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pierregazly · 2 months

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tying you to me ꨄ max verstappen

max verstappen x reader

warnings: sweet max, random coincidences to lovers trope, happy ending [wc: 4.3k]

[4 times] in which something coincidentally led back to max, and the [1 time] it turned out nothing was just a coincidence (in which everything has always tied max to you).

Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see?

It felt like a never-ending nightmare.

One thing after another, one bad day after another, one bad week after the next. It felt like it was never going to end.

The person that was supposed to be that person, the man that was supposed to be forever, the person that was going to be standing at the end of the aisle... leaving with a simple apology and a ‘I’m sorry, it’s me, not you’... it was incomprehensible.

It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around what had gone wrong. Was he telling the truth? Was it really him? Or was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the blunder? The inevitable demise?

Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you, it was so evident it wasn’t meant to be. Nothing connected to him, there were no signs pointing to him being the one, there was no inevitable connection. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the internal heartbreak that felt like it was never going to end.

All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling, that pulled you to another person, that proved they were the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know that it was so obvious, he just wasn’t that person.

The coffee shop you currently sat in had become a morning staple after the last few weeks. After coming back to Monaco for a much-needed reprieve from the rest of the world, the little coffee shop nestled into the charming walls of Monte-Carlo had become a necessary distraction to the outside.

The employees all knew you by name now, often passing by the table and inquiring about your day, inquiring about the book you were reading, or the work assignment shown on your computer screen. Always engaging in polite conversation back, it was one of your favourite places to be.

People-watching was the only negative of it. The loving couples who passed through, all cuddled up together as they ordered their drinks for their walk throughout the city, the older couples who sat just tables away and reminisced on their lives together. It was the only thing that drove you crazy about the charming little shop.

Watching them occupied your thoughts more time’s than you cared to admit. Daydreaming and losing focus on the outside world was a commonality, especially in the little coffee shop.

It was exactly where you found yourself currently, your eye’s peering to the left as you watched an older man place his hand over who you assumed to be his wife’s hand. Their wedding bands shining brightly in the Monaco sun, soft smiles on their faces as they peered at one another, your heart begging to be let out of this turmoil, begging you to turn away and focus on something else, anything else.

Its wish was granted when you felt the cold of a drink begin to sink into your shirt, instantly soaking your skin, a gasp of shock falling from your lips.

“Oh god, I am so sorry. I just turned around and you were right there, let me grab some cloths, please.”

You knew instantly it was your own fault, you hadn’t been paying attention, more focused on the elderly couple, prompting the person in front of you to spill their... was that Red Bull? On your shirt?

“Is this Red Bull?”

The man in front of you grimaced as he handed you the dry cloths, a small smile falling across his lips while his eyes crinkled with the movement of his face. A bit of a cute look, you thought to yourself while beginning to dab at your shirt as the smell of the energy drink wafted up your nose.

“Yes, I’m so sorry. I don’t drink coffee often, but my sister wanted to stop here because she had heard good things, I was just waiting for her drink while she took a quick call outside. I really only drink Red Bull in public when I have to, or when I’m getting paid to. I thought it was her behind me when I whipped around like that, I’m so sorry. Please, can I buy you a coffee as an apology? Or a tea?”

You weren’t entirely sure if the rambling was out of nerves that you were going to overreact over the spilt drink, or if he just simply felt like he owed it to you to explain the entire incident and how it came about in full description.

The frustration that was brewing was not at all a fault of the cute man in front of you, but an accumulation of days of sadness, an irregular appetite, and just a combination of heartbreak.

Trying to keep the tears of frustration at bay, you instantly shook your head towards the cute man in front of you. “Thank you, but no. Obviously this is a sign I need to go home, sorry for spilling your drink.”

Before he could get the chance to say anything back, you were forcing yourself to rush out of the coffee shop before an outburst could erupt from inside of you. You hadn’t even noticed the look of intrigue that the Dutchman gave you.

Bad was the blood of the song in the cab On your first trip to LA You ate at my favorite spot for dinner

The memory of the handsome Dutchman in the small coffee shop left your mind not long before the happy memories of your ex-boyfriend finally forced themselves out of your head. Things had finally begun looking up, the more time you spent with your friends, the more time you spent focusing on work and the hopeful promotion that would come with it.

Although, your boss had insisted you take a few weeks off, citing the fact you were there more than anyone she knew, and that burnout was inevitable if you didn’t take the much deserved and obligated time off. The amount of overtime and banked hours allowing you to take the time off with full pay just made it easier to agree.

Which was exactly how you found yourself just south of Zurich, the snow whipping past your face as the ski lift ascended higher and higher up the mountain. Your friends giggled beside you, smiles lighting up everyone’s faces.

Winter break, although cold and snowy, was always a fan favourite amongst your friend group. It was exhilarating, you hadn’t had the chance to attend the annual ski trip while you were with your ex-boyfriend, he hated skiing and anything including winter sports.

It’s what made the trip even better, getting the chance to catch up with your friends and their partners, the chance to laugh, and drink, and just smile again. It was all worth it.

The group of guys in the ski lift behind obviously had the same idea, hooting and hollering at each other as the ski lift continued its ascent. You couldn’t decipher what they were saying, the words in a different language, but the name ‘Max’ seemed to be a commonality. Maybe someone was missing their dog while on vacation? Who knows.

After hours of skiing, the alcohol in the ski lodge was flowing. The laughter and happiness from every group was prevalent, everyone there was so obviously happy to get away from the real world. It’s what places like that were for.

“That guy over there can’t stop looking at you,” jostled out of your thoughts by one of your friends, you followed her head inclination to one of the tables a few rows down, a familiar face looking back at you inquisitorially.

It took you a second to place his face, the day in the coffee shop floating back to your mind prompting a small laugh to fall from your lips.

“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull all over me when I ran into him in the coffee shop in Monaco, remember?”

It had been a running joke, a typical meet-cute in a coffee shop, but instead of spilt coffee... a spilt Red Bull.

“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull on you?”

One of your friend’s boyfriends gaped at you, as he continuously maneuvered his look between you and the man in question. Nodding your head, he continued to gape at you.

“Don’t you know who that is?” Giving him a look, you shook your head.

“That’s the Max Verstappen. Three-time Formula 1 World Champion? Dutch God? Second-coming of the Formula 1 Jesus?”

You recognized the name, having heard it at the few races you had attended, but you never would’ve been able to place the name to the face otherwise.

A laugh erupted from one of the other members of the group, a shove directed at the other man. “I think you've got Verstappen mixed up with Lewis Hamilton.”

“He’s kinda cute, huh?” One of the girls pointed out to you, a small giggle falling from her lips as she looked over towards the man in question, his eyes meeting yours as you looked in his direction again.

His hair was flopped over, obviously a combination of a long day wearing a ski helmet and a hat, mixed with the combination of the sweat and heat that engulfed the inside of the lodge made him look even more attractive. Windswept, tipsy, and overall, just happy.

“So much better than that last loser.” A mutual agreement of ‘yes’, ‘obviously’, and ‘fucking no wonder’, floated throughout your group at your friend’s words.

Shrugging them off, you just laughed and pushed the conversation in another direction and away from the man sitting across the room, who seemed as if he couldn’t take his eyes off you at all.

As the night started to dwindle down, you bid goodnight to the remaining group of friends and started your route back to your room.

“At least I have nothing to spill on you tonight.”

Directing your gaze to the voice at hand, your eyes made direct contact with the blue irises of Max Verstappen.

Quirking an eyebrow at him as a small laugh left your lips, “I’m sure the bars fully stocked with drinks you could spill on me. You’re just not trying hard enough.”

A loud guffaw fell from the man’s mouth, his hands instinctively covering his mouth as he laughed. You couldn’t help the heat that grew on your cheeks at his reaction, his smile directed towards you when he finally moved his hands from his face.

“I’m so very sorry. Next time I run into you, I’ll try to make sure I have a full drink in hand to spill on you.”

“Oh, you plan on running into me again?”

Shrugging his shoulders with a small grin, the Dutchman just laughed. “Well, I ran into the person I spilt a Red Bull in a coffee shop on in one of my favourite places in Switzerland, I’m sure I’m bound to run into you again. Things happen in three’s, don’t they?”

Max ran a hand through his hair as he smiled at you, before either of you could get the chance to say anything else, one of his friends was clapping a hand against his shoulder with a boisterous laugh.

“Time to get out of here, mate. Say goodnight to the pretty girl,” he said.

You felt your cheeks heating again, as Max smiled at you in farewell, a small wave from both of you any indication of goodbye as you both walked away.

Time, mystical time Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine Were there clues I didn't see?

F1 race weekends were as fun as they were busy. Any race you had attended since you were an intern was always focused primarily on working. Getting the opportunity to attend a race with your friends, in Melbourne, without having to worry about work or advertising, or anything else, was obviously the best way to spend it.

Lou, one of your friends linked her arm with yours as she basically skipped through the hospitality area, pointing out the different garages as she got a glimpse of them. Her boyfriend, Nick, had gotten both of you passes through his own work, a long-term employee of McLaren meant that the both of you had been spoiled for the weekend.

"Maybe you’ll end up running into Max again, imagine? A third little meet-cute,” she said, with a giggle.

Rolling your eyes at her, you just laughed as she grinned back. “Don’t roll your eyes at me! It’s totally possible, I’m sure Nick could totally convince Lando to convince Max to pass by the garage or the hospitality. We could totally orchestrate it.”

“Babe, it’s pure coincidence I’ve run into the guy more than once. I’m not like... going out of my way to run into Max Verstappen.”

Huffing back at you, Lou sent a mock pout in your direction as she continued to drag you through the hospitality center. Passing a stand full of travel cups of coffee, you were eager to grab one as you walked by.

Before you could even press the lid of the cup to your lips, you were interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice, yet again.

“Is it your turn to spill something on me, then? I’m having a pretty bad day, and I don’t know if I can handle that.”

Both you and Lou whipped around to the sound of the man’s voice, the man who just a short time ago had been forced to retire his race due to a faulty and on fire brake. You could practically feel Lou humming with excitement as she looked between you and Max.

Shoving her hand out in his direction, Lou introduced herself to Max who did the same back.

“With that, I’m going to see how everything’s going in the garage. Call me if you get lost, yeah?” Without giving you the chance to argue, she bolted away.

Silently groaning, you looked back towards Max. For someone who just retired from a race he was probably going to win, he seemed relatively calm and relaxed.

“So, are you?”

“Am I what?” You questioned back, confused.

“Are you going to spill your coffee on me, in retaliation for the Red Bull?” Instantly shaking your head, obviously the retirement from the race couldn’t have affected him too negatively, if he was already cracking jokes in your direction.

“You don’t even know my name, and you’re accusing me of wanting to go out of my way to kick a man when he’s already down?”

Watching his face fall, you could tell he was about to defend his words. A smile began to cross your face, his eyes jokingly narrowing in your direction.

Sticking your hand out towards him, you finally introduced yourself, your name falling from his lips as if it was a beautiful word from a testament as he took your hand. It would be embarrassing to say a small spark shot up your arm, but the racing driver had inevitably shocked you, an apology dropping from his lips almost immediately.

“Terrible race to stalk me at, though. You couldn’t have at least made it a race that I actually stood a chance at winning? Pretty embarrassing to have to retire for such a stupid reason, in front of such a pretty girl.”

If there was one thing other than racing that Max was good at, it was making your cheeks warm and the butterflies in your stomach spike.

“Well... I am here as a guest of McLaren... maybe I was just really hoping for a Piastri win. Gotta root for the hometown boy, right?”

Shaking his head, Max mockingly pressed his hand to his chest and looked at you like he was internally wounded.

“You’d support McLaren over me? The man who runs into you in the weirdest of places? Who gave you a free Red Bull without a can?” he said.

You could barely help the small snort that fell from your lips at his words, your hand instantly slapping against your lips in horror. Max openly laughed at your reaction, arm gently hitting your shoulder with a grin.

“Just for that, I’ll support Ferrari before I support you and your Red Bull’s. I don’t think Charles Leclerc would spill a Red Bull on me.”

In response, Max grinned and pointed in the direction of the Ferrari garage, the red and yellow prominent amongst the stone. “Shall I go introduce you to Charles, then? He’d probably spill an actual hot coffee on you, at least I didn’t leave any lasting damage.”

“The trauma of smelling like an original Red Bull for more than 2 hours isn’t enough damage?” you questioned, your eyebrows quirking up at him.

Max looked at you in horror, “You can’t possibly be saying you don’t think the smell of an original, cold, fresh out of a fridge, Red Bull isn’t just simply lovely. This is potentially the biggest red flag about you.”

You were quick on your feet, the words dropping from your lips before you could contain them.

“I guess we’re all on fire today, then. Red flags left and right.” you said with a smirk.

All Max did was laugh at your words, his head rolling back while his hands placed themselves on his hips.

Just as he had been the last two times, Max was interrupted before he could continue the conversation, a lady in a Red Bull sweater tapping him on the shoulder to let him know he needed to make his way back to the garage for some interviews that had been requested of him.

“Nice seeing you again, I’m sure next time I see you, you’ll probably heal more of my Red Bull soaked shirt trauma.”

The only response he gave was a loud laugh and a wave, as he walked away.

Time, wondrous time Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies

The FIA year-end Gala was exquisite. Everyone was dressed to the nines, the lights were twinking, the service was lovely, and the atmopshere was electric.

Even though, for almost all of the people there, it was a requirement of their jobs, everyone seemed as if they were having a wonderful time. Mingling with those around them, actively engaging in conversation with co-workers, friends, long-time acquaintances.

Your boss had elected that you and a fellow co-worker attend in her place, admitting that although she loved the excitement of the night, she needed a break from the glitz and the glam of Formula 1 for a tiny bit. She knew you were more than willing to take her place and do an incredible job.

Which is exactly how you found yourself at a table with Jack, one of your co-workers, a wide grin on his face as he observed everything going on around him. He was new to the company, just having recently completed his internship and been offered a full-time position with the organization. It was his first time at a Formula 1 event of any kind.

“Isn’t this brilliant? I’m a huge motorsports fan, I wanted to get into karting when I was a kid but it was just too expensive, my parents couldn’t afford that. I’ve never even had the opportunity to go to a race, and now I’m in the same building, the same room as literal race drivers. Have you been to a race before?”

You forgot how much he could yap, an almost over-eager human equivalent of an excited golden retriever. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer to his question.

“I’ve been to a few races for work, and a few privately with some friends. They’re always a great time, you’ll have lots of fun when you start going for work.” you said.

Grinning at your words, you began to tune him out as he launched into another rant. You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of someone saying your name, your head swiveling in the direction of the voice.

You were almost positive Jack was squealing out loud, as Max Verstappen once again entered your view. Smiling up at him, you stood up to greet the Dutchman, which resulted in him pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, his hand gently patting you on the back as he did so.

“I just wanted to come by and say hello. You look very beautiful.”

Unable to contain the anxious laugh that fell from your lips, you immediately smiled at him. Accepting compliments was obviously not your forte, especially when they were coming from Max, who looked more handsome than ever in his suit, and the wide smile on his cheeks pulling everything together.

“Never thought I’d see you in anything other than jeans and a Red Bull shirt, Max. You look lovely, as well.”

“Making fun of me, and a compliment all in one? I will say, I probably would’ve worn jeans if I could, but my public relations manager likely would’ve murdered me and I quite enjoy being alive,” he said.

Shaking your head in silent laughter, you barely even noticed as Jack thrust his hand out to introduce himself to Max.

“Your girlfriend is lovely, mate. This is what, the fourth time I’ve run into you?” Max said in greeting, a somewhat tight smile on his face.

Jack instantly shook his head, “Oh god no, we’re co-workers. I don’t mean she’s not lovely, she is. I’m not her type, or actually she’s not my type. I’m yapping, this is embarrassing. Mr. Verstappen, it was really nice to meet you. I need a drink. I’m sorry.”

He practically sprinted away, both you and Max looked on with amused grins present on your faces.

“So, if he’s not your boyfriend, does that mean one of the guys you were with in Switzerland are?”

Shaking your head, “God, no. Those are friends I’ve known for years. I’m very much single, right now.”

Max looked like he was in complete contemplation as he debated what to say next. You were secretly hoping he would take the bait, maybe ask if you were free after the gala, or ask how long you were going to be in town for.

Running into him again once was by chance, twice was a coincidence, and thrice was obviously a sign. The universe was obviously trying to tell you something, there was a reason this man, who had first shown up in your life just after one of the worst heartbreaks you had ever experienced, continued to show up. It was hard to not get your hopes up, to not get ahead of yourself.

It was hard to keep the butterflies at bay, truthfully.

“Hypothetically, does that mean you’re free after the gala?”

“Hypothetically... I man be free after the gala,” you responded.

Nodding his head, Max smiled in your direction. “I think it would be a crime to let this beautiful dress, and my efforts to wear a suit for something go to waste. I’d love to take you out after.”

And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Max had been transparent from the beginning; he wasn’t overly affection nor was he a fan of excessive cuddling. He got warm often, and the moment he got too warm when he was in bed, he got miserable. But when he wanted to cuddle? You had to take what he would give you.

Which was exactly how you found yourselves right now, Max playfully attempting to whack your phone out of your hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist as he burrowed his head into your neck.

“Schatje, I just wanna cuddle for a bit. Give me a little attention.”

Slapping gently at his arm, you looked at him in mock exasperation. All you ever did was give him attention, he almost took the words out of your mouth when he muttered, “I know you give me plenty of attention, don’t yell at me.”

You just shook your head silently as you used your free hand to gently twirl small tuffs of his hair, a small hum of content falling from his lips at your movements.

“What are you looking at?”

Attempting to look over at your phone, you moved the screen so he could see it better. It was a video from your first ever Formula 1 race, back when you were still a little intern and your boss had wanted you to gain some exposure to the sport.

“I’m just looking back at some videos. Found this one from my first ever race. I didn’t even know I still had this.”

Max instantly perked up and looked at your phone, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher something in the video.

“Do you remember which race it was? Looks like it’s a few years old, yeah?”

Nodding your head, you tried to do the math in your head, thinking back to what year you first started your internship. “I think it was 2016? It was definitely in Spain, but I’m pretty positive it was 2016.”

“Do you know what that means?” Max questioned, a soft smile on his lips as he pressed a small kiss to the junction between your chin and throat before looking back up at you.

Shaking your head in confusion, you tried to determine what he could be talking about, giving him the chance to continue.

“My first ever win in Formula 1, for Red Bull, was the 2016 Spanish Grand Prix. Isn’t that so ironic? Guess things were always meant to be.”

Maybe he was right.

Maybe there was always a string, a small, invisible string, tying everything together, tying you to him.

genuinely i got this into my mind and felt like i was legally obligated to write it asap. i hope you LOVE it and i would so appreciate it if you told me if you do. thank you, love you all 🫶🏻

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 one shot #max verstappen one shot #writing #f1 #f1 x you #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 writing #max verstappen writing

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wifeofasith · 3 months

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Loved inside and out ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

ׁ ֶָ֢ ⏤͟͟͞͞☕️ ׁ ࣭ warnings ! ۪ ׁ ⊹ || Dom!Anakin × Sub!Fem!Reader, cockwarming, brief pinv sex, creampie (mentioned), pet names MDNI !!

Not bothering whatever Obi-wan was so immensely discussing with Ani was practically impossible when your head was swarming with tingling thoughts about your unsuccessful day. Feeling miserable, you didn’t even try to participate in the ardent conversation the two Jedi had. Your only resolve turned out to be to linger around, trying to gain Anakin’s precious attention, which you were so desperate for.

“What’s gotten you so dull?” Your grand-master’s voice pulls you out of your head, making your eyes settle on his humble white robes. “You’re traipsing around like a youngling.”

Feeling embarrassed about the comment, you glimpse at Anakin, expecting to be defended from Obi-wan’s sharp eye, but instead you are greeted with another curious stare as his arms cross over his chest.

"Just a bad day.” You mutter, struggling to define the intense feeling of weariness you woke up with.

Not pleased enough with the description, they glance at each other concisely, as if sizing up your negativity. Anakin’s arms drop lower with a sigh.

“How about another session to put your mind off things?” He insists, making you wonder what kind of session he was talking about while hoping Obi-wan’s imagination only darts to the possibility of you dueling with Anakin instead of anything wicked.

"Go; I’ll finish on my own.” Your master’s master nods approvingly towards Anakin, reassuring you two about his oblivion to what happens in your little nests when his prying gaze is elsewhere.

Anakin’s eyes gleam briefly before he tilts his head upwards towards you, encouraging you to move alongside him.

“What’s wrong?” A soft voice reaches your ears as you two are far enough. “What bothers your pretty little head?” He speaks gently, but his eyes still stare forward, careful not to drop the cloak you two were wearing.

“It’s nothing, really…” You pause, but unable to come up with a better excuse, you shortly continue. “I’m just blue.”

—

“It’s okay. It’s okay, my angel.” Anakin coos, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear as his chest presses against your back, firm arm grabbing you closer. “I’ve got you now.”

In the safety of your own quarters and Anakin’s embrace, you felt completely tranquil, even with your panties pulled to the side and the gentle nudge of his cock brushing against your entrance. His tight grip enveloped you perfectly, filling your heart with comfort, opening an escape from the dullness of your routine.

“You’re so precious, always need my cock to soothe you.” He coos, nudging your slit with a wet tip, eager to fuck into your guts.

“Mmm…” You nod silently, not wanting to be bullied about it.

Anakin’s lips gently touch your cheek as if to reassure you that he’s there to ease your mind instead of making fun of your disheveled mental state. He props himself up on his forearm, leaning over you slightly to reach the plum of your lips as he slowly starts pushing inside your warm tunnel.

“Open up, darling, you know you need it.” He hooks his hand under your thigh, raising it just slightly. “Relax and let me in.”

Your walls flutter open, trying to accommodate him in a not-so-aroused hole. It’s irritating and uncomfortable at first, but once his stomach is nicely pressed against your lower back, your body grows limp into the sheets. Finally comforted, finally full of love.

Anakin grunts, fighting the urge to buck against you. He neatly spoons you close to himself, pressing his knees into the back of your legs while his hand gently rubs your abdomen.

“There we go, nice and sheathed in your little pussy.” He pats your hip softly before resuming his soft caress.

You close your eyes, savoring the way your walls molded around him. The feeling of him pulsing inside you like a second heartbeat made your body swell with warmth. Your brain became fuzzy, filling with images of Anakin’s veiny shaft enveloped within you.

“Feels so good, Ani. So warm.” You utter, taking a deep breath of air, of his scent, more of Anakin inside you.

He lets out a low chuckle, his hand creeps its way under your belly button, teasing the skin above your pubic hair with his fingertips.

“Do you want to come?” He asks in a breathy voice, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. “Want my angel to be happy. Want to make you squirm in pleasure. Do you want to?”

You pause for a second. It was true that your insides were quickly flooding themselves when Anakin was loving you so good, when his hands felt so gentle on your skin, his cock numbed the sadness in you so perfectly… But you didn’t actually need an orgasm; you just wanted him, his presence, his sweet, comforting body, and soft voice that always grounded you. You didn’t want to come, but...

“No...”

“Of course, sweet thing.” He coos and kisses your shoulder gently, pulling your body against his. “Let me just hold my angel, nice and tight and wrapped around me. Just like you should be.”

He continues pressing feather-like pecks across your arm, softly tugging on your robes to expose more of your skin, which he so longed to adore, while you braced yourself to finish the sentence and reveal your need.

“But I want you to.” You mutter in a shy voice, heat spreading across your cheeks, making your muscles clench.

“Want me to what, love?” He pauses his loving kisses, locking his eyes with yours in a gaze that tells you that he knows exactly what you mean.

Having no energy to argue with his teasing nature, you only sigh to express your unwillingness to entertain him. You lay still for a moment, waiting for him to comply and finally amuse your wish.

“Gotta explain it to me, pretty angel, can’t do anything unless you tell me what you want.” He tickles your neck with his hot breath once more, beating you entirely by being sneakily right.

“Ani, please…” You turn to him, your glossy eyes making his heart swell and cock twitch inside you. “…please cum in me—”

“Atta girl.” You can’t even finish your filthy sentence when he grabs your hips and retreats from your warmth. “Gonna fill that pussy up, make a little creamy mess...”

Once his hips snap back, your eyes roll, and you know that soon enough, you’ll be begging to cum.

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unknownunidentified101 · 7 months

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FORGIVE ME?

SUMMARY : arguments are inevitable but they help you grow

CHARACTER : Gojo x gender neutral ! Reader

WARNINGS : angst to fluff

“ You’ve Could’ve Died!” Gojo trailed in front of you, throwing his hands up in the air in exaggeration.

“ But I Didn’t! I had a plan you know!?! You ruined it!” you raise your voice, slamming the door behind you. “ as if! Do you think squirming and being on the blink of death is a plan?!?” Gojo scoffed at your comebacks, he was in utter disbelief

“ yes it was!” You start to yell back

“ you aren’t fully healed from your injuries!” Gojo pointed to your limping leg. You stand still, hand bawling in a fist

“ I’m stronger than what you think” You retaliated back, you felt your blood boil. Gojo sighed harshly, pinching the bridge of his nose

“ Why Can’t You Listen To Me For Once!?! Are You Even Listening to me?” Gojo scolded, his tone hurtful as it slightly cracked, “ What If I Wasn’t There?” Gojo sat down on the couch, distress whelming over him

“ You Know I Would’ve Killed that Curse. Injury or not” you tried to lower your tone

“ you are so selfish” Gojo murmured under his breath. It didn’t go unnoticed to you and that was your finale straw

“ Selfish!?! You think I’m selfish?” You were in disbelief, scoffing loudly. “ YES!” Gojo yelled loudly at you, “ you don’t worry about what others want, you only care about yourself!” Gojo pointed out

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Had he not known how many times you’ve sacrificed yourself for others? Or how many times you’ve put yourself before him?

“ fuck you Gojo” you muttered his last name, stomping to the bedroom door before slamming it shut. Gojo’s lips gaped openly slightly. He hadn’t known the severity of the situation just yet. He messed up really bad .

Gojo has done a handful of bad things but this one was by far the worse. All the stress in the past week has built a ticking time bomb in you and Gojo set it off

Slamming the door shut, the sound rippled through the house. You sniffle a cracked cry. It was stupid, everything was

You collide with the bed, twisting and turning in the sheets, you felt like crying your heart out. After all those harsh words stabbed you through the chest, all you could do was spread some tears before eventually falling asleep

—-

It didn’t take long for you to wake up. Your throat was swelling up, it was really dry. You knew Gojo left in a hurry shortly after you so you decided to get a glass of water

By now, your emotions were drained out, your feet dragged itself against the wooden floor. You travelled to the living room which opened to the kitchen

Staring at the couch, you make out a figure slouching over the couch. It was Gojo as his feet barely fit on the chair, you didn’t want to see him now. A part of you had moved on but still, the anger was still prevalent

You quickly traveled to the kitchen and drank a glass of water, eyeing a vase on the counter. You realised there were suddenly flowers in the vase. You were in shock, why hadn’t you seen them before?

Not to mention they were your favourite

Moving closer, you spot a note that was placed on the side of the vase. Picking up the note, you were curious enough to read the contents inside it

‘ I’m sorry, forgive me?’

It red. You realised Gojo was apologising. After some self reflection, Gojo realised he was in the wrong and therefore ran to nearby stores to grab all the flowers he could

You had to admit, all your negative emotions disappeared, your mouth gaped open as your eyes stared in complete awe. He was always the first to apologise.

Staring back at the couch and note, you couldn’t leave the man out in the cold. You breathed in and out before approaching the couch

You kneeled down to stare at Gojo’s features. It was only now that you realised the dark circles that centred around his eyes. How long have they been there for?

Was he just as stressed as you? You felt guilty at this point.

“ Satoru….wake up” you slowly murmur, lightly patting the man’s shoulder. Satoru grumbled and stirred awake, his eyes focusing on your prominent figure

“ [y/n]..?” Gojo replies softly. You share a soft smile, “ let’s get to bed-“

You couldn’t even muster a sentence before you were tightly squeezed by Gojo’s arm. “ I’m sorry” Gojo immediately apologised

You were saddened by the apology, it made you seem more at fault. “ I know you are capable of fighting…and I didn’t mean it when I said you were selfish, in fact all you’ve ever been was self less…I was just worried and tired” Gojo murmurs, his rigid breath coating your neck

Your hands slowly snaked to Gojo’s back. “ you had every right to be worried… I’m sorry I put myself in danger too, you were right, I am still injured and I shouldn’t fight” you added on, addressing the doubts Gojo had

At last, Gojo parted from the hug, hand cupping your cheek. “ I’m sorry I sweared at you..I never meant it” you added, remembering your rude comment, shyly looking away from the man

“ don’t be, I kinda deserved it” Gojo merely chuckles, hugging you again. “ I missed you..don’t leave me please? I can do better” Gojo’s grip tightened again

“ Satoru I would never, we are in this together forever you know” you chuckled softly at Gojo’s overthinking

“ then…can i sleep with you please..?” Gojo’s voice wasn’t cocky anymore, it was a soft request to you

“ of course” you smile back, lightly kissing his cheek. Gojo smiles, wasting no time in peppering you in kisses

“ thank you” Gojo was very relieved. Out of everyone, he didn’t want to lose you to a stupid argument. He wasted no time in carrying you upwards, “ and then let’s cuddle together okay?” Gojo kissed your lips, carrying you to your shared room

“ yes, I would like that” you reply, erupting into soft giggles

599 notes · View notes

528-hotline · 5 months

Note

since you take suggestive reqs for gunwook — how do you think making out with him would be like? 👀

pairings | bf!gunwook x gn!reader

genre | fluff, suggestive

a/n 💌 if you feel uncomfy with suggestive themes on gunwook, don’t read. i’m just fulfilling a request (^^) really, really, really sorry for the long wait >< nevertheless, i hope you enjoy anon! i was blushing all over while writing bc my delulu side was showing here… i can’t do this aaa 😖

i think he could be shy and playful, he would be so subtle and gentle along the process. i also feel like he would be handsy all over, he would be caressing your face and neck all over, and touching your arms. you’d feel so small because of his big hands going all over the place. oh, and he would also hold your hands while you kiss!!

also, he makes sure that you’re okay, or he would ask if he was doing fine … afterwards, he asks if you felt uncomfy along the way or anything negative in particular because he wouldn’t want to hurt you :((

“since we shared a lot of kisses with each other… why don’t we take it to the next level..?” gunwook asks shyly, his cheeks all flustered.

“what do you mean by that? and why are you so… pink?” you chuckled, you held his cheeks with both of your hands, instantly feeling his warmth on your palms.

“like uh… make out? you know, the ones you see in movies? o-only if you’re ready! and if that’s okay with you…” he nervously asks you.

usually, both you would just share playful kisses, but it never crossed in your mind doing something like this with him. it doesn’t hurt to try and you trust him anyway.

“hmmm.. i’m cool with it,” you wrapped your hands around his neck, giving him an assuring smile.

“can i? um…” gunwook shyly asks, while pointing at your neck. you chuckled at his cute manner and nodded at him. he takes off his glasses, putting it down on the coffee table. he then attaches his lips on your neck, peppering tiny, playful kisses all over. “it tickles,” you giggled, but he stops.

“why’d you stop?”

“you said it tickles!”

“silly wookie, i was already getting a bit excited!!” you whined, your lips pouting at him for stopping as you away at him, pretending to be sulky.

“you’re so cute when you pout your lips, it makes me want to start… right here…” gunwook brings your head towards where his face is. he caresses your cheek, and then lifts up your chin. you met his eyes, both of you leaning in towards each other, as both of your lips collide at each other.

your mind went blank. all that you could ever think of was drowning into his plush, plump lips. gunwook held your hand as he tilted his head to further deepen the kiss, making you collapse on the sofa pillows. you then wrap your arms around his neck.

he then tries to sneak his tongue in to the crevices of your lips. curious, you also let your tongue out, thinking what he’ll do with it. he then swirls his tongue in to yours and you also did, as your tongues danced in to pure bliss for a while.

a string saliva connecting both of your lips as you both pulled out of each other’s lips, you unwrap your arms that were around his neck. “you good, baby?” he asked you breathlessly before he proceeds even further as your eyes met with his husky ones. you then looked at his face. his cheeks flushed out, lips all swollen, while he’s all breathless from the kiss. “fuck, was he always this hot?” you cursed to yourself, as this image of him slowly engraves into your mind. you stare back on to his eyes for a few more seconds before you nodded to him as a response.

gunwook gave you a soft smile, leaning on to your ear, tucking strands of hair to your ears. “your lips are so soft, as always,” he whispers to your ear. he wraps his hand around the back your torso, and the other held your arm. his lips landed on to your jaw, planting down a few peppery kisses from your jaw, going down to your neck.

he then delicately plants down wet kisses all over your neck. you tilted your head, giving him more access down on your neck. he then holds your waist with his large hands. the feeling of his lips and his hands altogether on you made you knees felt weaker and made your heart skip a beat.

gunwook finishes his kiss by placing one near your ear. “i love you, and i’m glad you trusted me with this one.” he whispers to your ear huskily. god, you always fall even harder when his voice turns even huskier than usual.

“i love you too, my wookie.” you whispered, putting your chin on top of his head. you felt a movement from him, and he then hovers himself on top of you. you were startled by this sudden action, he laughed at your reaction as he kisses your lips sweetly, both of you smiling through the kiss.

you felt a burning flame into your heart, knowing that this moment will bring you both in to a stronger and deeper connection. truly, this moment felt sweet and heavenly for the both of you.

gunwook fixes his position as he lies down by your side, turning around at your side, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “was i good, baby?” gunwook asks excitedly.

you turned around as you face him, “damn, i didn’t know you can kiss and makeout with a girl that good… then, why didn’t you do it earlier?” you giggled, as the smile on his lips while you complimented him turned into a pout.

“i was shy, okay? now that we’ve been together for months… i–” he stops at his sentence, finding the words as he sighed and gave up after a second. “you know… you get the point!” he says in defense, as you nodded and laughed on how cute he becomes when he’s being defensive on something.

“okay fine, i understand!” you answered back at his defense.

“well anyway, um.. thanks for trusting me and letting me try this for once.” gunwook finally settled down, sincerity and affection flowing through his voice.

“once? only once? that’s lame, i was expecting more from you soon,” you chuckled in response as gunwook rolled his eyes playfully at you.

“well, i’ll give you as many as i want, or as you want!” he giggles and leans in, both of your noses almost sticking at each other.

“that’s more like it, my love.”

#zb1 imagines #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 drabbles #zerobaseone drabbles #zb1 scenarios #zerobaseone scenarios #gunwook x reader #park gunwook #zb1 gunwook #gunwook imagines #zerobaseone gunwook

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whumpshaped · 6 months

Note

this is a disgustingly fluffy prompt so beware slfkdh

caretaker always calls whumpee a word in their (caretaker‘s) native language, which whumpee doesn’t understand. but since they are very self loathing they just assume it’s something negative, since caretaker has to spend so much time and energy caring for and „tolerating“ whumpee. one day whumpee gets too curious though and decides to look up the word, only to find out it’s a pet name and caretaker has been calling them something lovingly the entire time

(bonus points if you do it in your native language i love learning new cute pet names!!)

sorry to all hungarians i know seeing this will cause some whiplash

tw pet whump, past trauma, caretaker new master

‘Easy, szívem.’

‘Szívem, could you bring me some water?’

‘You don’t have to push yourself, szívem.’

Whumpee accepted the nickname as their own easily. Whumper had given them plenty, although never ones they couldn’t even understand; useless, stupid, mutt… who knew which one Caretaker was using on them?

They avoided asking about it for the longest time. They told themself they were prepared for the meaning, that they could handle whatever degrading thing their new master ‘friend’ threw at them, but in reality… They weren’t prepared at all. They didn’t want to know. They wanted to pretend it was something nice, a term of genuine endearment, dear, darling, honey… Something people said to each other with kindness.

But eventually, curiosity won out. Whumpee sneaked into the study one day, picking out one of the dictionaries from the shelf. They thought about using the computer, but they chickened out. It would’ve been a much more egregious crime than opening a book.

The issue was, they had no idea how to spell the word. They started at ‘S’, flipping through pages upon pages and finding nothing. See-vem. See-vem. None of the words looked right. They eventually crossed over into the next letter, ‘Sz’, unsure what sound that would even make. It was all so confusing… How did Caretaker even speak this?

“Can I help you?”

Whumpee flinched at the voice, slamming the dictionary shut immediately. “C-Caretaker– I– I wasn’t– I wasn’t doing anything! I was cleaning, and the book fell down, I was just trying to check whether it was intact–”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” they said with a smile. “I’m not mad, szívem. But if you were looking for something specific in there, maybe I could help.”

“N-no, no, it’s… it’s nothing… I…” They took a deep breath, trying to ground themself. It was now or never, really. They wouldn’t get a better chance to ask. “Well… I, I was wondering about, um… The nickname, I guess. What you always call me.”

“Ah, of course. I’m sorry, I’ve never really explained it, have I? It’s just a term of endearment.” They pulled out their phone and typed something. “I’m pretty sure the dictionary only has the root word. Here.”

Whumpee took the phone gingerly, looking at the translation program. Original word, in Hungarian: szívem. Yeah, they would’ve never gotten that right. Translation, in English…

Their eyes widened in disbelief. Next to them, Caretaker chuckled. “What did you think it meant?” they asked cheerily, seemingly unaware of all the horrible options that had been swirling around in Whumpee’s head before.

“I… I don’t even know,” they breathed.

They definitely didn’t think it meant something as innocent as ‘my heart’.

#asks #whump #whump drabble #pet whump #past trauma #caretaker new master #recovery fic #comfort

499 notes · View notes

notjustjavierpena · 9 months

Text

Eat

A/N: Pussy? Eaten. Stomach? Butterflies. Hotel? Trivago. Think this takes place short after Gush.

Summary: You tell Joel that you cannot come from getting eaten out, but he isn’t convinced.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut (mdni), dad’s best friend joel miller, daddy kink, soft soft soft and patient joel, nipple play, pussy eating, dirty talk, intense orgasm, pet names , bit of praise kink and body worship

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49669783

Eat

Joel has you completely naked and pinned to his bed. It’s a Saturday afternoon, sun is pining in through the curtains and heating up the room that’s already warm from your bodies being entwined. You have yet to get out of bed despite needing a shower, perhaps some food for your growling stomach, and maybe a glass of ice water from how sweaty your body is when you are in the older man’s proximity. He makes your heart pound.

He hovers over you whilst on his knees between your legs, hands on your wrists and gaze hungry as he contemplates what he wants to do with you. Your stomach drops as he asks, “Will you lemme have it? Lemme eat your pussy, princess?”

It’s not that you don’t think this is sexy. It is just that. Though, despite how many times Joel has made you come during the summer, he actually hasn’t gone down on you yet.

He has tried a million times though, but you have always playfully pushed his head away every time he has tried to descend on your body, distracted him with a blowjob, or made him finger your cunt instead. At this point, you still haven’t told him that the reason is that you simply don’t like it.

“Joel,” you avoid his gaze, turn your head away, “I—“

Joel hasn’t heard hesitation from you before, only the jokes that he hasn’t taken to heart. He lets go of one of your wrists, takes hold of your chin, and guides your head back so you face him again. He furrows his brow at the uncertainty in your eyes that meet his, “What’s a’ matter?”

“Nothing,” you play dumb, avoiding his curious look once more but he snaps his fingers in front of you to regain your attention. You groan at how well it works, “Why would anything be wrong? It’s just… I don’t really like it. I can’t come from it.”

Joel narrows his eyes slightly, not convinced, “Why’d you think you can’t come from it?”

“This guy I was with,” you begin and it’s Joel’s turn to look uncertain. You want to roll your eyes; doesn’t he know that he has ruined everyone else for you by now?

“Years ago,” you add, “He told me I took too long, so maybe I just, you know, couldn’t. I didn’t want to try again.”

Joel doesn’t get pissed at the guy or start a rant like you expect him to do (something about that boy taking this sort of experience from you and turning it into something negative). Instead, he starts laughing to the point where he needs to rest his forehead against your shoulder to calm himself because the pout you give him just makes him laugh harder.

“What?” You push at his head in annoyance. He cannot even hold onto your other wrist anymore.

“Took too long. Jesus,” his laughter is interrupted by a cough. You can feel his chest vibrating against your own, “He was bullshittin’ you, baby girl. What a lazy piece of shit, and what range of stupid lil’ fuckers you’ve allowed to have what’s mine.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I hate it,” you squirm underneath him at his choice of words, reaching for his hair with your hands to pull at it gently, “Stop laughing. It’s not funny.”

“It is kinda funny,” he looks up at you through his lashes. There’s something sweet to his voice whilst his eyes darken, “Hey now. It’s just… ya said ya didn’t squirt either, and then fuckin’ wet the bed.”

You go beet red, “Joel. God.”

“I’m merely a man just tryna prove a point,” he jokes, earning a glare. Something shifts a little in the air and then he isn’t playing anymore, “Will ya lemme try? Just f’me? We can stop anytime you want.”

“I don’t know,” you sound unsure.

“We’ll go reeeal slow,” he pushes.

“O-okay,” you say. What’s the harm in letting him try? It’s not like it is uncomfortable for you, but rather just slightly boring and awkward.

“Okay’s not a yes, princess,” Joel crawls up to try to kiss your uncertainty away. He pecks your lips over and over again, switching not long after to pepper your face with more gentle kisses instead. They’re scattered across your cheeks, lips, nose, above your eyebrows, soft eyelids, and chin. He doesn’t let up until you giggle sweetly.

“Yes!” You squeak and mess up his hair, “Eat some damn pussy, if it means that much to you.”

“Try to relax for me,” he instructs and pushes himself to sit up again. His eyes have darkened further, “How do you want ya legs?”

You bend your legs, planting your feet firmly on the bed and spreading yourself open enough for Joel’s broad shoulders to fit between your thighs. He doesn’t go down yet though, keeping his promise of taking things slow in case you want to stop before it gets too intense.

His lips connect to where your neck meets your shoulder, pressing his nose firmly into you to inhale your scent. It must be nothing but sleep and sweat by now. He opens his mouth against your skin, sucks across your collarbone until he reaches your jugular notch. He dips his tongue into the dent, and licks off the sweat before murmuring, “I can feel you not relaxin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a pounding heart and you mean it, curl your toes, but he shushes you immediately.

“No, no. This ain’t on you, baby. Tell me what I can do to make ya relax,” he pulls back to look at your face. He looks so gorgeous with the sun hitting his body like this.

“Talk to me,” you whisper without knowing why.

“My baby wants to hear how gorgeous she is?” He asks as he goes back to putting his mouth on your throat. You tip your head back, and he hums against you, “How perfect ‘n beautiful ‘n sexy? Perhaps a little spoiled too?”

“Mhm, yes,” you rest your hand on the back of his neck when he starts to descend. His lips trail down between your breasts, and his huge palm covers one of them whilst he sucks on the other. He is eager, cheeky enough to tug your nipple into his mouth with his teeth. You moan softly.

“Fuckin’ love your tits, Jesus, look at you,” he mumbles absentmindedly to himself before going back in. He dares to suck a light purple mark onto your skin just close enough to your nipple so that you can cover it up and keep it a secret between the two of you even if going to the lake with friends and wearing your skimpy bikini.

You groan and arch your back when he switches to the other one of your tits, cupping it still whilst lapping at your nipple. He flicks his tongue across it just when you think he might pull away, causing you to let out a long drawn-out whine.

“You fuckin’ love that, don’t ya?” He kisses the swell of your breast, tugs a little with his hand. You close your eyes, bolts of arousal shooting up your spine again when he suckles once more.

Slowly, you find that much of the nervousness is seeping out of your body with every kiss, lick and suck of your salty skin. It may be the time to admit that Joel knows just which buttons to push to turn you into putty. It may also be the time to admit that you are starting to get excited about what is going to happen. Nervous but excited.

“You’re so soft… like damn silk,” he admires whilst he goes lower. His nose brushes along the length of your stomach, tickling a little to the point where you shiver and let out a soft sigh. He relishes in it, “Damn, baby. Listen to that sound.”

You rake your nails across his scalp when he nips at your skin. Heat is pooling in your belly and you can feel slick drip onto the sheets, running down the cleft of your ass, “Touch my pussy, Daddy.”

Joel tenses visibly at the nickname. He grips your hip, and somehow becomes a little rougher in everything he does, “Gotta wait. Maybe your disaster college boyfriend didn’t get ya worked up enough. I definitely ain’t gonna make that mistake.”

He crawls further down, kisses open-mouthed and hot right below your belly button several times. Even places the flat of his tongue against the skin there to lick long languid stripes, “Won’t start until you beg me to kiss your little twitchin’ clit.”

“But I’m so wet,” you pout, flexing the muscles in your stomach. When you try lifting your hips to find some kind of friction, he pushes you right back down into the mattress.

“Stop,” he warns sternly. The hand on your hip runs across your belly, teases over your mound and ghosts over your clit until you cry feebly for him, “Do you want me to just touch ya between your pretty legs?”

“I told you I don’t like the other thing,” you reply to spite him and egg him on. He smacks one of your thighs, wiggling the flesh after.

“Liar,” he breaks eye contact to look right down at your cunt. You are sure that he can see how you clench around nothing, clit so hard that it is exposed from underneath the hood. You are so ready for him to follow through, no matter the nervousness in your body, “The anticipation wouldn’t have you this excited if yadidn’t care. You’ll fuckin’ let Daddy live between your thighs after he’s done eating.”

“Fine,” you huff, spreading your legs further to punctuate your sentence, “Put your mouth on my pussy. Prove it.”

Joel groans at the sight of you giving in to him. He gets comfortable on the bed, legs hanging out over the edge. One arm scoops underneath you to curl around your right thigh and the other rests on top of your left. He splays his hand across your sternum, and almost automatically, you reach for it and tug at two of his fingers as if needing something to hold onto for dear life.

“Now we talkin’,” he smirks.

“Hold on,” you interrupt, heart almost beating out of your chest with how horny you feel. That, and the fact that what Joel is about to do to you seems to be the most intimate thing you can think of. It feels dangerous, exciting, and scary.

You put another pillow behind your back and head, so you can watch him over the top of your tits and his hand. He grumbles but waits.

“Go,” you say with an apologetic smile, “Just wanted to see you.”

“Ain’t you adorable?” Joel gazes up at you to follow through on your wish, “Ready?”

“Just wanna come now,” you promise, “‘m just nervous. Makes me fidget.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, breath ghosting over your pussy as he lowers himself down slowly, “Makes ya toes curl too.”

You cannot quite believe that you have Joel Miller’s face between your legs right now, and even less so believe the hungriest smile in history that he is sporting. It is enough to make you blush, letting go of Joel’s hand and reaching up to cup your face when the anticipation becomes overwhelming. You rest your pinkies in front of your mouth, palms burning from being clasped around your cheeks but it feels like you might lose it if you let go.

The simple brush of his tongue that he chooses as a starting point has you squirming on the bed. His tongue is warm and flat against you, licking how he had done it against the sensitive skin of your stomach.

Your stomach muscles twitch. It feels… good. Better than the first time you did it.

“Okay?” He asks in a hum, looking up at you through his lashes with genuine eyes. You nod slowly, and he lowers again to press a soft kiss to your sensitive clit.

And then another.

And another.

You make a noise best described as a soft sigh.

Then he goes lower, the kisses becoming more sloppy and wet. He stops when he reaches your quivering cunt, lets out his tongue to scoop up some of the slick that has gathered and is spilling down between your cheeks. He then licks a long stripe all the way up to your clit, and laps at it like he is eating a damn ice cream cone.

“Mhmm, tastes so fuckin’ good, baby, like heaven,” he continues with his small licks, the hand on your chest finding your left nipple. Tugs like he knows you like.

You moan for the first time, not sure if you have repressed the urge to do so. He takes it as a sign to keep going, stiffening his tongue to run it between your folds repeatedly and eventually settling on your clit again. He flicks the tensed-up muscle against the nub, setting up a pace that suddenly causes you to whine.

“Ohh,” you swallow thickly, part your lips and breathe heavily. A muscle in the thigh that Joel is holding flexes involuntarily, and you can feel him smirk against you when he moves back to open-mouthed kisses.

“No, go back,” you demand, “Please.”

“Yeah?” Joel pulls back instead to tease you. He removes his hand from your thigh to suck his thumb into his mouth. He makes you tremble at the sight, but even more when he circles your clit with the pad of the finger after, “You like Daddy’s tongue on your pussy, baby?”

You hesitate for a moment.

“Say it,” he still draws lazy circles.

“Feels so good,” you admit finally with a groan, “You’re always right.”

“Know I am,” he kisses your inner thigh. The hand on your breast moves to rub soothingly up and down your belly, “‘bout time you realized.”

“I want you to keep going,” you say with a shy smile, blinking down at him, “Please, Daddy?”

His hands still on you, but then he reaches to place both hands on your inner thighs to spread you out a little further. You fall back into the pillow, and he sinks into you again, “Whatever baby wants, baby gets.”

You have never actually thought about how big his mouth is before. In fact, it is huge in comparison to everything about you. He is able to stretch his lips over every inch of your cunt, and he gladly does.

Your breath hitches before you let out a drawn-out moan. Joel eats you out enthusiastically; he licks, sucks, and even dips his tongue inside of you for a moment too. You can feel the world closing in on you, shrinking to nothing but the pressure that builds.

“It’s—“ you want to say something that makes sense, because whatever you had done in the dim light of your college dormitory a few years prior was definitely not this, but there are no words that describe how overwhelming his slick tongue is, “It’s— oh God.”

You squeal pathetically as your cunt teeters on the edge of an orgasm. You try to press your thighs inwards to make the intensity go away, but Joel is so much stronger than you.

It hits you then. Fuck, it’s going to happen; you’re going to come with his mouth between your legs, and he is never going to let you live this down. This is not what you had planned. There is a little part of you that knows you would have relished in being right for once, but there’s a much bigger part that thanks the Gods that you aren’t going to live forever without coming like this.

You close your eyes as you groan, but it makes Joel slow down, “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart, look at me.”

He sucks again, and your hands fly to his hair, but it only goes on for a second, “Ya doing so well. Does it feel good, princess?”

“You’re being mean,” you whimper, tugging at the strands of hair that you have between your fingers, “Make me come.”

Joel follows through then. He buries his nose in your mound and sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks with how much effort he puts into it. When you start thrashing on the bed, he wraps his arms around your legs and holds you tightly in place until you fall apart right below his mouth.

You shriek as your cunt spasms. If not for Joel’s strength, you are sure that you would have accidentally kneed him in the face, because your legs lose control of themselves as if the orgasm has severed any connection to them.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you break the swearing rule as your orgasm peaks, pushing and pulling his head away because you don’t have a clue whether you want more or less. Your back arches as Joel keeps licking through your drenched folds, you think you might have started to cry too.

Shaking breaths echo through Joel’s bedroom as you come down. Joel has removed your hands from his head, and you have slumped into the mattress with a whimper. Nothing has ever felt more dirty.

“Are you okay?” He asks after crawling up the bed to lay beside you. He rubs your stomach with his broad hand, and even that makes you let out a feeble sigh.

You laugh with exhaustion, but don’t reply.

“I do good?” He asks with a lopsided grin, rubbing the back of his hand over his soaked mouth and chin.

You turn your head to look at him but then start giggling, pointing to your own nose, “You got a little… you know.”

He doesn’t get it when he wipes his hand over his nose the first time. You laugh harder due to the dopamine flowing through your system, and he grumbles, “Well help me then, kiddo.”

When you beckon him closer, he moves without hesitation, and as you run your index finger down his nose to catch your own shiny arousal, you try to push down the feeling of butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

It’s a feeling that needs to go away. You can’t possibly love Joel Miller and survive.

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obae-me · 1 year

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The OM Characters and How They Hug

Just a lil bit of fluff for me and for you in these trying times

Lucifer:

Softly yet protectively. With a relaxed arm curved around the shoulder-blades and one protecting the back of the neck, his hand settled behind the head. As the eldest of his brothers, he is well used to making someone feel safe. He might not do this as often as he used to in the Celestial Realm, but there are still occasions where his brothers come to him for one of these hugs. It’s a hug that tells you he’ll take care of it. No matter the problem, no matter the worry, settle it on his shoulders. His pride can handle it. Sometimes he’ll even unfurl his wings to shelter the person he’s hugging, shielding them from the world, making sure they can’t be seen in their moment of vulnerability.

Mammon:

Tightly and passionately. Most of the time it’ll be a simple squeeze, standing side by side with whoever he’s accompanying, an arm around their back as he pulls them against him, shoulders shrugging up against each other, his head lightly bonking against theirs as he grins. But if it’s serious, he’ll pull whoever it is close and tight, his arms slipping under theirs, hands grasping at the back of their clothing as he clings to them. His emotions are always open to everyone, even if he tries to hide it. Whoever Mammon is hugging knows exactly how they feel for him, they can feel it in the burning warmth of his body, in every twitching muscle that holds them to him. Everything about his hugs screams ‘I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere’.

Levi:

Nervously but assuring. He constantly shifts on his feet, his arms moving till they settle wherever feels best, more natural, which usually has his head somewhere near or on their shoulder. Sometimes he’ll even have his tail wrap around their waist. He feels like he’s not good at this, like he’s the last person to go to for a hug. There have to be better options but...whoever it was came to him. He can’t...he doesn’t want to pass up on this opportunity. He isn’t the third oldest and strongest of his siblings for nothing. He can mostly only think on the negative, but sometimes that can come in handy. At least it could be worse. Remember that time when they felt even more awful? At least this wasn’t that moment. At least they were here...with him...together.

Satan:

Curiously and surprisingly shakily. He’s wrath and yet he’s been sought out for comfort. He can’t help but wonder why. He hugs simply at first with his arms around their back, his hands clasped behind their body. Yet, he’s a bit...unsteady with it. He’s not a natural at this, and yet...he doesn’t mind it. He turns curious, his arms slowly shifting, tightening ever so slightly till he’s satisfied. Is this helping? He’s better at more logically solving problems than embracing, but...this is fine. It’s nice being depended on every once and a while, being wanted for something calm. He’s more used to holding cats, not people, so whoever it is might be surprised (or not so surprised) to find he’ll start stroking the back of their head in a slow rhythm, his fingers scratching at the base of their skull.

Asmo:

Lovingly and lightly. His arms wrap up around their shoulders, twirling his fingers in the ends of their hair. His hands explore, finding all the tight spots in their body and trying to rub it out of them in little circles. He’s a wonderful source of hugs. Every touch of his feels delicate and intentional. He even seems to know certain pressure points to alleviate some tension, leaving the brain tingling. In his arms, they’re loved, they’re wanted. Breathe it in calmly. Feel the heart beat. Feel the feeling in your limbs. Focus on the brilliant sensations the body possesses. Distract the mind. Live in the now. Here, with him, they are pampered, admired, beautiful.

Beel:

Bone-crushingly tight and supportive. The recipient might not be able to breathe for a minute, but he’ll eventually adjust his own strength, still hugging whoever it is as tightly as they can manage. He likes to cover as much of the person he’s holding as he can, chin on their head if they’re shorter than him, which most are. If they’re taller than him, they should be ready to find themselves pushed down a little to feel smaller. Most times he’ll even pick them up a little off the ground. They can feel easy in his arms. He’ll support them, he’ll carry them, he’ll do whatever it takes to make them feel better. Just tell him what he has to do, or he can simply stand here longer, holding them even tighter.

Belphie:

Lazily but comforting. He’ll drape his arms over them if he even moves his arms at all. Most times he simply leans into whoever it is, letting them do the holding. Stay into the hug too long, and it’ll turn into a full out cuddle, almost forcing whoever it is to lie down with him and stay a while. If he has to lie directly on them to keep them from moving, he will. It’s his own way of supporting, of caring. His tail might wrap around their ankles to keep them from walking away. His yawns are infectious, making the other person yawn. His soft breathing slowly seeps its way into their lungs, making them breathe deeply and calmly. And, if he’s determined enough, he’ll slowly use his sin to lull them to sleep. Only when they’re not fully awake will he wrap his arms around whoever it is, his head rubbing up against their shoulder or chest.

Diavolo:

Strongly and shielding. Despite not having the opportunity very often, anytime it is presented to him, he takes it in stride. He’ll scoop whoever it is up into his arms, curving his large body over them, surrounding them, making them feel like nothing could get to them while he is there. His hold is strong, unwavering, a hand firmly on the back. He will not let go until the time is right. Sometimes he might even laugh, even if the situation feels dreary. He just has so much joy to share, and being here, comforting someone, it makes him happier than they can even imagine. His positivity tends to pool into others. His positive and hopeful outlook shining through the darkest of thoughts.

Barbatos:

Politely yet firm. His hands typically settle on their shoulders, going no further, pulling them against him. Only occasionally, if he feels it’s needed, will his hands reach around their back. His fingers hold on surprisingly tightly. They won’t slip from him, or rather, he will not let them go. Sure, he might feel like it’s his duty to uphold peace in the kingdom, but truthfully, he can’t handle seeing those he cares for feel so unlike themselves. And if a gesture such as this will alleviate some of that stress, so be it. He might find himself adjusting and fussing over whoever he is holding, smoothing out wrinkles, pulling off stray hairs, dusting off lint, clipping off loose threads. He can’t help it. It is his way of caring for them.

Simeon:

Warmly and soothingly. An angel's duty is to comfort. To spread light and joy. It's something he enjoys doing. He'll hold them gently, the warmth from his Celestial body spreading over them, but not in a suffocating way. He almost feels exactly like the sensation one gets when they wrap themselves in a blanket that had just gotten out of the dryer. His cheek presses somewhere against their head, his hand rubbing up and down their spine. It's immediately comforting and whether it's his power or simply his personality no one knows for certain. People come to him for hugs often, even if they'll never admit it. Hugs from Simeon are almost like a reset, a recharge, returning that drained vitality.

Solomon:

Cautiously yet enveloping. He's not used to people coming to him for hugs. Despite him being alive for who knows how long, he still feels rusty at it. But, of course, if the desire is genuine, who is he to deny something so simple? He hugs like some of those old men who use one arm to pull them in and the other to give them a single pat on the back, but if they need a little more than that, he'll hold onto them longer, trying to remember old memories, feelings of nostalgia for other moments like these that have been long forgotten. Eventually, he'll lean forward, throwing the remaining caution to the wind and hugging them entirely, squeezing hard enough that maybe, this time, the memory will remain forever.

Luke:

Adorably clingy. He may pout and whine about how he's not some cute little angel, he doesn't want to be treated like a child, but of course his hugs make his denials hard to take seriously. He hugs like his life depends on it, like he'll never ever let go, like the only way he'll leave is if you pry him off. He's got surprising strength for his looks. Sometimes, he likes to jump a little right before he holds on so he can wrap his arms around their neck so he doesn't feel so small. Of course, depending on who he's hugging, they might just pick him up anyway which defeats the purpose, but perhaps he can allow it just this once, if it makes whoever he's hugging feel better.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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eddieboi23 · 6 months

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Hello I'd like to ask if u can do a Wednesday x Always tired reader , plz and thank u if ur able to do it

Tiredness

Wednesday Addams x tired reader

(Wednesday )

Summary: Wednesday notices you always tired , she can’t help but admire it

Tw: insomnia, depression, death mentions??

Y/n)=your name

-this is thoughts-

“This is talking”

——————————

You are always tired, a night owl. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s the insomnia, maybe it’s you watching Netflix til 3 am, or maybe it’s the depression.

Netherless, you’re always tired, while most of the students don’t question it and just see it as a character trait, Wednesday was a curious one.

She always liked to find out stuff about people that interested her, and right now she wonders why you always seem half dead, not that there’s anything wrong with it in her books.

—-

You wake up early on a dark and somber day. You roll over in bed and stares up at the ceiling.

You have class today once again and all you feel is this never-ending sense of fatigue.

You slowly drag yourself out of bed and take a shower.

The warm water running over your body somehow only makes you feel more tired.

You stand in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, trying to convince yourself to get ready for the day, soon you put on your uniform and head to class.

——-

Wednesday is in class early as usual, in her normal black uniform.

She watches you walk in and sit across from her, right in her line of sight.

She noticed you.

You looked absolutely exhausted. half-dead even…Just barely functioning.

Wednesday couldn't help but admire it, it was her kind of aesthetic after all. She then snaps out of it her thoughts when she realized you were speaking to her.

“What did you say?” She says in her monotone voice.

“I said are you ok..? You were staring..”

She huffs. “Of course I’m fine, you’re the one who looks half dead.” She scowls. You rolls your eyes. “Ok ok sorry.. geez.”

She then looks away. “Why do you look so half dead, just out of curiosity.”

Her tone sounds as if she actually cares. You raise your eyebrow but brushes her tone off as you being tired.

“Dunno…depressed…can never sleep.”

She hides her surprise. She never thought of depression, you never spoke negatively so she chalked it up to you staying up to late, now realizing it’s deeper than that, she can’t help with the tiniest bit of concern that she feels in her black heart for you.

“I see.”

Soon classes carry on, you’re in the same ones as her so now she’s truly studying you. She’s now noticing how you carry yourself, half dead, like a zombie.

Classes end after awhile and she seems you by the fountain. She decides to do something risky. She’s going to make you do some self care and sleep.

Enids been talking her ear off about all of that so she knows a bit.

She approaches you without a word and grabs your uniform sleeve and starts to drag you, being freakishly strong for such a small person.

You try to protest but she ignores you, so you let her.

She drags you to your own door, and pushes you inside.

You grunt and look at her confused.

“Ok what’s going on Wednesday? Are you gonna murder me, if so please not in my own room-“

Wednesday shoves you on your bed and you see Thing on your bedside table, hes has some nail clippers, nail polish,nail file ,face masks, drinks and snacks. Thing waves and you wave back hesitantly, then look at Wednesday with a questioning look.

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “You’re always, i did not know you were depressed. I’d rather you not die from exhaustion…so Thing is going to do a “self care” day. I will be cleaning up your room because it’s absolutely atrocious.”

You don’t know what to say, you know not to make a big deal out of it or she will take it back, but you can’t help but tear up. “Th-thanks Weds…”

Wednesday huffs and rolls her eyes. “Whatever”

You and thing starts doing your little spa day as Wednesday cleans up your “depression cave”.

You get your nails done, your face exfoliated, and your belly full of your favorite snacks and drinks.

Within the time of you doing that, Wednesday has joined in despite saying she didn’t want to.

You ask…”hey…weds…be honest, why did you do this for me?”

She hesitates…then sighs. “Look. It’s possible I care about you, maybe I even…like you. DONT let it get to your head though.”

You try to stay calm and just smile.

After all this pampering you start falling asleep and subconsciously lean on Wednesday.

Her immediate response is to want to shove you off, but seeing you so peaceful, she lets you fall asleep on her.

She stares at your face, then slowly kisses your forehead, her cold lips on your warm skin…she sighs and watches you sleep.

—————————————-

Sorry this is late I was super busy!!!

Hope you like it

#wednesdayaddams #addams wednesday #wednesday addams x gn reader #wednesday x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x y/n #wednesday #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday addams

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 1 month

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Hello! May I please request #5 “Flowers” from the prompt list? Thank you! :D

Ayyyyyyy one of my fave prompts from the list! Glad you requested it!!

Summary: You give Astarion a personally handmade flower crown

Each flower has its own unique meaning, though some meanings have been lost to time. Your mother’s voice teaching you the meaning of some flowers has long faded from your memory, a loss you mourn as you scour the markets for books on flowers and their meanings.

You know Astarion isn’t one for receiving flowers, but its not the flower you want him to hold dear to his heart, no, it’s the meaning of the flower that you want to imprint into his mind for all eternity.

By a stroke of luck, you find a book detailing the meaning and uses of certain flowers in Faerun hidden away in the corners of a merchant’s store. A quick purchase later and its now permanently in your hands, ready for perusing.

Astarion raises an eyebrow when he sees you sitting in your tent, engrossed in a book instead of sitting with the others around the campfire, unwinding after a long day of adventuring. The others don’t seem to mind the missing company, but this is most unusual behaviour from you so Astarion takes it upon himself to investigate this change.

“Hello darling, not in the mood for mingling tonight?” He smiles, closing the distance between the two of you. You shift over wordlessly, making space for him and he happily sits down, taking a look at the book you’re reading.

“I had no idea you were into flowers, I thought you were more into…clothes.”

“You thought wrong, then.” His favourite smile of yours graces your lips as amusement flashes across your face. “If however it were a book about clothes…I could be persuaded to be into clothes.”

Astarion can’t help but laugh at your attempt at a sly look and leans in to press a quick peck to your lips. “Leave that kind of talk to me, darling. You’re positively terrible at it.”

“At least I’m not negatively terrible at it.” You shoot back.

Astarion rolls his eyes, half immune to your type of jokes at this point and swipes the book from your lap, curious. You’re left hugging him from behind as he holds the book out of your reach, reading the page you’re on.

“Aren’t night orchids our resident cleric’s favourite flower?”

“Yes, they are.” You rest your chin on his shoulder, still clinging onto him.

“Night orchids are known to symbolise rarity, uniqueness, beauty and spirituality. Who knew her favourite flower represented her so well?” He remarks.

“They also represent someone else very well.” You mumble into his back sheepishly. Astarion hums in response, closing the book after placing a bookmark in it for you and turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yes, Star?” You ask.

Astarion buries his face into your hair, letting out a soft breath that ruffles the strands on the top of your head, causing you to smile softly and reach upwards to run your fingers through his hair. A quiet purr rumbles in his throat as he leans into your touch, enjoying the attention you’re lavishing upon him instead of the book. You indulge him, knowing nights like this where you’re not needed by anyone else are few and far between. Astarion curls his fingers around yours, enjoying the way your hand neatly slots into his as if they were made for each other. Maybe they were, maybe you were always meant for him and vice versa. He quite likes that thought.

You play with a few strands of his silver hair, twirling them around a finger. “A flower wreath would look really nice on you.”

“Would it now?” Astarion would really rather you remain here until dawn breaks instead of going out to pick flowers, even if they are for him.

“It would. You will look really pretty with one sitting on your head like a crown.” You draw a ghostly circle around his head, mirroring where the flower wreath would sit before clapping your hands together. “That settles it! I’ll make you one!”

Astarion quickly moves to grab your arm, eyes wide as his mouth moves to convince you to stay, to not leave him yet. He’s ready to beg you to remain by his side for what remains of the night, afraid that someone might steal you away from him but you haven’t moved an inch from your spot.

“I still don’t know what flower to use,” you chuckle. “Guess I’ll have to stay here for the rest of the night, hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not, darling.” He swallows, shoving his embarrassment to the back of his mind. You lean against his chest, book tossed aside in favour of your lover and inhale his scent, blissfully snuggling against him. He holds you close, tracing patterns on your exposed skin until you fall asleep and he tucks you into your bedroll, pressing a kiss to your forehead and sneaks out of your tent, but not before wishing you a quiet goodnight that you’re far too deep in sleep to hear.

The matter of the flower crown gets pushed to the back of your mind and out of Astarion’s head in favour of more pressing matters as your party journeys on until you stumble upon the cave Shadowheart once lived in deep in the underground Sharran temple.

While the others search the cave for loot or lost childhood memories, a certain plant catches your eye — night orchids. You go about picking them, counting how many you would need for a flower crown that would fit Astarion’s head and are relieved to find there are sufficient night orchids in the cave for your endeavour. Stashing them safely in your pouch, you turn to gather the others and head off to the Sharran dorms for some much needed rest whilst letting Shadowheart take back as much of her lost memories as possible. She deserved that, at least, for all she’d been through.

You claim the bed closest to the back corner of the room and begin work, praying that you remember how to make a flower crown and fortunately, muscle memory saves the day as your fingers weave flower after flower into a circular shape. It’s not the best looking flower crown you’ve ever made, being out of practice, but it’s certainly passable. You turn the delicate object in your hands, checking it over before glancing upwards. Astarion was arguing with Wyll about the bottle of wine he definitely stole despite his claims of innocence and the others were enjoying the show, save for Gale who was cooking tonight’s dinner.

Slipping out of your bed, you sneak over to Astarion’s bed to deliver the goods before walking up to the group as if nothing happened, breaking up the fight that was escalating with the announcement of food.

When Astarion throws back the covers to lie down, he finds a flower crown sitting atop a book he remembers seeing you read before and stares at them, resisting the urge to throw the covers up again to remove the illusion. Surely he was hallucinating or something, no one would deign to personally handcraft something so beautiful and delicate just for him. Or maybe the giver had placed them on the wrong bed, any of the others maybe except for Lae’zel would appreciate such a gift.

“Do you like it?” Your voice sounds behind him. He turns around, nearly dropping the blanket on the flower crown.

“It’s for me?” He asks, confused.

“Yeah. It’s on your bed, is it not? Did I make a mistake?” You frown.

“No, you placed it on my bed.” Had you made the flower crown for him? Why did you spend such precious time and effort on him? The thing of beauty was wasted on someone like him, it would have been better off in the hands of anyone else, even Karlach despite her probably reducing it to cinders before it could properly rest on her head.

“That’s a relief. I thought I had the wrong bed for a moment,” you smile. “Well, goodnight then, Astarion.”

Before he can say anything, you’ve headed off to your bed, leaving him alone with his swirling thoughts. He gingerly picks the crown up, checking to see if anyone is paying him any mind before slipping out of the dorm and putting it on when he deems it safe enough to do so. His gaze falls upon a nearby mirror and sadness clouds his eyes when he realises he won’t be able to see how he looks like with the flower crown. His reflection will forever evade him, not even the tadpole could keep it from running away.

“You really do look pretty wearing it.”

“Why, thank you, darling.” Astarion smiles, taking a little bow. The action causes the flower crown to slip and when he straightens, it’s lopsided.

“Concentrate on the tadpole. I want to show you how you look with the flower crown on.”

Astarion blinks.

“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. I hadn’t thought about using our tadpoles like this before until Gale pointed it out,” you huff. “I bet you haven’t thought about it either.”

“I —”

“Concentrate already.”

“As you wish, dearest.”

Astarion closes his eyes, concentrating on his tadpole’s connection with yours and when he opens his eyes, a pale silver haired elf stands before him, ruby red eyes piercing into his very soul. He really is pretty with the flower crown on, like you said. The dark blue colour of the night orchids stands in stark contrast against the silver of his hair, creating a halo of blue around his head.

When he next opens his eyes, he’s back in his own body, tears threatening to spill over.

“Thank you,” he manages to whisper, throat clogging up.

“You’re welcome,” you smile softly, reaching over to cup his cheeks. He closes the gap without hesitation, lips meeting yours in a dance of bliss and affection. The night lasts longer than usual, or maybe it was longer than a night but neither of you can tell from underground.

When Astarion heads back to his bed, he remembers the book that is still lying underneath its sheets — a book about flowers and their various meanings with a rather familiar bookmark sticking out of it. He flips to the marked page and the section is titled ‘Night Orchids’. At the end of the passage letters come together, forming a sentence that causes tears to cascade down his face.

Gift this sweet bloom to someone you believe is beautiful in their unique and special way.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #bg3 fluff #bg3 fic

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transmutationisms · 9 months

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I was reading your porn addiction post, and I just wondering what you consider addiction if not some sort of disease? I also think porn addiction and stuff in that vein is fake but I also can’t think that addiction is just people choosing to be that way even though they hate it. I say this as someone who was actually addicted to substances like I feel like there was something going on there that can’t be explained by the idea that addicts just choose to be like that. (I don’t think you think addicts just choose to be like that I just don’t really know any alternative schools of thought lol) I don’t mean this in an accusatory way I’m sorry if it comes off that way, I am genuinely curious what you think cause your posts are always so enlightening.

first of all you have to keep in mind that 'addiction' has no singular meaning. even if we confine ourselves to talking about psychoactive substances, 'addiction' can range from the 'classic' case of increasing, compulsive, self-destructive use, to cases where a person's usage may actually be stable in the long term but they're chemically dependent on the substance (think: the way doctors talk about chronic pain patients who are dependent on opioid painkillers; then compare to how they talk about psychiatric patients who are dependent on SSRIs. for example). you can get dx'd with a 'substance use disorder' purely on the basis of how much you take/consume, even if you don't feel it's causing impairment in your life, particularly if you let slip that someone else in your life has expressed concern or tried to stop you. race and class contribute to distinctions here as well, where certain people have leeway to be seen (even in a psychiatric setting!) as 'experimenting' with substances, or using them 'recreationally', where the same usage pattern in a person who's otherwise marginalised might be flagged as 'addictive' and in need of intervention. all of this gets even messier when psychiatrists and physicians try to justify applying discourses of 'addiction' to eating, gambling, sex, social media, and so forth. recall that 'addiction' in the roman republic and middle ages had contested legal and augural meanings that could be positive as well as negative, and that by the seventeenth century it was largely used as a reflexive verb with a predominantly positive meaning—as in, "we sincerely addict ourselves to almighty god" (thomas fuller, 1655) or, of plato, "he addicted himself to the discipline of pythagoras" (thomas hearne, 1698). it was not until the twentieth century that "addict" came to be widely used as a noun defining people who were passively suffering on a medical model.

i don't mean to be evasive here but to point out that asking "how do we define addiction besides a disease model?" presumes already that the disease model is the singular and inescapable way of understanding addiction in the first place—this is not true historically or presently. addiction is a muddled concept and has always involved moral discourses; attempts to present it as a 'pure' or 'objective' medico-scientific judgment are in fact recent and still unstable.

to the extent that it is useful to talk about addiction as a disease—that is, as a state of suffering that is imposed upon the sufferer, that is a disruption of a desired state of health and well-being—i think it is critical to keep in mind that such a disease is social as much as biological. you can start here by pointing out that substance use is often precipitated by the necessity of withstanding miserable life conditions (ranging from extreme poverty, domestic abuse, social marginalisation, &c, to the 'standard', inherently alienating and miserable conditions anyone endures in capitalist society). but there are other social factors that contribute to the presentation of substance use as compulsive, escalating, and self-endangering. eg, lack of a safe, steady supply is a huge factor here! when people are forced to rely on inconsistent, unregulated supplies to get high, this contributes greatly to drug 'binge' behaviours and endangers users. there is also the fact that drug users are often already marginalised (esp along lines of race, class, ability, &c) and are then further marginalised on the basis of being drug users. what would substance use look like in a society where using didn't relegate people to the social margins, or render them socially disposable? what if people had social supports, and weren't forced to toil away their entire lives at jobs that make them miserable for pay that's barely enough to live on? what sorts of patterns of substance use would we see then? so then, is it the drugs themselves that are the problem here, purely neurobiologically? or is there a larger story to tell about how people come to exist in such a state where substance use is increasingly hard for them to engage in with safeguards; where being a substance user causes them to lose whatever degree of social connection and support they may have had, which was often insufficient already; where they are often unable to integrate substance use into a full and connected life because they are told they must either give up enjoyment of a substance entirely, or be continually branded 'relapsing', 'non-compliant', 'dangerous', &c &c.....?

at the end of the day i don't think it's helpful or accurate to talk about addiction as a disease because it decontextualises drug use from all of these factors: why people do it, why it becomes harmful for some, why it's assumed we must simply 'stop' and 'resist' in order to 'get better'. disease explanations blame the substances themselves on a reductive bio-mechanical level (& again, this becomes especially untenable philosophically when we think at all about 'behavioural addictions'). the point here isn't to say that addicts are just blithely waltzing into addiction—or, indeed, to say that drug use is intrinsically a bad thing that should be avoided! it's a pretty typical feature of human existence that many of us enjoy consuming substances that alter our mental and physical states, and that's not inherently bad. when i push back against a disease model of addiction, i'm not invoking a model of personal responsibility or individual choice. i'm asking how we can understand drug use within a much broader social and historically contextualised frame, and how that can help people who are in many different states wrt drugs, from 'currently engaging in patterns of usage that feel compulsive and terrible' to 'never done a drug in their life'.

#drugs

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silvershiningtarot · 1 year

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PAC18+ Who Is Your FS? ❤️‍🔥🔥💎

💋take a moment to breathe 🧘‍♀️ Before I start this reading, I would just like to take a moment and say that I’m really going through it financially being unemployed and shit, I would love some bookings for readings even tips anyway that you can help I’ll truly appreciate guys thanks. Center yourself and choose through the photos. Choose the pile that pulls you in the most!

👉🏾9 Of Swords, Page Of Pentacles, and King Of Cups.

Pile 1: It seems that Your FS negatively self-talk themselves. I won't say that they don't have any confidence but they just need to pushher on themselves. It seems that your FS doesn't have good friends around them. They got bad negative people surrounding them that just wanna tear your FS down. I can feel them wanting to cry but they can’t. So they cry in silence. They have the 9 Of Swords Rx. I’m sorry to them. Now they are curious and adventurous. I think that your FS can be a Sagittarius or a Pisces. Either way, they love to travel. But people stump on their hearts and they will still forgive these friends. I can see them trying to balance their emotions. But few of your future Spouses are well-balanced with their emotions. A few of you. But some of you, your FS are having nightmares. They just wanna wake up from these bad nightmares. I'm not surprised that they are drinking. Probably partying too hard. They are manifesting new opportunities in their life and wants a new beginning. Ahhh!! I'm gagging yes. The Sun card. Wow, they are moving forward. They are slowly moving. Either way, I'm guessing that they are a Capricorn ♑ Moon or Sun. Probably because they are workaholics and they drown themselves in their work. Like that shit sucks. I'm sorry. See! VAMPIRE! Like OMG! I wanna cry for them. They are getting drained. I can hear them say “Nowhere I can't escape.” I feel so bad for them. I can see them go through a dark place. So they talk bad about themselves saying “They ain't shit”. That shit is fucking wack. I don't want to say this but whenever your FS is in a dark place these vampires come in and take advantage of them. They are wounded. They are such caregivers. They don't like to disappoint anyone. No one they'll sacrifice their own life if they have to. Make sure that their Friends are good. That's sad because they don't check up on themself. They are an extrovert. Yes! Their personality is out of this world, you probably never thought they can do those adventurous things. They would always keep surprising you. Ahh, what did I say? Achievers wow. They are workaholics. They will get the work done on that day. It seems that your FS is aggressive and dominant too. I think that when they are confident, Their Friends be scared 😱 of them. Don't know what to say to them. Even when they are mad, your FS gives people the cold shoulder and yes they can be childish and petty. But they don't like to get mad 😡. That shit cuts them to the cord. Your FS had once loved someone before but they had hurt them. Yes, they are a bit of a control freak. They like things a center way. They are romantic as well. They would draw you a bubble bath or they like to draw themselves a bubble bath. Light up some sexy candles 🕯️ and just relax. Ahh! Your FS is your star family 👪 you both come from the stars. You guys are spiritually connected. This FS is an old man not like Grandpa but older than you. Wow, again False Disguise. Again these fucking pretenders! See they are walking on eggshells with them. These friends don't want your FS to see them as fake ass friends but they are fake. They lied to them, steal from them, and gossip about them. It's like they drained their energy. Fucking asshole friends. Your FS has karmic debts with their friends and business partners is what I feel. They got a lot of karma with these partners. See! I was right. Co-workers, business partners, friendships, and lovers your FS got karma with these people. These lovers, business partners, and friends are wearing false disguises. They are very passionate lovers. I don't think they are Italian but they fuck like one. They are always horny. Always. The second they see you dirty thoughts run through their minds. I was right. Karmic Friends they got a big lesson with these friends. I was right, Drug Abuse! Geez probably popping pills or again they are partying hard. They love to take things slow. When you guys are together. It's a very slow pace with them. Very slow.

🔅7 Of Wands, Queen Of Pentacles, 4 Of Wands, and Judgement.

Pile 2: I can see that your FS is spiritually grounded or at least trying to be. I see that they are such nurtures, they like to comfort you. They like to be relaxed. So they'll keep you safe and secure. Wow, I think that they think about marriage or have a whole different perspective on marriage. In my opinion, Everything you do they wanna celebrate they love to be happy. Even for their enemies, they would be. They don't have enemies but they do have some bad people around them. I don't know if they know that they do. I can see that they do meditate a lot. I can see that when you both meditate you guys connected. Let me explain that. You guys visit each other while meditating. Ahh! What I say they are well-balanced or at least trying to be. I can see them manifesting you. I can see that they trying to avoid bad energy 🔋. I don't know if people using them. Yes! This FS is waking up. So again I believe that some people are waking on eggshells with them. This is a little tiny bit similar to pile 1. Wow, they probably are an Air sign. Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius. OR They have these placements in their chart. You knew them before in a past life and you guys have past life karma. I can see that. Lilith this makes me feel that they are probably a Lilith-dominant. They are sexy and they are not afraid to show off their beauty. Some of your FS is a pretty man. Or they got a body of a God. Very built they are. Works out a lot. I was right! People are walking on eggshells with them too. Their Friends are intimated by them. So they are aggressive and dominant. They don't play any games. They will confront issues if they see the issue is getting out of hand they will confront it. They are a bit of a control freak, I also sense a Taurus vibe from them. This FS is older than you. If I had to guess probably like 5-8 or 10 years old then you. They are dealing with a lot of false twin flames 🔥. Pretending that they are their twin flames but they are not. See they are draining their energy. Maybe some of you are probably not experienced. Some of you are virgins or not but you are going to lose your virginity to your husband. They are freaks in the sheets like they have sex outdoors. Probably lose your virginity outside. It won't be in the morning but at night I believe. They do have a romantic soulmate but in my opinion, you are their romantic soulmate, and vice versa. I think that your husband went through a lot of difficult situations in their life. Probably had a bad addiction or still going through an addiction. They don't feel like a man. I don't know what happened in their past. I will not dig into it but they probably suffer from depression. They emotionally eat. They are heavily passionate. They are heavily attracted. They would want that eternal love ❤️ but they have plenty of soul contracts with these false ass twin flames and other soulmates including you. For some of you, they probably are a big-bone husband. But they are good-looking no matter what size they are. Didn't I say that they are spiritually connected? Higher self. They are practicing self-control. Accepting the truth of what it is. They want a deeply happily ever after marriage. I believe exactly they want that. Solving issues, I think that they are making amends with these old friends and family too. They probably get cyberbullied by the media. Because of their platform, I believe that they get tease not in a good way. Maybe because of the way they look. Some of them might be too feminine or masculine or skinny or too big. People in the media are rude. I don't think your husband pays them no mind.

👏🏽3 of Wands, 2 Of Swords, King Of Pentacles, and 7 Of Pentacles

Pile 3: I can see that your FS got a lot of money. I think that they can be indecisive. Sometimes for them, I believe that they like routes to keep them grounded. I can see that they are slowly growing their abundance back up. They lose focus quickly so they stick to a routine to keep them focused. I don't blame them. It's hard for me to keep myself grounded as well. Yes, they have money. See they are older than you. But not far old I don't feel it for this one. With the 3 Of Wands, I can see them waiting for their creation to flourish. They are always planning something amazing and they wanna share. Look at that! 9 Of cups, I can see them waiting for their creation to burst out. They are so excited to make it known to the world. But they are being patient about it. They are manifesting. Death card makes me feel that they are rebirth themselves. The Sun ☀️ card I can see that they are so positive and they have their arms open wide. I sense that they are strong believers. Page of Pentacles I can see that they are adventurous and curious too. They are making plans for their new reality. Wow, they are a hot nerd and also good-looking. They got hot bodies👏🏾. Awe Cancer ♋ Maybe they are a Cancer Sun, Moon, or a Rising. Awww such a sweetheart. Yes, they are highly intuitive. I can see that they are visionary they can tell something will happen. This shadow Queen is very draining to them. She is dark! I can see that this lady or whoever she is. She is toxic to them and I can see she wants your FS and wants to drain them. Once they have you, they will cling to you instantly. High Roller! They are drop-dead GORGEOUS!!. Geez!! They are an Aries Sun, Moon, or Rising. For some of you, your FS can be an Aries and for a few of you, your FS can be a Cancer. Erotic, they are highly sexual. They are horny. I can see that they wanna be your Daddy. Lol 😆. Didn't I say that they would wanna be married? Their whole perspective changed about marriage. I can see people might be scared of them. Walking on eggshells it seems like all the piles of people are walking on eggshells doesn't mean that they ain't doing any sneak shit behind their backs. They made some mistakes and they are trying to make up for it. If some of you haven't gone to prom they'll make a prom for you or vice versa. They probably haven't gone to their prom. Ahh! Right now they are a fuckboy. They are a player. They are very charming and good-looking. I told you that They have a new perspective on things. Changing their mindset, seeing things as they are. Taking a huge step back and looking at things with clear eyes. They are healing their inner child. Watching movies, probably Disney movies, and doing childhood activities. They've isolated themselves from people. They don't like people who are not honest about their words. They go through depression 😭. Once they fall they fall hard. With all the false promises people lied to them or they are the unreliable ones. I believe that when they are depressed they neglect their wounds. They don't like to face their truth😒. It's hard for them to admit the truth. They would love to make their own family. They would want everything on their own. Their kids, their own friends, and their own businesses. They just want everything of their own. Nothing else. They wanna raise their kids how they want to. I believe that they are probably a rebel. They are a homebody. They love being at home. I told you that your FS is older than you.

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straylightdream · 1 year

Text

moonlight - 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧?

↳ even on your worst days he’s there for you.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, unprotected sex, slow emotional intercourse, lots of emotions.

𝐚𝐧: this is a part of a series of short one shots with all the skz boys that take place in the middle of the night. If you would like to join any of my Stray Kids taglist please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

The weight of the world feels like it’s on your shoulder. A rough day at work has left you a crying mess sitting on your bed. Working in retail isn’t glamorous, some days are better than others. Today consisted of two different customers yelling at you.

The sound of your bedroom door opening catches your attention. Looking up you push away your tears at the sight of Hyunjin walking into your bedroom. He doesn’t say anything, he just walks towards your bed and sits down next to you.

He looks at you and gives you a sad smile before resting his hand on your cheek. His thumb drags across your skin wiping away your tears.

“Rough day?” He says softly.

You nodded your head with his hand still on your cheek. Leaning forward he presses his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. After such a terrible day there is nobody you would rather be with than Hyunjin. Your lips move together and as his tongue glides across your bottom lip he helps push away all your negative thoughts.

Pulling away you rest your forehead against his and take a deep breath. You love this boy deeply and after a bad day you desperately need him.

“Baby,” he whispers.

“How did you know I had a bad day?” you’re curious on how he knew to come over.

“You didn’t answer my phone call and your text just seemed off,” he knows you so well. He’s been in your life for two years now and he knows you better than anyone. Not many people would be able to tell you were having a bad day just by what seemed like a normal text.

“I’m sorry I’m an emotional mess today,” he pulls away from you and slowly drags his thumb across your cheek brushing away your tears again.

“Don’t ever be sorry baby,” he gives you a soft smile. “How about we spent tonight cuddling?”

You can’t help the small smile that spreads across your face. He always knows all the right things to say to you. He brings you comfort nobody else truly can.

He moves away from crawling under the covers and signaling for you to join him. You curl up to close him with your head resting on his chest. He runs his fingers up and down your spine slowly.

Hyunjin touch is soothing for you and it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You sleep soundly and this is the most relaxed you have been in a long time.

The bed moves next to you waking you from your sleep. You look up and see the bed empty as Hyunjin is walking across your room.

“Where are you going?” You yawn slightly worried he might be leaving.

“I need to use the restroom real quick,” he says before walking into the bathroom. You stretch and look at the clock on your nightstand to see that it’s three in the morning. You aren’t ready to get up, you can’t wait for Hyunjin to come back to bed so you can cuddle with him again. You can’t help but wonder if Hyunjin let his Chan or any of the other boys know that he wasn’t going back to their place tonight. He walks back into your room and pulls his shirt off and his jeans and puts on the chair in the corner of your room. He walks back towards your bed with only a pair of boxers on.

“Did you tell the boys you’re here?” You ask as he crawls into your bed. The boy didn’t fully know what was going on with you and Hyunjin, but then again you weren’t very open with your relationship. “I told them I was staying with a friend,” he says pulling your body close to his so your back is pressed against his chest. His hand rests on your stomach as he presses his lips to your shoulder.

“I love you,” his lips ghost your skin sending a shiver down your spine. It’s the middle of the night and you’re oddly now extremely awake.

“I love you too,” lacing your fingers with his you roll your body back against his. A low moan passes his lips as butt brush against his groin.

His lips move to the side of your neck as he whispers, “can I make you feel good?”

“Please,” you murmur. There is nothing more in life you want at the moment than for Hyunjin to make you feel good.

He unlaces his fingers from yours and hands moves down your stomach towards your underwear. His fingertips brush under the hem of your underwear. Ever so slowly he slides a finger through your folds. He does lazy circles on sensitive bundle of nerves as lips continue to leave a trail of kisses on your neck. He knows all the right places to kiss to leave you moaning a mess. From the moment you started seeing him he made it his mission to learn all the ways to make your body tick.

You roll your hips back against him earning another moan. His moans are always sweet music to your ears.

It doesn’t take long before you have removed your underwear and Hyunjin is sliding into you slowly. He’s lifted your leg to give himself a better angle. Your head is rolled back resting on his chest. Your fingers are gripping the sheets as he thrust into you slowly. This position he has you in is one of your favorites. You feel so incredibly close and you love that.

The room is filled with the sound of your echoing moans and heavy breathing. With each roll of his hips a warmth spreads through your body. You roll your hips back meeting each of his thrust.

It doesn’t take long before you both find your high. He holds you close with your chest rising and falling.

“I really needed you,” you say softly.

“I’m always going to be here for you baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fanficion #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #Hyunjin x reader #Hyunjin smut #my writing #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin fanfiction #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagine #kpop smut #in the middle of the night

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pedgito · 2 years

Note

need a dacryphilia oneshot bc that answer you gave the other day still haunts me

author’s note: babe, it’s haunts me too. i hope this makes up for it…or haunts you further, whichever hehe

cw: 18+ (minors dni), dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, light praise, short but dirty i’m sorry

word count: 1.3k

Eddie had never been sure about what he liked—or loud about it even; it took him time to play the field and find out what worked and what didn’t. But, what he does discover is how open he is to almost anything, even the more obscure things that made him feel shy— almost embarrassed.

He liked being rough occasionally, the thought of throwing you around playfully, bending you to his will, hearing your desperate whine for relief—it was just as good as the slow sex, the languid strokes and lack of urgency in the way he kissed you, fucking you for as long as possible until you were both mere seconds from sleep.

He loves the intimacy of it—sex, relationships, the intense eye contact he held when he laid down in bed with you at night, whether it would lead to anything or not, he could stare, for hours. And it was never hard to stare right back, his soft doe eyes holding so much inside them. It made you wonder what was rattling around in his head all day and what calmed it in moments like this, his fingers tracing softly against the line of your jaw, dragging back and forth lazily.

And it makes him feel ashamed when he can’t hold back his arousal when he looks over at you on the couch one night, a sobbing mess from some terrible rom-com you had talked him into watching. He brings his knees up, adjusting himself sneakily as to avoid your curious gaze. It was wrong, so wrong—it’s what he kept telling himself.

You were sad and all he could think about was making you have the same reaction, though varying emotions, but a sobbing mess underneath him nonetheless. He feels horrible in the moment, but a few nights later it all clicks.

“Come on, one more.” He coos, lips pressed flush against your ear as he glances down, his two middle fingers buried inside you, grazing so effortlessly against the spot that had you seeing stars, body tingling from overstimulation, “For me, baby?”

“I can’t,” You reply breathlessly, eyes squeezed shut as you shook your head, gasping as he pulled out his fingers without warning, pressing them firmly over your clit, the slickness of you making the friction unbearable, “Eddie.”

He can’t tell if it’s a beg or a plea, but judging by the way your eyebrows pull together and almost melt into one, hands gripping desperately at the sheets underneath you, you were already almost there again.

“You can,” He encourages, “I wanna see that beautiful face fall apart again, wanna hear those sounds—fuck, you sounds so pretty when you come.”

And you do feel it, but it’s a horrible ache that breeches and quickly fades, your body fighting that urge because of exhaustion. You can’t focus, can’t think, and Eddie can see it written all over your face.

“It’s too much—“ You reply brokenly, eyes watering from Eddie’s persistence, your hand searching for his wrist, gripping it tight in desperation. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle it—you could, but Eddie had to find a way to coax you over that mental block. The tears flow without you realizing, eyes opening to look up at him.

You’ve never seen that reaction before—and maybe he senses he’s done something wrong, crying during sex or anything of the like wasn’t exactly ideal. For you, it’s always related to negativity. You’ve never cried from happiness or excitement, never from exhaustion or overstimulation like this.

“I’m sorry, nothing’s wrong—“ You quickly tell him, but he doesn’t even acknowledge, dragging his finger up to wipe away the tears.

“Feels that good, doesn’t it?” He gloats, rubbing over your cunt gently, causing a sharp gasp to slip from your mouth, eyes still locked on his, “Go on, sweetheart. Cry about it.”

It’s what he wants—he wants you to fall apart so he can put you back together. And right now, you want nothing more. But, his hands just aren’t enough.

“Need you inside me,” You beg, fingers slipping back the hem of his pants that hung loose around his hips, brushing against the soft patch of hair that started as his navel and led down, his hard cock pressing firmly against his jeans, “please, Eddie?”

Eddie grins salaciously, pulling away without question. He strips himself immediately, your body laying slack from all the energy that had been drained from you; though still, the view was great. Eddie climbs back onto the bed carefully, hand slipping behind your bag to urge you forward.

“I’m too tired,” You complain, “I can’t.”

Eddie nods encouragingly, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll do most of the work.”

You couldn’t really argue, letting him lead you over his lap as he settled himself against the wall, sitting upright and settling you down carefully, sliding into you with ease, though it’s overwhelming, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp as he leans your against him, one hand wrapped firmly around your back and the other on your hip.

“Look at me,” Eddie demands, “wanna watch you come, okay?”

As if that was possible. You nod wearily, forcing your eyes open, admittedly half-lidded with how exhausted you were.

“Don’t hold back, either.” He tells you, “Let it out, baby.”

The pace is harsh too, not at all the soft strokes that you’re more accustomed to—whatever devious plan Eddie had concocted, it was working. The tears flow again easily, almost instantly. It’s exactly what Eddie wants, for you to enjoy that overwhelming feeling and let it happen. He lifts your pliant body, face held close to your chest as he peered up at you, lips grazing your neck, hot breath cascading down.

“That’s right,” Eddie says, feeling a little cocky, “only I can make you feel this good.”

You nod dumbly, fingers digging into his hair as you tugged slightly, Eddie’s eyes glinting in the low light. He smirks.

“Say it, sweetheart. Who makes you feel this good?”

“You,” You reply softly, attempting to wipe at your tear stained face, but Eddie’s hand catches your wrist, giving you a subtle shake of his head, “it’s you.”

“Fuck, I don’t deserve you.” Eddie confesses, feeling his own orgasm on the rise, the emotion on your face feeding into that primal urge he had, the prior shame nowhere to be found.

You can’t respond, his hand slipping between you to rub at your swollen bundle of nerves—Eddie knows what he wants, he knows that you want it too, and he’s determined.

“Just relax,” He soothes, “It’s just two, what’s one more, baby?”

And it hits you hard, teetering on the edge of blacking out as your eyes fall shut, squeezing the tears from your eyes as you sobbed again, falling against Eddie for support.

He comes almost immediately after, thrusts slowing to a stop as he runs at your back, groaning softly through it. He’s never been loud necessarily, unless he’s purposely trying to put on a show. This feels deeper than any sex you’ve had with him prior, feeling like you had just laid your entire mind and body out to him, his soft encouragements being the reason you felt so transcendent right now, heaving in slow, heavy breaths.

“Are you okay?” He asks after a while, rubbing gentle patterns into your back. “Was that too much?”

“God, no,” You sigh, “That was—it was so fucking good, Eddie.”

He chuckles softly, adjusting you slightly until he could pull out, helping you settle beside him on the bed, both of you too tired to stand. He rubs gently at your eyelids, eyes falling shut. They were irritated from the crying, puffy around the edges.

“Is that your thing now?” You ask playfully, “Making me cry?”

Eddie grins wide, a small laugh coming out.

“As long as it’s the good kind.” Eddie assures you, “Only the good kind.”

Please consider leaving a comment or reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #my writing #tw dacryphilia #1kfic

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