allowed you to feel his cock growing ridged underneath you. Heat bloomed in your core and Simon’s grip on your wrists suddenly felt electric.

“You’re a greedy cockslut, aren’t you?” He slipped the hand which wasn’t keeping your wrists trapped underneath your shirt. “So desperate you jus’ had to be a brat, hm? Had to let everyone see wha’ a needy girl you are.”

The low, condescending tone of his voice made your head swim, and your breaths began to come faster and faster as he palmed your tits, beginning to play with your nipples. You couldn’t exactly be sorry when he was making you feel so good, but there was still some guilt in the back of your mind for putting him on the spot.

“Simon, I’m-” Simon’s large hand slapped you lightly across the cheek, tugging your hair to refocus your gaze on him. “Don’t fuckin’ call me that.” He pinched your nipple hard, causing you to reel forwards into his chest.

“What’s my fuckin’ name, huh? Only good girls get t’call me Simon.” He dug his fingers into the skin of your wrists, the pain warning you of what would come if you weren’t more obedient.

“…daddy?” You tried quietly.

Simon’s grip on your wrists lessened instantly, and his hands began to tease at your tits again. The whiplash of pain to pleasure was something that he had perfected, and he loved the way you’d bite your lip as you struggled to catch up. All it took was just getting you to call him daddy and he could already feel you melting in his lap, your eyes getting half lidded and foggy.

“That’s right, bunny. And daddy teaches his baby how to behave doesn’t he?” Simon said expectantly, beginning to peel off his t-shirt you were wearing.

“Y-yes, daddy.” The cold air hit your skin, sending a shiver through body as you were left in just your thin pajama shorts, straddling your hulk of a boyfriend. Without the t-shirt in the way, Simon had easy access to your gorgeous tits, and took the opportunity to take a nipple in between his teeth, his other hand running up and down your back.

He was rock hard by now, the feeling of your soft skin on top of him sending his mind into a buzzing haze of desire. All he wanted to do was rut up into that precious pussy of yours and make you cum around his cock. But he had to be patient. He had to make sure you knew what you did wrong.

As soon as he felt you begin to rock your hips, a movement so imperceptible that only those who knew you would realize what you want, he gripped your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. Simon’s eyes were narrowed in warning, and a dark chuckled left his throat.

“You’re so greedy.” He growled, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Show daddy you’re more than jus’ a needy little girl.”

“How, daddy?” You breathed.

A whine fell from your lips as you slipped further away from being rational, your head fuzzy with want as you felt Simon’s cock pressed underneath you.

“Can’t get off without my cock, hm?” He thought back to the videos of you fucking yourself on the dildo he got you. Simon loosened his grip on your hips, allowing you to move, only to shifted you so that he could tear your pajama shorts off. He lifted you slightly so that you were straddling one of his thighs instead.

“You wanna cum s’badly? You need it s’much that you’re a brat?”

“Fuck yourself on my thigh then, luvie.”

Your breath left you in one big whoosh, and the moment Simon gave you permission to move, you were grinding down on his thigh. The fabric of his jeans rubbed against your clit, sending little jolts of pleasure through you.

Simon watched as your eyes got droopy, half opened through your haze of pleasure. He was still angry but right now all he could focus on was how pretty you looked. Your cheeks all flushed from his words and the exertion of grinding on him, your little hands holding onto his shoulders, and the wet spot on your panties.

“That’s it, pretty. Jus’ like that.” He groaned.

His cock felt impossibly hard, raging with need every time he looked at the way your tits bounced. Fumbling with his belt, he pulled his cock out. The noise caught your attention, and you faltered, going to reach for him. You didn’t get very far, because as soon as Simon felt you stop moving, he delivered two quick spanks to your ass.

You cried out in surprise and pain as he fisted one hand in your hair, and the other around his leaking cock. His hands were so big it made him look normal sized, but you knew he was easily almost ten inches.

“Such a whore.” He whispered, pulling your hair so your head was forced back. “Jus’ had t’get my cock in your mouth.”

Simon stroked himself lazily, savouring the wave of heat which coursed through him every time he ran a thumb over his tip. It wasn’t your touch, but it would do for now. Your gaze was forced to the ceiling as Simon kept you locked in position, observing you like his own personal work of art. The sound of his quiet groans filling your ears was torturous knowing you weren’t allowed to touch him. You could feel yourself leaking into his jeans, and knew he no doubt felt it too.

“Are you- oh, gonna be a good girl f’me?” His mouth latched on your exposed neck as he sucked a hickey into your skin, marking you as his. You were panting, practically trembling as he forced you to keep still. Simon was closer than he’d like to admit. It had been weeks since he’d touched you and just seeing you writhing on lap, trying to get whatever friction you could, made his cock leak.

“Say it, bunny.” He rasped into your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“I’ve learned my lesson, daddy. Please, can I…” You trailed off, afraid that if you asked for his cock you’d seem ever more needy.

But Simon was thrilled.

Having the love of his life, almost naked on his lap, desperate to touch him was like a dream. The hand in your hair pushed your head down, his palm big enough to cover the back of your head.

“Suck.” He growled.

Rubbing the head of his cock along your mouth, demanding entrance, you parted your lips. Simon pushed inside of your mouth, heavy on your tongue as he let out a long, drawn out groan you wished you could have on repeat.

“Shit, sweathear’- oh, fuck..” He hissed. You could feel him twitching in your mouth.

He tried to focus on anything but the warm, wet-

Oh, god.

Simon bucked his hips up and began to fuck into you without warning, sending your hands shooting out to his stomach to catch yourself. His cock hit the roof of your mouth and your throat tightened on reflex as you tried not to gag. You could feel Simon’s nails digging into your scalp as he bobbed your head up and down.

“Sorry, luv’ I jus’,” He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips around him. “Been achin’ for you, bunny. All those videos y’sent me.” He moaned, no longer able to keep himself from being gentle.

“Let daddy cum in y’mouth, sweetheart.”

The words flooded your pussy with heat, and Simon took notice of the way you moaned around his cock. He was strict, but he wasn’t cruel, and you had been good so far. Taking a little pity on you, Simon used his free hand to grab your hip, bouncing his leg so you could get a little relief. The sudden stimulation sent your dripping cunt into overdrive, and as Simon rammed his cock into your throat, you began to rut against his thigh.

He would’ve told you to keep your eyes on him, but they looked so pretty rolling back into your head.

“Yeah, yeah jus’ like that.” He said, his voice raspy as he tried to hold himself back. “Be good for daddy. Get close, luv’.”

You didn’t have to try with the way your cunt was clenching around nothing. Every bounce of his leg rubbed your clit against his jeans, and he pushed you further by holding your hip to help you grind against him. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, and Simon knew it too with the way you were moaning around his cock. Every noise you made sent a vibration through him, and he began to fuck your mouth with abandon, his balls tightening in anticipation.

“Oh, god. Oh f-fuck, bunny keep-” He spasmed in your mouth. “Keep suckin’ just like tha’. Daddy’s gonna cum in your pretty lil’ mouth.”

His words made your head spin. The only thought on your mind was drawing as much pleasure from him as you could, so you took his balls in your hand, rolling them a few times to push him over the edge. Your core was fluttering with need as you rutted against Simon’s leg, which he kept bouncing, hitting your swollen clit mercilessly. It was too much for both of you after weeks without each other.

Simon’s hand left your hip so he could tangle both hands in your hair, the need for his own pleasure taking over. You managed to glance up, wanting to see his face as he came.

“Luvie.. luvie, oh sweatheart.” His mouth hung open as he let out a noise he didn’t know he could make. The sight of you grinding desperately against his thigh tipped him over the edge.

“Oh, fuck. Bun-”

Ropes of hot, thick cum shot down your throat, filling your mouth and spilling past your lips. The taste of Simon on your tounge was enough to break you. Your mind shattered as you began rutting on his thigh, not caring how needy you looked, the heat in your pussy sent you spiralling. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, and you gushed all over Simon’s leg as he pressed himself so deep into your mouth that your nose hit his stomach.

He sent the last of his load down your throat and pulled your head up as you gasped for air. The world was fuzzy, but you felt two big, strong arms pulling you up from where you’d collapsed forward onto Simon’s stomach.

Taking you into his lap, he ran a hand through your hair as he rubbed your back in slow, comforting circles. His cock lay resting against his stomach, big even when it was getting soft. Simon’s hand found your chin and he turned your gaze to his, helping you come back to reality by taking off his balaclava to let you see his face.

“Did so good f’me, pretty.” He pressed a kiss to your nose, making you giggle.

“Thank you, daddy.” You managed to say, your eyes getting droopy as sleepiness began to creep in.

“I think you learned your lesson, sweetheart.” He mused, noticing your breaths begin to slow. “Jus’ rest here, luv’.”

“Daddy’s got you.”

Simon watched with reverence as your head rested against his shoulder, your flushed cheeks making you look even cuter than you did choking on his cock. This was good. This was right. He’d take care of you forever, he knew it from the moment he saw you. You didn’t realize yet, but you had one hell of a guardian angel on your side.

#smut #simon smut #ghost smut #ghost x f!reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

[remlionheart]

⟡˙⋆ MDNI ⋆˙⟡

Teacher's Pet

♡༊·˚ the second installment in my euphoria x jjk drabbles. this takes place where megumi's left off, but it's still a standalone fic so it's not necessary to read both parts if u don't want to ♡ tw for drug use and slight coercion. gojo x shy fem!reader. 𐙚 praise kink girlies who have ever dreamt of an authority figure having their way with you - hi, hello, welcome, enjoy your stay 𐙚 your former teacher's house was a place where anything and everything happened. a place people came to let go of their responsibilities and lose themselves for the night. there was only one rule: no one was allowed to step foot in his bedroom... shout out to the loml @bratbby333 for literally being gojo. 3.9k words. porn with a plot. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Satoru Gojo had never been the most morally sound, neither in his personal or professional life. There were many things he was willing to turn a convenient blind eye to, secrets he was willing to keep in order to protect himself and those he deemed valuable enough. In a world predominantly made up of black and white, he was the condemning shade of silver that connected the two. Always towing the line but never really committing to either side.

With the amount of wealth and status he possessed, there was hardly anything he couldn't have - not a person or a drug or material object that was off limits to him. The entire world had always bent to his will, and he intended on keeping it that way.

His footsteps were heavy as he maneuvered through the crowd of sorcerers that were scattered about his living room.

Every weekend was the same, a hazy blend of laughter and smoke and blue lights. Girls snorting coke off of his marble countertops and couples fucking in the pool, not caring at all who saw. It was the place that people wandered to when they needed to let go of their inhibitions for the night and succumb to their own vices. "Gojo's house of debauchery" as Megumi would so endearingly name it.

He tilted back the rest of his drink while he made his way upstairs, pleased with the way bodies parted for him without him having to say a word. He was imperious, subconsciously operating with an effortlessly powerful presence anywhere he went, but especially within the domain of his lofty penthouse.

He came to an abrupt pause, noticing the door of his bedroom was cracked open. There were hardly any rules when it came to his Saturday night depravities, but the one thing that everyone knew was to not step foot into his room.

His jaw clenched, grabbing onto the door handle with every intention of having to drag someone out when the tension in his shoulders suddenly settled. A small smirk crept across his face as he closed the door behind him, his annoyance completely overruled by a new sense of perverse curiosity as he noted the way his sheets hugged the side of your hip.

"You lost sweetheart?"

Your eyes snapped open when you heard the click of the lock, your mind was racing trying to piece together where you were. You'd taken at least 4 shots too many before you'd stumbled upstairs.

The last thing you remembered was searching for a bathroom, barely being able to push your way through the crowd when Nobara noticed you. "You don't look too good," she had shouted over the music, "here, follow me." She'd forced you to drink some water while you peed and then guided you to the connecting bedroom. "You need to lay down for a little bit, 'kay?" It was the last thing you had heard before your head hit the pillow and your surroundings finally stopped spinning. You'd assumed that she'd taken you to one of his many guestrooms, but no, in her own drunken haze, she'd managed to leave you in his bed.

"Gojo-sensei," you immediately grimaced at your own formality, scrambling to correct yourself while you rolled over to face him. "I - mean, Gojo." Satoru? No, definitely not. You shook your head at the thought. "I'm sorry, let me just grab my stuff and -"

His smirk only grew at your hesitation though, a slight laugh leaving his lips as he waved a dismissive hand and took a seat on the edge of the bed next to you. "You're already here. Stay."

Your body froze when you met his stare, the low glow from the red light above his headboard emphasizing the sharpness of his face. You were surprised he even recognized you considering you hadn't seen him since graduation. Out of all of his former first-years who would so frequently pass out after overindulging, you had never been one of them.

Never, until now.

His eyes drifted along your silhouette, noting the curves that had replaced your once slender frame. The maturity that had stolen your timid teenage smile. You’d always piqued his interest, but you were now piquing something much more sinister inside him as he continued to look you up and down.

"This is new for you, hm?" He asked, looping a slender finger under his blindfold before pulling it down. "I mean, you were always a good girl, right?" Your heart stuttered in your chest when your stare caught his fully. An impossible shade of cerulean gazing back at you through thick lashes. "A bit shy from what I remember."

You shrugged, thankful for the way the lighting was covering up the heat that had migrated to your cheeks. You were better off than you were 2 hours ago but you still weren't as coherent as you should be, especially for this situation. "I was a kid back then." You finally managed.

"Seems like you're still one seeing as you couldn't handle a few shots without needing to lay down." His tone was more amused than it was scolding. "Look, it’s all about balance. If you're drinking or taking more downers than you're used to, you need an upper to counter it."

It almost felt like you were back in his classroom listening to one of his lectures, only the lesson he was about to teach you was definitely not Jujutsu High approved. He leaned over, grabbing a black Versace box from his nightstand. "If you're ever bordering on the verge of blacking out, the quickest way to regain your composure is this."

You watched him pull out a bag of white powder along with a dainty, almost doll-sized spoon, scooping out a bump before holding it to the left side of his nose while another finger covered the right. His pupils bloomed as he inhaled, letting the drug enter into his system with ease. "Come here." He instructed. 

You leaned toward him, it was almost muscle memory the way your mind and body both followed his directions with such blind obedience. A slight grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he brought another spoonful up to your face, his free hand closing one side of your nose for you. “Take a deep breath f’me.” He gave you a low nod as you complied without a second thought. “There you go, just like that.” 

Your jaw tightened, an odd sense of clarity washing over you when you looked back at him this time. The coke had managed to reel you back in, neutralizing at least some of the alcohol in your system as your body buzzed from the stimulants. Reality suddenly had a stronghold over you, reminding you that you weren’t just in your former teacher’s bed, but you were in it with him while he spoonfed you drugs.  

“Better?” he asked, cocking his head at you with the same smirk.

All you could do was nod, gradually coming to terms with the fact that you were powerless to the two opposing substances that were now working within you. Your heart rate was slowed by the alcohol but accelerated by the coke, neither one of them necessarily overpowering the other. They were instead coming in waves, almost taking turns as they flooded your thoughts and calmed your nerves. Gojo-sensei was always right, but you never imagined this would be something you’d learn from him. 

“A lot better.” You admitted, watching him set the box on the nightstand, wondering if the way he left the bag inside of it open was intentional or not. 

“Good.” He pulled at his tie, loosening it around his neck as he stripped out of his black blazer leaving him in just a white button up. “What were you doing here tonight anyway?”

Your mouth opened and then closed as you met his stare again. There was no subtle way to admit that you were still recovering from your latest breakup. That you’d come out tonight in a sad attempt to maybe, accidentally run into him.

“Oh, god,” he groaned, reading like you a fucking book. “Please don’t tell me you came here to get Takuma's attention.”

Your pupils dilated for an assortment of reasons, embarrassment churning in your stomach as you shook your head in denial. “What? No, I just wanted to get out for a few and -"

“Bullshit.” Despite the sharp edge in his tone, he was still wearing the same coy smile, his leg lightly grazing yours as he positioned himself closer to you. “You always had a thing for him. I remember the way you used to follow him around the hall like a lost puppy.” 

“That was years ago.” You countered, trying to process the fact that he’d watched you that carefully. 

“But you did, didn’t you?” His hand reached up, his slender fingers gently tangling into your hair, his voice dropping down to a pointed whisper. "I even heard you wanted him to be your first."

Your heart was racing, but it suddenly had nothing to do with the coke. Gojo-sensei had never been the most professional teacher. He was always joking with his students. Always getting into gossip that had absolutely nothing to do with him, but you never thought that his interest in his student's personal affairs extended to you considering you hardly ever had anything noteworthy going on. You sat in the back of the class. You barely spoke to anyone. You were a wallflower from hell. The fact that he remembered your crush on Ino was astonishing. The fact that he knew you wanted Ino to be your first was insanity.

His hand was still attentively drifting across the back of your neck, light fingertips gliding across your skin while his eyes roamed along your lips. You were forgetting how to breathe between the way he was looking at you and the sudden realizations that you were quickly having to come to terms with.

"You didn't actually let him take your virginity, did you?" His tone was dripping with taunting curiosity.

"He -" you faltered as his palm met the small of your back, the oxygen all but gone from the room. "He was my...first and...." You nearly choked on your own honesty, your face matching the deep red lights decorating his wall. "...only."

Satoru's body stilled, an incredulous look taking over his face before a vicious laugh erupted from him. "You're joking. So, have you ever cum then? Like, even just by yourself?”

"Of course I have." Your response was immediate. Almost too defensive to be true. "Plenty of times." You tacked on, which only made it worse.

You froze as his grip found its way around your waist, his fingertips lightly digging into your skin. "Show me then." he challenged.

Your heart felt like it was going to explode. His touch equal parts tantalizing and intimidating the closer he got to you, his hand cradled your jawline, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. "Show me how you make yourself cum when no one's around."

Your breathing came to a complete stop when he closed the already small gap between you, his hand gliding down your neck as his tongue parted your lips. His body was warm and inviting, pressing against yours with ease. "Let me see it," he continued, slipping the straps of your tank-top down your shoulders.

You were stuck somewhere between the desperate desire to pull him closer and a nagging sense of insecurity that you couldn't shake no matter how hard you tried. You weren't stupid, you knew that he was much more experienced than you. He'd probably been with plenty of beautiful women who had given him more of a show than you felt capable of giving.

He pulled away slightly, picking up on your apprehension as his eyes met yours again. "You wanna be here, right?"

You nodded back at him, an aching feeling building between your legs at how dominant yet unexpectedly gentle he was being with you. "I do, I just -" You felt your jaw clench, the coke mixing with your self-doubt causing your body to tighten up even though it was the last thing you wanted it to do. "My head is just kind of everywhere right now." You admitted sheepishly.

"Here," He shot you a small smile before leaning over to reach back into his nightstand while you stared at the ceiling, trying to relax into the softness of his bed. "Open." he said, hovering over you again.

His stare was locked firmly with yours as you lolled your tongue out for him obediently, swallowing down the yellow circular pill he'd given you. "Good girl." He praised, tracing over the side of your face with his finger. "We'll take things slow, yeah?"

You didn't know what you'd just taken. Truthfully, you didn't even care with the way he was talking to you. His voice was like silk when he leaned back into you, carefully wedging himself between your legs as he kissed you again. His movements were fluid but thoughtful. His fingers grazing along your skin softly, leaving little goosebumps in their wake.

He may have been with more people than you had, but you were gradually starting to realize that it was more of a positive than it was a negative. He was able to read you so easily, he knew exactly where and how to touch you.

You let out a faint whimper as his palm met the inside of your thigh, slipping up your skirt and moving your panties to the side. "Keep your eyes on me, okay?"

The way your bottom lip lodged between your teeth while you looked back at him with a doe-like expression made it all the harder to restrain himself, but he somehow managed to keep his resolve.

His long digits spread you apart before his middle finger slid between your folds and began drawing light but firm circles against you. He could see your timidness slowly dissipating, the Valium he had slipped you clearing doing its job as you arched your back from him and let out another whine.

You were overwhelmingly comfortable, your body completely melting under his touch. He was running uppp and downnn your clit with just the right amount of pressure, creating a heavenly amount of slick for the both of you.

"That’s it. Gettin' so wet for me." He breathed, his lips just barely ghosting yours. "Do you have any idea how perfect you look right now?"

The moan you let out was beyond your control, your vision was blurred by silver hair and blue eyes and how unbelievably good it all felt. "Gojo-sensei," you panted, your body writhing beneath him as he slid in a thick finger inside of you this time. "F - fuck."

Satoru groaned, plunging even deeper into you. He never knew how badly he needed to hear you moan out his formal name until you suddenly couldn't stop doing it. Your hips were bucking up towards him, your lips urgently crashing into his as more dazed out noises poured out of you.

"Keep going." He instructed, reeling in the way your eyes widened as he added another finger. "You're doin' so good."

You were grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, your walls clenching around him. He was hitting spots that you'd never been able to reach before. Spots that Ino had apparently neglected too. You felt yourself slipping. Your mind was racing. Your body grinding against him desperately and your voice breaking with each word you tried to get out.

"Go-jo... I'm - gon-na..." But you didn't have to say it for him to know. He slammed into you, nodding at you in encouragement as fire flickered through his steel eyes.

"Let it out." There was a fierceness to his tone that he couldn't mask anymore, his composure was crumbling right along with yours. "C’mon, let me fucking feel it.”

Watching you come undone like this was such a sharp contrast from the shy schoolgirl he once knew that used to skip class just to avoid group projects. You squirmed under him, mewling out his name like it was the only word you knew as an orgasm finally raked through your body, stealing away every last bit of hesitancy you once had.

You were staring back at him like he'd told you to, never breaking eye contact no matter how hard it was for you to keep still. Your irises bloomed with pleasure, a noise you didn't know you were capable of making escaping you as you drenched his hand.

"Good fucking girl."

He pulled out of you, bringing his fingers up to your mouth. Your lips parted without him having to say anything, sucking them clean as you continued to look back at him with the same innocent expression. He was afraid he was going to no choice but to get you pregnant if you kept this up.

"Takuma ever make you cum like that?" he asked, releasing himself from you so you could speak.

You bit back a smile as you shook your head. "No," you conceded, helping him lift your tank-top above your head. "Not like that."

"I didn't think so." He smirked, unbuttoning his own shirt while you slid out of your skirt, both of your outfits being tossed to the floor.

You felt your center throb watching him strip out of his boxers. An overwhelming sense of neediness flooded over you as you took in the intimidating masterpiece that was Gojo-sensei's body. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't imagined what it looked like a time or two when you were in his class. It was hard not to with the way girls fawned over him, but you'd managed to keep your infatuation to yourself up until now.

Seeing him stroke himself as he lined up with your entrance was prettier than any daydream you could've ever conjured up.

"Need you to focus on your breathing.” he said, rubbing his tip between your folds to wet himself with your slick. The temptation to absolutely destroy you was plaguing his mind, but he knew he needed to ease you into it. The only person you'd been with was Ino for god's sake, you deserved to be fucked properly.

You followed his lead and inhaled slowly, thankful for whatever magical relaxation pill you’d taken you as he prodded into you. It didn't take long to realize why he'd told you to breathe, his tip alone was stretching you out more than you were used to. You found yourself grabbing onto his forearm, your nails digging into his skin as a hazy whimper filled the space between you.

"It's alright, you can handle it." Your walls were smothering him, so impossibly snug and tight that he struggled to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. "Just like that. Juuust like that."

He pressed into you carefully, harnessing all the restraint he could possibly manage while you tried but failed to hold back your whines. "God, you feel fuckin' good." He groaned. "Takin' me so well."

You were still clutching onto him, your mouth dropping open the further he went. You'd never felt this full before - this entirely enamored by someone being inside of you. You thought that you knew what you liked up until this point, but he was drawing noises and feelings out of you that you didn't even know existed.

Gojo's urge to break you was getting harder to ignore. You were so pouty and delicate and naively trusting of him. He'd been trying to keep a steady pace, watching you intently to make sure you were still comfortable, but the moment the words "deeper" and "please" left your mouth, he felt something inside him snap.

His hand laced around your throat, his thumb and index finger pressing firmly into the sides of your neck. The smirk he shot you was lethal. "Deeper? You sure that's what you want?"

It was your one and only chance to back out, but you couldn't. There was a coiling tension in your abdomen. A depraved craving coming from your core. It wasn't just that you wanted more, it was that you needed more. You could barely get out another, "please." before he was suddenly plunging into you.

His rhythm was merciless, his grip tightening around your airways turning your moans into strained gasps.

He leaned in, his hair brushing against your forehead as he watched your eyebrows knit together, your eyes locked with his once more.

"You've always been so fuckin' cute, y'know that?" His hips met yours with another damning thrust. "So good at doing what you're told."

The red lights blurred together, a mixture of stars and sedatives clouding your vision as the aching feeling between your thighs amplified. Your cunt felt like it was pulsating, that burning build suddenly breaking away from just your stomach and spreading throughout your entire body.

"Oh, fuck." He grunted. "There it is. Keep goin’.”

Your walls spasmed, drool spilling down your chin while you wriggled under his grasp. Your pelvis tilted up feverishly to meet his as you took every inch of him. You were teetering on the verge of passing out. Nearly crying from how overwhelmed your senses were when another orgasm ripped through you.

His grip loosened on you, his movements becoming more frenzied. The fucked-out look on your face coupled with the pouty, suppressed cries you let out when he removed his hand from your throat was enough to drive him over the edge too.

His lips caught yours with feral urgency, his hand tangling into your hair as a lewd warmth filled you, spilling out onto his sheets. “I want you over here again next weekend," he said in between breaths. “Got it?"

You nodded back at him, your mind humming from overstimulation as he slowly pulled out.

He took a moment before getting to his feet, admiring the mess that he'd made of you. "C'mere." He smirked, helping reposition you up to the front of the bed.

He placed a pillow under your head and brought the blanket up over your shoulders. There was no way you were making it home tonight.

He lazily slipped his pants back on, only bothering to button up half of his shirt as he ran a hand through his hair and reached for the Versace box on his nightstand. He divvied out another bump and held the spoon to his nose, inhaling sharply before turning off the light for you and venturing out of the room to see how many people were still up and about.

The music had died down for the most part, the once packed hallway now mostly empty. He rounded the corner, just about to head downstairs when he came to an abrupt pause.

"Ino." he called out, noticing the brunette wandering out of one of his guestrooms. "Didn't realize you were here."

"Oh, yeah." He shrugged, tilting back the rest of his beer. "Was just lookin' for someone, Nobara said that -" he stopped himself before he could finish his thought, shaking his head. "Y'know what, it doesn't matter. She's too needy to deal with anyway."

Gojo's eyebrow raised, an arrogant smirk cutting across his face as he played along, offering him faux words of shallow comfort. "Ah, yeah. Bet she's pretty whiney too, huh?"

"Right." Ino snorted, completely oblivious to the condescending trap he'd just walked into.

"Probably says you're not deep enough." Gojo pressed, earning another clueless drunken laugh from him. "Always so pouty."

"Exactly. Like she's never satisfied."

"Girls," he mused, adjusting the collar of his shirt from where you'd grabbed onto earlier while you were soaking him. "Sounds like she needs someone to teach her a lesson..."

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#jjk x reader #rem writes #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk x you #jjk smut #saturo gojo x reader #saturo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #shy reader

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 "𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐠"

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | A night after Homecoming has you reveling in the loneliness of your mind, but a drug dealer "meandering" his way by is there to solve your issues, especially after finding a particular toy of yours.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, mentions of drugs/drug dealing, minor comments about food, feelings of embarrassment, overthinking, mentions of mean friends/exclusion, loneliness, insecurities, and explicit sexual content: fondling, one spank, edging, orgasm denial, praise kink, sir kink, oral (female receiving), rimming (female receiving), anal play/fingering, use of sex toy (butt plug), and unprotected vaginal sex.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Everyone be honest: do you actually enjoy my writing being this long, when little to nothing is happening? I don't know, I feel like I dramatically wrote this, it's kinda comical. Also, this is literally an entire Soundgasm audio I heard, but can no longer find- the agony! All script credits to them, I’ll try to link it once I do find it! And, @strangerstilinski is a lot better at Pinterest than me, so big, loveable thanks to you for the photos!

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Cold and creamy, the slab of lotion smearing its enriching silk onto the skin of your shaven legs to prevent that inevitable itch in a couple days had been the only thing to smooth over your mind in the suffocating humidity of your bathroom. But even then, the sweetening smell of coconuts and vanilla couldn’t fully appease your feelings from the nagging reality of how isolated you felt from the people closest to you. 

Quinton Reeves.

For whatever reason, retired number ninety-five of Hawkins High’s baseball conference champions of 1983, still had the popularity chokehold of high schoolers, despite the matter of being into his second year of his community college career, while brandishing the golden name tag of the multiplex theater he hadn’t left since junior year. Something about giving away free tickets to greedy teenagers, that’s what made him “cool,” though utterly pathetic in your eyes. 

But unfortunately, in the eyes of swooning cheerleaders, Quinton Reeves’ “maturity” had made his Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road the main priority of your friends’ plans, after a grueling night of sore toes and itchy fabric that was the Homecoming dance. An actual celebration, where booze monitoring or debauchery dance moves couldn’t be policed by the faculty of your soon to be alma mater. Not that it was celebrating much, those green and orange jerseys adorned by the most admired only saw scuff marks with no touchdowns; yet another year of despair for Hawkins High’s athletic department. And yet, somehow a trophy-less trophy cabinet did little to sway the big egos of the prim and proper. Funny. So now, you sigh, basking in a night of a hot shower, trying to exfoliate and shave off that icky feeling in you that you knew resided deeper than superficially. 

Because while your friends drank the night away at Quinton Reeves’ Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road, you sat forlorn with a kitchen full of purchased junk food, a bathroom full of face masks, a bedside table full of magazines, and a television stand full of movies, because despite being planned a week in advance—after you conveniently got left out of Stacy Wither’s girls night—Quinton Reeves’ Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road became more important than your girls night. 

Softened skin bundled in cozy clothes, you watched your saddened reflection in the foggy mirror of your bathroom, where a squeaking wipe to the condensation allowed for pellets of water to race down the glass. Beneath the mask of green gunk that claimed to heal those pesky bumps of raging hormones on your skin, you could still see the dampen expression of your sorrow face, where you recollected the comments of your so-called friends. 

Buzz-kill. Bummer. Borning. Rummaging through the entirety of the B section of Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Thesaurus just to really cement the fact that they wanted nothing to do with your itinerary-riddled girls night. 

You splashed your face with the wake of lukewarm water. To hell with them; your skin was glowing, body freshly cleaned, your scalp free from any solid itch of hairspray, fingers and toes wiggling with a beaming white polish, and you had an assortment of snacks to rake through while ogling at Ferris Bueller, watching him have a day off with his friends who actually care. Perhaps you should take a stroll through Chicago, and catch a Cubs game. It wasn’t anything but a state away. And if you got lucky, maybe you could find Sloane Peterson’s fringe jacket in your stack of magazines. 

Surely, Ferris Bueller was cuter than any twenty-one-year-old who still spent his weekends partying with high schoolers. 

Christ, a parked full driveway. 

Eddie, four hundred seventy-six dollars richer, Munson craned his neck, ticking his tongue at the scale of which your house stood at 11:28 p.m on this Friday night. One hesitant sniff at his shirt, and he regretted the decision of not moving Samara Lawson away any faster, when the drunken girl attempted the flirtatious endeavor of receiving that twenty-five percent discount you were always accustomed to. 

Perhaps her revenge on the dealer, himself, after he politely declined with a harsh line to his lips was forcing him to reek of booze after a tight hug to ensure her chest squished against his just enough that Samara Lawson surely thought it would deduct a dollar or two. It didn’t. 

“Fucking two stories, man…” Eddie sighed, kicking the mulch of your mother’s meticulously cared for garden, as the bricks of your home seemed to drag onward for an eternity from his five foot eleven stance (six feet if you’d ever ask). 

A towel in hand, you gently dabbed away the excess water from your face, before you turned to serums and creams to gently massage your face with, hoping to ease any worry lines your friends have cost you in the wake of disappointment. Mint flavoring of stringy floss proceeded to invade your mouth, as you plucked all you could from your teeth to triumph through your oral hygiene care. Not that it mattered, though, a party-sized bag of Doritos was awaiting its fate of being empty by the time Pretty in Pink began its course of replay. 

If Eddie Munson knew anything, it was the probable fact that your bedroom could be found from the dimly lit window on the left wing of your home, where white curtains cascaded against a potential entry to your room. In the instances in which Eddie found himself in the weekly routine of taking three steps up porch and three knocks to the door, the stained glass that adorned your front door for decorative reasons always allowed him the warped sight of you appearing from the left side of the second story, before bouncing down the stairs like Yasmin Bleeth running down Will Rogers State Beach. 

And for the brief one minute and thirty-seven seconds it took to exchange the half ounce for fifteen dollars—prolonged extensively by Eddie Munson’s attempt at small talk—Eddie lavished in the bubble that was your true element. While cheer skirts became devastatingly enticing when you wore them, something about pajama pants that pooled at your feet for the entirety of being too long with sweaters that swallowed your tiny hands in comparison to his truly had his heart cinching with the tight grasp of utter devotion. 

It became the only thing that inveigled him to make the thirty minute trek across town to deliver your demands. What a surprise it was when Chrissy Cunningham revealed the dealer, himself, never offered her home visits, after too many complaints of making the eerie journey through the woods to receive her goods had you suggesting to your friend to give him the call you did weekly. But a groaned out, “You know he’d never do that; his whole ‘I don’t come to you, you come to me’ policy,” had you perplexed in the face. He had never disclosed you of that. Huh.

“For the love of God, please just let me be right for once.” Eddie huffed, as his calloused hand collected itself around the gutters that followed alongside your home, which provided him the leverage to denounce the white window sills with dirty scuff marks of Hawkins’ muddy winter sleet. 

How more pathetic could you possibly look? A frown had permanently etched itself onto your face, where a fake smile was once plastered before Lucy Coleman informed you of the fact that no one was showing up to your scheduled ‘Homecoming’s Coming Home Girls Night.’ God, you even had a cute name for it… ish. 

Freaking twenty-one-year-old multiplex ushers. 

Giving up the bathroom for the night, a trip following the banister down to the kitchen became a dangerous game of stuffing your feelings with carbohydrates you’d eventually come to regret the next morning. Your father had made the safe assumption to ignore the ruckus of opening cabinets and crinkling wrappers that appeared behind him from the living room, because eighteen years of living with you had taught him you were always one, “are you okay?” away from exploding from the angsty teenage rage that bubbled inside you. By tomorrow, you’d eventually come to him with a sadden face and wails of a hurt tummy, and just like you were seven, he’d be there to comfort you with a hearty breakfast and open arms. 

Littered posters, rumpled white sheets of little red heart, a vanity besmirched with powders and glitters, and a heavy resemblance of laundry piles that mimicked his bedroom floor—saved from the blacks and denim, only colors and lace this time. If, for whatever reason, this wasn’t your bedroom, Eddie Munson would be heavily concerned. 

With an artillery load of snacks on hand, your father followed your huffy stomps through the living room and up the stairs. “Wanna save me some?” A joke terribly unappreciated on your part, as a scowl met his lighthearted smile.

Your bare toes dug into the carpeted steps to solidify your displeased mood. A little dramatic, and unserious, but only targeted to your flippant father, who found amusement in the little jabs that made your face crease like your mother’s. The actual hurt and betrayal that lingered within was still discreetly churning in your belly with the fretful epiphany of how lonely your friends made you feel. 

But as mentioned, that’d be a discussion for tomorrow morning, when you could cry into your scramble eggs. 

One step at a time, the view of your bedroom door—cracked, and flooding the hallway with the mustardness of lamps—came to light, as a guttural sigh left your mouth as a “fuck you” to the stir of messes you felt, pounding at your head with no mercy, as if the shitty friends you had wasn’t enough, they were capable of making you feel horrible, awful things. 

Yeah, fuck yo- “Ah!”  

Bags of chips and wrappers of candy avalanched down the doorway of your bedroom, as Eddie Munson’s already large eyes rounded to the ghastliness of yours, hunched and frozen in stance of that of a burglar, and suddenly Eddie was coming to the realization of how utterly creepy he looked.  

“Sweetpea?!”

“Hon?!”

A call from the living room, a call from your parents’ room; your mother and father’s voice boomed with concern of what could be another dramatic yell fueled by teenage temper or actual danger. But Eddie’s surrendering hands, with a look of desperate apologies that had to go unspoken unless he wanted to be caught by your parents had made it apparent that Hawkins’ local drug dealer who wandered about with a gaudy jewelry and hair you’d like to braid had little to offer when it came to harm. 

Also, the way in which his fretful finger was comically signaling to his prized lunchbox had let the understanding of business ventures finally hit you. 

“S-Sorry! Um, giant spider!” Stifling their consternation of any imminent danger, Eddie cracked a tiny smile, before treading down to your feet to pick up what he caused to drop in the first place. 

One after another, your pile of snacks were now being examined under the scrutiny of your drug dealer. “Friends coming over for a sleepover or somethin’?” 

Insulting. “No.” You mumbled with a particular sass he hadn't usually been indulged in, that had him quietly chuckling. God, him and your father would get along. 

Sat aside on your bedside table to be feasted upon when cute, unwarranted company couldn’t witness the giant devour, you quietly closed your bedroom door, and stood watching Eddie Munson awkwardly swing his arms. 

“You’re probably-”

“So, um-

“Oh, I’m sorry, go ahead.” He encouraged you with a tight-lipped smile.

You shrugged, and sat upon the edge of your bed. “I was just going to ask why you snuck into my room… at this hour.”

Eddie cleared his throat. “No, yeah, um, I realize how weird this must be, but, uh,” his eyes gallivanted to the notable furniture that adorned your bedroom—bookshelf, arm chair, desk—to avoid the knowing look on your face he’d have to be met with, because for whatever reason it was, it was now just painfully dawning on Eddie Munson how terrible of a move this was. “Well, I was just heading home, passing through the neighborhood,” lie, “and realized you weren’t at the party- Reeves’, I mean, you weren’t at Reeves’ party.”

And you truly gave the man, himself, little to offer with your subtle, “yeah,” that would force him to grab a crowbar to pry what little information he was willing to take for the night if it meant you’d just keep talking to him. 

“Just, uh, all your friends were there, bought from me n’ all, but, um, I don’t know, just kinda figured you’d be there with them since you always are.” He mustered out, as his eyes rapidly jumped about to scan the movements of your body. “And, well, didn’t see my number one customer.” 

And Eddie smiled, as your heart began pattering with stirring feelings that had your throat tightening with disbelief. “You came to check on me?” So softly spoken. 

“No, no.” Oh. How more embarrassing can this get for you? He might as well point and laugh in your face for being so lonely. “I-I, um, thought I could, uh, drop off your usual, y’know, squeeze in some extra cash.” Of course. “I saved you some.” Eddie patted his battered box. 

He watched your body deflate, and suddenly he wondered why he went that route, when it clearly caused the frown line on your face to deepen. “Right, um, thanks.” You sighed. Junk food and weed? At the very least, you could be high when crying tonight. 

One second to open your bedside drawer, but another second halted by Eddie’s voice that stopped your movements from stretching to reach for your wallet inside. “I- y’know what? Free of charge.” He propped open the metal lid to grasp onto the reserved baggie of the usual half ounce, before placing the lunchbox down to hand the substance to you. And he read you confused look quickly, as your hand hesitantly graced his fingers to take the goods. “Just, um, loyal customer, figured I should give back.” 

“Eddie, you already gave me a discount, I really don’t mind paying.” A promise to indemnify him for all that he already did. 

“Ah, well, you should, because I’ll be terribly offended if you do pay me.” He broke a smile that had your shoulders slumping with relaxation. “Just, uh, gotta let me hang here for a minute, if that’s okay with you.” 

“You want to stay here?” 

“Food, weed, and your company? C’mon, what kind of man would I be to pass up that opportunity?” And thankfully, that was enough confidence to have you shyly giggling before him. “Just a little break before I head home, I guess.”

“Had too much fun partying?” You teased. 

“Think I would’ve had more fun if you were there.” Oh, no. Pattering heartbeats, and now fluttering butterflies disrupt the peace of your tummy, as Eddie stared down at you. “Mind if I sit, uh, next to you, or over there, or wherever?”

You nodded to his request, complying by moving to the center of your bed, where you and Eddie sat back in the bundle of your rumpled duvet and pillows. A pregnant pause consumed over, as Eddie chose to linger in the silence to get a good view of the knick knacks that disheveled your room perfectly, and you admired the glow in which his profile became illuminated by. With bouncing eyes, it became the shiny embroidery of gold italics on the velvet sash that read “Homecoming Court” that paired cheaply with the tiny, plastic $3.99 Party City tiara that had dug into your scalp for the three hours you had to endure that night that caught Eddie’s attention. 

“You win?” He abrasively asked. 

“Uh, no.” You quietly answered. “Chrissy Cunningham got the bigger crown.” 

Eddie nodded along. “Figures.” He added. “She’s sweet.” 

It was your turn to nod, as the lips concaved into your teeth, while your fingers rustled with the plastic baggy in hand. “Yeah, she is.” 

“Kinda boring, though. Don’t you think?” He tossed his head back to meet his eyes upon yours. 

“Chrissy?” 

“No- well, not really, I mean Chrissy winning, y’know? Carver, too.” He clarified, as he watched your face with the suggestions he was making. “Like, why even vote- or hell, go to that shitshow if we already know who’s going to win? At the very least, throw in a curveball. Like-Like, Johnny Katowski.” Eddie laughed. 

“The kid from chess club?” You quietly giggled, as Eddie sat up.

“Yeah, him!” He declared. “How great would it be to see a kid like him winning Homecoming King, I mean, he may have bitched me out when I knocked into his lunch table and messed up his little figurines-”

“Pawns?”

“Yeah, pawns.” He laughed. “But the point is, why not give some other people the light, y’know?”

“Oh, well, Johnny Katowski is a really nice person, but I think he’d be too shy to enjoy everyone staring at him.” You quietly spoke, as you fiddled with your fingers under Eddie’s stare. “But, um, other people like you?”

“I meant other people like you.” Eddie smiled. “I’m too good to be king.” He joked, as you laughed at his cockiness. “I’m sure that dance would’ve been better if you had won, ‘s all. Just like the party.”

Your brows raised with gentle curiosity. “Oh, did you not have a good time at the dance?”

“Oh, no,” he waved you off, “didn’t even go. Dances aren’t exactly my thing, sweetheart.” 

You softly giggled. “You didn’t go to the dance, but you went to the afterparty?”

“Can’t exactly sell my supply on school premises, Y/N.” Eddie jokingly protested. “And even so, you went to the dance and not the afterparty.” Like tightening rope around your throat, your gut was hit with the simple analysis Eddie concurred. Though rather obvious, it somehow manifested worse coming out in the words of others around you who clearly saw the disconnect between you and your friends. Sure, a little more information would solidify it, but in the overworking mind of intrusive thoughts that made up your mind, Eddie’s phrase managed to concoct the notion that all of Hawkins High was now acutely aware of the fact that the ties of friendship with the girls closest to you was now being severed at the hands of no longer wanting you. “Hey, you okay?” His face lowered to catch yours, only to quickly move as you suddenly cleared your throat whilst straightening your comfortable posture. 

“Yeah, yeah, just a little tired, I guess.” You mumbled, providing him a small smile to end whatever prodding he was about to dig into. You no longer wanted it. 

“Oh.” He spoke. “Um, you want me to leave, leave you alone?”

“No, no.” You assured him. “It’s okay.” 

Another silent pause. Eddie Munson laid his cards on the table. A, he could cut the awkwardness short, and be on his way back home, sufficed with the fact that he, at least, got more words out of you than the usual “thank you, here’s your money, see you next week” routine, that he’ll be stuck with for the rest of the school year, until you inevitably leave for college- I mean, good for you, but then he would be stuck with a whirlwind of what if’s that would eat him alive, all while you got the live your prosperous life in god knows what city, where some dude who actually had to balls to make a move on you would get the honor of being called your boyfriend. Deep breath. Or B, he could just be a friend right now, because it really looked like you needed one. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” You slowly peered up at him. “I mean, like, you’ve always been kinda quiet, just, y’know, from seeing you around, but you seem a little more down now. Like mime quiet.” He smiled, eliciting a worn giggle from you. “Just feel like you have something to say, but you’re not saying it.”

“I…” you sighed, “it’s really stupid, Eddie.” Because suddenly sitting back with Eddie—whose personal life details were spread around town for the sake of small town gossip to enact who could and could not associate with the shunned of Hawkins, Indiana—your problems felt entirely too small. The last thing he needed was to be drowned by your superficial problems. The last thing you needed was to be judged for feeling the way you did, when Eddie Munson would give the reality check of a lifetime, and tell you to grow up. “Yeah, just, um, really miniscule things that I don’t, uh, wanna annoy you with.” You attempted to laugh off.  

“I asked you.” Eddie stated matter-of-factly. “You’re not gonna annoy me when I’m literally asking to hear you, sweetheart.” He chuckled in disbelief at your resigned behavior, baffled by the notion you could even believe anything about you to be bothersome. “C’mon, just say it, say it with your chest, just lay it all on me. Can’t do any good to keep it in, no?”

Eddie Munson had quite the knack of being a cute motivational speaker, as your giggles caused by his coltish self seemed to abate the linger tussle of depressive hesitancy in your mind. “It’s just… y’know, my friends, n’ all.” A hearty grunt of agreement coming from Eddie had you laughing through your words, as his face of distaste for your friends made it easier to speak. “Like, I just know they-they don’t want me- or, at least, it really feels like that. God, Eddie I rented out all these movies, bought some face masks- which are really expensive, by the way, and these damn snacks, ugh. Why-Why is some lame party more important than my plans, than me? They just don’t care! And I get I’m more quiet than them, but why does that mean I have to be left out of everything?! A-And, y’know, they always say I’m a bummer, but they don’t think about the fact that they make me a bummer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love shopping just as much as the next guy, but knit-picking everything that’s wrong with how a dress looks on me isn’t exactly going to make me an ecstatic person, y’know?!”

Eddie Munson used to be able to count the number of words you spoke to him on the fingers of one hand. And right now, that was, at least, twenty-five singular hands. And the thought had him smiling in the distance, when in actuality, that stagnant pause was an invitation for him to speak, as per a normal conversation. So it became that very smile that had your stomach flipping with ignominy at the fact that your overthinking thoughts were transpiring right in front of you: Eddie Munson thought your problems were laughable. 

A quiet “huh” was all he had to say.

“Well?” Your face, unfortunately, contorted with desperate validation. “You think it’s stupid, don’t you?” Almost accusatory, but in all seriousness, his lack of words were only cementing the scary thought that infested your head: you were the problem.

While deliberating, Eddie was really trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, he really was. But for the love of god, why were you allowing these people to have this much sway over your life? Three days ago, Courtney Keller, co-captain of Hawkins High’s cheer team, who conveniently sat a desk over in Eddie Munson’s English literature class thanks to Ms. O’Donnell’s tyrannical assigned seating, was overheard asking if Romeo and Juliet had been inspired by the 1978 cult classic Grease. Ah, yes, because William Shakespeare surely looked to a Hollywood blockbuster love story of a goody-two-shoes and greaser to write his most notable play. These were the people making you miserable?! You bombarded your letterman jacket with a bunch of tiny, obscure pins for crying out loud! Only you could make those god awful, gaudy, green jackets look remotely cool. Not to mention the fact that when looking at you from a distance—totally not creepy—Eddie could make out those funky, little doodles that indented the cover of your notebooks, before being thrown into your stuffed locker of knick knacks and stickers. Pins and doodles? Totally cool in Eddie Munson’s book. 

Okay, maybe not the most substantial aspects to determine one’s coolness, and perhaps, most wouldn’t look to the super, super senior to constitute what is, but the fact of the matter was that Eddie Munson, himself, thought you were pretty damn cool, so who the hell were some peaked-in-high-school nobodies to tell you otherwise? 

“What do I think? Uh, how do I put this?” Eddie reiterated, playing out the right words to confront you with. Though, Eddie Munson wasn’t necessarily one to speak so eloquently. “I think you’re kinda acting like a dumbass,” and your fallen face had him stuttering into recovery, “n-no, I mean, like, not that you’re dumb or anything, you’re really fucking smart. It’s just, I dunno, c’mon, you’re smart enough not to let them bother you.” He exasperated. 

“Like-”

“Like- sorry,” he interrupted, “I just mean that you’re so much better than them. Like, in every aspect, you have so much more going on than their puny life.”

“Well, according to them, I don’t even have a life.” You grumbled, knees wedging themselves against your chest to provide the perfect burial for your head. 

Eddie sighed, choosing to sit up against the headboard of your bed to get your smushed face to follow his movements. “Hate to break it to your sweetheart, but getting shitfaced at some boring party isn’t exactly the epitome of having a life. I mean, sure, maybe to the people who thrive in small town shitholes like this place,” and luckily, Eddie was able to follow along with your airy giggles, “but you and I? Hell, no, babe, nuh-uh, we were made for bigger shit than Hawkins.” He smiled.

And you smiled, too. “Like New York?”

“Like New York.”

“Ooh, or somewhere pretty like Paris or Marseille?” Your head finally perked up.

“Sure… I mean, I think I can put up with French people for you.” He joked, letting that genuine laugh fall from your lips so effortlessly. “Kinda draw the line at eating snails, though.”

You gasped dramatically. “What?! You’re telling me you’ve never tried Benny’s escargots?!” Yeah, you were way cooler than any Courtney Keller clone. 

Eddie’s head leaned back, as his hearty laughs quietly fanned your face, until the atmosphere was finally at peace with steady breaths. “I mean it, sweetheart, just gotta look them right in the eyes, use those big, beautiful things you got, and tell them to fuck right off.” 

While undeniably making your heart patter in your chest, Eddie Munson’s comment also served to become the catalyst for the most humiliating moment of your life. With your face turned away into your knees to shield him from the lovesick smile you were embarrassingly about to flash him, you terribly missed the single opportunity it would have taken to redirect Eddie’s devastatingly—for you—short attention span away from the beaming jewel that rested in your still opened drawer. 

“What’s this?” Pink and glimmering under the lowlight of your lamps, Eddie couldn’t resist the encrusted jewel lined with silver. And you hummed in question, oblivious to his findings, turning around all too late. “In your nightstand.” His hand inching closer and closer.

In your nightstand, in your nightstand, in your nightstand, echoing like a nightmare on repeat, as your eyes widened at the epiphany that Eddie Munson had found your- “Don’t touch that!” Your father’s brow cocked, wondering what movie it was this time eliciting dramatic reactions from you. But Eddie’s calloused fingers had already grappled onto the silver handle, pulling out what was beyond mortifying for you, as the lamp shade had fully revealed what concealed item contained that sparkling decoration.

“Oh, damn…” Eddie blinked, swallowing the nothingness of his throat, as a stir began to tickle his naval just below the belt. Both sets of eyes glued to the bulbous end of your plug, though Eddie’s incoming smirk seemed to differentiate tremendously to your gaping mouth of disbelief, where you sat frozen in horror at the events transpiring before you. Held like a priceless jewel, Eddie examined your personal toy with a devious smile to pair. “You use this? Like, it really goes up your ass?” 

Your internal being was screaming at the top of your lungs, all masked by the stoic features of your face that refused to accept the reality of what was happening. “Eddie.” You managed to mutter out. “Please, put that back!” Harsh whispers smacked him in the face. “Eddie, I- sorry, just please, I’ll-”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” His free hand came to secure itself around your knee, allowing that tightening breath to finally make its escape from the anxious hold in your chest. “Really, I just- it’s cool, just caught me by surprise ‘s all.”

“Okay, well, can you please just put it back, and forget this ever happened?” You pleaded, wishing him away for the night, hoping to never meet his eyes, the same eyes that made your butt plug fall under scrutiny. “I swear, it’s not mine- well, it is, but, like, I didn’t buy it, my stupid friends, ugh-”

Palms digging into the sockets of your eyes, you wielded this as your punishment, hoping the pain would come to mask the utter humiliation of Eddie finding your personal belongings. Uptight, they joked. Laughing with those giggles you learned to despise as you unwrapped the decorative paper that covered your birthday present. A book, a journal, sketch pencils, or plant, any and everything that could have sufficed as personal presents that would have been highly appreciated. But your friends seeked another personal route, with the jabbing comment of wanting you to “loosen up.” And so what, gag gift or not, the use of that particular toy came about as no one else’s business, because while the contribution came at the expense of the devastating realization that your friends were grade A assholes, there was no judgment in exploring yours- GOD.

“Hey, seriously, sweetheart.” Eddie’s hands came to pry yours away, letting his lighthearted eyes cast away the round, sadness of yours. “I just, y’know, didn’t think you were like that- or into that.”

“Oh, right, because I’m so uptight and boring.” You defensively rolled your eyes at him, before attempting to move from your spot next to him, but Eddie worked quicker to keep you in place.

He spoke earnestly. “Hey, no, don’t put words in my mouth, I didn’t say that.” Eddie sighed, jumping through the endeavors to show his action didn’t come maliciously. “Seriously, you know that, alright. Don’t think of me as being that kind of person.”

You sighed in defeat. “Eddie, this is just beyond humiliating.” And he desperately just wanted to take a hold of your adorably sullen face. 

“I don’t think it’s humiliating.” He smiled, of course, it wasn’t his butt plug in his hand. “Think it’s kinda… intriguing. L-Like, sexy.” Your eyes peered to his height, searching for the laughter of a joke you swore was about to follow. But Eddie Munson had never lost the hold of your eyes, piercing his through yours to strike that flame in your body with a burning match. 

“Really?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.” His fingers continuously fiddling with your toy in hand, as his pants tightened at the mere thought of it being inside of you. What you did, late at night, to destress, finding an escape in the pleasure of being plugged, and played with. “Knowing what you like, testing your body, yeah, sweetheart, it’s really fucking sexy.” He slyly eyed you down, as your throat went dry under his dark stare. “Wouldn’t even mind seeing it.”

“W-What?” You stuttered out, thighs tightening to rub that aching thump brewing between your legs. “Like, um-”

“If you’re okay with it, Y/N,” Eddie took over for you, “I’d like to see how you make yourself feel good.”

Your mouth gulped like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words that were lost in the tangled disarray that was your overthinking mind, beating heart, fluttering tummy, and pulsating heat. But even that gnawing anxiety couldn’t deny you the unbearable urge to have Eddie Munson ravish you. “I- right now?” You spoke so quietly, nodding to the sentiment. 

“Yeah,” his tongue drenched his lips with one swipe, “let’s just say it’s for, uh, educational purposes, what do you say? Might even, y’know, get your mind off things. Relax. Feel good. Better than that fucking weed can do.” His ringed hand took a hold of the plastic baggie from your side to place away in your nightstand- inside, where you apparently held your most precious items. 

You swallowed the nerves away, allowing yourself the selfish pleasure of Eddie’s touch to wash away the heavy troubles of your mind. You want this. You deserve this. “Please?” So delicately spoken.

“Yeah?” He sneered. You nodded. Under his gaze, you made the move onto your knees to comfortably shift out of your pajama shorts, but your hands couldn’t move further than grasping onto your waistband, before Eddie made a quick call to stop you. “Woah, woah, what are you doin’, sweetheart?”

Your mouth opened to speak, but you froze in the awkward position, and eyed him worriedly. Surely, you couldn’t have possibly read this entirely wrong. “I- you said you wanted to see, like, taking off my clothes.” You meekly explained, as the burns of a suffocating bonfire blazed your cheeks with embarrassment. 

“No, c’mon, baby, you gotta let me be a gentleman first.” Eddie chuckled. “Can’t just start fillin’ you up without kissing you. Get over here.” He patted his lap. 

Your leg thrown over his had you seated on the thickness of Eddie’s thigh, as the skin of yours nipped at the graying denim of his black jeans. Plug aside, his fingers teased at the seam of your shorts to encourage your hands to place themselves on his chest, where he saw you hesitantly reaching for. Feeling the cracking print of his worn band tee had suddenly brought you a sense of contentment, allowing you to comfortably press your weight onto his legs, a sign of snugness that had him smiling at you lovingly. Goosebumps arose in the wake of Eddie’s fingers brushing down the sides of your thighs to connect with the creasing of your knees, finding the fold as leverage to bring you forth. 

Chest to chest. Nose to nose. “You gonna give me what I’ve been dreamin’ about?” Your lips grazed the oncoming stubble of his upper lip, just seconds of subtle, bare touches that were feeding into that aching desire igniting inside both of you, before fully securing your mouth upon his. Eddie’s lips became a suction, refusing to let you go, as his hand crept with security to the back of your neck. Your tiny moans melted into the kiss, with tenuous grinds against his bulge that bent the zipper of his jeans, all too deliciously for Eddie to handle, leaving his mouth drowning with saliva that slicked your lips with the taste of Eddie Munson. “Don’t have to worry about anything with me.” He murmured into you.

A hungry “mhm” was all that could be trusted to come out of you, as your hips rolled with greed, entirely fueled by his tantalizing hand that squeezed at any fat he could latch onto. 

“Everybody deserves a break, baby.” He cemented with firm pecks that left your lips raw with the sound of spit smacking to echo into your ear. “Just let me be nice to you- let me be so fucking nice to you.” You nodded against his face, nose bumping with harsh breaths, as neither of you could find the will to pull away. “Let’s- fuck, let’s get these off now, pretty.” Eddie snapped your stretchy waistband against your hip.

Tingles coursed through your legs, as you found the strength to dig your pedicured feet into the rug of your bedroom, and stand before him. His blunt nails gently scratched down your legs to invigorate you to declothe. Your bottoms slid down, pooling at your feet, before you stepped out to have your pussy on display for him. 

“Mm.” Eddie lowly hummed, enthralled by your mound, so perfectly decorated with the hairs of your pubes, and puffed between your thighs. “Damn, you standing here without your shorts makes me wanna listen to music.” He smiled.

Your brow pointed, gifting him the sight of your confused, little face that had him chuckling at you. “What?” You asked. 

“Y’know,” he snickered, “‘cause I wanna use your thighs as headphones.”

Your girlish giggled made him feel good about his awful joke, finding all enjoyment in seeing your hands cutely hide your face from the shyness of your nature, despite standing bare in front of him. “Eddie, that’s so corny.” You laughed. 

“But I got a smile out of you, s’all I care about.” His hands came to yours to twiddle with your fingers that differed from his thick ones, lavished in the loud jewelry he brandished. “So, uh, I imagine I gotta get you ready first, y’know, wet. Don’t wanna hurt you.” You softly nodded to confirm his words, suddenly feeling the tickles in your belly moisten you, as the realization of this actually happening was becoming truer by the second. “Somewhat of a handyman, myself, can grab some DW40 or somethin’.” 

“Eddie.” You flirtatiously chastised, mewling a whine of gauche, of which you had a real talent of making cute. 

He laughed. “Look, look, there’s no… romantic or- fuck, I dunno, chivalrous way of asking someone if you can eat their ass, so can I just eat you ass, sweetheart?”  

Eddie’s unabashed bluntness had your face burning with the intoxicating sensations of humiliation and want, brewing something nasty in you that always laid dormant under the unexplored aspects of your desires. Leave it to Eddie Munson to elicit that filth with the raunchy words of his mouth that already showed you just how sinfully good it could make you feel. Just for you, you hoped. But surely, Eddie had to have obtained these skills from some practice. And you wondered if that’s what you were. Practice for the next gal to have her world rocked. Or… just thoughts. Loathsome thoughts, the very things Eddie has dedicated to clearing from your pretty head, because someone with a face like yours, and being so sweet had no reason to suffer, as you did. Practice? God, no, you were just everything. So Eddie Munson made sure to give you everything. 

“Yeah.” You tenderly answered. “Just, um- well, I already showered for the night before you came here, but, like, I can, you know, clean up-”

“Baby-”

“Just so you’re comfortable with every-”

Roughed by heavy car parts and heated guitar strings, his all but soft hands felt so gentle in yours, with fingers dancing in the intertwine of a caring hold, flooding you with security, as his eyes without word complimented the contours of your figure silently but so earnestly. Eddie squeezed your hand. Eyes searching inside you through yours. “Stop, stop.” Your nervous rambling came to halt. “I don’t care. I know you’re clean, I wanna taste you.”

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath. A squeeze back to show love to his tough hand. “Yeah, okay.”

A smile breached his face. “That’s what I like to hear. C’mon, bend over for me, pretty, let me ease you from your mind.”

With the rumpled duvet sinking with the load of your limbs carrying you to the center, the air felt cold against the oozing slickness of your bare cunt, spreading its welcome with the curvature of your back with tits hung from their weight on your chest, as you allowed yourself the liberty of resting your head upon your pillow. The falling of Eddie’s creased sneakers against your floor appeared louder than reality when blood was pumping in your ears to the overworking beat of your heart. Naked and vulnerable, several deep breaths were taken to appease that anxious thought in the back of your head of what you might look like to a boy you liked so dearly, but nothing ameliorated you better than the waking touch of Eddie’s hand against your ass. 

“Fuck.” And suddenly his voice had a way of coaxing your hands to relax against the harsh hold of your sheets. His hands rounded the globes of your ass, feeling the fat wobble beneath, when a sharp spank landed on your right cheek, forcing you to suppress the whine with a metallic bite to your lip.

You mewled out your reprimand “Eddie! My parents are still here!” Having to whisper your frustrations, because now having a taste of what an Eddie Munson spanking could do, you wanted more, but couldn’t under a parental household. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He chuckled, a complete lie he muttered just to calm you, because forcing your ass to ripple with the slam of his hand would be nothing he’d apologize for. “It really is just so spankable.” Eddie’s hands worked to massage the brief sting of his abuse that had you quietly pushing back for more. “So fucking perfect, all soft n’ shit in my hands. Nice to just fucking grab, and spread apart like that- fuck.” Fingertips digging into the dough of your cheeks had pulled your pussy lips to reveal strings of sweet arousal, and two pulsating holes Eddie was desperate to fill. “That’s so fucking beautiful.” His thumbs came to brush the hairs of your lips, inspecting what he was about to cherish on his tongue. 

His soft proclamations had you smitten with a smile that would surely strike him to his knees if flashed at him, but you contained yourself in the soft fuzz of your sweater that pooled at your breast to allow him the pleasure of running his course down your spine. Just an exploration of your body, feeling all his could while he can, because while your mind had a funny way of overthinking, his did, too; Eddie Munson was slapping himself to right your worries, because one wrong word, one wrong touch, one wrong stroke of his tongue had him rampant in the head that you’d leave disappointed in his actions. Forever. 

“Eds.” But as Eddie Munson was there to ease you, you were there to ease Eddie Munson. You’ve nicknamed his status to something closer than drug dealer. And the salacious click of your tongue had you proving to wanting to push that status further.

Eddie smiled at the possibility. Your gasps were all that could be heard next, feeling the tip of his wet tongue browse your tight hole, as your ass swallowed him in. His mouth lathered you with the spit that once coated yours, though now preparing your asshole for the stretch he’d succumb you to, lips nipping at your hole that had you salivating your moans into your pillow. A feeling all too foreign for you, allowing someone in your most intimate area, and Eddie took it with such delicacy, manifesting all his love for your ass in the mewls he shoved between your cheeks. 

It quickly found itself to be something better than lubricating your ass with the use of your slick and prodding your hole with a curious finger. Eddie had managed to bring depraved sensations with the globs of his spit and the intrusion of his tongue, forcing itself to snake past the pulses that attempted to keep him out. “Fuck, you taste so good.” Pumps and pumps of his wet muscle tickling the walls of your tight ass, as his hands pinched your body in tight grips, shaking all fat in his vicinity to do everything to be consumed by you. 

“Eddie!” You hugged your pillow, suddenly feeling the fire of your warm sweater, as your ass danced along his face. “Want you to- mm! Want you to keep doing that!”

“Sorry if I’m takin’ long, baby.” Like spitting the taste of nicotine out of his mouth, a warm glob of saliva impurely landed on you, giving leeway for his thumb to massage your squeezing hole, before submerging in with your moans to accompany. “Just really wanna make sure you’re ready. Fuck, and, um, I know I said I just wanted to see how a plug works, but can I please eat at your pussy, baby, it’s right there.” God, he could smell you enticing him, seeing your pussy hole clench completely neglected as your asshole got the fun of his touch. 

“Yes, please, Eddie, just want your mouth on me.” Hips thrusting back to chase what left, leaving him with nothing to do but smile and ravage your thighs and hips and sweet kisses. 

“Nasty, little fucking thing, aren’t you?” He proffered no time to answer, giving himself what he wanted, face becoming smeared with the gleam of your wetness. Your pussy tickled under the scratch of his light stubble on your lips, the shoving of his nose in your sopping hole, and his tongue flicking of your clit igniting every prurient urge you ever tried to satiate on your own. 

That delicious tang of your cunt infiltrated every sense within him, surrounding him in nothing but you— the hearing of you, the sight of you, the smell of you, the touch of you, the taste of you. Your raw bud throbbed under the exploitation of his mouth, sucking the shockwaves to cause your thighs to quake.

“Too much. Eds- fuck me, I can’t, s-sto- uh!” Your hand reached back at an attempt to push him away from the stampeding orgasm you were too insecure to experience him seeing. But no matter the sting of your pretty nails digging into his scalp, nothing was stopping Eddie from seeing the sheer tremble, cry, and gush he could bring your body to. 

With his thick thumb plunging into your asshole, his free hand sadistically pulled at your cheeks to expose as much of your pussy as he could, leaving you to mewl at the stretch of your skin. The sole separation of your puffy lips had him moaning at the sight; such a tight pussy hole aching for something to fill it, needing to squeeze down to spark your greedy orgasm. “Shit, fucking pussy pulsating just for me.” His tongue buried itself inside, letting his finger fall to pinch at your vibrating bud, rewarding it with the tight circles of rubs that felt unbearable. “Taste so fucking delicious!” His words were barely eligible in the crevices of your cunt, but they provided all sensation to push you into your tonic state. “Cum for me, fucking cum!”

Fucked by his tongue and finger, you no further denied him, unleashing a gush of your spent to ravish his mouth, as your holes kept him in place with their tightening hold. If it wasn't for the fault of your parent’s bedroom being on the other side of your home, they would have surely heard the vulgar corruption of sweat and sex condensing the air of their daughter’s bedroom.

“Fuc- mm, uh…” Like a Pavlov dog, your pillow had soaked itself wet from the salivation of your chewed lips, as your legs shook under the grasps of Eddie’s hands. 

“Shhh, baby, I’m gonna put it in. Let me play with it.” When limbs went numb after orgasmic bliss, the dealer knew now was the time your body would accept it. Gaping from the size of his thumb, Eddie’s gentle insertion made the process enjoyable, placing a delicate kiss to your asshole, before your plug was indulged in the tightness of your ass. Now crowned with a pretty, pink jewel to top. And you mewled, softly shaking your ass to adjust to your decoration, trying to find feeling in your shaky legs. “God, you sound so fucking cute.” He rubbed your ass with groping hands. “Don’t let that get into your head, though, I’m still in control here.” Eddie chuckled. 

Despite falling limp, Eddie’s strength found no trouble in pulling you onto his lap, once he fell back onto his calves. While a hammering bulge was fighting back against the restraints of his cuffed belt, you couldn’t deny the fact that he didn’t feel the satisfaction of a bursting orgasm, yet your mind pondered on the reasons as to why his heart was pounding so profusely against your spinning head. Your hand splayed against his chest, as you peered up at him. “Are you nervous?”

Eddie Munson swallowed thickly. And ignored you completely. “You’re a really dirty fucking girl for playing with yourself like that all alone.” His hands pinched at the sweaty skin of your back, as your face contorted with the creases of confusion at his now unnecessary comment. “But… now you have me, though, right? Gonna play with me always?” Though, any confidence Eddie previously had speaking to you that way was gone under your scrutinizing stare, and you could hear it in the slight quiver of his voice. Because Eddie Munson wasn’t trying to dirty talk you. No, Eddie Munson was trying to seek your desire to want him around. 

And you gave it to him. “Yeah.” Free of any sexual suggestion, because Eddie knew you saw through his assertive facade, piercing at his vulnerability and choosing to accept it through the deep breath of relief of his nose. 

With his tongue swiping at the surrounding areas of his lips, you assisted his clean-up, thumbing at the gleam that coated his chin, subsequently letting the burden of his heavy head fall into your gentle hands. “Y’know, I see you a lot at parties- like, more than just us doing deals, I see you.” He cleared his throat. “And I’ve had this thing. This, uh, really big thing for you for a long time now, Y/N. A-And I know it’s your friends dragging you to these parties, but, I dunno, when I see you you just look so… meek, I guess, but like in a good way. Like, this whole elegance you got to you.”

Both you and Eddie stumbled into soft giggles at his boyish articulation, trying to grasp the concept of feelings from a man who’s never been graced with the excitement of committed reciprocation. But there was one thing for certain, Eddie Munson was damn sure trying this time. “Wouldn’t necessarily call myself elegant.” You chuckled. 

“No, but you are.” He earnestly protested. “Y’know, you show up, not even wanting to, not saying a word, just keeping to yourself, and everyone just looks at you- notices you.” 

In a town of Stacy Withers, Chrissy Cunninghams, Lucy Colemans, and Courtney Kellers, that felt like a big, fat lie smeared in your face. You brushed the stinging sentiment with quiet laughters of pain. “No one notices me, Eddie-”

“I notice you, Y/N.” He urged you to see, hands molding onto your body for fear of you not seeing what he gets to so lovingly see. His lips landed upon your cheek, brush-like strokes, dragging his affection to the canvas of your face, before a devout kiss seared your mouth to his. The swelling muscles of his arms squeezed to tighten around your back, savoring your being, and exploding when your sweater-clad arms mimicked his fervor around his neck, experiencing first-hand what was Eddie Munson’s first requited love. “Just to be here,” his lips spoke against yours, pausing to kiss away the ache that fell constant when your tongue wasn’t dancing upon his, “playing with you,” your mouths clicked with the slobber of his spit, ridden with the tart honey of your pussy juices, the same ones beginning to sog the stitching of his jeans, “just cracking that armor you got on, it’s heaven on Earth for me.” Your lips strung apart, as your thumbs soothed over his chasing movements, caressing the beating pulse point of his neck. But where you smiled, Eddie continued to try to kiss your upturn beam. “You’re not kissing me, why aren’t you kissing me?” He whined, trying to pull a pucker out of you. “Just smiling, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” giggling against his hungry lips. 

“As pretty as you are smiling, I need you kissing me, baby.” Eddie playfully admonished with a hefty squeeze to your hip in a puerile way of presenting his frustration. 

“It’s just,” late nights of perfecting the solos of various guitar sequences allowed your fingertips to skim over the delicate purpling of his under eyes, “I don’t know, Eddie, the night has just been really shitty, and you’ve somehow managed to make it a lot better.”

“Probably because I gave you one hell of an orgasm.” This time you’ll allow his refusal to accept the complimenting sincerity of your words, masking the mush of giddiness inside him with a comment of sex, because at least this one made you laugh in his hold. 

“And other things, Eddie.” But there you were to peel that mask away, and dump your kindness of wanting him all over his walls. “You gave me other things.”

A building appreciation for yourself. 

The cynicism of his eyes jumped hurdles to search for any fibbery he may have found himself trapped into, but you were so warm. To the touch, your skin sent his hands aflame with sparks of desire from the true benignity of your being. Warm eyes, warm lips, warm heart, working to secure a blanket of security over his shoulders from the sheets of coldness both of you have been offered by those who cared too little for your wellbeing. “Y/N, I need to tell you something.” His mouth moved without thought, as his body grew sore of ignoring the very thing it wanted: you. “Look, I’m just gonna jump right in, and say it, I want you to be mine- I want to be your boyfriend.” His eyes bounced around the brightening features of your face, creasing with lines to make room for the smile that enamored his chest. “But first I gotta prove to you.”

“Prove to me?” You gently prodded, mind working overtime to control your hands from balling the fabric of his shirt from uncontained excitement. 

“See, I kinda just got this thing in my head, y’know, that I gotta prove my worth to you-”

“Eddie-”

“No, I know it sounds bad, but really, it’ll just be for my own peace of mind.” He assured you with the earnestness of his voice soothing the concern you were about to tackle to confirm Eddie Munson was, in fact, enough. “I know it might not be the biggest deal to you, but I just wanna be able to take care of you- like, please you. Make sure I can make you cum.” He whispered into your face. 

You wondered where he was for the last five minutes, somehow forgetting the euphoria he had just pulled from you with the sole use of his tongue. “Didn’t- I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but didn’t you already… just do that?” 

“I mean make you cum l-like couples do.” He bashfully iterated, eyes falling down, as if he hadn’t spoken the dirtiest things to you before. Though, perhaps, the beginning stages of what would blossom into a loving relationship had the boy suddenly at the age of fourteen, wondering when that momentous occasion of a first girlfriend would come. Having sex a year later surely doubled the probability, though Nicole Summers wasn’t exactly one that stuck around to find out. “Won’t exactly feel too great if the only way I can get my girlfriend off is by one single way. Let me prove to you that I can be good for you.”  

“Quite presumptuous of you to believe I would even say yes to you asking me out.” You’d a hundred percent say yes. 

Eddie smiled, before the strength of a sole arm entrapped you soundly against his chest, as his torso dropped forward to lay back against the plushness of your bed. Before a sharp moan could elicit the concern of your parents, Eddie brought forth his mouth to yours, once his bulge caught a steady rhythm against your buzzing clit. “Don’t think,” his hot breath concocted with yours in the heated makeout, “I got to see your tits.” Too neglected for your liking, your sweater found itself bunched under your chin, under glowing lamp lights that shadowed your peaked nipples. “Fuck me, pretty girl, just too,” a kiss to your valley, “ fucking,” a kiss to your breast, “perfect.” Eddie Munson swallowed your pert bud whole. 

“Mm, that’s so nice.” You quietly mewled, with polished fingernails delicately weaving through the tousled curls of his head, sweaty and dampened from a whirlwind of nightly activities. 

His hands groped at the fat, squeezing them together to tongue at your nipples, harsh flicks that had you arching into his face. “Just too fucking beautiful for this world.” He nuzzled into your chest, his nose flaring hard to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume, crisp and clean just for him to lose himself in. 

“Are you going to fuck me now?” A guttural groan burrowed its way out of Eddie’s throat, crawling forward to shove kisses along your cheek that had your head pressing into the softness of your pillow.

“Not gonna worry about your folks?” When the Indianapolis Colts saw a hopeless comeback of being seven to twenty-seven against the Dallas Cowboys, your father knew to save him the anger of witnessing another pass interference with a click of a button that blackened the screen; a definitive call for the night. The heavy steps of your father’s movements followed along the stairs, wood creaking with the shift of his weight to bring him amongst the bedroom doors of the second floor. One look at your door. As every night would go, a quick knock at your door would allow your father entry into your room, hopefully catching you in that green gunk of a facemask you’d like to smear on your face, to provide your father the perfect joke to hear that loving, “dad, stop!” But given the crotchety tone of your previous engagement, your father guessed he’d follow the the statement if his gifted ‘#1 DAD’ mug, and leave you for the night. Embarrassing you will have to wait for Saturday morning’s event. And off to bed he went. 

You hadn’t even realized your luck, allowing Eddie Munson to bruise your neck, oblivious to the predicament you slid by. “We can be quiet.” You pleaded, running your legs along his to feel the scratch of his itchy jeans, desperate to receive any and all sensations against your exfoliated skin. 

“Open your legs for me more.” Your thighs pried open to his body, sanctioning him the authority to squeeze all he could to bring lines of tingles to your core. “Good girl, feels so fucking good to finally be touching you. Your plug in good?” Sitting snug between your cheeks, where a sticky stream of your cream pooled down your ass, bringing an extra shine to the gem of your plug. 

“Mhm, feels nice.” You dug into the sheets of your bed, hips pivoting forward to the chase of Eddie’s thumb massaging into the dough of your inner thighs, hoping they’d make their move to examine your pussy with the prying of his curious fingers. 

“Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable ‘s all.” He mumbled. A hand invading the crease of your thigh and hip had him softly chuckling to himself; quiet guffaws of disbelief to the radiating fever warmth that was congenial from the suffocation of your meaty thighs.

Your bitten lips twisted into a pout. “Why are you laughing at me?” 

“Not laughin’ at you, baby.” He laughed. Eyeroll. “Just love that pussy heat, y’know?” Eddie callowly smiled, bringing forth a burn to your cheeks, as your watched wrinkles of titillation annex his face from the sheer look of your natural body. “I dunno, guess it kinda makes my head a little bigger knowing she’s waiting for me.” He became delirious on the hypnotics of your moving hips. “Fuck, want me to touch you, pretty girl?”

You were falling desperate under his command. Your nails dug their crescent shapes into his hand, skin flooding with the pumping veins from the stinging rush, an urgent call to have him finally give in. “Please, Eddie, been waiting too long.”

“Ah-ah, have some fucking manners first, not gonna get it that easily without asking nicely.” He tortuously tantalized with the coming of his hand beginning to lightly rake the wisps of your manicured pubes. A whine of despair was all he was met with, nothing but your hips attempting to gyrate his hand to your needy clit. “C’mon, don’t get all greedy on me, baby, remember this is about you, you’ll get it all eventually. Just need you to feel everything as much as possible. Let me just rub the outside; up and down.” The weight of his fingers interfered with the glue of your slick, now pulling at your pussy lips to showcase the rawness of your cunt, strung by webs of your syrup that had him itching to shove his tongue in once more. “And maybe, I’ll just take my finger,” his pointer, pushed out ever so lightly to tickle the wet skin below your pussy, before the rigid callouses dragged up to spark the nerves of your puffy labia, catching a rub to your erecting clit, “and touch you whenever I feel like it.”

Your breath became caught in strings of gasps. “Eds.” Purring with delight at the tease of his finger brushing at your impulses of sensation. “Please, please, can I have you?”

“Just wanted to see that sexy fucking smile you do when you get all excited.” Eddie admired, reveling in the twinkle that bedecked your face to light up from the touch of his fingers. “You are so fucking hot, man.” Mumbling to himself, his head refuting the belief of this being reality. But your body moved with the liveliness of feelings, your voice rang with melodies of harmony, and your smell infused his skin with the sweetness of sugar and oils; no matter how hard Eddie Munson’s eyes welded shut with dubiety, there was no dying the realness of a woman before him. “Wanna play a little game with you, baby.” 

“A game?” Your voice softly upped in review of him, as he climbed over with a heavy hand turned soft to pet your head with loving strokes that matched the brief attachment of his lips to yours. 

“Yeah, just a little one, nothing to worry about, just love seeing your face n’ everything.” He vaguely detailed, letting your mind lose itself to the softness of his peppered kisses. “First, you gotta any names you wanna call me: master, sir, daddy?” 

Eddie watched your eyes shy away from his brashness, adorably being unable to endure the heat of his words. “Um,” your teeth pinched into your lips, “I-I think sir’s kinda nice.” You timidly admitted, only ever divulged by the encouragement of Eddie’s affection. 

And he smiled against your lips, dragging his devotion to your cheek, temple, and forehead. “I think it’s kinda nice, too.” From you? Anything would have his body stirring. Eddie abruptly sat up from your body, his mangled hair briefly frizzing from the overhead reach of his shirt, that left his torso blank of any band tee he’d previously adorned. His abdomen came to light as a soft tummy lined with the harsh crevices of flexed muscles in a strive to show off a physique he thought would look best for you. But your warmhearted hand relaxed the strain of his stomach with a single stroke to his naval, sending shockwaves with every graze against his happy trail. 

In the midst of pulling away the worn leather belt from the clinking metal buckle, your words swiftly halted his movements. “You’re very pretty, Eddie.” 

His head bowed, soft laughter coming through the nostrils of his nose, as he shook his head with a smile that adamantly won over his face, despite a hefty attempt of biting his lip to keep it down. “Feel like I should be the one telling you that, look at you.”

“Would it be so wrong for you to hear the truth, too?” A smile so pure, it shot straight to his heart, causing a speed bump to the rhythmic beating of his chest. 

His cheeks darkened with vulnerability. “I- yeah, you’re really about to fucking get it…” both of your soft laughter mingled into the air, as he tugged the length of leather from his belt loops, “…and thank you.” His lips pressed to your inner knee, whilst undoing his pants. But then, he paused. Eddie Munson had not even the slightest idea of how easily you were able to undress before him. Perhaps, it simply fell down to the principle of the matter that Eddie Munson was already head over heels crazy about you before you ever spoke to him. He’d like to thank Chrissy Cunningham- or, actually, whatever stress it was she was enduring for being the sole reason why she went seeking him that fateful Friday afternoon. Now, he understands the grossness of that sentiment, but, truthfully, as an aspiring entrepreneur, the problems of your clientele surely become the profit of your business. And while he wasn’t exactly looking to better this capitalist venture, it did, in fact, lead him to you. Standing in the back, watching reddening leaves fall to the ground, under the guise of being your friend’s lookout. C’mon, that rotting bench hadn’t seen company for years, Chrissy Cunningham was merely weary of his presence and needed backup. But gladly so, as for once, someone’s uncalled for judgment allowed him the privilege of staring at their pretty friend. So excuse him for suddenly falling insecure about the look of his body. You were quite literally everything to Eddie Munson. Would he be for yo-

“It’s okay.” What? “I want to see you, Eddie.” You smiled so perfectly. 

Without notice, stirs of anxiety turned into fluttering butterflies in his belly. And Eddie Munson smiled back. Following the squeaks of your bed, he headed off, taking a hold of what was his pants and boxers into a tight grip, and finding the confidence to rid himself of any further clothing. Springing from confinement, seven inches of weight bobbed against his naval with a smack, as you relished in the sight of his cock with bulging veins that strained to pump blood to his scarlet, mushroom tip. Any concerns about the appearance of his area abruptly left his rampant mind, after witnessing the dragging pull of your plump lips opening for your mouth to widen in awe. Your thighs rubbing in heat, a desperate attempt to satiate that rubescent, needy clit that thudded with tingles from the mere sight of him naked. 

Yeah, nothing to worry about- in fact, quite a large inflation to his ego. “Decent enough, huh?” His lips twisted with a sneer. 

A deprived “mhm” moaned its way out of you. 

Rushing to place himself between the warmth of your legs, Eddie positioned his cock to sit heavy against your tummy. His large balls of cum became immersed with the slick of your pussy, as his velvet skin rubbed against your drenched folds to fully show you the length of his member; nudging it to your belly button, whilst the chaos of his pubic hairs titillated your thighs. “This game, baby, the only thing with it is that you can only cum when I tell you.” His eyes kept a close watch of your rippling stomach with every smack of his cock he caused. “You understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” You sighed, becoming antsy with the tickle on your abdomen from the sheer weight of his dick. 

“That’s the right fucking answer,” he darkly chuckled, “just gonna start playing with you, pretty girl.” His hand directed the fat tip of his cock to butt at your clit, forcing your hips to jolt awake with the electricity of pressure against your sensitive nub. “Just like that, you fucking like that, don’t you?”

“M-More, please.” You clawed at your bed sheets, stressing the material with every rub of his length against your cunt. 

“Nah, baby, gonna treasure this, take it nice and slow.” He agonized, sucking in breaths with every tense of his balls, as you brought pulsating tingles to his body by doing nothing, but laying pretty. “Fuck, you really do something to me, whatever you got going on is doing a fucking number on me, sweetheart.” Saying all the right things to you, his words shot straight to your pussy, making it impossible to hold back your soft moans. “Honestly, baby, not really one to talk about my feelings, I guess, but you- everytime I come by knockin’ on your door, I just get these nerves n’ shit. Gotta talk to myself, too,” he husky laughter pierced so sexily, “honestly, like ‘damn, gotta pull yourself together, can’t let her pretty ass see you like this.’” Eddie’s cock dragged through your folds, separating strings of wetness to marinate on your raw cunt. “And I just wanted to kiss you for the longest, wanted to be right here playing with this fucking pussy.”

“I want you, fuck.” You heaved, hips chasing an itch he refused to have you revel in. “Always want you, Eddie.” 

His cock spurred excitedly. “Shit, sweetheart, can’t say things like that to me, fuck.” Eddie’s tip ran through your slit, the swollen head now prodding at your hole, just a first glimpse of the stretch you were about to endure. “God, just having me lay here with you, seeing you, hearing you, touching you, it’s the greatest thing ever. Does that feel good baby? Like me teasin’ you?”

“Yes, sir, please, Eddie.” You hummed, trailing a high that was building too slowly for your liking. “Want more.”

“Mm, really like hearing you say that, love your pretty, little voice.” Eddie’s free hand dropped by your head, supporting his weight to hover over you, letting his unruly hair cascade a waterfall around you. “As a matter of fact, you should speak up. Tell me you wanna be a good girl for me.” So close, his cock was barely grazing the entrance of your cunt, all before tortuously leaving your warmth to dissipate that spark in your body. And up above, Eddie was enjoying the show of your contorting face of frustration. “C’mon, you can say it.”

“I wanna be your good girl, sir.” You pleaded, taking a grasp around his supporting wrist to help find your rhythm against his teasing dick. “I promise, I’m your good girl, just let me have it.”

“Yeah, you wanna be my good girl.” He mocked, aligning his slick head of precum and your arousal to your clenching hole that oozed more wetness. “Here’s the thing, you’re already mine, so who am I to deny you- mm, fuck!”

Falling chest to chest, your nails clawed up his back at the burning sensation of his girth breaching your seizing walls. Eddie’s forehead dropped to yours, as the mixture of both your hot breath confined what little space was left between your gaping lips. “Slow, slow!” You urged him, as his bangs crumpled against your head with a fervent nod to listen to your pleads. Every clasp of your cunt had him harshly breathing through his nose, fighting the onslaught of sensations that were subsequently bringing him closer to the edge far faster than anticipated. “Uh! Fuck, you’re so big!” Inch by inch, your body was giving way to the pleasure of his deliberate intrusion, welcoming him in with a warm hug from your cunt. 

Nearly lacerated by his nails, Eddie hoped the balling of his fist would defuse the overwhelming feelings churning in his chest, but suddenly being submerged balls deep into your body had his mouth spewing with all he felt for you. “Fuck, you really don’t understand what you do to me.” He whined against your face. “First time I saw you, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I don’t really get in situations like these often- hell, fucking ever, but you! I just had to do whatever I could to get you. Honestly, it kinda pissed me off.” Eddie breathlessly chuckled against your lips, driving his greedy hips to drag his cock along your walls. “Holy s-shit, fuck, how the hell was I letting some girl have this affect on me. But you’re not just some girl, Y/N. God, mm, you’re fucking everything.” 

Leave it to Eddie Munson to confess his feelings from the tightness of your pussy. 

“Eddie!” His cock found no trouble in abusing that spot within you that had your legs occupying his waist like a lifeline, toes curling from the rapture that trembled your legs. Your hands forced his head to your lips, swallowing each other's moans to consume the desperation of night. Where spit messily slicked your lips, a ring of cream surrounded Eddie’s cock that smear the wetness against your pussy. 

“Fuck, just wanna do everything for you.” His lips dragged against yours, bodies bumping with every pound of skin slapping Eddie caused with his dick. “Got your holes all plugged up, nasty, little fucking thing.” Pursuing that desperate high, your pelvis began meeting his with an impassioned gyrate; the swollen head of his cock bruising your g-spot, all whilst the tickle of his pubes itched at your inflamed clit. “You wanna come, baby- fuck, I know you do!” His stomach clenched with every squelch your pussy created under the squeezing hold of his dick’s continuous reentry. 

Licking and rubbing your cunt to a tender mess of cum and slick had your second orgasm of the night pummeling quickly under Eddie’s intrusive cock, and you were pleading to see white stars from the fucking of his body to yours. “Yes, please, please, sir! Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna- mm!” 

Sweat coated your rubbing bodies together, where you nipples abraded against his to have you wailing with all sensations, yanking that orgasmic string within you. “Squeezing down on my fucking cock, yeah, baby, you can cum, but not until I say so.”

Eddie Munson was torturing himself when his body stilled inside you, but seeing your desperate face twist into a crying mess was far better than dumping inside you within the first five minutes. “No, no, sir, please!” Your hips attempted to fuck themselves deeper onto his cock, but Eddie’s harsh hand imprinted itself to the fat of your curves, holding your down from any endeavors to cumming. 

“Hey, hey, listen, listen, sweetheart.” He took a hold of your jaw, forcing your eyes upon his. “Remember, you’re my good girl; gotta be good for me.” All along this is what Eddie wanted, turning your mind into deprived mush to cloud those overcrowding thoughts that hurt your little head. And he watched it transpire before him, seeing you desperately nod to his words, completely at his mercy with full trust to care for you. “I know I’m being mean, baby, but you gotta believe me when I say this will feel so good.” His puffing breath fanned your face. “I’m so proud of you, so proud of you getting all that shit off your chest, so proud of you letting me play with your holes, being this perfect, dirty girl for me. Now, I want you to come, okay, just gonna play with your pussy-”

“Ah, fuck!” Your body jolted under the tight, circling rubs of his rough fingers against your clit. 

“Sh, sh, don’t want your folks disturbing us, baby.” His devilish sneer taunted your face. “Just tell me you wanna come, okay? Say it.”

Your lips incoherently spewed out. “Iwannacomesir-” 

“Slower, pretty girl, slower.” Eddie demanded, with each pinch to your buzzing pearl fueling that plucking string of hot cum inside you to burst. 

“I want to cum, sir.” Your trembling hands secured his hot cheeks to bring him forth, as your lips whispered against his with tiny kisses. “I… want to… cum, sir.”

Eddie smiled against your lips, before planting a fat sucker on them. “Good, now shut the fuck up, and you better listen to me.” With your heads bound closely, all of the world became lost in the homey environment within Eddie’s curtain of hair. Where his two-in-one shampoo clashed with your coconut hair mask, and the smell of sex fermented the humid air of hot breath, Eddie began hammering his cock into your sopping pussy, with spurts of wetness jumping to souse your connecting bodies. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” He huffed. “Anyone can see that plain as day- so fucking incredible. You deserve the fucking world, deserve to be taken care of, and I swear, baby, I swear on my life to be that man.” Eddie moaned into your ear, his wet lips exciting every nerve in your body with hot whispers, that had you mutilating his skin with streaks of unbearable red. “Just feel me playing with you, pleasing you, only you, pretty girl- f-fuck! Tell me I’m yours, fucking tell me.” 

Your legs tightened around his backside, driving the heels of your feet to the tiny plush of his ass, forcing him deeper into your cunt. With your hands caressing the beauty of his face, you managed to find the strength to open your screwed shut eyes, and meet the round ones that were pouring desperation into yours. “You’re mine, Eddie.” Spoken so delicately from the hoarseness of your throat, whilst the filthiest actions were occurring to your body. “You’re all mine, Eddie. No one else. Just you.” Sealing it with a searing kiss that had him sobbing groans onto your tongue, in a heated mix with your whines. 

“When I tell you, cum for me, okay, baby? Ten.” His heavy hand forced a grip to your leg, hiking them higher for an angle unbeknownst to you, leaving you to squeal into the crevice of his neck. “Nine… eight… seven, love how fucking greedy your body is, almost there, my pretty girl.” Eddie’s balls were seizing with twitches, as his engorged cock was building up a hot load that was on the precipice of flooding you. “ Six, look right at me, five… four, wanna see your pretty face when you finish.” Too much pressure was mounting on your cervix, as your body began losing itself to the thrills of an impending orgasm. “Three… two, tell me you wanna cum.”

“I wanna cum!”

“Louder!”

“I wanna cum on your cock!” Singing it to his ears with cries of harmony had his body cramping with pleasure. 

“One, fucking do it, cum for me!” Your back arched with the snap of your orgasm, a scorching gush of creamy white invading his cock with unfathomable squeezes and squelches. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… f-fuckkkk!” A hose of his sizzling seed fucked itself into you with stuttering hips that had you wailing into his buff shoulder, nails bloodying his alabaster skin with reds of passion, as your bodies convulsed in the aftershocks of pure hedonism. “T-There you go, fucking ride it out, sweetheart, ride it out with me.” His muscles flexed under the intense explosion of his bust; beads of musky sweat falling down the length of his body to infuse the creamy cum that matted his pubic hair. “God, you’re so fucking sexy, so fucking beautiful.” 

“Auugh!” Your fogged mind whined in the lost stars of white that flashed your vision. 

“It’s okay, my baby, just relax, you’re alright.” Eddie brought you back to reality, peppering kisses of adoration along your perspired skin, cementing every word he ever uttered to you in the heat of the moment. A brief cry of discomfort from his cock pulling out had him comforting your body with gentle caresses, all while witnessing the artistry that was a pearly concoction of both your hot cum painting the pink jewel of your butt plug with a filthy iridescent. “Fuck, you really are fucking mine, Y/N.”

Your soft voice ripped through the sounds of heavy breaths, as your body felt like waves of crashing water under his touch. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

You weakly laughed. “Yeah, you can definitely be my boyfriend.” As if that was ever a question.  Your gentle mewls echoed into his ears, as his thick fingers made the move to smoothly twist out your butt plug from your needy hole, that felt the need to keep its clamping clutch onto it. Eddie swore under his breath, falling in love with the winking gape of your asshole. While a clean-up was surely at hand, your beckoning voice had him dropping your toy to lay by your side. His lips found solace in the company of your own, as he brought your sticky being of sweat and cum close, snug under the protective arms of his body. “Yeah, I’m your boyfriend, and you’re my girlfriend.” Eddie Munson’s lips upturned to a damning smile that had you clinging to his closeness for the rest of the night.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

[usedtobecooler]

follow me down | steve harrington x reader

a/n: one tiny conversation with @loveshotzz caused a fire to be lit under my ass yesterday, thus this debauchery was written. it's good to be out of the smut slump! 2.3k words.

tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, gloryhole, dubcon, blowjobs, reader has a vagina, alcohol and drug mentions, anonymous sex acts, dirty talk, pet names, rough oral sex, masturbation, no protection.

Maybe this was a terrible, awful, bad idea, but as you sit on your knees in the darkened bathroom stall, you can't shake the nervous thrum of excitement vibrating through your entire body at what's about to take place.

This wasn't what you came out with your friend to do tonight — the plan was to go to this new kink bar on Main, party together and maybe take somebody home, if you were interested enough.

The drinks went down way too easily, the bass of the sensual music flowing through you both as you danced together, grinding up against one another without a care in the world. People were staring, of course they were, two hot women in latex in the middle of a sex club? It was inevitable.

Happening upon the secret bathroom was no mistake, your girlfriend pulling you in through the door and laughing in delight as she showed you, multiple private rooms behind blood red doors, slick grey door knockers adorned on them.

"It's all legit, I promise. No creeps, the guys on the door know better than to let them in here, especially Eddie, he would never," she'd assured, "let loose, babe. Put that talented mouth of yours to good use. I'll be in the next one over."

You eye up the stall, draped in red lighting, creating an aura. Taking in your surroundings for the next who-knew how long, with wide, curious eyes.

The hole in the wall itself was quite wide, clearly meant to be there as the plaster is perfectly cut in a circle, cute multicolored sparkles frame it alongside sharpied numbers and lewd messages.

There's a little box at your side, full of various single-use items you may need or want — disinfectant wipes, gum, breath spray, condoms, lube. You giggle, pleasantly shocked by the attention to detail that the club put into it all.

It's clear that this is what these stalls are meant for, to live out the deepest of fantasies in some sort of safety.

It's almost comforting, makes you want to go ahead with it even more, as you sit patiently waiting for somebody to enter the stall on the other side. Busying yourself with using a disinfectant wipe, cleaning any part of the stall that you think you'll come into contact with.

You're so preoccupied that you don't even notice somebody else has entered the room, until you hear the stall door next to your own click shut. Jeans so tight they almost look painted on ghost past the hole in the wall, nervous hands rubbing at the material.

"What the fuck is the etiquette in here?" The guy laughs, to himself mostly, no other greeting, and it's almost endearing. The nervous lilt in his voice obvious.

"I was expecting you to come in here and just shove your dick through the hole, to be fair," you giggle, picking up your drink and taking a sip, "nice of you to talk first, though. Hi, I guess?"

"Hi," he laughs back, breathlessly. You watch as he shuffles around on the other side, nothing more than a thigh and hand in your eyeline, the side of a zipper. Tighter fitting in that area than usual.

"So, do you wanna do this?" You ask, just for confirmation, veins thrumming with nerves and something akin to excitement, "I think I know the answer already, your jeans are, uh, very fucking tight."

"Shit, yeah. You— you're sure you're okay with this, right?" The man's voice is high pitched, whiny and a bit desperate, the clink of his belt against the stall wall enough to shock you, "I just— I don't do this, ever. But my friend he, he gave me these pills 'n I'm just so fucking horny, and you're, well. You're here and offering, God, I wanna."

You clench your thighs together, teetering between both knees as you get comfortable, "I'm okay with it, promise. I wanna, too." You confirm, voice lilted and dripping in desire, "Can you at least tell me your name, though? Wanna know who I'm moaning for."

"Oh, shit," he grunts, shuffling a little so you can see the tips of the auburn loafers he's wearing under the frame of the stall, "I'm Steve. Fuck, dunno if I should've used my real name but, who cares, right?"

Steve.

"Okay then, Steve," you gasp breathily, squeezing your thighs together once again, relishing in the relief it gives the dull ache on your clit, "wanna drop your pants and show me what you're working with?"

You sound far too confident, so confident that you shock yourself. Your hands shake, brain foggy still from one too many tequila shots and bubblegum flavored cocktails. But, Steve's right there and unzipping his pants in your eyeline, your bleary eyes zoning in on tan, slender fingers that you suddenly wish were inside of you.

"Can you— are you okay with me telling you what to do?" Steve asks cautiously, pulling open his jeans and getting ready to drop them. You bite at your glossy lip, the way the denim hangs almost frames the thick bulge in his tight black underwear. You store the picture in your memory for later.

"I like being told what to do," you admit, soft and sweet, "sometimes my brain gets all fuzzy when I'm into it, and I need to be reminded how to act, y'know?"

Steve lets out a strangled noise, a soft chuckle echoing in the room immediately after, "I'll remind you, honey. Don't worry your pretty little head about that."

Your confirmation, the air of arousal in the small space, suddenly has Steve flipping like a switch. You watch with wide eyes as he tugs down his offending clothing covering his thighs, pushing the layers down to his knees, out of his way. His cock springs out, weighed down by its own sheer size, thick and cut.

"Christ," you mutter, your mouth watering, and you desperately grab for the drink you carelessly abandoned at your side, swigging the last of it for a bit of courage. The burning of dark alcohol settling deep and warm in your gut.

You stare unashamedly as he grips the base of his dick, strong fingers wrapping around it, somehow looking dwarfed now. Your jaw already aches and he hasn't so much as pushed the tip past your lips.

"Open wide, honey," Steve's voice drips in sex as he coos his pet name for you, domineering and strong, a very different version of the man who came into the room just minutes earlier, though you can't say it's not a pleasant change.

Your mouth hangs open, tongue lolling out over your bottom lip, putting on a show for the man who can't even see you. You shuffle a little closer, going cross eyed as the wet tip of Steve's cock slides through the hole. You tentatively flick your tongue against the weeping slit, getting a taste of him in your mouth, before wrapping your lips around the head, gently suckling on the salty skin.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Steve groans, sighing blissfully as you start up a steady rhythm, allowing saliva to pool on your tongue and help glide your way along his thick shaft, jaw unhinging as if on autopilot for him. The clean, musky taste and scent of him driving you fucking insane, your hands coming up to touch the wall at either side of your head as you bury in further, choking yourself on him.

You know you're sickeningly wet for it, for Steve. Your core runs hot and aches as you lick and suck every inch of his cock you can get to, whining high in the back of your throat as his salty pre slides down your throat, coating your tastebuds in him. It's almost embarrassing how much you enjoy it, losing yourself in making him feel good.

"Y'r so good at this, baby. Fuck me," Steve's forehead thumps against the stall, jolting you slightly, has your rhythm faltering momentarily, teeth grazing ever so slightly down his shaft. He groans, loud and unashamed, punches his hips forwards until you're moaning around your mouthful, vibrations shocking the prettiest sounds from his lips.

"You're rough, huh? Hands on your knees, like a good girl," Steve grunts, rocking his hips into the stall and pushing deeper into your mouth until he's hitting your gag reflex — your throat tightens automatically at the intrusion and he moans, animalistic and needy.

Your hands move on instinct, coming to rest on your thighs, just below the hem of your dress. Your fuzzy head does the work for you, relaxing your jaw and throat for the impending assault. Your panties drip with arousal, eyes rolling into the back of your head, the idea of being used like this doing unspeakable things to your body.

Strong, tan hands wrap around the top of the stall, gold rings glinting in the low mood lighting in the room. You whine, loud and unabashed when you see them grip the plaster. Mind racing at the thought of those hands all over your body.

"Bet you look so fucking good with my cock down your throat," Steve groans, tiny little grunts escaping him as he punches his hips forward in sharp thrusts, "you feel so fucking good, holy shit. Good fucking girl, taking all of me like this."

You know you look obscene — saliva running down your chin, lips raw and puffy, eyeliner and mascara smeared down your cheeks from the tears that spring from your eyes. Your throat feels wrecked, stuffed full on Steve, and you finally show yourself mercy, hand running under your dress to run over the seam of your cunt.

The slick noises of fluid soaked skin crescendo in the room, filthy and disgusting in the most delicious way, erotic and adding to the senses that get you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers slip deftly over your slick cunt, working at your clit until you're choking on a sob, body alight with how good you feel.

"You crying, baby?" Steve coos, rocking into your mouth again, tears pooling below your top lip, adding to the salty mixture in your mouth, "You're lucky the walls between us, if I saw you crying I'd only go rougher, I'd break you."

You wail, fingers slipping from your pussy as his words rattle in your ears. Your tongue flicks over every inch of him you can get between the harsh thrusts, swallowing him down and mapping out every bit.

"Can hear you fucking yourself in there," Steve comments, and you can't find it in you to even feel embarrassed, not when he's rammed so far down your throat that you're struggling to breathe and gagging, "so fucking hot, wanna watch. Wanna pull on your hair and fuck that tight little throat harder."

Your knees ache, your jaw feels like it's splitting, whole body alight with the pleasure-pain that courses through you. It's like nothing you've ever felt before.

Steve chuckles, an animalistic noise tearing from him when you suck a little harder, chasing his cock as he tries to pull out. Your core burns hotter with every passing swipe of your fingers on yourself, chasing your high so desperately that you can't find it in you to be mortified.

"You close, honey? You've gone a little stupid on my cock," he comments, tutting at you, "if this is how dumb you get on blowing me, I can't wait to see how dumb you get when I'm buried deep in your pussy."

You whimper, tears spilling down your cheeks as you shudder through your orgasm, your cries muffled with Steve's cock. Your fingers work on your clit until your hips shake, slick drips of your creamy release sliding down your inner thighs.

"Perfect little slut," Steve grunts, hips beginning to stutter in their rhythm, a constant stream of steady praises spewing from his lips, "can't believe you came sucking my cock, I'm a fucking stranger. I'm gonna cum, y'r making me cum, holy fuck."

One, two uneven thrusts later, and Steve's hips shove forward for a final time, cock kicking up on your tongue as he releases inside of your slackened mouth. Your brain and gag reflex barely cooperate, some of his load sputtering out from between your lips as you struggle to swallow it all.

Steve's loud when he comes, moaning so unashamedly that it echoes in the room, and you're so sure that your friend in the next one over will hear him, maybe even the one over from that, too. It's mortifying how attractive you find it.

There's an awkward silence once all is said and done, his spent cock slipping from your lips once you're sure he's finished. The sounds of heaving breaths and clothes shuffling are almost deafening in your ears, as you sober up from what could be considered a mind melting experience.

Steve zips his jeans up on the other side, awkwardly chuckling, "Uh, thank you for the best blowjob I've ever had in my entire life, stranger."

You bark out a hoarse laugh in return, shocked by the casualness of it, though it's so endearing — and inflating for the ego, "Thanks, Steve. It was a pleasure getting to suck your dick."

Steve laughs for real that time, breathless and almost incredulous, "I don't know if this is, uh, kink etiquette or whatever but, I'm in this ridiculous black satin shirt. Hairs high enough that you can see it through the crowd, or so my friend says. Come find me out there?"

You're shocked into silence for a moment, brain running on overdrive, trying to comprehend the invitation to actually go see him, after all of that. You feel ridiculous, how could you be prudish after sucking off a stranger?

"Or not?" Steve asks, with a deflated little huff.

"No!" You awkwardly shout, cringing internally, "Uh, I absolutely would love to, Steve. I'm in a black latex dress, I have a red pentagram necklace on, it's hard to miss."

"I'll see you out there then, honey."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #my fanfic #mine #x reader

[the-writer-arrived]

Dan Heng NSFW Alphabet

Synopsis: let's take a peek on how your lover is in bed, shall we?

Character: dan heng.

Warnings: afab!reader; reader is part of the astral express but isn't the trailblazer; spoilers about dan heng's past and his companion mission.

A/N: in celebration for dan heng imbibitor lunae release (finally!!), i give you all this! may our dragon boyfie come home to all who wants him <3

(p.s. that mf made me lose the 50/50 💀 his light cone better come home 😭.)

(edit: IT WORKED HIS LIGHT CONE CAME ON THE 31 😭😭😭😭)

This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dan Heng's nickname in Belobog's fight club may be "Cold Dragon Young", but he's anything but cold to you especially after sex.

After your sexual lives began, Dan Heng made sure to always have a box of tissues, a towel and a bottle of water at hand's reach.

He prefers to do the deed in your room instead of his since, you know, it's the Express databank...

Therefore, those things are usually inside a drawer of your nightstand for easier access to the both of you.

Also cuddling is a must for him.

On days Dan Heng is feeling particularly clingy, he will wrap his arms AND tail around you, not minding the feeling of your sweaty and sticky bodies.

But don't worry, he will take you to the bathroom to clean you and him in the shower/bath, before returning to bed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If someone had asked him that before he got together with you, he wouldn't know what to answer.

Now, however, he'd answer his hands.

Curiously enough, you've always been fascinated by Dan Heng's hands.

You loved holding it, playing with his fingers, saying they were so soft, even softer than your own!

You also loved dragging him to the sleepovers in March's room, which you would paint your boyfriend's nails while March would do the Trailblazer's.

Now, about his favorite body part of yours, it's an easy answer: your neck.

It goes hand in hand with his kink (or rather, instinct) of marking you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums an embarrassing (to him) amount.

Although the Vidyadhara can't have offsprings, they still are a dragon species and, considering Dan Heng has a much closer conection to the water dragon he controls, his instincts are stronger than others of his kin.

Yes, this is just a roundabout way to say he has a breeding kink

It's usually thick and gooey, but when he's in heat, it becomes more watery.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When you joined the Astral Express, you were sure Dan Heng disliked you.

Although he was never outright rude to you during the (very few) interactions you two had in the beggining, he would never be in the same room as you.

Himeko assured you that the young man was just shy, but even she was at a loss at that unusual behavior of his.

Dan Heng was avoiding you, yes, but it wasn't because he hated your guts or anything.

It was because your scent was driving him crazy.

The second he landed his eyes on you, your scent invaded his system and every single fiber of his being was being pulled to you.

But he couldn't, he shouldn't. There was too much danger in his life.

But by the Aeons... He had to do something, or else he might lose his mind.

So, when everyone in the train was asleep, Dan Heng would let his thoughts be consumed by you and guide his hand to his shaft...

He would rather go through molting rebirth again than admit he did such debauchery to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

My guy has been in the Shackling Prison ever since he was born and after being banished from the Luofu, he had to keep looking over his shoulder for a psycho who's out for his blood.

It's suffice to say that Dan Heng doesn't have any experience in relationships or sex.

Please have patience with him, he will fumble but he really wants to make you feel good :(

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I believe Dan Heng would prefer positions which he can see your face, be it directly or through a mirror's reflection.

What he must have, however, is access to your neck, his favorite body part of yours as mentioned on B.

So, if you do positions like cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, you can expect to have a restless (dragon) lover under you, squirming for wanting to have you closer in order to mark your pretty skin.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's definitely not one to be funny in bed... intentionally, that is.

Have you seen him throwing peace signs when the Silvermane Guards were pursuing the trio in Jarilo-VI?

Or him doing that when March took a photo of him next to the High Elder statue on that short animation?

Or even the things he says with the most poker face ever?

Anyway, what I mean to say is that Dan Heng is funny without trying to and that (unfortunately to him) sometimes happen in bed.

He will huff while you're giggling with yourself, before bringing you back to the right mood with a searing kiss.

What were you laughing at again? I don't know, maybe you should focus on those hypnotizing eyes darkened with lust staring down at you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As said on E, Dan Heng doesn't have much experience in relationships, therefore never really worried that much about pubic hair.

After joining the Express and having a safe place to be, he would groom himself and trim a bit just so it wasn't too much or too long.

Now that he's with you, he likes to keep his bush small and very well groomed, so it won't bother your nose when you suck him off.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

His draconic instincts aside, Dan Heng really, really, REALLY enjoys keeping you in his arms.

99% of the time you guys "make love" instead of fucking.

This is the first time in his life (as Dan Heng) that he feels utterly safe and conected with someone in so many different aspects.

When he says "I love you" during the deed, it comes from the deepest, most precious part of his heart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Honestly, he used to masturbate more before you two got together.

Again, he will never tell you that or, at least, not any time soon...

Now? It's rare for him to do it.

If he's in the mood, usually you are as well.

Sure, mutual masturbation is hot and all, but he'd much rather be inside your warm and inviting pussy.

The only time he'll jack off is when you are away from each other in trailblazing missions.

You know Dan Heng will try to hold off touching himself until he can go back to the Express, but he becomes soooo snappy and with a permanent frown on his face.

So, please, send him some photos of you or audios to break his resolve and make him relax a little until he returns to your side.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As mentioned in the very begginning of the list, I am 100% sure Dan Heng has a breeding kink, even if he can't procreate.

It's such a filthy sight, your hole fluttering after he pulls out, your mixed fluids leaking from it... A voice, primal, in the back of his mind telling him he should push it back inside or, even better, stuff you with his cum once again...

He can't get enough of it.

Also, you won't leave the bed without at least a dozen marks on your skin.

Bites, hickeys, marks of his fingers for gripping you too tightly... You'll see all of that and more on the morning after.

Your boyfriend is considerate enough to not leave them on places you can't hide with your clother or make up.

...Unless you made him jealous on purpose or has been teasing him throughout the day.

I guess scent kink is also a thing for him.

You almost make him delirious with lust when you're on your ovulating period.

Praise your guy to your heart's content, it works wonders when you want Dan Heng to let loose and fuck your brains.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

No matter how horny he is, Dan Heng will only touch you on the privacy of the bedroom.

Preferably yours since he doesn't really have a bed on the Data Bank Archieves.

Which is fine, considering he basically moved to your room.

The reason for that is the comfort and sense of security the private space gives him.

He doesn't have to be on alert for any kind of danger and can give you his undivided attention.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Call him corny, but it's when you show him you love him.

For most of his life, he has been followed by the shadow of Dan Feng and his deeds, both good and bad.

Even after Jing Yuan revoked his banishment from the Luofu, there are still many people, especially the Vidyadhara, who look at him with contempt.

Not to mention Blade hunting him through the universe to make him pay the price for his Dan Feng's sins.

So, when you cup his cheeks, stare at his eyes so softly and tell him you love him for who he is, not the shadow of his precious reincarnation...

His heart can't barely handle all the feelings that well up inside.

Dan Heng tries his best to show you how he feels by the breathtaking kisses and relentless pace of his hips snapping with yours, with chants of your name like a devotee does to their beloved deity.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you enjoy feeling a bit of pain in bed, I'm sorry to tell you, but Dan Heng refuses to do anything that may cause even the tiniest bit of pain to you...

Okay, it's not like he'll NEVER do it if you do enjoy it, but it'll take a lot of coaxing and reassurance.

His worst nightmare is to hurt you in any shape or form.

One thing that he will not do, no matter what, is share you.

So no threesome with Blade, sorry.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I see Dan Heng as the giver type, to be honest.

Not that he dislikes you sucking him off, far from it!

He just adores being nestled between your thighs, your drooling cunt on his mouth...

And if you convince him to eat you out on his Imbibitor Lunae form? It's a sure way to send you to heaven.

Grab his horns like your lifeline, it will make him moan into your folds and grind his cock onto the bed.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

On normal days, the pace is slow but deep.

No matter how much you ask, beg, demand for your lover to go faster, he won't and it drives you crazy (in a good way).

He's addicted to the way your core tightens around his member like a vice when you're so close to the edge.

Only then he will concede to your wishes, so you can cum together.

When he's in heat? Good luck walking tomorrow soldier 🫡

Each of his thrusts are so deep, so fast, so hard, but never deep enough, never fast enough, never hard enough to satisfy his desires.

I hope your bed is strong enough to survive the whole night.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't like it.

To Dan Heng, being physically intimate with you requires a process, a moment when the two of you tune out the world and just focus on each other.

Like I said on P, he likes to take his time with you, to really feel every single inch of you.

Sure, there are times when both of you are too horny to wait until you are in the comfort of your bedroom and there's too little time to spare.

Even so, quickies don't satisfy him completely.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Another thing that he doesn't enjoy it.

Dan Heng is a bit self conscious about the thought of other people hearing or, Aeons forbid, see you two doing it.

A spoiler for the V part, but this guy isn't exactly quiet during the fun 🤫

That's one of the reasons why doing it on a public or semi-public place is a no for him.

Using a vibrator though, especially on him, now that's something that may happen.

Again, it'll take some coaxing from you, but there's a bigger chance of him agreeing in the end.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Even when Dan Heng is in his human form, his stamina is above average.

When he's in heat? Again, good luck walking tomorrow.

If it was up to his draconic desires, he would go all night without a break.

Fortunately for you, he can hold on to his senses enough to remember that you would not survive if that happened.

You'd die happy, but he doesn't want to lose you.

On the morning after, you two are "gently" reminded by Himeko and Welt that there are other passengers on the Express and everyone would very much like to sleep in peace ✨

Poor March had to sleep over with the Trailblazer in their room, which was the furthest from yours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Our boy knows what a dildo and a vibrator are on theory, never tried them himself.

You'll have to be the one to introduce them in the relationship, if you want to.

I see Dan Heng as a switch, leaning to the sub side tbh.

With that in mind, I believe the toys are used more frequently on him than on you.

His favorite is those vibrators that can be controlled by a phone app, it's discreet and you can keep your partner on their toes.

His collection isn't big, maybe he owns two or three at max.

His first sex toy was one of those male masturbators, a gift from you.

Poor guy was so confused on what the hell that thing was (totally understandable, some of those look like a blender???).

Needless to say that his face turned red in no time after your explanation.

It doesn't come close to your hands and mouth, but it does a good job when you two can't be together for whatever reason.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If there is someone who loves to tease to hell and back, it's you.

You can't help it! Dan Heng looks sooooo adorable, trying his hardest to keep a straight face while a pink tint warms his cheeks.

Your teasing can go two ways: you may have him whimpering and begging for more under you OR he will retaliate and have you whimpering and begging for forgiveness under him.

In any case, you see it as a win in your book ✨

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

*Me, speaking into the mic.* Dan Heng is a whimperer and whinier.

*The crowd boos and I leave with my head down.*

She's right! *There is a yell coming from the back.*

*It's you, with Dan Heng dying from embarrasment next to you.*

Jokes aside, I do believe our Cold Dragon Young isn't loud per se, but a whimperer for sure.

He's embarrassed by that, so he does all he can to keep his sounds at bay.

When he's in Hot Dragon Young mode, he'll do a 180°.

Embarrassed? Shy? Quiet? Not Vidyadhara Dan Heng.

He growls, he moans, he curses, he straight up purrs the more he pounds and bullies your pussy with his cock(s).

Yes, he has two, it's a consensus between writers and artists.

Please gift everyone in the Astral Express ear buds, they will need them.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Despite having a breeding kink, of course Dan Heng is aware his species isn't fertile.

He knows there are no chances of him creating a new life by the conventional means of procreation.

And yet... Watching you interact with Hook and the other children of Belobog... Watching you hold Bailu in your arms...

He can't help but daydream of the 'what ifs' and 'would be'.

If he could, he wonders what would your child be like?

Would they look more like you? Or him?

Would they have similar personality to you or him? Perhaps a mix of both?

Would they inherit his draconic features?

...Would they have a long life span like him?

...Would they still be by his side, after your passing..?

...Will he even be able to handle to live a life without you once again...?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I am terrible at describing things, let alone dicks of fictional characters, so bear with me OTL

Okay, so, it's been established that Dan Heng has two cocks. Good? Good.

I like to think that they also change when he turns into his original appearance.

Human Dan Heng: only one dick, but still has a bit more length than average, on the thiner spectrum, slightly curved upward

Imbibitor Lunae Dan Heng: two dicks, a growth in girth to leave you full but not stuffed, the veins are more proeminent.

How does one describe a pretty dick? Idk, but it's the first thing that comes to mind when you see it.

He's a pretty guy after all.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I know I've talking about his heat period like a broken record, but that's because watching aloof characters becoming crazy with lust makes me absolutely feral 🥴

But honestly? Among all the Honkai Star Rail men, I see Dan Heng with the lowest sex drive.

Not that he isn't interested in you physically, far from it! He adores your body and when you show it off to tease him, it's always very effective.

It's just that I see he has bigger emotional needs than sexual needs in the daily life.

Lover boy can go two, three days without having sex with you just fine.

It depends more on how is your sex drive.

If you ask him, he'll gladly go down on you whenever you wish.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dan Heng will only fall asleep after you do.

It comes from a desire to protect you from anything and everything.

He won't allow himself to completely rest until you are fully comfortable and in deep sleep.

Only then, he will kiss you on the forehead and bring you into his arms, giving you a sense of security you won't be able to find anywhere else in the whole universe.

#blue.writes: honkai star rail #blue.writes: dan heng #blue.writes: smut #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng smut #honkai star rail smut #minors dni #not suitable for minors

[sturgill-simpson]

my mark on your skin

summary: Tattoos sure get you really horny.

content warnings: Reader x Gojo Satoru, AMAB!Reader (reader has a cock/balls, no other gender markers noted), established relationship, possessiveness, anal sex, Satoru Gets A Womb Tattoo and Reader Loses It

You’re not sure what possesses you - either of you - but you were drunk, you think, and Satoru’s hornier than normal. You’re also both a little bit raw from…well. Memories, and so you can’t be arsed to be normal about this.

You get Satoru’s name tattooed on your arm, curving each kanji delicately through a depiction of a dragon, but where Satoru gets your name tattooed-well.

Well.

It’s dark, still, when you wake up after the night of absolute debauchery and shenanigans. You’re exceedingly hungover, and Satoru’s still half asleep when he plods into the bathroom after you, the shirt he stole from you half hanging off his thinner form. The shirt rises up as he reaches down to scratch his stomach and there it is, dark ink on silk white skin, the crisp kanji of your name spelled out, a claim and a mark all at once. 

A marking he’ll never be able to take off, in a place that - on most women - would be considered a womb tattoo. Your name. Yours.

Ah, you think deliriously, everything surges inside you - outside you, hah, you’re rock hard in an instant - and you grab him by the hips, dragging him back against you.

Sleepy blue eyes shoot wide open.

“Nng-wait!”

You don’t bother with words. Thanking every god that exists that Satoru doesn’t often wear underwear, you push the shirt up and slowly, slowly press inside him, warm and hot and still wet from last night.

Satoru whimpers, buckling, moaning helplessly into the marble surrounding the bathroom sink as you press inside him, balls deep. And you take him there, rutting into him like a too-ravenous dog, one thick, callused hand pressed firmly on the tattoo that marks him as yours.

#dom!reader #sub gojo #sub gojo satoru #x reader #smut #male!reader #gender neutral!reader #my writing #yknow if satoru got a womb tattoo with my name #i wouldn't let him out of bed for a week straight tbh

[daisynik7]

Fine Lines

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Genre: modern day au, one-shot

Rating: Explicit

cw: vaginal sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering, nipple play, multiple orgasms, “princess”, “slut”, somewhat self-conscious reader

Word Count: ~7.0k

Summary: A girl’s night out ends with you crossing some lines with your best friend’s brother. 

Notes: Got inspired by this soundgasm I listened to that drove me wild (this is the link, listener discretion advised, put your damn headphones on before you click)! Everyone is in their mid-to-late twenties, for reference. Title inspired by the song “Fine Lines” by Jorja Smith. 

Personal Notes: This is shameless smut, not much plot (although I tried). Also, I’m very much obsessed with the pet name “princess” right now, so don’t mind me as I stick it in every fucking fic I write, can’t promise I’ll ever grow tired of it. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

ao3 | my masterlist

It’s Friday night, at last the start of the weekend. Work has been particularly stressful the past few days. New projects, useless meetings, upcoming deadlines; it’s never-ending. In need to let loose after being tightly wound this whole week, you suggest to your best friends, Mikasa and Sasha, for a girl’s night out. Dinner, drinks, dancing, and trashy food to end the night of debauchery. Just what you need to relax. 

At Mikasa’s apartment, the three of you gather inside her bedroom, blasting a party hits playlist as you all get ready. Sasha, eating a sandwich for a pre-game snack, sits beside on you on the carpet, the two of you applying your make-up in front of the closet mirror while Mikasa tries on outfits. “Does this look okay?” She presents herself to them in her black, strappy two-piece. 

Sasha whistles. “Hot mama!”

You smile, agreeing. “Stunning!”

She blushes, always appreciative of the support. “Thanks.” 

Suddenly, there’s aggressive knocking on the door. She opens it to find her brother and roommate, Eren, glaring at her. “Can you lower it? It’s so fucking loud.”

She rolls her eyes, tapping her phone to lower the volume. “Don’t you wear headphones?”

“I was wearing headphones and I still couldn’t hear Jean or Connie because of your fucking music.”

“Alright, alright, I lowered it, okay?”

“Thank you.” He glances over to you and Sasha, watching them argue. You quickly look away to avoid his gaze, staring back at the mirror. 

“Where are you three going tonight?” he asks, directing his question to his sister.

“Dinner in Stohess, then dancing at Club Paradis.”

“What’s the occasion?”

From the reflection of the mirror, you see Mikasa point her thumb at you. “Just a girl’s night. She’s been stressed at work and wants to let off some steam.” 

Eren looks at you, your back turned to them as you pretend to not be listening. “Well, have fun.”

“What are you up to today?” Mikasa asks.

“Just gaming with Jean and Connie. Armin’s out of town at a work conference, so it’ll be an uneventful weekend.” He pauses before directing his question at you. “So, I’m assuming you’ll get super drunk tonight? Will I need to take care of you again?”

You whip around to face him, cheeks hot with embarrassment, recalling the incident he’s referring to. “Hey, to be fair, your rooms are right next to each other, it was an honest mistake! And I already made up for it, remember?” 

A few weeks ago, following another girl’s night, you stumbled into Eren’s room by mistake and made yourself comfortable in bed next to him. And almost threw up on his sheets. Luckily, he caught wind of what was about to happen, and he led you into the bathroom, where he held your hair as you began to vomit the results of your excessive drinking. As thanks, you cooked a delicious dinner for both him and Mikasa the following day, complete with his favorite dessert: brownies. Specifically, you’re signature brownies.

Chuckling, he responds, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just teasing you. Good thing you didn’t actually throw up on my sheets. Then you’d be in real big trouble.” The smirk he gives you sends a flutter bellow your belly. 

Mikasa glares at him. “Gross. Stop flirting and get out of here, we’re trying to get ready.”

He obeys, yelling out, “Have fun tonight!” before retreating into his room.

As you finish the rest of your ensemble, your mind is focused on Eren. You’ve known him for nearly ten years now, ever since you and Mikasa became roommates freshman year of college. They weren’t biologically related, Mikasa being adopted into his family from a young age, but they were closer than most blood-related siblings were. The two of them, along with their childhood friend, Armin, were inseparable. And as Mikasa’s best friend outside of this close-knit circle, it was only natural that you became well acquainted with the other two, especially her brother. 

It's no secret that he’s always been attractive. You’ve listened to too many rants from Mikasa about all the different girls he was messing around with in college. She criticized him often for dating fine women without ever wanting to commit to them. These tirades began to fade after graduation. It’s been a while since you heard any news about his love life, but you’re always too shy to pry.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about him in a romantic sense. He’s always been kind to you, harboring a soft spot for his sister’s best friend. It’s never been more than that, though. You’re certain that’s the only way he sees you. And it’s not as if you’ve ever made any attempts to flirt with him. There’s an unspeakable boundary that you don’t dare cross, fearing the repercussions. Rejection, potential harm to the relationship you’ve built through the years. It isn’t worth it to jeopardize what you currently have. 

Still, there’s no harm in fantasizing about it, as long as no one else knows. Right?

Make-up done, you slip into your little black dress, resulting in another whistle from Sasha. Mikasa twirls you with a smile. “Gorgeous.”

“So what’s the plan tonight, ladies? Shall we play a little game?” Sasha suggests with a devious grin. “Last time, it was drinks. Maybe this time, we’ll do phone numbers?”

“I’m down for that,” Mikasa agrees, adjusting the volume of the music even lower. 

“You in?” Sasha looks to you for confirmation.

You shrug. “Sure.”

“What’s wrong?” 

It takes a while for you to respond, ashamed to admit it out loud. “I never win these things. I rarely ever get hit on.”

“That’s because you’re too shy! You have to put yourself out there!”

You fall onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t think that’s it. Maybe I’m too ugly.”

“Stop! We don’t tolerate that kind of talk in this household!” Mikasa yells, sitting next to you. 

“I will slap you if you say that again,” Sasha threatens. 

“Not only are you two gorgeous, but you are also great at flirting. I’m just going to be sipping my drink alone while all the men flock towards you. But that’s fine! I’m fine. I’m happy to be a wing woman!”

Maybe it’s the stress of the work week putting you in this bizarre self-pitying state. You’re not usually like this. Or maybe you’ve been hiding it all along. It’s not as if you don’t have any experience when it comes to this. You’ve been on your fair share of dates, none of which have ever panned out to anything serious. Ever since you started working at your current job, you’ve been having a bit of a dry spell, too preoccupied with your career to focus on romance. Tonight, the burden of the past few years is finally taking its toll. 

With your innermost thoughts already laid bare in front of your friends, you confess, “I just wish I could hook up with a guy tonight. Just sex. No strings attached.”

“Well, if you announce it like that, I guarantee you’ll find a guy who’ll want to fuck you,” Sasha laughs. 

Mikasa adds, “Guys are easy. They go dumb if you bat your eyelashes or laugh at their jokes. It’s as simple as that.”

“Is it really? I don’t think I have that power...”

“It’s because you’re too shy! Don’t worry, we’ll find you a man tonight. We’ll make it happen.”

Sasha is the last to get changed, donned in a black dress similar to yours. Before requesting a ride, the three of you move to the kitchen, where you down a few shots of tequila. The burn of the liquor awakens your senses, prepping you for a fun night with your friends and hopefully, a guy to satisfy your sexual needs. 

Sasha checks her phone, groaning. “The surcharge is insane right now. It’s going to be this much just to get to Stohess!” She shows her screen, displaying the ridiculous cost.  

Hiccupping, Mikasa says, “Ah! I got an idea.” 

Stumbling towards Eren’s door, she knocks a few times until he answers, headphones around his neck, an annoyed expression on his face. “What?”

“Can you please give us a ride to dinner? It’s super expensive right now. And it’s only ten minutes away!” She puts her hands together in a prayer pose, pleading with him. 

Glaring, he replies, “I’m in the middle of a game right now.”

Sasha joins in on the begging, standing beside Mikasa. “Eren, please! We’ll make it up to you!”

He crosses his arms, expression softening, slightly amused now. “How?”

The two girls stare at each other, thinking harder than usual because of the alcohol taking its effect. “She’ll cook you dinner again!” Mikasa points to you. “She’ll cook you whatever you want!

You step towards them, yelling, “Don’t just volunteer me like that!” 

He looks at you with the same smirk as earlier. Even in your almost tipsy state, you feel the familiar sensation in your abdomen.

“I’ll only do it if she bakes me my favorite brownies.” 

“She will! She’ll do it!” 

He removes his headphones, throwing on a hoodie before turning off the lights to his bedroom. “Alright, you drunks. Let’s go then.” 

~~~

The three women follow him to the door, thanking him profusely as they strap on their heels. Inside the car, Mikasa and Sasha claim the backseat, while she rides as passenger. While the two struggle to put on their seatbelts, she stares forward, avoiding Eren’s gaze as he pulls out of the garage. Quiet enough for only her to hear, he murmurs, “I guess you’re my passenger princess for tonight.”

“Huh?”

He smiles at her, but doesn’t repeat himself, turning his attention on the road. 

They’ve known each other for a while now, ever since freshman year of college. She was Mikasa’s roommate, and eventually, best friend, aside from Eren and Armin. She’s always had that charming smile on her face, matching her magnetic personality. He never really noticed how alluring her energy was until recently. He’s not sure what changed, but something did. He pays attention to her now. 

Today, he overhears them talking on the other side of the wall. Eren didn’t have his headphones in while him, Connie, and Jean took a break from their game.

I just wish I could hook up with a guy tonight. 

Just sex. 

No strings attached.

These words, coming from her mouth in particular, pique his interest. 

It’s not that he wasn’t attracted to her before. He just never really thought of her outside of being Mikasa’s sweet, innocent friend. All he knows is that they’ve been acquainted long enough to know that they get along well. Sometimes really well, sharing similar humor, music tastes, favorite foods. Little details that used to be insignificant, but now, seeing her in a new light, means something more.

He'd be fooling himself if he says he’s never thought about it. Of course he has. The common trope of fucking your sister’s best friend, it’s a story that’s been written countless times in television, literature, even porn. Is it possible that this fictional cliché can become a reality? The idea floats around in his head as he drives them to the restaurant. Sasha and Mikasa are obnoxiously giggling to themselves, looking at their phones. His passenger joins in on their conversation. “What are you two giggling about back there?”

“We’re trying to find potential candidates for you.”

Eren is definitely listening now. He tries not to smile to himself as she exclaims, “What?!”

“We’re checking out all the guys in the area. Oooohhh, what about him?” Sasha turns her screen towards the front, showing a picture of a shirtless man. Literally just a naked torso, no face at all. “I can message him to meet us at the club after dinner!”

“Don’t!”

“Why not? I thought you were trying to fuck tonight!”

“Sasha!” She buries her face in her hands as Mikasa cracks up. 

“Oh hey! Maybe Eren knows someone he can set you up with! Got any single friends who are down to fuck?” 

Sasha and Mikasa cackle together as she turns to him, expression horrified. “Ignore everything they’re saying, oh my god.”

He teases, “What if I do know someone?”

Mikasa leans forward, now curious. “Who? You better not set her up with Reiner. You know he would eat her up alive.” 

“It’s not Reiner.”

“Then who?”

He pulls up to restaurant, still not answering the question. Sasha and Mikasa hastily exit the car, thanking Eren for the ride. She takes a while longer to undue her seatbelt. He takes this opportunity to say, “Good luck tonight.”

Groaning, she mutters, “I can’t believe Sasha. I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s so embarrassing.” 

“Hey, nothing embarrassing about it. We all have needs.”

“Well, if I fail tonight, maybe you can introduce me to that friend of yours one day,” she jokes. 

“Sure. I can even introduce you to him tonight.” 

She laughs, not fully grasping what he’s trying to say. “Yeah. Right. Anyways, thanks for the ride.”

He watches her exit the car, the hem of her sexy black dress riding up along her thigh as she steps out. Hoping that she does strike out tonight, for his sake. 

~~~

Dinner goes by smoothly, the meal delicious as always, drinks flowing freely to continue setting the mood for the night. The three of you linger at the restaurant for a little while, sipping on more cocktails as you digest your food, preparing yourselves for a long night of dancing.

By the time it’s 10:30 PM, you make your way a few blocks down to Club Paradis, a crowd of people already lined up at the door. Luckily for you, Sasha’s friend, Nic, is one of the chef’s at this establishment when it’s a restaurant during the day. The bouncer, who recognizes her, let’s you all in immediately, without issue. 

Inside, the DJ has already started their set, EDM music blaring through the speakers. The first thing you do is head to the bar. Mikasa, right off the bat, works her magic and has a guy buy the first round. In turn, she also gets his number, starting the little game. 

Sasha manages to charm her way into sharing a table with a trio of men, getting their digits in exchange. Two of them chat with Sasha as the other tries to flirt with Mikasa, leaving you on the side, sipping on your cocktail, as predicted. 

When the dancefloor starts filling up and the DJ begins to play the popular club hits, the three of you abandon the table to start dancing. Throughout the night, more men approach your friends, sometimes dancing beside them or attempting to dance with them. Mikasa and Sasha end up rejecting their advances, deserting the phone number game. The three of you dance until your feet are tired, throats sore from singing along, and heads pleasantly dizzy from the buzz of the alcohol. By the time it’s past 1:30 AM, you’ve forgotten about your desire to hook up, too immersed in having a blast with your friends.

Being the least drunk, you request a ride on your app, Mikasa and Sasha both leaning against you, still giggly, but exhausted. The car arrives, the three of you cramming into the back as the driver takes you to the apartment. Sasha whines to you about fast food, reminding her that there is a frozen pizza waiting to be baked at home.

It’s about 2:00 AM now as the three of you shuffle into Mikasa’s apartment. You immediately preheat the oven before following your besties into the bedroom to start the tedious process of turning down for the night. 

When you hear the distinct beep from the kitchen, you scurry over to pop the pizza in the oven, setting the timer for ten minutes. You continue to remove the rest of your makeup and by the time you’re done washing your face, comfy in your silky, floral-print pajamas, the pizza is done. Resting it on top of the stove, you walk back into Mikasa’s room to find your two friends passed out on the bed, snoring peacefully. Chuckling to yourself, you turn the lights off and close the door quietly, leaving them to their slumber. 

In the kitchen, with the pizza cool enough to touch, you cut yourself a large slice and start eating, leaning against the counter, scrolling through social media with your free hand. The sound of a door creaking open startles you, until you see Eren step out of his bedroom, dressed in a white t-shirt and dark grey sweats. Man-bun in all its glory.

“You’re still up?” you question, mouth full of the bite of pizza you just took. 

“Yeah, I just finished playing with Jean and Connie. The smell of pizza lured me out,” he responds, smiling. 

“Help yourself. Your sister and Sasha fell asleep, so I won’t be able to finish this on my own.”

He cuts himself a large slice, sliding it onto a paper plate that you put out on the counter prior. The two of you eat in silence, you pretending to be distracted by your phone when really, you’re waiting for him to initiate conversation. When you’re finished with the pizza, you open the fridge, craving something else to eat. 

“Are you stealing my snacks?” He’s behind you, closer than he’s ever been before, body pressed ever-so-slightly against you as you inspect the refrigerator. 

You lean forward, sticking your ass out just a little bit. For good measure. “I would if you had anything good. All that’s here are Mikasa’s protein bars and a dozen eggs.”

He chuckles, placing his hands on your waist to push you aside. “You just don’t know where to look.” Reaching his arm into one of the compartments, he conjures a pack of vanilla pudding, handing it to you. In the cupboard above the fridge, he grabs a bag of potato chips.

“Ah, so you have your own secret stash.”

“For drunk munchies. Or even when I’m not drunk.”

“Thanks. This is just what I wanted.” You unfold the bag, reaching in for a handful, smiling.

He leans on the counter next to you, munching on his pizza. “So, how was tonight?” 

“Very fun. I needed that.” You rip the seal off the pudding cup. Some of it gets on your thumb, to which you instinctually stick in your mouth to suck it off. You realize Eren watches you carefully as you do this. Nervous under his gaze, you release it from your mouth with a slight pop. “It’s been a really stressful week at work, so it was fun to have a girl’s night, not worrying about anything.” When’s the last time you and Eren actually had a conversation one-on-one like this? Has this ever happened? 

He grabs a water bottle, twisting the cap off to drink a couple of gulps. When he’s done, he offers it to you. You’ve shared plenty of drinks with Mikasa, but with Eren? This is unexpected. Not wanting to make it weird, you take it, swallowing your fill until you’re properly hydrated, much thirstier than you thought. 

He watches you replace the cap, setting the almost empty bottle back down on the counter. It’s odd being observed by him. You don’t remember him ever paying attention to you in this way. Why tonight of all nights? Edgy from the work week, horny and desperate for an easy release. Why is he acting this way now while you’re vulnerable?

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Hm?”

He lowers his voice, leaning in closer to you. “Did you find a guy to fuck?”

This catches you more off guard, the bluntness of it. Maybe it’s the remaining alcohol still flowing through your body, giving you liquid courage to behave out of character. Maybe it’s your desire to feel a warm body beneath you tonight. Maybe it’s the words he uttered to you earlier in the car replaying in your head that you’re just now picking up on.

What if I do know someone? 

I can even introduce you to him tonight. 

We all have needs. 

Whatever it is, it’s driving you to match whatever crass energy he’s giving off. “If I did, would I be here right now? I’d be at his place, fucking his brains out.”

At this, he lets out an amused hum, smiling. That goddamn smile. Charming, attractive. Dangerous. “Being here with me isn’t so bad, right?” His arm is completely pressed against yours now. All this surface on the countertop free to occupy, yet he crowds you in his space.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you can do for me,” you answer, setting the barely eaten pudding cup on the table. You swallow hard, standing up straighter to muster as much confidence as you can. 

He moves closer, all six feet of him towering over you. “What do you want from me?”

“You told me you know someone in case I struck out tonight. Who is he?”

“I think you know.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you sure?” It’s like asking for permission to cross the line that you’ve avoided this whole time. 

“Yes, absolutely sure,” he confirms, bowing his head down towards you. 

You gulp loudly, heart thumping. “Then make the first move.”

~~~

Without hesitation, he closes the gap and kisses her. He starts off soft and slow, acquainting himself to these lips he’s known for almost ten whole years, but never appreciated until now. How foolish he’s been for not getting a taste sooner.

She grasps at his chest, white tee bunched in her fists as she pulls him closer to deepen the kiss. He never knew how forward she can be. She’s always been shy, reserved. This is a new side of her he’s never seen before, and it excites him. 

Her lips part, inviting his tongue in to swirl around hers. He slides his hands to her waist, thumbs slipping beneath the silky band of her pajama shorts, feeling for the fabric of her panties. 

“Fuck, this is crazy,” he whispers between kisses. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Dragging his bottom lip down with her teeth, she suggests, “Should we go to your room?” 

He shakes his head. “Walls are too thin. Let’s go to the couch.”

They stumble into the living room, feet shuffling against the hardwood floor, clothes tugged on here and there, little giggles exchanged between them as they fondle each other on the way to the couch. He sits down first, spreading his legs wide to display the erection outlined in the fabric of his sweats, cocky smirk plastered on his face. Palms patting the inside of his thighs, he beckons, “Come here.”

She takes her place on his lap, straddling him, skimpy boxer shorts bunched at her thighs. They keep kissing, his hands sliding under her shirt towards her chest. To his delight, she’s not wearing a bra. With a gentle pinch on both her nipples, he squeezes at her tits, still in shock that he’s feeling her like this. He starts brushing her hardening nipples with the pads of his thumbs, enjoying the way she pulls away from his lips to throw her head back in pleasure. 

“You like having your nipples played with, don’t you?”

Biting her lower lip, she nods, gripping his shoulders like reins to hold herself steady for the ride. He brings her face close to his again, lips grazing her ear as he whispers, “Do you ever think about me? Like this?” 

He’s genuinely curious. Now that he thinks about it, there has been an instance or two when she’s appeared in his mind during a late-night quick release. Particularly after seeing her wrapped in only a towel after coming out of the shower whenever she sleeps over. He never thought anything of it, just an innate reaction to seeing a woman almost completely bare. It’s instinct for him to wonder what marvel is hidden underneath if that towel conveniently slipped off. What her naked body, slick and dewy from that steamy shower, would look like in front of him. Or beneath him. Even riding him. 

It's only natural to think of his sister’s best friend, of his friend, this way. Right?

Maybe not. Lost in the jumble that is his psyche, he’s definitely thought about it, and not just once, not twice. Many times, he realizes. Somewhere in the middle of all his other depraved fantasies, she’s been there without him even noticing. Until now. 

This may be a mistake. It might ruin whatever relationship they’ve developed throughout the years. It doesn’t matter though, because all of those worries fade away as soon as she breathes out the answer to his question. “Yeah, I do. I think about you a lot.”

It’s the go-ahead, the green light. They’ve both stepped over the line now; at this point, it doesn’t even exist. She wants this just as much as he does. Nothing else matters except for the two of them, sitting on this couch, fulfilling each other’s shameless needs.

She hoists her top off, breasts completely exposed for him now, his hands still squeezed firmly around them. He takes one and latches his lips to it, sucking hard until it’s taut in his mouth, listening to her whine in ecstasy. With a loud pop, he releases her, brushing his lips along her plump nipple. “You like having your nipples sucked, huh?”

“Mm-hm. Do that other one.”

He laughs softly. “So demanding. So greedy. I never knew you were like this.” 

“I guess the secret’s out,” she says, smiling before kissing him hard on the lips. 

He breaks away to play with her other nipple, causing her to moan even louder. With his free hand, he covers her mouth gently, her wet lips puffing warm breath into his palm. Unable to resist temptation, he teases his fingers into her mouth, pleasantly surprised when she sticks them in farther, tongue licking around his digits. 

Another loud pop as he let’s go of her tit, cursing. He pumps his fingers in and out of her mouth, coating her spit all over him. “You’re nasty. You’re really fucking nasty. Tell me what you want me to do with these wet fingers.”

Still licking at his hand, she muffles, “Touch me.”

Through the opening of her shorts, he slips past her panties, sliding his fingers along her pussy, slick and creamy with her arousal. His cock is unbelievably hard, but he doesn’t want to rush this. He wants to take his time with her, familiarize himself with her body, memorize each beautiful crevice he gets to explore tonight. There’s no telling what will happen to them after this. He’s taking this opportunity and making the most out of it in case this never happens again. 

Finding her clit, he rubs his middle finger against it, pressing it firm enough to have her trembling above him. “Fuck,” she breathes out. “Eren.”

The rasp of his name in that sultry, desperate tone makes his cock twitch. He uses his free hand to start palming his erection through his sweats, thankful that he had the foresight to change into these before he stepped out of his room, knowing it was her out in the kitchen, alone.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just now that he had this revelation. Who is he really kidding? He’s wanted this for a while now. He buried it in the back of his mind because it was too taboo, too forbidden. That just made him yearn for it more. And tonight, it all comes to head. Finally.

“You’re getting so wet for me with just my fingers.” He slides his hand underneath his pants to fist his shaft. “Bet I could make it juicier if I eat you out.”

“Sounds promising,” she smirks, grinding against him. Leaning past his ear, she whispers, “But I want to try something else first.”

His abdomen tightens, anticipating what she has in mind. “What?”

She dismounts him to kneel on the carpet, head positioned between his thighs, staring lustfully at him. “You know what.”

Shifting forward in his seat, he asks, “You want to suck my dick? This fat cock in front of you? Is that what you want?”

“I want to see what all those girls in college were making such a big fuss about.”

He lets out a short laugh, lifting his torso to slide his sweats and boxers off simultaneously, his rigid cock springing free from its confines. “How do you know about my slut era? Did Mikasa tell you?”

“Maybe,” she replies, wrapping her fingers around him, stroking. 

He moans quietly, not wanting to reveal how fucking desperate he is for her. “Were you jealous whenever she’d tell you about all the girls I fucked?”

“Maybe,” she repeats, giving him a soft kiss on the tip, small string of precum connected to her lips. He’s stares at her, capturing a mental picture of this for future reference. 

“Do you wish I fucked you back then?” His curiosity is getting the best of him.

Shaking her head, she answers, “No. Because now, I get to have you all to myself.” Mouth formed in an oval shape, she sinks down onto his cock, the tip completely engulfed in her warm saliva.  

He uses every ounce of willpower not to bust right there. Who is this woman? Where has she been this whole time? And why hasn’t this happened sooner? 

“Fuck,” he moans, shutting his eyes. “That feels good. Fuck.”

She blows him, her fist working the base as her head bobs along the shaft, movements in sync with each other to stimulate every fiber of his being. It’s been a while since a blowjob has felt this good. Maybe it’s because it’s her. Sweet, innocent, wholesome her. Or so he thought. The fact that his perception of her has been blown out the window, replaced with the side he’s always secretly pined for. This is what does it for him. 

He keeps his eyes shut for the most part, the sight of her with hollowed cheeks, milking the fucking life out of him, too lewd to watch. When he does, she looks up at him with a twinkling gaze, enjoying it. 

“Fuck,” he moans, a little louder this time. 

She slides off him, hand still stroking his cock, slick with spit and precum, index finger to her puffy lips, shushing him, “Be a good boy and keep your voice down.”

Holy fuck. Any morsel of control he has left is quickly withering away. “I’m going to come,” he tells her, rocking his hips in sync with her strokes. In an instant, her lips are latched around him again. He comes in her mouth, some of it spilling down onto his pelvis. She removes her hand to sink lower to the base, swallowing the rest. 

There’s a brief moment of silence as he basks in the glory of his orgasm, head lolled against the cushions, mind blank except for the euphoria spreading to the rest of his body. It’s only when he hears her giggle that he is brought to his senses. He lifts his head up to face her, observing the naughty smile formed at her lips. 

Grinning, he murmurs, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

She stands up to sit next to him on the couch. “We? Excuse me, but I did all the work.”

Turning towards her, he leans forward to kiss her cheek. “I guess it’s time for me to do my part, then.” 

Lying on the couch with Eren on top, he hastily pulls off her pajama bottoms along with her soaked panties, now completely naked. He takes a few seconds to stare at her, admiring how much sweeter it is to see her like this with his own eyes instead of in his imagination. 

“Quit looking at me like that,” she waves at him. “You’re making me self-conscious.”

“Self-conscious? About what? This fucking gorgeous body you’ve been hiding from me?” he teases, tracing his fingers along her sides, down to the hips.  

“Shut up,” she whispers, turning away. She’s so fucking cute, he can’t stand it.

“No way. I’m not going to stop talking about this beautiful face,” he says, leaning down to scatter kisses all over her cheeks. “Or your soft skin,” more smooches trailing her stomach. “And I definitely won’t shut up about this perfect pussy I’m about to devour.” With that, he spreads her thighs wide to lap his tongue on her clit, hearing her gasp quietly above him, hand covering her mouth. 

Delighted by her reaction, he hums against her skin, lips puckered at her bud, toying with her sleek folds. He flattens his tongue and slides it side to side while he slips his middle finger in her. 

“Oh fuck!” she cries into her palm. He puts his ring finger in along with his middle, thrusting into her while he eats her out sloppily, drool smearing all over her already sticky arousal. She tastes even better than he imagined, her creamy arousal luscious on his tongue, the lewd smell of sex surrounding his nostrils, priming him to go completely wild on her. It hasn’t been long since his first orgasm, but he feels the blood pulsing into his cock, getting harder and harder the more he indulges in her.

He doesn’t want to fuck her just yet. No, he wants her to gush all over his fucking face, and he knows exactly what to do to put her over the edge.

Pulling away briefly, lips and chin shiny with her arousal, he growls, “Sit on my face.”

“What?”

“Sit on my face,” he repeats.

“Are you sure?” She sits up, uncertainty evident in her expression. 

Growing impatient, he guides her on top of him, shimmying across the couch to position himself just right. “Don’t make me say it again,” he warns, hands on her hips, as she mounts his face, her knees surrounding his head. She hovers above him, too timid to do it properly. 

He grips her tighter, shoving her pussy into his face, tongue lapping up her leaking juices, swallowing noisily so she knows just how good he’s drinking her up. His hand smooths over her ass cheek, tapping it lightly. He wants so badly to spank her, punish her for hiding this from him all these years. Discipline her for depriving him for so long. 

“Ride it,” he demands, loosening his grip, letting her be in control. Without question this time, she does, rocking her hips back and forth against his face, pussy dragging on every inch of it. Dousing him, quenching him, smothering him. She’s whimpering now, lost in the heat of passion, fondling her own tits to feel even more as she grinds on his mouth. He’s tempted to jerk off, but it’ll be too much; it’s already enough for him to come untouched. 

In a small voice, she mutters, “Coming.” He sucks on her clit hard until her voice goes a pitch higher, then sticks his tongue into her slit, licking her insides while his nose jams into her sensitive bud. 

When she’s down from her high, she’s gently gets off him, a guilty look on her face as she reaches for the box of tissues on the coffee table next to the couch, handing it to him. He sits up, face even shinier with her cum, and refuses. Smiling, he starts collecting her slick off with his fingers, sucking them clean into his mouth.

She shoves him playfully. “Don’t!” she hisses.

He continues to grin, pulling her into a sloppy kiss. “You taste fucking amazing,” he whispers, nuzzling his nose against hers. “So yummy.”

“Don’t be weird about it,” she says, smiling. She toys with the hem of his shirt that he’s still wearing. “Do you want to stop? Or…?”

“Oh, we’re definitely not done yet,” he states, hoisting his shirt off.

Her eyes widen at the reveal of his sculpted chest and abdomen, then down at his stiff cock sprung against it. He laughs, catching her ogling him. “You’re going to help me deal with this, right?”

“Yeah. How do you want me to do it?”

“You tell me, princess.”

She grins at this, biting her lip. “I like that. Princess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Pulling her towards him, he whispers, “Show me what else you like.” 

~~~

You get into a similar position as earlier, you on top of Eren, straddling his lap as he sits against the couch. This time, however, you’re both completely naked and messier than before, all the evidence from both of your orgasms sticky between your bodies. Lifting up, you align his cock with your wet slit, guiding it in slowly. It’s no surprise that he’s robust. It’s even bigger than you imagined, especially as you sink deeper onto it, his girth stretching you more than his fingers could. 

When he’s all the way in, you take a sharp breath, adjusting to his size. He doesn’t rush you; instead, he waits patiently, holding your hips tenderly with his forehead pressed to yours, watching you. You can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that beautiful head of his. 

A few moments of this and you ease up on him. You lift off slightly, then sink back down, repeating this until it’s a fluid motion, whimpering when you feel him reach your G-spot. After a few more deep thrusts, you let out a particularly loud moan, resulting in both your hand and his covering your mouth. You giggle quietly with each other. 

“You’re so fucking loud,” he laughs, gazing at you.

“That’s because you’re fucking me so good,” you respond, riding him faster. You take his hand and guide it to your arousal, begging him to touch you while you fuck yourself on his cock. 

“Fuck, you’re bad. You’re so fucking bad,” he growls, sticking out his thumb to massage your sensitive bud. “What happened to my sweet, innocent girl, huh? Deep down, you’re just a naughty fucking slut, aren’t you? Begging to be fucked tonight.”

His obscene words twist around your core, getting you closer and closer to another climax. “Say more dirty things to me, Eren,” you demand, bouncing on his lap, his thumb strumming your clit ruthlessly. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so nasty,” he whispers, panting. “Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, oh my god.” He fucks you, hands tight on your ass, feet rooted into the carpet, couch creaking noisily in the quiet of the living room. But it doesn’t matter because you’re almost there. Just a little bit more.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” he spits out, breath hot on your ear. “Acting like a good girl when you’re really just a nasty fucking slut. You know exactly what you do to me.”

“What do I do to you? Tell me.” Sweat beads off your forehead, his eyes animalistic, peering into yours as he rails you.

“You drive me fucking crazy. The way you flaunt yourself in front of me. Teasing me with that innocent smile. You’re just a naughty girl who needs to get fucked.”

“Ah, fuck me, Eren. Fuck me, fuck me! Make me come!” you cry, riding him fast.

“Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming,” he groans, holding you tighter in his arms. His warm cum shoots inside you as you orgasm on his twitching cock. 

He cradles you gently for a minute before asking, “Did you come? Please tell me you did.”

Nodding weakly, face nestled into his neck, you answer, “I did.” 

“Good,” he says, kissing you on your shoulder. “Good.” His arms wrap you in a snug embrace, massaging your back tenderly. 

“Do you think they heard us?” you ask.

“I’m pretty sure Mikasa would have come out by now to kick both our asses, so I think we’re good,” he chuckles. 

Pulling away to face him, you mutter, “Thank you. For tonight. I really needed this.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, grinning. “Always happy to help. You know that you can come to me for anything, right?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends.” It almost seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. He ends it there, still smiling at you. 

You lean forward to give him one more kiss on the lips. “We should probably clean up and go to bed before we really do get caught.”

“Right. I’ll see you in the morning?” He phrases it in the form of a question, like he’s unsure. 

“Yes, I’ll see you in the morning,” you reassure him, extracting your sticky self from his body. 

Without another word, you walk away into the bathroom to clean yourself up and brush your teeth, mind racing with the realization of what just occurred. When you’re done, you exit and find him standing in the kitchen, dressed back in his sweats, waiting for you to use the bathroom. Before you sneak into Mikasa’s room to finally call it a night, you tiptoe towards him and kiss his cheek. “Goodnight.”

He blushes, eyes sparkling even in the dim light. “Goodnight, princess.”

~~~

Eren retreats into his room, ready for a good night’s sleep. He checks his phone for the time; almost 3:30 AM. In bed, he rolls to his side to face the wall he shares with his sister’s room, wondering if his special friend is still awake like he is.

Friends. He didn’t think it through before saying it. It was a spur of the moment comment, one made from nerves and anxiety surrounding the aftermath of their actions. Tonight, they crossed a line that most friends do not. What will happen to them now?

He grabs another pillow and hugs it, wishing it was her. Realizing that he doesn’t want to be friends with her at all, but something else. Something more. 

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #attack on titan smut #aot smut #eren yeager

[gothbitez]

well, two can play that game ; ellie williams

pairing: college!ellie willams x afab!reader

chapter: one-shot (4.6k words)

warnings: 18+ content, minors do not interact!! dom!ellie x femme!reader, poc friendly, sexual content, angst, past relationship, jealousy, abby x reader (briefly for plot tension), reader and ellie are toxic petty, semi-public sex, hatesex if u squint but they love each other so idk angry sex is more accurate.

summary: you and ellie hadn't spoken since you broke up a few months ago and suddenly she shows up to this party with another girl on her arm.

inspired by heartbeat by childish gambino

author's note: soo linger got so much more love than I expected I love u guys wish I could respond to comments or follow y'all back but this isn't my main acc rip, just know that I'm lurking and appreciate all the reblogs and love <3

:::

Disclaimer: I do not support the genocide of the indigenous Palestinian people, and neither should you, please don’t buy the new Remastered or continue giving any more money to Druckmann. Educate yourself, learn the history, it is vital. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free 🇵🇸

**

The music was booming, noise reverberated through the walls of the home belonging to whichever current popular kid was hosting this weeks Friday party.

You had been in a bit of a rut recently, not really taking time out of your schedule to have fun and live like you should be living, Dina was aware of that. So today, she had forced convinced you to come to some sports-heads party.

"Come on, get dressed" She had said, with a smug smile as you lifted yourself off the bed and into your bathroom to get ready. You had worn a silky, long black skirt. It reached the ends of your shins with a long slit that exposed your leg all the way up to your thigh. On top, you wore a simple tee, with a long strip of thick eyeliner along your skin.

And here you were. Sighing to yourself as you watched the typical acts of debauchery unfold amongst your peers. A bottle of alcohol was soon in your line of sight, Dina holding it up to you after just having taken a swig herself. "Here, looks like you need it."

You grabbed the clear bottle and drank, grimacing at the harsh taste that was developing in your mouth. You, Dina and Jesse had settled on sitting in-front of the couch on the floor, you tended to be a floor sitter; being crosslegged was quite comfortable.

In that moment, the front door of the owner's house swung open, and you felt your heart drop. In walks Ellie Williams, your ex-girlfriend, with another girl clutching on to her arm. You watched as the duo did their rounds, greeting the people they knew and joking briefly. Ellie looked around the living room, looking for a place to base, her green eyes landed on where you, Dina and Jesse were sat before making her way over, causing you to sigh.

That was possibly the last thing you had wanted, to be in an environment with your ex and her new conquest. You and Ellie had broken up a few months ago, not through lack of love, and definitely not due to bad sex. Quite the opposite. Ellie had a habit of self-sabotage, you'd get close to her and then one day she'd freeze and want to cut off all connection. She was a ghost, you knew this. That's why you broke up in the first place. It had been a painful wound which had still not healed over.

Technically, you had no say. There was nothing you could say about her sitting with you guys, Dina was Ellie's friend as much as she was yours, and despite the painful breakup, you wouldn't force her to pick sides. It would've been nice to know in advance that Ellie was going to come, though. At least then you could've prepared for the pang in your chest as the girl interlocked her fingers onto Ellie's as they sat. Dina threw you a sympathetic look, as if to say, 'I didn't know she was gonna be here..'

You took another swig of the alcohol as conversations between Ellie and the group started, knowing you couldn't avoid her any longer. You hadn't spoken to each other since she left, there were so many things left unsaid. Focusing on the music, you nodded your head along to the beat of the song that was playing over the speakers, your eyes glancing at the crowd dancing in the middle of the living room, observing.

You suddenly got the sense that you were being watched, your eyes flickered away from the crowd and into the green eyes that were staring you down from across the group. Ellie looked at you with no expression, her hand resting on the unknown girl's thigh. She caught your eyes look down towards her hand and glanced back up to you. What was she trying to achieve here? Make you feel worse?

You broke the eye contact, preferring to get up off the floor and making your way into the kitchen to head out into the host's backyard. You heard Dina ask where you were going but you hadn't registered her voice in time to reply.

Your body was met with cold temperatures as soon as you passed through the backdoor, you mentally groaned as your jacket was not warm enough to keep you warm. Glancing around, you took note of where groups of people were sat talking to each other, you just needed a moment to yourself. You gravitated towards the quietest spot in the backyard, liking how there wasn't much activity and sat yourself down, perched with your chest resting on your legs.

Grabbing a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket, you singled one out from the deck and brought it up your lips. With the cigarette secure against your lips, you reached down, searching for a lighter, your head facing the floor, before you heard the familiar flick of flint come from above you.

Looking up, you were met with the last person you had wanted to see in your time out. "How long are you going to pretend I don't exist?" she spoke, the first thing either of you had said to each other in months. Her arm was still holding the lit lighter, looking at you, waiting for you to light the cigarette.

Knowing how stubborn she is, you knew you had no choice but to bring your face closer to the lighter, meeting the flame and sparking the tobacco. "You're definitely not the one who should be asking that question." You muttered, inhaling the smoke.

"Look, what do you want me to say?" Ellie sighed, placing herself next to you before lighting her own cigarette. She was wearing her favourite grey hoodie, it was so worn you could see small tears in the sleeves. "Honestly, nothing right now, why don't you go back to the girl you brought with you? I'm sure she's missing your presence."

"She doesn't smoke, and I wanted one." "Well, you didn't have to sit here," you knew you were being harsh, but what else were you meant to do with the built-up hurt? If you took away the anger, what would you have left? Ellie sighed beside you, "We haven't spoken in months.." "And whose fault is that, Ellie?" You were looking at her now, eyes boring into hers.

"I know I shouldn't have left," she took a drag, exhaling as she spoke, "I wa-," Cutting her off, you spoke. "You were what? You didn't just leave, Ellie, you completely blindsided me. You think something's going well with someone and then they disappear. No explanation, no message, nothing!"

Hearing your words, her heart fell. She knew she had hurt you that day, but she felt scared. You were right, something was going well, so well that Ellie was scared she'd get hurt first. So she decided to end it before giving you the chance. "I didn't mean to hurt you," "Yeah? Too bad," you scoffed, "Cos you did." Finishing your cigarette, you stumped it out on the floor, forcing yourself up to your feet to go back to the living room. A hand stopped you, wrapping itself around your forearm preventing you from walking further. With a sigh, you turned to face her.

"You don't have to run away from me," Ellie said, voice low. Shivers travelled down your spine, as her eyes glanced to your lips, "I'm not contagious." "I don't want anything to do with you." You whispered, fighting every urge you had to just kiss her and make up. If you stayed here a minute longer, you knew you would cave to her. Despite how badly she had hurt you, you couldn't forget the way she made you feel. Knowing you still loved her, still felt the burning desire to kiss her.

Your thoughts focused on to the girl that had come with her tonight, your brows furrowed as anger washed over you. Ripping your arm out from her grip, you turned away and walked back inside to the party.

—

A week had passed, you were making your way to Dina's kitchen as you helped her set up the decorations, food and drink ready for her birthday party.

You had gotten completely dolled up, at least to your standards, wearing a band tee underneath a long, dark satin dress with your signature eyeliner. After all, it was Dina's birthday, you had to look nice. Besides, you were in hopes of getting some action tonight, knowing Dina had invited some girls from her class and you hadn't had any action since Ellie. It had been a... long time.

Ellie was helping at Dina's, too. Since your last conversation, things hadn't gotten better. Your hurt had somehow, shifted into snark, bickering with Ellie anytime you'd be in the same vicinity, which happened often.

Snark, petty comments and arguing. That's all Dina had heard between you and Ellie, at one point she thought you were about to kill each other. Dina had asked you about some guy that had approached you earlier on in the day. He had walked up to you with the utmost confidence that his flirting would be successful. You almost felt bad for him, the way his smile dropped when you told him you were a lesbian. Dina thought the story was hilarious and had asked you about it, upon hearing this, against her better judgement Ellie had made a comment about it which resulted in a heated argument between the two of you and Dina suddenly regretting her decision to bring it up. It had gotten so riled up that when Ellie stormed out of the room, she slammed the door so hard that it left visible cracks on the wall and the plant pot on the window beside it smashed into pieces.

"Okay, so... the bottles can go on this table and the food goes to that one with the bowls." Dina instructed, motioning you to put down the items you were carrying. Ellie had stayed in the living room moving the furniture around the room so that people could have more space to move, so Dina took her chance to talk to you.

"So, um.. you and Ellie haven't been doing so hot," she spoke, looking at you with a worried expression. "Well observed, Dina." "Hey, don't take your frustrations out on me, I'm an innocent bystander watching as world war three breaks out." She joked, lightly. "Sorry, it's just, I don't know what's changed but every time I look at her I just get so angry."

"I didn't say it wasn't justified, just worried about you guys, I'm friends with both of you and it's not nice seeing you two like this," Dina's hand went to rest on her hip as she spoke, emphasised her point, she sighed before continuing, "At least try and get laid tonight, fresh blood might make you less angry." She joked.

"Dina!" You groaned, before turning away from her and returning to the living room where people were beginning to show up.

A few hours go by and the party is in full swing, it wasn't crowded like last week's but more of a gathering, which you could handle. You had a few drinks, were nowhere near as drunk as some people, but you were at a nice level. You had spent an amount of the night away from your friends, after being introduced by Dina to this girl, Abby, one of the gays Dina had invited in hopes she could wingman you a date.

It was nice. Abby was incredibly attractive, she had long blonde hair and her arms were unlike anyone you had ever met. So muscular and big, you had a thing for slightly more masculine women, that's what got you in this mess with Ellie in the first place. Though, Abby and Ellie were complete opposites and if memory served correctly, you were pretty sure you remembered Ellie saying there was a girl in her class that she hated of the same name. Said girl had been involved in an altercation with Ellie, you honestly didn't remember why. You wondered if they were the same person.

Abby had completely distracted you from your worries with Ellie, revelling in the straight-forward way she would flirt with you and touch your thigh. It was nice to feel wanted.

Someone wasn't impressed, though. Ellie had been a sour mood all day because Cat had refused to come to the party with her, claiming that Ellie still had feelings for you and that's why she always cared enough to pick fights with you. Ellie denied this causing Cat to immediately break up with her on the spot. You had been on her mind today more than she cared to admit, and seeing you flirt with someone she absolutely despised, watching as Abby placed her hand on your exposed thigh, simply put, it pissed her off.

Dina watched Ellie carefully, not uttering a word when she saw her rolling her eyes at you both. "Can you believe that shit?" Ellie said, pointing at you from across the room. "Of all people, why is she entertaining that asshole?" "Ellie-," Dina was interrupted, "Laughing like her jokes are funny, she's the most boring person I've ever met," "Do-," "Who does she think she is?" "Ellie!" Dina shouted, "If you're that bothered, stop staring."

"I'm not staring.. they're just fucking gross." Ellie sighed, taking a swig of her beer. "You're staring. Go take a walk or something," Groaning, Ellie got up deciding to to the bathroom. Not that she needed it, she just couldn't bear the sight of you two any longer.

She stepped her way up the stairs, music and alcohol causing her to suddenly realise she was a bit more waved than she originally thought, either that or she got up too fast.

Stepping into the bathroom, she rested her hands on either side of the sink, looking at herself in the mirror. She could still feel the anger burn through her chest, igniting further as she remembered the ease with which Abby placed her hands on your thighs and the way you allowed it. Deep down she knew she had no right to be jealous, it was her fault after all. Yet, she cursed to herself as she thought back to the past weeks.

Cat had been right, of course. Ellie was in no way over her feelings for you, they never even left. She was just scared and jumped ship, and now this arguing and pettiness had only been an excuse so that you could have a way of talking to each other. Ellie's thought process was interrupted by someone knocking on the door and she knew her little breather was over and she'd have to face the world again.

Sighing, Ellie lifted herself off the sink and opened the bathroom door, not expecting you to have been the person who was knocking. "Oh, sorry I didn't know you were in there," you stated, your long eyeliner standing out in the dim light of corridor. Ellie had always loved when you wore that.

"It's alright, actually, I kinda wanted to talk to you," You quirked an eyebrow up at Ellie's words, "What did you wanna talk about?" "You should stay away from her, Abby, I mean. She's not a good person," Ellie quipped, the alcohol making her lips a lot looser than they would be if she was stone sober.

"Oh?" your features turned sour, "And who are you to tell me to stay away from her?" "I just wanted to let you know, no need to be a dick about it." "What makes you think I care about your opinions on my love life? You have no right." You were stepping up closer to her, frustration all over your features. "I heard you and Dina talking earlier, if you're gonna sleep with someone out of desperation at least pick someone better." Ellie squinted, her anger levels quickly rising as your voice raised, that seemed to piss you off even more. How dare she?

"If I want to fuck Abby, I will," you paused, noticing the way Ellie's chest was quickly rising as she took deep breaths, "It's none of your business." You voice lowered, Ellie's top lip sneering as she listened to you continue.

"She's nice, she's hot and have you seen her arms? I'm gonna sleep with her and there's nothing you can do to stop that." You whispered, knowing you were playing with fire but you couldn't stop yourself. Were you doing it on purpose? You weren't sure. You saw something in Ellie's eyes snap as soon as the words left your lips.

Within moments, your arm had been grabbed and you were being pulled into the bathroom. Ellie slammed the bathroom door shut and pushed you against it, the back of your head hitting the wood. "You sure about that?" Ellie muttered, she was seething, "I can think of many things I can do to stop that from happening." There was a snarl in her voice, a gruff raspiness that spurred you on.

"What was it specifically that pissed you off?" You teased, "The fact that it was her or the fact that it wasn't you?"

Ellie's hands trailed down to the back of your thighs, the only barrier being your long dress, with a firm grip she squeezed, causing a sigh to escape your lips. Truthfully, your comment about Abby's arms had touched a nerve, and Ellie found herself wanting to prove that she was just as strong as that meathead that was flirting with you. "Brave words for someone who threw a hissy fit the other day because she saw me with Cat."

You brought your hands from your sides to the back of Ellie's neck, silently wrapping your arm around her shoulders, Ellie's grip still tight on your thighs. Her face nearing your neck, "It's funny," Ellie whispered, before placing kisses on the space behind your ear, "You talk all this game about letting her fuck you, but darling, I'm the best that you've had, face it."

Her hands travelled up your legs, before landing at the curve of your behind, you swallowed a gasp, feeling her tease you through your dress, not wanting her to know the power she had over you in this moment. You were embarrassed at your own silence, not knowing how to reply to her words.

"Abby could do a better job," As soon as you said it, you regretted it. Ellie was certainly not impressed, hands clutching at your dress as she slowly lifted up the fabric, exposing your legs to her. "Oh yeah?" her gaze flickered down to your lips, "You want me to call her up here and show her how much you can't stand me?"

You stayed silent, her words spurring you on more that you expected, "Cos I can do that."

The distance between your lips had closed, Ellie pressing softly against yours as the music thumped in the background. Her hand travelled up from your thighs, caressing your sides as she reached the back of your head. You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, deciding to press into the kiss and wrap your arms around Ellie's neck. You could feel her smirking into the kiss as her fingers tightened around your hair, evoking a sigh out from your lips.

"You always did like when I did that," Ellie basked in the memories of your past relations, something she regretted losing. You two just always seemed to understand each other at that level, your bodies working together, she knew exactly what you liked and you knew exactly what she liked. It just worked.

It was no different this time around, just with a little added bitterness. All the tension from the arguing, the snide remarks and jealousy over the past few months seemed to have been leading to this exact moment. A cathartic release of pressure that had been building up.

"Shut up, Williams."

She chuckled as her lips went down your neck, kissing down to your collarbone as she sucked, intentionally leaving a lovely purple symbol marked on your skin. A symbol that you were hers, and she was going to let everyone else see it. Let Abby try and flirt with you now. Your chest heaved up and down, anticipating the gentle touch of her hand lifting your skirt, exposing your legs more than they already were. You felt a tightness at your core, even amidst your anger towards her, you still reacted in this way.

"You're so soft, for a girl so frigid." she muttered into your neck, kneading the skin of your thighs, her hand was so close to where you wanted her. "You're an asshole," You breathed out, back arching into the door, pressing you closer into it as Ellie moved her body closer to yours. "Oh yeah?" she paused, "Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" Her hand trailed closer to your centre, fingers skimming over your underwear, her raspy voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Because I'm such an asshole?" Her words dripped like honey, and suddenly you were melting. "Fuck," you sighed, your head falling down to her shoulders for support, suddenly feeling out of breath as her fingers teased around your most sensitive spot. "What was that, pretty girl?" her finger clutched on to the cotton fabric and slid underneath it, sliding the cloth to the side as she teased her finger through your dampened folds.

"Fuck, Ellie.." you gasped, your hips jutting towards her hand, a futile attempt to relieve some of the tension between your legs as Ellie retracted her finger from you. "No, no, pretty girl, that isn't how this works," You groaned, hearing distant chatter in the corridor outside of the bathroom as you were suddenly reminded of the outside world. "Ellie, please," you whispered, conscious that you would be heard by the partygoers. "Please, what?" She hummed, enjoying dragging this out, it was all a power play to her. You knew that, but you thrived off it just as much as Ellie did.

"Please," you rocked your hips into her hand again, "Need you to fuck me, Els." Upon hearing you, she restarted her movements, skimming your folds with her fingers once again, your mouth was agape, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling of her fingers against your clit. "That's a good girl," she smirked as she watched you, her scarred eyebrow flicking upwards, her eyes full of mirth. Your hand reached towards the back of her head, grabbing on to the elastic that held her bun in place as you pulled, tugging her head backwards slightly as some strands of her auburn hair fell out of place, looking almost as disheveled as you felt.

Spurred on by your actions, Ellie had decided to insert two of her fingers into you, emitting a wanton gasp to fall from your open lips. You clenched around the intrusion, feeling as her fingers sloppily dipped in and out of your soaked core, filthy sounds bouncing around the room. You bit back moans as Ellie buried her slender fingers deep into your folds, groaning at the indecent sounds of your slick against her digits.

"Fuck," you accidentally moaned, and a lot louder than either of you had expected, causing Ellie to let go of her grip of her fingers on the back of your head and into your open mouth. Taking the hint, you sucked on her fingers, drool slipping out from between your lips as she fucked your mouth. Suppressing your moans, your eyes rolled shut as Ellie slid another finger into your centre, relishing at the sight of you. Fingers stuffed in your mouth with one hand, fingers glistening with your slick as she rocked in and out of you with the other. Your flawless eyeliner now smudged and smeared all over your eyes, with a single stream cleared from a tear that had fallen from your eyes at the pleasure you were feeling. You were a sight she wanted to keep in her memory for the rest of her life.

"You're so fucking hot, babygirl, but you gotta stay quiet for me," The pads of her fingers met with the walls of your core, hitting you at a deeper angle than before. How the fuck were you meant to stay quiet like this? Was she doing this on purpose?

"Unless you want everyone here to know how good I'm fucking you," Her words were inching you closer, when you suddenly felt her fingers retract from your mouth and her body dipping down, kneeling in front of you. Her antsy hands fumbled over the fabric that was still tight against your hips, ripping them down so she could have complete access to you.

"You look so good when you're being fucked, pretty girl." You felt her head reach closer towards your centre, you breathed in a sigh as her hand grabbed hold of your leg and placed it over her shoulder. Her tongue licked gentle stripes up your folds, as she continued her movements with her hands, fucking into you as she licked your cunt like she was starved.

"You taste so good, baby," she breathed out, "Ellie- fuck.." you moaned, not trusting yourself to keep quiet as you covered your face and mouth with your arms. Ellie looked up at you, watching your face contort with the pleasure she was giving you, holding your arms against your face to keep yourself quiet. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, Ellie seemingly knowing exactly what to say to bring you closer and closer.

"Wanna tell me again how you're going to go fuck Abby?" she paused, fingers still in a consistent, deep motion inside you, "Because it seems like you've changed your mind, angel." You were never going to go and actually fuck this girl, you had just said that to rile her up, Ellie knew this, yet she couldn't hold her tongue from saying these things to you.

"Ellie, shit," you gasped, "I don't want anyone else," Your hand moved down to her disheveled hair, forcing her head closer to you as you rocked your hips into her face, pure desperation. "I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, don't forget that," And she was right. Within seconds of her reconnecting her tongue to your centre, fingers still pushing into you, you felt all control of your body leave you. Shaking and writhing on her face as she brought you closer to your peak, your juices sliding down Ellie's chin.

Moaning and gasping, you dragged her face up to yours, capturing her lips in an ardent kiss as you could taste yourself on her lips. You felt her fingers slowly slide out you and let out a final moan. Your hands started to trail down Ellie's sides, grasping at her clothes in an attempt to take them off her.

"No, no, baby. None of that, I'm going to leave you right here," she chuckled, feeling your desperation, "You know where I'll be, when you're tired of flirting with strangers, give me a call."

And she left you, in your fucked out haze, all delirious and dazed, in the bathroom of Dina's party.

——

#i wrote this whilst i was high so if there's any mistakes I apologise #tiny lil nugget for u guys i had to get it out of my system #i need her so bad (she's not real) #college ellie just does something to me #shes so gf #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut

[usedpidemo]

Knockin on heaven's door (Lee Chaeyeon)

> ​​5 minutes in heaven with chaeyeon (just something inspired by the knock mv and her being inside a wardrobe) - @idevian

——————

“God dammit.”

The worst thing about college wasn’t the outrageous student debt, nor the mountains of units and classes you needed to juggle. It was the parties. 

It was always the parties.

Not a couple of weeks passes by without some wild party hosted by some rich nepo kid. There isn’t really a reason that justifies the occasion except to celebrate for celebration's sake. An excuse to let loose and relax from the stresses of the semester; a reasonable justification—if not for the copious amount of drugs, alcohol, and sex that happens in them. Every scene plays out like a parody, an ironic twist of fate that realizes your worst assumptions and stereotypes of college after graduating high school. 

And the worst part is: no one escapes completely unscathed, not even you.

You make one thing clear: you don’t despise parties—you just didn’t want any piece of it. It stands to reason then that you usually take refuge in the many corners of the house, away from the madness and debauchery of it all. Exposure to their degeneracy proves to be near-unavoidable. You’re essentially the designated driver for your friends, who are none the wiser. Often, they’re the first ones in, last ones out. The moment they step foot inside, they basically forget your existence until dawn. They’re insufferable, but you’d otherwise remain a loner without them, for better and for worse.

In a sea of people, someone manages to spot you. It’s not the gaze of a burgeoning romance or friendship; their eyes evidently spell out drunkenness, and their zombie-like motions toward you are about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. A little push and pull. You suddenly find yourself being escorted to a huge circle that raises immediate red flags. Even the slightest whiff of the room laced with crack triggers your fight or flight impulses. Thankfully, it only takes the simplest and most cliche of excuses to create a path of escape.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

With their impaired judgment, you’ll soon be an afterthought to them—or at worse, a horde of makeshift zombies banging at the door. The bathroom would be too obvious. It was never the destination.

Sneaking around the crowd, you find a door conveniently tucked away from the madness and rush toward your freedom. On the other side lies complete darkness, and if not for a foot teetering on the edge of some hidden stairs, you’d be a dozen steps away from a concussion and several stitches. A hidden basement sealed away from the house, blocking most of the noise.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

As expected, the actual basement is nothing but clutters of dusty boxes and forgotten relics, with a few tiny windows hidden behind the piles. Little light peeks through the otherwise pitch black room, but a bit more exposure runs the risk of your retreat getting exposed. You’d more than happily sit here until you can weasel your way out in the morning, when everyone’s blacked out and completely fucked from party overdose, or when the rich kid’s angry parents find you sleeping on the floor. 

You’ve taken overnight shelter in far worse, unforgiving places. 

Suddenly, you feel a breath of warm air tickle through your ear and skin. “Guess I’m not the only one stuck tonight.”

It’s a ghoulish whisper that impulsively causes you to drop your phone while opening its flashlight. What little the light reveals is a hint of pale flesh and blonde strands covertly moving like a predator stalking its prey. You feel something on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. Clawlike nails thread through your hair, slowly entrapping you beyond escape. Your eyes tilt to the side, only to find the groove of lush dark lips forming a pretty smirk.

All it takes is another whisper. “Boo.”

“Shit!” You flail your arms panickedly, swinging them around like a child with no fighting experience. You hit nothing but air. If not for the darkness concealing you, it would be a humiliating sight, the kind that gets posted and clowned upon on social media. 

The figure grabs you by the wrists, stares so sternly it warrants attention. Its tone is just as sharp, too. “Don’t get us caught, goddammit.”

You pause, take a moment to gather yourself, then another to scan the shadowy stature, looking at you now with wary and concern. Peering through the darkness, its eyes glint with a distinct sparkle. It speaks again with a more tempered voice. “You okay now?”

A silence briefly falls. You stare back to familiarize and scan the figure. A moment of clarity comes upon you. “Wait—aren’t you—”

You recognize her face plastered on the accomplishment board, primarily under athletics and sports. It simply couldn’t be anyone else but Lee Chaeyeon, a polarizing figure within the student body. You’ve heard whispers from varying accounts. For some, she’s practically the greatest athlete to ever grace the institution, a generational talent in every department she excels in. To her teachers, she barely shows up to classes because of her athletic commitments, and a peek through the records shows she’s barely holding on in her academic obligations. 

At times, she’s felt like a myth, mainly because you’d only hear her from others. You never saw her once in a school uniform. Hell, you only knew she was around because other people claimed to have seen her, but they could have been spreading misinformation.

“What? Chaeryeong?” She raises an eyebrow, puckers her lips, partially confused and mildly annoyed, while lowering your arms before finally letting them go. She knows what you said. “That’s my little sis. She’s a lot cuter than I am. You need to get your eyes checked.”

“No, no.” Blissfully unaware, you’re quick to emphasize your point. “You’re Chaeyeon, head of the dance club and athletics division.”

“No? I’m Chaeryeong, head of the music department,” she says, sarcastic, but now with a playful smile. “No shit, I’m Chaeyeon.”

“I—I never expected to meet you here of all places,” you say, awkwardly smiling and tapping your fingers together nervously.

“I didn’t expect anyone would find this spot.” Chaeyeon turns around, brushing her long blonde locks in an alluring way that leaves you awestruck. Admittedly, it’s a little bit attractive how unabashedly sleazy she looks. Even in her clean pictures, you can tell she hates the idea of looking clean. While everyone else attends these parties at their best, only to come out a complete mess, she clearly recognizes the pointlessness in such vanity. “Great timing, too. I was gonna make a run for it.”

“So, why are you here again?” 

“Boredom.” Her reply is almost immediate, flippantly delivered, that it’s convincing. She has better things to do than hang around at random parties. “I just came for the free food.” She chuckles remembering the thought, while her eyes wander around the room, searching for something, anything.

“Just like me, huh,” you respond with blind confidence, as if it’ll give you both a common ground to share, when in reality, she doesn’t care. If anything, she only amuses you because she allowed you to entertain her, and you’re doing about as good of a job as anyone when it comes to catching her attention—a.k.a failing spectacularly. 

Chaeyeon turns around and faces you again with a curious, intimidating look. “And what do you know about that?”

Gulp. “About what?”

She tilts her head and doesn't utter another word, as if expecting you to know what she means. You clearly don’t. On her lips is a dour pout, disappointed by your impulsive tongue. None of it makes any sense, and trying to figure her out seems like a fool’s errand. 

“Thought so,” is the only thing she ends up saying, and an air of awkward silence falls on you both as she roams around the basement, presumably searching for a passage out. “You wanna be useful?” she suddenly snaps at you, her stare peering through a valley of boxes.

“What do you want me to do?”

“You wanna get out of here or what?” she spits, turning to you, gaze grimacing and tone scathing. Joining her, you both take note of a narrow hatch hidden behind even more dusty packages.

—————

Well, you may have just played the most awkward game of seven minutes in heaven in your life. 

The ride home is even more unsettling.

Chaeyeon remains dead silent, comfortably slumped back against the passenger seat of your car, keeping you at arm’s length. Occasionally glancing to your side, you’re driving, focused on the road ahead. The muted sound of radio blaring through the speakers is the only thing that keeps awkward silence from permeating throughout the vehicle. 

You can’t get her to show any form of emotion other than apathy.

Wanna have something to eat? Nothing. 

Where’s your place? Also nothing.

Where would you like me to drop you off? Still nothing.

Got any friends to meet up with? Again, nothing.

Most people would have given up by now. It’s not a good look, the kind that encourages ostracizing. Patient as you are, though, you still hope she opens up, but whenever your eyes meet, she gives you the coldest shoulder imaginable. She wants nothing to do with you. The way she stares, the tiredness peeking through her brown irises, the slow, detached gaze that examines you before lightly looking away—the very idea of interacting with people poisons her, ruins her, breaks her.

You pull off at a gas station a few blocks away from your apartment. Shutting down the engine, you gently say, “I’m gonna buy a snack. You want anything?”

She slowly turns back in your direction, very disconnected from you she can’t be bothered to look you in the eye. Her lips twist, as if ready to speak her mind, but only air ultimately comes out. As you expected by now.

“Fine,” you follow, deflecting her cold demeanor back at her. “Just wait here, then.”

After stepping out of your car, right as you’re about to enter the shop, you hear a sharp thud sound. Looking back, you find Chaeyeon, also outside, rubbing her arms from the cold air bothering her, trembling nervously. 

You call out to her, loud enough to draw anyone’s attention.

“Borrow my jacket?”

She doesn’t pay you any heed.

—————

“I seriously don’t understand you,” you murmur, as if it’ll bring her out of her shell or change anything, if your previous attempts at reaching out to her in a friendly manner are any proof. It’s late at night; you’re both casually staring at your car—the only noteworthy thing in this gas station—and you couldn’t be any more different. You’ve almost emptied your little cup of instant noodles, while she smokes through her dwindling cigarette, blowing smoke in your direction, still purposefully uncaring. The vapor doesn’t make you crack, but her coldness does. “Why did you ask me to drive for you? What’s the point? I don’t know what you want.”

It’s probably not the best time to show even the slightest frustration. Then again, she’s been deliberately dispassionate the entire time. Anyone else would have given up at this point, but there’s an allure to her, you admit, that keeps you interested, and not just because she’s a known name within the student body. Popularity was never the goal, but like everyone else, you simply wanted to know who Lee Chaeyeon is. She’s one of the biggest mysteries within the school; an all-star athlete with a peculiar aura surrounding her. From what you’ve seen so far, it’s not all that remarkable. She's sassy and apathetic, dry, sarcastic humor is her primary weapon, and she dresses like an escort. Perhaps this is all just a mix up, that this isn’t really the Chaeyeon, one of the best athletes to ever grace the university.

If not for the resemblance with her younger sister, the sweet girl from the music club, they couldn’t have been any more different. Are they really from the same family?

“Much better.” She returns her cigar to her mouth, huffs another round, then releases a new wave, thankfully not in your direction this time. Facing you, she looks you right in the eye. It’s different. There’s no apathy behind them, but instead, genuine interest. “I just wanted a free ride outta there.”

“That’s it?” is your reply, confused. Maybe you’re thinking these words through a bit too much, trying to find deeper complexity from a simple answer. You’ve met more complicated characters before, and to a certain degree, you can relate to her.

“Yeah.” Chaeyeon drags another whiff, but intentionally smokes away. “People just suck.”

In a strange, twisted way, she reads through your mind, says something that, quite frankly, leaves you even more in disarray. “Don’t think hard about it.”

Wide-eyed, you try averting your gaze in a poor attempt to feign ignorance. “Think about what?”

“You know,” she says, songful, gives you a rather taunting stare, eyebrows raised, as if expecting you to understand what she’s on about—deep down you know what that is—while flicking the ashes of her cig down on the table. Admittedly, it’s somewhat cute. Smirking, she adds, “Do I have to make it obvious to you, bird brain?”

“Fuck off.”

“There you go.” Chaeyeon leans back, chuckles, takes delight in making you look like the bad guy, that wicked, mocking grin on her lips a few inches wider than before. Only now do you perceive the true predicament; both of you secretly playing mind games, examining each other, trying to get on the other’s nerves until they eventually break. “I guess I win.”

“Win? We’re not playing games.”

“I got you to drop the nice guy act. I won.” 

Another huff, another smoke.

“That doesn’t mean much.”

“That’s what every loser says. Remember what I said? People suck.”

“We just met a few hours ago, and you’re telling me I suck?” Your volume grows slightly louder.  “After giving you a free ride out of that party?” 

“And who got you out of there first? Hmm?” Chaeyeon’s driving you mad, but now for a completely different reason. “Let me make it clear: I knew about the secret passage even if you hadn’t stumbled your way inside that basement. You were just lucky to find me at the right time.”

“Forget about the basement!” You find yourself slowly unraveling, slowly coming undone, your screws on the brink of loosening. She licks her lips, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

It’s sudden, it’s loud, it’s sharp. The words reverberate around the shop resoundingly that in any other setting, it’s what incites a public incident, gets both of you expelled and shamed in school. Maybe just you, knowing there’s a high likelihood of preferential bias the faculty may have for one of their most accomplished pupils. Regardless, you find yourself covering your mouth, as if you’ve just spoken some unspeakable destruction into existence. Even she ends up speechless.

The next moment is even more destructive: Chaeyeon’s lips suddenly cover yours.

—————

“Fuck, that’s good,” mutters Chaeyeon, between a shower of seemingly endless kisses on your lips, shoving you against the wall of the bathroom beside the convenience store. The doors are locked, with not a single soul’s around to interrupt you. Either way, she proves to be too much—too much to fight, with both words and actions, that you quickly give in, much sooner than she expected.

It’s not that you never considered the thought of kissing Chaeyeon—at times, they were a little tempting if not for the fact that she’s a smoker—but rather how delectable her lips are, even with the tainted scent of smoke etched on them. She passionately makes out with you, drives her tongue between yours, drives the wedge that seemingly kept you both apart, and no amount of self-righteous character can bury that want, that craving for affection—and sex.

“You do this with every man you meet?” You forcefully rip yourself from the kiss, only to find your lips dragged back in almost immediately. She knows it’s a futile effort to gain control, something you never had right from the start. 

“Fuck no,” she mouths between even more pecks. “Consider yourself incredibly lucky.”

She’s tugging on opposite ends of your shirt, threatening to rip them apart, something you recognize. Even as you continue to make out, with your hands exploring and marking new territory in the form of her divine figure, you make time for her, letting her freely own you by lifting the obstructive clothing over your head before she promptly tosses it aside in return. Her lips gradually slide down and make themselves familiar with you; your neck first, then your collarbones, smiling to herself as she marks each part as hers with her teeth, while creating more friction by palming your bare chest.

“Finally, someone who’s actually hot,” she quietly mouths to herself, though you can hear her loud and clear. You’ve got a response, a retaliation, but you choose to bask in the moment, acknowledge how good she already makes you feel in the form of a light groan.

Her hands slide down the steep hill that is your torso, until they find more difficult fabric. Locking eyes with yours, she works on your pants, keeping you suspended as she figures out how to claim her rightful prize. Behind those brown pupils is a burning lust, a raging flame consuming her from within, eager to take what she wants; it’s not the same cold stare from before. 

“How long have you wanted me?” she asks, followed by the gentle whir of your zipper as she slides down your pants and boxers in one swing. Before you can formulate a reply, you suddenly release an airy gasp—your only response—caught unaware by her deft, silky hand pressing on your balls and your raging cock. Her smirk widens, amused and absorbed by your electric reaction. 

She continues to fiddle with your cock, giving it one slow, but delicate pump after another, as you fall under her dizzying spell. Forget about the question; the answer is quite clear, based on the stickiness slowly building up between her hand and your cock. Pleasure begins to spike all over your body, and almost single handedly ends you, if not for her other hand keeping you steady against the wall. It’s a little too soon—a little too much for your brain to comprehend.

Her gaze lingers on yours, watching you gradually crumble in real-time; you’re no better than anyone else in this situation. It’s amusing, gets cute, sweet, playful looks that seemingly brighten her day after what seemed to be an absolute disaster. She knows what she’s doing and she loves it. Your hands cling to shoulders, feel the softness of her skin, and it sparks a fire in her eyes, quick to spread and consume.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted me,” she repeats herself, the bright glint in her eyes and her grin more mischievous than serious. Determined to get the answer out of you, she tightly cups your balls, drawing out a deep groan. “I know you’ve been staring at me since we met.”

She’s not entirely wrong. Even in the darkness of that desolate basement, you knew she was drop-dead gorgeous. It became clear under the pale moonlight that she was even hotter: a black crop that teased the subtlest of cleavage, exposed her toned midriff, and jeans that accentuated her shapely ass. Yes, even when you thought she wasn’t interested, she knew your stare never departed. 

“Since always.” Not the best answer; you both literally just encountered each other earlier that night, but it’s the most logical. Not a single girl in college made you hot and heavy like this. Sure, some of them were cute, her sister included, but none of them had that appeal, that love at first sight attraction that Chaeyeon carried. 

Her free arm reaches up to the zipper of her shirt, presses her cleavage together a little. There’s amusement on her features watching in your eagerness to watch them slip. She contemplates the thought, painfully stalling the inevitable by a few precious seconds, then she unzips her top down. One side of the sleeve slides down her shoulders, then the other, until only a matching black bra remains. 

It promptly joins the other clothes on the opposite end of the bathroom, completely irrelevant. 

You and Chaeyeon make quick work of her jeans before you’re quickly drawn together like magnets, feeling each other’s hot, sweaty skin, entangled like a complete puzzle making out against the walls. It’s an intense back and forth, a tug of war as you both desire complete ownership of the other’s body. Each torrid kiss screams of desperation, not intimacy, to be used, to be consumed. 

Spacious as the bathroom is, you can’t seem to find common ground. One moment you’ve got her pinned against the furthest stall, the next she has you fastened in another, until you eventually acquaint yourselves with all three cubicles. Both of you know where this is going and where it should lead; you just don’t know how you can get there. There’s plenty of distractions in front of you, mainly Chaeyeon’s perfect naked figure, a leg wrapped around your hip, and the gleam in her eyes wanting and yearning. It’s dangerous; temptation lurks everywhere you look. If not for the arms wrapped around your neck, occasionally dictating that you only look at her lust-filled face between kisses, the rest of her body would earn your worship. 

Chaeyeon moans, writhes in your grasp, slowly relinquishing control over to you. From her bottom lip, you slip them down to her neck, and she trembles, clings tighter, feeling weak. Her hands pinch the back of your hair, mouth mumbling airy, faint words. It’s passionate, sinful, and tender—something you never expected with an otherwise rough woman like her.

“God, you’re so hot—” you hiss, gasping as her touch arouses you. “Mmm—”

She suddenly regains composure, stops you a breath away from her chest, then pulls you back toward her face. Another deep kiss. “Enough. I’m not in the mood for love making tonight.”

Regretfully, she removes herself from your clutch, pulling you by the hand instead to lead you to the bathroom sink. Every time she kisses you, her lips smell of alcohol and lipstick, and it never gets old. You wonder if she simply likes kissing or if she’s conveying some kind of message that you somehow have to decipher. She notices the curious expression on your face, lets out this droll laugh that gives off the assumption you’re onto something, when really, she’s as unpredictable as ever.

There’s nothing funny, nor is it supposed to be, but it makes no sense, perfectly in line with her character.

Before the awkwardness looms over you again, she grabs you by the waist, pushes you forward to impale her. Her back arches against the sink, perfectly spaced between her torso and legs. She spins around, flaunts her shapely curves that immediately capture your attention—and your hands. Ignore her steely glare that pierces through your reflection in the mirror; her flesh melts, molds comfortably in your grasp, as if they were tailor made for you. 

She grunts, loses control again, but it’s only momentarily. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Even though you’ve seen her look vulnerable, her sharp attitude keeps you on edge, stops you from committing a sinful act. Your cock is in the perfect position to ruin her, break the facade and the space between you, but it’s not a fight worth contending, especially when she follows up with a dagger that almost pierces your heart. “Keep it between my legs.”

You immediately knew what she meant. To be quite honest, it’s a little disappointing. All that preamble, pleasantry, the tease of something more, only to be shot down before it even starts—it’s almost disheartening. Of course, you had no room to complain, not when she’s splayed out in her barest, practically giving you free reign over every other part of her, but something feels—off, incomplete.

Chaeyeon spreads her legs wide, gracious to space your cock right in its center. Her cunt is on full display, ripe and ready to be used, to be fucked. Unfortunately, you won’t get to have any piece of it without her word. It’s near-impossible to look away, spellbinding you with an unforgettable mental image. The thought of—or the lack thereof—filling her pussy torments you. Even as her smooth, perfect thighs sandwich your cock, the notion poisons your mind, leaves you wandering and aimless, until the perfect amount of friction strikes and—

“Fuck.”

It’s smooth, suffocating, devastating. Now you truly have nothing to whine about, except to whine about how tight her legs feel around your cock, rubbing and stroking yourself between her thick thighs. Barely hanging on, you press your hands on her shoulders, losing yourself in the pleasure quickly. Thanks to the little flecks of precum from before, sliding between her heat proves to be much easier. 

Slowly but surely, you grow accustomed to her asphyxiating warmth, unable to process anything beyond the slickness and powerful sensations around her flesh. Eyes closed, you moan in prolonged, deep spurts, resting your head beside hers. Her feelings don’t matter at this moment, only yours. You don’t realize her hand is gripped to your thigh, only that it amplifies the surge of pleasure coursing throughout your body. A possible reminder to keep your cock away from her cunt, but you didn’t need it anymore—her thighs are more than enough.

“Yeah. Fucking enjoy it, horny bitch.” Chaeyeon’s tone and expression seemingly derives no enjoyment from watching you lose it, as if it’s only an obligation and not something both of you share pleasure in. She moans, but it’s faint and weak. “That feels good, right?”

“It does,” you blurt, trapped in the heavenly bliss between her legs, loving every little motion. “So good, Chaen, holy fuck—”

She sees you visibly struggling and helplessly trying to gather air, smiles and laughs at your predicament. It’s a mess; it’s her schadenfreude. Delightful, she thinks to herself, now playing along with her lewd expressions plastered on the mirror. Unconvincing, if not a bit too much leaning towards parody. She’s waiting for the opportunity to get the edge over you, the killing blow. 

Tightening her grip around your cock, her toned legs collapse, and you can feel the fire in your loins gradually building and hurling toward a calamitous explosion. There’s nothing you can do to stop—not that you ever want to, watching your cock slide in and out her thighs at a perfect rhythm is its own reward—only praying that the moment lingers a bit longer. You’ve got both hands pinched to her taut nipples, thankfully unresisted, kissing around her collarbone and ear, trying in vain to stifle the endless string of curses and moans leaving your lips.

It doesn’t help that her voice is seductive, downright merciless, repeatedly goading you into submission, staring at your reflection expectantly. “That’s it. Cum for me, bitch. You won’t ever get this kind of opportunity with anyone else but with me. No one else will ever make you feel this good. Just cum, and cum, and cum—”

The word rings in your head, hypnotic, borderline leaning toward brainwashing. It isn’t gaslighting when she has a point; she feels so fucking incredible, so tight and hot and suffocating—no one else can possibly compare. Then again, ecstasy is the only thing running through your head, clouding your better judgment. You’ve got a hand digging through her endless sea of blonde locks, pumping between her thighs, each thrust sorer than the last, like you’ll regret the action in the morning. 

“I’m so close, Chaen. I’m going to cum,” you say desperately. 

There’s that familiar twinkle in her eyes, and a mischievous grin forming on her lips. Troubling. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you say, your cock aching painfully between her wet, toned thighs. 

“Please.” 

“Please!” you shout, teetering dangerously close to the edge, threatens you and Chaeyeon. Again, slowing down proves to be impossible. You’re so far gone.

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum! Please let me cum, Chaen, oh God.”

“That’s it. Cum—”

As soon as she lets that word out, the lights immediately turn green. Releasing all your inhibitions, your eyes widen, pumping your cock hurling to that oh-so deserved orgasm between her legs. Her thighs receive every last shot, every single drop. You both moan into each other’s ear, with Chaeyeon finding comfort and satisfaction from feeling the warmth you’ve given her. 

She throws her head back, cranes her neck, brushes a hand around your hair while you pump through your climax. Eventually, your cock slips, winds down to a complete halt. You find your lips returning to her collarbones, taking solace on her sensitive flesh as you remain intimately attached together for a little while longer.

“Shit.” You look down, past the curves of her chest, see the puddles and drops of slick on the floor. She mirrors your gesture, checks the damage between her legs, and it’s a disaster: her thighs are dripping with cum down to her feet, with two noticeable blots parallel to the other. 

“So needy.” Chaeyeon says with a laugh, caressing your cheek, her voice a temptation in your ear, goading you for more. “Not lucky with the ladies, hmm?”

Wistfully, you reply, “Yeah.”

Chaeyeon slowly releases your chin from her hand, slips from your clutch to grab a stream of tissue rolls to clean herself up. You cling to the sink with wobbly legs, staring down at the basin, overcome by a wave of both regret and exhaustion. Unwelcome thoughts creep in. A lack of protection, a return of her dour persona, and your reputations at stake—you’ll entertain them all in the morning, when the honeymoon period ends.

When you look up, you see Chaeyeon in the mirror, almost finished dressing up, fixing her cleavage before zipping up her crop top. She stares back, grinning. “You know you still have to drive me home. So when you’re done pining over not cumming in my pussy—”

“Where? Where's home?”

“Yours.”

—————

(A/N: Finally got to one of the four selected requests! I'm sorry this one took a lot longer than expected, but what can you expect from me XD I still have PCD as I write this down and no amount of copium can help me recover haha. I loved the request as it gave me the perfect excuse to write Chaeyeon again; she's an underrated hottie and I'm glad she (1) quit Queendom Puzzle instead of pushing through and (2) Knock became a surprise hit. It's only a matter of time before her star rises even further. Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #chaeyeon #lee chaeyeon

[luvtak]

you can hear it in the silence, njm

✧ pairing na jaemin x reader

✧ genre/tw est. relationship, crying, reader is drunk weeping lol, fluff fluff fluff!! suggestive at the end, reader is described to be smaller than jaemin, basically you love jaemin so much you can't stop crying about it and he loves you too!!

✧w/c 1216

✧ a/n cooked this one up after weeks of writing nothing lmao, i love jaemin and thats what started this. i hope you love reading it as much as i liked writing it <3

You wonder how silly you look, eyes flooded and nose pouring out snot.

It’s not the crying that’s silly, it’s the reason for the tears—your boyfriend’s smile spread miles across his face laughing at his friends. He just looks so beautiful, every bit of the boy you fell in love with those months ago shifting and changing himself into the version he is now. Always so gorgeous and so kind that you can’t help being moved to tears by this joyful vision of him.

Maybe it’s the alcohol coursing through your system pushing past playful debauchery and welcoming melodrama, or maybe it’s just that you love him.

You love him so much you find it hard to talk about, only letting out the words in the quiet cathedral of your home together. Jaemin doesn’t seem to mind, carrying enough confidence in his affections for the both of you—he’s fluent in love, knows how to carry a conversation in his heart and his body, knows all the slang terms and cultural practices; he’s an expert at love, even more so at loving you.

Somehow, he always knows exactly what you need, handing you a cup before you can say you’re thirsty, calling you at the precise time you leave to walk in the dark, kissing you right before you say his three favorite words. So, it’s not surprising when he looks up to see you with tears spiraling down your face.

Although, he can’t tell if their happy tears or not. He thinks in some part of himself that they must be, that if you were so heartbroken you would’ve parted the crowd of people to get to him—or worse fled outside or to a bathroom, somewhere to cry by yourself. But you look so sad. A picture of pain, standing all alone in a corner—bliss and mischief touching everything but your tragic little bubble.

Without warning, Jaemin finds himself rushing to you, offering only a short see you later! Before separating himself from the boys surrounding him. You’ve caved into yourself, crying and sniffling about something he couldn’t understand, what happened in the forty minutes he’d been away from you to make you like this?

“Hey…hey, look at me. What’s wrong? What’s on your mind pretty thing?” his voice so quiet in such a loud room, the deep timbre of it reverberating through your shaking frame. It cuts through the electronica coming from the speakers and finally your eyes meet. And there he is, your disgustingly pretty boy. So handsome and darling even with worry in his eyes, boyish beauty covering every inch of him. How you love him, and this love only makes you cry more: barely getting your words out,

 “Oh, it’s nothing Jaemin, I just love you.” Your speech is slurred and spluttered out, almost indistinguishable from the whimpers and sobs from before, but he hears you. He thinks his ears must be fine-tuned to your voice because there is no other way he should’ve been able to decipher your upset dawdling’s.

 “You silly creature, why would you cry over me?” “Jus- just love you that’s all. Can’t believe you love me too.” Your words end in a huff, blanketed by the sound of his arms pulling you in. He’s so tall, bigger than you in every way and yet you fit together like a puzzle. His arms caging you in, pressing so close to put your ear to his heart. It’s beating so fast, pulsing beneath your head in an uneven rhythm, he must’ve been so worried. It makes your head hurt a little thinking about your sweet summer boy looking up to see you like this, rushing over for nothing but the drunk ramblings of someone who should probably be in bed.

“So, these are happy tears?” a nod given hesitantly from you in response, you aren’t quite sure they are happy—more of a mix, a bittersweet concoction of future happiness and past regret that you can’t seem to name. “Promise?”

“Yes, Jaem, I promise.” it’s only then does he let up, pulling you away from his chest for just a moment to look at your tear-stricken face. He loves every version of you, but he wished he didn’t have to see this one; Sleepy and sad and crying over silly things.

“I love you so much, and I’m glad you know… even if it makes you cry all alone at parties.” Your smile is a shot of spring, giving new life to the previous tragic picture of it. He wishes you were alone, free to love you in all the ways he needs to. He knows these party patrons won’t mind, but you would, and he’d hate to make you uncomfortable in any way even if it is just a kiss in a crowded room—you’d care, so he cares.

He knows you need to leave, knows this loud pulsing of music is doing nothing to calm the storm in your head, he knows he needs to be sensible. With one last embrace, whispering his true feelings, he offers you his hand and says, “Let’s go home, huh?”

The walk is fast, but the night chill bites. Sobering you from the inside out and forcing the two of you to stand together like you’re in a three-legged race—laughing and stumbling into the dark. He jokes and teases and wishes for your smiles, not daring to kiss you until your eyes light with happiness instead of this strange melancholy you found yourself in. When you finally grin up at him, he thanks God you’re alone.

 Finally, there is no one around but your boy and the stars, smiling down at you and waiting for your next move. He presses his hands to your face to trace the path your stray tears took. He’s such a pretty boy, alive and electric and in love, and all you can do is kiss him. A slow press of your lips before he takes control, searching for the love on your lips, whittling you down to the bone so the only thing on your mind is him, him, him.

He tells you he loves you too in between kisses, it’s so messy, smiles meeting in the middle and clacking teeth. Kisses so harsh you wonder where your sweet boy went, just for him to shift back—tender hands on fragile skin.

 You think this is what it means to have found your person, trusting your heart and your body in someone else’s hands and walking into the night.

Jaemin’s body is warm, so yours is too; his smile is the crescent moon above you, reflecting off your own until you’re both smiley fools rushing towards your front door. You know what will happen next, you know he’ll show you how fluent in love he really is—show you with his hands and his heart and his tongue, how he’ll tuck you in and tell you his three favorite words. You know you’ll wake up to his love again, surrounding you like the early morning sun and making you cry tears of pleasure instead of bittersweet pain.

You know you’ll be happy and in love,

and when your pretty boy tells you, I love you sweetheart, you’ll say it back.

You are in love.

© luvtak

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct x reader #jaemin #nct dream x reader #na jaemin #nct dream #nct #✧ drabble

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Old Scars, New Blood 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she’ll never be wanted, not only by the man she’s crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: I hope you all have a great day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, at least on your end. Lloyd chews loudly, licking his chops, and sucking his fingers loudly. The rose tint is tinged gray.

You pull into the compound and shift into park sharply. You don't move as you wait for Lloyd to get out. He wastes no time ditching you, letting out a shameless belch as he drops down onto the ground. The door snaps shut behind him and you huff.

You look over at the garbage left in his place. That's exactly where you belong. Right there with the trash.

You swipe up the crumple bag filled with wrappers and his half-finished soda. The keys jingle against the paper cup as you swipe your phone out behind you. You dump what's left of the espresso from your own cup and sheath it around the other.

You elbow the door shut and cross the dark grounds. The moon is a sliver that offers little light in the dark. You approach the doors and enter to the muted ruckus of voices and clinking bottles. Yet another night of debauchery. You don't know how Lloyd hasn't fallen right in with his guests.

You go to the kitchen and jam the bag and cups deep in the bin. You have half the mind to go through the fridge and get rid of all those meals you slaved over. Just like everything else, he'll spit it back in your face.

You flip open the door and stop yourself. No, no, he got the reaction he wanted, you're only shooting your own foot at this point. 

Your eyes center on a dark bottle with a silver label. Fuck it. You snatch the prosecco and swing the fridge shut.

You march back down the hall and ignore the din that seeps through from the dining room and various other doorways. You go upstairs to your room and close yourself in, letting the wood slam into the frame. You're not even mad at him, you're furious at yourself. Why can't you just accept it?

You drop the keys on the dresser, your phone too, and keep the bottle in hand. You untwist the wire around the cork and toss it aside. You push with your thumb until it pops and a fizzle escapes the long neck. 

You watch the wisp that rises and you gulp straight from the bottle. You cringe as your eyes water from bubbles and the stringently sweet wine floods your mouth. You gulp until you can't anymore. A quarter of the bottle down, you plunk it on the nightstand and let it sink into your veins.

You undress lazily and leave your clothes on the floor. You don't give a fuck. For one night, you just don't want to think. Hell, if you drink enough, you might just do something real stupid.

You grab the bottle and carry it into the bathroom. As you bend over to twist the faucet, the wine creeps into your brain, hazing your vision in warmth. You pull the lever for the stopper and slowly push yourself straight.

You lean on the porcelain and take another swig. You pop your mouth off the rim and lift one leg, then the other. You ease into the tub, splashing slightly as the water flows higher and higher.

You lean your head back, resting the bottle against the edge as you grip it tight. The ripples around you and beneath the skin and numb the ache in your chest. You close your eyes, drinking without thinking, guzzling until your stomach is full and the tub is nearly full.

You lay as you are, basking in the heat of the water. You could fall asleep right there. Just drift beneath the surface.

That thought jerks you awake. You sit up, dizzy, and get to your knees clumsily. You reach over the side to clunk the bottle onto the tile. You flip the stopper and lift yourself.

You get out, feet crashing onto the bathmat. You cling to the tub and take a breath. You reach for the bar and drag the towel off. You don't feel too bad, just a bit unsteady.

You wrap yourself up and teeter as you bend to grab the bottle. You clamber towards the door. You nudge it all the way open with your elbow.

As you enter the room, you stagger to a halt. You don't expect the figure sitting on your bed, watching you enter as he faces the bathroom door. You blink and squeeze the bottle tighter. 

You're buzzed. No, you're drunk.

You skin singes with self-awareness. Not only of the alcohol that dulls your mind but of the single piece of fabric around you.

“It's not healthy to drink alone,” Thor grins, a paper crinkles between his fingers, “or other things.”

He shows the slip of paper and you shake your head. He clicks his tongue and squints at it, “didn't take you for a cherry girl.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head, confused until you recall hastily hiding away the receipt in your pants. Fuck.

“I don't really use lube myself. Don't need it,” he reaches to drop the paper on the night table.

“What are you…” you clamp your lips shut as a hiccup rises. You swallow it and sway. 

“I don't make promises I don't keep, “ he stands, towering over you as he comes closer.

“You… it was a joke, wasn't it?” You babble dumbly.

“Why would I joke about that?” He stops before you and wraps his hand around the bottle, “mm, not much for bubbly,” he wiggles it free and swiftly empties what's left before examining the empty bottle, “how was your little business trip, eh?”

You frown and cross your arms over the top of the towel, “why are you here?” You ask again.

“I told you–”

“No, why… why did you come here? He hates you.”

“I got that sense of him,” Thor chortles, “doesn't bother me much.” He backs away and sets the bottle on the receipt, “I'm here to play with him. Have a bit of fun. However, he's not as amusing as I hoped. But you…”

“I…” you shake your head, “I'm drunk. I need to lay down.”

“Happily,” he winks as he reaches for you.

You sidle away, “please, I…” you swallow and your eyes flit around, “I can't–”

“Because of him? You’re wasting your time,” he latches onto your hand and draws it away from your chest, “he doesn't deserve you, little lamb.”

“I don't… it isn't because of him…”

“You're a poor liar,” he tuts, “shouldn't take your lessons from him.”

“Stop,” you try to tug away.

“You don't know what you need,” he drags you towards the bed, “it isn't him.”

“Please,” you whimper.

“You don't need to be nervous, I can be nice, kitten,” he purrs as he yanks you against him.

“I can't–” you squeak into a yelp as the towel falls away from your body, “Thor, please–”

“Louder,” he swiftly picks you up with his hands on your ass. 

You writhe against him as he spins and falls with you onto the mattress. It bounces under you and you nearly choke on your tongue. You slap his chest as he leans over you and smothers your mouth with his.

You close your eyes as they tingle and you dig your nails into the fabric of his shirt. You whimper and feel around with your other hand as he kneads your ass. You're overcome by his brusqueness. More so, you can't handle the touch, the way his hot breath consumes you, and that flicker on your core that has the vision of another flashing in your mind.

You turn your head and let out a croak as your tears leak out, “I can't,” you whine, “you're right, okay? I want him. I'm a stupid girl that wants someone like him.”

You bring your hand up to shield your face as he lifts himself on his elbow. He hovers over you as you devolve into sobs, “I'm pathetic.”

“Shhhh,” the soft stroke along your cheek startles you, “little kitty,” he slithers, “shhh.”

He shifts and comes down to his side. He slips his arm under your neck as you curl up, trying to disappear. He rolls you towards him so your face is against his shoulder. He pets your head as he holds you.

“Oh, little one,” he cooes, “it hurts now… but I can make it so much better.”

He stays like that, embracing you as you quake in your despair. You keep your face buried against his shirt as his thick muscles fill you with a sense of security. His other hand rests on your hip but does not wander.

Heaviness drapes over you and your body slowly slackens. The wine dulls your nerves and swirls in your head. You feel yourself spiraling and quickly fade into the void.

❤️‍🩹

Your brow twitches and your nose itches. You nearly smack yourself as you throw your hand up and groan. The effort makes you wince.

Ugh, hungover. It's been a while.

You bend your leg and the blanket falls away to uncover your naked thigh. You frown and peek down as you lift the blanket. No clothes. You blanch and lay back, trying to summon the memories of the previous night.

The buzzing of the shower draws your attention away from your internal search. Along with the thrum is the deep baritone singing a song you've never heard. You blink, long and hard, and push yourself up.

Your heart feels as if it's stopped beating. Your breath catches and you look around the room. There's clothing hung over the chair in the corner. Men's clothes.

Oh god.

You wouldn't…

As the melody carries, slightly offkey, you recognise the singer. Thor. Oh. Oh no.

You curl your fingers against the mattress, barely able to hold yourself up. You remember the bath and then him waiting and him on top of you but everything else is gone. How can you not remember? 

A pit plunges down to your stomach. No, you're not like that. You've held out all these years…

Well, how many chances did you really get?

The shower cranks off and you gulp, hugging the blanket against your chest as you sidle around to the edge of the bed. You can hear him moving around, humming. You don't know what to do.

As the door opens, you try to think of what to say. Hi, good morning, what the heck happened last night?

You're speechless as he emerges butt naked. Brazen as he has himself on full display. Full display.

You snap your mouth shut as he uses a towel to dry his hair and winks as he drops it down to wrap his waist. 

“Morning, kitten,” he growls, “you seem chipper.”

You try to talk but can only cough. You reach to touch your throat and rub the lump free, “Thor, what… last night…” your voice cracks with each syllable.

“Ha, you think we…” he lets the suggestion dangle and scoffs.

You nod. Of course, he's all bluster. He wouldn't actually want you.

“When it happens, you will remember it,” he taunts, “I like to build up to sleep fucking.”

Your jaw falls open, “Thor…”

“Besides, if anything had happened, you would remember it.”

“I…” you flutter your lashes, “I should–”

“Well here you are,” he knots the towel around his waist, “lucid…”

“...get dressed,” you complete your previous threat.

You stand but he blocks you easily. He catches your shoulders and urges you back. Your legs hit the mattress and you sit, unable to fight his strength.

“Now?” You squeak.

He rumbles with laughter as his hands trail down your arms, “just a taste. To pep me up for the day.”

“Uhhh,” your voice rolls out senselessly as his hand crawls over the blanket and he tugs it. You cling to it desperately. 

He snarls and yanks up the bottom, tossing it over his head as he seizes your thighs beneath. You yelp as he bows and pulls your legs apart. You lose hold of the blanket and it rumples at your waist as you catch yourself on the heels of your hands.

You wriggle and try to resist him as his head pokes up beneath the blankets. He has you leaning back on your arms as he pulls your legs over his shoulders. You lift a hand and slap his head as you realise what he's about to do.

Too late.

Your hand falls against his head as his hot breath tingles along your thighs. His cool tongue slips between your folds and you gasp, electricity coursing through you. Oh!

You let out a pathetic noise as you push futilely on his head, still writhing as he nuzzles further into you. His large tongue spreads wide and he flicks it up over your clit. You spasm and yipe in surprise at another zing.

“Thor,” you breathe.

He pulls back for just an instant, “louder, kitten, can't hear you under here.”

He dives back in and the bed bounces as you jolt. You try to smack him again but only urge him. You gasp and quiver helplessly, toes curling and legs tingling. What do you do?

Oh god, what can you do? This is better than any toy you got hidden in your nightstand. This is an actual man. It's real and it feels so good.

He wraps his arms around your legs and rips you down onto your back as he lifts your pelvis higher. He hums into you and it ripples up to your chest. You hiss and slap the bed as lay defeated.

“Ohhhhh,” you drone out as you succumb to the delightful swirls.

He growls and your breath hitches. He turns his head, just for a moment, and nips your thigh, “louder…”

You mewl and utter his name. It's as much a plea for him to keep going as it is for him to stop. He laps at you again and you cry out. That seems to fuel his fervour as he suckles at you eagerly. 

Your voice rises without your permission. Your whines burst from you as you claw at the blanket and squirm. You can't hold back. It's more than just that moment, it's years of waiting, of wanting.

You don't care that it's not who you wanted. You don't care if anyone else hears. You can't think straight enough for any of that as you call out Thor’s name, bucking your hips desperately into an orgasm.

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #thor x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #old scars new blood #mcu #marvel #avengers #the gray man #au

[quinloki]

CYOA - Eustass Kid x Reader

There's an idea kicking around in my head, just a little one-shot kind of thing, but I wasn't sure where I wanted it to go, and decided that I'd just let you all decide.

How this works: I'll write a part of the story and leave the decision point as a poll. Depending on the weight of the decision it'll either be a day or a week.

If things go well I may start doing these as a monthly series when there's not much else going on (so May, June, August, September, December, etc.)

CW: CNC, bondage, orgasm denial, gender neutral (they/them) afab reader style, dom/sub setting, free use - reader and Kid are testing the waters of an always on dom/sub relationship with a month-long trial. (more warnings may apply as the story progresses).

Summary: Modern AU. Kid owns a BDSM club, and you - and the "crew" - live on the top floor. Most everyone has their own flat, but there's a lot of criss-cross on who is in whose bed on any given night. You and Kid have been steady for a year, and you have more casual relations with other members of the crew.

Everyone knows everything, communication and consent are king - this is not a noncon/cheating story.

Frustration and nerves ate at you as you worked your fingers over your needy clit. You weren't wearing any leather cuffs, or a collar, because you were just finishing up with a shower.

A week ago you and Kid had agreed on the terms of some 24/7 bdsm play. Kid had free use rights, others in the crew just had to ask him before interacting with you, but you could turn them down. You could, technically, turn Kid down too.

Begging Kid to stop wouldn't work, you wanted to be able to scream your head off and have him rail you. But you had some hand signals, and tunes you could hum if you needed things to slow down, and a phrase that would pause things for that day, or end it for the rest of the month.

What you had expected when you agreed to this, was to enjoy all the deepest debaucheries that lurked with Eustass Kid. You expected you'd spend hours on the breeding bench, mouth full of his cock once he fucked your cunt raw, tears down your face as you gagged and struggled to please him.

You figured he'd spit in your mouth, smack you around, and call you all sorts of degrading shit. He could - he enjoyed it, you knew that much for sure, and so did you.

Instead, you'd spent the last week naked except for a collar and cuff combination that kept your wrists just a few inches from your neck. Kid fed you, touched and teased you, but never even so much as put a finger in your mouth. He'd get you worked up until you were begging him for more, and then just deny you.

If you complained too much he'd just put you over his knee until your ass was red, and then you'd be worked up, desperate, sore and even needier than you were before hand.

You slept together too, so there was no sneaking in some pleasure at night either.

You were desperate for release, and walking around naked, the feel of his hand against your skin whenever he wanted, kept you on an edge that was maddening.

But you weren't going to use any of your safe words just for some denial. Especially not when you'd come to realize that shower time was your alone time. Well, when you had to go you got privacy then too, but it's hard to do that and masturbate at the same time. There's no time to come down from your high then.

After all the things Kid had done to you, taking care of things manually was a little anticlimactic, but desperate times and measures.

Your body was tensing from the building pleasure, legs and toes starting to curl as the sweet build up began to warm your entire body. You kept your breathing quiet, and bit your lower lip to help stifle any sounds that might give you away.

Just as you were nearly there, the bathroom door opened, and Kid stood in the doorway. He doesn't look surprised to see you in the situation, but the look on his face is clear:

You're in trouble.

#CYOA Eustass Kid #x reader #reader insert #mdni #18+ only #dead dove #read the godsdamned CW #quin poll #modern au #eustass kid

[somnambulic-thing]

insane

musician!Eddie x afab art student!Reader E 18+ | 4.6k Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, but I'm an enby bitch and write my readers that way. You decide.

A/N: I wrote this right after finishing Paint It Black while my brain was still stuck in that universe. It is, however, not really what I would call a thought through finished/rounded story, since I lost steam at some point. It stops at the end of a scene without a cliffhanger or anthing like that. It's 1st draft quality, but I thought it would be sad if it withered away in my drafts if there is the chance that at least a few people enjoy it. It should work as a standalone when you're willing to maybe not get a few references. There's some context in the beginning. Again, you decide.

CW |strangers to lovers aka feral love at first sight, light smut: piv, fluff, showering together, intense feelings of falling in love, Corroded Coffin concert, Erica on the bass (guess she's a little older in this universe), Eddie POV, Steve POV in 3rd person, other ST characters, worried, protective but supportive friends, mentions of food, traces of Jonathan/Argyle|

It was like Eddie was going a little insane. It felt unreal that it hadn’t been quite twenty-four hours since he'd seen you for the first time, up in the second row of that life drawing class. Gareth had been working as an exhibition tech for that art school in that fancy old building for two months and was pretty enthusiastic about it. Like he was part of a community now - which was the way Gareth went about things these days - and he needed to support all those artists in becoming by leaving those flyers for life modelling fucking everywhere.

Gareth would be elated to hear how committed Eddie had been on his first job.

He looked at you fast asleep beside him, naked and covered in blue and purple marks his mouth had left all over you and felt a little insane again. There was this urge to move over and press his face into the soft skin of your chest until he was desperate for breath He also never wanted you to wake up and this moment to end. Blue morning light played with your skin while you looked so peaceful despite the traces of debauchery.

A sigh slipped from his mouth and you stirred, brows drawing together slightly and he wanted to kiss the spot in between. Hell, it was like that with everything.

After Eddie had asked you where you wanted to shower off the sweat and black paint, he had taken you home. In the car, you had reached out to the radio and he had to snatch your hand before you could pull it back to kiss the tips of your fingers. When you had kicked off your shoes in his hallway, the tip of your tongue had peeked out of your mouth and he just had to kiss it. Every little detail he learned about the way your body behaved, he wanted to put his praise to it.

You had talked nonstop all the way to Eddie's place, up the stairs, out of your clothes again and into the shower. There was something sublime in the way the paint rinsed off your body. Black flaky streams of water making their way over the hills and valleys of your physique. That too made him feel a little insane and you agreed with him when he'd told you about it. Shit, he wanted to tell you about everything that crossed his mind, wanted to hear your thoughts about the smallest details. Then you had moved behind him, soap coating your palms and washed him until the only black remaining on him was permanent ink.

You had told him, while slathering him in foam and bubbles, that it made you a little crazy how his wet skin reflected the light. Something about undertones you needed to study - Eddie needed to ask about that later in detail - and he had finally calmed down a little. He wasn't going insane alone, you were just as crazy about him.

Jeff had come home while the both of you had spent a little eternity in the bathroom and the intensity with which Eddie wanted to introduce you to his best friend as 'his' was only topped by the urge of getting you into his bed. Maybe it was better for you to get to know his friends when you weren't just wearing a towel and bite marks. Pride had flooded Eddie when Jeff pulled up his eyebrows paired with a smirk and a raised thumb as he rushed you through the hallway into his room.

It had been hard to hold back and let you look around as you wandered so far away from the mattress he was so determined to fuck you through.

"DnD?" you had asked, head stuck in a shelf displaying all kinds of DnD paraphernalia. Eddie loved your voice when it asked questions.

"Uh-hn. Since I was a kid. My uncle bought me a handbook at a yard sale because he thought I’d like the pictures and I've been hooked ever since."

There was adoration in your eyes and excitement in your voice. "So you’re a nerd?"

"Guilty as charged."

You bit your finger with a small smile and he of course wanted to kiss all of it. "Dungeon Master, by any chance?"

Not for the first time today Eddie asked with a stunned face: "How do you know?" Followed by: "Do you play?"

"You have this..." you waved around your beautiful hands while looking for the right words, "this way of taking charge and narrating your thoughts... and I have played before, yes, but not in a long time."

And then Eddie had stolen your towel and went to work on that mental list of places he needed to kiss. His hand found its way between your thighs, slow and soft this time and finally, you found your way into Eddie's bed and under him and he back inside you.

There was no rush, no hard fast urgency - well, he took you hard by the end because you liked it when he shattered you a little. You had told him that between licking into his mouth while he rolled his hips against you, his aching cock sliding against your folds, teasing you just a little before turning you to your side, watching himself slide into you in the mirror across the room.

You had ordered food, that you had shared in bed. You were so fucking funny all the time that he kept dropping shit and a change of sheets was due because there was no way Eddie would spend his first night with you between food-stained covers.

There had been no conversation if you'd stay, you just did. It would have been a waste of time, breath lost that could be used to learn more about you, tell you more about him.

By four in the morning, you both knew a lot and entirely too little. It was ridiculous.

And that brought him here, looking at you asleep and too good to be true. It was a little painful, actually. But just like when you pulled his hair or bit at his neck or hips, Eddie wanted to lean into it.

"You... staring at me, Munson?"

"Studying you." He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Too bad my drawing skills are so fucking rusty..."

Ah, he made you smile; how addictive that was. "You’re studying me from too far away. Come here."

"Needy?" he asked as he pressed himself against you, burying his face in your neck. It couldn't be a coincidence that he fit in there so perfectly.

"Hmmm, just like you."

"M' bad at hiding that, aren’t I?"

A kiss landed on his hair, nails softly grazed over the curve of his spine. "Why the fuck would you want to do that?"

"Don’t want to scare you away."

You pulled back and squinted one eye at him.

"We're meeting your uncle this afternoon. You think needy will scare me away now?"

Eddie ran his hand up your side and smiled. "Wayne will love you."

"You think?"

"See no reason why he wouldn't."

"You know that this here," you pointed your chin between the both of you, "is a little insane, right?"

Eddie snorted and pressed a kiss to your arm. "Uh-hn, but I can't find it in me to give a shit... S' that bad?"

"I guess then we're bad people."

He softly kissed your lips, feeling tingly and warm. “Bad people in good company.”

—

When Wayne got Eddie alone for a few minutes he asked why he had kept you a secret for so long.

"Old man, we met yesterday. Could't have brought her over earlier without us barging in here naked."

"You're shittin' me?"

"Nope," he grinned.

Wayne's mouth hung open for a moment. "Eddie, ya'll been talking like you've been married for a decade. And happily at that."

"Feels more like two."

Scratching his head, Wayne was looking for words. "That's insane, boy."

"I know," he said with that pride again. "Wait till you hear the full story... well... ahm... maybe not all of it. Shit, actually there's not much I can tell you..."

"Goin' by the looks of her neck I don't doubt it." Wayne had a sip from his mug, eyes crinkling with a smile over the rim.

"You like her?"

"Love her!" Then his features dimmed with a tinge of worry. "I’m happy for you, Eddie. Just don't get your heart broken."

—

Splitting the nights between Eddie’s and your place was another thing that didn’t need discussing. You share a place with your best friend Barb and she gave Eddie a thorough interrogation when he stayed over for the first time.

“You’re a serial killer or something?”

“Only on game nights,” he grinned.

“What are you doing?”

“Talking to you.”

Barb crossed her arms and pulled up her brows. “So you’re a funny one. Are you going to school? Are you working?”

“I’m a studio musician. Sometimes I sub for live gigs too, but that interferes too much with the time for my own band, so I really only do that occasionally when I dig the music.”

Eddie tried not to say something smart when he saw her efforts to suppress some sort of impressed surprise forming on her features.

“And you’re modelling?”

“Nah,” he laughed. “Well, that one time, yeah. Just was trying out something new. We’ll see if I’ll do that again.”

You walked back into the room, naturally drawn over to him like he was a giant magnet, instantly weaving your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck.

“Are you mean to my man, Barbara?”

Eddie shuddered and pushed a hand past the hem of your shirt; he was so hungry for your skin.

“No,” Barb huffed. “We’re just getting to know each other… aaaand—“

“And?” you said flatly.

“Come oooon,” she whined. “You can’t be mad at me that I am worried about you!”

Eddie looked up to you, leaning back a little to catch your eyes. “It’s not unreasonable.”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“And I don’t mind,” he said. You brushed a thumb over his cheekbone and he chased it with a small kiss before smiling. “I know how to handle myself when I feel unreasonably bullied.”

“You’re so fucking cute,” you sighed and smiled down at him. Barb made a dry heaving sound.

“I am trapped in a rom-com simulation or something.” She took her mug from the table and walked out, calling from around the corner: “Try not to wake me with weird sex stuff, please?”

“She’s usually very sweet,” you told him with a frown when you were alone again. “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, I mean it. It’s okay.” Eddie turned and moved you in between his spread knees, hugging your waist, smiling up at you. “Chances are high that Steve will give you a similar treatment. He’s usually very sweet too, but he’s got this whole mama bear thing going on so… sorry about that.”

—

“Dude… Dude… Edward!”

“Huh?” Eddie’s head snapped back to Steve who looked a little annoyed. “What did you just say?”

Steve rolled his eyes and looked down at his watch. “It’s kinda time for you to head towards the stage.”

“Mhh, gimme me five more minutes, I don’t want to miss her.”

Ever since Steve had heard about that mysterious new spouse not quite three days ago, he hadn’t been able to stop frowning. Eddie was a bag of feral cats on his best days but right now he was a nervous fucking mess. His eyes were glued to the glass door of the venue and he was about to chew off his bottom lip any moment.

“If she comes, she’ll easily find you. You’re hard to miss front-center stage.”

“If?” Eddie looked horrified.

“When… I mean when she comes, Jesus.”

“What if something happened?”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“Hey!” Eddie said, face hard. “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry… I… you’re really intense about this man, I’m getting a little worried.”

Eddie looked back at the door and bounced on his toes. “Well, I’m really intensely in love with her so you better get used to it.”

“In love?” Steve blurted out and braced himself for another burning look but Eddie kept his face directed at the door. “Man, it’s been five days!”

“Don’t know what that has to do with anything. It’s not like I can just turn it off—“

“Eddie?” Jeff called over the noise of the opening act droning in the background. “You coming or what?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he looked away from the door at last. “On my way.”

Steve trudged down the corridor and pushed his way into the concert hall, squinting as the loud music of the opener hit his eardrums. The lights were flickering in tune with the outro of the song as he pushed his way past sweating people to the front where Jonathan and Robin should be. He needed to seriously roll his eyes at someone who wasn’t going to rip his fucking head off for finding this whole thing concerning.

The music stopped right as he put his chin on Robin’s shoulder. On stage, the frontwoman thanked the cheering crowd for a good time.

“And?” Robin asked excitedly. “She here?”

“Nah. Eddie is losing his mind.”

Jonathan joined them, looking a little red around the eyes. “I think it’s cute somehow?”

“Cute?” Steve huffed. “Don’t know about that.”

“Hey, at least wait until you have met her,” Robin rasped. She had definitely had a good time with that first band.

“Did you know he has two drawers at her place? Two. After five days!”

Jonathan shrugged. “You have to put your shit somewhere.”

Steve slapped a hand against his forehead. “Jesus… he’s going to get his heart broken!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Robin! Nothing can hold up like that over time!”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to,” Jonathan said.

“Yeah, if you start at unbelievable falling down to amazing is still amazing.”

“Wow, Rob,” Jonathan gasped. “That was deep.”

“Thanks, Jon.”

Steve leaned over the barrier in front of the stage and rubbed his face in disbelief. “When have you two become such firm believers in overdone romance novel tropes?”

Jonathan shrugged again. “I kinda knew I was in for Argyle after two weeks, man. And it’s been years now.”

“Yeah, alright, but you took a few months to let it grow!”

The lights dimmed down and fog started to creep over the stage floor. Whistles and shouts sounded from the crowd that was waiting for the main show to begin.

Corroded Coffin wasn’t big by business standards, but they had acquired a pretty solid fanbase by now. This was actually the biggest crowd they’d ever played on a solo gig. Gareth’s silhouette emerged from the fog, arms raised, one hand forked in a salute, the other armed with sticks. The crowd cheered, getting louder when Jeff took his place behind his mic, checking his pedals on the floor in what Steve knew to be superstition.

“It’s about to happen,” Robin said next to him, clapping her hands in excitement and right on cue, Erica stormed the stage, swinging her bass like a battle axe. Erica had replaced Grant a few years ago and was by now one of Eddie’s closest friends. Steve needed to pull her over and ask her what she had to say about the whole ordeal sometime soon.

People roared, longtime fans chanting Erica’s name and her grin shone brighter than the fucking spotlights. Last came Eddie. He marched in, radiating with the energy that hinted at the total beast he turned into on stage. Steve was glad to see that this madness didn’t dim him down. Jonathan moved his mouth but it was already hard to hear over the cheers and chants and whistles.

Eddie grabbed his mike and did his thing, luring the crowd in closer, his voice low and rumbling. He laughed diabolically, tongue sticking out as a sea of hands flew in the air and people bounced in anticipation. Erica hit the first notes, her thick heavy bass hitting Steve right in the stomach and he could see Eddie scan the first few rows with a nervous frown, pacing back and forth with squared shoulders. His hand was so firm around the neck of his guitar, Steve was worried he would snap it clean off. Robin threw Steve a glance; she saw it too. For everybody else, Eddie just looked intense, about to give them a show but his friends could see something cracking through.

He didn’t miss his cue though. He rarely ever did.

The first song rolled over them like an avalanche. Eddie and Erica were firm believers in hitting the crowd hard right away, hyping them up till their animal brains were thrumming and out for blood or whatever. It had taken Steve and Robin a while to get used to hard music, but it turned out that there was a lot of variance. The Coffins, as Steve liked to call them, had evolved immensely since their early garage days. More progressive, more melodic, a little doom here and there with clean and harsh vocals alternating during songs. Erica could come up with a blood-curdling scream you wouldn’t think possible upon laying eyes on her.

Steve was sweaty. He had heard this set a dozen times but I still loved it. It was the whole atmosphere. The second song was nearing its end, a quiet part building up into a mean breakdown and Steve received a thump to the shoulder from a tall, broad guy next to him. He looked over, fearing a mosh-pit forming around him - he would never be a fan of that, no thank you - but there just was someone trying to squeeze through to the front row. Steve hated it when the giants refused to let shorter people to the front and he patted the guy on the shoulder and gestured for him to be nice and take a step back.

‘Thank you,’ the newcomer mouthed at him and turned to the stage, eyes wide, sweat streaming from her forehead. She pressed her hands to her chest, mouth hanging open and Steve took a look at the stage, then back at her; her gaze was following Eddie around like he was a god she was here to worship.

“Oh my god!” she shouted into the small space of quiet before the breakdown hit. Steve couldn’t stop staring, this couldn’t be just any fan, right? She had slid her feet in between the bars of the metal barrier separating the crowd from the stage and pushed herself further up, face completely enraptured.

Eddie pushed over his mike stand - that happened all the time - and as the last notes faded out, he hooked one foot under it and flipped it up, catching it with his fret hand, grinning into the crowd as his little trick elicited cheers.

Steve was unsure now if it really was her. He had expected waving and shouting to make herself known but she almost looked petrified, frozen in place, unblinking.

“How are you doing?” Eddie asked and bathed in the rageing response. “Are you sweaty yet?”

Somewhere from the back, a woman shouted: I’m wet for you, Eddie!!!

“Fucking hell, careful at the back everybody, seems like we have a slipping hazard situation.” Eddie kicked at one of his effect pedals and scratched his nose with a grin as laughter and shouts weaved through the crowd. “Very flattering of you tho. Thank you.”

Steve kept glancing at the possible spouse, curious for a reaction.

He was sure he heard a chuckled “charming bastard” leave her mouth and gave Robin a nudge.

“Hey, Rob,” he said while Eddie kept talking to his crowd, “you see her? Yeah, I think she could be… you know.... the one.”

“You think?” Robin put her arm on his chest and pushed him back out of her line of sight. “Pretty.”

A fast rhythmic drum solo announced the next song, one of Steve’s favourites, and she started to move with it, arms raised into the air.

“Why do you think it’s her?” Robin shouted into his ear.

“Dunno, just… watch her watch him— Jesus...” Robin had pushed past him to change places, sending him into the chest of the guy behind him.

Things were wild. People moved with the charging beat of the drums, Erica cornering them with a slapping bass that made her fingers blur before she opened her mouth and screamed like something nightmarish, as Eddie and Jeff hit their strings like madmen.

Steve tried to let it go for a while and allowed himself to be carried away by the force of the sound. Having Robin as a shield helped too and it was three songs later when she reminded him about the matter.

“If that’s not her, I am going to shit. A. Brick.”

Steve prepared to yell a response, just as the flow on stage stumbled, deviating from the familiar sound of this song. Next came sharp reverb and Steve saw that Eddie’s mic-stand was down again. The band stopped as Eddie fumbled with his gear, the cord of the mic had looped around the stand and somehow, his ankle. He kept looking up, smiling like crazy, biting his lip, wiping the sweat out of his eyes with the back of a trembling hand and the no-longer mystery laughed, warm and adoring and totally and utterly smitten with Eddie.

“That’s her, right?” Jonathan said pressing against him and Robin to see something.

“Either that or Eddie is having a serious medical emergency right now,” Robin said.

“Not sure if both aren’t true— Jesus, Munson, just focus for a second.”

She turned, throwing a death stare at him that punched Steve right in the face. Robin and Jonathan waved at her making her frown while on stage, Erica finally had helped Eddie out of his turmoil and his amplified voice drew her attention away from them again.

Robin laughed. “Protective.”

“Sorry about that, folks.” Eddie joked. “Just had an out-of-body experience.” He pushed the mic away from his face, turned to her and mouthed a small "Hi" that was so sweet that Steve felt a little guilty.

“Let’s make sure to give one to every single one of you before you leave this place. Jeff, hit it!”

The rest of the show was a hot, blasting blur. Eddie was on fire and everything around him was catching. For all Steve knew, he had an audience of one and it almost felt surreal how an event with so many people could make him feel like he was intruding on an intimate moment between lovers.

Erica announced the last song and it left everyone breathless and exhausted. Nobody here looked more like a mess than her. It was almost obscene.

The band thanked the crowd while Jeff tormented his guitar with one last long distorted note and then people screamed their lungs out, already demanding an encore.

Eddie put down his guitar, smile wild and blazing and hopped off the stage. Everyone craned their necks as he crossed the small trench and slammed against the barrier into waiting arms. People around them lost it when Eddie took her face in his hands and slid his tongue down her throat without hesitation.

“Holy Shit!” Robin squeaked.

When Eddie finally drew away, he peppered her face with small kisses, muttering inaudible things that were only meant for her ears.

“I gotta go, I gotta go…” Eddie chanted, still coming back for another kiss again and again.

“Go!” she laughed and stopped him from keeping on by pressing her hands on his shoulders.

“One more… just one more, promise.”

“It’s never just one more, Gomez.”

Eddie nodded, turned, made two steps and then spun back around to steal one last kiss from her smiling mouth. He jogged back to the stage, pulled himself up and joined his delighted bandmates to go backstage.

“Excuse me,” Robin said, pushing the giant away like he wasn't three heads taller than her. “Coming through, thank you.”

Jonathan shrugged and followed Robin and so Steve did the same.

Robin said her name very carefully when she approached, but there was nothing hard on her face this time, Steve could only see sweet bliss in those eyes.

“I’m Robin, a friend of Eddie’s.”

“Oh!” she cheered and gave Robin a surprisingly enthusiastic hug. “Great to finally meet you.”

“I’m Jonathan, hi!”

“Ah, the genius with the black and white film. I need to talk to you sometime.”

Jonathan rubbed the back of his head and blushed. “Don’t know about genius, but thank you. And sure, anytime.”

 “You’re Steve, right?”

“Uhm,” he stammered, determined to not make a bad first impression, no matter his feelings. “Yeah, that’s right. Great to meet you.”

“Seen pictures of all of you but it’s not the best lighting in here and I was a little distracted…”

“We noticed,” Jonathan chuckled. “You liked the show?”

She shook her head like someone stuck in a dream, pressed her hands to her hot face and giggled. “Sorry, I feel kinda high. You probably think we’re insane… we know…”

“No, no!” Robin stopped her. “I think it’s pretty adorable.”

“Right! Eddie is a great guy, he deserves his sickly sweet romance,” Jonathan said with a pat to her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Steve added, not all the way there yet but less worried than before. It was hard to stay so sceptical in the face of such intense affection. “He really does.”

—

Eddie downed the contents of a small water bottle while quickly marching down the corridor that led out of the backstage area. He felt some spillage dripping down his chin and to his shirt which was already plenty sweaty. Shit, he was shaking.

This must have been the longest encore he had ever played and he felt a little twinge of guilt in the back of his head to leave the band with packing up their gear but he had to get his hands on you soon or he would probably combust. He’d been worried about different possible scenarios that caused your delay and his heart had almost leapt out of his chest when he finally saw your face in the first row.

It already was like ecstasy, every time he saw you, but seeing you cheer for him, dancing and lost in his music. Shit. He hadn’t lied when he had spoken about an out-of-body-experience.

The big double door in front of him opened and in walked Steve, then Robin and then Jonathan, talking to you. You had already found his people. A weird kind of gravitation was at work here and it pulled at his bones now.

“Sweetheart,” he called out, still too fucking far away.

Your head turned and your eyes widened when you saw him; would he ever get used to that?

“Eddie,” you sighed and he knew you were just as desperate as he was. You rushed past Steve and Robin, taking up speed as he stopped and opened his arms for you.

“C’mere!” he half laughed half groaned and welcomed the slight pain when you smashed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pressed his face into your hair that smelled like jasmine and sweat and you. “You’re here.”

“M’ s srry,” vibrated against his collarbone and he pulled back a little.

“What was that?”

“I’m so sorry I was so late I—“

Eddie cut you off with a kiss. He needed to taste you and you were here now so words could wait for a little longer. He felt a little tight in his pants and he held on to your face like in fear you could fucking float away. You were spoiling him, nipping at his lip, soothing the pain with a soft lick.

“Oh my fucking god, Eddie…” you whispered, forehead pressed against his and he answered with a soft moan. “I have no words right now, not sure if there are any… you… you’re… just…” You softly thumped your fists to his chest, straining to find something to say that matched your emotions.

“Just show me, hm? Show me how I make you feel?”

You nodded your head still cradled in his hands, eyes shining so bright and all for him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you kissed him again.

“You think we should leave?” Robin said approximately three galaxies away.

Eddie pulled himself off your lips with every ounce of willpower in his body. “My friends! We meet you at the bar in ten…” he looked back at you, grinning not taking his eyes off of you when he resumed speaking. “In twenty minutes.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

[storydays]

Welcome to Heaven P2

(3rd POV)

*In Heaven Meeting Room*

"Heavenly people, what more do you need to see?" Adam asked, as the court room watch Angel and Cherri take shots. "The porn star chose a night of debauchery. That's not a soul worthy of being in Heaven!" He exclaimed.

"Um, objection! Are you really telling me you've never had a drink with friends at the end of a hard day?" Charlie asked. 

"Uh, we don't have hard days. It's fuckin' Heaven, bitch. You seriously going to sit there and pretend like this behavior is okay? What do you think?" The yellow angel asked Vaggie as Charlie and (Y/N) growled lowly.

"I--I--I have to go to the bathroom." Vaggie stuttered before rushing off. "What, Vaggie, can't you hold it?" Charlie hissed after her.

"Angel will make good decisions! We have to keep watching! Please." (Y/N) pleaded. Sera sighed heavily before turning to Emily. "Yeah, I don't know." "Yeah, let's give him a chance." The younger Seraphim replied. 

"Very well; the court will allow it." "Fuck, yes!" Charlie cheered, fist pumping herself. (Y/N) noticed the looks she was receiving and elbowed Charlie who quickly corrected herself. "I mean, heh, thank you."

*In Consent Club*

Angel tossed his head back as  Cherri approached with more in her hands. "Round 12, mother fuckers! Heels are comin' off!" "Haha! Yeah, keep 'em comin'!" laughed the spider, reaching for another. "Come on, right here, right to Daddy." He giggled. "Oh, it is wonderful to have friends!" Sir Pentious cackled, tossing his head back, enjoying the sting of the alcohol. 

"Everything's spinny, hehe." Niffty giggled, reaching for a little more. "Ha ha! I think you're done, tiny." Angel took the shot from her, giving it to Husk who downed two shots at the same time. "No! Gimmie gimmie gimmie!" Niffty whined, reaching for the glass. 

"Oh, come on, bitch, she can handle a little more!" Cherri scowled. "She's like ten pounds soaking wet, and--" Angel defended before noticing the cyclops maid was gone. 

"Oh, shit. Where'd she go?"

Niffty ignored the angry yells as she cleaned up group of men's table. "Dirty, dirty, make it clean." Niffty said manically. 

"Dammit, Niffty. Sorry fellas, here, next one's on me." Angel threw a wad of cash at the men, rolling his eyes at how they fought over it.

"Niffty? Shit!" Angel cursed, seeing the redhead raiding the cleaning closet. "Chlorine....Bleach...." 

Angel went to stop her, when Cherri stopped him in his path, with her hands on her hip. "Angie, the fuck are you doing? You're supposed to be relaxing, not playing nanny." 

"Look, she ain't used to this scene. I-I just don't want her to end up in the gutter like I used to." Angel protested. 

"Pfft, whatever, nerd. Just catch up when you're done." The pink haired Cyclops walked away and Angel snatched Niffty up. "Stop! You can't take that! God Niff, why are you bein' such a mess?!" He snapped. 

"I-I'm the mess?" Niffty started bawling loudly. "Oh, oh shit! Hey, hey, hey...calm down, ya ain't a mess. It's fine, ssshhhh, hey, you wanna play with the kitty?" Angel panicked, before using his second pair of hands to rub soothing circles on Niffty's back and in her hair. 

"Yeah." whined Niffty. 

"The fuck is this?" Husk demanded as Niffty climbed all over him, and started pulling at his ears and eyebrows. "She's wasted." Angel deadpanned before smiling. "Just go with it." 

"Re-really?! Ugh, get the--" He sighed, accepting his fate as Niffty started pulling on his wings. 

"Ahh, hey, wow!" Pentious, who was clearly drunk, slid over to where Cherri was sitting boredly. "Hey, so, I see the club has a sex room. So I was thinking, maybe you'd want to uhm, do a sex with me?" He asked awkwardly. 

Cherri snorted, suddenly interested. "I'm sorry, why would we have sex?" "Uh, uh, um.. because I'm having sex with everyone here!" He exclaimed loudly, yelping when a group of demons dragged him into a room. "Get in here."

Cherri shook her head, before perking up seeing Angel approach with Husk and Niffty behind him. "You know, we can do this fucking shit every fucking night! You don't have to spend all of your off hours, 'working on yourself,' you little bitch."She grinned, ignoring Angel's raised eyebrow. 

"The hotel isn't a problem in his life, it's--" Husk defended before trailing off. "Valentino." Angel muttered darkly, looking off to the side. 

"Exactly. So why don't you---"

"No. Valentino." Angel's voice wobbled as he pointed at the moth sitting with two other demoness's. "Yeah, I'm here all the time, they know me. You're gorgeous...do you need a job? How many dicks can you suck? Ooh, I could make you a star..." Valentino continued to talk as Angel started shaking in fear. 

"L-Let's get the fuck outta here, ok? Come on.---" He started to walk out when he realized something. Sparing a glance at Val over his shoulder, he quickly took notice of who was missing. "Where's Niffty?" "...Porn star. Okay, yup, bring me another drink or I'll fucking kill you." Val's voice carried over the party noise as Niffty ran over to him, giggling, "Bad boy. Hehehehe."

Angel, despite his fear, ran after her, muttering under his breath as he pushed through the crowd. "Excuse me. Pardon me. Get out of my way."

He quickly caught Niffty, just as she was approaching Valentino. "Holy shit, Angel Dust? What are you doing here, baby?" cooed the moth. "I'm surprised to see you not riding the prince's dick." he mocked, making a dick gesture. 

"Funny." Angel rolled his eyes. "Who's this chiquita? You bringing me fresh meat?" Val asked, leaning closer to eye Niffty. 

Niffty tried to bite him. 

"Oi!" exclaimed Valentino, leaning back in his seat, allowing the two demoness's to lean back against him.

"I just want a taste." Niffty growled with a grin. "Ehh, weird, but there's a kink for that I'm sure." shrugged the pimp. 

"Fuck off, Val." Hissed Angel, standing up, holding Niffty close. "Excuse me?" Val narrowed his eyes. 

"I said, fuck off. I put up with your bullshit for the longest time, and I will never let you get your claws into my friends." 

"You forget who you're talking to, slut?" "No, I know exactly who I'm talking to: An insecure piece of shit, who makes himself feel better beating up and taking advantage of vulnerable people and who is incapable of feeling anything other than greed, you , twisted, heartless son of a bitch." Val growled lowly, making a smoke chain appear, and he went to raise a hand to hit the spider, when suddenly a (f/c) chain pulled him to his knees, to be face to face with a shadow version of the prince. 

" Did you forget our deal, Valentino?" cooed the Shadow Prince, tail lazily swinging behind him. The pimp gulped nervously.

"Ugh, n-no, never." stuttered the moth, as the shadow version of (Y/N) narrowed his red eyes before pulling the moth close to him, effectively gagging him. Angel, Niffty, and Husk watched with wide eyes.

"Hm. So you weren't about to put your hands on Angel? You're saying I'm lying?" 

"No, Príncipe. Angel and I were just having a---" He choked when the shadow pulled harshly, before turning to the crowd. "Who here had seen Valentino raise his hand to Angel?" He called, raising an eyebrow at the many hands that had went up. 

The moth was shaking from where he was kneeling as he realized his mistake.

" Niffty, dear."  The shadow nodded his head, and Niffty snatched some fluff off of Val's neck. "Ow! What the fuck?!" He exclaimed. "For my collection, hehe." 

"I think, Valentino, I let you off too easy last time. Until I return from my meeting, you are going back to the...playroom. And if you think last time was horrifying.." The shadow laughed darkly, watching as the horror spread across Valentino's face. "Just wait, motherfucker. Just wait." And with the both Valentino and the shadow disappeared, with the shadow prince's laughter echoing through the club.

"Fuck, that was kind of hot." Angel sighed, thinking of his fiance. "Good job, kid." Husk smiled, patting Angel on the back as they finally walked back to Cherri. "Uh, Niffty, what's the fluff for?" Husk asked. "For my collection, hehehe." She chuckled.

"Did you just call these cunts your friends? Thought that was my job." She chuckled, looking proud of Angel. "There's room for everyone, and ya know, you could come crash with us too." Angel smiled. 

"Okay, look Angie, I'm glad this hotel shit is workin' for ya. But you know me, bitch. I'm doin' just fine. In fact, I'm gonna fuck the next guy I see, okay?" Cherri chuckled, starting to walk away before turning back to him with a soft smile, "But, if you need me, you know where to find me, yeah?"

She walked away, just as Pentious approached, panting heavily. "Is Cherri still here?" 

Angel and Husk both pointed at Cherri as she walked hand in hand with a random demon into a sex room. "Dammit!" He exclaimed. 

*Back in the Heaven courtroom*

"See! He did everything on your checklist! He was selfless, he stopped Niffty from stealing, and he stuck it to that moth man!" Charlie exclaimed proudly. 

"Uhh, well, uh...then, then why isn't he here then? Hm?" Ace demanded. "Yeah, why isn't he here?" Emily asked Sera who looked away. 

The court room started muttering uneasily. "Wait, none of you know what gets someone into Heaven?" (Y/N) spoke up, glaring as Sera spoke up. 

"This questioning stops now. We know when a soul arrives, we know when they pass divine judgement. It is our job to ensure these souls are safe." Sera said firmly, as Emily looked at Adam;s list, confusion on her face. 

Charlie stared in horror as Vaggie was revealed to be an exorcist angel, while (Y/N) watched the teal angel known as Ash carefully. He'd heard that singing voice from somewhere, but where...?

"I'm sorry, but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed." Sera spoke firmly.

"Oh, fuck yes! I win. Suck it bitches!" 

Vaggie and Charlie backed up, as (Y/N) stood in front of them, sword in his hand, ready to defend, as the angels approached.

"You better save the date, cunts." Adam smirked as Lute and Ash appeared over him, giving him an even more sinister look. Ash took his mask and hood off to reveal.....

"Archer?" 

(Y/N)'s voice cracked, seeing his ex alive and grinning evilly at him. "Uh, the name is Ash. And we're coming to your hotel, first!" 

With a snap of his fingers, Adam opened a portal that started to suck the three into it. "What? No,no, you can't--" "Oh, you mother--" Vaggie and Charlie both protested as they were sucked in. (Y/N) remained silent as he held eye contact with Arc--Ash who grinned darkly and flicked him off, before the portal closed in the prince's face. "Charlie! Don't give up on this! I'll figure something out, I promise!" Emily called.

"That was uncalled for, Adam." Sera scolded. 

"Yeah, but did you see the looks on their fucking faces? It was... Ahem. Sorry." He cleared his throat before flying over to Lute and Ash, who had a quizzical look on his face. "Hey, what gives, asshat?" He asked the teal angel. 

"The prince. He called me Archer...and I never notice 'til now, but he looks awfully familiar." Ash hummed, missing the looks the other two exorcists shared. 

"Ah, don't worry your pretty little head about it, babe. Probably some demon shit." Adam shrugged, flying off, Lute following. "Yeah, you're probably right." shrugged the fox angel before flying off as well. 

"Extermination, of human souls. Demon or not, there is no reason to be doing this." Emily snapped. 

"They were uprising, Emily." Sera said, eyes glowing slightly in tune with her feelings, "It is my position as the Head Seraphim to protect our people at all costs, and it's your position to keep them happy and joyful. "

"How can I bring joy when I now know we are bringing misery to thousands of innocent people?" Whimpered Emily.

"Heaven needs us, Emily. Everyone looks to us and we can't doubt ourselves or worry about the fates of demons when we have our own souls to protect. Please, if you start to question, you could end up like Lucifer: fallen. I couldn't bear to see you suffer that fate. So please, let me worry about this, okay?" She pressed a kiss to Emily's head, "I'm sorry." 

*Back in Hell*

(Y/N), Vaggie and Charlie collapsed on the hotel's floor, startling the rest of the hotel members from where they were lounging on the couches waiting for their return. 

"Sooo, how'd it go?" Angel asked, going over to hug (Y/N) when he noticed the haunted look in his eyes. "Sweetcheeks?" He asked, kneeling in front of his lover, grunting softly when (Y/N) hugged him tightly, hyperventilating and sobbing. Angel's arms wrapped around him and he stood up, holding him close. 

Without sparing a look to anyone, Angel quickly ran to their shared room and slammed the door, leaning against it, as he rocked (Y/N) back and forth, waiting for him to stop crying. 

Eventually, the harsh sobs quited down to an occasional sniffle, but he continued to cling to Angel.

"Bambino, let's take a quick shower, get in our pjs, and then we can cuddle in bed. We don't have to talk--" 

"No." replied the prince, voice heavy with emotion. 

"Okay, what do you need from me?" 

"Fuck me." 

Angel's eyes widen as he looked down at (Y/N) who refused to look at him. "What?" 

"Fuck me. I want you to fuck me, I don't want to remember anyone's love but yours. Please. We can shower and stuff after, but please...help me forget." He pleaded, wrapping his tail around the spider's waist. 

"Bambino, I won't fuck you." 

The prince started to protest when Angel ran a hand through his hair, "But I will make love to you. I love you too much to hurt you."  "I love you too. I love you so much." (Y/N) whimpered before being pulled into loving arms.

#storydays #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #viziepop #hazbin angel dust #x male reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin valentino #princemorningstar

[hey-august]

I know I'm pathetic - Pt 6

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Fic tag)

✨The final part!!✨ I just added a warning for implied sex since I did a last minute adjustment. I hope yall had fun reading this throughout the week! ��� And for those who prefer to read everything in one-go, enjoy!!

WC: ~550

Warnings for the entire story: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, not an established relationship, dubcon, auralism, masturbation, buggy is a fucking perv, slight degradation kink, implied sex

Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @lostfirefly @ane5e @fanaticsnail

Title from Pathetic by blink-182

“Captain…”

Shit. He definitely didn’t imagine it. This was a problem. Did you know? Were you messing with him? He needed to find out.

Buggy flew out of his room before reigning himself in. There were plenty of people still awake and he didn’t want to drag attention to himself. He strode to the bathroom, unsure what he would do when he got there. What he would say to you. What he would ask.

It didn’t matter though. By the time he got to the bathroom, it was empty. You were gone. All that was left was steam and a message on the mirror.

“I’m waiting for you.”

Was this message really for him? Were you actually waiting for him? Why? Was it a trick? Buggy’s mind was reeling, torn between the fucked up fantasies he’s been indulging in and what little grasp on reality he still had.

An unexpected sensation pulled him from the cyclone of thoughts. A warm breath on his ear. His ear…where was it? It wasn’t in the bathroom anymore.

Lips grazed his missing appendage and he shuddered.

“Captain? Did you find my message yet?”

Buggy's breath stopped in his chest as you whispered directly to him.

“I know your secret,” you teased. “I know what you’ve been doing, you perv. You’re a dirty guy, you know?”

He whimpered.

“Wanna know my secret?”

“Yes,” Buggy gasped to no one.

“I bet you do…my secret is that I like it. I like knowing that you touch yourself to me, captain.”

Buggy’s hand flew to his aching dick. If you liked it, he’d keep doing it.

“You’re probably touching yourself right now, you creep.”

He whimpered again.

“Would you stop if I told you to?”

He stopped.

“Would you screw me if I asked you to? I think I’d like that a lot more.”

Buggy’s legs moved before you finished that question.

“Please don’t keep me waiting too lon-”

You were interrupted by a frantic knocking and a breathless demand to open the fucking door.

---

Your sheets were soaked with sex and sweat by the time you two were drained and exhausted.

Buggy wasn’t sure if he was falling asleep or blacking out. His back was pressed against your chest and you were warm. So very warm.

“How’d you find out?” Buggy mumbled through the edges of sleep.

“Your boots are loud.”

Right. He knew that. He should have known it was a give away.

“I also had your ear on purpose.”

Now he was awake. Before Buggy could roll over, you held him tighter.

“Accidentally on purpose,” you laughed. “I found it earlier that day and put it in my pocket. I forgot and only remembered when I heard you outside my door. By then, it was too late.”

“Too late…”

“Well, I might have stopped if you knocked. But it sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Silence hung in the room as the words sunk in.

“You tricked me into listening to your- your debauchery, just so you could get off!" Buggy’s hands broke free and gestured wildly in the air. “You’re the pervert! You corrupted me,” he huffed offendedly. Provokingly.

“You were always a dirty freak, captain. Don’t be a liar too,” you said against his ear before giving it a small bite.

Buggy groaned softly through the smile on his face. He was a dirty freak. A depraved degenerate. A pathetic pervert. And so were you.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #hey-august i know i'm pathetic