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#he likes them so that’s good enough for me
screampied · 1 day
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‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’
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ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?
wc. 5.7k
warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.
an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)
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sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .
the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..
you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.
“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”
“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”
“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”
“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”
you were taken aback at how blunt he was.
a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.
you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.
“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”
they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.
“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”
“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”
“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.
sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”
“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”
your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.
a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”
“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”
“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.
toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”
and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.
not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.
the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.
inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.
“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.
sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.
you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”
“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”
sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.
“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”
“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.
he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”
you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.
you gulp, damn.
he wasn’t just big, he was huge…
your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.
staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.
“spit the fuck on it.”
five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.
you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.
once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.
“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.
“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.
“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”
your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.
“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.
“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”
one turns into two, then three, then four. . .
your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.
you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.
toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.
“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.
you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.
soaking, sopping wet,
three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.
the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”
you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”
“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.
“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.
idiots.
your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.
“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”
your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”
“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.
“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”
sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.
“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”
sukuna glares.
“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”
“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”
easy, sure.
with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.
he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”
“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”
“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.
you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.
who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?
“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”
toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.
“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.
so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”
“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”
you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”
“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..
toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.
“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”
sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”
you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”
“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”
you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.
“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”
he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”
“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.
with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”
“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”
“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”
“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”
still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.
“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.
you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”
toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.
when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.
“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”
“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”
toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.
he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”
he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.
“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.
you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”
toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”
“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.
“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”
sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.
“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”
“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.
toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”
“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”
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lymtw · 2 days
Text
Toji in a fresh relationship with you, where he notices how uncomfortable and anxious you are when you're alone with him. You can't hold his gaze without giggling nervously and blushing like crazy, and you can't stand when you can feel him watching you. It doesn't bother him. He usually meets your little giggle fits with a "what're you giggling about now? Huh?" a smirk on his face as he watches you try to compose yourself.
You noticed through your peripheral vision that Toji is looking at you. Your heart starts beating faster and faster, but you try to focus on the movie, anyway. Toji knows you caught on to him watching you, though. He saw your quick little side eye towards him before going back to the movie.
"Loosen up," his deep voice interrupts your "focused" bearing. "Why're you so nervous?" His hand settles on your knee, his thumb slowly stroking the area. It was meant to soothe your nerves, but really it just made your stomach errupt with butterflies.
"I'm okay," you say, your mouth incredibly dry. You turn your head as he scoots closer to you on the couch. "'M I okay to sit here?" He asks, watching the way you pull your hand away from between you and him, into your lap. His hand returns on you, this time on your thigh.
"You're shaking," he points out with a knowing smile on his face.
You have to think for a second before responding. Your ears were buzzing, your heart would not settle, you were truly in a daze whenever Toji was around.
"Just a little cold," you lie. "I'm fine, though." You return the soft smile, turning your focus back to the movie.
"Then come here. What are you sitting so far from me for?" He puts an arm over your shoulders, pulling you tight against him.
Your body goes rigid in his hold. He's like a furnace, and the heat emmanating from his body was enough to make you feel like you were overheating. His scent was wet dream fuel—intoxicating and addicting. It was strong enough for you to start manifesting his appearance in your dreams, with the most lewd and unholy intentions.
His fingers stroked your arm, eliciting goosebumps on your forearms and your thighs. He can tell your attention isn't on the movie anymore. Your leg is bouncing, your knee occasionally knocking against his.
"What are you so nervous about, sweetheart? C'mon, talk to me." You can hear the amusement in Toji's tone. He pauses the movie, demanding your attention, but you don't even know where to start. There are so many things and yet you can't get a single one of them out.
"You don't like hanging out alone with me?"
"I do," you answer, instantly, trying to avoid hurting his feelings. You clasp your hands together in an attempt to relax.
"Then what's the problem, pretty?" He watches as you sit quietly, looking down at your lap. "Look at me." Your eyes slowly meet his, the eye contact giving you the illusion of being swallowed whole. "What is it?"
Your hands unclasp and your fingers start fidgeting with one another. "You're very attractive..." you mumble, basically inaudible to Toji.
"One more time for me, doll," he says, asking you to repeat yourself. He leans in to listen closely.
"You're... very attractive," you hesitantly repeat, this time with enough volume for Toji to hear you.
He's trying so hard not to laugh at how embarrassed you look at your admission, but it's not possible when you look so ashamed for saying it out loud.
"You're attracted to me, so you shrink?" He asks, the wide smile left behind from his laughter not diminishing.
You nod, your hands coming up to your face to cool down your burning cheeks. Toji finds the glossiness in your eyes adorable.
"So, I'm the one scaring you?"
"No...? I don't know..." You look away from Toji.
"You don't know." He chuckles. He knows it's him, but he won't let up because he's having a damn good time making you coil in on yourself. "Let me tell you something, doll face." He turns his whole body towards you, his leg bent on the couch. The movement causes you to lean back, adding space between you and him. His eyes flit between your eyes and your lips. "You are stunning. There's way too much to appreciate on that little mug of yours." He grins at the blush on your cheeks. "There's no need to be so shy around me. I'm not gonna eat you." He leans in again, taking up the whole space you made between you and him. "At least not yet."
Your heart dropped to your guts. You weren't sure you'd make it through the night without having a heart attack.
"You wanna kiss me, don't you?" His eyes center on yours, and you giggle, a valid response to his question. He smirks knowing the meaning behind your reaction. "I have eyes, babe. There's really no use denying it."
The closer he moves towards you, the more you feel like screaming. You know a good scream would relieve a whole lot of tension for you, but what would that look like to Toji?
"I-I do..."
"Then come here. Why are you leaning away?" He lets out a deep chuckle. "I'll lead if you want."
"Fine," you surrender.
Toji sighs, contentedly. "Just don't move. I'm serious, pretty girl. You move, and i'll bring the cuffs out."
You crack a grin, one that evolves into a laugh after a few seconds.
"Kidding, ma. Just wanted to make you laugh." He grins.
You don't even notice how close he's sitting until you stop laughing. You stare at each other in silence, his eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips again.
"Just relax and-"
You lean in this time, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. It's like a zap of electricity to your entire body when you feel his lips against yours. They're warm, and surprisingly soft. He doesn't shove his tongue into your mouth, which you're grateful for. That's for later on. You just couldn't wait any longer. Waiting was making you even more anxious, so you dived into the moment.
"Oh, sweetheart," he almost groans. "You'll drive me insane if you keep up the shy girl act," he mutters against your lips. "I know you want me like I want you, so quit making me beg." He moved closer towards you, knowing you'd back away, eventually meeting a dead end with your back against the couch. Your eyes told him everything he needed to know. You were lusting over him and you wanted him to get you.
You looked up at him with starry eyes, your cunt throbbing at the way he watched you closely. You watched as he quickly invaded your personal space, his body wedged between your legs, making them spread wider to accomodate his size difference.
"What are you so scared of? Don't you want me?" His hands fiddled with the hem of your shirt. His knuckles grazed your lower abdomen a couple times, making your heart race.
"I-I do, Toji." Your focus went to his crotch rubbing up against you as he leaned in.
"Yeah, you do?" He purred beneath your ear, allowing his lips to meet the sensitive skin of your neck after.
"Fuck," you whimper. "I do."
"You wet for me?" He asks, moving his lower body enough to make you believe he's just balancing himself, but still giving you the friction that's making you lose your composure.
"Mhm," you hum, breathing erratically as he kisses up the column of your neck, towards your chin.
"Can I check?" He murmurs, nipping at your jawline. You shut your eyes, your teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as another blissed out "mhm" leaves you.
His hand slides down your waist, moving towards the center of your stomach where he continues sliding down until his fingers go under your pants' waistband. He feels the elastic band of your underwear, his fingers maneuvering beneath it as well. You gasp when you feel his fingers dip lower until he's tracing your slippery folds. His dick twitches at the amount of arousal drooling out of you.
"You're bad, mama." He sighs, listening to your little breaths as he teases you. How long had you been turned on to be this wet? "Were you gonna keep this from me had I not been so persistent?" His middle and index fingers glide up and down your slit.
You let out a moan when he started rubbing your clit, his rough pads giving you more friction than anything you've ever felt.
"Answer me." His dark, green eyes bore into your closed ones. "Were you gonna get yourself off once I left?"
"Y-Yes! Yes, Toji," you cried out, writhing beneath him. "Didn't wanna tell you. It's embarrassing," you whine.
He chuckles. "That why you were on edge earlier? 'Cause you were on the edge of cumming, untouched?"
You nod, rolling your eyes open to meet his gaze. Your lust-filled gaze made chills run up his spine, the sight borderline sinful. He cups your jaw with his free hand, his grip tight as he stares into your constellation eyes. "Look at me like that again and i'll fuck you 'til you can't see straight. You hear me?" He was fighting the urge to bust his load into his jeans. It was already hard enough having to watch you as you fell apart on his fingers, but now you were giving him "fuck me" eyes, and it got ten times harder.
His threat only brought your orgasm closer. He had never spoken to you that way before. It had your stomach filling to the brim with butterflies, but you responded with a moaned "uh-huh", anyway.
"T-Toji, I'm gonna cum. More, please," you whimpered.
"Aren't you a sensitive little thing? Didn't even have to finger you to make you cum."
"Oh, fuck-" you cry out, cut off by Toji's hand.
"Shh... I know, I know, sweet girl," he coos, his fingers teasing you down at your entrance. "Gonna cum? Make a pretty mess on my fingers, hm?" He mumbles, his lips returning to your neck.
You hum, sultrily. Your arms are stretched above your head, your nails digging into the armrest of the couch. You arch your back off the cushions, loud gasps released into the air when Toji releases his hold on your mouth. You slowly roll your hips into Toji's hand, chasing the friction against your cunt.
"Fuck, baby. You feeling yourself?" His cock is throbbing at the sight of you looking so careless. Your face is aimed up, your lips parted as you release all the sounds of pleasure that you're capable of. His fingers go back up to your clit, the pad of his middle finger rubbing rapidly at the nub. It was driving you insane, how close you were to cumming on his fingers. Your stomach caved with every breath you inhaled and your whole body trembled as you treaded over the edge of your devastingly powerful orgasm.
Toji watched as you writhed beneath him, his lidded eyes taking in your contorted features as you cried out in overwhelming pleasure. He leaned in to kiss up your neck again, really just wanting to be closer to the source of the sounds filling the room. "So fuckin' pretty," he trilled into your jaw. Your soft little grunts reached his ears, turning to whines as you tried to wriggle away from the stimulation. He didn't miss the way your thighs clamped around his torso, signaling that his touch was getting to be too much. "Alright, alright. Had enough?"
You nod, a huff leaving you as he slowly takes his hand out of your underwear.
You sigh after catching your breath, feeling enlightened and satisfied. You giggle when you see Toji's staring at you. "What?"
"It's gonna be my mouth next time." His hands are on your hips, massaging deep circles into the material of your pants. "M gonna taste you on my tongue, and I want all that wetness on my lips and your cum all over my face, instead of my fingers."
"You're so vulgar, Toji," you say, with a smile on your face. You're unaware of how big the hearts in your eyes are when you look at this man.
He sighs as he lays down on you, his body weighing you down. He looks up at you, his chin resting on your chest. "How can you expect any different when you look like hell's favorite sinner when you cum?" He exhales through his nose, thinking of the look on your face that is now engraved into his mind. His dick could become a huge problem if he thinks about it for too long. "For real, doll, I wanna see that again but with my face between your legs."
You giggle to yourself, wishing the comment didn't have you blushing like you were. Your whole body was heating up.
"You're not gonna run when I get close to you next time, right? Gonna be a good girl for me?" He smirks at the twitch of your thighs around him.
"No, i'll be good. I promise."
"That's right, baby. I'll be looking forward to it," he says before burying his face into your breasts.
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fabian is such a sweetie and he will not convince me otherwise. genuinely there’s no reason for him to make up with gertie bc the rest of them have enough good standing with her to work with her, he fully did that for kristen. the way he approached it too, wasn’t like “oh im gonna get her off my back so we can deal with the honey thing” no it was pure good soul lou wilson shining through fabian going “hey if there’s even a BUMP on this road to love for my friend because of me? i’m repaving the entire fucking street lets go”
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radiance1 · 2 days
Text
"I need to find my darling husband!" Said Danny, dressed to the nines in a very elaborate royal dress with a lot of jewelry running through the ballroom after having been on the opposite end of a very worrying phone call.
"Seriously, what do you even see in that mortal!?" Screamed an observant and Danny stopped and leveled them with a glare cold enough to freeze over an active volcano and sharp enough to cut through obsidian.
"He makes me laugh."
Unlike those dead suitors went unsaid, but everyone at the ball (read: search for a bride/groom for the royal ghostling) practically heard it anyways.
Meanwhile over in the land of the living
Okay so Jason may have messed up. Now you see, he hasn't seen his platonic husband for tax benefits in a while, and he's been very careful to not let his identity as the Red Hood slip up before . Not even once in their relationship.
(He's not counting the time his in-laws sniffed him out as a Crime Lord, because Danny never believed them.)
Now, it wasn't exactly his fault he slipped up. You try to fight off an entire group after being pulled up on out of nowhere on the phone while trying to hide said noises of fighting.
Who was he calling? Danny of course since he said he was away for business. What business? Never specified and Jason wasn't going to pry.
So now here he was, bound 'helplessly' as Jason Todd along with a few other random civilians. Which, like, rude.
Wasn't he already good enough for this ancient ritual or whatever?
You know, he really should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device" he got that one time. Which honestly he feels like he should be surprised that such a thing exists but considering it was from Bruce. Well.
He's not surprised.
Oh, there's the Justice League now. Shame, he wanted to knock out a few guys himself- Oh, now he's being used to summon a ghost from the Infinite Realms of Royal Lineage.
Yea he probably should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device."
Wait a goddamn-
Is that-
"My darling husband!" Danny shouted, scooping him off the circle and away from the head cultist and swinging him around. "You had me worried sick!"
Now, he should ask the question anyone would in this situation when finding out your best friend and platonic husband for tax benefits was apparently a ghost of royal lineage.
"Why're you in a dress?"
"Okay, first of all I rock this thing." Danny huffed.
"That you do." Jason agreed rather easily.
"Second of all, blame those guys over there." He jerked his head in the direction of two very green floating eyeball people.
Not the weirdest he's seen, honestly.
The Observants were whispering to each other and leveling them-Jason in particular-a look.
"Now as you can see, I already have a spouse and I don't need another!" Danny hugged Jason closer for emphasis and he took the time to whisper in Danny's ear. "Did you really marry me to play the husband card?"
"Well, yes." Danny agreed. "But also because of taxes, because I love you and you're my best friend."
"So, we're still done for watching that movie right."
"Obviously."
A pained grunt came from below them and they both looked down to see Batman standing over a very unconscious cultist and looking up at them.
Hm.
He forgot they were there.
"So," Jason began, staring Bruce straight in the eyes. Batman's eyes narrowed. "Don't suppose we can push that forward to right now?"
"Yea, sure why not I'm not doing anything important." Danny leveled the Observants a look, and before either they, Batman, or the Justice League could do anything they both disappeared.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 days
Text
strange perfections
in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!
fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses
The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 
Stupid scarf, you think. 
Stupid door. 
Stupid wind. 
Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 
You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 
Stupid Lord Byron. 
Stupid cafe. 
Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 
One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 
Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 
Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 
Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 
Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 
As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 
It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 
Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 
“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 
“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”
The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 
“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”
You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 
Think of something normal to say!
“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”
You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.
“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”
You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?
“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”
He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 
“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”
Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?
But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 
“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”
He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 
All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 
Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 
“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 
“How did you do that?” 
His cheeks turn slightly pink. 
“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”
“How did you read that fast?”
“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”
You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 
“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”
The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 
“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”
Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 
“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”
“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 
“Does that make it better?”
“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”
You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 
“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 
“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”
“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”
He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 
He was totally in love with me. 
And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 
All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 
The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 
I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 
What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 
“Hi,” he says. 
“Hi!”
Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 
He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 
Spencer. Spencer. 
It feels important. 
“I see you’ve upgraded.”
“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”
“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 
Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 
Spence. 
Reality sets in. 
“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”
It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 
“I am a creature of habit.”
Another wave as he walks away. 
The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 
“Who was that?” 
“Uh… I don’t actually know.”
Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 
Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 
Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 
Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.
But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 
He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 
This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 
“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”
 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 
Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 
“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”
You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?
While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 
“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 
“Uh… hi?”
“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”
“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”
That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 
“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”
“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”
“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”
What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—
“Garcia!”
Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 
Adorable? Get a grip. 
“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”
“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 
You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?
“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.
“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”
“Yeah! Um, definitely!”
“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”
“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”
“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 
Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 
So that’s cool. 
You’re cool with that. 
Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 
“Hotch?”
“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 
“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 
Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 
You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 
Nah. Boys are dumb. 
You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 
It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?
But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 
He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 
Weird.
You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?
“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”
It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 
He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 
“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”
“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”
“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”
“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”
He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 
“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”
It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 
“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”
“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”
Your brow furrows and you laugh. 
“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”
“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”
You say it before you can think too hard. 
“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”
And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 
After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 
One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.
It ceases. And then it starts again. 
Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 
“Do you think you should…”
His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 
“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”
You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 
But his job is important. 
“What if you have a case?”
“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”
Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   
“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”
As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 
“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”
Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 
You balk.
“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”
“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”
“Where would this hanging out take place?”
Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 
“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”
He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 
“Restaurants.”
There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.
“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”
You look down. God, your face feels warm. 
“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”
Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 
“I would.” 
More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 
Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 
“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”
“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”
Spencer chuckles. 
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”
Not, what?
Not, you’ve never been on a date before?
Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?
With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 
He says none of that. 
“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 
“Sounds like a good first step.”
Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.
“I’d love to.”
He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 
“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”
His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 
“I should—”
“You definitely need to go.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”
You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 
“I don’t—”
“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”
He’s so weird. 
A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 days
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hiiii
okay so this is completely random but i saw this thing about how female octopuses throw seashells at male octopuses that bother them and it just made me immediately think of monster!konig and his wife who constantly tries (and fails) to reject his advances
Being a mermaid in the same territory as the one that old eldritch horror hybrid has claimed is a very tough life. You can't even swim out of your enclosure, a small, cozy cave in the middle of nowhere, without his pawing at your body and trying to get his eggs inside of you. It's not even mating season, you think - but it's always mating season with him. Konig never had the chance to breed in the last 100 years, and so he is desperate. Enough to start snatching any compatible egg host without as much as asking their opinion. He likes you, and is making it your problem. But, even the eldritch horror is a gentleman at heart - and he has three of those, actually. He allows you a couple weeks of gentle courting when he swims to your cave and tries to give you gifts while you collect garbage and sea shells to throw at him in a feeble attempt to tell him off. You're never successful, but you try your best. Yelling st him, punching him, throwing stuff at him - Konig still thinks it's a really nice mating strategy, as you show off your strengths to your future mate. He likes it. Really, really likes it. You still resist when he is finally done being courteous and just snatches you down to his cave instead. It's dark and murky and you hate being here, but he pushes you down and keeps you there with his tentacles - there isn't a lot of options when you're pinned and held as strong as possible. You hate every second of it, but his affection is relentless. Dangerous. It's natural to submit to a strong mate, but you're still trying to resist, and it makes him laugh. Such a strong little mermaid, still trying to say you're independent and strong. Adorable, he thinks. You're even cuter when he finally pushes you down and feels you to the brim with his eggs. Your resistance is adorable as you scream and moan, not able to push him away. God, you're too good for him. He makes sure that you know this as well.
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rreids · 3 days
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SHOW ME • S. REID X READER
gn reader with female anatomy; smut; guided masturbation; unprotected sex w/ no mention of contraceptives (do not do what they do); dirty talk; ~1.4k words
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“Spencer?” You ask softly, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater over you. Your hair drips water onto the shirt and the floor. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”
His brows raise. “That was the plan, wasn’t it?”
It was, it still was, but you’d thought of him while you were in the shower. Imagined that your hands were his, soaping your skin and sliding over your breasts and the curves of your ass hips. You didn’t want innocent cuddles, it wouldn’t be enough for you.
You swallow. “I mean in another way,”
Spencer sits up. “Sit,” he pats the mattress and you oblige, folding your legs under your and folding your hands politely on your thighs. He tilts your head up to face him, studying you so intently you want to look away. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”
“Thought about how good your hands would feel.” You whisper out the words in a rush. “Mine aren’t good enough anymore, I— I keep—” you sigh and look down. “I keep thinking about you when I get off because nothing else works anymore.”
He hums. “So you’re frustrated?” When you nod vigorously, he sighs, skimming his fingers over your collarbones. “Baby, you have to be sure you want this. I don’t want you to regret it tomorrow.”
You whine, frustrated with him now. “I’m sure, Spence, I’ve thought about you for weeks, but showering — using your body wash and smelling like you, I couldn’t help it… but it wasn’t enough because I knew you were right outside the door — and I—, I just want you.” 
Your emphasis on the last word is what gets him.
Spencer leans back and your heart sinks before you see how blown out his eyes are. “Lean against the headboard.”
You scramble to move where he wants and stare at him, wide-eyed, as he creeps a hand under the sweatshirt and pushes it up to your stomach. You squirm. You’re wearing old and worn panties, but he doesn’t seem to mind — if he does, he doesn’t comment. “Spence?”
His heavy stare moves to your face. “Show me what you do when you think of me.”
“But I want you to touch me,” you whine, face burning as he spreads your legs further apart. “Please?” You soften your voice and smile at him sweetly.
“I will. Show me what you like first,”
“But…” your voice shakes with embarrassment and jitters, both excited and humiliated for him to see you like this. “What do I do?”
Spencer settles further, and you swallow at the sight of his hardening cock in his sweatpants. “Do whatever you want, sweetheart. If you show me what feels good, I can do it too.”
You sigh and nod, carefully guiding your hand towards your panties, scraping your nails over your stomach just hard enough to make you shudder. Spencer’s attention fills you with heat. Your fingers slip from teasing yourself over the fabric and into your underwear once his tongue darts out over his lips, tempting and so far away.
When you circle your clit, the muscles in your thighs twitch.
“You look so pretty,” he coos, and you whine in the back of your throat. “Do you just use your hands?”
“No, I— I use toys, sometimes,” your breath hitches and your hips stutter as you press with more force. “‘S not enough, Spence.”
“We’ll make it enough,” he moves to your side. “I want you to take your panties off.”
You hurriedly kick out of them, arching up into his touch as he slides your sweatshirt off too, lingering just a little too long on your breasts.
“I want you to do this,” he gropes your breast, flicking and twisting the nipple and kneading the soft flesh, “with your free hand while you get yourself ready for me.” You hum, hand moving up to cover where his had been. 
It’s so much better, just from this. The scent of his cologne envelopes you in more heat, and your hips grind helplessly against your palm.
“Add a second finger,” he sounds far away, and you manage to open your eyes and look at him. His face is flushed at the peaks and, oh, he’s straining against his sweatpants enough that you see a wet spot. “Good, baby, you’re doing so well.” He whispers when you comply.
The sounds of your wetness fill the room, sloppy and needy, and it only furthers your desperation. Without his order, you add a third finger, back arching as the pressure builds in your stomach.
“Listen to yourself,” Spencer murmurs, voice filled with wonder. You’re gasping and heaving shaky breaths, cut with small moans. “So pretty.”
“Spencer—” you whine, voice breaking on the second half of his name. “Please.”
“Shh,” he soothes. “You’re doing so well. Let go for me,”
You see him palming himself over his sweats and that’s what does it for you, quivering as your orgasm crashes into you. You keep working yourself through it until you feel too sensitive.
“You looked so pretty,” he whispers, bending down to finally kiss you. It’s the hungriest his touch has ever been, barely restrained animalistic desire as he swallows your breaths and presses against you more urgently. It’s mind-numbing, the press of his lips to yours and the heat of him so close, how his breath fans over your cheek for just a moment before he dives back in for more.
“Spencer, Spencer,” you whisper between his kisses, whining at the rub of his shirt over your nipples as his chest flattens to yours. 
“Hmm?” He doesn’t seem too interested in what you have to say, kissing the column of your throat and sucking a mark right below your ear. Your head lolls back as he soothes it with his tongue, and you paw restlessly at his shirt, wanting his flesh sticking to yours from the heat and sweat.
“Please… I need you,” Spencer smiles at that. “Do whatever you want, just… fuck, I need you.”
Spencer groans, lips crashing into yours again. He only pulls back to tug off his shirt, and you immediately run a hand over his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. 
He undresses hurriedly, rubs a soothing hand over the curve of your hips. “Can you spread your legs more for me?”
You do, whimpering at the sight of him so close to you. Every part of him is even more beautiful than you dreamed, and you want it so badly. Spencer groans softly as he presses into your warm heat, taps your thighs. “Now wrap them around me.”
When he’s fully flush to you, you realize he’s forced an angle into your g-spot, whimpering with each slow, powerful thrust into you.
“Spence, more, I can take it.”
“I know.” His brow furrows in concentration. “But I don’t know if I can, I’m—” he hisses when you clench around him. “Embarrassingly close. You feel so good.”
“Yeah?” You ask, breathless and high-pitched. “Bet you’ll be so pretty when you cum for me, Spence,”
He curses under his breath, picking up the pace. You’re fluttering around him, dangerously close to another orgasm. His brows are pinched, mouth dropped unconsciously, sweat rolling down his temple. You especially admire the veins in his arms, the way his muscles flex as he holds you down to the mattress.
“Spencer!” You cry and he moans in response, leaning down and locking his lips to yours. His hips stutter as you cum around him, and he fucks you through the aftershocks for both of you, whining high-pitched and quietly with each thrust as he twitches in you, spent.
“God, fuck,” Spencer gasps, trying to steady his breathing. “You’re so good.”
You whine and push him to pull out and get off of you before nuzzling against his chest. His fingers begin playing with your hair, almost mindlessly, soothing you as you come down. “Better than anything I imagined,” you mumble. “I’m going to jump you constantly, you know that?”
“As long as I don’t cum in like, two minutes, next time.” Spencer grumbles. “I feel like a teen again.”
“So I make you feel like a teenager in love?” You grin up at him, chin pressing into his chest. He pulls you up towards him and kisses you softly.
“You know you do.”
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i dont like this one very much </3 sorry </3 as always not proofread
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msgexymunson · 2 days
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The Ink Shop Part 2
Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it? 
Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.
A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars. 
❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️
7k words 
Masterlist Part 1
For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier. 
Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile. 
“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”
You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.” 
“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.” 
Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station. 
Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.
The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes. 
“I see London, I see France…” 
You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display. 
“Eddie!” 
He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple. 
“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-” 
His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent. 
“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you. 
“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side. 
“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you. 
Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.” 
“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?” 
Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him. 
You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”
If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.
Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek. 
But that just makes his smile wider. 
“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you. 
“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door. 
“Good afternoon, can I help you?” 
“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?” 
“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?” 
You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world. 
At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone. 
So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about. 
As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff. 
“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.  
“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment. 
You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care. 
“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you. 
“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air. 
“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?” 
Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand. 
“Shit princess, what did you do at college?” 
“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you. 
“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.” 
In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat. 
Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear. 
“Good girl.” 
Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.
For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie. 
The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines. 
Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served. 
Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes. 
“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card. 
“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin. 
“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out. 
“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.
You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,” 
He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you. 
Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”
“May I have a beer, please?” 
“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.” 
Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!” 
Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.” 
As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.
“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink. 
“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being. 
“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully. 
“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure, shoot.” 
Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.” 
Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery. 
“Oh princess, you are too cute.” 
Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks. 
“What? What is it?” 
Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.” 
“What, like, kissing?” 
Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.” 
Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer. 
Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?” 
His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar. 
“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.” 
“Oh.”
Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.
“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now. 
“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together. 
“Liar.” 
Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks. 
“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?” 
He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.” 
“I know that, I mean…” 
For a second he just gapes at you. 
“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?” 
Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.” 
Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?” 
“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing. 
Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?” 
“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.” 
He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.” 
That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand. 
“Please?” 
“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment. 
“Fine. Right now.” 
“Oh I didn't-” 
“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.” 
Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him. 
“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes. 
‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely. 
“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”
Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.
“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs. 
For a second you stop in sheer surprise. 
“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?” 
He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.” 
You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified. 
“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.” 
“Eddie!” 
He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you. 
“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside. 
Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.
“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head. 
“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door. 
“No, no, it's very… you.” 
“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious. 
“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar. 
“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-” 
“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.” 
You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.” 
Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway. 
The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if- 
“You can sit down, princess.” 
Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet. 
“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you. 
“No I- I was- maybe this-” 
“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle. 
“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.” 
“But i haven't showered-” 
“When did you last?” 
“Well… this morning.” 
“You're fine. Trust me.” 
He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together. 
“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.
He'll break your heart. 
“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.” 
A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns. 
“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?” 
Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head. 
“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra. 
He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?” 
Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck. 
“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.” 
He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.” 
Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 
“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.” 
Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.” 
Staring at you, he shakes his head.
“You should. You should be told every fucking day.” 
You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair. 
It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.
“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.” 
It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes. 
His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip. 
“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need. 
“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him. 
He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?” 
As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear. 
“Fuck, look at you.” 
The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms. 
“Don't hide from me. You still want this?” 
You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him. 
“Say it. You need to say it.” 
‘Yes, please Eddie.” 
That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex. 
“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.” 
“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands. 
“Relax princess, it's a compliment.” 
Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture. 
The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom. 
He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line. 
Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real. 
“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?” 
“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!” 
You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure. 
Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed. 
Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick. 
“You OK princess?” 
OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup. 
“Think you can go again?” 
That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?” 
Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling. 
“I think you've got at least one more in you.” 
Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up. 
“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.” 
This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him. 
You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched. 
“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do. 
With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment. 
After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin. 
“So? Good?” 
It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek. 
“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden. 
For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose. 
“That's not part of the deal.” 
Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile. 
“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs. 
“Stay here. I'll take the couch.” 
“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-” 
“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip. 
“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.” 
“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him. 
“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.” 
“You'd probably like that,” you tease. 
“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.” 
“Night Eddie.” 
When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling. 
Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down? 
Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?
After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions. 
Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything. 
As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond. 
There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head. 
Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.
You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements. 
A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs. 
Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example. 
Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more. 
It looks like it's going to be a long night. 
********************
“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.” 
It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine. 
“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth. 
“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table. 
The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early. 
“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly. 
“Morning, can I help you?” 
“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you. 
Face lighting up, you fix your best smile. 
“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID? 
He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride. 
“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?” 
Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles. 
“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself. 
When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting. 
“You're not my 10:30.” 
The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong. 
“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder. 
Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter. 
“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.” 
Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.
“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?” 
He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes. 
Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves. 
There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda. 
Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear. 
“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.” 
“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat. 
“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?” 
Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension. 
“Hey, keep it at home guys.” 
Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip. 
“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie. 
“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.
You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window. 
“So, as I was saying-” 
“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red. 
“I was only-” 
“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!” 
Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally. 
You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac. 
When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you. 
Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest. 
********************
It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently. 
By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest. 
He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.
The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.
“Eddie, can I talk to you?” 
He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom. 
“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-” 
“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile. 
“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out. 
“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug. 
“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.” 
You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips. 
“Really?” 
Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong. 
“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.” 
Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.” 
His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?” 
“Of course I would. You got their number?” 
He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William. 
“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?” 
He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored. 
“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.” 
Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait. 
“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is-  well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.” 
Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly. 
His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character. 
“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?” 
You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.” 
He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly. 
“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.” 
“Eddie I already owe-” 
He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!” 
You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you. 
“Who the fuck is Barb?”
“I dunno, she sounded worldly.” 
He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.” 
Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other. 
Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time. 
“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!” 
Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly. 
“You did good Miss, he's really happy.” 
“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.” 
He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.” 
He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled. 
“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately. 
“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look. 
He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.” 
“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening. 
He smirks at you in response.
“You free tonight? I can show you.” 
Taglist
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes @tlclick73 @reidsgubbler @siriuslysmoking @keanureevessmile @fhsbsvy @yourdailymemedelivery @aurora-austen @rach5ive @honey-teaaaaaaaa @nina211544 @bbabycass @cactusangie @skrzydlak @took-me-hours-to-steal-those @hereforshmut @nabiiturner @darlingbravebelle @freak-of-hawkins @randomworker @serenadingtigers @1paire2vans @sapphire4082 @xmasterofmunsonx @steamystrangerfics @vol2eddie @storiesbyrhi
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voyeurmunson · 2 days
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18+ hoes (just smut. I didn’t mean for it to be this long. Oops.)
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Just thinking about Eddie cleaning up after a game of dnd. You’re plopped down in his throne watching him collect the pieces, placing them carefully in the box.
You scoot back in the chair, lifting your skirt a little higher as you do just waiting to catch his eye.
You listen as he hums to himself, watching his brown curls bounce as he moves around the large table. He’s so pretty. He always is but especially in this dim lighting, the candlelight flickering in his brown eyes every few seconds. The whole thing an attempt to have a more theatrical atmosphere was quickly turning into setting the mood for the two of you.
You keep your eyes on him, watching his every move. Your eyes land on his hands. Metal rings adorning almost every finger. Fuck, those fingers. The thought of them inside of you makes you throb. Your mind being taken back to last night. His fingers deep in your cunt, the sounds of your slick loud as he fucked into you roughly. “Squeezin’ me so tight, sweetheart.” he groaned, curling his fingers with precision. “More, Eddie. P-please.” you had screamed making him grin as he worked in a fourth finger.
“Baby?” Eddie snaps in your face, shaking you from your little trip down memory lane. Your legs are crossed, thighs clenched together tightly as Eddie’s eyes roam your body slowly.
“Fuck, you look good in there.” he breathes, trailing his fingers down the side of the chair before hovering over you. He leans in, lips meeting your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he kisses it gently.
“My queen.” he hums, his warm lips working lower, long wet kisses down your neck. His calloused fingers work their way up your thigh, his breath hitching as he reaches your pussy.
“You little slut.” he chuckles deeply as he realizes you’ve got nothing on beneath your skirt, dropping to his knees in front of you.
“Mmm.. just for you, dungeon master.” you giggle playfully as he grins up at you.
His eyes darken suddenly as he pushes your skirt up above your hips roughly. “Such a pretty pussy.” Eddie rasps as his arms wrap around your waist, swiftly pulling you toward the edge of the seat.
He starts kissing you again, his lips coming halfway up your thigh, your skin so soft, bruising easily as he nips and sucks. Eddie loves the noises you make as he gets closer and closer to the top of your legs. One of his firm hands squeeze your upper thigh hard, pulling a moan from your lips that makes his cock strain against his jeans.
He lets out a low moan as he sees exactly how wet you are. “Always so ready for me, baby.” He smiles, deciding to tease you even more. He brings one hand up to your pussy, sliding a thick finger down your slit.
"You're so wet, princess. Gonna have to clean you up, yeah?” he teases with a smirk, his finger lightly tracing over your wet lips.
"Please.” you beg as Eddie moves his middle finger between your slick folds, just barely into your dripping hole.
He ignores your plea, removing his finger instead, sliding it up higher until it brushes your clit, making your body shudder.
"Please what, sweet girl? You don’t like the way I touch you?” Eddie taunts, his pretty lips curled into a slick smile.
"I- I do, Eds. But please… please don’t-” your brain can’t focus on the words as his finger continues teasing your sensitive little clit. Not enough to get you there, just enough to drive you crazy. You huff in frustration as you lift your hips, aiming to make contact with his fingers again.
Eddie slaps your pussy roughly making your head fall back into the hard wood of the throne as a sinful moan falls from your lips. “Words, sweetheart. You want me to stop?"
"No, fuck no. Don’t tease me, Eddie. Please. Need you.”
"What do you want me to do to you baby? Tell me."
"Just- fuck Eddie stop being a tease." you whine, looking down at him once again.
He chuckles then, sending vibrations through your core, making you even more wet. "Want me to eat that pussy, baby? Suck on your clit, while I fuck you with my fingers?"
"Yes. Fuck. Please Eddie. Need your fingers. Your mouth. Fuck me." you blurt out, not caring how pathetic you sound.
He licks his lips once, wetting them before he’s spreading your knees farther apart. He kisses your pussy. Small kisses at first. Teasing you further until you grip his chocolate curls, almost yanking them as you press him deeper into you. He picks up his tempo, sloppy wet kisses, moaning into you as he practically makes out with your pretty pussy.
"Oh fuck, j-just like that baby.” you chuckle breathlessly, keeping your eyes on him, finally getting the attention your pussy was aching for.
You bring your ankles around his shoulders, pulling him in even closer as his fingers dig into the plush skin of your ass. His long tongue dips in between your soaked folds, licking a long stripe from your hole back up to your clit. Sliding his tongue all around your pussy, tasting you, exploring every part before landing back on your entrance.
“You’re fucking leaking for me, pretty girl.” Eddie groans, his cock twitching, seeing you so wet for him only making him more feral.
He shoves his tongue in your pussy then, slowly pulling it out, making you gasp as he works it back inside, swirling it all around, coating his tongue with your sweetness.
Your eyes flutter shut uncontrollably as he continues tongue fucking you until you’re squirming around, almost slipping out of the chair causing Eddie’s fingers to cling to your hips, holding you in place. A grip so tight there were sure to be marks left behind.
“Eddie, Eddie please. Want more.” You breathe, a needy moan escaping as his tongue works back up to your clit, two fingers suddenly being pushed inside you, pumping roughly in and out of your tight pussy.
“Yes! Fuck!” you squeal as you take a tighter hold on his brown locks, bucking your hips, practically riding his fingers as he locks onto your clit, sucking roughly. You force your eyes open long enough to see Eddie’s brown ones watching you carefully, his plump lips still wrapped around your puffy clit, his free hand palming his cock through his jeans.
“Y-you look so pretty on your knees for me.” you purr, the unsuspected dominance surprising both you and Eddie, making his eyes roll into his head as his hand continues working in and out, slipping in a third finger as he fucks your drenched pussy with even more eagerness.
“You like that?” you test, your chest rising and falling rapidly as he brings you closer and closer. Eddie nods quickly, your clit still locked between his lips, his brown eyes looking up at you like a lost puppy.
“Feels so good, baby. Don’t fuckin’ stop. Wanna be a good boy and make me cum?” you push even further, Eddie loving every second of it, moaning loudly into your pussy. He pops off your clit, his lips glistening with your arousal.
“Yes. Anything for you. Fuck.” he pants breathlessly, his fingers driving into you at an insane pace, your back arching as you feel your body going higher and higher.
“Good boy. Such a good boy.” you barely manage to choke out before you lose control, your pussy clenching around his fingers, soaking his hand completely.
“Fuck yes. Cum for me, princess. Look so pretty when you cum.” Eddie praises before his face is back between your thighs, his tongue flicking over your clit again, sending even more pleasure throughout your body as you jerk against him, riding out every second of your orgasm.
Eddie slowly removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue as he cleans you up, your body shivering with every soft lick of his warm tongue.
Your thighs squeeze around his head as he dips his tongue inside one last time, drawing out every bit of your cum that he could.
He stands up kissing you roughly, making you taste yourself all over his tongue before he brings his fingers to your lips, slipping them into your mouth. You meet his eyes as you slowly suck them clean.
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” Eddie mumbles drunkenly as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. You push him off of you lightly, standing up from the chair before shoving him down in your place. You can see the outline of his hard cock making you bite your lip as you drop to your knees, reaching for his belt buckle.
“Let me show you how obsessed I am with you, Eddie.”
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ghoulphile · 2 days
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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | teaser
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 465 for the teaser, overall wordcount tbd ➥ overall warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap (i hc reader to be late 20s but i tried to leave it vague enough), cowgirl position, biting, hair pulling, choking, squirting, teasing, pining, lipstick kink, breast/nipple play, masturbation (m), porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, coop's pov to start - rest of the fic will be in reader's, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | "We really s-shouldn't - oh fuck - be doing this." ➥ notes | here's a teaser for the fic i took a poll on, some people wanted more info 😊 coop is a big dick dilf fite me. feedback is always appreciated ❤️ lmk if you want to be tagged feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | other ghoul fics
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Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
Ugliest thing in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say.
It's not like being a Marine with a gun in hand, being told where to point and shoot, or an actor reading off a script. There's no guidebook, no crash course. These people aren't nameless threats coasts away or co-workers following a cue.
In fact, his 'enemies' aren't enemies at all.
They have names: Barb, so smart it hurts, and sweet little Janey, his very own North star. Sometimes looking at them rips open a hole in his chest that'll never close, edges jagged and sore. The phantoms of family, of happier times, found in the glint of a smile or a peal of laughter.
See, war's something he understands. Something he's good at.
But these domestic battlefields where he's gotta look his ex-wife in the face, and struggle to meet his daughter's eye? Barter this weekend and that holiday? To pay for the privilege of his child's presence (he does, he will, she's worth every goddamn cent he's ever made)?
To look down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman he loves staring back; he doesn't, can't, comprehend that. Because once upon a time, he was happy (with her) and life was sweeter than pie.
Now he's nothing but a washed up actor who struggles to land a call back let alone make his monthly alimonies. His marriage has failed, his reputation is in shambles, and his bank account is dryer than the Mojave.
Barb gets the house. He gets the dog.
And caught in the middle of it all is his little girl; the only thing he’s got left worth while. He wants to protect her, provide for her the way she deserves — only he seems to fall short every goddamn time.
The mistakes and missteps keep stacking up against him; such is his new life in all its raw, unglamorous glory.
Look how far the mighty fall.
Lucky for him — the first bright thing that's come his way in a long, long while — a sweet, young woman moves into the apartment next door. Of course, it isn't long before Janey takes a shine, always so friendly.
Thankfully, you're just as good with her.
It only makes sense you'd watch her when a gig runs late. Rustle up some grub and put her to bed whenever he slinks in through the door, stripped to the bone.
And if he takes himself in hand late at night, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress? Imagines the wide stretch of your lush mouth as you peer up at him from between his thighs when he cums hard?
Well, what you don't know won't hurt you.
After all, he promises to keep his hands to himself.
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TBC
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gutsby · 9 hours
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Ruined!
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
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Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
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tayytayy12 · 1 day
Text
I hate it here (a lot less when I’m with you) | OP81 x Reader
Summary - Reader just got out of a mildly toxic relationship and released a song about what her coping mechanism was during that time, but when her new relationship gets leaked by the paparazzi, she decides to show off her new favourite person.
Warnings | Mentions of a past toxic relationship/ breakup, swearing
FaceClaim | Gracie Abrams
Requested | Yes - No
Type | SMAU
Yourusername
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Liked by | AaronDessner, PheobeBridgers and 2,987,425 others
Tagged | @/AaronDessner
Yourusername | Long Pond Studios has always been a place where I’ve let my emotions and feelings guide my songwriting completely, every song that I’ve written and recorded in this place has been a complete raw reflection of my feelings, and I’m forever grateful that I can trust you enough to share them all with you without the slightest moment of hesitation. That’s why, I’m surprise releasing my brand new song, ‘I hate it here’ now. This song is about a method I’ve used to cope for the past few years of my life when I wasn’t in the best situation, and I hope that it will help any of you who are or were in the same situation I was. This song was made with my soulmate of a collaborator, chosen friend, found family of mine, Aaron and were so incredibly proud of it and we can’t wait for you to hear it. Sorry for being away for so long, I love you 🤍
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User1 - OMFG SHES ALIVE !!!
User2 - ONLY TOOK FIVE MONTHS TO CONFIRM YOU’RE ALIVE AND BREATHING
AaronDessner - My favourite one together so far 🤍
Yourusername - Love you forever 🤍
User3 - WTFDYM ‘I HATE IT HERE’ EXPLAIN?
User4 - GO LISTEN TO IT ITS SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD
User5 - A SURPRISE DROP? WE’RE SPOILED
User6 - When Aarons a co-writer AND the producer, you know for a fact the song will change your life (and make the therapy bill triple)
Liked by author
User7 - Girl don’t apologise
User8 - FR like she gets cheated on, takes a brake and then apologises to us 😭 like girl it’s okay
JackAntanoff - *Alexa play Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo*
Yourusername- Your times coming synth man 🤫 LOVE YOU STILL
User9 - WDYM HIS TIME IS COMING YOU CRYPTIC WOMAN
User10 - “I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind.” That’s all I have to say.
User11 - Y/n could write Romeo and Juliet but Shakespeare couldn’t write I hate it here
User11 - “I place you need a key to get to, the only one is mine” girly I hope someone makes you want to make a copy one day
Yourusername - God I love you lmao
User11 - OMFG Y/n loves me I can die happy
User12 - “tell me something awful, like you are a poet.” BC HE ALWAYS PAINTED HER BLUE SKYS THE DARKEST GREY, RUINING HER DAY BY TELLING HER AWFUL SHIT LIKE HES A TORTURED POET !!!!!! (I knew Coney Island wasn’t fictional you fucking delusional people, no one in a happy relationship writes that shit 💕💕💕)
User13 - “This man made me feel worthless.” Y/EX/N ISTG WHEN I FIND YOU. COUNT UR MINUTES
User14 - “I'm lonely but I'm good, I'm bitter but I swear I'm fine” bitch where did you find my diary
Liked by author
Yourusername
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Liked by, SabrinaCarpenter, OscarPiastri and 2,191,910 others
Tagged | @/SabrinaCarpenter
Yourusername - I’m sorry who’s this woman debuting at no.1 on the billboard hot one hundred? My god it is me, I can’t believe this, I love you I love you I love you thank you so so much from the bottom of my heart, I mean it, I really do. MY GOD I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. (And my baby with her first top ten entry, I love you Sabby, Go stream espresso, it is that sweet 🤍💕) OKAY ONE LAST THANK YOU. 💕🤍💕🤍💕
Okay I lied but being among names like Beyoncé, Ariana Grande, SZA and Kendrick Lamar is one of the biggest honours ever, I’m huge fans of them all and to be in the same space as them is an honour no words can express, I love you all, the most caring sweet fans on the whole planet 💕💕💕💕
(And yes, it was a reference to a physical key, this is it)
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User14 - We made the right one famous guys
User15 - I’m actually crying, when did she stop being our little secret
SabrinaCarpenter - My biggest fan 🩷
Yourusername - Your biggest fan 🩷
User16 - Oscar in the likes for what?
User17 - Who?
User18 - Oscar Piastri, he’s a 23 yr old f1 driver
User19 - What is vroom vroom boy doing here
AaronDessner - Truly blessed to work with you
Yourusername - I’m the blessed one don’t even
User20 - Only y/n could send a five minute long, slow, alt pop song with a main piano background, basically a depressing lullaby bop, to number one above all these TikTok songs
User21 - She’s actually adorable
OscarPiastri - Been on repeat!
Liked by author
User22 - UM HELLO WHAT ARE U DOING HERE LITTLE ORANGE MAN?
User23 - This is all bc of me btw
Celebrity.updates
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Liked by, user24, and 82,828 others
Tagged | @/Yourusername @/OscarPiastri
Celebrity.updates - NEW COUPLE!!! Fast upcoming pop star, Y/n Y/l/n (21) seen out late at night on the streets of London with Formula one driver, Oscar Piastri (23), according to the source of these pictures the two were laughing and running around the streets together, when Oscar caught up to her and hugged her to him and kissed her. Rumours say that Y/n met Piastri through her ex partner who’s an engineer for f1 team Alpine, the pair seem to be quite smitten and loving with each other. What’s your thoughts on this?
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User25 - WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN
User26 - Posting these photos is bad enough, but tagging them in it is crazy
User28 - Neither of them have even been hinting at a relationship at all, they clearly didn’t want anyone to know yet
User29 - Can’t these sickos just let them live, they’re people too
User30 - Whoever took these is messed up
User31 - They do look rlly happy together though
User32 - The fact that her ex is an alpine engineer makes this situation so much more funny and interesting
SabrinaCarpenter - You’re actually disgusting
User33 - TELL THEM SAB
User34 - The fact that she’s not even wrong
User35 - the fact that she defends Y/n with no hesitation
User36 - The friendship we all need in our lives
Yourusername
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Liked by, OscarPiastri, SabrinaCarpenter and 2,928,198 others
Tagged | @/OscarPiastri
Yourusername - I hate it here a lot less when I’m with you 🤍 my favourite polite cat xxxx
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LandoNorris- Finally. The pair of you at the paddock hiding in MY divers room bc you were scared someone would see you in Oscar’s. Sigh.
Yourusername - You love me
User37 - OH MY GOD
User38 - I need to know the bears name
OscarPiastri- She named him Gerald
Yourusername - Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s our son
OscarPiastri - Sorry baby
User39 - Hysterical
OscarPiastri - My favourite smiling dog 🤍
Yourusername- Excuse me did you just call me a bitch
OscarPiastri- NO I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT
User40 - The dynamic is already everything to me
User41 - Even his GF knows he’s a polite cat
Yourusername - He so is (he’s in denial)
User42 -“ I hate it here a lot less with you” Shut the fuck up
OscarPiastri
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Liked by, Yourusername, LoganSargeant and 1,872,001 others
Tagged | @/Yourusername
OscarPiastri - She made me a copy 🗝️🤍
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User43 - Someone sedate me
User44 - SHE. MADE. HIM. A. COPY.
User45 - WTFFFTTFTFTD
User46 - Literally the ultimate Oscar on Alpine revenge
Liked by author
Yourusername - I don’t need my secret gardens, or my lunar valleys anymore, because I have you 🤍
OscarPiastri- My favourite and only girl 🤍
User47 - I’m taking a nap on the highway
///////
478 notes · View notes
hellishjoel · 1 day
Text
chokehold
1.6k / pairing: tattoo artist daddy dom!joel miller x sub f!reader
series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi
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chapter summary: Joel teaches you how to face fuck. 
chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, unspecified age gap, established relationship, reader is described to have hair and is able-bodied (but otherwise, unspecified), swearing, dirty talk, smut, lots of pet names (sweetheart, angel, little bunny, etc.), dacryphilia (kink = getting aroused by tears), dom/sub dynamics, innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, face fucking/oral (m!receiving), size kink
A/N:  very lightly edited, but I wanted to give a little love to joel and little bunny since the third chapter is taking me some extra time! divider is by @firefly-graphics! and always a thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this over and endless encouragement <3
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Joel’s eyes roll to the back of his head, slow and steady, because that’s just the pace you’re taking him. 
Facefucking is still experimental to you. He’s your first partner, and you’re nervous to impress. 
What you don’t know is that Joel would never judge your inexperience. All sexual pleasures involve trust, praise, and a little direction.
Joel stokes your hair affectionately, growing more possessive as he gently guides your mouth up and down his thick length. 
You can feel the power shift as your knees dig into the floor, eyes hesitantly meeting his while you try to take more of his shaft. You want more, you’re willing to push your limits. 
Joel seems to sense your loss of inhibitions, your twinkling eyes meeting his whiskey ones. 
“Want me to use that pretty little mouth of yours?” Joel’s words vibrate through the room. He pulls his cock from your lips, smearing his tip from one corner of your mouth to the other as you catch a breath. His warm pre-cum slips onto your tongue, and all you crave is more. 
Watching you desperately try to get him past your parted lips again is enough to force out a dark, low chuckle. 
“Wanna hear y’say it, baby.” 
Your impatient whine and eager hands on the back of his thighs make you beg, “Please, Joel,” in that wrecked voice that he loves so much. 
Joel presses his hips forward once more, watching his tip slip past your puckered lips and back into the hot heat of your mouth. “Yeah, right where I belong, huh, baby? Right where that cock belongs.” Joel’s hand comes to cradle your face, tracing the bulge of his length against your cheek with a sinister smirk. 
The further he pushes on, your tells start to show. He admires the way your eyelashes flutter, gagging and coughing around him but insistent not to let yourself off. A stray tear slips down your cheek. He collects it with his thumb and brings it past his lips, tasting what you give him. 
“Even your tears taste pretty, sweetheart,” he mutters predatorily, watching as your eyes blow wide, shyly moaning against his length. 
“When it gets to be too much, try to stay on. Swallow around me,” Joel gently nods his head. “Go on.” 
You obey, swallowing around the thick trunk of his cock, throat feeling a little looser now. You’re oh so willing to take on the discomfort just to please him. Anything for Joel, because he’d do anything for you. 
As his hips pick up a lazy pace, Joel encourages you to drop your hands from the safety blanket of his thighs. Like the good girl you are, you ease them to the base of your spine and lay one wrist over the other. He’s tied you up in that position more times than he can count, allowing Joel to take control and use you as he pleases. Such a good fucking girl. 
Tears pool along the top of your cheeks, the sight of glassy eyes igniting a fire deep in his belly. The overflow of saliva trickles out along the corners of your mouth, pooling down to his length and soaking the coarse hair on his balls. 
Joel watches as you shift anxiously on your knees, eyes pleading because somehow you want more. 
“Oh, honey,” he drapes in a degrading tone, stroking your hair away from your wet face and letting you catch a breath as his hips halt. “Need more, don’t’cha, doll?” He drawls, cooing softly as you lay your head against his thigh. Your orbs lazily look to him and nod weakly, still measly sucking on his tip. 
You bravely flick your tongue along his tip’s sensitive slit, toying at the idea of getting a rise out of Joel. 
A hiss is released past his clenched teeth, his whiskey eyes turning wild. And then you do it again. 
Joel’s hips jerk like that of a bucking bull. His hand in your hair turns to a fist, causing you to clench your eyes closed at the scorching prickle along your scalp. Joel scoffs as you fucking moan against him. 
His grin turns wicked, twisted at the thought of you enjoying some rough love. 
“Fuckin’ naughty, aren’t ya, little bunny? Yeah, bein’ a damn brat,” he chastises, watching as you frown around his tip and sucking it insistently. “Think m’gonna have t’finish deep down that pretty throat of yours, make ya choke on it,” he remarks as he repositions your head with a newfound need to punish.
Joel gathers your hair into two sets of pigtails, fisting them between his large palms. He watches you struggle to stay upright and drags you into position. “Keep that cock in your mouth, don’t let it go, sweetheart,” he gripes as you struggle to maintain him. It almost feels like a twisted game the way he nearly slips loose from your heat. 
Your mouth was full, jaw aching for a break that was nowhere in sight. Your fingers intertwine to keep them locked at the very base of your spine, whining nonsense against his cock. Soaking wet and dripping onto the hardwood, your pussy clenches around the ghost of what is currently occupying your mouth. 
You wanted to touch yourself so fucking bad. The self-discipline it took to keep your hands together makes your stomach churn. Your pearl twitches with enthusiasm, drenched in your own arousal. 
The muscles in your thighs are tight, your chest heaving and causing your bare breasts to rise and fall at a quickened rate. The overflowing spit that drips down from his balls lands on your chest. Joel can’t seem to stop staring at the gleam. 
Your nose brushes against his thick pubic hair as he buries your face against the base of his stomach, and you sputter up a cough. Lungs squeezing, throat tightening, you will yourself to swallow around him and stay right where you are. I’m yours, Joel. Please, take me, use me. 
“Fuck,’ he growls upon yanking you off his cock, smirking widely as you gasp for lost breaths. “Love that goddamn throat,” Joel mutters before reaching past you and pulling your hands to the front of his thighs, which quickly form a home for you. It’s grounding, to feel him, to feel his blood pumping through his body, and etch mine on the inside of his upper thigh mindlessly. 
“Got me so close, honey,” he starts, and you’re already eagerly nodding. Joel brings his thumb to your throat and slowly circles one spot against the column of your flesh. “Wanna feel myself right here, think you can do that, sweetheart?” 
Your eyes soften at the depth he wishes to go, but you’d do anything for him. You nod shyly and drop your jaw, flattening your tongue just for him. Always for him. 
Joel’s pace is gentle at first, working up a rhythm that has your throat molding perfectly around him. You gag each time he thrusts all the way, knowing when to swallow and when to breathe, Joel has taught you this new erotic art. 
The saliva dripping down to the base of his cock greets your chin repeatedly. You hollow your cheeks around him, and he moans naughty filth. 
“Such a pretty slut for this cock, make me feel so fuckin’ good- god damn,” Joel pauses with his length fully down your tight throat, grinding himself against your mouth as you clench your eyes close and gag. Joel places his thumb on that sacred spot against your neck, and he can feel his tip bulging against the column of your throat. You’re so fucking full of him, and it’s enough to make him spill. 
The hold he has on your hair tightens, scalp prickling as you cry out along his length. Salt bitters your tongue, weakly swallowing back load after load of his warm, thick finish. You swallow around his length and moan lowly, all muffled and messy for him as he crashes harshly through his own concocted orgasm. 
Your nails etch half-moon shapes into the back of his thighs, keeping him there, pushing for him to cross the finish line. And it was all for you. 
Tears of happiness stream down your face as you let him finish painting your throat, releasing with a dramatic pop as you do your best to swallow every last dribble. You’re careful as you give his sensitive tip a few sweet kitten licks. His hands are at the ready in your hair as he hisses harshly, ready to control you if it’s too much overstimulation for your poor old Daddy. 
Sponging kisses down his softening length, you lay your head against his thigh, and he cards his fingers through your hair. A soothing hum leaves your throat, fluttering your eyes closed as his thumb comes along to brush away the stray tears. 
It’s easier to ignore the throbbing between your legs now that Joel has found peace. Your heart pounds in your ears, and you listen only slightly as he begins to coo gentle affirmations for you.
Joel holds your hands and helps you stand, your arms already tiredly linking around his neck as you lay your head on his shoulder. 
“Such a sweet girl,” he whispers, “always make Daddy so happy, you know that?” Your head bobbles loosely. His sweet remarks make your muscles even more pliant in his arms as he easily sweeps you off your feet and moves you to lie across the bed. 
Joel takes all of you in. Sweat glistening along your temple, parted lips lacquered in spit, the extra effort it takes you to swallow, how perky your nipples are, and the slick that’s all but made a mess down your thighs. 
“Shit, she’s so pretty f’me,” Joel whispers as you grin weakly.
“My turn now?” Your wrecked voice squeaks, to which Joel slowly nods, helping you pitch your legs up on the edge of the bed.  
“Your turn now, little bunny.”
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A Flawless Muse - LN
Request from @flrboyd - hi, I was wondering if you could write something with lando based around these 2 tiktoks, where he just documents anything the reader does even if it's normal tasks like he just always capture atleast part of a moment where they're together https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMVntrW3/ https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMVnDwHd/
No part 2 requests please
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When fans saw a y/n.mov account be created they initially thought it was a fan account or she was getting into movie making in following the footsteps of her boyfriend. But what no one expected was for it to be Lando capturing and documenting as many moments of his girlfriend's life as possible.
Videos span from travelling to exploring to bedrotting to cooking to her third-wheeling his golf with Max or Zak.
He doesn't necessarily capture every moment, sometimes pulling out his camera can ruin it but y/n has never complained or discouraged him.
Today's documenting was the journey actually quite a long stretch of time. Going from Monaco to Woking to Miami for the next race.
Lando smiles setting up the camera to look at y/n. He does also feature himself in some clips, like waking her up.
"Baby, time to get up up up." Lando smiles squishing her under his weight as he presses several kisses on her cheek earning a grin from her.
She doesn't know she's being recorded, but really with Lando at this point, he's recording her so often she is very much aware to always be cautious of it.
They get up and grab luggage, throughout all of which Lando manages carry quite a few of the bags and capture a good few clips of her before they get on the jet.
One thing he's always missed and slept through when it comes to their flights. Y/n has a very meticulous skincare routine since she says flying so much dries out her skin.
Lando sets up the camera to capture her going through each step of her skincare. A cleanser, toner, two serums, eye cream and moisturiser which doubles as "hydrating mask"
"So was that all cinematic?" Y/n jokes as Lando stops recording.
"Very cinematic." Lando confirms earning a grin from the young woman before she shuffles a little closer. "You want to put it on me?"
"Pretty please?"
"Can I capture it on video?"
"Always."
-
If asked Lando would say y/n was just made for the camera. He thinks she is so perfect, though he is slightly selfish in that he believes she was best made for his camera specifically.
Being in Woking, Lando might be the first to admit it's not the most cinematic of places to capture on camera but when y/n is there, he thinks it's improved ten fold.
Y/n is walking around MTC looking at the old cars. Lando can't even help it when he comes out to find her peaking into one of the cockpits. He scrambles for his camera, somehow not catching her attention before he moves to capture her.
But it takes only a few seconds for her to spot him and without even thinking she's jogging towards him with a beaming grin.
"You're so pretty." Lando laughs as she get close enough and he stops recording.
"I feel bad to say I know, but you tell me so often I think denying it would be criminal behaviour." Y/n jokes then sighing. "Done for the day?"
"Yes...you didn't crash my car, did you?"
"No. Someone else crashed into your car. There's a difference." Y/n grins playing along with the joke. "They only took off the door and then reversed back into me to test the crumple zone."
"Oh right, of course." Lando laughs before he sighs and they begin to head out, saying by to everyone they pass and wishing everyone safe travels for when they get out to Miami.
Usually Lando likes to take any opportunity to go out for dinner, while y/n likes to take any opportunity to cook at home. Mainly because she likes the familiarity of shopping at food shops in the UK. So she talks Lando into taking them to a Big Tesco (iykyk), which he agrees to purely because he thinks he could capture more footage of her in a new setting.
-
The journey to Miami is fun. However her betrayal to McLaren is captured in 4k when she gasps seeing the pink Red Bull caps.
"-Baby, you can't wear Red Bull."
"Why? Does McLaren have bright pink cap too?" Y/n gasps in excitement as she looks across to the McLaren merch stand only to deflate and turn to the woman working in Red Bull. "Can I have a Max cap?"
"I'm dumping you." Lando grumbles, not meaning it for even a second as she pays for the cap.
Y/n grins putting the cap on and much to Lando's annoyance, it looks very good on her. Even if he might have a bias that everything looks good on her. He places his camera down to record them before pulling the cap off and adjusting it to the right size for her head and then putting it back on her head.
Y/n and Max do come across each other and Lando captures the interaction of Max looking very proud over the fact she's sporting not only Red Bull much but his number 1 sits very forward on the cap.
Despite him working throughout the weekend and it being Miami, Lando still manages to capture her on camera continuously. Even seeing up the camera so it captures her watching him. Though her Red Bull cap was banned from being within the confines of the garage. Which almost earned her an invitation to Max's garage instead.
When the race weekend is over, they're on their way back to Monaco. Oddly on a flight via Max as had been the case for China too. Lando spends the whole time editing the first parts his video footage, though he manages to balance that along with capturing y/n and Max yapping about the weekend before she falls asleep, the RBR cap resting over her eyes as she curls up with her head resting on his leg forcing him to balance his laptop on his other leg.
"I'm burning that cap and doing whatever to get her a bright pink McLaren cap." Lando comments earning a small laugh from the Dutchman.
"How's your mini movie for her?"
"I'm not allowed to show anyone but her sneak peaks. You'll have to wait." Lando smiles then reclining his chair back as he lifts the cap slightly just to check that she's sleeping. "But actually this might be the best video I've made...aside from her domestic bliss day."
"No wonder Kelly says you're the best boyfriend." Max hums watching Lando grin, very smug over his title.
"Yeah, I'm pretty much untouchable."
"Yeah, but she's still wearing my cap." Max hums then finding the fact thrown at him before Lando just puts his hand over her eyes to block out the light.
"It will be burned."
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bisexualiteaa · 2 days
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actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want
A Flame in Your Heart
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)
CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader
AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️
Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.
“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.
“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.
Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.
“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.
Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.
He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.
When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.
When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?
“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.
“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.
Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.
Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.
In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.
As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.
“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.
It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.
“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.
By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.
It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.
“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.
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nonuify · 2 days
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ᝰ.ᐟ 📦 — C.SC ; ! with you
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sfw / nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. [ fluff & smut ] ꩜. | missing my husband sue me
“you were just missing your boyfriend.”
you were sitting on the couch, sleep deprived you missed your boyfriend, so much he was gone on a tour for what? two or three months you were going crazy at this point.
yes he sent you flowers & gifts but nothing could compare to the warmth of his body laying next to you cuddling.
you were bored of living the same day every single time, since he toured away, waking up, taking a shower, eating, walking kkuma then seeing a tv show & sleep, even you didn’t have energy for friends, you just needed your seungcheol.
i mean he called you but not always, sometimes you’d wish you jump of the screen that your call was ongoing with.
being brought back to you reality by the roaring sounds of the tv, that was playing some random series you had watched, but what really caught your attention was kkuma barking, ‘she was probably hungry’ you thought.
following the sound of her, you went to her “kkuma sweetie come let’s get fo-“ your heart stopped.
he was here. seungchol was finally here. everything you had on your mind had dropped.
you ran into the warmth of his arms, hugging him tight, “thank god I was loosing my mind” you mumbled “I missed you too, my love” he chuckled embracing your hug lovingly.
after breaking the hug, you kissed each other deeply with so many different emotions of love, warmth it was so passionate that the more you indulged him the more safe & comforting you felt, nobody ever made you feel loved like him, choi seungcheol will always be yours to love & care for, you hoped he felt the same towards you.
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“someone’s eager hm?” he teased smiling. you just went back to kissing him, eventually you guys went to the bedroom to continue your little love session.
exploring every inch of your body is what he did, making sure kiss every place his hand touched, “think you could get on my lap princess?” he said, you of course obliged, grabbing the flesh of your thighs, he let you settle on his lap, your hands wrapping around the soft nape of his neck, both your chests pressing against each other.
his hands began to roam once again from your back going up & down till reaching the sweet spot of your ass, squeezing them then pulling down your pajama shorts & panties.
fingers sliding down against your flushed bum he went in, in your cunt, brushing through your folds then pinching your clit slightly just enough to make it feel good, you tilted your head, burying it in his neck then letting out a moan after his cocky tricks “i already waited enough, please just fuck me good” you whined
casually ignoring you, he went back to playing with your pussy, he played with your clit a bit but found your hole then continued to tease by lining the tip of his finger in & out your already wet hole, arousal was dripping out of it.
he pushed his finger in your needy hole then quickly after doing so he added another, a third following shortly, you felt so fulfilled you couldn’t ask for more, his fingers did not compare with yours to when you & his’s rather many steamy phone sessions.
working with the magic of his fingers he pushed in & out of you while you sat there squirming with whiny & breathy moans following with it, “s-s’good cheolie” you pushed down on his fingers that were stretching you open, the feeling of his digits in you feeling ethereally amazing, scissoring his fingers inside your cunt, he came in contact with your sweet spot, fastening his pace he began began to hit your walls just by his fingers imagining, that if it was his cock made you even more fucked out for wanting his dick.
already feeling an urge to cum you moaned out loudly then cum came squirting out of your wet pussy. “god my baby’s been desperate already squirting on me huh?” he said pulling out his fingers then licking your sweet liquids that came splurging out. “never fails to taste good” he moaned amused sucking every last bit of it, you couldn’t deny that was fuckin hot of him.
“please lemme ride you seungcheolie?” you asked desperately wanting to do so.
“of course you can, sweets” he gave you the green light, you quickly discarded whatever he was wearing from pants to shirt, he now completely naked & may I say very hard, his cock itching aching to be inside of you.
sliding down on his cock was a hell of a time the feeling of his length, welcoming the warmth of your insides was so amazing.
you began to bounce on him, breasts bouncing with you underneath your little top that you had worn, seungcheol saw how gorgeous you looked on top of him, wondering how he got a beauty like you as his lover.
seungcheol grabbed your waist with his hands he’d thrust up as you went down making sure that he’ll hit all your special spots, when the both of your hips snapped against each other both of you would let out lewd moans & groans.
“god this pussy was made for me” he groaned throwing his head back continuously thrusting upwards to meet your hips once again deepening his cock inside your tight cunt. after a couple of minutes your hips gave out on you, so you just started to hump on him, he however just snapped his pace to an inhuman level making you loose your mind only one thought was in your mind it was him.
the knot tying inside your stomach, moaning more loudly than ever the mmphs, the non-understandable words coming out of your mouth “s’cheolie m’gonna cum” you yelled out cum rushing out of you for the second time.
slowing down his pace to give you a little rest “feeling good angel?” he caressed your face gently, you only nodded embracing him with a huge hug, you sighed softly “missed you too much cheol, don’t ever go away” “I’ll talk you with me next time, promise.” he spoke then adding “but baby, don’t you think your cheolie deserves to cum?” he looked at you, pulling his cock out then flipping you & fucking you tons of rounds till the only thing you could say was his name. seungcheol.
knowing that you would wake up sore with tons of love-marks,but you were okay, you loved every single bit of that night because you were with him.
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