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#his face and nose is p much the same
peapod20001 · 2 years
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Questtion: do jane and Daniel's circus outfits still look like This or r u gonna redesign them at some point?
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LOL you come into MY inbox with WHITE DANIEL AND GRAY SÉBASTIEN 😭 /nm
Lolol yes yes I am giving new ones that suit them better than,,,,,t h i s
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Pearl of The Realm
Aemond x wife!reader | HOTD Big Bang!
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Summary: Duty meant a lot of things to Aemond. But he had hoped that it would not mean marriage. And when the day comes for him to confront it, he finds with his new wife, small, naiive and innocent, that there is some pleasure to be found there also.
Word Count: 9,240 (oops) | Warnings below the cut~
A/N: My fic for the HOTD Big Bang! Thank you to the lovely @solisarium for the artwork! 🥰 Please also support all the other lovely writers/artists over @hotd-bigbang, and thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for organising this event ❤
Warnings: arranged marriage, virginity loss, p in v sex, domination, corruption kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, canon typical sexism, aemond has a breeding kink (obvi), dark!aemond (ish)
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Aemond Targaryen was nothing if not dutiful.
To the realm. His title. But most of all, his family.
As a Prince of the Realm, he had many duties.
For most of his adult life he had trained relentlessly with the sword, striving to become better than his own teacher.
He had buried his nose in books, absorbing  information from them, willing them to stick to the insides of his head to obtain intelligence unmatched by any other member of his family.
And, most of all, he had upheld his faithful relationship with his mother, whom he cherished dearly, and his sister equally.
He'd always felt close to the women in his life. But his mother had a special place in his heart. She had been through such hardships, such sacrifice.
And when she'd exploded that night in Driftmark, as inexcusable as she seemed the behaviour to be, he had felt such utter devotion towards her that she would be so angry on his behalf. At a time when he had felt so vulnerable, and felt that his own voice as well as hers had been ignored by the man in their lives.
A man who had so repeatedly, let them down.
He would never admit it out loud, but a part of him sought pleasure in the fact his father was largely bed-bound these days. Even more so that his own father had lost an eye as a result of his worsening condition.
It felt like the Gods were looking down on him and validating him.
But there was one duty he had yet to perform.
Taking a wife.
Unfortunately for him, that time was upon him, and he had no interest in it whatsoever.
As much as Alicent tried, and she really did try, she could not get her second son interested in courting the ladies at the Keep.
As soon as Aemond clapped an eye on the opposite sex, he would retreat in the opposite direction. Not even bothering to engage in conversation, surmising perhaps that he had little in common with them.
He'd never met a lady before who shared the same interests, why start actively seeking them out now?
Alicent's son was in his prime, rooted in adulthood, and she knew it was time, like it or not, that he was wed.
Aemond stood stock still, hands behind his back curled into fists, biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to show his mother the annoyance on his face. Her words were those of truth. He knew that he would eventually have to marry someone, but it did little to take the sting away from it. Often, while his mother talked at him, he looked down at his boots, shifting his weight from his right, to his left, and to his right, again, batting little thoughts in his head.
What his mother didn’t know is what those ladies at court said about him while they supposed his back was turned.
That he was of a violent disposition with a quarrelsome temper, one wrong movement or something as simple as a word spoken out of turn and he would dare not speak to the person in question for however long he deemed fit. That women thought of him as incapable of feeling something as beautiful as love, or even affection, given the sullen look he always wore, with barely-contained anger lurking beneath and an unexpressed pride in his position.
Aemond would never show that such words would have any effect on him with earnest. Sometimes it is better to not say anything at all, he concluded. This method had so often proven successful, it seemed little use to him to stray from it now.
He merely hoped that this woman his mother spoke of with such respect, was not one of the ladies at court.
And mercifully, Aemond sighed with relief that she was not.
Something struck deep within his chest. His mother spoke of her so wonderfully, as if she were a star plucked from the sky, and Aemond pondered if such attributes could be proven correct by simply meeting her once, as Alicent had. What woman, and of what standing, deserved such praise, after only meeting for a short time?
What would she look like? Her mannerisms, her stature, her smile? He found himself haunted by these thoughts without even knowing the woman’s name. Much less, her appearance.
He feared that she might share the same sentiments as the other ladies at court once they were due to meet, chaperoned by her ladies and tainted by their company. Perhaps they had their own opinions that they instilled on her also. She might be afraid of him, he thought. Maybe it is not so bad if she feared him, he allowed himself to think.
Aemond could not find it in his heart to expose himself so willingly to a stranger he was due to wed, and so when word reached the Keep that she had arrived and made her pleasantries, he thought to have mercy on the poor thing, stay clear and not dim her supposed ethereal presence with the darkness that followed at his back since the day he lost his eye.
There was some power in not allowing her to see him until their wedding day.
While a small part of him felt empathetic to the poor girl, that her betrothed chose not to greet her on arrival, another part of him was somewhat self-assured that he had made the right decision. It was the little power he felt he had.
When one thinks of a wedding, they might imagine the Sept beaming with joy, crammed with people all eager to feast their eyes on the new royal couple. But as Aemond stood before the Septon, with the extended feeling of nervousness at the fact she had yet to arrive, he could hear nothing.The Sept was dead silent. The people, the lords and ladies, as well as his family, were in attendance, watching with wide, curious eyes, too terrified to make a sound.
His hands were rigid behind his back, dressed in his finery, feeling the tightness of his clothes against his chest where his heart was hammering underneath.
For duty. For family.
He did not see her at first, as she was on his blind side, but once she’d well and truly stepped beside him, he spared a glance at her and felt his mouth go utterly dry.
Her dress, which he presumed were her house colours, was a light pastel, almost dream-like when combined with the translucent silky fabric graced atop it. He watched with curiosity as she let go of her father’s hand. Her gaze and almost undetectable smile was warm and inviting, as if the space around her was simply alight with her presence. Her father peeled the cloak from her shoulders, and it reminded him that he had the cloak with the Targaryen colours fisted in his grip.
Her hair was pinned up in a series of braids, all varying in size, and he was ashamed to admit that the first thought that came to mind was not that she looked beautiful with them, but that they must be uncomfortable. He was allowed to have his hair loose around his shoulders, whereas this woman, and he supposed others like her, were prodded and poked to look their best to the detriment of their comfort.
Aemond found it impossible to stare ahead and listen to the Septon, and he could’ve let a heavy breath loose when he was asked to cloak her. He swallowed over the lump in his throat that had formed and lifted his gaze to look down at her. Her bright, warm eyes looked up at him, revealing nothing about what she was really thinking, and her lips were full and looked soft, forcing him to think what they would feel like when they would sign their marriage with a kiss later.
He took a breath and placed the cloak on her shoulders, half thinking that such a heavy, large thing would swallow her whole, for her form was smaller than his, and therefore more delicate. Placing his hands on her, but not directly, still felt somewhat intimate, especially in a room of so many people watching. But something stirred deep within when he stepped back and observed that the colours complimented her, like she was meant to be his and belong to him.
They faced each other as the Septon spoke.
Aemond watched every micro-movement. The fluttering of her eyelashes, the deep intakes of breath through her nose and her thumb brushing over her hand, in what he could only assume was nerves, though she was hiding it well on her face.
It was only here that he noticed she wore a dainty pearl necklace, not at all gaudy in size, but small and delicate, like he perceived her to be.
A feeling he didn’t know hummed in his blood. And it showed when both of them were asked to conclude the ceremony with a kiss.
“With this kiss I pledge my love.”
Aemond had to be the one to lean down to meet her in the middle, and he felt his blood thrum when their lips met, excited to find that her lips were as soft as he had imagined. He could not help the lewd thought that passed through his mind, and wondered if the rest of her was as supple and luxurious.
Curse the wedding feast, he wanted to find out right after the ceremony.
He was not overzealous with the kiss, not wanting to frighten her. But he was equally delighted when they parted to the applause of the lords and ladies, to find that her cheeks were faintly bloomed with warmth. His lips pulled into an indistinct smile at the idea that he was the first man that would have made her feel that way, and it pulled a possessive string in Aemond’s body towards her.
He took her hand in his and led her away from the Septon, through the line of people, and relished in the fact that she was now his. Aemond felt somewhat ashamed when his manhood began to harden within his breeches at the mere touch of her hand, and wondered what hers would look like wrapped around it. If her fingers could barely encircle it, and if she would be good and pliant, do as she’s told, and please him.
The wine during the feast surprisingly did nothing to quell the hardness between his legs. He yearned so desperately for her, sat right next to him, posture straight and proper like a good lady wife, with her hands clasped so delicately in her lap. She had yet to say a word to him and he thought she must have been raised very strict, not speaking to her betters without being spoken to first, and now that person was her husband.
It was difficult not to look unimpressed when the various lords and ladies all queued up to provide their congratulations to the intimate little table he and his wife were seated at during the feast.
He watched his mother beam with joy, though he and his wife had not spoken. Aegon had snickered, clearly thinking something inappropriate. And Otto had bowed, offering congratulations as if he had not been involved in the match behind the scenes along with Alicent the entire time. Did he think he was stupid?
Not even his father had managed to pull himself from his bed to offer his congratulations. But, Aemond thought then, he was glad he didn't have to see his face.
At times he could suppress his sheer boredom and impatience, he wanted them all to leave him alone so he could fuck his wife and see what pretty sounds she could make. With the absence of her voice, it only made him more impatient to find out.
Surely, the girl might not have been afraid of him? He thought.
Aemond almost regretted hoping she was afraid of him, but there was some dull excitement in thinking she was, even now, with how beautiful she looked. When he takes her maidenhead, as he was sure she was entirely pure, would her soft eyes look up at him in fear, or in pleasure, or both?
He found his gaze wandering over her for several quiet moments, watching her profile as she scanned the hall, observing everyone else enjoying themselves. Whilst he appeared somewhat indifferent to her to anyone else’s untrained eye, he was otherwise calm and collected. Her lips glistened against the warm amber glow of the candles adorning the table, and he could not hide his delight in seeing how she swallowed nervously. She must have felt his gaze on her, he thought. And as he watched her throat bob, he was drawn to her chest, where the pearls lay, and watched as her breathing pushed her breasts somewhat over the bust of her dress.
He imagined those pearls dancing while he fucked her, her breasts moving with the rhythm of driving his cock into her sweet wetness. Her lips parted with hurried breaths as she struggled to gain it while she appeased him with the sound of her soft moans.
“Are the celebrations to your liking, wife?”
He smirked, testing the title on his tongue.
The insides of him glimmered in excitement when she turned, her posture still perfect and straight. Her wide, innocent eyes met his with curiosity, and also fright that he had spoken to her in such a way. She almost seemed to flinch at the new title he’d referred to her as.
She gave an almost indistinguishable nod, her grip tightening on her hands, “Yes, husband, thank you.” She replied with a wavering voice.
She studied him for a moment, watching as he gave a lopsided smirk, adoring the way she seemed so nervous in his presence, and speaking to her husband. He drank slowly, continuing to watch her squirm under his gaze. Her breathing had hastened, evident by the way she struggled under the tight confines of her boned dress.
Her voice was smooth, like the sweetest honey, and he couldn’t wait to hear how it would translate, echoing throughout their marital chambers, with his flesh pressed against hers.
He never imagined merely envisioning power over something so delicate could be so exhilarating.
Aemond had to hide how elated he was when their leave was announced. He stood, and therefore she did as well, like a delayed little shadow.
She was an obedient little thing, he surmised, as she followed quietly, willfully ignorant to the leering glances and smirks of the lords and ladies who parted a path for them. Every single one of them was curious, as to how such a quiet, soft girl could tame someone so fearsome and chaotic as a dragon prince, who could not be caged in as mere mortal men could.
The chambers seemed too grand, too clunky, to house such a perfect thing as her, he thought. She stood stock still in the middle of his chambers, which he would now share with her, and watched amused as she looked around and took in her surroundings as if she were in some kind of danger. Her pupils flitted about the darkened room, lit only in a warm glow from various candlesticks placed most deliberately.
Her pale dress cast a glow against the grey of the room, as well as her aura, which seemed to lift all the tension from his body and direct it to the place he had needed her the most since he laid his eye on her.
The glass decanter clinked as he poured himself a cup of wine, his back to her.
Aemond turned and extended the decanter only slightly, asking wordlessly if she would like one as well.
But she simply wringed her hands and shook her head, her body wracked with nerves.
Aemond only chuckled, cup of wine in hand and looked upon her, standing so diligently, where he’d left her.
“Wine might dull your nerves, my lady wife.” He mused, watching the way she looked down in embarrassment at being able to see inside her head so clearly.
Every now and then, she would peek over at the well made bed, like it was an inevitability, and not a place where she would share her most intimate and passionate moments with her new husband.
There was a dark red blanket held taught atop the pale sheets.
A warning.
There were never such dark, stark colours atop her bed sheets at home, and she wondered silently why they would choose such a menacing colour to adorn a place where you may lay your head to rest.
A peaceful night’s sleep. A moment’s passion. The birth of a child.
She thought, beds are where we are born, where we sleep, where marriages are made, where women give birth, which is often their last. And where we die. Not necessarily in that order.
Her husband may have thought a bed a peaceful thing.
But to her, many dangerous things may take place in a bed. And she had heard the stories of a dragon’s temper. Of lords, not necessarily of royal standing, taking their wives on their wedding night, whether their wives were willing or not. And this, is what she feared.
“You need not be so afraid.”
He tore her from her thoughts. And she blushed and felt warm all over realising he had caught her staring at the bed, her body betraying how nervous she felt.
When he looked at her, he felt his manhood throb. He wondered if the blood would rush to her cunny the same way it rushed to her cheeks, and how her flesh would cover her delicious curves beneath the softness of her gown.
He felt excited when she opened her mouth, forcing the air into her lungs like it took all her effort.
“May I ask for your assistance with my gown, husband?” She asked sweetly, with her eyes downcast.
Husband.
He felt his cock become impossibly harder.
He poked his cheek with his tongue in amusement, pushing himself off what he was leaning on and made towards her, watching the way she shrunk the closer he got. She turned slowly, showing him her back, where the laces of her dress were tied so tightly, he was surprised she had not asked him sooner.
While he worked on them, loosening the fabric around her middle, his breath hitched when he saw the shift underneath. She moved her hands to her hair, pulling several pins from it where the braids had been twisted together. She visibly shivered under his touch when the laces were undone and he pushed the stiff fabric apart across her back.
Her hair fell to her shoulders, and she used the sharpened tip of the pins to undo the braids into delicate wavy strands, all while unaware how her new husband marvelled at her out of sight.
She walked away from him for a moment to the vanity, never meeting the looking glass with her eyes, but simply placing the pins in a trinket bowl. With the gown loosened around her shoulders, the fabric lifted when she reached up to unclasp the necklace.
“Leave that on.”
She met his gaze in the mirror, questioning. Her cheeks alight with what he was suggesting.
But he didn’t say anything else.
So instead, she cleared her throat quietly, and pulled the heavy dress from her shoulders, folding it lengthways and draping it over an armchair. Her fingers clasped and unclasped, anxious. Aemond merely watched, his doublet feeling tight and hot against his chest. He could make out the silhouette of her form beneath the thin cotton, the candlelight illuminating her, as if her body was the soft and gentle morning sun, peeking over the horizon to set the day alight.
He heard her shuddered breath and allowed himself to think about what it would feel like against his neck while he rutted into her. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him closer to her, to sink deeper into her hot insides.
“I do hope that…I please you…with my appearance.” She murmured, turning with her body to face him from a distance. She sounded embarrassed, and shy.
Aemond furrowed his brows.
“Why do you say such a thing?” He asked, colder than he had meant to sound. And it’s clear that the tone of it made her shudder more, which he didn’t intend.
“I only meant that…I hope I am pleasing to the eye…and that I shall be obedient and supportive, as a good wife should be.”
He fought the urge to smile, not wanting to embarrass her further. His silence towards her had clearly given her the wrong impression. That he didn’t approve of her, and perhaps she thought that she wasn’t suitable for him because of his reaction.
“Come here.”
She did as he asked, albeit slowly, until she stood right in front of him.
“Are you afraid of me?”
Does my appearance scare you, he thought with curiosity, and panic.
Does my ailment make you uneasy, as it does the other ladies?
She shook her head softly, “No.” She answered quietly, “It’s just… my Septa said…that the night of consummation would be…” she trailed off, speaking too quietly for him to hear.
“It is alright. Speak again, without fear.”
She swallowed as she looked at him, having to crane her neck.
“She said…the night of consummation would be painful…and that it must be endured. As wives are to be submissive and obedient to their husbands.”
She spoke as if she were speaking from a line in a book. And Aemond thought she must have had this idea stamped into her brain from a very young age. It both concerned and irritated him to think that a young child, forming into a young woman, would be forced into being so terrified of such intimacy by a caregiver who ultimately knew little about marriage.
“There will be some pain.” He replied simply, watching the way she flinched at his words, “But I do not wish for you to endure it simply because you have been told to.”
His fingers came to the tresses of hair that hung on her shoulders, threading his fingers through them and revelling in their softness. Her eyelashes fluttered and her lips parted, absorbing his words, and he could see behind them that he was challenging everything she had ever been told.
“If there is pain, you must tell me.”
She inhaled slowly, gathering her nerves, and nodded simply.
“Come. Lay on the bed.”
Though he spoke softer, there was still a coldness to the way he gave his demands. But nonetheless, she did as he said, and stared up to the canopy of the bed, feeling her heart going so fast she was sure it would burst from her chest.
All she heard was the rustling of leather, the unlooping of his belt, and the clinking of his silver clasps.
She felt the mattress dip at the end of the bed and saw her new husband, without his doublet, but with his breeches only untied halfway, so she could not see a thing. But even so, the sight of a man naked on his torso had her heart still in her chest, and warmth crawl up to her cheeks. Aemond chuckled slightly, not wishing to embarrass her.
“Have you seen a man bare before, little one?” He asked, laying down beside her. She tried with the utmost effort to not stare at him, fearing that in some way she would anger him. His chest was well-muscled and pale, shimmering in the low light of the chambers and littered with many tiny scars that had silvered with time. His hair ran like milk over his shoulders, so silky it seemed to stick to his smooth skin.
She shook her head, and mouthed ‘no’. His manhood throbbed in his breeches at the thought that she had not even seen a man beneath his clothes before, and that he would be the first.
“It is alright, there is no need to be embarrassed.” He gave her a soft smile, trying his best to appear comforting.
But it could not be ignored that they were strangers, and it was his fault that he had not gone to see her before marriage and get to know her better. And on top of that, she was afraid, not of him, but that he might hurt her and that it would define her expectations for the rest of the marriage.
She flinched noticeably in shock, not out of fear, but at not having been touched so intimately, when his palm ran softly up her leg, taking her shift with it.
“Relax.”
She tried to do as he said.
She was so jumpy and nervous, Aemond wondered for a brief, funny moment, if she had even spoken to a man before today.
So he asked a question which he thought was almost silly to ask.
“Have you ever touched yourself?”
His question was answered immediately when she flushed and her face went all warm, and suddenly she was unable to meet his gaze. She shook her head softly. And instead of feeling bad for her, a devilish grin split across his face, all the blood going south.
She was so pious, and so devoted to the Seven, that she had saved any part of her inner desires for her husband to be.
He would be the first to give her pleasure of any kind.
To touch her intimately.
To make her feel as beautiful as he thought she was.
“It is alright. I shall show you.” He added softly, his voice like the purr of a cat.
She dared to look back at him as his hand trailed higher, dipping beneath the hem of her shift to touch her smooth skin beneath, “How will it feel?...”
“It may feel strange at first,” He answered honestly, “But after that, it should be pleasurable.”
She seemed to accept his answer, but her legs were pressed together almost instinctively, like her body was telling her it needed to appear smaller. His sharp nose pressed into her hair, inhaling her pleasant, female scent. His breath against the shell of her ear, hot puffs of air landing against her neck, where he began to place one, and then two open-mouthed kisses.
His eye wandered over her from this angle. Looking down her body, he could see the shadow of what lay beneath her shift in between her breasts as they moved with her breathing, which was slow and calculated. He could see how her hands held the bedsheets below her in her palm, not tightly, but prepared to pull on them if she needed.
She shivered with a shuddered breath when he kissed her, trailing his lips lower to her collarbone, past her string of delicate pearls, and he could see that beneath the cotton, her nipples had reacted to the chill of the room, but he liked to imagine that it was because of the way he was touching her so lovingly.
His hand completely slipped past where her hip met her leg, not touching her womanhood just yet, but close enough to feel its warmth. He felt the gooseflesh on her tummy as he trailed upwards, the shift bunched against his arm when his palm slid over her breast. She gasped softly as he squeezed tenderly, testing the weight of it in his palm and kneading it, and when he looked up to her briefly, she had closed her eyes.
He would tell her to open them later, after he did what he planned.
Her hips moved towards the mattress when his deft fingers dipped between her legs, the tips parting her folds to her entrance first, where Aemond began to feel the slick, as little as there was, gathered around it.
She was beginning to feel aroused even if she didn't know it.
She whimpered, pressing her lips together when she felt his fingers in such a strange, forbidden place. Her eyebrows furrowed in discomfort.
"Shh…" He cooed, the air brushing against her cheek, "Relax, dear wife."
She swallowed thick, and relaxed her thighs so that they weren't pushed together as much. The title he'd given her making her head feel as if it were full of air and nothing else.
A part of her felt bad. For she was supposed to be an obedient, pliant little wife, and he was taking care of her so diligently and she was still afraid.
"I apologise-"
"Do not apologise." He replied quickly, and her eyes opened, glistening with a new expression of understanding, "Only feel."
Her breath quickened.
Feel?
"Feel how I touch you here -"
He drew his fingers from her entrance to her pearl, drawing little soft circles using her arousal for ease. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes glued to him, a near-indistinguishable gasp falling from her lips. She began to feel a sort of ache, deep in her stomach that felt strange. And her hips began to move in micro-movements.
"This is where you feel the most pleasure." He whispered, his fingers moving sometimes directly and then indirectly over her pearl. At others, the anticipation of them being close to it had her hips searching for the touch.
"How does it feel?" He asked.
She struggled to think of a word, having never felt this dull and yet pleasurable rush to her core.
"Strange…pleasantly so."
He continued to move slowly, not making a direct effort to make her peak like this, just allowing her to feel what the touch of a man, the touch of her husband, could feel like.
"I will prepare you like this, so that there will be as little pain as possible."
Maintaining eye contact while he said things like that, while he did things to her like this, felt so intimate and so painfully domestic. As if nobody had bothered to care for her so much in her life. Her eyes curiously flitted between his seeing one and his eyepatch, not in fear, but wondering what he might be hiding beneath it.
It would not be removed this night. Or perhaps many to come.
Aemond's fingers moved over her womanhood with ease, more slick began to pool there and lubricate her puffy folds, swollen with arousal. She was wet, but he thought not prepared enough for his cock just yet.
He shifted his body down, his cheek grazing over her still clothed form, as if he was teasing himself. He could easily have asked her to be naked for him. But there was still trust to be gained.
Her eyes were questioning where he might be going. And she truly had no idea.
Using his knee, he settled between her legs, seeing the gooseflesh still there. His hands rucked up her shift, just pausing at the point where it would reveal her womanhood, all slick and ready for him. Her cheeks bloomed as she looked down at him, but didn't have the courage to question.
"Keep your eyes on me." He whispered lowly, his fingers pushing the fabric up so that he could see her cunt, so close to his face. And he was hit right then with the invigorating scent of her, like the sweetest perfume. He felt ashamed that even the scent of her aroused little cunny made his cock weep with arousal.
She looked more embarrassed than anything to have her new husband's face so close to her intimate area she had been taught to keep hidden. And it was hard for her to keep her legs apart. But she couldn't close them for fear of clamping on his head, and his hands were tenderly keeping them spread, his fingers only slightly indented in her supple flesh.
He looked down upon her, his thumb grazing her pearl again and watching with delight as her hips moved again, accompanied with a breath. It was simply too tempting, the idea of tasting her and the sweet nectar that leaked from within.
Holding her thighs, he leaned forward and flattened his tongue against her womanhood, and something primal was awoken inside when he finally tasted his new, little wife. He moved around her folds, and whenever he had to take a breath he placed an open-mouth kiss to it. He spared a glance up at her, and he hadn’t even heard her hurried breathing or tiny whispers of moans, so engrossed in tasting her for the first time.
Her cheeks were alight, her eyes torn between settling on his gaze and what he was doing to her. He had already told her to keep her eyes on him, and Aemond felt pleased that despite how embarrassed she was, she was obeying him.
Aemond redoubled his efforts, using his tongue to part her folds and nuzzling deeper against her, his nose rubbing gently against her pearl and using his wet muscle to dip against her entrance. It’s here that she gave some semblance of a proper moan, slipping shakily out of her throat, her hands tightening on the bed sheets.
He all but moaned against her cunt, delving into the deepest parts of her and dragging his tongue against the top of her velvety walls, trying to find out why she was the way she was. What made her feel the best. How he could make more of those pretty sounds tumble past her lips. He thought he could have spent all his life between her thighs, lapping at her arousal, and he would die a happy man.
In his grip, her thighs began to shake, and her brows furrowed like she didn’t understand what this feeling coursing through her veins was, this fire ablaze in her blood. Pride flooded his head, and he dragged his tongue from the inside of her to her pearl, where he drew circles over it. She jolted in his hold, as if he’d scared her, but he knew that it was because of the overwhelming feeling that was beginning to crest over her, and the uncertainty of it.
With his attention and efforts on her bud alone and she was suitably wet, he looked up at her when he touched her entrance with the pad of his finger. He heard her gasp when he slowly sank one digit inside her, he himself struggling to keep his composure once he realised just how tight she was around his finger alone. And he could barely think straight thinking about how she would feel wrapped around his cock.
He could forgive for the time being that her eyes were closed and brows furrowed, for the new sensation must have been strange for her. Something akin to a strangled whine rumbled from her chest when he was sank all the way inside, curling upwards. And when he brushed against that spot at the top of her walls, gently caressing the slick ridges, her back arched slightly off the mattress, and he smiled against her womanhood.
It appears his little wife was becoming emboldened in her movements by what he was doing to her.
As he continued to please his wife in two separate ways, almost instinctively, her hand came to his bare shoulder. To pull him close? To push him away? She wasn’t entirely sure herself.
He could tell she was on the precipice of something she was unable to comprehend, and was embarrassed to show herself in such an open way.
 “What is it, sweet wife?” he asked, drawing his lips from her, now covered entirely in her arousal when he licked at it.
Through her loud pants, she regained her breath as he continued to tease that deep spot inside of her, “What is…” She breathed, her grip closing around his shoulders. Her nails dug into his flesh, not meaning to, which made him smirk.
“Shh, it’s alright.” He cooed, pulling out slightly to slide a second finger inside, using the girth of his fingers to stretch her cunt around him, “I am just making sure you are ready for me.”
He began to pump his fingers inside her like he would fuck her, curling them up to focus his attention and pressure against the sweet spot at the end of her. She was so tight around him, already trying to suck him further inside and clenching hard. He felt his skin stretch around her grip on his shoulder, like she didn’t realise how hard she was holding him.
“ - Aemond - I’m - ”
Aemond.
The way she called him by his name.
There was no shame now in how hard it made him, and he felt as if he would spill right in his breeches and not inside her if she was going to say things like that.
A breathy whine made its way from her mouth, her eyes tightly shut as her face twisted in pleasure, feeling all the pressure leak into her limbs in bliss while Aemond kept pleasuring her, loving how her body was uncontrollably trembling with the force of her peak. He could feel the rush of slick coat his fingers and hand, so he slowed down the pace of his movements, allowing his sweet wife to savour the feeling she’d experienced here for the first time.
“That was your peak, little one.”
Her eyes opened to focus on him, feeling her body erupt in shivers as he pulled his digits from her and smeared her wetness over her thighs, thinking that as erotic and lewd the action was, that is excited her at the place where her husband had just been caressing with his fingers and tongue.
Her pupils were dilated only a bit larger than before, and Aemond felt pride in being the first to make her feel such things, awakening a part of her that had remained dormant for a long time. And while she had been emboldened by what he’d done to please her, her cheeks still bloomed with a faint embarrassment that he found endearing.
His hands traced her sides, taking her shift with it, and her breath hitched at the idea she would be entirely bare before her new husband, who had just given her the first experience of female pleasure. But alongside the trepidation, there was excitement.
Once he pulled her shift over her head and raked his gaze over every inch of her body.
It was a fucking crime that she’d been hiding herself under that gown all evening, he thought.
He thought she was perfection, with her soft and supple curves, and he hadn’t even realised his calloused hands had been kneading her breast until she let out a breathy sound. But she didn’t protest. She just appeared somewhat uncomfortable, as this was the first time she had shown herself so openly to the opposite sex.
“You are beautiful.”
She seemed to calm at least when he said that, relieved her husband found her attractive.
He saw her eyes flit from his one seeing eye to the eyepatch covered one, curious. But she simply swallowed thickly and didn’t say or ask anything. And he too was relieved that she hadn’t asked him to remove it.
He was not sure if he would be ready for that, for some time.
She still wore the little pearls around her neck, and now with her entirely naked with the exception of that, it felt erotic and arousing.
They were the same.
She wore the necklace, he wore the eyepatch, keeping a tiny piece of themself while they joined in matrimonial bliss.
He unlaced the rest of his breeches, watching her breasts move up and down as she breathed in anticipation of what was going to happen and the irreversible fact that she would never be the same afterwards.
“Remember what I said?” he asked, pulling his breeches over his hips. His achingly hard cock sprang free, standing proud and aroused against his stomach.
She took a moment to reply, trying not to stare too much at his member as he stroked himself slowly, the ruddy tip, weeping with arousal, poked out of his fist with every languid movement. She’d never seen one before. But all she knew was that she wondered how on earth it would fit inside her, he looked so thick and long, slightly curved to one side. Was there empty space inside of her she didn’t know about where he would place himself?
Her eyes met his, all glazed over, and she nodded.
“If there is pain, I must tell you.” She repeated what he’d said earlier. Her skin bloomed, for that moment was here right before them.
She tried to relax her body, numb from the force of her very first peak, as the mattress dipped either side of her where he’d leaned on his forearms, his knee brushing the inside of her legs as he nudged them apart so he could place himself there.
“Yes, you must.” He added tenderly, “It is not my intention to hurt you.”
The affection in his words made her stomach roll.
“You are my wife.”
She confirmed with delight that she was. And she nodded, not knowing what to say in response to his statement, but Aemond could see the subtle glimmer in her eyes.
He saw her glance at his manhood with something akin to a mix of fear and curiosity, and she took a sharp breath in as Aemond leaned forward, not pressing his weight on her, and placed several open-mouthed kisses to her jaw, neck and collarbone, teasing her with his teeth, while his cock kissed her puffy folds.
She felt his breath at her skin, her grip loosening on the sheets as he made her feel a little more relaxed.
When he leant forward, parting her folds easily with the aid of her slick, the first thought she had was that it felt strange, but nothing else in particular. It was only when his cockhead had disappeard inside her and he speared her upon his length that she began to tense up, her stomach tightening somewhat unpleasantly. Her hand came automatically to his chest, to try and push him away and make him stop.
He raised his head from her neck, his eye hooded down in concern. He felt her soft, almost-hummingbird-like touch on his chest and felt something fluttering inside of him at the tenderness of it. She was in some pain, not dramatically so, and yet her touch was so gentle.
Nothing was said, and only the utmost patience was offered. And it was difficult to do so for Aemond, with the way her core was holding him so tightly, to stay still and not move an inch. But for the sake of making her feel safe, he did it.
After a moment, she made an effort to relax her muscles for him. Her hand trailed over his muscled chest, as if taking this small window of opportunity to do so. Her fingers ran over the scars he’d gained on his lithe form, wanting to commit every ridge, every little piece of him to her memory as if it was the last time she’d ever see him.
Her eyes shifted to him once he sheathed himself inside her all the way, bottoming out with a low groan. He felt her walls fluttering around him, stretching her to accommodate this size, having not felt anything like this before. Her lips parted to let a soft pained sound past her lips, but that was all, and she felt the worst was behind her.
It felt only slightly uncomfortable, but she was willing to do it for this marriage. To please him.
It was intimate, looking right at her while he was deep inside her, and she gave the faintest of nods, telling him without words that she was alright. She thought she'd never felt more full in her life, nor more connected to someone as she was right at this moment.
It hurt at first, yes, but he had prepared her, waited for her and cherished her like she was precious. And the pain, the sting of losing her maidenhead, was a small price to pay for how full her heart felt, by giving a piece of her to him.
Closing his eye, as if to concentrate, Aemond moved almost entirely out of her to push back in as she gasped below him, the same feeling the second time had a spark licking at her insides that didn’t stop as he began his slow and careful pace. He wanted to tear his gaze off her, desperately, but couldn’t.
It was just as he imagined. With every soft thrust inside her, the pearls at her neck danced, and her cheeks were flushed, eyes shimmering. It wasn’t as animalistically lustful as he envisioned. Before he imagined an innocent thing like her, bending to his will, corrupting her in any way he saw fit.
But now more than anything as he listened to the gentle moans come out of her, he wanted to protect her, to nurture and watch her flourish. The pearls clicked against each other at her neck, her breasts moved, nipples pebbled with arousal, and she’d raised her legs only slightly to wrap around his waist, blinking slowly up at him.
The whore Aegon had gotten him to fuck on his thirteenth nameday was overzealous, large-breasted and older, perhaps more experienced. She had bounced on top of him, her loud moans bouncing off every surface in the room, her hands planted on his chest as she moved her hips up and down on him with loud slaps. He remembered feeling horrified that this is what intimacy was. That this is what men would desire so relentlessly.
It didn’t feel good. And he remembered feeling sick.
But here, with her, looking so lovingly up at him. No hysterical moaning, no pathetic whines to boost his male ego. Just unapologetically everything she was feeling, she was giving to him.
It felt like a gift. To experience real intimacy. And with the person he was due to spend the remainder of his days with.
As if realising he was daydreaming, his hips still moving against her with wet slaps of skin, her hand cupped his face, on the unmarred side, and her thumb stroked over his cheekbone. She touched him so softly he could have wept.
She had seen some kind of thoughtfulness on his face, and in the throes of consummation, was supporting him.
“Aemond.”
When she said his name with such sincerity and care, he blinked slowly and reached his hand up to hers, encircling his fingers around her small wrist, and turned his face into her palm, to kiss the inside tenderly. One kiss to her palm, and one to her wrist. And it felt more intimate than kissing on the lips, which he only now realised with shame, that he’d not done for her yet.
“I am alright.”
He looked at her when she said that. It was as if she could see all of his inner thoughts, and had been able to all evening.
She saw that he had been holding back.
He had been afraid of frightening her, and yet she was allowing him what he wanted.
Her breath caught in her chest with a kind of excitement as his fingers wrapped around her wrist and forced it down to the bed beside her head, his other hand joining her other to keep her pinned tightly under him to the mattress. Her eyes glimmered as she looked up at him, watching his expression change to something more possessive.
“Put your legs around me.”
She did as he asked and raised her legs around his waist, causing his length to brush that same spot inside her that he’d pleasured just moments before. And with an iron grip on her wrists and easier access to her, he dipped his head into her neck, her scent swirling around him and fucked her as he had wanted to the entire evening.
Skin slapped against one another with the moisture of her slick on his pelvis, his stones hitting against her repeatedly with every rough thrust into her wet cunt.
"Does my innocent little wife like to be properly fucked, hm?" He grunts, watching how she blushes and turns her head away out of embarrassment.
"I think you will continue to surprise me, little pearl."
She felt her insides clench at the name he gave her.
Little pearl.
Aemond smirked, increasing the intensity of his driving into her, constantly spearing her open onto his cock, and watching at the way he disappeared into her.
"I can feel you tightening around my cock. Did you like that? Little pearl?"
Her breath was sucked from her with each devastating thrust, and that same pressure was beginning to build in her belly, from when he'd pleasured her before.
"Answer me.”
"Yes - yes, husband - " She replied, breathlessly and gulping for air, throwing her head back against the bed sheets.
He smirked, leaning back and watching how his cock was being covered in her slick everytime he pulled out of her.
He pulled her hips onto his lap, and the angle had his cockhead bullying her tender and sensitive place deep inside of her. Her eyebrows furrowed with pleasure, feeling utterly at his mercy.
Feeling proud of the reactions he was getting, his hand slipped from her hip to her bud. Her pearl. A grin splitting across his face at the lewd thoughts he was having. He circled her sensitive bud tenderly, applying just enough pressure that she clenched around him again.
If she wasn't careful, he would cum right there and then.
"Does that feel good, little one?" He teased her in a low tone, not ceasing his endless pace, pushing himself as far inside her as he could.
"Do you like it when I touch you here?"
She couldn't deny she liked it. The way her back arched, being pleasures in two ways. It was nearly overwhelming. And it took her voice from her.
"Perhaps we should name you Pearl of the Realm." He smirked, increasing both his pace and pressure, "Prim, proper…a good little obedient wife to her lord and husband."
He leaned over, changing the angle yet again.
"But in here, with me, it is this pearl I shall be paying special attention to, dear wife."
His words made her tighten around him, coupled with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving her. She felt her entire body get hot, the pressure in her belly set to explode at any moment.
His delicate and careful ministrations to her bundle of nerves was almost too much, and her hips began to move forward towards his in rhythm with his cock stretching her open, meeting him halfway.
She didn't imagine such lewd words would have an effect on her.
"Husband - "
"I think I will keep you like this. All night if I have to. Paying special attention to this precious pearl you have been neglecting for so long." He mused, his words were strained, as if set to explode himself.
"I will give you my seed. Over and over. Until I am done with you." He breathed through heavy pants, his eye slipping shut, "I will watch you swell with my child. Would you like that?"
She could only whimper in response, fisting the bed sheets as she had nothing else to hold onto, her mouth dropping open as her climax began to crest.
"I would like that. To see these perfect tits all round and full."
The idea of bearing his children was only a fantasy that appeared right at that moment.
"Gods - you are so tight - such a perfect little cunt - fuck - "
She fell apart around him, her entire body filled with such eternal feeling bliss that she felt as if she were floating, her husband's deft fingers still pleasuring her bud.
Her limbs felt numb, her blood like fire under her skin and her lips dropped apart so that a shattered moan could escape her, the only proof that her peak was decimating every nerve in her body with blinding, white hot pleasure.
She tightened impossibly around him, and the pistoning of his cock into her sex was only stilled when he slammed inside her one last time. His length throbbed within her, his spend warming her core at the end and filling her, completing this sacred, intimate ceremony.
They both gulped down air desperately and when Aemond had caught a moment to himself, he spared a look down at his sweet wife, her delicate skin covered in a soft sheen of sweat, eyes shut, breasts shifting erratically with her breathing.
She must have felt his gaze on her, because she turned her head to look up at him. In her once innocent and naive gaze he once saw fear and trepidation. And now her pupils were blown wide and glimmered with lust and a kind of pride that she'd pleased him, and they'd done this together.
Aemond still had a grip on her hips, noticing the red marks where his fingers had been. Her body was littered with them, where he'd been too tempted to nibble at her, to make sure she bore the marks of his passion for her.
He looked down where they were joined, pulling out of her and watching with a lustful curiosity at his spend that leaked from her entrance. It was instinctual, the way two fingers scooped up what had come out, and he gently plunged it back into her as far as he would go.
Overstimulated and tired, she winced, bucking her hips slightly.
Aemond only smiled down at her.
"I can hardly wait to make you a mother, little one."
She laughed a little, exhausted, "You speak of children. We have only lay together once."
Aemond took her reply and smirked, pulling her thighs close to him again.
"In that case - might we try again? I dare say I have already forgotten the first time."
His little pearl smiled tenderly up at him. A safe smile. One of utter adoration. It was like he was being seen, truly seen, for the first time in his life. She had been so good to him in the short time he'd known her, and cared enough to let him see her as well.
He felt fulfilled in a way he never had before. Something exciting ran through his blood, like how he felt whenever he trained. As if a new challenge were upon him.
Challenging the notion that had been placed upon him his entire life, that marriage was about ownership. As a wife should belong entirely to her husband.
And while he felt that sheer possessiveness before he really knew her. Knew her properly.
Now, he questioned if marriage was more about respect than anything else.
The fabric covering his eye now felt so heavy. And one day, he thought, he hoped to be able to show himself so openly to her, as she had done for him.
Aemond Targaryen was nothing if not dutiful.
And he would pay his little pearl all the attention she so deserved.
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murdrdocs · 6 months
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BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE. miguel o'hara
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description. if you're not his to have, why do you look like the one he has loved? why do you spread your legs and whine and moan for him?
includes. DARK CONTENT 18+, DUBCON & CNC ELEMENTS (it's complicated fr), SMUT 18+, slightly angsty but mostly filfthy smut, fem!reader, massive size kink, dacryphilia, p n v, oral (fem receiving), animalistic miguel (fangs and claws included), possessive miguel, reader is a variant of miguel's late wife, reader's miguel is dead, slight dumbification, power play, cervix kissing, brief mention of paralyzing reader unwillingly, told from miguel's pov (still 2nd person), creampies, like 3 spanish pet names (author does not speak spanish)
wc: 5.5k+
fanart creds to @shuploc
→ kinktober masterlist
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He stalks his prey from the window. 
The house looks the same. There’s not much dust anywhere, there’s still four seats at the kitchen table and the still slightly cluttered island, the couches are the same worn in set. He can’t tell what the floorboards are like from outside, but he figures that there’s still the scratches from young Gabriella, or the times he dragged his luggage across the living room instead of picking it up like you wanted him too. 
He wonders if the kitchen has the one mixed matched knob on the furthest left cabinet like his house does. He remembers the time he underestimated his anger fueled strength, leading to the custom made knob being ripped off the wood. He remembers how upset you were for a second, mourning the loss, and then the flare of lust in your eyes as you looked at him. 
You look the same. 
A little thinner, clothing a little more muted than before, but you’re still you. 
Even though he knows you’re not the woman he married. 
And he’s not the Miguel you married. 
But you’re still his wife. 
He notices you wear your wedding ring, the band accompanying it, and he notices you’re wearing the necklace he got you for your first anniversary. So much is the same that he finds it hard to believe he’s in a different universe. He’s finding it hard to believe that he wasn’t supposed to be here. 
But the confusion on your face when you open the door quickly reminds him. 
It takes a while for you to calm down from the hysterics. He makes you your favorite tea, marveling, because this is the same, too. He rubs your back when you start to inch more towards him than away. He coos in your ear lovingly, calling you the sweet pet names that you always responded to. 
And when your cheeks are dried just enough, Miguel’s lips are on yours. 
He meant to lead more up to it. He didn’t even think he came here for this. But you smell like you and you look like you and you feel like you and Miguel just couldn’t take it anymore. 
You stall in the kiss, freezing against him, but Miguel continues. He knows you love him. He knows you’re as eager to see him as he is to see you. And he knows you want him as much as he wants you. 
You kiss him tentatively at first, and Miguel slows to let you set the pace. He follows your lead, gently connecting his lips with yours, a hand rising to cup your cheek. He slides his palm towards your head to stick his fingers tips in your roots, digits separating around your ear. It’s shocking almost, how his hand envelopes your entire cheek; fingers spread close to your eye all the way down to your jaw. 
And it’s with this –– and your hands going to his shoulders –– that Miguel realizes just how much bigger than you he is. He almost dwarfs you in comparison, having both stature and structure over you. 
The thought makes him animalistic. 
He groans into the kiss, his other hand cupping your other cheek, and he can’t take it slow much longer. He kisses you aggressively, noses smashing together before he tilts his head, and even then his nose digs into your cheek. 
You hum, slightly apprehensively, and Miguel feels your eyebrows furrow. Your hands lay over his, and he thinks you’re going to push him away. He prepares himself. 
But you don’t. 
You keep kissing him, movements still slow so you don’t move in time like you should. 
But Miguel’s forgiving. 
He takes one of his hands away to slide it down your back, rough palm rubbing against the worn in fabric of your crewneck. It fits you a little big, Miguel remembers from when he came in, and he wonders if it’s his. The him from here, smaller due to the lack of necessity to go out in a Spiderman suit. 
The envy that he feels makes him aggressive. This time he growls. 
Miguel fists the back of your shirt, using his grip to pull you impossibly closer, and it’s with this movement that you pull back. 
He chases your lips, and you let him kiss you once, twice, and Miguel goes for a third time until your lips pull from his with a smack. 
“Miguel …” you say, voice uneasy, a little shy. Not like his wife but he remembers that you’re not his wife. 
He’s instantly apologizing, fear rising in his chest. “I’m sorry. Am I too much?”
Your smile is soft and comforting. Miguel quickly feels at ease and he suddenly wants to cry. Just the effect you’ve always had on him. 
“No. You’re never too much for me. I’ll always want you. Always.” 
And that’s the same too. His eyes soften for a second, widening as his eyebrows lift. He searches your gaze for the look, the one that tells him you want this, that this is where you want the night to go. Because he doesn’t know if that’s what you mean. 
But you smile gently, you nod, you bite down onto your bottom lip, and Miguel knows. 
His body engulfs yours. 
You lay there, small in structure, but also in nature, too. You look shy, timid, intimidated by the large man above you. Which does nothing but hardens the prominent length between Miguel’s legs. 
He likes that he has this above you. He likes that your safety, your pleasure, your comfort, all relies on him. 
Most of all, he likes how your legs spread for him, even though your mouth says something different. 
“Miguel, I don’t think we should do this. You’re not my husband, you—“
“I’m not?” He dips down, teeth nipping at your neck. It’s just his front ones this time. He licks the spot, kisses it. “Am I not your husband?” 
Your head shakes and your hands go to his shoulders. 
“N … No. You’re not my Miguel. You’re not the father of my child.” 
Miguel hisses and his chest flares with anger. He didn’t need the reminder, not at a moment like this. He fists the sheets beside your head to calm himself, but when he nips you this time, it’s with his sharp canines. It’s not strong enough to pierce your skin, maybe not even strong enough to sting. 
You suck in a sharp breath anyway, realizing you did something wrong, and you’re quick to apologize, leaving Miguel to shut it down. 
“Don’t apologize, cariño. Just be good for me, yeah? Let me feel you.” 
His free hand slides down between your legs, forcibly cupping your mound, pushing the heel of his palm into the area where your clit resides. You hiss, your back arching, but your hands push at Miguel’s shoulders. 
“Mig, this isn’t right, this isn’t—“ but he’s cutting you off, tired of hearing your excuses. 
His lips kiss at the sensitive skin of your neck as he speaks, his mind racing with how soft your skin is, and how thin the layers truly are. If he wanted to, he could easily sink his fangs into you, claiming you forever. 
He considers the thought as he chooses to gently press his lips into your skin instead. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. Missed you so much, beautiful. I need you.” Your sounds are soft, little breaths, almost mewls whenever Miguel sucks harder in a spot. 
It’s all music to his ears. It does nothing but fuels his desires more and more. He wants you louder, he wants you to whine and cry for him. 
And Miguel has always been determined. He’ll do anything to reach his goal. 
His middle and ring fingers separate from the rest on your mound to press between your lips, the pinky and pointer fingers spreading them so his middle fingers can settle between. 
Your mouth falls open. 
Miguel can tell when he hears the clearly audible breaths you let out that sound a lot more like panting than breathing. 
“You still make those pretty little noises, too, yeah?” He pulls his head out of the crook of your neck to look at you head on, brown eyes searching yours. If he’s reading you right, he’s noticing it all. There’s shock, some guilt, maybe a tiny bit of fear, but Miguel can clearly see the arousal in them. 
He can’t help but smirk, smug and overconfident as he tilts his head. “I wanna hear everything, okay? I need to hear how good I make you feel.” 
He leans down, forehead pressing against yours, and you’re so warm, nearly sweating even though Miguel has done absolutely nothing to bring you true pleasure. Your eyes close while his stay open, and Miguel takes a second to admire just how gorgeous you are. 
He takes in all of the similarities; from your eyebrows, to your eyelashes, to your nose, to your lips. But it’s beside your lip that he notices something not right. You have a scar, deep enough to be visible, clearly healed, but it’s there. His eyebrows furrow, he gets possessive, he gets angry, because you weren’t protected. You’d gotten hurt, and he knows that if he were here, the Miguel above you not the other one, this wouldn’t have happened. 
So when Miguel presses his lips to yours, it’s soft at first. Gentle for a few moments as he tries to communicate the fact that this Miguel, while he might not be your husband or the father of Gabriella, is willing to be your protector all the same.
He wants to be more gentle with this entire ordeal, but you start to kiss him back and he loses it again. He starts to devour you, face a little scrunched as he pushes his lips against yours, moving with a pressure and pace that overwhelms you. 
Your smaller hands fist at the fabric of his shirt, bunching the material up at his shoulders, pushing at them but Miguel barely even moves. Miguel understands that your reaction comes from the way he’s attacking your lips, but the more illogical part of his brain reasons that you want his shirt gone, so he pulls back long enough to yank the fabric over his head with one hand. 
It’s thrown off and into one of the clean corners of your bedroom, Miguel’s eyes quickly taking in just how clean the room is. He notices the lack of anything belonging to him, save for an old pair of sneakers that sit in the vicinity of his shirt. 
Sadness overtakes him for a second, but then he hears your soft “wow” and he turns back to you. Your eyes are tracing his exposed body, taking in his physique. Your hands reach out, hovering over his biceps before they rest fully upon them. It’s amusing to Miguel, the way you squeeze the area and your eyes widen more. 
Your heart starts to beat faster, Miguel can hear it in the silence of the bedroom, and when your eyes look at his again, he sees a bit of fear in them. 
He tries not to have a positive reaction to the emotion, but he can’t help it. He’s entertained, thinking of how you’re finally realizing that Miguel is bigger than you. So much bigger. He can do whatever he wants at this moment, and you have to take it. 
He doesn’t know if you’re aware, but you fucking whimper. You sound like a terrified pet, facing danger inescapable to them. 
Miguel reaches his free hand out, cupping your cheek just as his occupied hand starts to rub up and down your slit. Your lips part, your eyebrows push together, and Miguel smiles. 
“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say it.” 
You know the code word, Miguel made sure of it before you reached the bedroom because he would never hurt you. Not if he could control it. 
You just stare at him. Not saying anything. And Miguel subtly feels your hips shift to push further down, more into his touch. 
He takes it as his go ahead. 
He sits back on his haunches, all six feet and nine inches of him, his chest rising and falling with shallowly taken breaths as he eyes you beneath him. 
Stripped of your shirt and shorts, wearing nothing but a clearly loved bra and a pair of printed cotton panties. There’s no manufactured bow in the center of them, and Miguel briefly wonders if you still have those. He thinks back to how you’d always pull them out for date nights, or nights where Gabriella wouldn’t be home, and when he’d comment on them, hinting that you were surely expecting something, you said nothing, gently smiled, and turned towards the bathroom. 
Miguel doesn’t realize it, but he’s gotten lost just staring at this single garment. Your wiggling hips breaks him out of the trance and he slips his thick fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your panties and he starts to pull them down your legs. 
The movement is awkward, a product of your refusal to work with him. Your legs are spread too far, you won’t close them enough to let Miguel slide your panties down, it fucking frustrates him. He’s holding back a growl, his lips clamped shut in a thin line so he doesn’t snarl. 
“Baby, just close your legs a little, let me–” but his words are cut off as Miguel grips one side of your underwear with both hands, and then the fabric is broken into two. 
A sharp gasp from you and your legs clamp shut. But Miguel’s not having any of that. His hands, palms rough against your soft skin, grips your knees, muscles barely flexing as he easily pulls your legs apart. 
He briefly wonders if the lack of resistance comes from your own personal will, or if he’s just that much stronger than you. Either thought has Miguel feeling a little dizzy, his blinks slowing as your opened legs reveal a slickened cunt. 
Pretty, glistening with your juices, evidence of how much your body wants him. He starts to salivate a little, his enhanced nose picking up on the aromatic scent coming from you. 
Miguel barely realizes that it’s happening, but suddenly he’s leveled with your cunt and his breath is fanning against the most sensitive parts of you. 
You jump, moving a little further up the bed and away from him, your escape futile when large hands drape over the tops of your thighs, pulling you back to him and pushing you down into the mattress simultaneously. 
Miguel’s sure that the sound that escapes from your mouth would’ve been a whimper if he hadn’t decided that now was the time to lick a long stripe from the lowest point of your cunt, to the clit. 
It’s slow, a little torturous on his end, but it’s worth it with the reaction you give him. 
Mouth dropping, eyes widening as your eyebrows attempt to meet in the middle, your hands fisting the sheets, your hips trying to pull away from him and get closer at the same time. 
How reactive you are does nothing but excite Miguel. 
He launches forward, head burying in your essence, his nostrils flaring as he takes deep inhales. He gets lightheaded for a second, the dizziness coming back, but he reminds himself to breathe when his nose bumps against your clit and he hears you take a deep inhale. 
What follows is Miguel O’hara behaving in a way that can barely be akin to a man, more akin to a beast, as he tries his best to devour you. The sounds are sinful; Miguel’s saliva combining with your wetness, his tongue uncoordinated as it plunges into your walls and comes back out to slurp the surrounding area. 
This isn’t his best work, and he wants to correct his technique to bring you more pleasure, but he can’t get enough. He’s like a man starved, attempting to consume a meal as if someone’s waiting to take it away from him. 
Briefly, he’s reminded that someone could take this all away. He can’t stay for long, or else your universe could collapse. He shouldn’t be here in the first place. But his greed, the very thing he’s displaying now, brought him here, completely on selfish desires. 
Guilt attempts to cloak his being, but you whine and Miguel’s right back in it. 
He lifts his mouth to wrap his lips around your clit. He sucks, once, twice, flattens his tongue to swirl the bud around, and then he bares his teeth, turns his head to the left, and his right fang gently connects with the sensitive nerve ending. 
A little gasp comes from you. “Fuck,” you whisper, and Miguel wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.
It’s a positive reaction, he figures, so he does it again. And again. And one more time before he has two fingers plunging into your walls, inching further in even as you heave. 
“Not used to this, are you? Your little fingers haven’t been cutting it. Need something bigger to fill you up.” 
Miguel lifts himself again, arm going to rest beside your head, body hovering over yours once more. 
You don’t say anything, but Miguel’s fine with that. The pads of his fingers are deep inside of you, they’re massaging your walls, curled and reaching for the spot that Miguel still hasn’t forgotten. He finds it after a little too long, and you try to stifle the sound by biting onto your bottom lip, but Miguel can see the pleasure. 
It shows in your wide, pleading eyes. In your raised eyebrows. In your flared nostrils. 
He smirks, proud of himself, and pays special attention there. 
“That’s it. There it is. ‘S all the same.” 
He kisses your cheek and his fingers slowly pull out, only to thrust back in, finding the area of that spot over and over again. It has you mewling, your legs spread, your body clearly enjoying it even though you pretend the opposite. 
“Mig, Miguel, please, I … I’m, it’s all…” You’re saying so much but so little. Little jumbles of words that preface something that never comes. He can’t tell if you’re begging him to keep going or to stop. He doesn’t know if he could stop even if he wanted to. 
Not with the way you’re so obviously close. 
One of your hands fling to wrap around Miguel’s wrist, and he fucking laughs when he sees that your pointer finger and thumb is miles apart, on opposites sides of his wrist. 
“Don’t know how you’re gonna take this cock, baby. So fucking tiny beneath me. ‘M gonna split you open.” The words are whispered in your ear, meant as a warning, maybe even a promise, but it feels borderline threatening coming through his bared teeth. 
Your head turns away from him, your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re practically intelligible when you say, “‘M close.” 
It’s like Miguel’s been presented with a goal that could alter everything. He needs to make you come, this time being the first of many tonight. 
He has a thirst that can only be satisfied by feeling your walls squeeze and flutter around his fingers. 
He kisses your temple, his fingers speed up, and he’s encouraging you. 
Not even a few moments later Miguel’s fingers are constricted. His hand lifts with your hips, his ears drink in the sounds you let out; little moans and huffs of air that you’re clearly trying to keep hidden. Which Miguel is fine with for now, because he knows in due time you’ll be screaming around his cock, not even aware of the sounds that you make as you reside in complete ecstasy. 
You’re barely calmed down, the occasional twitch still in your legs, before you’re looking over at him. 
He stands off to the side of the bed now, eyes on you as his thumbs dig into the elastic of his gray sweatpants. He tugs them down, watching your eyes trail down his body. He exhales, abs flexing with the breath, and your eyes get just a little wider. 
But when his sweats are on the floor, and he’s stepped out of them, your eyes are low, lidded not just from the directional change, trained on the way his cock is straining against the stretchy fabric of his briefs. 
He steps closer, hand cupping your cheek, head dipped as he looks at you. 
“Would you like to do the honors?” A phrase he’s uttered frequently to you in this setting. Usually a wicked smile, and eager hands is your response. 
Now, you tilt your head, assumingly letting the words translate in your head, and Miguel realizes that it’s really been a while since you’ve had your Miguel. 
When you understand, your hand reaches out to his boxers, but then it stops midway. 
Miguel nods. “Come on, don’t be shy.” 
Then your nails scratch at his lower abdomen, beginning to stick under the elastic. 
“There you go.” His eyes turn down, watching his crotch, watching your hand disappear beneath the fabric. They flutter shut when you wrap your hand around him. 
The first touch is always the best for Miguel. He shudders, the feeling translating to a shaky breath. 
He wants to keep his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of you starting to timidly stroke him, but he feels eyes on him, and there’s nothing Miguel loves more than your eyes. 
So he looks down at you, he watches you as your hand trails to the tip of his cock, thumb smearing the precum along the circumference to give you better slip. 
Your hand glides up and down the expanse of Miguel’s cock, feeling him up, working him slowly. 
It feels nice. But it’s not nearly enough. 
Miguel takes the liberty to pull his briefs down his hips, the garment meeting the same fate as his pants. 
Your hand is still around him, but your grip falters just a bit when his cock springs free. 
Miguel watches your eyes size him up, taking in the sheer length and girth of him. 
He can already predict what you’re going to say before you go. 
“Miguel. It’s not gonna fit.”
The fear returns to you. It shines in your eyes, flares in your chest, scrapes up your limbs and leaves goosebumps in its trail. 
His head shakes. “It’ll fit, amor. I’ll make sure it fits.” 
He wants the words to soothe you. He hopes the words will soothe you. 
But as he situates himself between your legs, as he arranges your legs to lay over his, as he starts to line himself up, you look even more fearful. 
You’re clenched tight, it’s showing in your entire body, so Miguel rubs his thumbs along your hips, and he gives you what he thinks is a comforting look. He hasn’t been able to contort his features into that look for a while now, and he’s sure that he’s out of practice, but it works.
Your eyes set on his face, they roam over his features, then they lock onto his eyes like meeting a target. 
There’s an unspoken agreement for him to proceed. 
So he does. 
You’re tight. Miguel knew you would be, but it’s still slightly unexpected. He can’t help but hiss as the head starts to breach. You’re tight. 
“Baby. Let me in. Breathe.”
You try to do so, but it’s like no matter how many calming breaths you take, you get tighter as Miguel continues to push. 
It gets to the point where Miguel has no choice but to keep going, hoping that his attempt at soothing words work as he buries himself to the hilt. Miraculously, it’s only then that you relax, the feeling of loosening alerting Miguel of the change. 
He looks at your expression, satisfied to see your features slack, starting to morph into pleasure once more. 
He starts to move, slow drags out and even slower pushes back in. 
They’re intended to allow you room to adjust, to cease your whines and provide you comfort, in an alarmingly discomforting situation. Miguel thinks it’s working. You go mostly silent, he wrenches his eyes closed in pleasure, but they peel back open whenever he hears sniffles. 
It’s impossible for him to continue holding back when you look at him all pretty like this. Tears streaming down the sides of your face, pooling in your hair, salty liquid sticking your eyelashes together as you blink pathetically up at him. 
Something tugs at him, telling him to give it his all. 
So he does. He takes what he wants. 
He takes what he deserves. 
His snapping into yours with a force that sends you up the bed each time. He refuses to let you off the hook like this, hands gripping your hips, your soft and supple skin pinched between calloused fingers. You whine, crying out desperately as you push at Miguel’s hands. 
He doesn’t let up, believing that this is the only way to keep you close to him. Even if it hurts. 
He gives you some reprieve, however, taking away one of his hands to slide up the back of your thigh. He hooks your limb over his hip, encouraging you to dig your heel into the dimples at his lower back. It’s something the you that belongs to him would’ve done, and there’s a split second of fear in his chest as he anxiously waits for you to do it now. 
Whenever you do, the heel of your foot pressing into the skin right above his ass, he snarls. It’s unfiltered, an accident, but it’s real and raw. 
His claws come out and they swipe at your skin accidentally. A gasp from you, then a wince, alerts Miguel of the mishap, and his heart stops. His hips stop. He’s hurt you. He’s done the thing he swore he never would. 
You look at the bleeding cut, then at him, and Miguel doesn’t see hurt in your face. Instead, you pull him closer, arching your back, pushing your hips into his and grinding as best as you can against him. 
You go from stoic and pliant to untamed, your own nails digging into his forearms, your hips lifting off of the bed in what should be an unattractive motion. 
Yet there’s nothing that you could do that could be unattractive in Miguel’s eyes. 
He’s sworn to love you forever, despite the Universal difference. 
He licks his lips, and with the motion he feels his fangs. Sharp, pointy, ready to plunge into whatever flesh he can reach. He once again considers it for a second, sinking his teeth into your thigh and rendering your limbs useless. Keeping you stuck to the bed for him to use and abuse however he’d like. 
But you’ve been behaving so well tonight. So he finds no need. 
Miguel angles his hips differently and you whimper, the sound sweet and small and soft from you. It resembles a “hng”, tailoring off into a gasp towards the end that has Miguel grunting in response. 
“Acting like you’ve never been fucked like this before.” His voice is rough, lacking any romanticism in the tone. He could barely care less.
“Maybe you haven’t. Has no man taken you like this? This sweet, supple body, left unused for this long. You know that’s not your purpose. You’re wasting your potential, honey. This is what you’re made for.” He punctuates his statement with a piercing thrust, hitting a spot that makes you gasp sharply. 
“Made to give men like me pleasure. Not many can take what I can give, but you can, right?” You nod eagerly, seemingly attempting to prove your agreement by taking a deep breath and relaxing your cunt around Miguel enough for him to slide just a little deeper. 
He smirks, hand reaching to your tit where he strokes your nipple with his thumb. “Such a good girl. Probably make a good little housewife too. Maybe I'll stick around. We could do this more often. Get this tight little body to take me 24/7 until it’s second nature. I can feel her struggling around me. Pussy’s too tight. Hasn’t had a big cock to fill it in a while. But that’s alright, we can train her. She’ll be as good as new in no time, yeah?” 
It seems he’s fucked you too good, beyond any verbal or nonverbal responses from you. Instead, you’re a mess of whines and groans. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling at the corner just before it fills over and slides down your chin. It doesn’t bother you, or you have more important things to focus on, because you let it glide down until it sits in your clavicle. 
Miguel’s ego inflates as he watches you fall apart like this. Earlier tonight you were the picture of perfection; a neat outfit, a neat home, your emotions and responses polished. But you shed all of that for him. Because of him. 
In his mind, there’s no greater honor. 
Especially whenever he slides his hand down to your clit, flicks your bud one, two, three, times, and then your back arches as your orgasm travels through your body. 
He sees it start in your loins first. Your pelvis rocks against his ferociously, and then it stops, twitching every so often as your orgasm travels to your limbs then. Your legs lifting, hovering on either side of Miguel and twitching sporadically as he continues to fuck you despite your feeble hands pushing at his shoulders. 
He’s bigger than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and he knows what’s best. He knows your body better than you do. He knows you can handle another. 
He knows you need another. 
So he continues. 
He hooks your legs over his shoulders, presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, and starts fucking you to a second round of completion. 
Your eyes squeeze shut, your body tensing as you brace yourself through the pain. But Miguel tuts. 
“None of that, baby. Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel this way.” It takes you a second. You huff, your eyebrows push together. 
Miguel rolls his eyes. He lifts one hand, taps your cheek with enough force to have your eyes snap open, and then he grips your face. “I said: Look at me.” 
You do as told now, fear flashing through your eyes, and Miguel grins. He likes the power. He likes this feeling. 
“There you go. That’s it.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now give me another. Just one more, my love.” 
He’s so deep within you, your arousal leaking out around him, giving him access to the uncharted parts of you by virtue of providing absolutely no resistance. There’s possibly the easiest slip and slide happening between the two of you, Miguel’s cock entering and exiting your cunt rapidly, shallow thrusts that reach mere inches away from your cervix each time. 
Each drive into you prompts a sound, a gasp or moan or just a force of air from your diaphragm. They spur Miguel on, the vigilante adjusting your leg over his shoulder just a little, his chest almost parallel to yours as he forces himself deeper and fucks you harder. 
“C’mon, baby. When you’re ready, just let go for me.” 
He’s close at this point, too, but he absolutely refuses to cum without you clenching around him.
His wish comes true just a few thrusts later. This orgasm builds longer, your walls starting to flutter a few moments before your moans crescendo. 
“There we go. There we––” His words are cut off short as his orgasm pushes through his body. His balls twitch, his hips stutter, and he’s shooting warm ropes into your fluttering cunt. He can feel his claws come out and pierce the fabric of your mattress, but he doesn’t think about how he’ll replace it yet. Instead he focuses on this feeling. 
The euphoria taking over every fiber of his being as his hips automatically piston into you a couple of times as your cunt greedily milks him. It’s not until he has none left that he pulls out of you, his cock steadily softening, creating a sensitivity that has Miguel wincing. 
You’re silent except for a few breaths and Miguel mirrors your state. 
You both lay there, staring at the ceiling, and Miguel looks over at you after what could be anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes. 
You’re already looking at him, smiling softly. He smiles, too, his features getting softer whenever your hand raises and cups his cheek. He places his hand over yours, body relaxing when he feels your wedding ring. 
“I’m glad you came back to me,” you say, voice earnest and honest. 
Miguel pulls you into his chest.
5K notes · View notes
munson-blurbs · 12 days
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Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.
A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰
WC: 3.8k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers
Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika
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“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”
“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”
You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down. 
“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”
He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.” 
He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them. 
“I’m serious.”
Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”
“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint. 
“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?
“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”
He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office. 
Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again. 
Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground. 
You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner. 
What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone. 
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Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl. 
Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates. 
“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”
Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”
You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.” 
“Really?”
“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”
Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around. 
Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.
The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe. 
Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves. 
“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing. 
“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination. 
Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though. 
A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.
“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman. 
Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction. 
You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen. 
Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone. 
The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”
“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”
A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”
Eddie smirks. “One…two—”
Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits. 
Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself. 
Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land. 
His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though. 
Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet. 
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?
Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk. 
In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside. 
Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit. 
“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”
“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you. 
“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”
“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds. 
“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”
“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”
“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”
He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”
“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so. 
“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”
A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”
“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”
“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”
Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”
“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”
He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey. 
All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—
A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”
“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”
“Don’t care.”
Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies. 
Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs. 
Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately. 
“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.” 
You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch. 
Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter. 
“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you. 
The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice. 
One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible. 
“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”
He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom. 
The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.
“Get the fuck out!” you hiss. 
Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.
Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.
“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.” 
Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them. 
Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”
You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind. 
“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”
“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle. 
A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”
“Only for you,” you echo. 
He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”
The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror. 
When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.
“Atta girl,” he praises. 
At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”
The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle. 
He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”
You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip. 
“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading. 
“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached. 
“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”
You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.” 
Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl. 
One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”
“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles. 
“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”
He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you. 
Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him. 
A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.
“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.
“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”
Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in. 
The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.
“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had. 
Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown. 
“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”
A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.
“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”
A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can. 
“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”
You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”
Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur: 
“You read my mind, Beautiful.”
--
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rip-quizilla · 9 months
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1405 Peach Tree Lane
Pairing: Older!Neighbor!Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: You like to watch your older, tatted shirtless neighbor now his lawn. He likes to watch you laying by your parents’ pool in those swimsuits that make his mouth water. Eventually, the inevitable happens when he invites you across the street for a drink.
Word Count: 8.2K
Tags: 🔥SMUT, modern au, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, slight breeding kink, spitting, light dom/sub, unprotected sex (reader has an iud), oral sex, p in v sex, shower sex, masturbation in a hot tub
(A/N: This is some of the filthiest shit I think I've ever written. You're welcome. Also I was very quick with the proofread, so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you don't.)
💜💜💜
Everyone in the posh gated community of Forest Hills knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane.
The house was beautiful, as were all the houses in the upper-crust neighborhood- but the house wasn’t what people paid attention to.
Every housewife in the neighborhood knew that if they were lucky and timed their morning jog just right, they’d catch a glimpse of the toned, inked-up adonis who lived there while he shirtlessly mowed his lush green lawn. 
You might not have done much speaking with the housewives in your parents’ neighborhood, but you knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane- you had a perfect view of its front lawn from your lounge chair by the pool in your parents’ backyard. Luckily for you, all that separated your backyard from 1405 was a short wrought iron fence and a narrow stretch of road.
You didn’t mind living with your parents during the summers you spent home from college; they gave you plenty of freedom and while they were at work during the day, you got to spend the afternoon lounging by the pool, reading a book and soaking up the sun.  
As well as soaking up the view of the way that same sunlight glinted off Mr. 1405’s sweaty, ink-riddled skin. 
You didn’t speak to him- what would you even say? “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, my favorite part of the day is guessing what your tattoos mean.”? Or maybe, “Hey there neighbor, mind if I count the freckles on your shoulders? It’s for science.”
Eventually, the inevitable happened- he caught you staring. 
He didn’t make it awkward, though. In fact, from the way he simply smiled and waved at you, you wondered if he thought your eyes meeting him had just been a coincidence, and you hadn’t been ogling him for the past thirty minutes and some change. You’d smiled back, thankful for your huge sunglasses that hid the way your eyes had widened under his attention, and waved in return. 
An even bigger surprise had been that he spoke to you this time. 
“That book any good?” 
His voice, heavy with labored breathing under the exhaustion from finishing up his lawn work, had caught you completely off guard. You’d laughed nervously, sticking your bookmark between the pages and pushing yourself up from your face-down position on the flattened lounge chair. 
“Oh! Ah-ha, uhm, yeah!” you shifted your weight back until you were sitting on spread knees and looking up at the source of the voice. On the other side of your parents’ fence stood Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, sweaty and slightly sunburned on the tops of his shoulders. His curly brown hair had been piled into a messy knot atop his head, and you took note of the details that you hadn’t noticed from far away- a smattering of silver studs that decorated his ears, along with one on his nose. Five o’clock shadow that dusted his jawline. A more detailed view of his tattoos, some of which looked older than others but all of which looked very, very sexy on this man who had so much sex appeal already. 
The crinkling of his plastic water bottle as he squeezed about half of it into his mouth filled the silence between you. After a loud gulp he piped up again.
“What’s it about?”
Your brow wrinkled confusedly before you remembered that he had just asked you about your book. “Oh!” you replied dumbly, looking down at the book as if you had completely forgotten that books even existed- looking at him had taken up your entire mental capacity, apparently. “It’s, uh, it’s a memoir! It’s this cool old lady’s life story, she does not hold back, so the narration is pretty hilarious a lot of the time.”
The inked-up Greek god smiled and nodded, eyebrows raising in interest. “That does sound good.” he mused, and his voice took on a slyer tone when he added, “What’s your definition of old, like thirty-five?” He chuckled as if he’d just told a funny joke, but your smile had all but fallen from your face. 
“That’s not old,” you replied, not taking the joke, “This author was in her late seventies when she published this book, but even with that being said, this book is just told through such a youthful spirit- it’s easy to forget how old the author is when looking at her words.” You gripped the paperback a little tighter in your sweaty hands. “Plus, old people definitely don’t have the energy to mow their own lawns, and I have a feeling you’re not thirty-five.” 
That seemed to catch him off-guard. A surprised laugh escaped him, exploding from his lips before they formed an intrigued grin and his arms crossed over his tattooed chest. 
“Oh yeah? How old do I look, then?”
You grinned back, making a show of removing your sunglasses so that you could peer at him with greater focus. “Hmmmmmm…thirty-six?” 
Another laugh, this one heartier than the last. “You flatter me, sweetheart.” 
God, his voice is like brown sugar.
You tried again. “Forty, then.”
“Older.”
“No way.”
His grin became a smirk. “Are you patronizing me right now?”
You threw up a girl scout salute. “Scout’s honor, I would never.” 
He chuckled. “Well, girl scout, I’ll be forty-five next month.”
“I’ll be sure to warn my parents about the rager you’ll be throwing.”
He peered up at your house behind you, like he just now noticed its- and your parents’- existence. “Nah,” he said, “No ragers for me, that ship sailed when I was your age.”
You smiled sweetly, placing your sunglasses atop your head. “At least let me bake you a cake, then, wouldn’t be neighborly to let you have a boring birthday.”
“You’d bake a cake for ‘lil old me, sweetheart?” His tattooed hand splayed over his heart, sweaty and shining in the blaring afternoon sun.
You giggled. You could get used to Mr. 1405 calling you ‘sweetheart’. 
“Sure thing, just tell me what name to write in between ‘happy birthday’ and ‘forever young’.”
A flash of dazzling white teeth replied, “Eddie. Eddie Munson.” 
That was when you rose a step above the housewives of Forest Hills- to them, he was still Mr. 1405, but to you? He was Eddie Munson.
You entertained yourselves with little conversations here and there whenever Eddie worked out on his lawn. You, always in a swimsuit and him, never wearing a shirt. You would ask him about his tattoos- what they symbolized, which ones he’d drawn himself before they were replicated on his flesh. He would ask you about what you were reading- it was always changing. Sometimes nonfiction, sometimes romance, fantasy, lit fic… he seemed impressed by your insatiable reading habits. 
One day, however, he’d been particularly interested in a book whose cover bore a bare-chested  gentleman and particularly busty woman in a corset. 
“What’s today’s read, girl scout?” Eddie had greeted you with a nod toward the obviously risque reading material and a knowing smirk as he let his arms dangle over the black bars of your fence. 
You looked up, glowing from the sweat that’s gathered on your dewy summer skin and smiled tightly. “Oh, just a period romance. Ball gowns, forbidden love, the scandalous touching of hands without gloves on- things like that.”
“From the looks of that cover, I don’t think their hands are the only naked body parts touching in that story.” 
You laughed, glancing at the cover as Eddie waggled his eyebrows. “You’re probably right, but who knows? I’m only on the second chapter. I’ll keep you posted though.” you punctuated that last part with a wink. 
“Oh please do, princess,” Eddie said with a wolfish grin. “I love a good smutty romance novel.” 
You gawked. “No way you read this shit, you’re bluffing.”
Eddie raised a hand as if swearing on a bible. “Scout’s honor.” he said, mimicking your swear from the day you’d met. 
You shook your head, smiling ear to ear. “You must be the first man I’ve met who openly admits to reading smut, and I respect that.”
Eddie shrugged. “Easiest way to know what women want- they’re literally writing me an instruction manual. It’d be stupid not to read them.”
You bit your bottom lip before you could stop yourself, making a mental note of that little tidbit of information. “And you enjoy them?”
“It’s porn, sweetheart,” he said, gazing at you incredulously. “Who wouldn’t enjoy it?”
“It’s porn with a plot.”
“I’m a sucker for a good plot, especially if the plot involves sucking.”
You barked out a laugh. “And one could also argue that it’s more emotional porn than physical.”
“Are you insinuating that I don’t have a heart? Because I’ve got one, princess, and it bleeds, it yearns-”
Eddie pantomimed grasping at his own heart in his chest, putting on a fucking one-man show as he hung onto the fence for dear life as if his heart were truly bleeding out. You laughed- that was something that seemed to happen more when Eddie was around- you laughed more than usual, so much that you found your cheeks aching whenever he walked away. 
This time, something else ached as you watched him return to his lawn. As you continued to read, you were acutely aware of the heat between your thighs, the wetness that accumulated as you pictured corseted girls and muscled viscounts making eyes at each other across a sea of dancing courtiers. You imagined yourself, cornered in a rich rose garden bathed in moonlight, struggling to stifle your moans as a man in a tailcoat left a mark on your neck. You felt his hand hiking up your layers of petticoats until it reached your thigh, the only thing separating skin from skin being the white fabric of his gloves. You pictured his eyes, brown and bottomless as he moaned at the feeling of your hands tangled and tugging on his soft brown curls-
Uh oh. 
You took a deep breath, bookmarked your page, and slipped into the cold water of the pool. You sincerely hoped that Eddie hadn’t been serious about an update on the smut in your novel; you didn’t exactly want to let slip that at some point, you’d stopped picturing the viscount and started picturing him. 
But would he mind? Would he be upset to know that you’d pictured his hands on you, his lips on your pulse, your fingers in his hair? 
You weren’t sure he would. 
In fact, you had a feeling he might actually picture you in situations that weren’t too different. After all, you weren’t blind- you’d noticed the way his eyes would flit down from your face when the two of you were talking. He didn’t seem to put much effort into hiding his once-overs, his raking gaze that seemed more than pleased by the way your swimsuits hugged your curves, pulled your cleavage together, cut higher on your hip than your shorts ever would. Whenever you pulled yourself up from lying on your stomach, you’d seen how his eyes followed your ass hungrily as it left his line of sight. 
That was the moment that you realized- Eddie Munson, more than likely, wanted to fuck you. 
And you definitely wanted to fuck him. 
So the next time he came over to see you after mowing his lawn, you offered him a beer. 
“I’m already halfway through mine,” you said, leaning back to give him a full view of the way the sweat on your breasts shone in the hot sun. “don’t make me day drink alone.”
A salacious grin curled on his plush pink lips. “I could be tempted,” Eddie peered at the cooler beside you. “What are you drinking, sweetheart?”
You opened the cooler so that he could see the six pack of light lagers in shiny green bottles. Eddie wrinkled his nose distastefully. “Alright, young padawan,” he sighed, unlatching the gate to your backyard. “It’s time you learned your first lesson from Master Munson.” He didn’t enter the backyard, simply opened the gate and waited for you to join him outside your parents’ property. 
You quirked an eyebrow; this was new territory. That wrought iron fence had always served as a sort of barrier between the two of you, never occupying the same space and keeping each other at arm’s length- flirty banter, but with boundaries. 
Now, you smiled shrewdly as you slipped on your flip flops and crossed the threshold into Eddie’s space, following him across the narrow street to his driveway.
“Oh so I’m your student now, Master?” you quipped, launching him into a dark chuckle and a shake of his curls. 
“Christ,” he cursed under his breath low enough that he probably thought you hadn’t heard- but you did. “Well, your college friends are obviously shitty teachers if your drink of choice is a basic ass bottle you can grab at the goddamn gas station.” 
You scoffed, “Oh, what- are you trying to say you’re one of those pretentious beer snobs who only drinks micro-brewed IPA’s named after bad puns?”
Eddie laughed out loud, smiling ear to ear at you over his shoulder. “Oh that’s exactly what I am, princess!” The harsh sunlight finally relented as the two of you crossed into Eddie’s garage, and you followed him in a beeline to the old refrigerator in the corner opposite from his impressive-looking toolbench. 
You nearly moaned with relief when the cool air from the fridge hit you as Eddie opened the door and grabbed a couple of unmarked silver cans from the middle shelf. You eyed them cautiously, which Eddie saw and snorted at when he saw your expression. “Not poisoning you, sweetheart, no need to worry.” He opened a door beside the fridge that you guessed- judging by what you could see past the doorway- led to his kitchen. “A friend of mine is a home-brewer, he gives these to me and the guys for free. Way better than any cookie-cutter shit you’ll find at a college party.” He held the door open for you, nodding his head toward the doorway. “You coming inside? It’s hot as hell out here.”
You hadn’t expected him to invite you into his home; it occurred to you suddenly that you were still only wearing your swimsuit. Smiling shyly, you stepped through the doorway, the chill of the air conditioning rolling goosebumps over your damp skin. Eddie stepped into the kitchen and immediately began opening the cans, handing one to you. 
You eyed the can cautiously, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know what I’m about to drink?’ 
He smiled mischievously, inclining his head toward you as he held his can aloft. “First lesson, padawan- trust your master.” He tilted the can in your direction, to which you sighed and tapped your can to his. 
Your eyes widened in surprise when the cold, bubbly liquid hit your lips. It wasn’t anything like you were expecting- instead of the tepid wheaty taste that you were used to. At first the drink was tart, but after a second it faded into a fruity dryness that reminded you of white wine. Its  flavor was so light that you couldn’t even tell you were drinking beer.
“This is beer?” 
Eddie chuckled. “Technically it’s a sour, but yes- it’s a type of beer. Dustin said it was a champagne sour, so if you like wine then hopefully this’d be up your alley.” 
You smiled as you took your second sip. “I do like wine.” you murmured, testing the flavors on your tongue. “Like this, too. Your friend ever think about selling what he brews?”
“Dustin?” Eddie asked, laughing as if the question were something funny. “Oh I have no doubt he’ll try to sell it one day, but he’s not going to even think about it until he knows he’s perfected his recipe.”
As you took another sip of the cold drink, you felt another wave of goosebumps run through you. Coincidentally, this was the moment that Eddie fell perfectly silent. You peered over your can- his eyes were fixed on your chest. You became acutely aware that the goosebumps had resulted in your nipples growing so hard, you thought if something-anything- were to accidentally brush against them, you might moan from the sensitivity. 
Stifling a smirk, you shivered and hugged your upper arms. “Brrrrr it’s cold in here!” you said coyly, “I guess my body temperature got a little too used to the heat.” 
Eddie’s chest heaved slightly at the way your tits bounced and squeezed together when you shivered. He cleared his throat, looking down at the beer can in his hand for a moment. “I’ve got a hot tub, you know,” He spoke up, peering at you to gauge your reaction. “Downstairs. You’re welcome to it.”
You took another sip. “Only if you join me.”
His dark eyes snapped up to yours, lips curling up at one corner. “Yes ma’am.” he said, his voice lowered an octave and a bit huskier than before. You held his eye contact, mirroring his lopsided grin with a charged, heavy-lidded gaze. 
Eddie led you to a staircase down the hall and said he’d be right back with a towel for you after he changed into swim trunks. 
“Aw, no speedo?” you smirked. Eddie appeared unphased. “Mental note,” he murmured to himself, “the princess is eager to see my thighs.”
You giggled, “There might be more tattoos there I haven’t seen yet,” you countered, “How am I supposed to keep figuring you out if I don’t know the meaning of each and every one?” 
Eddie placed his forearm above your head on the wall, leaning into it until he was close enough for you to feel his breath on your hairline. “You know, you seem to spend a lot of time staring at my body, kid-” You bristled at his blatant omission of the nicknames you liked. “-I’m starting to feel objectified.” 
You forced the smile from your face, looking up at him defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Munson,” you replied, “-and I’m not a ‘kid’.”
His position didn’t change as his eyes raked over your nearly naked body, drifting from your eyes to your lips and catching on your cleavage. “Don’t I know it, sweetheart.” he whispered, before pushing off the wall. “Hot tub’s already heated, just push off the cover and hit the green button. I’ll be down in a sec.”
And then he was walking down the hall to what you could only assume was his bedroom. For a moment, you thought about following him… but if you were honest with yourself, you were actually pretty curious about this hot tub. So down the stairs you went, carrying a silver can of sour in each hand.
Eddie’s basement was cozy, but he had utilized the space to its full potential. The majority had been filled with workout equipment to create a home gym, the walls lined with floor to ceiling mirrors that created the illusion of a larger space than it actually was. Sitting on stylish wooden slats was the hot tub, topped with a brown leather cover. To the right of the hot tub was a door with a small window that was just at your eye level. Upon closer inspection… yep, that was a sauna. Eddie had a sauna. 
Shaking your head in disbelief, you made a mental note to ask Eddie what he did for a living- as far as you could tell, he was the only one who lived here. How did a single guy in his forties have so much money to burn? 
Placing yours and Eddie’s drinks down on a nearby surface, you removed the cover from the hot tub and pressed the green button as Eddie had instructed, and settled into the hot, bubbling water. God, it was relaxing. Just then, you heard footsteps descending the stairs.
Eddie appeared, his hair let down from his normal messy bun so that it fell in dark chocolate curls that cascaded over his shoulders. His swim trunks, simple and black with little white skulls lining the cuffs above his knees, hugged his thighs in a way that made you salivate. Tattoos you'd become all too familiar with danced across his skin, and you suddenly felt the need to taste them.  
Eddie smirked when he saw you getting an eyeful without even trying to hide it. “How’s the water?”
You hummed, relaxing further into jets against your back. “Sooooooo nice.” You sighed. 
Eddie climbed into the hot tub to join you, making you squeal as he practically fell into the water, splashing you as he submerged his head just enough to wet his hair and shake it out like a golden retriever.
You giggled, doing your best to ensure that your hair wasn’t wet enough to make you look like a wet rat. “I’m starting to think you’re a teenage boy trapped in the body of a middle-aged man.” 
Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, tattooed arms stretching out over the edges of the tub as he relaxed into the seat across from you. “Hey now,” he said, voice laced with warning. “Careful with the term middle-aged there, kiddo.”
You matched his gaze, challenging. “Kiddo?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Eddie’s gaze was heavy, cocky as he looked down his nose at you. “Practically a baby.”
You grinned. “That one, I don’t mind.”
Eddie’s smile grew in tandem. “Oh, she likes to be ‘baby’, but not ‘kiddo’, huh?”
You leaned back into the water, looking up at the ceiling with a smug smile on your lips. “That’s right, grandpa.”
Suddenly, you felt a tug on your ankle and you were underwater. You emerged, spitting chlorine out of your mouth, struggling to force it from your nose as Eddie’s cackling rang in your ears. You gasped, sputtering in shock as you tried to catch your breath. 
“You are a child!” you squealed as he tugged your ankle again- you hadn’t noticed his hold still grasping tightly- not forceful enough to bring you back under the surface but enough to remind you that he could.
“So not a grandpa, then?” Eddie teased, stroking the curve of your ankle with his thumb. 
You gritted your teeth together, strategizing. “No, that would be too kind. You’ve got the maturity of a teenager. Luckily for me-” 
Using Eddie’s grip on your ankle as leverage, you forcefully pulled yourself forward by your leg and launched yourself right into his lap, bending your knees so that a second later, you were straddling him. 
You watched triumphantly as Eddie’s eyes widened, looking up at you with breath that hitched in his throat as you finished your sentence. 
“-I know how boys like you think.”
The humor between the two of you dissipated in that instant, Eddie’s eyes blown wide and dark as he watched the way the water in your hair dripped down your neck and between your breasts, which were now inches from his face. If he leaned forward, he could catch that bead of water with his tongue. If he reached up, he could hold your tits in his hands, test their weight. Press them up, squish them together, squeeze…
You felt him growing hard beneath you, and smirked triumphantly. “See?” You said smugly, grinding against him teasingly. “Right on schedule.”
Eddie chuckled, his breathing strained as he shook his head exasperatedly. “Got me all figured out, do you princess?” 
You nodded, finding your rhythm as you continued to grind against his hardening cock through his swim trunks. “I think I’m starting to.”
You shivered despite the warmth as Eddie trailed his hand from your ankle up your leg, your hip, your waist…finally resting at the apex of your sternum to splay across your neck. You hadn’t been expecting that- you faltered, breath hitching as he tested out a gentle squeeze and hummed to himself.
“Mmmmm…” He looked you over with passive attention, taking account of the way your eyes widened and your pulse quickened under his thumb. “...you know, I’m starting to figure you out too.” His other hand cupped your hip, pulling you to sit directly on his erection and holding you in place so you couldn’t grind. “You’re used to getting away with shit you know you shouldn’t do, isn’t that right, baby?” You sighed softly in response, pinned into place by his lust-blown eyes. You balanced on a precipice- on one side, obedience, which you knew would satisfy him. On the other, eventual obedience with a little bit more fight; more of a gamble, but you were willing to bet that he would enjoy that best.
“You really thought you could eye-fuck me every damn afternoon,” Eddie said, his hand on your neck moving lower to fondle one of your breasts over your swimsuit. “-and there wouldn’t be consequences?”
You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling under his hand. “I mean…” you drawled, still smiling smugly despite his authoritative tone of voice. “...I was kinda hoping for consequences.” you brought both hands out of the water, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 
A second passed before Eddie’s hands suddenly grabbed both of your wrists, forcing them behind your back. You gasped, cheeks hot from the water and the position you were in, straddling his lap with both shoulders shoved back to force your breasts front and center. He saw the look in your eyes and leaned forward, lips brushing the shell of your ear. 
“I can get rough sometimes, baby.” he said, voice low and husky. “Tell me it’s too much at any point and I’ll stop, okay?” You nodded, a shy little mm-hm escaping your bitten lips. Eddie crossed your wrists over each other, holding them behind your back with one hand as his newly free one reached up to caress your cheek. 
“Fucking Christ, you’re cute.” he mumbled. “Cute little baby, all alone in her parents’ big house all day, so bored she had to go and be a slut for the neighbor. That right, baby?”
Your eyes were wide and wet, mouth opened in a slight pout as you ground your freed hips on his hard cock once again, whimpering needily. You nodded your head up and down, eager to hear more filthy words tumble from his lips. 
Eddie wasn’t satisfied with that. A hand came up to grasp your hair at the base of your neck, tugging on it firmly but not painfully to force your head to nod up and down emphatically. “Use your words, baby, say ‘yes, daddy, I was a slut.’”
You gasped, surprised. You’d never called anyone daddy besides your actual father, and you’d certainly never called anyone that in the bedroom- or a hot tub, for that matter. However, his brazen demand that you call him that while you straddled him like this sent rolling waves of pleasure straight to the apex of your thighs. 
“Y-yes… daddy…” You struggled against your instinct to be embarrassed, arching your back against your restrained hands and looking down shyly at your cleavage. “...I was a slut.”
“Look at me.”
Your eyes flicked up to his, wide and obedient. He was smiling at you, beaming with pride and adoration. His hand slid from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling your face to his. “Good girl, baby.” he praised, “I’m gonna kiss you, is that okay?”
You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”
That earned you a chuckle. “So polite, baby girl, good job.” 
Eddie’s lips felt like the most comforting thing that a person could feel on their skin. His kiss felt like fresh sheets still warm from the dryer. His tongue was like a strawberry that was perfectly ripe, sweet and wet and a rush of relief. He explored you, he learned you, his lips devoured all they could reach and whenever they couldn’t reach, his tongue took over to fill in the blanks. 
As you whimpered and squirmed in his lap, Eddie cooed, “What’s the matter, baby, something wrong with your legs?”
You shook your head, moaning into his mouth. “I need something on my clit, Eddie.”
“Something? You’ll just take anything on that clit baby? Is that what you're saying?”
You panted, straining against his rock hard dick for some kind of friction. He was right, you would take anything. “Yes, please touch me, Eddie.”
He made no move to do so, only looking at you pointedly with his eyebrows raised. When you realized your mistake, you corrected, “Please touch me, daddy.”
He smiled smugly, a cat watching a mouse. “Good girl,” he praised, “but I’m not sure you’ve earned that.” 
Your face fell, eyes going wide as your lips formed a full-on pout. “But-” you began to stutter, but Eddie wasn’t finished. 
He let go of you, pushing you gently off you and guiding you under the water to one of the seats in the corner of the tub. The jets coming off it were strong, nearly too much on your back as you turned to sit, but Eddie stopped you before you could settle into the seat. 
“Princess, I want you to keep your knees open and ride your pussy on that jet stream until you cum.” 
Your jaw dropped open. Whipping your chin over your shoulder to look at him in his seat opposite you, you stared and waited for him to specify or maybe apologize for misspeaking- there’s no way you heard him right. But then he repeated himself, and you realized that yes, you had. 
“Press your pussy up against that jet stream under the water, and make yourself cum. Don’t use your hands. Don’t rush. I want you to fall apart in my hot tub, and I’m going to stroke my dick while I watch you do it. That okay, sweetheart?”
You were learning a lot of new information about your neighbor today. 
You smiled devilishly over your shoulder at him, taking in the sight of him lounging in the opposite corner of the tub as he took in the sight of you. “You’re a kinky motherfucker, aren’t you?” 
Eddie reached across the tub and wound an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick but heated kiss. “Yeah, I am.” he murmured into your lips before pushing you back toward the jets. “Now make yourself cum, I want you tight.”
He laughed at the pathetic little whimper that you let slip involuntarily as you situated yourself against the jet stream. You balanced your weight on your knees, spreading your legs enough to open your pussy further inside your swimsuit. Once the pulsing stream of water made contact with your clit, your automatic impulse was to flinch away; the stream was strong, almost too strong. However, with a little shifting and repositioning, you eventually found an angle that pulled a moan from your mouth that sounded almost pornographic.
“That’s it, baby girl,” you heard Eddie’s rough voice behind you, and you couldn’t help but sneak a peak over your shoulder at him. Eddie sat with legs spread open and one arm slung over the lip of the tub, his other hand palming the erection you knew was only growing harder over his swim trunks. This told you he was a patient man, a man who liked to be teased a little before taking what he wanted. A man who liked to play with his food before he ate it. 
You could play, too.
You pulled your eyebrows together, pouting your lips the way you’d seen him react to earlier. “Am I doing it right for you, daddy?” You moved your hips up and down against the jet, putting on a little show for him.
Eddie raised a brow, amused. “I don’t think I can answer that question for you, sweetheart.” he said, sighing heavily with pleasure as he tilted his head this way and that to take you in from every angle. “Don’t worry about me, baby, just make yourself feel good.” 
You smiled shyly, nodding in response and turning your attention back to the jets. You maneuvered your hips against them, grinding on the strong jetstream as it hit your clit at angles that you didn’t even know existed. You lost yourself in the sensation, letting your eyes fall closed and humming little sounds to yourself as your heart rate picked up, that familiar pleasure bubbling up in your lower belly  as your movements grew faster and more desperate. 
Eager to see if Eddie was enjoying himself as much as you were, you glanced over your shoulder to look at him. What you saw was breathtaking- Eddie, his wet curls clinging to his dewy skin, muscles flexing under his tattoos as he fisted his cock underwater. You couldn’t see it clearly due to the raging bubbles, but the flesh-colored underwater blur was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. You had known he would jack off to you- he’d outright told you he planned to- but seeing it was enough to turn you on so much that it became the thing that pushed you over the edge.
“Daddy, I’m cumming!” 
You moaned, mouth hanging open as you rode out your orgasm against the harsh stream of the jets, overwhelmed and overstimulated by the physical feeling and the intense eye contact that you held with Eddie the entire time as your body gyrated and spasmed. He watched you with hungry eyes, lapping up the scene in its entirety and committing every second to memory. 
“Good girl, good fucking girl, keep fucking that jet, baby.”
You whimpered, hips jerking away from the stream as it hit your clit at an angle that was a little too intense, and your limp, still-needy body floated over to Eddie. He chuckled, still stroking his cock lightly in the warm water. “Aw, I’m sorry baby, was that too much?”
You shook your head, still eager for him- he’d barely even touched you, and yet you were so desperate for this man. “No, I can take more.”
His eyes had a darkness to them that made your breath hitch. “How much can you take, sweetheart?” 
You moved to straddle your knees on either side of one of his thighs, not close enough to grind against his cock, but certainly in a perfect position to rub your pussy along his leg, teasing him. “I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, daddy.”
A low groan sounded from deep in Eddie’s chest. “You might regret saying that one, babe.”
You couldn’t resist matching his warning with a challenge. “Bring it on.” you said sweetly, and it incited a little chuckle in him. He reached back and pressed a button on the hot tub, causing all of the bubbles to stop. 
“Get out, dry off.” he said, nodding to the neatly folded towels he’d placed beside the hot tub. “You look like you could use a shower.”
You stayed put, confused. “You… but…”
He cut you off, cupping his wet hands against your face. You could feel the pads of his fingers on your cheeks, wrinkled from prolonged time under the water’s surface. “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot you don’t like following instructions unless you know you’re getting something out of it.” You scoffed at his condescending tone, but all he did was smile. “What I meant to say was- get out. Dry off. I’m going to fuck you in my shower. Mmkay?”
Your eyes widened, excited by his words and elated by a strange submissive, post-orgasmic euphoria. “Okay.” you replied, but when you saw his testy look in response you quickly amended, “Okay daddy.”
“Good girl.”
The two of you dried off before heading back upstairs. Eddie let you down the hall to his bedroom, which you were sure was filled with so many interesting mementos on the walls that you were sure it would take you hours to study all of it. The first thing to catch your eye was the golden record, framed and mounted beside his dresser. When Eddie saw you looking at it, he supplied an answer without waiting for you to ask. 
“Ever heard of a band called Corroded Coffin?”
You searched your brain but came up empty. “No, I don’t think I have.”
Eddie chuckled to himself, like you’d just participated in a joke you weren’t in on. “Most people haven’t. But I bet you’ve heard the song Upside Down on the radio, yeah?” He hummed a couple bars of the chorus, which you recognized instantly. 
“Oh yeah! I love that song!”
Eddie grinned. “‘Preciate it, babe.”
Shocked, you glanced up at the record and back to him. “Wait, you wrote that song?”
He shrugged as if to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “It was a group effort, my band and I wrote and recorded it together. After that, though, when the offers for record deals and tours and shit started pouring in, it became clear to most of the band members that this wasn’t what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives- band broke up on good terms, we just had some differences when it came to future plans.” He reached up and stroked the frame affectionately with his thumb. “But one-hit-wonder money was still enough to get my name out there, make some smart investments. I’m a music producer now.”
So that’s how he made all this money. The big empty house made sense now. “That’s pretty cool, actually.” you said, smiling at Eddie. You relished the sensation of his hands as they slid around your waist. 
“You wanna see something even cooler?” 
Before you could answer, Eddie was scooping you up into his arms and tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed, laughing as his palm hit your ass cheek with a loud smack! He carried you into his bathroom, placing you on his vanity counter before kissing the laughing smile right off your face. You felt his hands as they worked your bathing suit off you, freeing your breasts from the confines of the damp fabric. Eddie wasted no time, pulling one of your tits into his hand and encircling your nipple with his mouth, sucking sensually. You moaned, hands fisting into his hair. He only left your skin to turn around and turn on the shower, giving the water a chance to heat up. 
Once the bathroom had sufficiently filled with steam, Eddie picked you up from the counter, pulling your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You kissed him greedily, wetly, and hungrily as he walked the two of you into his spacious tiled shower, which was larger than your dorm room closet back at school. 
You relaxed your legs around him in a silent ask for Eddie to put you down, which he obliged. The moment your feet hit the wet tiled floor, you began to sink to your knees until…
You snorted. 
“Why do you still have your swim trunks on?” 
Eddie had taken the time to take off your bathing suit, but you hadn’t even realized that even after carrying you into the shower, he hadn’t even taken a second to undress himself. 
He looked down, noticing this for the first time, same as you. “I, uh… I don’t know. I was-” he flashed you a smirk that was equal parts embarrassed and sexy. “-preoccupied, I guess.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you knelt before him, now eye-level with the drawstring of his swim trunks. “Well let me fix that, then.” you said softly, working your delicate fingers into the waistband and pulling his trunks down until they hit the floor. 
God. He was a sight to behold. And you were right, he did have thigh tattoos. They were large, twisting images of hellish creatures, undoubtedly older but still in good shape since- judging by the paleness of the skin they decorated- they probably never saw the light of day. 
You reached up, lightly tracing them as you turned your gaze to his cock. It was at full mast, eager and waiting for your mouth to encircle it and, hopefully, make Eddie moan your name. 
Which he did. 
The way your lips covered the head of his cock, the way your tongue generously licked the shaft under, over, around, the way your hands were warm and welcoming as they lightly played with his balls- all of it made him moan, gasp, groan your name. He called you baby, called you princess, moaned and pulled your hair as he fucked your mouth, and you just about burst into flames when he shoved his cock so far down your throat that you swallowed on it accidentally, pulling a growled “Goddamnit, sweetheart, fuck-” from his lips. 
When he pulled you off his dick by your hair, his eyes were humorless and hungry. He crouched down, leveling your eyes under the hot water from the showerhead. 
“Are you on birth control, sweet girl?” he asked. 
You nodded, “I have an IUD.”
He kissed your forehead firmly, one hand still fisted in your hair. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now I can grab a condom, they’re right over there in the cabinet under my sink.” he continued, nodding vaguely in the sink’s direction. “But baby, I have been fantasizing about the way your pussy’s gonna feel for a long ass time and I hate to ask you this, and you’re allowed to say no, but-”
“Fuck me raw Eddie.” You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. “I fantasize about it too. I think about it every day, I touch myself to you before going to sleep and wake up wishing your cock was the thing waking me up. When I’m lying by the pool reading those stupid smutty novels and some lord is fucking a lady in waiting up against a wall, I can’t focus on it! I can’t because I want it to be you and I want to feel your cock inside me, and I want it to be your cum that drips down my thighs and your lips on my-”
He cut you off there, splaying his free hand on your neck and kissing you until you were laid horizontally on the hot, wet floor. He climbed on top of you, and in a moment your mouth fell open at the sensation of his hard cock splitting you open from the inside. He didn’t spend a moment waiting for you to adjust to his size or murmuring praises into your ear- he knew you wanted all of him, and you knew he wanted all of you, and that was all you needed. You moaned, you practically screamed, and above all you clutched him for dear life.
“Dirty girl,” Eddie growled into your ear, thrusting into you deep and hard. “Dirty books, dirty mind-” 
He leaned back so that his face was directly above yours and grabbed your cheeks, squeezing to force your mouth open. Your lips parted, and Eddie spat harshly into your mouth before shoving your mouth closed around it. His eyes were feral, wild with lust and dominance. “Swallow.” he commanded, you obeyed in an instant. He felt your throat moving against his hand and smiled deviously. “Dirty mouth, too.”
He picked up his pace, spearing into you at a pace so relentless that you couldn’t even keep track of the noises coming out of your mouth- an incoherent stream of sounds and swear that would have made a sailor blush. He matched your dirty noises with his own, all the while dicking you down into his shower floor as your brain went haywire at the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin that echoed through the bathroom. 
“God, this pussy is so fucking tight,” Eddie groaned, “good girl, cumming so hard for daddy back there. You gonna cum on my cock this time?”
You moaned, “Need something on my clit, daddy.” 
Eddie pecked your lips with his own, and the way it made your heart skip a beat was like a reward. “Good girl, always tell me what you need, okay?”
You nodded, smiling giddily from the sudden subby euphoria. “Okay, daddy.” You made a mental note that kissing Eddie Munson while his cock was inside you gave you your new favorite kind of high.
Eddie reached down and began drawing small, soft circles with his fingertip on your clit. The richly gentle sensation was decadent, pulling deeper, louder moans from you as Eddie continued to fuck you. “Oh I feel you getting tighter, baby girl, that feel good?”
“Yes!” you practically yelled it. 
“Yes what?” He taunted.
“Yes daddy!” you cried, arching your back against the tile. He was fucking you ruthlessly, ravaging you mentally, and the way his dirty words melted into you made your brain go so hazy that you weren’t sure if your vision was clouding or if it was just the steam in the air. 
Your release was growing closer, that heat in your core coiling tighter and tighter, ready to burst with pleasure. “I’m gonna cum soon, daddy.” you whined. 
Eddie’s dick hit you in that perfect spot inside over and over, and you leaned your face against his hand as he cupped your cheek affectionately. “Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over daddy’s dick?” You pouted, nodding ‘yes’ in response. Eddie smiled at the way you could be so cute and so filthy at the same time- he fucking loved it. “That’s probably gonna make me cum, sweetheart, you want that? That pussy’s gonna grip my cock so tight that it fills you with cum, huh?”
You were whimpering and pouting and letting the sluttiest little sobs fall from you now. “Yes, daddy, fill me with cum, please!”
“You want me to fill you with cum? Fuck all that cum inside you?”
“Yes!”
“Yes what, sweetheart, gotta tell me whose dick you’re cumming on-”
“Daddy!” you cried, “Daddy’s dick, I’m cumming on daddy’s dick!”
“Fuuuck, yes, cum on daddy’s dick you little slut-”
Eddie’s filthy words tumbled from his lips as your pussy pulsed around him, fluttering walls squeezing him tight from the aching pleasure that shot through you. His cum filled you, and the size of his load reflected just how long it had been since he’d cum into anything that wasn’t his own hand. When he finally pulled out, a stream of both your releases oozed out of your hole and onto the floor. Eddie stared at it, fascinated, and he silently used his finger to catch the milky liquid and push it back into your hole. You whimpered, overly sensitive and puffy, your pussy lips inflamed and screaming, but Eddie was gentle as he sheathed his finger completely inside you, ensuring that his seed stayed exactly where he’d put it in the first place.
He pulled you up to a sitting position, smiling gently. “Hi.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your temple. 
“Hi.” you giggled, a giant smile stretching out across your face, blissed-out and more than satisfied. 
Eddie stroked your wet hair out of your face, gazing down at you adoringly. “I’m sorry if that was a little… much,” he winced. “I may have gotten carried away, usually I would talk to you to see if that kind of stuff would be okay, but I was just so fired up-”
“Eddie,” you interrupted softly. “I loved it.”
He grinned, grateful and relieved. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” 
Eddie pulled you against him, your body fitting itself nicely against his naked chest as water poured over the two of you from above while you sat holding each other on the floor of his shower. He sighed, completely and utterly content. “Yeah.”
***
The rest of the summer days in your parents’ neighborhood went like this: 
Wake up imagining what you and Eddie would do today. Touch yourself when necessary.
Do whatever chores needed doing around the house, sometimes making batches of lemonade for Eddie when you knew he would be working on his lawn that day. 
Lounge by your pool and read a book- this part hadn’t changed. 
Spend the rest of the afternoon at Eddie’s. These afternoons usually consisted of activities like discussing the whatever book you were reading, drinking whatever strange new beer Dustin had come up with, and fucking each other’s brains out. 
The next month, Eddie celebrated his birthday. He didn’t throw a rager (true to his word) but he did have a little get-together. To your surprise, he invited you. 
You got to meet his friends, their kids, their dogs- and see the way Eddie smiled for hours without reprieve when they were around. This whole summer, you’d been figuring this man out bit by bit, but it wasn’t until that night that you truly felt like you knew him. 
You baked him a cake, as promised. Three layers of funfetti sponge, vanilla frosting and decorated with oreo crumbs and rainbow letters that spelled out “Happy birthday, Eddie, forever young”.
He wasn’t this way with the rest of the neighbors. To them, he would always be Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, but with these people? With his friends? He was Eddie Munson. Now, you were included in that group of people who were allowed to know him, and how wonderful he really was. 
You felt so incredibly lucky that you were a part of that.
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gay-dorito-dust · 27 days
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Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his gn s/o telling him that they can't sleep in the same bed as him because they will cling onto him like a koala bear in their sleep?
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Sunday: ‘all the more reason for me to keep you close.’ He says smiling as he pulls you into bed with him.
And he wasn’t joking when he says this because then he’ll know that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon without his knowledge, seeing as how all he had to do was open his eyes and you’d be there, clinging onto him very much like you said you would.
He’ll also use it as an excuse to watch over you as you slept, something he doesn’t find weird or creepy as he expects lovers to watch one another in their most vulnerable states.
It’s for your own protection he swears but then why did it feel controlling?
(You never speak up about this out of a deep guttural feeling that you should wait to see how this all plays out, he couldn’t keep this character up forever. You love him but…something didn’t feel quite right but you were more than willing to play ignorant for the time being.)
Sunday finds this information to be adorable and utterly sweet.
However in private he wonders to himself, more specifically about who could’ve possibly told you that clinging onto your loved one during the night was anything other than prof of your love but just in a different form, and ways he could go about proving them wrong in a thousand different ways.
Until then he’ll indulge you in anything and everything to prove that there was no one out there that could compare to him as a lover.
Welt: ‘there’s no need to feel embarrassed, if anything I’d be more than honoured.’
Welt loves the honesty and trust you have to confine such information about yourself to him in confidence.
It’s a reminder of the strong foundations of your relationship, however he couldn’t help but find it cute that you’d ever think he’d be annoyed at the prospect of being cuddled at night.
If anything it makes him love you all the more if that was even possible.
He won’t pressure you into sharing a bed with him but he’d be more than happy if you felt comfortable enough in doing so.
He’s not a dick, he’s a gentleman.
He’s also extremely reassuring about it too and will tell you that he doesn’t mind you clinging onto him at all. If anything he’d probably encourage you to cling onto him in your sleep if that’s what helps you sleep easier.
Welt is more than willing to accommodate for you no matter what, just say the word and Welt will give you his unwavering support.
Gallagher: ‘don’t temp me with a good time sweetheart.’ He’d tease whilst pulling you in close until you were nose to nose and chest to chest.
News just in; big intimidating wolverine man likes cuddles. He’s a secret cuddle bug, though it ain’t a secret to you, obviously.
He just loves the feeling of you close by, knowing that you were just within arms reach of him were reason enough to have him sleeping with a content smile upon his face.
He’s just finding more and more reasons to squeeze you into oblivion because you’re just so fucking adorable and precious in his eyes.
He will want to prove you wrong in not sharing a bed with him by making you share the bed with him all the time. So you might as well get use to it because you’re not leaving anytime soon with his strong of a hold he has on you.
If anything Gallagher is worse when it comes to clinging on to you in his sleep. Firstly he won’t let go and if he feels the slightest bit of pull, he’s already shifting his body weight further on to you, trapping you beneath him and making it neigh impossible to move even a muscle.
Blade: ‘as if you weren’t already clinging onto me like a koala.’ He’d say sarcastically as you’d pout and smack his arm before moving away from him to convey how ‘hurt’ you were to him.
‘That was a compliment you worm.’ - Blade.
‘Well it didn’t feel like one.’ - you, huffing as your lips went into a full blown pout.
Your efforts in making him apologise fails as within one swift movement, you were caged in his arms as you could feel him breathing down your neck.
‘Look who’s the clingy one now.’ You’d try to tease, only to hear him chuckle. ‘No. Still you.’ He’d reply and you couldn’t help but cuddle further into him, uncaring of the fact that you were still very much proving him right.
Blade may act like he hates you clinging onto him but yet he couldn’t help but melt into your embrace and find the much needed sleep he’s been missing out on for so long.
A sense of momentary peace washes over him whenever you touched in, whether that be a graze or otherwise, his mind seems to clear with you; sure he’ll tease you but if he genuinely didn’t like it he would’ve told you straight up, after all Blade’s not the type to mince his words.
He’d much rather have you cling onto him for the rest of your lives than never be unapologetically clingy at all. He never admits it but he loves it when you cling to him in your sleep, you made him feel like he was with more than he ever gives himself credit for.
Dan Heng: Not gonna lie, he’d be in absolute heaven if you were to cling to him in your sleep, but his face would be like this the entire time: 😐
He’s trying his hardest not to let his true feeling show but he somehow fails whenever you shift in a way he doesn’t like and without thinking, pulls you back into his arms and keeps you caged against his chest.
You’re most certainly not complaining but then again you never expected Dan Heng to be the affectionate type when sleeping.
Dan Heng on the other hand took this opportunity to hide away his face into your head/neck area, but it’s not out of embarrassment, but more so because his dragon noodle self wants to leech off of your warmth and engraving your scent into his very being.
‘Are you purring?’ - you in the middle of the night.
‘No. Maybe…*sigh* yes.’ - Dan Heng probably.
He acts like this wasn’t something he’s been wishing for ages, when in actuality it was probably the first thing he’s dreamt of when he first discovered that he had a crush on you.
Something that he has yet to admit to you to this day but never will because it’s a hill he’s all too willing to die on.
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minhosimthings · 1 month
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Sample Session || 18+
Synopsis: In which you ask your boyfriend for a semen sample
Pairings: Sunghoon × fem!reader, non idol au
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v sex, rough sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex (not for you at all) masturbation (male), spit as lubricant, praise, degradation, swearing, rough dom Sunghoon, sub!reader, reader wears pink lingerie, boob fixation, dirty talk eyyy, collecting semen in that tube because we medical students, mentions of Yunjin from Le Sserafim and Gaeul from IVE
A/N: this is my submission for @deluluriddhi's 500+ followers event which you can find here! Had a shit ton of fun writing this though so here you go babies!
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Being a doctor has its advantages.
You get to help people, you get a shit ton of money (student debt sucks but hey), you get a hot boyfriend, you can correctly pronounce and know the meaning of choledocholithiasis.
Did I mention hot boyfriend?
Park Sunghoon. Possibly the hottest and the only surgeon-in-training you'd ever want to have inside of you all day long.
Of course the walls still speak of the times he railed you in the room where they kept the crp training dolls, but we don't speak about that anymore.
But one of the greatest advantages of having a Park Sunghoon, as you soon found out, was that he proved useful in a quest.
For a particularly awkward thing.
"Sperm samples?" Yunjin gasped, almost spilling her coffee on you, "we have to collect sperm samples?"
"For the last time, yes." Gaeul groaned, massaging her temples, Yunjin had been asking the same thing since the past hour.
"How on earth are we going to get semen samples?" Yunjin asked, turning to you for some reason.
"Alright ladies, time to seduce some men." Gaeul laughed, sipping her frappuccino.
"Y/N already seduced one." Yunjin groaned, deflating her body onto the table, "Hey, get some for us too will you?"
"Number 1, we need to have different samples, and number two how the hell am I gonna ask him?" You quizzed the girls, who looked dumbfounded.
"Maybe..you know." Yunjin began, and you realised she had the same face on as she did whenever she saw the extremely phallic design of the law building at your college, "Just do the oogey-boogey with him."
Gaeul's frappucino can spit out her nose, as she cackled loudly, garnering the attention of many people in the cafe.
"The oogey-boogey YUNJIN WHAT?" Gauel kept laughing, holding her stomach tightly, "Is that your way of saying that Y/N needs to seduce Sunghoon into somehow giving her his semen?" She said, when her laughter died down.
"Absolutely not!" You protested. The idea of seducing your boyfriend was...nice to think of but to actually have a practical session? You would have rather jumped off a cliff.
"Just ask him today, we have a holiday tomorrow, so incase the oogey-boogey indeed does oogey-boogey you have semen! Simple."
Gaeul's frappucino was subjected to being ejected out of her nose again, as she rolled over in fits of laughter.
This wasn't you.
This definetly wasn't you, Sunghoon thought.
His mind was racing at a hundred kilometres per the second, and his bag full of pastries for you was abandoned on the floor as soon as he saw what lay in front of him.
A reward for his hard work today? The thought of what he had done to deserve you was running a lap through his brain. You, in your pretty pink lace, with white trimmings, and pearls on your neck, the ones he bought you of course.
"Well hello there, gorgeous." He said, grabbing your waist in his arms, as he always did when he got back home. But this time, with a different purpose.
"All dressed up for me today?" He quizzed you, placing a kiss at the nape of your neck. It was pathetic how much the simple action made your hole so wet.
Sunghoon toyed with the pretty pink lace of your bra, kissing up and down your collarbone. God had you changed your perfume? It seemed so intoxicating to him. Your hands came to rest on his shoulder, as you nibbled the tip of his ear a bit, which made his dick throb inside his pants.
"Come on." He mumbled through his kisses, lifting you into his arms, making you wrap your legs around his waist, which you did promptly.
The one thing that Sunghoon would have never expected was the various medical equipment that lay on your bed.
"Y/N." He glanced at you suspiciously, putting you down on your feet, "what's all this?"
You awkwardly cleared your throat and rushed over to the bed, picking up a tiny test tube and shoving it in your boyfriend's hands.
"Alright so I have an assignment and I need your help." You said, a bit more seriously than you had wanted to.
"Do you need me to get you pregnant or something?" Sunghoon chuckled, his eyes darkening, "Cause I won't say no."
"Actually it's not that."
"Then what is it, princess?"
"Canihaveyoursemensampleplease." You mumbled, or more properly, to say, rapped.
"Y/N, proper sentences please?"
Sighing heavily to yourself, you gulped and wrapped your arms around Sunghoon again, pressing a chaste, sweet kiss to his pink lips.
"I need a semen sample for an assignment." You mumbled into his ear, albeit a but louder this time. Sunghoon smirked into your neck.
"That's it?" He asked, a cocky smile spreading on his face. His baby, needs a sample from him? He thought it was the most adorable thing ever.
"Yeah...it's fine if you say no though!" You panicked, looking at him with widened eyes. But Sunghoon only chuckled again and raised your chin to his level with his finger.
"How could I say no when you're asking so nicely?" He said, guiding you over to the bed. Kicking off his shoes, Sunghoon settled in nicely between the sheets, while you awkwardly sat at the edge, handing the tube to him.
"Don't want to join me baby?" Sunghoon asked, taking off his belt and his trousers, and pulling you in for a sudden kiss, by grabbing your face with his hands.
"You're a medical student too Hoon, you know I can't." You rolled your eyes at him.
"Alright, but do me a favour. Hold the tube in place for me will you?" He handed the tube back to you, and you bit your lip. Holding it in place. In other words, bending over to make Hoon see your cleavage.
"If that's what'll get you off, then fine." You grumbled, although your panties were getting wetter by the second at the idea.
Sunghoon leaned against the bedframe, relaxing into the sheets, holding his throbbing cock with one hand. He began to jerk off hard, his hand rising to the tip of the cock, where more fat drops of precum accumulate, feeling the alcohol of your perfume take over the body,
"that what you want, princess?” he spits on his cock and starts jerking off again while he speaks his hand doesn't stop, slow movements, up and down as if he wanted to feel the familiar sensation of your walls clenched around him. He could feel a knot forming in his stomach, at the sight of seeing your tits, lined perfectly in your lingerie. The sight of it made him go mental.
His hand never abandons his cock, squeezing, going up and down without losing rhythm. Sunghoon began to feel signs of orgasm so he reduced the speed of his hand, waiting for what will come next.
Sunghoon thinks while squeezing his cock tightly, holding by the base his fingers massage the balls, he climbs his hand slowly and passes his thumb over the head of the cock dripping precum, spreading and with his eyes glazed, little moans escaping his lips. Sunghoon sits more centered on the bed, drops of sweat run down his hair, dripping and turning a trail around his neck, chest and belly, his body is so sensitive to touch that the drops of water seem to scratch while the sheets seem to hug him.
"Fuck—im close." He whimpered, eyes rolling back as the knot in his stomach broke and the next moment, his hand was drenched in cum, and you were holding a test tube filled with what you needed.
"Shit" Sunghoon fell back on the bed, while you happily inserted the semen into your carrier so that it stayed safe. You crawled promptly into the bed with him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Thank you so much Hoonie, I had no idea how I was going to get the-"
"What about my payment princess?" Sunghoon's whispered growl in your ear left you crumbling.
His touch left your skin burning in desire for more and before you could even catch a breath his hands grabbed your legs and you find yourself wrapped around his waist. Your hair was soft between his fingers and as he gently pulled it, you let out a little groan. 
"Hoonie–" you whimpered, feeling a blush creep up to your cheeks.
He loved seeing you like that, confused, embarrassed, submissive, and highly aroused. Holding your gaze for another moment, he rubbed his hand over your wet folds, gathering your slick on his palm. When he finally bent a finger and slipped it between your lower lips, he watched you closely, and as a soft squelching sound rang in his ears, he saw you writhing in discomfort, frowning slightly, but it made him smile at you, and your embarrassment was quickly forgotten.
Holding your waist firmly, Sunghoon flipped you over onto the bed with a rough thump, making you moan at the very sensation of his biceps touching your body.
"So wet for me already?" Sunghoon chuckled, removing your panties slowly, "You're so adorable."
"Shut up." You groaned, feeling embarrased again, "Hoonie, we ran out of condoms, maybe we should-"
"You're on birth control right?" Sunghoon pressed a kiss to your neck, making you mewl when his tip slightly touched your pussy, "You're not leaving this bed until the sheets are either drenched or until you've fainted."
His voice was rough as he lined himself up with your entrance as you panted in anticipation, fingers digging into his back when he finally entered you, moaning deeply at the feeling of your walls starting to clench around him.
The stretch when he enters you burns gloriously, your mouth falling open in a perfect, round ‘O’ of ecstasy. Sunghoon fills you slowly, burying himself to the hilt, so deep that you can practically feel him rearranging your insides.
“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” he praises.
Discomposed, his voice thickens, rounding the vowels and blurring the ends of his words. Sunghoon rocks his hips one shallow thrust striking a spot inside you that has your vision whiting out, ecstasy buzzing in your heavy limbs.
“That felt good, huh? Yeah. I know, I know,” he soothes, swallowing your whines with wet, deliberate kisses, tongue sweeping every corner of your mouth and teeth grazing your lips.
Your noises grew louder, as did the wet squelching sounds as your pussy fluttered around him, muscles clenching, a burning warmth gathering inside you. You sank your nails into the old wood, holding on for dear life as his pelvis smacked against your cushioned ass in quick succession.
 “Can’t you handle it, baby?” Sunghoon looked at you with pity, "Is it too much for your pathetic pussy?"
“I can-fuck, I can—handle it.” you whimpered. You clearly, could not handle it.
His own grunts filled your ears, adding to the tension building up in your belly, those deep vibrations pushing you right over the edge.
"Hoon-I—ah FUCK!"
You cried out when your walls clamped around him, that tight coil within exploding into a thousand tiny lights that made your entire body convulse against him. He felt your orgasmic contractions, and despite the soreness in his leg, he kept fucking you through your release, your juices helping in easing your tight passage, but he still strained to keep his rhythm. His fingers dug into your soft skin, and he felt a bead of sweat running along his temple.
That unlocked something inside of him. While he still held you, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he could reach, he slammed into you, forcing your small body to jerk in his arms with each thrust. He grunted and moaned, nearly panting, as he crammed himself inside of you.
It doesn’t take long for your next orgasm to build up, releasing it with a silent cry as you unintentionally dig your fingers into Sunghoon's back causing him to groan in your ear in pleasure. He keeps his thrusts consistent as you begin to leak around his cock and onto the blanket beneath you. There’s no doubt you’ll have to change the bedding later. 
All you could do was bury your head in his chest until with one more thrust, he pushed into you, unloading pump after pump of cum. Afterwards, he slumped down, slowly dragging his cock out of your stuffed cunt, leaving you empty and internally screaming at the intoxication of the burn.
"Shit-" Sunghoon plopped down on the bed, next to you. Both of your chests rose and fell in unison, as you managed to steeply catch your breath.
A moment of calm silence arose before-
"Does your professor need any more sampler or...?" Sunghoon asked, eliciting a laugh out of you.
"Nope, just the one." You chuckled at his unseriousness as he pulled you in for cuddles.
"You're changing the sheets this time Hoon."
"Damn it."
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Bonus
"So you did the oogey-boogey with him?"
"Yunjin!"
2K notes · View notes
willows-peak · 4 months
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*・゚✧ JJK Character's Fav Positions
tags: multi character x reader, gn! reader, fluff, acute descriptions of cuddling, sfw and nsfw below the cut, the students aren't included in the nsfw portion dw
word count: expected 2.2k
a/n: im struggling with a geto wip so have this for tonight :3c i wonder if u can tell whos my fav to write
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⋆。˚ ♡ spooning: reserved for the clingiest of people, those who wanna feel your warmth no matter what, snuggled tight holding your back to their chest under a blanket and falling asleep to the slow breaths you make in your slumber
nobara: she's a girl with a very busy life, socially and academically, so when she finally gets to come home and relax into you, her back being embraced by you and held snugly to your chest as she sighs in content, she's as happy as can be. especially after a nice warm shower to wash the day's work away, curling up in bed in her jammies and taking a well deserved nap is all she needs. she gets very irritable if (god forbid) she cant be with you for a while
yuuta: he's a very sweet boy, even when sleeping. if u two end up cuddling, you'll somehow always end up being spooned, no matter how you two fell asleep. yuuta claims he has no idea how this happens, but youre starting to doubt him when you fell asleep at the foot of the bed and woke up with a snoring yuuta behind you. though, you dont have it in you to push him away, considering the way he grumbles and reaches out for you until youre back in his arms
getou: while he wasn't the one to initiate being the little spoon, that seems to be the role you gave him when you first started sleeping in the same bed. even while he was relaxed, his back muscles seemed to entrance you enough to want to stare at them while he slept. he wasn't surprised or offended at your reasoning of course, quite the opposite. you were fueling his already huge ego so how could he deny you? now, he'll rest with the feeling of your deft fingers combing through his hair, while your other hand was running across the bumps and crevices of his back.
⋆。˚ ♡ hugging: for the cuddling enjoyer who also wants to smoosh your face with their chest. legs tangled together, the comforting scent of your shampoo in their nose and their hand gently cupping the back of your head
gojo: speaking of the clingiest man alive. he treats you like a stuffie half the time while you two sleep, hugging you tight to his chest and having your face buried in the crook of his neck while he snoozes away. much like yuuji, the pressure of you against his body helps relax him, but unfortunately for you, that means this 6'3 man squeezing you as tight as possible and stacking on blankets on top of your combined bodies. let's hope you two live somewhere cold
inumaki: he always slept in fetal position before you two started dating, so this was just naturally how you two began cuddling. inumaki either slept at 8 pm sharp or he'd still be awake when you got up in the morning, so who was cuddling who was never consistent. sometimes, inumaki slept with his arm thrown across your hip and his face squished against your side, and others he'd hook his arm around the small of your back and hold you while you slept
⋆。˚ ♡ head on lap: sometimes you don't wanna go all out with cuddling your partner, and for those occasions look no further than the thigh pillow ™ for when you or your partner are too tired to move from the couch to the bed
maki: few words are ever spoken when you two do this. you could be catching up on your schoolwork, or talking with maki, or watching the tv, but often times you'll simply stop and roll over to lay on her lap, neither of you questioning or even batting an eye to it anymore. even when you first did it, there was only a moment of confusion in maki's face before she shrugged and continued talking to you
choso: when you asked him how he liked to cuddle one day, he shrugged his shoulders and answered with "whatever makes you happy." and while he meant it, you couldnt deny the pattern you noticed when you were lounging in bed, or sitting down, where choso would inevitably end up cozied between your thighs, his head resting on your tummy with his hand around your back. pro tip, he makes happy hums if you put your hand on his head
⋆。˚ ♡ head on chest: who needs blankets when you have a whole other person? the classic and well loved position that lets them hold u as close as they can, arm snagging around your waist and holding you tight as you drift into dream land
megumi: you may have thought this meant youre laying on his chest. nope. it took a while for him to open up with what he wanted with you, physically, but it very quickly turned into routine how he'd wordlessly crawl into your arms and flop down against your chest, grumbling incoherently when you asked him what was the matter. you'd sigh and resume whatever you were doing, combing through his messy hair until the soft sound of snores filled the room minutes later.
nanami: this man does not play around about two things, children and his sleep. he's very particular with how he rests, as in you *will* be with him while he sleeps, and you *will* be placed on his chest, held tight as he snored away. youre his wonderful break from monotony, a shining ray of sunshine in his cold and unwelcoming world, so forgive him for being clingy while he rests. though, this does come with the downside of him becoming restless if you're ever away. dont worry! he has a pillow with your scent sprayed onto it for this very occasion, just in case
toji: he wasnt huge on cuddling at first, both not used to it and finding it inconvenient to deal with if he needed to do anything at night. he didnt sleep well before you, and even if that hasnt changed, you snuggling up to him like a huge teddy bear at least gave him something to focus on in those sleepless fits he often has. on the rare occasion he sleeps before you awaken, youre extra careful to press a kiss to his chest as he silently rested underneath you
⋆。˚ ♡ in their lap: cuddling doesn't always have to mean sleeping, of course. sometimes its just a really really long hug with your partner. for times like this, curling up in someone's lap while you laze your time away sounds like a paradise
yuuji: at first, scooting you into his lap was just an easy way to keep you close while he had nothing else to do, arm secured around your waist while you either scrolled through your phone or talked to him about your day, the mundane things he loved about you. but, as he soon found, you on his lap added the extra bonus of pressure! a sturdy weight and warmth on his body, allowing him to relax and melt into you in those moments of silence shared between you two.
sukuna: lets just say you're lucky he's touchy at all with you. he'll tolerate surprise hugs or pecks on his shoulder, but the only physical touch he seems to ever enjoy is when you're slotted in his lap, free to touch and poke at whenever he pleases. you'd whine if he pinched your cheek, squawk if he pressed his nails into the meat of your thighs, glare at him if he groped your ass. all those lovely reactions are a fair trade for you scooting yourself into his lap and using his chest as a pillow, he deems
NSFW UNDER CUT!!! MDNI
⋆。˚ ♡ cowgirl: save a horse, ride a cowboy seeing you take control is unbearably sexy. pivoting your hips up and down on their dick while your hands grip at their shoulders, or having their hands grab at your ass while you slowly grind down against them. either way theyre yours for the taking
ino: a loveable, yet irritating trait of your boyfriend, is that he struggled to fuck you again after a round. you couldnt blame him, with how fast and hard he pounded into you and how he'd always make sure to hit your sweet spots until you were spasming and cumming around his cock. but when you werent satisfied just yet, he spared no time lifting you up into his lap, eagerly offering his cock for you to use as you pleased. and really, how could you pass up an offer like that?
getou: why should he have to do the work when you look this good riding him? his eyes never leave yours while you're bouncing in his lap, the slap of your skin against his backing up your huffs and whines of pleasure, looking at him so pitifully when he backs his hips down out of you. "you want more? come on honey, work for it. thaaat's right, move your hips just like that f' me" he'd egg you on so sweetly, smiling at your pout while you spread your legs and angled your hips to take him deeper inside
⋆。˚ ♡ doggy style: nasty mfs who live for seeing your ass jiggle with every thrust or slap they give you. the way your tiny waist arches down and your chest is pressed flat against the sheets while they're pounding away at you is unbeatable to them
yuki: behind every woman with a big ass is an even bigger strap, and yuki is the prime example of that. she loves to fuck you in front of a mirror in this position too, cooing at you for being so good at taking her dick while fucking you with aimed precision, making you look at yourself while shes thrusting deep inside you. its enough to make you melt into the sheets and wail at the onslaught of pleasure going through your body, but dont worry, she still has so much more to give you
⋆。˚ ♡ against the wall: can you say desperate? they love this position so much, sloppy makeouts that lead to pinning you against the nearest surface because they feel like they'll die if their lips leave yours for even a second
gojo: call him a showoff, because its true. in this position, he can show you just how small you are compared to him, size and strength wise. bouncing you up and down on his cock until your pretty head doesnt work anymore, seeing your eyes oggle his flexed arms and the space where he was fucking up into you. this paired with fucking you inside his office? his dick has never been harder. the thought of someone hearing how good youre getting fucked, coupled with your horrible attempt at muffling your cries and moans makes him so fucking turned on
shoko: shes a true switch, which means its a toss up for whos gonna be on the wall in this position. it all depends on her mood, and who shes had to deal with today. if it was a slow day at work, she'll happily make out with you and grind her knee into your crotch against the door of your apartment for as long as she pleases. though, if her day was more hectic, shes not so subtly grinding herself onto your lap and pressing her fingers into your mouth, sighing woefully about how stressed she is until she expectedly pulls out her fingers, waiting for you to offer yourself to help her
⋆。˚ ♡ 69: they love the competitive-ness of this position. being able to grab your hips and shove them down onto their flat tongue, getting harder when they can feel how much you're struggling to focus from their mouth. but when you grind down into their mouth while bobbing your head on their cock? hooh
toji: hes so mean when he has you like this.. ruthlessly bucking his hips up into your tight and wet throat, sloppily licking and sucking at you and twitching at the feeling of you gagging when he hits the back of your throat. you can barely move your head, your brain getting fucked out by toji's tongue and lips expertly taking you apart piece by piece. you never lasted long when he had you like this either, much to his delight. eagerly lapping up your cum while you moaned and hopelessly squirmed in his grip felt better than any orgasm hes ever gotten, though your throat comes at a very close second
nanami: nanami can at times forget this position is for the both of you, with how into it he can get. hes good about it at first, groaning into you from the way your tongue licks and swirls around his thick cock. but the more he tastes you, the more ravenous he gets with his sucks against you, licking up any stray wetness that threatens to fall down your thighs as the pace of your sucking slows and breaks. you can try to lift your hips away from his tongue, but good luck with that. the grip he keeps on your thighs is near impossible to break, even if your an orgasm or two deep into the session
⋆。˚ ♡ mating press: whispers of them others name falling right into their lips as their hips rock into you, thighs pressed tightly against your chests and your legs shaking on top of their shoulders. the closeness of this position never fails to rile them up, allowing them to see every little face you make, and hear all those noises they fuck out of you
sukuna: youre helpless underneath him, and thats the way he likes it. you can barely move around when his large, muscular frame is pinning you plush against the sheets of your bed, arms forced to clumsily hold onto his shoulders as he fucks you so deep, so harshly that you choke on your own breath from the power behind his thrusts. "sssuku-na, please, too mm-! is' toomuch, oh" your pleads fall on deaf ears, his thrusts never faltering nor easing up with their intensity.
choso: he honestly thinks he'll die if he isnt pressed up against you while hes fucking you. it all feels so intimate when hes got you with your legs bound to your torso from his chest, his thighs holding your body steady while hes all up in your guts. he feels so wonderfully deep inside you like this, hardly able to get out a full sentence from the way you squeeze and milk his long cock, crashing his lips into yours as tears start to well up in his eyes from how good it all feels
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yawnderu · 2 months
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MDNI. p in v penetration, hardcore sex, choking, wrestling, punching, biting, nosebleed, scratching, creampie. Keegan calls anyone younger than him ''kid''.
“Give up, kid.” Your body thrashes underneath him, trying to get out of the rough headlock he put you in. Your closed fist slams against his leg multiple times, only making him apply more pressure, not letting you go even when your nails dig deeper and deeper into his skin.
“Fuck you... cunt.” You barely manage to mutter through gritted teeth, black dots appearing in your vision the harder he chokes you. He keeps your neck pressed against his bicep and forearm, flexing the muscle, sickly getting off on the way your loud gasps and whines ring around the training room.
The pressure in your face grows stronger by the second, loud gasps leaving your lips once he finally lets go, pushing your smaller body out of the way.
“If you're struggling that much, this isn't the place for you.” He spits out, clearly wanting a reaction out of you— and a reaction he gets the moment your elbow connects to his face, putting as much force as you can in hurting him, even if you have to play dirty.
Keegan's rough, calloused hand goes up to his nose the moment he feels warmth leaking down and the familiar taste of iron filling his mouth. He lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head softly and not even bothering to wipe down the blood staining his pale skin, letting it pool around his wife beater.
For anyone else, he'd look oddly unbothered by it, simply looking down at the floor and maybe even regretting being an asshole. For you? You know it's the calm before the storm, annoyance silently boiling inside him, slowly reaching its breaking point.
He licks his blood-stained lips before looking down at you, lifeless blue eyes simply staring for a few seconds, letting the silence linger simply to make you nervous.
Stubbornness and something else brew inside you the moment your eyes drift down, noticing the way his pants are tightening up, the outline of his thick cock showing more by the second. It's a subtle glance before your eyes meet his, yet by the annoying smirk on his lips, you can tell he knows.
You're stuck in a staring competition, refusing to give him the pleasure of letting him intimidate you the same way he does to everyone else. Keegan's stare may seem cold, yet you can see fire dancing in his baby-blue eyes, slowly coming to a breaking point. His lips crash against yours seconds later, rough hands opening your legs wide enough for his burly body to fit between them, his clothed hard cock rubbing against your pussy.
“Fuck you.” You repeat, pure venom in your tone despite the way your lips immediately go back to his. Keegan's tongue wraps around yours as his hand goes down to the hem of his pants, pulling out his cock with ease and laying it down on your stomach.
“Fuck me?” He whispers, letting out a dry chuckle at your vigorous nod. You don't need to look down to realize just how big Keegan's cock is, feeling the weight and warmth of it spreading all over your stomach, not protesting even when he rips your shorts and panties off of you, leaving them hanging on your ankle.
“Yeah... fuck you.” The way you're as stubborn as a mule even when he can see your exposed, sopping cunt almost makes him laugh, yet he doesn't need to be told twice. His leaking tip rubs against your folds, your slick and his precum mixing for a few seconds before he lines himself up, entering your needy cunt with a hard thrust. Your moans and gasps are silenced by his lips, barely even giving you time to get used to his meaty cock before he's slamming into you, shoving himself as deep as possible.
The disagreements you had in the past are slowly being pulled out of your brain with each hard thrust, silently surrendering as your velvety walls clench around him, the lewd sounds of muffled moans and your wet cunt being roughly fucked form a symphony, bouncing off the walls of the empty training room.
“This what you needed? To be fucked stupid by a big cock?” Keegan's sarcastic tone leaves you breathless, another whiny moan leaving your lips when his hips slam faster against yours, his meaty thighs ramming against your ass. His hands grip your waist tightly as he hammers into your needy cunt, short nails digging into your flesh with an intensity born of his own desires.
“Fuck— I'm sorry, kid.” His pathetic excuse of an apology is clearly fake, leaving you confused until you feel his teeth sinking into your shoulder, muffling the deep moans leaving his lips the moment he can feel his muscles tightening up, moving faster and harder inside you. You let out a pained groan, nails sinking deep into his muscular back, dragging them down in an attempt at dealing with the overwhelming sensation of his fat cock hitting your cervix over and over.
Keegan is about to pull out before your legs wrap around his waist, bringing him closer and closer until he lets out a deep grunt, hips stuttering as his cock throbs, shooting endless ropes of thick cum right into your needy, tight walls, making sure to shove himself as deep as possible while your cunt instinctively milks him dry.
His heavy body collapses over yours, trembling with the aftermath of your intense encounter. His heart races in his chest as he basks into the sensation of having empty balls and a warm body underneath him— despite the way your palm is connecting with his ribs harshly.
“Get off of me, dude.” Your protests go ignored, letting out a loud sigh when you hear snores right against your ear.
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rninies · 3 months
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✮ sleeping over - gojo satoru
synopsis: gojo satoru finally convinces you to stay over his place.
warnings: fluff, gn!reader, pouty gojo, reader loves teasing him — wc: 698
notes: new fic after idk how many days yipee hey people
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satoru dislikes staying at home sometimes. it’s not about how fancy his house is or even how comfortable it is. no, it’s about not having you in the house. he loves your company a lot and is always so dependent on you. he loves hugging you, kissing you, touching you — satoru loves your presence so much that he feels like he can’t live without you (it’s such an exaggeration you say to him when he says that to you).
“y/n, baby, honey,” satoru whines. he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back down onto his lap as you are about to stand up. “are you going to stay over tonight?”
“…mm, maybe next time,” you reply, and satoru groans.
“you always say next time, though.” satoru pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. “come on. just this once. we’ve been dating for four months now! it’s gotta happen someday.” the way he tightens his grip on your waist is a silent beg for you to stay. “please?”
you sigh, finally giving in. “okay, fine.” satoru gasps, happy. “but you will be taking care of dinner tonight.”
“okay!” satoru says in excitement. “what do you want? sushi? pizza? pasta? say anything and you’ll get it!”
you stifled a laugh. “hm, you can just make anything you want. i don’t mind.”
“okay. i’ll make us some kitsune udon.” satoru says. you nod in agreement.
satoru lets go of you, allowing you to move away from him. he takes the ingredients out and starts cooking. you silently admire satoru from the couch, looking at him cutting up the ingredients, boiling the water, and waiting for the udon to finish. as soon as he finishes, he sets the two bowls down on the table, clapping his hands in satisfaction.
“dinner’s ready!” satoru exclaims. you stand up, the smell of kitsune udon filling your nose. “mm, it smells amazing, toru!”
“of course it does.” satoru smugly says. “i’m the best cook after all. the best one you’ll ever meet in the entire world.”
“pft-” you giggled. “yeah, okay whatever you say, master chef satoru.” satoru frowns, not taking the insult (as he would call it) very well. however, instead of refuting you, he sits down at the left side of the table, far from you, and starts eating quietly. “why are you sitting so far away from me?”
“no reason why.” satoru shrugs, continuing to eat his udon. “why? you got a problem with that?”
you suppress the smile from forming on your face, knowing the reason behind this. “no. just wondering why.”
satoru frowns once more, upset at the lack of reaction. he stands up and sits next to you, slamming his bowl on the table, and spilling a little bit of the soup. “i can never get to you can i?”
“nope.” you say, popping the ‘p’. “you’re just too cute when you’re mad.”
“i hate you,” satoru mumbles. “i hate you with my every soul. i regret inviting you to stay over.”
“yeah, okay,” you say, finishing your udon. “wanna watch a movie after this?”
“yes.” satoru replies immediately. you both finish your meal, satoru immediately takes your bowl to wash it. “you can go pick the movie. if you pick the same barbie movie-”
“i am definitely watching barbie: princess charm school,” you say and rush to the couch. satoru chases after you and the both of you grab the remote, fighting over it. “hey-! come on, give me the remote, toru!”
“no way! i am not watching that movie for the tenth time this week and it’s only tuesday!” satoru says. “let me watch something i’ve been wanting to watch already! come on, let’s watch horror!”
“no way!” you exclaim, pulling the remote harder. “you know how much i hate horror! you’re the one who asked me to pick the movie for tonight so you better let me watch barbie!”
satoru pulls the remote back and it actually leaves your hand, making you lose your balance. you gasp, trying to catch your balance but you fail. satoru quickly catches you and the both of you fall on the couch. unsurprisingly, you fall on top of satoru, to which he is very happy about. “hey.” he says with a smile on his face.
“don’t say anything.” you frowned, though you were in a really comfortable position. “don’t move, actually. i’m really comfortable.”
“what?” satoru laughs. “at least let me be comfortable.” he holds you gently as he moves back to the couch. “there. and since i’m a nice host, i’ll let you watch barbie.”
“really? yeay!” your eyes sparkled happily. you grab the remote and play it. “just admit you like this movie. it’s a fun one!”
“yeah, sure.” satoru’s eyes are on you, watching the pretty smile on your face widen as the introduction to the movie starts. “i do like it.”
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taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul (send an ask to be added!) <3
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animeshotsh · 3 months
Text
Devils Touch | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader |
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Summary: Being forced to take pills alongside your mother just seems enough to end in hell...
Warnings: Suicide mentions | Death | Canon Violence| Cursing | Lucifer its a softie | SFW | Reader its between 5-7 | Reader takes the form of a sheep/cat mix | Reader's mom sucks tbh | Maybe platonic!yandere Luci? |
When you opened your eyes everytning was red. Screams and insults filled the air, the smell of blood and other things you could not understand filled your nose making you gag.
"Mom?" You asked to no one, no one took note of you. All you could see were strange creatures, some more human and some more animal.
Tears went down your face, you could remember being forced to take some pills. Your mother crying while she did the same.
Something was wrong, really wrong.
"And what do we have here?" A stranger voice said taking you by the collar, you ended up meeting with sharp red eyes, and that look....it did not mean well.
"L-let me go" you screamed trying to get free from this thing. Reacting out you saw your hands were now black with claws, making your mind quick you attacked that thing.
It let you go with a small "fuck". You took of running, not knowing where to go, but you could hear that thing behind you chasing you.
Taking a quick look behind you ended against something. Looking up someone wearing a white suit with a cane and a hat that had a snake looked to you.
"P-please help me" you tried again "I dont know whats happening I want my mom"
The stranger took you by your arms to inspect you.
Lucifer stood there with no emotion seeing the "x" on your neck. Suicide? He thought seeing the mark. But you were just a kid, with fluffy cat hears and a tail, however your hair was not the one from a cat but the one from a sheep...or a lamb. Two little horns did also appear on top of your head.
He cursed inside his mind. Maybe you were killed, or forced to something. You were too small, your soul did not let out any type of malice besides the "sin" of taking your own life.
He soon saw a Demon coming towards him, most likely looking for you, and with no debout their intentions were not good.
Just one flick of his hand the Demon was gone. You were shaking looking at him and then around you.
Fuck, he wished Charlie was here, he knew she would be able to calm you down.
Taking care of sinners was not his job. His job was to rule hell, but he could not just leave you in here. He was sure you would be dead again in seconds.
Or worse.
"Calm down Kid, im going to take care of you" his voice was as soft as he could. Turning around opening a gold portal to his home "whats your name?"
He nodded once he hear your name, carefully petting your head. He passed by many old photos of his family. A maid appear besides him looking at the sinner in his arms.
"Please, prepare a bath and get some clothes " Lucifer requested passing you to her.
Or well, trying to.
"N-no, I dont want to go with her!" Your hands took an iron grip on his suit.
Lucifer almost panicked at your state but tried to remember what he used to do when Charlie was this young.
"Listen, she is someone good. You will be taken care off. We can have lunch later, and some sweets"
"...chocolate?" You asked with pleading eyes
~☆~☆~☆~
After your bath and food you were in a better mood. Lucifer used this time to show you around the house while asking you different questions to try and know why you had ended in here.
He showed you his ducks collection and almost passed out by how much you loved them. You ignored him as you played with the duck, almost burning the wall with one of them.
Lucifer decided to tired you up and then look up for your mothers soul. If you two died together...then the chances of her being down here were high.
~☆~☆~☆
It was harder than he expected. The sugar from the chocolate gave you so much energy you ended checking every room of the house. Lucifer behind you trying to stop you from getting hurt or from breaking something.
"Catch me if you can!" You joked while he tried to balance two statues.
With a swing of his wings he was able to catch you, rolling down the stairs and laughtning with you. You seemed....happy almost forgetting your situation. To you this could be nothing but a bizarre dream.
~☆~☆~
Once you were tired enough, Lucifer took you to one room. His heart made a flip when you took his arm pulling him close.
But he needed to go and see where your mother's soul was. So he made the maid stay outside your room just in case you woke up.
~☆~☆~
"That fucking bastard, son of a bitch, cursed slut" Lucifer screamed almost burning his office. Turns out, your mother was not in hell or heaven, she was alive, whatever she was triying to do failed for her.
He wanted to go there and kill her himself. Not only her but heaven as well, you were just a kid. Sure, you had cursed, and lied sometimes, he had read your record of sins. But that was not enough to make you end down here.
He knew your faith was sealed. Heaven would never admit they made a mistake or listen to him for starters. He had to calm down and think.
And after some minutes he decided the safest option would be for you to stay with him. He was not sure how he would explain to you who he was or what had happened. But he knew a few things, besides him no one would try to hurt you, and also you made him feel happy again. He could raise you, be a better father, be someone you could relay on.
"Its decided" he said to himself, picking up a pen and a paper, he wrote down your name and his last name. This way the other sins and overlords would know not to mess with you.
"Dont worry (y/n) im going to protect you.
~☆~☆~
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luvyeni · 4 months
Text
❛LIFE AFTER❜ ( 00' liners )
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p. roommate!00'liners x fem!reader w. 3.6k+
— 𖦹 warnings. multiple sex scene, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, jealous renjun (bro has it out for haechan)
— 𖦹 ( life with your roomates after what happened previously ) !
authors note. people were asking for a part 2 so i had to deliver.
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You threw your head back , jaemins head buried in between your legs — his tongue licking your folds as his nose bumped against your clit. “Ja-jaemin fuck , more.” He held your legs open , holding your stomach down as you squirmed. “Fuck im gonna cum!” You screamed , legs shaking as you came on his tongue.
“Oh fuck!”
He pulled away with that same condescending smirk he wore every time he ate you out. “Jesus princess , you’re gonna pull my hair out of you keep gripping it like that.” You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”
You felt his cock twitching against you , reaching down to stroke him through his pants. “Sh-shit don’t.” He grabbed your hand. “Why not?” you questioned. “as much as I want bury my cock it your pretty pussy , I have class.” He said. “you’re gonna go the class hard.”
He shrugged , standing up on the bed. “Not like I haven’t before , it really helps with the ladies.” He wiggled his eyes brows , causing you to roll your eyes once again. “you jealous princess?” he smirked  , you scoffed.  “And why would I be jealous?” you slid your panties back on. “Oh yeah that’s right , you have three other alternatives.” He said — just as jeno walked into your room. “there goes one of them.”
It had been a long time since it was supposed to be a “one time thing” with your roommates — many times you’ve found yourself in jeno’s and jaemins bed , or haechan sneaking inside your room at night whining about how horny he was , asking you to help him out — which you almost always did.
Renjun on the other hand — he never really came to you , more like you went to him. He never denied you , or course not , he would never miss the opportunity to fuck you or have you go down on him , especially whenever he was stressed.
“Sorry sweet , can’t fuck you today , I have a class as well.” Jeno eyed your half naked body. “when have any of you cared about school that much?” you pouted. “haechan is on his way, you know he’s never not ready to fuck you.” Jeno said. “fine , and when I start fucking him only don’t say anything.” They both scoffed , seeing your bluff. “Jaemin , you know what I can miss a day , what about you?”
Jaemin smirked , you looked in between the both of them confused. “Yeah , it just a regular class , I can watch online.” Before you even ask what they were talking about , jeno was picking your body up , you yelped in surprise. “Jeno!” He held you down against his hardening cock. “You want cock so much , how about taking two?”
It was always just you and one of them , but the thought of two of them made your panties soak. “Look at her eyes , going dumb just by the thought.” Jaemin snickered,  his cock in front of your face. “that’s what you want to take two cocks at the same time -hm- like a slut?” you grinded down on jeno cock , he groaned out , slapping your ass , gripping it. “Sh-shit jeno.”
He lifted you up , pulling his cock out from his underwear and sweats , jerking his cock , slapping his head against your ass. “gonna fuck this cunt.” He pulled your panties to the side — his cockhead rubbing against your folds. “treat you like the whore you arm.” He abruptly pushed you down on his cock , both of you moaning out. “fu-fuck , pussy is so good.”
He pushed you down on your cock , the burn from his cock stretching you out deliciously. “that’s it , take my fat cock.” You moved your hips up and down , lifting your shirt up , sucking on you boobs that bounced on his face.
Meanwhile , jaemin was teasing you — his cock long freed from his pants , tapping against your lips , leaving behind a trail of his pre-cum. “you want my cock down your throat princess , want me to abuse your mouth while fucks you cunt.” He pushed his tip into your mouth. “fuuuuck , your mouth is so warm.” He groaned , sliding his cock into your mouth.
He slowly fucked into your mouth , occasionally hitting the back of your throat every time jeno fucked up into your hole. “God your mouth is like heaven.” He groaned. “gotta fuck your mouth often.” Jeno slapped your ass. “M'shit , your pussy is choking my cock , gonna cum inside you.”
He lifted his legs up , getting a better angle as he fucked you , you cursed , your words being muffled by jaemins cock. “Sh-shit keep doing that , she’s moaning like a slut on my dick.” He threw his head back. “Fuck! Im gonna cum down your throat.”
He grabbed the back of your head , pushing it all the way down , using your mouth like some sort of toy , before you felt his cum shoot to the back of your throat. “Oh fuck!” he cursed , pulling out , jerking off his still hard cock , more cum shooting from his red cock on to your lips , all the way up to your lips. “Look at you , nasty baby , gonna let jeno cum inside?”
“Y-yes.” You yelled out , feeling yourself about to cum. “i-im gonna fucking cum.” Jeno rutted his hips up faster. “Jeno -fuck- jeno im cumming!” you let out a pornographic scream , legs shaking , falling over as you came. “shaking like a leaf on my cock.” He laughed. “Jae she really a little slut.”
“Sh-shit im gonna cum.” Jeno hissed , pressing you down , nuzzling his cock deep inside as he came. “take my fucking cum slut , take it like the cumdump you are.” He fully emptied himself inside you — thank god for birth control.
“You have a filthy mouth.” You hissed as jeno cleaned you up. “me, had your mouth not been full of cock we both know your mouth is just as filthy as mines.” He helped you get dressed. You turned to jaemin who was resting on your bed. “did I say you can sleep here?” he opened one eyes before speaking.
“you just sucked the soul out of me , I did a nap and your room is the most comfortable." He closed his eyes — you turned to jeno who shook his head. “im gonna go watch the class online , since someone made me miss a class.” He said walking out of the room.
Renjun walked through the door , dropping his bag tiredly , his classes had worn him out — he just wanted to fall asleep in his bed , he didn’t even have the energy to fix himself some food , going straight to his room to sleep.
Well at least that’s what he wanted , to take a nice sleep — but instead he had to listen to you scream on the other side of his wall as his other two roommates fucked you. “sh-shit.” He could feel his cock stirring awake in his sweats , your moans were like music to his ears , bringing his hand to palm his cock. “No.” he stopped himself , he wasn’t gonna do that , turning on his side,  taking his pillow to cover his ear to block out the sounds.
By the time you guys were done , he was no longer even tired , he was hard a fuck and desperate to relieve himself — maybe he could ask you. You always came go him , he was too nervous to ask , but he knew he’d end up fucking his hand until his wrist grew tired if he tried to jerk off.
After playing mental gymnastics in his hand , he got up making his way put his bedroom to knock on yours. “come in.” he heard your soft voice , smiling to himself as he opened the door , stepping in , his smile immediately dropping as he looked at the scene in front of him.
You sat on your bed , scrolling through phone , half naked — while a half naked jaemin slept beside you. “o-oh shit im sorry.” He said , turning. “we aren’t doing anything , he’s sleep how can I help you?” He stared at your bare thighs,  wanting nothing more to than burry his head in between them , but he couldn’t cause of jaemin — lord he hated jaemin right now.
“O-oh n-nothing I was wondering if you wanted to get take out?” he said , cursing himself out in his head. “Sure , whatever you want is fine.” He nodded , taking a quick last peek at your thighs before making his way out of the room , shutting the door. “you know he wanted to fuck right?”
You slightly jumped , turning to him. “you scared me.” You slapped his chest. “And what do you know?” You said. “because im a man , I saw that look in his eyes.” He sat up. “how did you see anything if you were sleep.” You rolled your eyes. “call is a sixth sense.” He pinched your thigh , you slapped his hand. “that hurt.”
“Let me kiss it better.” He kissed your thigh. “I know what you’re doing.” He smirked against your thigh , before placing another kiss , spreading your legs. “good then we can skip that part.” He lowered his head in between your thighs.
“I'm home now , i just in.” you held the bags in your hand , making your way to your room — shopping tired you out and all you wanted was to lay down and watch tv in your bed.
Your door was open — that was strange , you always kept it closed. You walked up to the door , hearing a loud curse , realizing who it was , kicking the door open. “haechan how many times have I told you not to come into my room to use my computer.”
He turned in your chair , smiling. “I was waiting for you to come home.” He said. “I missed you.” He whined. “shut up mark.” He spoke through his headset.  “Wow you’re really comfortable — get out.” You dropped your bags. “Im tired and I don’t want to hear you yelling at mark right now.”
You heard him say goodbye to mark , as you got undress to your underwear , climbing into bed — feeling a dip right after.  “haechan I said — but I want you.” He whined in your ear.  “I waited all day for you.” You could feel him grinding his cock against your thigh , it made you smirk. “yeah?”
You brought your hand to his hard on squeezing it in your palm , he moaned. “what do you want.” You palmed him , he tried his best not to grind against your hand so he wouldn’t cum. “i-I want to f-fuck you , p-please.” He stuttered out. “Please.”
He sounded so cute begging for you like that , humping you leg. “keep humping my thigh , then maybe i'll let you fuck me.” He whined , annoyed. “Y-y/n why?” he pouted , still not stopping his movements though. “because I like watching you act like a bunny in heat.” You teased. “fucking my thigh like it’s the last thing you’ll ever fuck.” You bit his ear lobe , his hips stuttered against your leg. “fuck?”
He felt his front becoming wet , his ears turning red — he’d just came in his pants like a teenager. “good boy.” You praised. “you can fuck me now.” He wasted no time , ripping his pants  off , throwing them along with his ruined underwear , climbing in between your legs. “Slow down hyuck , im not going anywhere.”
“I’m so horny.” He pressed his needy tip at your entrance. “I can’t help it.” He pushed into your waiting hole. “of fuck , I can’t.” He felt like he was going crazy the way your cunt gripped him like vice. “your pussy is too tight.” You moaned , as he rutted into your hole. “fu-fuck hyuck your so big.”
He reached between your sweaty bodies , rubbing your hard clit. “oh fuck hyuck im gonna cum , fuck!” you shouted  , he sped up his movements. “m-me too , I want you to cum first.” He stuttered. “Cum first.” He rubbed harsher circles on your clit. “fuck im cumming!��� You moaned , tightening your legs around his waist as you came. “fu-fuck cum inside me hyuck.”
“Shit.” He cursed upon hearing your lewd words.  “fuck im cumming.” He emptied himself inside you , rutting his hips a few times to ride out his high, before pulling out his softening cock.
“Didn’t know you had a breeding kink.” He teased , you rolled your eyes. “Don’t tease me when you came all over  yourself not only 20 minutes ago.” He shrugged , nestling into your side. “no shame in my game , not every day a bad bitch lets you hump her thigh.” You laughed. “you are so corny.”
“Good morning lazy bums.” You walked into the kitchen where everyone was. “its 11:30 , and we’re the lazy bums , do you even go to school?” Jaemin joked. “when absolutely necessary.” You grabbed a yogurt from the fridge . “I need my beauty sleep.” You said.
“Or maybe you need to stop fucking haechan 4 o’clock in the morning.” Jeno said , both of you turned to him. “what I do in her bedroom is none of your business.” He said , with his mouth full of cereal. “it is when its 4 o’clock in the morning.” Renjun muttered, he was quietly sitting at the table , watching you. “Are you just upset that it's not you?” hyuck teased, you slapped his hand. “Go get ready.” You said. “Before I tell everyone what you did the other day.” He quickly got up , making his way into his room. “he doesn’t know you told us already.” You shook your head. “I have few more errands , don’t tell him just yet.”
“do you have class today?” you asked renjun once you both were alone , he shook his head — he’d been doing that a lot lately , only using head , or really short answers. “No.”
He stood up , putting his dish in the sink. “im going back to my room.” He said before making his way back to his cave where could be alone.
He didn’t mean to be so rude , he knew he shouldn’t be jealous , it’s not that he hated what you were doing , he just wish he could come to you like they could , without getting nervous — like how haechan did , fuck sometimes he wanted to stuff his mouth with socks.
Jeno and jaemin he had no problem with them , at least they didn’t be smug assholes about it — bur hyuck , he had to let everyone know what was going on , tease him to his face , mock him , it just pissed him off.
It pissed him off always hearing you moan his name , how much a dick he’d be in the morning after. “fuck.” He groaned , the mere thought of your moans turned him on , so desperately wanting to feel you again.
You knocked on his door , waiting for him to answer. “Jun.” you called , he opened the door. “yes?” He stuck his head out. “I just wanted to ask if you’re okay?” no he was horny as hell , and wanted to beat haechan up. “im fine.”
“you sure , you just seem.” You started. “Seem what?” he said. “well like you are — upset?” he interrupted. “well yeah.” You said. “are you?” You asked. “yes.” He said , your lips parted to speak. “is that not what you wanted me to say?” he said. “that everything was just fine when it’s not.” He was now out of the room , backing you against your bedrooms door. “just like always.”
You didn’t know why , but his new change of attitude was turning you on. “w-well why are you upset?” you tried not to stutter but he pressed against you,  his breath fanning against your face. “You want know princess , you really want to know?” fuck that nickname almost made your knees buckle. “Because im horny as fuck. He said.
“Im horny as fuck , and every time I want to come to you , you’re always busy , or too busy fucking haechan to even notice.” His hand running up your arm , causing you to shiver. “He’s always in the way , I don’t care about the others , but it’s always him.” His lips were so close to yours. “im so sick of him.” He pressed his lips against yours.
He opened the door — you stumbled back but he caught you , not breaking the kiss until you reached the bed. “sit down.” He pushed you down , sitting in front of your legs , spreading them. “he talks so much shit about how he does this better , m’gonna show him.” He pulled down your panties. “such a wet cunt.” He licked your folds. “taste so good.” He dove right in , licking at your cunt , using his thumb to rubbed at your clit.
You threw your head , back holding his head. He was better than hyuck , but you’d never tell , you were trying  to start world war three in the apartment.  “so fucking good jun.” he hummed against your cunt. “shit.”
He added a finger , thrusting slowly in your cunt , sucking at your clit. “fuck jun im gonna cum!” he gave you the okay , your legs stiffened as you came. “oh my god.” You gasped , he pulled away , his lips glossy.
He didn’t mutter a word , pushing you back against the bed , climbing on top of you. “re-rejun , please.” You begged. “Please fuck me.” He palmed himself , releasing his hard cock. “Do you even deserve it?” He rubbed himself against your heat. “I don’t think you do.”
“pl-please , I want it.” You moaned , he slowly push his cock into your hole , stopping at his tip. “you want the hole thing?” he teased , slowly fucking you with his tip. “re-renjun please.” Tears wielding in your eyes. “awe are you crying.” He teased. “you want my cock that bad?” you nodded. “pl-please.”
He pushed himself all the way in , bottoming out. “fuck such a nice cunt.” He moved his hips , dragging his cock in and out of your hole. “nice and tight.” He groaned. “f-faster.” You cried , he began to snap his hips against yours , pinching your nipples. “Fu-fuck im not gonna last if you keep gripping me like that.”
You were overwhelmed , ready to cum at any moment. “you gonna cum princess?” he said. “cum all over my cock? Do it , cum.” He commanded , and with that you came , tightening around him. “oh shit , im gonna cum.” He grunted. “shit.”
You felt his seed pour inside you , you sighed at the feeling. “so good.” He stilled his hips , making sure he was empty , before pulling out. “shit.” He watched it leak out of you. “that’s so hot.”
He helped you get dressed — putting on your clothes back on , you sat up in the bed , pulling him back down on the bed. “what?” You pushed him down , to lay down. “maybe if you stayed , haechan wouldn’t always be here to keep me company.”
His face turned red , you laughed. “if you want to come hang out with me , then just ask, you don’t have to make this whole thing weird , you see me and jaemin , we hang out all the time.” You said. “even when we aren’t you know.”
“Then let’s go somewhere, tomorrow.” He asked , just as the door opened. “yeah let’s go.” Hyuck walked in , renjun was about to get up , but you stopped him. “hyuck , I love you but not today.” The boy pouted. “why not , he’s about to leave isn’t he?” You shook your head. “no , he’s staying here and hanging out with me , we can hang out later on , now go.” You sent the pouting boy on his way , you turned to him with a smile.
“Now what should we do?”
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©️LUVYENI
2K notes · View notes
gutsby · 3 months
Text
Finders Keepers
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Pairing: bfd!Joel x Reader
Summary: Something about the sun in Cabo San Lucas and your best friend’s father’s sweaty body makes you a horny mess. When you find an old pink shirt of his lying around, you really can’t resist. When Mr. Miller finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.
Warnings: 18+. No plot, just porn! Age gap, size kink, praise kink, masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, choking, and a healthy dose of Daddy!Joel. Yes, I need to be locked away in a cage for how feral this man makes me.
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A heatstroke would be a kindness in these conditions.
Seeing your best friend’s father frolicking around on the beach with his broad, bare chest on display, skin coated with sweat, and his swim trunks worn so tight you could practically taste the outline of his bulge with every step? That had been your own personal hell for the past hour.
Naturally, you’d had to fake a dehydrated spell and slip off to your villa for some much-needed sexual relief.
“Damn you, Mr. Miller,” you cursed, crawling across the bed with your fingers about to snake between your legs, “Why won’t you just pin me down and fuck me stupid?”
You knew the answer as well as anyone else that this man was totally off-limits—being your best friend’s dad and twice your age and all—but that wouldn’t stop you from touching yourself to the thought just the same.
The bottom half of your bikini was brushed crudely to the side as your fingers worked a furious circuit around your clit. Your hips bucked, head throbbed, insides churned with a fire you couldn’t even begin to describe, and all you could picture was Joel Miller lying there, eyes trained on you as he slotted himself between your legs and fucked you hard enough to break the bed in two.
You slipped your hand beneath a pillow, gripped the sheets under there in a fist, and closed your eyes. Then you yanked the fabric between your fingers and felt somewhat confused—and surprised.
When you looked to your left and lifted the pillow, you saw an odd pink fabric in your hand. You let it go and saw that it was a t-shirt. A big one.
No fucking way.
You would recognize that soft, heady, sandalwood scent anywhere.
It was Mr. Miller’s shirt.
You buried your nose in the material and inhaled as much of that sweet, delectable DILF as you could manage. Wanting him in you, on you, surrounding you completely with his scent so you could pretend he was there in that king-sized bed with you.
Before you could think, you threw the shirt on and grabbed the nearest pillow.
Fuck, you felt crazy. But by God, you were free.
You straddled the cushion between your thighs and rubbed your barely-clad cunt over the seam, whimpering to no one and nothing in particular. You closed your eyes and dragged your hips along that spot, humping it again and again, imagining it was Mr. Miller’s fat, throbbing member instead of a pillow and felt a rush.
“Oh, Joel— oh daddy, fuck me, please.”
You threw your head back and felt every bit the loud and obnoxious porn star as you rode to your heart’s content.
Your hand clamped down on the headboard and anchored your body in place, allowing you to grind your hips even harder. The sensation was crazy—nowhere near as insane as Mr. Miller’s own cock, you reckoned, but good enough—and the longer you rutted your lower half against that pillow, the closer you got to climax.
“I’m so fucking close, want you to cum all inside me.”
With one more protracted, lewd moan, you squeezed your legs together and were about to reach your release, when a sound at the far end of the room almost sent you, your pink t-shirt, and pillow flying off the bed in a panic.
Glass shattered on the ground. You tried desperately to throw the covers over your body and hide yourself.
To your horror, you saw a wide-eyed, petrified Joel Miller standing at the threshold of the room—holding a bottle of ibuprofen and, just seconds before, a cup of water.
The red-faced father of two turned as though he were about to leave, then, reconsidering why he had come up there in the first place, decided to try and play it cool.
“I…brought you some Advil,” he announced, awkward as a cow on roller skates.
You sat up and forced a smile. Tried to pretend like you weren’t just balls deep in a fantasy of him bending you over a table and railing you raw and senseless.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The two of you languished in the world’s longest, and most uncomfortable beat of silence, before Joel’s gaze presently fell to your chest. He couldn’t help himself.
“Is that my shirt?”
You glanced down. You could try and lie, maybe save face in one desperate, last-ditch effort.
“Yeah. It just, uh…smelled,” you said instead.
What the fuck was wrong with you?! Surely the Mai Tais hadn’t been that strong to make you act so fucking dumb. But then again, this was your lizard brain talking, and there was no telling how weird you could get around a man as handsome as Mr. Miller. It was humiliating.
To your surprise, your friend’s father just raised his brows and smiled. A bit strained and uncertain, to be sure, but at least he hadn’t fled the room. You watched as his eyes trailed down the length of your body and stopped somewhere around the hem of his shirt, where the fabric gave way to your soft, bare legs. You couldn’t work out if he was intrigued or simply amused. Derisive, even.
Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to stew on those thoughts for much longer, because Joel tossed the pill bottle to the side and made his way over to the bed.
Out of shock—and utter disbelief—you leapt back on the mattress and tried to make distance, but damn if Mr. Miller didn’t have some speed in those old bones. He easily snagged your ankle in one hand and dragged your body back to his. In the process, his oversized tee rolled up over your tummy and exposed your lower half to him, leaving you at an angle you never thought he’d see.
“So I smell?” he murmured, braving a hand up your thigh.
You actually wanted to die. In a good way.
You quickly recollected yourself and shook your head.
“No! No. Not at all, Mr. Miller, I just…I liked it a lot, actually,” you stammered, tensing when his fingers started to trace the skin of your thigh a little higher.
“How much?” Joel asked. This time he almost looked stern as he watched you react to his hand making its way to your heat. Particularly when he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your flimsy bikini bottom.
You couldn’t hope to hide the yelp that crept up your throat when he did. You’d just been humping a pillow, a half a breath away from orgasm, when he’d interrupted. Your whole body was sensitive, to say the least.
At length, Joel made circles with his thumb and watched you squirm when he brought his touch under your panties. He hummed, feeling you drenched between your legs.
“Oh, darlin’, this is awful,” he frowned.
You swallowed a whimper and raised your gaze to him.
“W-what? What’s awful?”
Right before he answered, Mr. Miller sank two fingers inside you, prodding them gently between your soft, fleshy walls and eliciting the softest of moans from you.
“How needy this sweet little thing is for me,” he tsked, curling his fingers to bring about an even louder sound, “How pathetic and wet and horny you’ve been getting for a dirty old man like me. Must hurt somethin’ terrible.”
He had you there. You were greedy and needy and soaking the sheets like you never had before, dripping more arousal the longer he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You watched Joel’s expression change, and suddenly he was retracting his hand and bringing it down to his shorts. Those tight, bright red, bulge-teasing swim trunks that had been driving you buckwild earlier.
His erection was considerably bigger now, swollen with desire and leaping out of his shorts the second he yanked down the fabric.
“I can make that hurt go away, honey. Just lay still.”
Were you a victim of the world’s most vivid, lust-filled lucid dream of all time or was this actually happening? You almost couldn’t believe when the strings of your bikini were loosened and your pussy laid bare before him, shortly met with the throbbing head of his cock.
“You do want me to get rid of that funny feeling, right?”
You almost snapped your neck nodding so fast.
Mr. Joel Miller was going to take care of you—make that terrible, tingling ache go away with his dick.
Before you had a chance to prepare, the man was pushing himself inside you. Searing your walls with that thick, veiny member you’d just been dreaming of before. You couldn’t believe how full you felt, how fantastic he smelled, how overwhelmingly present he was to make you feel as good as you could.
His thumb was back at your clit, pressing light as a feather as he wedged his cock further inside you.
“C’mon, honey, let daddy in,” he murmured low, close to your ear as he sank his length between your folds, “Let me make you feel good.”
You whimpered and grasped at his shoulders, legs wrapping tight around his waist like a vice.
“Feel better than you expected?” Joel smirked.
“Yes, daddy. So fucking good,” you groaned when you felt his pubic bone brush your own. His thumb kept working your bundle of nerves as his hips began to stir.
“How long have you been touching yourself to me, hm?”
His question was simple enough but the hardest for you to answer in your present condition, Joel’s thrusts just beginning to pick up the pace. His balls slapped lightly against your ass, and his whole frame enveloped you in bed, shaking the frame with every stroke he gave you.
“Since— since the day I met you,” you managed in a breath. That breath melded quickly to a strangled moan when Joel seized hold of the base of your throat.
“That long and you never asked me to help out, darlin’?” his voice was almost taunting, his thrusts growing faster.
In no time at all, he was slamming into you full-force, hand still wrapped around your neck and lips curled into a smile. He’d never say it aloud, but he’d been dreaming about you too, as long as he could remember, from the very first day his daughter had introduced you to him.
It was wrong—he knew it just as well as you did.
But that didn’t change the fact of how good you felt wrapped around him, taking every inch of his cock as he pounded you into the bed.
“You’ll promise—” he paused to drive the head of his cock to your cervix and make you whine underneath him, “—to tell me, next time you have one of these feelings?”
“I will. I-I promise,” you whimpered.
“Good girl.” Joel kissed the crown of your head before he went back to fucking you rough.
You were almost embarrassed to say it was happening this fast, but that hot, euphoric feeling was building up inside you. You clamped your bottom lip between your teeth and willed it not to happen—not to make a mess of Mr. Miller’s cock so soon—but the sensation was stronger than you. And Joel saw it, too.
“Is my good girl gonna cum for me?” he grunted.
When you started to answer, you felt his fingers make their way to your mouth and push sharply past your lips. Made you suck his index and middle fingers as he fucked you and had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
And, to your surprise, he kept talking you through it.
“Keep fucking me, honey, keep milking this cock. You’ve made it this far—might as well cum all over me, huh?”
He looked cocky and self-assured—the same old Mr. Miller that you’d come to know and love. Only this time, he was helping you through an orgasm, all stretched out over his member and desperate for release. You dug your heels in the small of his back and sucked his fingers even harder, nodding your head when he told you to cum for daddy, cum all over this cock.
It was arguably one of the best orgasms of your life, getting pounded hard and fast while Mr. Miller groaned above you and shot his own load deep inside you. Unlike before, with that pillow wedged between your thighs, you actually screamed from the pleasure, bit down on the man’s fingers and bounced back and forth as you rode out your high in a firestorm of fervor and bliss.
In short, you were fucked-out and happier than ever.
Joel collapsed beside you, seemingly feeling the same.
You weren’t sure how long you laid there, or when those smug, cunning features first appeared on his face, but suddenly he was up—propped beside you with a smile.
That handsome, grinning bastard trailed a finger to your neckline and tugged at the neon pink fabric of his shirt.
“So…when can I have this back?”
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satoruwiki · 3 months
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♡꒷UNPROFESSIONALISM!ᰔᩚ
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MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DNI!!
content: nsfw; smut; drabble; car sex; afab!reader; p in v sex; spanking; unethical & unprofessional conduct; riding satoru’s fat cock
w.c: 0.2k —0.1k
n/a: had this little scenario in my mind last night before I went to sleep and i knew i had to write it down. im thinking of making this a mini series, if it goes well. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3
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...
"We shouldn't be doing this, it's unprofessional," you whine, holding onto his shoulders. "What if the kids catch us?" You say, bouncing on his cock, your wetness dripping down his thighs.
"That's not what you said when I fucked you on my desk the other day," he teases you, gaining a subtle pout and whimper of embarrassment from you. He's right, though. He's been fucking you ever since you took Ijichi's place and became assistant director and driver—more like his little assistant. "And don't worry, I made sure they won't come back anytime soon so we can have our little fun," he hissed, giving a light squeeze to your ass cheeks, spreading them apart. "I sent them to exorcise a special grade curse."
You gasped, halting your movements on top of him. "Gojo!" You chastised, giving him a light slap on his shoulder. "You can't just send them to a special grade curse, it's too dangerous! They're kids!" You say appaled and frowning your brows, now worried for his students and their safety.
"Relax, I know my students. They can get out of this one." He tells you coolly with that same smug smile he always has like it would put you at ease or something. "And if they're in deep trouble, I'll just get them out of there and do the job instead," he shrugs.
"Now, who told you to stop riding me, hm?" Satoru says, giving you a mean spank on your ass, making you moan loudly and resume bucking your hips.
BONUS!
...
"Ew, what's that smell?" Nobara scrunches her nose as she sits down in the backseat of the car. Yuuji follows her right after and also sniffs the air and frowns. "It does smell weird," he agrees.
As Megumi buckles up, he notices your flushed face and how you and Satoru both have a light sweat on you. "Why are you guys sweating?" he asks with narrowed eyes and suspicion in his words.
His words startle you, and you become a stammering mess. Your eyes plead for Satoru's help, who does nothing but grin widely at your reaction. "It's really hot in here! You guys don't feel it?" you say, smiling nervously.
"No, it's winter," Nobara scoffs, looking at you like you just grew horns out of your head.
"This car's a little old, hence the unregulated AC and the weird smell," Satoru finally intervenes. "I think we should ask Yaga to provide us a new car, don't you think?" he asks you. You know that behind that blindfold, he is looking at you with playful eyes.
"Yeah…" You mutter, starting the car. Oh, you were going to kill him as soon as you were left alone.
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nanaslutt · 4 months
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Sharing is caring
pairing: kirara & hakari x reader
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contains: fem reader, threesome, spanking, slight manhandling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral(r!receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating, established relationship between hakari & kirara
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"Fffuuuuck-" Your eyes rolled back in their sockets as you came down from yet another orgasm on Kirara's tongue. How many was that now? Two? Three? "Good fucking girl, swallow everything," Hakari growled to his pretty girlfriend, praising her for making you cum so hard yet again. Hakari slowed his thrusts inside Kirara she hastily licked up your cum, greedily swallowing it down.
Her moans were vibrating through your sensitive cunt, making your legs twitch around her head. You appreciated the reprieve of her tongue against your clit, giving you time to recover before she undoubtedly would dive back in and eat you out like a woman starved.
Her mouth detached from your cunt to open in a loud moan when Hakari thrust into Kirara's pussy particularly hard, his fat dip drilling right into her g-spot, making her see stars. "Does that feel good, Kirara?" You asked, smiling as your hands cradled her blushing cheeks.
She nodded, the cockdrunk smile you were so familiar with gracing her features once more as she looked up at you, the bottom half of her face covered in your cum. "So f-fucking good~ Ken always fucks me so- g-gooood~" She whined, her moans coming out choppy and high-pitched as Hakari started up a faster pace inside her cunt, his girth splitting her tight cunt open with each thrust. 
"Yeah? You love this fucking dick pretty girl~" Hakari teased, landing a harsh smack against the fat of her ass, resulting in another pretty whine spilling from her lips. "Yesyesyes-" She responded, her eyes crossing as she fucked herself back on his cock, trying to get him as deep as possible.
"Don't get so cockdrunk you forget about our little guest baby." Hakari tsked. The incredibly build man leaned over Kirara, his chest pressed to her back as one of his hands steadied himself on the bed, the other pressing down on the back of his girlfriend's head, shoving her face against your cunt.
Immediately, her soft lips suckled around your clit once more, making your back arch at the sudden stimulation. "Oh, shit-" You slurred, your head tipping back against the pillow behind you. Immediately Hakari's cologne filled your nose, their scents were all around you, making you feel high.
"Does my girlfriend's tongue feel good against 'ur sensitive clit, hm? Talk to me." Hakari asked, his thrusts getting needier inside Kirara. With the new position, he had a front-row seat to Kirara's eager mouth devouring your cunt. Your pussy was being so loud, and he could smell the scent of you so much better, it was all making his cock twitch.
You kept your head tipped back against the pillow, your eyes screwed shut in pleasure as you rolled your hips up against Kirara's tongue. "S-shes so good at eating p-pussy, fuck!" Your moans increased in volume when you felt her slender fingers prod at your entrance, two of her small fingers sliding in with ease, expertly curling into your g-spot with pinpoint precision. 
"Oh my god your f-fingers-" You gasped, speaking to Kirara. Your chin fell to your chest, your eyes squinted and your face scrunched in pleasure as you watched her eat you out. You could feel her smiling agaisnt your cunt, her eyes fluttering as she looked up at you for your approval. 
"Yeahhh~ That's my fucking girl." Hakari praised, emphasizing his words with a rough thrust inside her tight cunt. Her lips wrapped around your clit meant that each and every one of her moans, no matter the volume, was being sent directly into your clit, and each time, it made your toes fucking curl over her shoulders.
"mmmmm~" She moaned against you purposefully, acknowledging Hakari's words. She pistoned her fingers in and out of your sloppy cunt at the same pace Hakari was fucking her, the three of you working each other up to your orgasms in tandem.
Hakari bit his lip, his eyes flicking between your cunt and your face screwed in pleasure, his fingers digging into the sheets by Kirara's side as he tried to stave off his orgasm long enough for the both of you to cum first. He was trying to think of something unsexy, a person, a song, anything. Unfortunately for him, he was currently fucking two of the hottest people he'd ever seen, so thinking about anything besides what was happening right in front of him was proving to be quite difficult.
Kirara gasped against your folds, her mouth pulling away just long enough to speak, "K-ken I'm close- I'm so close." she whined before she dove back into your pussy, her fingers and mouth worked harder as she tried to build you up to your high, wanting you to cum with her.
Hakari has never been more relieved to hear a set of words in his life, his eyes rolled back in his head as he mindlessly reached under Kirara's body to rub her clit in small circles, biting back a groan when he felt her cunt squeeze around him. "Make her cum pretty girl, make her cum on your face while you cum on my cock." Hakari groaned, his own words working him up.
You felt your face heat up at his words. Kirara was doing a great job at working you up so fast. She did have the same equipment as you, after all, she was quite familiar with making a woman's body orgasm, hard. "God, fuck- right there Ki- right fucking there-" You whined, keeping your eyes on her beautiful purple ones, her eyes fighting the urge to roll back in her head as she held the contact with you.
"You're so pretty- so f-fucking pretty, both of you." Hakari moaned, the knot in his stomach tying tighter as he watched you eyefuck his girlfriend, not being able to see her face but knowing she was giving you the same look back. Her free hand released the hold she had on your thigh, opting to slide under your thigh to reach up your body, aiming for your hand.
With shaky hands you reached down and tangled your fingers with hers, gripping tightly as you felt yourself only moments from tipping over the edge. "I'm cumming- c-cumming" You warned before your back arched, your cunt rubbing against her mouth. 
Kirara shook her head back and forth against you as your orgasm wracked through your body, your nails dug into the back of her palm, but she didnt mind. How could she when she had the cutest girl she'd ever seen spasming all over her tongue? 
Hakari's jaw dropped as his eyes stayed glued to your face, taking in how adorable your orgasm face was. The man winced and looked down to where he was connected with his girlfriend when he felt her cunt squeeze around him--she was about to cum. He rubbed his finger against her clit faster, harder, trying to make her cum quicker so he could follow suit.
Kirara's high came only seconds after yours, her moans coming through muffled as she moaned into your folds, doing her best to keep thrusting her fingers inside your cunt as she came around Hakari's cock. "Oh fuck- Cum for me baby, that's fucking right, so- fucking tight-" He groaned, his hips fucking sloppily against her ass as he fucked her through her orgasm. 
You gasped harshly as you came down from your high, your eyes gaining their focus as you watched Kirara's head lay limply against your inner thigh, her face scrunched in pleasure as she rode out her orgasm on Hakari's cock. It was now her turn to dig her long acrylics into the back of your hand as she used you to ground herself as she came. 
"Good girl Kirara, doing so fucking good~" You praised, squeezing her hand back, your free hand caressing the side of her face. Hakari came right after her, you had started some sort of butterfly effect. His hips stilled against her as he released rope after rope into her tired pussy, his balls pressed flush against her ass as he made sure to give it to her nice and deep.
She whined in overstimulation as she came down from her orgasm before him, his hips continuing to roll against her ass as her pussy milked his cock. Once he was sure he had nothing left to give, he slowly pulled his cock out of her hole, whistling at how his cum immediately dripped from her pussy and down the expanse of her cunt from how much he came.
"Good girls, you guys did so good." Hakari praised, sitting back on his heels. You and Kirara sat up, sitting on your knees as you looked at the man behind her, the both of you gasping as you caught your breaths from such intense orgasms. "You cuties gonna come clean this mess or what?" Hakari asked, his eyebrow raising. His cock twitched as it slowly softened, his dick looking so messy from how much of Kirara's cum was coating it.
Kirara looked at you and giggled before she crawled forward toward him, keeping your hand in hers as she pulled you with her. You let her pull you toward Hakari, the two of you lying on your stomaches as he grabbed the base of his cock and waved it out in front of him for the two of you.
Kirara took the initiative in replacing her hand with his as she leaned in and started licking her tongue along the base of Hakari's cock, swallowing up their combined cum. You followed suit once your post-orgasm brain realized what you were supposed to do. 
You licked along the other side of Hakari's cock, the bittersweet taste of the couple's cum hitting your tastebuds, making you moan as you licked along his cock. Your tongue touched Kirara's occasionally as you both looked for more of his dick to clean off. Your lips wrapped around his tip as she sucked at his base. 
He hissed in sensitivity when you suckled against the tip, making sure you really cleaned him off. You were stopped in your ministrations when Kirara's smaller hand grabbed your chin and pulled you off his cock, tilting your head to face hers. "Oh shit." Hakari laughed through a groan when Kirara crashed your lips together.
Your tongues tangled together sloppily, drool and cum dripping from the side of your mouth as she kissed you eagerly, moaning against your lips. "So fucking hot." Hakari moaned under his breath, his cock twitching in interest as Kirara crushed her jaw against yours. When she pulled away, you were a gasping mess, your expression looking drunk as you looked at her dumbly, your mouth open in a small o shape.
She leaned forward once more, her tongue poking out between her lips as she licked up the cum and saliva that made a mess on the side of her face. She pulled back and swallowed it eagerly, making sure your eyes were on hers before she licked her lips clean in front of you, relishing in the way your face flushed a deeper shade of red.
"I don't know about you two, but watching that shit got me all fucking hard again." Hakari voiced, laughing as he gripped the base of his cock, giving his length a couple of slow strokes, his hand sliding over his cock with ease thanks to the combined spit you left on him.
"I can go again," Kirara answered before she looked at you. "Wanna switch positions this time?" She asked, her expression excited as she tipped her head at you, waiting for your response. You swear your brain short-circuited in that moment.
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luvmila444 · 3 months
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Photo Booth - C.S
…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………
Chris sturniolo x fmreader
summary: visiting the classic Photo Booth with you boyfriend chris and his brothers becomes a bit dirty while left alone in the booth together.
content warning: SMUT; dry humping; switch chris; praise kink; public (kinda?); no actual p in v
word count: 1.6k words
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“I can’t believe you guys are back here again, what is this the fourth time now?” You ask in a joking tone looking toward the three boys in-front of you. 
“Fifth,” nick corrects in his usual smart, know-it-all tone that i love so much. 
“Yeah, but hey, it’s not the same as the last time because this time we have you,” Chris grinned goofily at you as he started to walk closer to you. Chris has been your boyfriend for almost four months now and you guys couldn’t be happier. You didn’t just love being around him and all his stupid statements that make no sense, or his smell of familiar cologne that lingers in the air, or the way his large hands felt caressing you back soothingly while relaxing. No, you also love being with his family and friends and fans. Everything about you guys was perfect.
Chris slowly moved around you and snakes his hands around your waist before lowering his head down onto your shoulder. You still get butterflies from these small loving actions that he does toward you, but you just can’t help it, he just brings it out in you. Chris was a real touchy person and you loved it. It made you feel so comfortable. You loved that after a passionate night of rough crazy sex, he would then take care of you and envelope you into a tranquil sensual cuddle that would quickly send you both off into a very peaceful sleep.
After a few second, which felt like a lot longer as time had always seemed to slow down when you guys were together, you suddenly remember a familiar presence in the room…
“Woah, yeah thanks for that guys, i was going for the traumatised look while i was in that booth,”matt says with an eye roll while he steps backwards and begins to rub his eyes. The boys then begin to comically argue but i soon drown it out as i look up at chris standing above me.  His hair floppy and falling in-front of his face looking so soft that i could just run my hands through it or tug at at it gently. 
“Yeah, well I’m gonna go freshen up and check myself before taking any photos,” nick cuts everyone off with his assertive tone before beginning to turn around and in the direction of the bathroom, “anyone else coming?’ He asks not sparing a glance to turn as he heard the family footsteps of matt and the car keys that jingled from side to send on his belt loop, doing a short quick jog behind him to get to his side.
As matt and nick exited the room. Chris quickly whirled you around, so you were now facing each other. He was taller than you but that did not stop you from still seeing and admiring every detail of his perfect face, from the smiles lines that were now forever present on his face to the slower vanishing freckles that were once dotted on his nose but only really come out when the sun hits him just right. 
“I have an idea,” he grins, a grin of mischief which you can only assume with get you in trouble latter with his brothers. You tilt my head to the side and squint my eyes and allowing him to finish what he was saying and tell you what this ‘idea’ he had was. “Do you want to do a practise run of the booth without them?” He asked excitedly, it is almost difficult to decline him.
“Chris, i think you’ve had enough practise runs with the a million times you’ve come here before,” you are almost scolding but seeing his face with his ever-present smirk plastered on their you just gave in to easily, “but i dont know how it works so show me,”you then exclaim excitedly before he grabs your hand and pulls you towards the booth, pulling back the curtain and sitting inside. 
It was a lot smaller than you had originally thought, but then again it was quite old fashioned and there was never any harm in getting a little too close to your boyfriend while his brothers aren’t present. So, you decide to place yourself on his lap and close the curtain with one and as the other hand wraps itself around Chris’s neck for stability. 
You hadn’t even noticed how much Chris had enjoyed the touch until you try and get yourself more comfortable on his lap, wriggling about making Chris go crazy behind you. 
“Ma, I’m gonna go crazy if you keep doing that to me”.
You only giggle before sitting still again, however, still missing the small sensation that built up inside the pit of your stomach at the feeling of yourself grazing his crotch area while getting comfy. Chris felt it as well and couldn’t help but get.a little turned on by the action either. But when Chris got turned on, you noticed. 
He rested is head on your shoulder and brings his hands to your waist much like before, but this isn’t as comforting as it once was, this was dirtier and needy. You attempted to ignore it as you turned to the screen of the booth that was going to take your photos and were selected the options for you to use. At that moment you could have sworn that you felt Chris lift his lap upwards into you. 
You let out a gasp at the feel of the now prominent bulge that was now present under his dark cargos. Fuck just the graze of it on your thigh was making you wetter at the moment. 
Chris lifted his head slightly from the crook of your neck and turned it as he began to kiss gently kisses below your ear and onto your neck. Fuck. 
“Chris, we can’t do this right now? look where we are” you try to send Chris straight and attempted to use a stretcher voice that however ended as a quiet moan. Your noises only provoked chris more at this point. He didn’t respond to your question but instead planted more open-mouthed kisses onto you. 
You were having a mental battle with yourself at that very moment as you knew if you voiced it, chris would not be much help. You then decided to give in and slowly begun to move your hips onto his crotch. You could feel him growing harder under you from my movements. He decided to grasp your hips firmer and guide then just how he had wanted onto his clothed cock and helping you to move.
What was once slow grinding became quickly paced, you couldn’t help but let out a moan that wasn’t loud enough to be heard by matt or nick but could be heard if you were close enough to the booth. Chris removed one of his hands from your waists and placed it onto your mouth, muffling you and ensuring you don’t make any more erotic sounds. 
He pulled you even closer if that was possible and continued to move up into you at a crazy pace and you could now feel his pulsating dick beneath the fabric of his trousers making your eyes roll into the back of your head. 
“That feel good, ma? You Like humping me when anyone could walk in?” He whispers close into your ear and all you can do is lean your head back onto his shoulder as a muffled whimper had escaped you. 
He continued to rut up into you and a continuous pace and making sure that you felt everything, while sloppily placing open mouth kissed onto your shoulder. The sensation of his clothed dick still hitting your clit was now getting you so worked up that you felt the familiar tightness in you. 
You could feel the knot in your stomach growing tighter as you moved faster and harder on his lap. Again, and again and again. 
“Fuck you’re close already, ma?” he mocks you in your ear in a deep voice that almost send you over the edge. Embarrassment filling your body as you realise that Chris is aware of the power that he has over you. 
You didn’t even realise that Chris had removed the hand that was once in his mouth to play around with the buttons on the machine and before you knew it, the booth was capturing yours and Chris’s pleasure in its old fashioned black and white photographs. 
You began to circle your hip to get just the right pressure onto my clit before i released all over his lap and feeling the knot snap in your stomach as your orgasm washed over you still feeling Chris’s hands still guiding your hips, holding you still very close through your high. Which was captured perfectly on the photo booths camera.
Then you felt his dick twitch against your sensitive clit, which made you let ou a cry while he groaned into my ear. Chris had now taken complete control of your waist, using you to rub himself through his orgasm, which you happily allowed. 
You felt super sensitive due to his fast motions, but it still felt unreal, so you just let him do his thing until he slowed his movements, leaving his hands on your hips while you leaned your head to the side to relax on his shoulder. 
“Fuck, you make me feel so crazy, ma” he turns his head to you giving you a dopey grin ad his eyes are now blown out with lust. 
“I could completely say the same for you, baby” you say before patting down his hair and kissing his lips in a quick passionate kiss. You lean away from each other and hold one another’s gaze while having your foreheads pressed together. You both were very much appreciating the moment until…
“I beg that you clean that seat before any of us sit on it, please,” you hear a disgusted whine coming from nick from further away outside the curtain. 
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A/n: thank so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed if i have made any mistakes please do not hesitate to let me know. I wrote this purely because im obsessed with the booth by Bryant era and i wanted it back… anyway
Love all my angels (especially @gamermattsgf) 💞
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