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#i love this sexy trash so much
ossanana · 2 years
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Klaus Hargreeves, the "spiritual one".
(don't repost on another social media without permission please)
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julykings · 2 years
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new hobby alert went to the hardware store a month ago and got a plastic bucket and little grabby tool and now u CAN’T STOP ME from picking up trash !!! low cost high reward, get to walk around and enjoy the sunshine and make your neighborhood / local trail / environment wherever more beautiful and more appreciated and sometimes people smile at you or say “good for you, wow!” like . what’s not to love.
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hotnhowling · 1 year
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Ardyn not only knows how to please you in bed but exactly how to charm you to his bed in the first place
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Oh yes ~ Suppose I am simply that Charming🌹
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travalerray · 3 months
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it's the WORST when you can't interact with a particular fandom at ALL because they are simply incapable of talking about the plot but WILL talk about your NOTP for hours on end so you just mope about it in silence
#griping and grumbling about fandom as usual#I understand that shipping is like. A huge part of fandom culture#but it's getting on my nerves lmao#and I am going to bitch about it on my personal blog if nowhere else#(another reason I hate the ship is because of the awful power dynamics that are passed off as sexy™ and specific scenes that annoy me to#death. It's just a specific irk of mine. I don't really like ships where there is SUCH a huge power gap and then the narrative is like. But#did you know that the MAN in the higher power position ALSO suffered SO much. Like yes I know it's not the fault of the novels themselves#(they are...passable. Not the best I have read but I like them fine so) because they do engage with the themes somewhat (even if I wish tha#the author did not put the romance element due to fandom pressure. Airplane ass writing in play here. Feeling more and more like Cucumber b#the day) it still feels icky. I am very much for bad meetings turning to love trope but god this is just annoying#I don't know. He is a good character. She is a good character. Everyone is a good character. Romance? Trash. Plot? Lost track#I think the main reason is that it's trying to pull the ''she is not like the other girls because she is not into his looks (lmao) and thus#they are fated'' like I don't want to say it but I really don't like the romance trope of ''they were not like the other girls because they#were the only person who did not want to fuck them. Thus the story can only end when they do would want to fuck them'' like bitch what#it's worse when I see someone hc'ing her as as/pec like.....I wish we could have that#I wish we could have as/pec characters in mainstream media without having to specifically keep typing and filtering for them#it hurts so bad.#it's one of the biggest reasons I can't be bothered to watch the other one#sigh.#is it so bad to want a story where the mc isn't attracted to the creep and remains not attracted to said creep (who also! Isn't! Attracted!#To! Her!)#like yeah yeah there probably is but I have to put effort into searching that up so I am going to complain for a few more seconds and go#back to sleep.#kk's rambles tag
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peterthepark · 2 years
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𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth
summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.
a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.
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It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 
But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.
When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.
That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.
Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 
The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 
Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 
“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”
The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”
“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”
“Disgusting.” 
He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”
And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 
Fuck.
A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 
And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”
Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 
And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 
Fuck me, he thinks.
The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 
“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 
Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 
He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 
Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.
In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”
His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”
You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”
“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”
And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 
He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 
Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.
“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”
“Madonna?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”
Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.
But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”
“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”
His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.
Eddie sees you again. 
And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 
Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 
Summer has never felt so long. 
Again.
Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 
Again, anyways.
You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.
And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.
He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 
You’re completely devastating. 
You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”
Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”
“Why do I even do that?” 
“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”
“You said…”
“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”
You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”
“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”
He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 
“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”
“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”
And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 
You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.
So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 
“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”
Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 
Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”
You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 
“Only because it made me think of you.”
For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”
His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 
“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”
“No girlfriend.” 
“Oh?” 
“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”
“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”
“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”
“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.
Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 
Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.
“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 
“Nope.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”
Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 
Please.
A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.
And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?”
You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 
He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.
And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”
You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 
“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”
“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”
Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”
Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”
“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.
This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 
And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 
Just like heaven.
“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”
He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”
“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”
“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”
“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”
“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”
Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”
Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”
“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”
“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”
Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”
“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”
He’s earned it. 
“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.
Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 
“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”
Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”
“Christ, please.”
And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 
He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.
Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.
He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.
“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”
Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.
You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 
Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.
“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 
“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”
“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”
Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 
You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 
For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.
“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”
You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 
Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.
He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”
“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”
“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby.”
You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.
He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.
You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”
“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”
“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”
“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”
And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.
“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 
You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 
Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”
You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”
“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”
“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”
“Please, s’too hard.”
“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”
“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”
“No.”
You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 
You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  
“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”
You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 
“You’re s-so big.”
Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”
“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”
“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”
“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”
Fucking hell.
You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.
How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 
He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!
He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”
“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”
“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”
“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”
“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”
“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”
“Suits you better.”
You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 
“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”
“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”
I adore you.
I adore you.
You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.
You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 
He’s milked. Spent. 
Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.
It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.
My good boy, you think. 
“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 
“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”
“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”
Oh. It’s a joke. 
And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”
“I’m alive.”
“Barely.”
“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”
“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”
“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”
Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 
“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”
A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.
You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 
He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 
Fucker.
“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”
You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”
“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”
You stare at him like he’s crazy.
“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”
He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.
Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 
Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 
And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 
So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 
God forbid they have coyotes, right? 
But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.
Even though, the album is growing on him.
He’ll never admit that, though.
27K notes · View notes
csainzoperator · 5 months
Text
baby : CL16 ☆
summary: y/n horner has dropped a new single. its a sexy and fun song. but y/n had broken up 4 years ago, and since then there was one superhit album with a sad and shady vibe. new year, new y/n? or new man? let's find out.
(charles leclerc × singer!reader)
trigger warnings: sexual intendos, typos (tried my best to not make any)
face claim: barbara palvin
read more under the cut!
y/nusername has posted!
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hi, lovers. i know its been quite a while since you've heard from me but hey! i'm back and my single "baby" is dropping on friday, 8/12/23. stay tuned for more updates. love you all always, i thank each one of you as i wouldn't be here if it weren't for you guys 💋
liked by taylorswift, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 928,712,821 others
christianhorner proud of you, darling ❤️
- gerihalliwellhorner WE are proud of you (the spice girl inside me is squeaking)
landonorris GO BESTIE
- y/nusername ILY DUMBASS
carlossainz55 all the drivers can't wait for this! (we all are disgusted on the inside)
- y/nusername 🤭🤭
- estiebestieee GIRL WHAT DOES THAT MEAN
- y/nloverrr stop....DOES THAT MEAN THE DRIVERS HAVE HEARD THE SONG ALREADY
- pierregasly 🤐
y/nfann YOU LOOK SO PRETTY
paddockclubb y'all wondering if the drivers have heard the song when i'm out here questioning reality cos CHARLES LECLERC HAS LIKED THIS POST.
it was the end of season lunch and you were kind of nervous as you would finally be telling your parents about charles and you. your friends were thrilled but you just didn't know how your father would react.
the heavenly creatures and godly people had given you a blessing. BECAUSE NO WAY IN HELL YOUR FATHER KNEW ABOUT IT ALL ALONG?
"you aren't letting him in on any red bull secrets now, are you?" your father questioned you. and you replied right back, with mock seriousness. "you mean have i told him how max cuddles his cats and how checo never stops talking about mexican food? yes dad i've kept that a secret." your boyfriend lets out a chuckle as you finish your sentence, squeezing your thigh below the table.
"aww maxie you're a softie at heart" lando teases him as max glares at you playfully. the brunch was a success and you just couldn't wait to get back to the hotel with charles because, oh dear lord. he looked absolutely ravishing. divine. sublime even. and he knew what was on your mind, the way his hands kept brushing yours, his soft kisses when no one was looking. you felt it all.
y/nusername has posted!
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fancy hotel but this is how we showed up 🤞🏼 liked by christianhorner, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 99,827 others.
landonorris oooh who's that hot man
- y/nusername carlossainz55 come get your child
- carlossainz55 my apologies
- carlaaaando EXACTLY WHO IS THAT MAN
charles_leclerc 🌟
y/nusername has liked this comment
- f1wags WTF ARE Y'ALL SEEING THIS.
- estiebestiee if y/n and charles are a thing. I'M NOT READY FOR THIS 🖐🏼
y/nloverr OK BUT THE UPGRADE THO. from that trash guy 4 years ago to charles mfkin leclerc 🙏🏼
it was the big day. your single was about to drop today and your boyfriend was lying down on your lap, telling you how he would LOVE to tell the world that the song was about him. you agreed, it was about him. he slowly got up and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting his hands slip under your shirt.
"aren't we getting cheeky now, mr leclerc?" you teased. "oh we are just getting started, baby" he mumbles as he kisses down your neck. and just like that, he made your big day much more special by his, let's say, needy touches.
y/nusername has posted!
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"baby" out now on all platforms! enjoy streaming. sending kisses 💋 liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lewishamilton and 288,718,123 others.
y/nfannn "baby, baby, do i taste like candy, sugarcoated he says i'm the most sweet" UM GUYS????? I'M NOT OK 🖐🏼
landonorris great song ig 🙄
- y/nusername oh cmon we all know you love it
lewishamilton great job, sis. got a sick beat 🖤
y/nusername has liked this comment
f1wags GUYS. I'M 100% SURE THAT'S CHARLES' BACK.
- carlandooo RAH STOP I'M WEAK IN MY KNEES RN
y/nloverrr "i'm a handful but, that's what hands are for. pin me to the floor, treat it like its yours" SCREAMING YELLING KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR GN. she ate that up 🙏🏼
charles_leclerc 🤭
charles_leclerc has posted!
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"baby" is ab me. y'all can cry now 🤭 liked by y/nusername, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 287,112,123 others.
y/nusername i love you, baby.
- charles_leclerc NAH. i love you more.
- y/nusername shut up, i will kill every person who says against me, i love you more.
- charles_leclerc wow look at you making me all scared AND getting me horny at the same time.
landonorris UM. I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT.
pierregasly THERE ARE KIDS ON THIS APP.
maxverstappen1 why y'all acting like we didn't know since ages. anyways. *pretends to be shook* CONGRATS GUYS!
y/nleclercfan PARENTS 🤞🏼
lechairrr y/n basically told us how good charles is in bed by her song 😭
f1wags HAH. I KNEW IT. I SAW IT COMING BUT I'M STILL SO SHOOK RN?????
scuderiaferrari red looks good on you guys ❤️
the end ♡
2K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 1 year
Note
Headcanons about Ghost and condoms?
This made me laugh, I don't know why. Condoms are no joke.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, condoms, blowjob, cum swallowing, pinned against the wall, doggystyle, cock riding, spanking, rough dom!Simon
A/N: This should go without saying but please use protection and practice safe sex!
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Simon is not a fan of them at all
Sure he understands why they're important, he doesn't want you to get pregnant when you two aren't ready to be parents either but he can't resist the feeling of your pussy wrapped warm and tight around his cock
Both of you have check-ups to make sure you're clean of course
And you, it's so much better to feel his cock, hot and hard and pulsing against your fluttering walls than feeling rubber
The only time he will use an condom is if the two of you are really, really horny and he knows he won't be able to stop himself from wanting to breed your pretty cunt
Usually he has pretty good self control and even if he does end up finishing inside of you you're quick to take the morning after pill
However there are times, like when you visit him at the base, that you don't have enough and he has to wrap it up
Now if that does happen there's no way he's stopping after using just one condom, nor will he throw them into the trash right away
For some reason he likes keeping score of how many he's filled up
All of those are times he could have filled you up with his cum instead
It's such a shame too because you look insanely sexy when you straddle his lap to ride him and all that cum drips onto his big cock and balls before you start riding his cock for more
When he's fucking his cock into you from behind he loves seeing your ass in the air, red from his hand delivering playful slaps, invitations for you to fuck yourself on his cock like it's a toy
He has no problem with you riding him all night long if you'd like, just remember to let him pull out, either that or he can always just lift you up and paint your tits white instead
Can't help the noises that escape him when you lean up his dick afterwards, it only makes him want to cum again just so you can do it all over again
6K notes · View notes
somevagrantchild · 5 months
Text
Missing Loustat scene discovered in Anne Rice's diaries
I HAVE SOMETHING AMAZING TO SHARE WITH YOU!!
As I was reading Anne Rice's diaries in the special collection library at Tulane University while I was in New Orleans for the Vampire Ball, I discovered this intensely sexy scene she wrote between Louis and Lestat that never made it into her books. This is Anne Rice's original writing, never before shared anywhere online.
Anne Rice wrote this scene by hand in her diary dated November 6, 2015 (which she mentions is the day before Stan's birthday. He would have been 73😭). I have deduced that it is her very first (and very rough) draft of the scene that eventually became chapter 4 in Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis, aka the scene where Louis agrees to move into the chateau and be Lestat's partner/companion again. The final version of the scene in the book reads like wedding vows, serving as the beginning of their marriage in the modern era. As you'll see, the first draft was rather different. 
In Prince Lestat, Louis and Lestat's interactions are extremely brief, and they aren't able to talk beyond one stolen moment to reassure each other of their love. It would seem that in the six months between the end of Prince Lestat (when Louis thinks to himself that he will be with Lestat very soon), and the beginning of Atlantis (when that finally ends up happening), Louis and Lestat do not have any intimate conversation. They may have talked somewhat, but only briefly about superficial matters, or they may have not even spoken to each other once over those six months until Lestat asks Louis to meet him in New Orleans for chapter 4.
In an earlier diary entry, I found a note where Anne said she wanted their first reunion conversation to begin by finally addressing Louis dumping Lestat's body in the swamp after Claudia tried to kill him—something they have never once discussed. So when I came across this scene in a later diary, I could tell it was a direct follow-through on that idea. 
The scene begins with Lestat speaking to Louis, and it seems they are outside on the streets of New Orleans, but someplace private where they aren't being observed by mortals. This is different from the final book version with them sitting at a sticky table at the Café Du Monde (though it is similar to how Lestat tells us they walked around the city streets together for hours after the reunion scene was over). 
Anne headed this part of the diary entry with: Early on: L+L quarrel—
“I can forgive her for what she did. She was never a human being. She went from being an infant to a monster. But you—you stood there and watched. You carried my body into the swamps and dumped me there as if I were trash—you were the one I hated! How could you do that to me? Decades we’d been together!”
He stared at me for the longest time—not defensive, not angry.
“I could do it because I was afraid,” he said. “I didn’t know how I was going to live without you.”
“I don’t believe you. You were fine without me. You were preparing to sail to Europe. You were making plans.”
A torrent of words.
“Stop!” he said. “I’m here now. I love you! I thought you wanted me here! I thought you’d forgiven me. I thought we had a second chance, now, you and I. And miles to travel together!”
I nodded.
“A second chance!”
I nodded.
Then I took hold of him as if I was going to kill him. I threw him up against the wall and bit into his neck for the first time in two hundred years—the first time since the first time—and when the blood gushed into my mouth, I saw again—for the first time in two hundred years—his soul, his heart.
I was lost in his mind, his thoughts, his dreams, flashes…
I drew back—I’d drunk too much. He was being held there by me, his head bowed. I slapped him hard and when he opened his eyes, I pushed his open mouth against my neck. I forced his fangs into me.
And we were together, wrapped in one another’s arms…
Finally I pushed him back.
He was sitting on the paving stones, hair in his face, back to the wall. I took his hand and helped him up.
“Kiss me,” I said. “No, really kiss me.”
Finally I let him go.
“I can’t live without you! “ he said. “I swear, you wander off on me again, I…”
“I won’t. I won’t ever.”
We walked along in silence.
“He loves you too,” he said.
“Who?”
“The silent one, the one who’s never spoken to me, the one inside you.”
It was time. I could have lingered a half hour more in the old times, but the time was now.
The End 
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Above is the clean version, which I have corrected for missing punctuation, missing letters/words, and necessary dialogue tags.
Below is the original rough version as I have transcribed exactly from Anne Rice's handwritten diary.
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“I can forgive her for what she did. She was never a human being. She went from being an infant to a monster. But you—you stood there & watched. You carried my body in the swamps & dumped me there as if I were trash—you were the one I hated! How could you do that to me? Decades we’d been together!
He stared at me for the longest time—not defensive, not angry.
I could do it because I was afraid, he said. “I didn’t know how I was going to live without you.”
“I don’t believe. You were fine without me. You were preparing to sail to Europe. You were making plans.”
—A torrent of words.
“Stop! I’m here now. I love you! I thought you ’d wanted me here! I thought you’d forgive me. I thought we had a second chance, now, you & I. And miles to travel together!”
I nodded—
“A second chance!”
I nodded—
Then I took hold of him as if I was going to kill him. I threw him up against the wall & bit into his neck for the first time in 200 years—the first time since the first time—and when the blood gushed into my mouth I saw again—for the first time in 200 years—his soul, his heart—
I was lost in his mind, his thoughts, his dreams, flashes — (more)
I drew back—I’d drunk too much He was being held there by me, his head bowed. I slapped him hard & when he opened his eyes I pushed his open mouth against my neck. I forced his fangs into me.
And we were together, wrapped in one another arms — (more)
Finally I pushed him back.
He was sitting on the paving stones, hair in his face, back to the wall. I took his hand & helped him up.
Kiss me. No really kiss me.
Finally I let him go.
I can’t live without you! I swear, you wander off on me again, I … I ”
“I won’t. I won’t ever.”
We walked along in silence —
He loves you too
Who
The silent one, the one who’s never spoken to me, the one inside you.
It was time. I could have linger a half hour more in the old times, but was now —
The End 
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The spots where she wrote (more) are clearly areas where she intended to expound upon all Lestat was seeing and feeling in Louis's mind, soul, and blood, and then what he felt and saw as Louis was drinking from him. How I wish we could know what she would have written there! Also the lines that start or end with a — make me wonder if she intended to add more to those bits as well. Would she have actually written out Lestat's torrent of words?
Lestat's line "Kiss me. No really kiss me." isn't in quotation marks in Anne's diary. I chose to add them, because there were many other obviously spoken-aloud dialogue lines also without quotes. But it is possible that Lestat only thinks these words as he and Louis are kissing each other. It reminds me of in Queen of the Damned, when Daniel thinks, "I like kissing. And suggling with dead things, yes, hold me." The narration doesn't tell us Armand actually starts holding him, but Anne's style of using internal monologue makes it clear that's what happens in the action. So the "Kiss me." could be similar in this instance as well. And in that case it might mean Louis is the one who initiates the kiss, and this is Lestat’s internal “yes, yes!!” reaction to it. But I do suspect he is actually meant to be saying it aloud.
With the em dash at the end of it, the very last line could have been meant to continue: "but was now ______" was now...something. But considering she wrote "The End" after it, it seems like it was meant to be a final statement, so that is why I added the missing words I chose in my edited clean version.
Although this conversation is very different from the one we get in the final version of Atlantis, I do still see elements of it in the book's scene:
Louis's line "I can’t live without you! I swear, you wander off on me again, I …" became "so I'll come. And when you tire of me and want me gone, I'll hate you of course."
They still kiss, really kiss. In the book, it is moved to before their conversation, when Lestat first sees Louis in their Rue Royal flat, wearing the new clothes he ordered for him and Louis says, "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" and Lestat is so shocked, he's unable to respond.
They do still discuss Amel in the book version, in much more depth than he is mentioned here. Louis having never heard Amel's voice in his own head remains consistent. 
They do still go walking around the streets of the Garden District, though it happens after the conversation, not during it. Lestat does say they talked for hours during that walk, but about Amel and what's been happening to Lestat as Prince. Not about themselves or their past. 
MY THOUGHTS!
The confirmation here that Lestat never tasted Louis's blood before their new marriage begins in Atlantis is one of the most amazing parts to me, when combined with the offhand way that Lestat mentions what Louis's vampire blood tastes like in Blood Communion. Even though the final version of Atlantis never shows us Lestat drinking Louis's blood (either forcefully like this scene, or consensually in other ways), the mention in Blood Communion does confirm that it DOES happen off the page at some point during the years between Atlantis chapter 4 and the beginning of Blood Communion. 
We know that Louis drank much of Lestat's blood at the end of Merrick, and this was his first time doing it because we were told in previous books how much he resisted his powers being increased by drinking ANY other vampire's blood. It is nice to have it confirmed that Lestat never bit Louis or drank any of his blood in return either before or after Merrick. But now, after Lestat becomes Prince, this is now a new element to their relationship. It makes me consider more strongly that Anne perhaps meant to imply that they then for the first time began to engage in blood sharing the same romantic way Lestat did with Akasha in Queen of the Damned, and then in the even more explicit way she shows us with Rhoshamandes and Benedict in Prince Lestat. 
I don't take all Anne wrote in her diaries as canon. It is clear that much of what she wrote there were spitball ideas that she later chose to absolutely reject (as opposed to deciding they were true but she just didn't mention them in the books). But I do not see anything in this scene that the final versions of the books contradict. So even though this scene didn't actually happen in canon, we can believe that the feelings and emotions that drive this scene are still canon. And I love that for us 🥰
I have cross-posted this on ao3 to give us a good place to talk back and forth to each other about it in the comments section there. Reblog and reply to this post as much as you like, but if you want to have some conversations and share your own thoughts on what she wrote, ao3 will give us a much more organized place to do it, where other people will be able to easily find and read your meta as well.
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suiana · 10 months
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✎ yandere! dilf headcanons . . .
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✎ warnings . . .
― obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulation(?), mentions of violence, implicated stalking and stealing, legal age gap, breeding kink 💀, etc.
(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)
✎ yandere! dilf who hired you as his son's tutor. he's just so worried that his darling son won't be able to keep up with school :( as a result you were hired to tutor him :D he actually doesn't know how you look like yet, but guessing from your profile picture you're a granny..?
✎ yandere! dilf who couldn't help but be enamoured with you the second you stepped inside his house. wait why were you so cute? didn't he hire an old- huh?! oh that was a picture of your grandma... oh well, he shouldn't have guessed. how else is he supposed to calm his boner now?
✎ yandere! dilf who's watering at your innocence. oh you're such a sweet thing! bright eyes sparkling with the desire to teach his son! your future son! he's so glad he's divorced... he's dead set on making you his beloved little thing. and you can't do anything to change it~!
✎ yandere! dilf who falls for you more and more with each tuition session. oh you just look so adorable! and that outfit you wore last session! it was so cute! he really had a hard time holding himself back you know? he's imagining tearing apart your outfit while marking you up now-!
✎ yandere! dilf who is older than you. I mean, he literally has a 15 year old son so it would be expected that he's old. but... he's still handsome! so you can consider him... right? oh please give him a chance! he'd hate to have to break you down completely :( yes he's that in love with you to the point where he won't mind breaking you down and rebuilding you to how he wants you to be ♡
✎ yandere! dilf who's extremely flirty and embraces his dilf-ness. rolling up his sleeves to expose his veiny forearms, unbuttoning his top two buttons to expose his defined chest, subtly flirting with you every time he sees you... just two tuition sessions ago he stood so close to you to the point where you could smell his cologne and see his man boobs?! you had to spend that entire tuition session clenching your fists just to focus. oh those sexy man boobs! his cleavage ! why is his body so sexy?! don't worry, if you wanted to touch he'll be more than happy to let you feel him up :)
✎ yandere! dilf who can't stop thinking about bashing in the heads of anyone who's glanced in you. no one should be taking in your divine self except for him and his son. those trash can't worship and love you like he does. hm... maybe he should just kidnap you? keep you all to himself. yeah, that sounds like a good plan.
✎ yandere! dilf who has a little shrine dedicated to you in his study. aw, how cute! it's just a small picture of you and a flower- wait is that your missing underwear? and is that your lost diary?! why's your entire schedule noted down with lots of hearts scribbled on it?! how'd he- there's no way he stalked you... right?
✎ yandere! dilf who gets his son to talk to you about how he's so lonely and wants another parent desperately... you're smart so you'll get what he means, won't you? after all, can you resist those watery eyes and the slight sniffling his son is doing? and he's sure you don't have any other tutees due to how much he's paying you already... so it's alright to be his, no?
✎ yandere! dilf who wants to breed you. it doesn't matter whether or not you can actually have children, he'll still want to breed you. imagining you round and full with his children... it just turns him on oh so much.
✎ yandere! dilf who really wouldn't mind a new addition to his family. I mean, for the past... 11 years it's only been him and his son :( and he finds it so lonely in his big mansion without anyone to accompany him... you understand what he's saying right? don't worry, you'll never have to lift a finger again should you accept his offer. he's rich after all :)
✎ "hn? oh my son did good, huh? should I reward you for being an amazing tutor? I know just how to thank you after all..."
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saerayofsunshine · 6 months
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Tease me, baby
Summary: Gojo Satoru could be a complete tease, outside the bedroom and inside the bedroom. Sometimes, you played along with his antics, because why not? The reward would be sweet, or so he promised. But sometimes, it was just too much, leaving you hanging on the bridge of madness, leaving you with nothing but a flame of desire within you, a flame that only he could put out. Relationship: Gojo Satoru/Reader Rating: E Words: 2.6K Content Warning: consensual sex, edging, unprotected sex (don't be silly, protect the willie), breeding, orgasm denial (?), pet names (babygirl, baby, darling), fingering, etc. (let me know if I forgot something). Note: This is my first time writing smut, but I've caught up to the manga and man, I just had to do something with myself. This is pure porn with no plot at all, so ehe. Hopefully I haven't missed any typos or grammar. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated! On the other hand, writing this has been an experience because how the fuck do write people long smut? How do they put words together and make it sexy at the same time? Like damn.
cross-posted on ao3
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You had heard of the name Gojo Satoru way before the start of high school. How could you not? Every sorcerer had heard of that name at least once: the wielder of six eyes, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, the honored one... his name brought a sense of dread to his enemies while awakening feelings of admiration within his comrades.
You had heard plenty of him but didn't encounter him until the start of jujutsu high, where you had the unfortunate (or fortunate?) chance of being his precious kohai.
Up to that point, you had heard about how playful, annoying, and teasing Gojo Satoru could be, but it was only after meeting him that you realized how much of a playful, annoying, and teasing bastard he could really be.
It had all started in high school. You hadn't questioned his antics during that time, simply letting him touch you whenever the opportunity called for it. Whether that be a slight brush of your hands as you passed something to him, or him brushing something across your shoulders, afterwards playing with your hair as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Remembering such memories never failed to bring a smile onto your face.
Gojo Satoru had always been a tease, during his youth and his adolescence. Normally, you played along his little games, more than eager to tease him back and make him crack.
What had started with innocent touches during your youth had turned into seducing prods, demanding more, wanting more, seeking more out of your body. You were all too eager to deliver, but sometimes, sometimes, even you couldn’t keep up with his enthusiasm.
You loved the feel of his large hands groping your tits, squeezing, pulling, brushing against your hard nipples, before teasing them with that wicked tongue of his; loved to feel his digits on your clit, gently caressing and petting the little bud nonstop, as if he wasn’t preparing to make you scream afterwards. With a soft growl of his, he would reassure you every time you cried out for him, desperately asking him to just put it in, please, and you loved it even more when he delivered, his long fingers finally sliding home within your pussy, fingering the shit out of you and granting you that sweet release you had been longing from him.
You loved him and his little game of teasing, but sometimes, you hated him for this exact reason.
You hated him for making you crave him so much, for putting you through hell, just to get a taste of his fingers, his mouth, his cock. Anything he was willing to give, you would gladly accept.
It didn’t matter whether it was his fingers, his mouth or his cock, he would patiently wait, he would listen, as if you weren’t trashing within his hold, moaning, practically crying his name with every breath. “Satoru, ah, Satoru… please.”
Satoru was too good at ignoring his own desire, his cock practically leaking, begging to be touched, but he wouldn’t have it. Without you saying the words, at least. He adored the expression on your face whenever you felt desperate, the breathless sighs leaving your parted lips, along your twitching thighs that rose into his hand, sucking and clenching around his fingers, and the filthy sound your cunt made with every push and pull… it was all too addicting.
Even if he tried, Satoru couldn’t, wouldn’t stop, no matter how much you begged for mercy.
“Relax, I got you,” he murmured, leaning over your sweaty body, kissing you on the lips, effectively cutting of the moans. Their tongue danced around each other, moaning against each other’s mouth as Satoru massaged your right tit as his other hand maintained a fast pace within your poor cunt, feeling it twitch with every push and pull, brushing against that spot that had you gush against his digits. Desperate for more, you ache more into his palm, in hopes of him acknowledging your neglected clit.
Though, you knew that he wouldn’t show you any mercy, that bastard. The pleasure was just too much.
Sometimes, he was too much for you.
You wouldn't have it any other way.
Kissing your red cheeks and trailing kisses across your neck, Satoru kept the fast pace of his fingers, curling his fingers slightly up, brushing against that spongy spot once again, leaving you a moaning, twitching mess beneath him.
Hands grasping his hair, you held on tightly as he left soft pecks across your neck and shoulder blades.
“Ssh, it’s okay babygirl.” He chuckled at the whine that escaped you when he pulled his fingers out, switching his attention to the swollen bud, gently petting your clit before slapping it, before gently petting it once again. He stuffed you full of his fingers once again, continuing his fast pace within you. “Just take it like this. I know you can.”
Cocky little bastard. How can he be this collected when you felt his cock twitch against your thigh whenever you grinded on him? It was hard, tip swollen an angry red and leaking precum from all the grinding, but here he was, acting as if this wasn’t affecting him in the slightest, as if he wasn’t yearning to be inside you.
A long sigh left your lips as you clenched on his fingers that were assaulting your drenched pussy, blushing at the wet sounds it created. It would have been embarrassing any other day, the way you were soaking his palm, but today, you couldn’t care any less.
“Fuck… please, please give it to me.”
He growled underneath his breath, a crazed look on his face, smirking as he witnessed you desperately trashing within his hold. “Just tell me what you want, and I will give it to you,” he promised, placing loving kisses against your reddened cheeks. “You just have to say what you want, darling. Use your words. You can do that much, right? I haven’t fucked you dumb, right?” He asked, slowly pulling his fingers out to gently massage your clit, slapping it occasionally, chuckling as moans left your mouth. “What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want, I’m not a mind reader, baby.”
“Satoru…” you drawled out, meeting each other’s gaze. Satoru didn’t look away from you, daring you to back out, to not voice out your wants. You bit your lip, the uncomfortable ache within you making it unable to stand still. “Please, make me come. I want to come so badly. Please.”
That was all he needed to hear. If there was something that Satoru loved, it was you desperately begging him to make you come. He was sure, this feeling would never leave him; there would never be a day where Satoru didn’t want to hear you cry out of pleasure, begging for him.
You were his needy little girl, all spread open, wet, twitching and ready just for him.
Satoru loved to see you desperate, desperate for a kiss, desperate for his fingers, desperate for his cock.
He loved teasing you, making you beg, wrecking you, before starting the process all over again.
"There you go. Was that so hard to admit?" His cockiness and the smug smile on his face would have annoyed you any other day, but today, you let it slide, focusing on the way he played with your clit, prepping you up for what was about to come. "You know I will give it to you. All you have do is be a good girl and ask."
Placing a hand on your stomach, Satoru began his unforgiving assault with his other hand, and fuck, if it wasn’t what you needed. His fingers expertly bully your cunt, pulling and pushing, brushing over your sensitive spots within you, and you trashed, and trashed, and trashed. His hand on your stomach held you down, and you could do nothing but shake like a leaf underneath his demonstrations.
He leaned over you body when you grasped his shoulder, scratching his back as you bucked against his hand, and fuck, was it fucking hot. Quiet murmurs of his name and repeated, dragged ‘yes’ were the only thing that left your lips, encouraging Satoru to give you more, more and more.
“C’mon baby, you’re close, aren’t you?” Tugging at your aching bud, he massaged it quickly, up and down, left and right, before repeating the process, bright eyes never leaving your teary gaze. “Come on my fingers, baby. Give it to me.”
“Fuck-Satoru… I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!”
You felt as if you were spiraling, finally having found the exit of a labyrinth. You could practically feel the edge, just a little more, and you were sure you would tip over.
That would be the case, if it wasn’t for Satoru pulling out of your pussy after hearing those words, grasping your thighs as you struggled against hold, having been left an empty, unsatisfied, and twitching mess.
"You piece of fucking shi-"
His lips met yours, interrupting the string of profanities, smiling against your mouth and grinding his hips against yours, cock laying heavy against your pussy, its wetness spreading across his length. “I’m sorry, baby. Need you to come on my cock instead, missed you so damn much,” he growled, adjusting himself between your spread legs, his knees placed against your tights, gazing at the sinful treasure presented in front of him.
Messy hair, swollen and puffy lips due to all the kissing, sweat covering every inch of your body, it was a view to behold, and it was all his to defile.
Adjusting himself so that the tip of his length grazed your sensitive clit, he teased you by tracing his tip over your bud and netherlips, brushing back and forth, occasionally tapping the swollen button, ignoring and shushing the little whines that escaped you. “Hold on tight, baby. You not going anywhere without coming on my cock.”
You had plenty of sex with Satoru, he was practically insatiable. Though, no matter how many times you had intercourse, it never lost its magic, each time different than the other, but always leaving you satisfied, sated, and with a delicious ache between your legs.  
Even now, prepped and dripping, he was big enough to make you breath hitch as he pressed into you inch by inch, gauging your reaction, observing whether it was okay to continue. You both groaned as his cock slid home, feeling him twitch inside you, deliciously dragging his length within your cunt.
You bit your lip. He filled you up too good, and you could do nothing but tighten around him.
Satoru’s thumb brushed against your lower lip, releasing it from your bite before lovingly caressing your face. You would have thought the gesture as romantic and sweet, if it weren’t for the fact that he was balls deep and rock hard within you. Stroking your chest, playing with your nipples, he playfully swirled his hips against yours, smirking as you rotated your own hips as well, before settling his hands on your waits, experimentally thrusting his cock into you.
"Don't try to stifle your moans. I want to hear you scream my name."
Satoru knew how to work his fingers against you, inside you; whether to be slow, teasing you with the barest of touches or firm, so that his digits could prod just the right places that had you groaning, and he definitely knew how to work his hips against your own, fervently pounding himself inside without abandon, clutching onto your waist, as if it was the only thing grounding him down to earth, and you could do nothing but cry out and take it, take it, take it.
Satoru was a beautiful man, always has been, but at that moment, above and inside you, he looked ethereal. With his white hair tousled, covering his beautiful eyes, gazing down at you, admiring the way your pussy clenched onto him as he repeatedly pounded in you, you were reminded of a starved beast, a predator ready to devour his little prey that laid baren in front of him.
You wouldn't have it any other way.
"You like that, baby?" He punctuated his words with a swirl of his hips that had you moaning loudly, his cock dragging across your walls beautifully, scratching that itch within you. "You look so fucking hot," he growled, before thrusting hard, admiring the way your breast bounce with every thrust. "You gonna make me come so hard, you would like that, wouldn't you? Want me to come inside you, fill up your empty pussy, baby?"
You bite your lip, gripping his wrist desperately, clenching and unclenching uncontrollably as his assault continued, anchoring yourself against his hand. Just the image of him coming inside you had you frenzied, so much so that you could only moan out loudly, holding onto him:
"Yes, fuck, please, yes. I want it so bad. Please, come inside of me, Satoru!"
Groaning at those words, he pounded away into you, and with every drag, you tightened around him, feeling him twitch, feeling as if you were ready to burst, but desperately trying to hold back your fast approaching orgasm. He was so close, you could feel it, and you wanted to feel him become undone within you, with you, filling your pussy up as you finally let go. Clutching his haunches, you rhythmically met his thrust, wordlessly encouraging him to fuck you faster, harder.
Gradually, his controlled thrusts turned sloppy, a telltale sign of his approaching orgasm. You grasped his shoulder, making him bent down so that you could mutter against his lips ‘Come with me, Satoru,’ before kissing him, tongues dancing and hips bucking wildly against each other as you hold onto him tightly.
Satoru knew how to wind you up, whether that be with his teasing antics or without, but the outcome always had you reeling, spasming mess against him, desperate to catch your breath as you finally let go of the tight coil within you. Satoru, on the other hand, wouldn’t let up, fucking you through your orgasm as he too finally tipped over the edge, groaning uncontrollably and grinding against your clit, fucking his load into you. The feeling of it had you smiling against his mouth, content and sated for the time being, and you absentmindedly massaged his neck, tugging at his hair as Satoru finished within you, thrusting slowly against you for the last time before stilling within you.
Without a hurry in the world, he kissed you, gently and sweetly, trailing pecks all over your cheeks and jaw, before ultimately placing a short peck on your lips once last time.
And with that, he straightened his posture, slowly pulling out of you with a breathless sigh, smirking in perverse satisfaction as cum drippled down your slit. The view had him throbbing uncomfortably. Therefore, he nudged your sensitive clit with his cock, toying with it, all the while ignoring the high-pitched whines of protest, leisurely smearing your wetness across your inner thighs, before carefully sliding his tip into you once again, groaning as he did so.
You haven't known how much of a tease Gojo Satoru could be, but with time, you had learned that his playful nature was, in fact, very much present during bedroom activities. You could say that you hated him for it, but the promise of sweet release after an endless amount of teasing always had you aroused, and Satoru was someone who kept his promise.
And till now, he always made good of his promises, so that at the end of the day, you let him have his victory price.
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l1tw1ck · 9 months
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A Stardew Valley Affair
bottom!ftm Kent x top!masc reader
☆ Word Count: 930 ☆
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[REQUEST] | AFAB Language Used
CW: Cheating, Caught Masturbating, Squirting, Cunnilingus, Creampie
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You’ve been married to Sam for almost a year and you're already starting to become unfaithful. You feel like a bag of trash for it, especially because the reason for your unfaithfulness is his own father. You didn't see him as a romantic interest for a while but he started to look more desirable as time went on. You couldn't put your finger on it but you started thinking about him in ways that you shouldn't.
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Jodi paid you to stop by and drop off some vegetables. Since you have the key, she didn't stick around and wait for you. You assumed you were going to be the only one there.
You place down a fresh bag of veggies and turn to leave but you stop. You swear you just heard something from Jodi and Kent’s bedroom. You creep over to the door to prevent whatever's or whoever's inside from possibly running off. You press your ear against the wood and listen.
“Mm- fuck-” Kent moans, jerking his t-dick while he thinks about you and your muscles. “I'm close, [Name]~”
You feel yourself growing hard from hearing that. You open up the door and look at him and his wet sex. He stops immediately, eyes widening when he sees you.
“Need any help?” You smirk. Kent nods quickly. You lock the door behind you and quickly remove all your clothing before climbing onto the bed. Kent looks up at you then down to your length. You're big. Bigger than anything he’s ever taken. “Do you have any condoms?” You ask.
Kent looks at you like you’ve asked a stupid question. “No need.” He shakes his head, pulling you onto the bed. He hovers over your length before sinking down onto your cock. He bites his lip, feeling a little bit of pain as you stretch him out. It's a good kind of pain though. “You can come inside.” He’s too sexy to question.
“So you've been thinking about me.” You smirk.
“I've been doing more than that.” He grinds down onto you. “I've wanted you ever since I came back to the valley.”
“Today’s your big day then.”
He grins, pulling off his shirt, revealing the piercings on his nipples. “Sure is.” He holds onto your shoulders for balance and starts to bounce on your length. He bites his lip, pure pleasure painted on his face as he rides you. He notices your fixation on his nipples and brings his hands to them, playing with them to tease you. His increased moans tell you that his nipples are sensitive. He knows this is bad, considering the fact that you're married to his son, but oh Yoba, he loves this.
“Fuck–” He lets out a sharp breath. “I can't- ‘s too much-” He slows down.
“Let me help you out.” You grab his sides and bring him onto the bed. You position him on his side and bring his leg up against you and start fucking him roughly. “You feel so fucking good.” You rub his clit. Curses slip out of Kent’s mouth as you bring him closer and closer to his orgasm. He rolls his eyes back and squirts. You slow down and let him recover.
“I haven't done that in years..”
“Years? I think we should make up for that.” You smirk.
“Not all at once, okay?” He laughs.
“How about…two more times?”
“You can try.”
“I’m up for the challenge.” You pull out of him and flip him onto his stomach. You raise his ass in the air and bury your face in his cunt. You lick a few stripes up his pussy, tasting him, before sticking your tongue inside him. He bites down on his lip, shivering as your tongue explores his insides. He hasn't gotten ate out in so long. He can't even remember the last person who did. He wishes he got with you instead, you would've been happy to regularly eat his pussy. If only he didn't go to the military. You slide your fingers up and down his t-dick, stimulating him even more. His toes curl as he starts to get towards his second orgasm. He moans your name and squirts once again, drenching your face in his liquids.
You pull away and wipe your face. “Do you need time to calm down?” You look at his twitching cunt in awe.
“I need to, but I don't want to.” He turns to look at you. “Put it back in.”
“Your wish is my command.” You slide back into him, his pussy ten times wetter than the first time you were in it. You hold his waist and pound into him at a fast pace. He's so sensitive, it feels like he's gonna explode. It's so much all at once and he fucking loves it.
“Harder!” He cries out. You do as he says, pulling more moans from him. The two of you should be feeling guilty for numerous reasons, the biggest being that you're both married, but neither of you care. You're thoroughly enjoying the warmth and wetness of his pussy and nothing can make you feel bad about it.
“‘M gonna come soon-” Your thrusts become more rough.
“Inside! Do it inside!”
“Shit- Are you sure?”
“Yes!"
Kent comes before you, slick gushing on your cock. Just feeling that brings you to your orgasm. Your thrusts eventually come to a halt and you finally fill him up with your cum.
This just brought on a ton of complications. You’ll have to choose between Kent and Sam. Things are gonna get messy.
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bas-writes · 6 months
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Kings Don't Fall in Love
Character: Donquixote Doflamingo Reader: female (should be trans inclusive but I haven't proof-read it from this pov, so proceed at own risk) CW: intimacy starved Doffy, non-descriptive mentions of sex, pressure put on scent, emotional isolation, Doffy's pov Word Count: 1.1k Synopsis: You leave a piece of clothing after a night spent together at Doflamingo's place. Something unexpected happens when he takes a closer look at it. A/N: I listen too much to Cigarettes After Sex and it shows... Anyway, a little gift to @opopnomi for which I hope she won't kill me LMAO Hope it made your day at least a little better :3
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It's just your overnight t-shirt.
Doflamingo almost misses it among the clutter thrown all over his bedroom. It's just a single piece of clothing, but a little snip of fabric in comparison to his own stuff all around. You're so little next to him, from heads to toes, and especially your hands he likes to hold in his as he teases you for your embarrassment in face of the size difference. Everything about you is so little and endearing, and he can't help a little smirk at the thought of your eyes perked up at him.
They always look doe and pleading from this angle. And he loves it.
It's just your overnight t-shirt. A thing you wear only in the privacy of your room, not here, in the kingdom of lingerie, kink apparel, and all of his whims at the given moment. He got to know it only because you were wearing it when he dragged you out of your house and kidnapped you to his territory. 
Doflamingo can't even remember now how you looked in it as all he cared about was to free you out of it, to feel your bare breasts in his hands. He picks it up, its weight barely palpable, and frowns, trying to recreate the image in his head, and failing. He doesn't cry over it, the thing is not sexy; it's just a t-shirt, stretched over your size, its colors worn-out, chosen to be cozy, not presentable. It's somewhat yours through and through and alien for his eyes. It suits you like your own skin and disturbs the image of yours in his mind. It's so out of place, time and imagination that he can't peel his eyes off it.
The king's attention can last only as much, though, and he's already putting it away—to send you back or throw it into trash, he's not decided yet—when an impulse strikes his curiosity. Doflamingo doesn't think much of it when he brings the t-shirt closer. It's just a whim, a spur of a second, who would have paid attention to reasoning behind something so meaningless? 
When it touches his cheek, he nearly understands why you like to sleep in it. It's soft—and not only for a piece of clothing. The sensation is pleasant, almost having him craving for more, especially against the freshly shaved, irritated skin. It carries a weirdly nostalgic feel to that, like a warm hand cupping his face. He can't pinpoint what pulls him to do that, but he follows and nuzzles into the fabric, with hesitation at first, soon with eagerness that shocks him—but doesn't stop him regardless. 
Your smell is…stronger.
Doflamingo knows every aspect of yours, all of the intimate nooks and crevices of your body. But this is different, far more private, feeling almost forbidden to be approached so…offhandedly. It's not just a faint trace of your scent nor the sharp aroma he trails straight from your skin. The t-shirt is soaked with you; it's still fresh enough to carry the aftertaste of a pleasant and flowery smell of washing detergent but also clearly worn for many nights already. It's the coziness of your tangled sheets, the rustle of a book you like to read before sleep, the simple touch of toothpaste and morning coffee, the whisper of dreams and hum of the alarm clock on your bed stand.
He's a brutal intruder, maybe for the first time ashamed of it—but chasing the sensation nevertheless, the stronger the bigger his guilt grows. Until this moment, Doflamingo has been sure you're in his possession, like a bird in a tight cage of his strings—and now each breath of your most sacred intimacy proves him what a fool he's been all this time. He holds a treasure he should never been trusted with, the image of you you kept to your solitude. You don't share such secrets with just anyone, oh Doflamingo is aware, so painfully aware. He's just your lover, just your king, just someone who can control your body and mind, but never your soul, wrapped tightly in this old t-shirt he so brutally gently presses to his face.
He wants more, he needs more, he fears more.
His eyes closing, Doflamingo takes one more, desperately deep breath, full of your smell and his loneliness. His arms should be filled with you—yet, they're empty. This shirt should be covering your breasts—yet, it's almost teared in his desperate clutch. Your voice should vibrate through his bedroom—and yet, there's only an echo of the sound he hasn't heard for decades. Your body should warm his side—yet he's shivering in the middle of his pathetic kingdom of four walls and ice-cold heart.
What's a king without the thing he craves the most, after all? Without the thing he will never claim as it's impossible to be claimed?
It scares him, that musky and heavy scent tangled in cotton threads. That lie detector, that sharp knife slicing his soul paper-thin, and heading towards the most vulnerable, the most protected core of his memories and emotions. Doflamingo takes the last, shaking whiff of it, and finally pulls away, his chest clenched tight and eyes dry and pricking. Your shirt is just a shirt again, just a piece of old, stretched fabric in his hands.
He almost throws it away, with fear and self-disgust.
It should be returned, it should be gone, but the longer he thinks about it, Doflamingo can't bring himself to move either way. Just the idea of handing it to a servant leaves a bad, bitter taste in his mouth, like sucking blood out of a cut on a parched lip. Walking to your house and disturbing your privacy even more fills him with anxiety he hasn't experienced before. And to call you here—
Your soul shouldn't be entrusted to a place of corporeality.
He would gladly just toss it out of his sight and mind—or to seal it in one of his hidden vaults, where neither of you wouldn't find it for a long, long time. At the same time, he doesn't want to, to hide and to heal. It burns his hand when he finally brings himself to pull the den den mushi out of the drawer and chooses your number he has, much to his surprise, learnt already by heart. It is almost physical, harder with each passing second, and he just keeps clenching his fingers tighter on it.
A few dreadful heartbeats later, the torturous, steady ring of awaiting call is interrupted by your voice. And Doflamingo can finally bleed his soul out into the speaker, "Y/N. Come. Yes, you left something at my place."
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gracieheartspedro · 6 months
Text
Beggin' for Thread
part 2 of Trash Talk
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pairing: fem!reader x abby anderson (post outbreak, set before the events of tlou2)
description: being stuck with abby and him-who-should-not-be-named on a mission is already a big problem. especially when you're not on your a-game. abby ends up saving your ass. but hey, it may not all be in vain. shit starts to get a bit better.
word count: 9.2k (HAHAHA I got wild with this one.)
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, no use of y/n, no real descriptions of reader, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, this part has a lot of murder in it (so if you're not good with violence, pls skip out), use of guns, graphic description of dead bodies, ow*n is in a lot of this (sorry), dom!abby, abby giving reader a bed bath, fingering, eating out, use of a strap on, dirty talk, name calling. someone lowkey walking in on sexy time? if I missed anything, please let me know.
author's note: the wait is over! the love on part 1 blows me away. I love you guys so fucking much. you each make my heart so happy. thank you thank you thank you!!
“Hey, Heartless. Glad you could join us today.”
His voice makes your skin crawl. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the haze out of your vision. You’re overly exhausted. After Abby left, you never found sleep. You could not get her out of your mind. She left you disoriented. 
“Hey, Owen,” You mutter, his name tastes disgusting in your mouth. He was gross to look at, let alone talk to. You decide to occupy your mind by checking over the guns you were just dispensed while you sit and wait for the jeep you would be loaded into gets gassed up. 
“Heard you and Abby got into it.”
You heart stops. He can’t know?
You hold your composure, not even flinching at the question. If he did know, you’re just going to deny it and tell him to fuck off. 
“What are you talking about?” You play dumb, not ever looking up to meet Owen’s gaze above you. 
“Manny told me you were going in on her yesterday,” He sounds a bit unnerved when he says it. You stop checking over your gun, finally meeting his eyes. Before you can respond, you cock the gun before flicking the safety on. 
“It’s not my fault she can’t pull her fuckin’ punches. We could’ve easily been picked off one by one since she didn’t want to unload her gun at some Scars.”
You don’t even realize how bitter you sound until it all comes out like word vomit. You weren’t even that angry about that, you knew you could handle it all alone. It was the fact that she left you hanging last night and became cold so quick. 
Owen chuckles, “Take it easy, dude. I’m just wonderin’ why you think it’s okay to talk to her like that.”
He’s sizing you up. Typical of a man like Owen. 
You stand up, knowing damn well it was the wrong day for him to do some shit like this to you. 
You sling your rifle over your shoulder, “I’m not in the mood to answer to some fuck ass like you. And I’m also sure your new nurse girlfriend wouldn’t like to hear that her boyfriend is trying to stick up for his ex.”
“Don’t bring Mel into this,” He begins, his stance shifting, “You don’t get to talk about her.”
“And you don’t get to weasel your way into my business because you’re some entitled idiot who thinks every woman owes you something,” You begin to side step past him, “For all our sake, keep your mouth shut and leave the leading to the girls.”
You don’t listen to the rest of the shit he spouts at you. You walk towards Manny, who’s standing next to another guy, you think his name is Alex. You give him a slight nod of acknowledgment. 
“Hey there, cariño,” Manny says a smile creeping across his face, “Sleep well?”
Your skin crawls.
“Like a baby,” You mumble, your eyes feeling heavy as you respond, “Who are we waiting for?”
“Abby and Leah will be here any minute,” Alex explains as he finishes filling the jeep with fuel, “Think they went to grab some breakfast.”
Hearing Abby’s name next to another girl's name made your throat tighten. You can’t be jealous. She’s not yours.
Just as you’re about to say something about being late to your checkpoint, Manny's eyes avert up to the door leading into the stadium. Abby and Leah appear, both holding a plethora of breakfast burritos. Your stomach had been upset all morning because of anxiety, so the idea of food makes you want to hurl. You observe Abby and Leah hand each foiled wrapped tortilla to everyone, making jokes about being late. 
Abby’s eyes lock onto yours as soon as her head turns in your direction. She blinks before avoiding your gaze for Manny’s.
“Nice for you guys to join us,” Alex jokes as Leah walks towards him with an extended hand, burrito in tow. 
You scoff, “Yeah, we should’ve left 20 minutes ago.”
Abby’s face drops from a soft smile to a deadly glare. She gives Manny a burrito, her hands holding two remaining. 
One was meant for you. 
“Yeah? Well you should’ve gotten a head start by yourself. Cleared the way for everyone.”
Her sharpness filled you with rage. She extends some foil towards you. Before you can even say anything, your instincts are to swat her arm away. The burrito flies out of her hand, splattering across the concrete floor. 
“What the fuck,” She yells, her eyes trained on your deadpan expression. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you glance back to a stern looking Manny. He doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday. 
You look back at Abby’s furrowed eyebrows, her scrunched face causing sharp pains to go across your chest. 
“I don’t like burritos.”
She shakes her head, “So you launch it out of my fuckin’ hands when someone else could’ve eaten it?!”
You don’t say anything, just turn and begin your climb up onto the jeep. You slip onto the spot you found yourself in yesterday, closest to the passenger side. 
You watch everyone hesitantly get in behind you. 
-
“Are you okay taking the top floors with Owen and Abby? Or do you want to come with me and Leah?”
Manny is adjusting his rifle on his shoulder. You all arrived to the skyscraper you heard Scars were trying to take over to get some higher ground on a popular WLF route. Your goal is to take out every Scar there and prepare it for WLF occupation. 
Manny wanted to make sure you would not act up for Abby and Owen. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout if there was another incident involving you. He really liked you, he didn’t want to see you getting chewed out or possibly killed. You appreciated him looking out for you. 
“That’s fine,” you settle your hands confidently on your gun, “I will be on my best behavior, Manny. Promise.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
You stay back from the rest of the group as you all walk quietly through the destroyed streets of Seattle. Luckily this area wasn’t consistently flooded, so you didn’t have to wade through any filthy water today. 
Abby walks in front of you next to Leah and Owen. You stare at her backside, trying not to make yourself too obvious. You need to cut it out, you need to focus. 
When you all finally make it to the building, you huddle in with the group to remind each person where they are going. You and Manny hashed it out already so you want to be positive you knew where everyone would be if all hell broke loose. 
Owen cringes when he hears that you’d be joining him and Abby. 
You all split up to your designated places. You let Owen lead not wanting to argue when Scars could be on any corner. He starts towards a staircase, his gun trained forward. You follow him before Abby does, which means she gets to be behind you now. You three head up each staircase, your guns resting on your shoulders. You are as quiet as mice, your footfalls silent. 
Owen stops, turning back to you and Abby. 
“I hear them,” He whispers, pointing up the flight you have yet to go up. You nod, gesturing him to press forward. He continues on. This is when your adrenaline turns to numbness. You forget the emotions you had before you were in this staircase, they are now replaced with pure instinct. 
Owen creeps open the door and that’s when you hear it. 
A whistle from behind you. 
You snap back, your finger and eyes reacting at the same time. A single Scar with their bow trained right on Abby. With one squeeze, they are on the ground bleeding and Abby jumps forward towards your body. She wraps her arms around your waist, her gun aimed towards the door Owen just opened. More whistling. 
“Go!”
You’re not even focused on the fact that Abby has her hands on you, pulling your attention back to the open room of about 10 Scars. Owen is lighting up the room, but firing aimlessly. You hunch down, taking cover behind the door frame. Abby is beside you, tightly gripping onto her gun. You glance over at her. She’s not panicked, she’s not rattled. She’s angry. 
You smirk at her, sickly enjoying her in this state. 
You snap forward, aiming everywhere you see movement. Luckily Owen got the few at the front of the room. One, two, three, drop in their puddles of blood. When more gunfire erupts behind you, instinct is to look back. So when you look back at Abby firing skillfully at the people you missed, you just about fall to your knees. 
When you look back, you realize no more movement stirs the smokey room. 
“Everyone okay?” Owen calls out as you step forward as you wander around each piece of furniture in the room. You want to make sure you’re vigilant. 
“I’m good, are you?”
You step over a man’s body as you spot a foot move behind a desk. 
When you make it over to the body, it’s a girl with her hand over her neck. You aimed at her earlier, you could’ve sworn you aimed higher. 
The fact that your initial thought was how you killed her made your brain snap back. What the fuck are you doing?
She’s trying to speak, but nothing is coming out. Blood is pooling on her chest and hands. You kneel down to her, your demeanor changing from violent murderer to grieving friend. Even with the scars littering her face, she looks just like any other girl you may know. Her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out. You reach out your hand, touching her leg. 
You can feel your stomach flip when you notice a tear slipping from her eye. Guilt riddles your bones, the blood spilling from her by your own hand. 
You swallow thickly before you mutter the words, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
She lets out one final breath. 
You stand, your legs feeling wobbly. You look back at Abby and Owen. He’s not focused on you, but Abby can’t look away from your actions. She gives you a curious look, watching you stumble a bit. 
“What is it?”
You can’t even form words, too taken aback from watching the life slip from that girl’s eyes. It brought you back to when you were a child, watching your sister die. That could’ve been someone’s sister. 
“What the fuck are we even doing?” You ask, trying not to stutter. 
Owen finally looks over at you after stealing a guy’s gun magazine, “What are you talking about?”
You know you’ll get in trouble for saying what you really want to say. You can’t trust either of them. Everything would get back to Isaac. 
So you don’t say anything.
You finish clearing the room, trying to avoid looking at the faces of the deceased. Owen and Abby leave the room while you trail behind them slowly. You’re on edge, trying to shake the emotions and ideas running through your head. It’s the same emotion you felt when that guy tried to force you to butcher a child, probably not even above the age of 10. Their mother stood by, screaming the child’s name, but you were too busy staring into the child’s eyes. 
They are just like us. What are we doing?
Owen kicks open another door, leading you and Abby through what you assumed was an old board room. There was no one there, but as you looked across the water damaged floor, you notice one of the shattered glasses windows. You creep closer, the glass crunching under your boots. You look down to the street, the grass overtaking the main road. You start to imagine what this place probably looked like before the infection. 
Now it’s a wasteland. 
You realize how high up you are when you hear a shaky breath behind you. Abby stands close to you, trying to see what you’re seeing, but instead she starts to panic over the height you were at. You face her, remembering all the times you were forced to take the high ground with her, only for her to have a panic attack and leave you alone. 
She’s practically dry heaving. You push her back, nudging her to get away from the open window. 
“We don’t need you throwing up,” You grumble, your hand on her shoulder, “Stay back.”
She swallows, shaking her head. “Deal.”
Owen scopes out an attached room before you three continue pressing on. You needed to clear every room that wasn’t destroyed by time and vegetation. 
You pander down an empty hallway by yourself, trying to ensure your footsteps are not loud. You grip your gun when you hear a couple voices in a separate stairway. You press yourself against the wall next to the exit, waiting for the voices to get closer. 
“There can’t be that many left. We already got two of them.”
You snap your head the direction Abby and Owen were the last time you saw them. Now it’s only Abby. She stares at you, her eyes glinting with curiosity. You nod towards the door next to you, cocking your gun. 
She knows what that means. She jogs over, trying not to be too loud. 
When she gets to your side, she gets into a defensive stance. The voices are coming down the stairs, you think. 
“Aim up. There’s two.”
She nods right before you kick open the door, exposing the two people on the stairs. They don’t even have time to raise their weapons before Abby riddles them with bullets. 
The sound attracts Owen, who comes stomping down the hallway. 
“There’s more, go down!”
You hold your ground, shaking your head, “We can’t! Isaac said we need to c-”
“Fuck what he said. We are gonna die if we stay!”
Owen is never one to abandon a mission, so you take his word for it. But you know what you heard, if they did kill 2 people, one of them could’ve been Manny. And if they killed Manny, you don’t know what you’d do. Manny is the only other person you can tolerate in the WLF. Besides… you know. 
You have to just hope he’s okay. 
Abby’s eyes widen as she looks down the hall where Owen was just coming from. Whistles erupt and you know what that means. Abby grabs your free hand, practically ripping your arm out of the socket as she takes off down the stairs. 
You’re practically being dragged down the steps, skipping multiple steps at once as Abby never gives up your hand. Owen is close behind, but every so often, he stops to aim up the stairs to spray bullets. He’s trying to slow them down, but he’s also probably attracting more to your location. A door swings open in Abby’s path, and without even thinking for a millisecond, you lift up your gun and shoot directly into the opening. It was just one guy and your aim was spot on. Your mind is solely on protecting the girl who’s incapable of letting go of your hand. 
“Keep moving!”
Another five flights and you’re finally on the ground floor. Abby finally releases your hand, letting you catch your breath for a second as Owen stands his ground and lights up the staircase behind you.
“We need to find the others! Now!” Abby yells over the gunfire.
You stumble forward, checking down the hallway you watched Manny and Leah go down before you three walked up the stairs. You don’t even say anything, you just start running down the corridor. Your throat is tight just thinking of Manny’s lifeless body. 
Two Scars appear behind a corner and you expertly shoot them, running straight pass them without hestitating. You’re in fight or flight mode, your body shaking with fear that you could stumble upon a horrible scene. 
You don’t know when you start doing it, but you start screaming his name. Over and over again. You’re giving away where you are to the enemy, but you did not care.
Before you can finish slaughtering more people, Manny and Leah yell your name from a room at the end of the hall. When you get to the door, you kick it open with all your might, breaking through the door with your foot. 
“¿Qué pasó? Are you alright!?”
You’re panting and on edge, so when you see Manny’s concerned face, you breath a sigh of relief. His voice brings a bit of comfort as well. 
Abby finally makes it to you, her boots halting right behind you, while her hands find the sides of your body. 
“We gotta go! There’s more Scars than we thought. We either go or die!”
You swallow thickly, your body buzzing at the feeling of Abby’s large hands on your hips. She’s not doing it on purpose, it’s almost like she needs to have you close. She needs to protect you just like you protected her.
Manny glances over at Leah, nodding in agreement that they are on the same page. Abby pulls you away from the threshold so they can leave the room they were scoping out. Owen gets to you four, informing everyone where he thinks the Scars could hide and how they would probably make your escape hard. Abby’s hands are still on you. 
You glance back at her, your lips slightly ajar. She looks down at you with hooded lids. 
“We are getting out of here and you’re not leaving my side, got it?” She whispers for your ears only. You just nod. 
You’re just following everyone at this point, keeping your finger trained on the trigger of your gun. Abby follows you closely, not letting you out her eyeline. You run through each corridor, trying to seek out a good exit. When you finally reach the end of a hallway, you peer out the floor to ceiling windows to see if you spot any Scars outside. There’s two rooms beside you that look like they are empty, but there’s no light shining through the thresholds. This is the only way out down this hallway. You were sick of being a sitting duck. When you realize you have no other choices you liked, you shoot out the window. 
The group jumps back at your reaction. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” Owen yells, smacking your shoulder hard. You turn your gun and aim it right at him. Abby’s eyes widen at your action, her arm instantly going up to block the barrel of your gun. She’s pleading with you, her eyes never leaving yours. 
“I’m getting us out of here. Why do you insist on being a prob-”
Before you can get the rest of the word out, you hear footsteps approaching you quickly from the right. All you can remember is the air being taken from your lungs and your body flying sideways, away from Abby’s protective stance. 
-
When you come to, you’re being held up by someone. You blink slowly, but your eyes will not focus on the person whose arms are holding you tight.
“What’s happening?” You manage to mutter. As you say it, you taste blood. Your ears are ringing, but you can still hear the voices around you. They are yelling to run faster! 
“You’re gonna be fine, okay babe?”
You know that voice. 
“You can’t call me that.”
She slows down a bit just to look at you, “Can call you whatever I want.”
Your head hurts. You know you can not fight the exhaustion plaguing your body. You can’t even argue back to her. You shut your eyes again, succumbing to the darkness. 
-
You notice the pounding headache first. Then the very dimly lit hospital room you’re in. Then the presence in the corner of the room. 
“Welcome back,” Her voice is smooth and velvety. You prop yourself a bit, but as soon as you do, it’s like the pressure in your head doubles. You feel like your brain may implode, the pain pulsating against your skull. You try to widen your eyes to focus on her, but your brain cannot muster enough energy to do so. Your vision is just slightly blurred while you train your eyes on her. 
“What happened?” Your voice is weak and your mouth is dry. You try your best to create saliva, but nothing really happens when you smack your chapped lips. 
“You got tackled by a Scar before any of us could see him coming. Asshole was quick. You smacked your head pretty hard on the floor,” She stands up from the chair in the corner, making her way closer to you. She’s not wearing the same shirt as yesterday. She’s in a long sleeve thermal, the light off white is a good color on her. 
You blink slowly, trying to take in the information, “What happened to him?”
“Manny shot him when I was ripping him off you. It attracted a lot more of them. I grabbed you before anyone else could and just took off running.”
You look up at her when she gets to your side. You don’t say anything, just shake your head. You can’t believe Abby, of all people, saved you from possible death. She had your back the whole time, even though you gave her shit. You didn’t even realize the small glances, the quick actions when you were in your own zone. 
All you could think about the whole time is how you were totally off your game and Isaac was going to have your neck for it. 
“And the rest of the group?”
“They were close behind. We made it back to the jeep pretty quickly. I held you in the back until we could get to the hospital. That’s where we are now.”
“Who didn’t make it out?”
Her lips go into a thin line, “Alex and Kerrigan.”
Alex was the guy from earlier this morning with Manny. He seemed nice enough, surely he didn’t deserve to die. Kerrigan was a girl you remember from a couple of meetings with Isaac. She was a smaller girl, quick on her feet and very quiet. You can’t even really remember her face, which makes you feel bad. 
“Shit… I’m sorry we couldn’t get to them.”
“Not your fault. They knew what they were getting into when we had them join patrols. I know Owen’s taking it pretty hard.”
You want to smack her for even bringing up his name. But you don’t. You know she still may have a special place in her heart for him. You just despised him, especially after he confronted you this morning. Prick. 
She’s taking her time explaining things to you. You realize she’s not ever looking away from you when she speaks, something she usually does when you stare at her. She’s watching you carefully, her beautiful eyes soft with empathy.
“Are you okay?” You question, reaching out to her closest hand. She doesn’t pull away when you grab it, bringing it into your side.
She bites her cheek, “Yeah, course I am. Just glad I got you out of there.”
The softness of her whisper brings warmth to your entire body. You didn’t care about your head, or how hot the room was, or how you may have serious repercussions when you got back to the Stadium. 
What mattered is that she’s here. She’s here and she wants to be. You felt relief that she may have come to her senses about what happened between you two. Something had to of changed.
“What changed? Why are you so dead set on helping me now?”
She winces, probably not expecting you to ask such a question. She contemplates for a minute, licking her lips to prepare herself for what she’s about to say. 
“I can’t stop thinking about last night. Made me realize how I really feel about you,” You’re heart races at her words. You’re amazed when she continues, “I think I was scared of having those types of emotions for you. That’s why I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to lay in your bed and overthink everything when it’s pretty simple.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “What’s simple?”
“The fact that I like you. And I have for awhile.”
It’s like the world stops and it’s just you and Abby. You can tell she’s nervous to say it, but she needed it off her chest like it was suffocating her. She lefts out a long huff, crouching down in a squat. Her unraveling braid falls onto her shoulder and you let your eyes trail it down to her chest. You notice some blood speckled in with her freckles, right near her button nose and cheekbones. 
“Yeah, I like you, too.”
She smiles subtly, trying not to get too excited over the confession. But the truth was that she wanted to jump up and down in elation. She had never had someone confide in her about their feelings for her, so the idea that someone as beautiful as you could like her despite all her baggage, it gave her hope. 
“I want to go home,” You grumble not sure what else to say, your thumb running over the back of her hand, “I wanna go home with you.”
“The doctor here wants to monitor you another day. I have to ship out and get back to explain to Isaac what happe-“
“No, fuck that,” You squeeze her hand, “You’re staying here with me and bringing me back to the Stadium. I’m not going back with anyone else.”
She notes the serious nature of your tone. She looks up at you with those eyes. Abby Anderson could very well be the death of you. 
“I can’t refuse orders, babe,” She states, her eyes falling to your joined hands.
“Bullshit, Abby. If you tell Isaac I want you as my transport, he will let you stay. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
You’re practically panicking thinking about Abby leaving without you. With the way you feel now, you don’t want to be out without her. She felt like the safest person to have around. You can’t trust anyone else. 
You start to finally bring wetness back to your mouth, “Tell him that you need to be with me.”
“You know damn well everyone will be suspicious. I need to go back. You need to stay here. Nora will take you back, you’ll be s-“
“Get me out of this fuckin’ bed right now. I’m going with you.”
You stay to move but your body feels like jello. As soon as you try to plant your feet on the ground, Abby is reaching over your legs and placing them back on the gurney. 
“Babe,” She pleads, “Just… fuck. Okay fine, I’ll stay. I’ll stay. We can both answer to Isaac when we get back, I guess.”
Relief rushes over your body. 
“He’s going to have a lot to say to me, that’s for sure. I failed two missions in a row that usually are a piece of cake,” You put your free hand over your forehead. You’re sweating so bad. You glance over at Abby who’s reaching over to one of the tables by your bed for a rag, “I’m not a submissive girl to him like I am to you.”
She smirks up at you. She can’t believe you admitted to being a submissive to her. 
“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”
If your body didn’t feel like shit, you know you’d be grabbing Abby by her collar and hauling her up on the bed to kiss you. She made your face go hot, her piercing eyes raking down your body. You almost felt embarrassed being so vulnerable in front of her. 
“Stop looking at me like that,” You warn, adjusting your butt on the hard bed. 
“Like what?”
You rake your mind for a response. You settle for repeating something she said to you yesterday. 
“Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute,” You try to mock her but you sound nothing like her. She laughs at your half assed imitation. She pats your head with the cold rag, getting all the sweat off your forehead.
“Get some sleep, you weirdo.”
-
“How ya doin’, princess?”
You shake your head at the nickname, smacking her arm with your left hand. You’re still weak and tired, but you felt a lot better with some extra rest. Abby loaded you up in a jeep as soon as you could hobble outside, and now you are heading back to the stadium. You couldn’t wait to get in your bed and sleep for three days straight. 
“‘M good, thanks.”
Her smile is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know what this meant for you two, but you were excited to see how things would change over time for you two. Maybe you’d be put on less patrols together, but you could spend your free days and nights with her. After all this time, you could have her. 
She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, “Can I ask you something?”
“Depends.”
She slows down the car to glance over at you, “What did you mean when you asked what the hell we were doing? Yesterday when that Scar was trying to reach out to you as she was dying?”
Your heart sinks. Your mind instantly goes to betrayal. Abby is only acting like this towards you because she wants information. She wants to rat you out.
You go from thinking about your deep desire for Abby to thinking about how to protect yourself, she’s going to ruin your life. You’re instantly spiraling. 
“I don’t know what you’re asking me. Are you insinuating something?”
You watch as panic spread across her face. She realizes how bad she sounds asking such a question. 
“No, no,” She’s starting to stutter and use her hands as she speaks, “That’s not what I meant by it.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I’m just wondering if you feel the same guilt I feel sometimes! You know, like when you kill a someone and watch the life leave their eyes, I don’t know. Jesus.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. She wasn’t trying to double cross you, just emphasize with you. You really can not trust yourself to think the worst of everyone. Maybe because it felt like everything with Abby was too good to be true. 
You wet your lips, “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t like to… I never enjoy killing people. I never have.”
She can’t help but laugh a bit. “Well you’re really fuckin’ good at it.”
“Top Scar killer in all the WLF,” You wince when you say it. She doesn’t say anything just shakes her head, speeding up the jeep down an old abandoned alleyway. You weren’t too far from the entrance to the Stadium. 
She clears her throat, “There’s only one person I’d really enjoy killing.”
Abby has never shared a lot about her past. You knew she and the Salt Lake crew were former Fireflies. You knew that she lost her dad not too long before she got to Seattle. But that’s all the information you managed to get out of her when you two were close before. She didn’t want to talk about herself, she’d rather hear about your tortured past. 
“Who?”
“Joel Miller,” Silence takes over the cabin of the car. You have no idea who that is or why she cared to kill him. Before you can ask, she speaks up again, “The man who killed my father.”
You understand what it feels like to want revenge. But you also know what it’s like to finally get it. Most of the time you still feel bad. Nothing brings back the dead, not even the satifaction of watching their killer’s take their last breaths. You brutualized the man who killed your sister, and it never made her death any easier. But you knew that yearning was different for everyone. Maybe it would make Abby feel better. 
You decide it’s best to just nod, acknowledging her desire. 
The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, just the sound of crackling of rocks under the SUV’s tires. When you get to the entrance of the Stadium, Abby waves and calls out to the gatekeeper. He opens the tall wired fence and lets you two pass through. As soon as Abby parks, it’s like a swarm of people surround you two. Abby gestures you to wait so she can get your door. You laugh thinking about that stupid saying some old people say. 
Maybe chivalry isn’t dead. 
She swings open the door, pushing aside some random guy who’s staring you down. You grab Abby’s shoulder as you ease yourself onto the concrete. You were still a bit unsteady when you walked. It was a mixture of the weakness but also Nora told you that the concussion you have is probably causing balance issues. You took her word for it. 
“Top Scar killer not looking so well, now,” The guy mutters from behind Abby, “Who knows, maybe one of us can be Isaac’s favorite ass kisser!”
You don’t even know the guy and the vibe he’s giving off is making you nervous. He’s about 5’8” and stocky. Abby could take him herself, but you don’t feel the need for her to fight for your honor after everything that you two have been through in the last two days. Abby huffs out in annoyance, ensuring you’re able to stand properly. You start to walk towards the ramp that leads up to the Stadium’s main corridors. The guy is still muttering shit as Abby unloads your backpack and hers. 
“What are you friends with her now, Abby?”
“Can you fuck off? Does it look like either of us are in the mood?” She spits, slinging your backpack over her shoulder. You stand and wait at the base of the ramp for her to catch up. The guy just follows her closely, interrogating her about the mission that failed. Abby just ignores him, her eyes locked on yours. Before she makes it to you, the guy asks one final question. 
“What do you have a crush on her or something?”
Abby drops her backpack on the ground, and within seconds, she has the guy pinned to a truck parked near the ramp. His body makes a loud thwack when he hits the metal. Her back muscles flex as she tightens her grip. As hot as it is, you don’t feel like watching her beat someone bloody for something so dumb. You weren’t feeling your fiesty self, you just wanted to be in bed. 
“Did anyone ever fuckin’ teach you manners or are you just that fuckin’ dense?” She has her teeth clenched. As you get close, you see that she’s ripping his t-shirt. Your moving slowly, but as soon as violent words are being exchanged, you firmly grab Abby’s arm. She peels her eyes away from the guy, her face still scrunched in frustration. 
“Just let him talk his shit, Abs. He’s just jealous because he can’t get any pussy.”
You don’t even know why you included the last part, but it only aggravates the guy more. You aren’t very good at deescalation. You usually instigate things, it’s your specialty. 
Luckily, the master of settling fights comes running down the ramp. Manny. 
“Hey, you guys just got home and you’re already stirring up trouble?” 
Abby still has the guy pinned, his eyes trained on your fragile frame. 
Manny grabs Abby’s arms and pries her off the guy, his body blocking you away from the guy as well. He starts speaking Spanish under his breath, probably venting his frustrations about Abby and you not giving him a moment of peace. 
He talks down the guy, guiding him away from you and Abby. You bend over to grab her bag and shakingly hand it back to her. She watches carefully as Manny escorts the guy further down the parking lot. With her free arm, she wraps it protectively around you. You get chills up your arms and back as you two walk into the Stadium. You’re surprised she’s showing any inkling of liking you to other people, especially her peers. You know there were probably about 10 other people in the parking lot, and they for sure saw her sticking up for you. 
She drops her arm as soon as you make it to the main hallways. People glare over at you as you drudge yourself down the halls, finally making it to a staircase that would put you right in front of your room. Abby lets you start up the stairs first while she stands behind you, keeping her eyes wide in case you fall backwards. You’re relieved as you reach the last step and spot your door waiting for you. 
Abby runs ahead of you, grabbing the door and wiggling the knob.
“It’s locked.”
She rolls her eyes, “I know that now. Where’s your key?”
You turn your jaw upward and gesture towards the necklace. “Here.”
Instead of making you unravel it, she lifts her hands up to your chest. Her fingers travel down from your neck to your collarbones. She’s teasing you and it’s working. 
She grabs the key and toys with it for a minute, trying to release the clasp. Once she figures it out, she holds the key up like a grand prize. 
“You’re so stupid, please let me in my room.” 
She giggles as she sticks the key into the latch and turns it, “Patience, princess.”
Once the door clicks, she opens it for you. The cold air of your room rushes out and cools your sweaty and dirty skin. You get a sense of solace when you walk in, your body feeling a bit reenergized at the sight. 
Abby walks close to you, shutting the door behind her. She shimmies off your bag, dropping her own near the door. 
“You mind if I stay for a bit?”
Butterflies creep into the pit of your stomach. You turn to face her, spotting a somewhat hesitant girl picking at her cuticles. 
“I was hoping you would. Maybe you could give me a bed bath, just like my nurse did.”
She nods, a smirk plastered across her freckled face. 
“If you need me to, I can for sure do that,” She starts to walk over to your sink, searching for some sort of bowl or towel, “I could probably do a better job.”
You stumble over to the side of your bed, kicking off your boots with a grunt. You know exactly where this is going, and even with your weakened body, you want her so bad. 
She continues to search around, finding a large bowl and a couple of your wash rags. She fills the bowl with the warmest water as you peel off some of your clothes, leaving you in just your underwear and tank top. 
“A better job, huh?”
She finds a bar of soap near your shampoo bottles. She sniffs it before she bounds over to you. 
“Yeah,” She places the bowl on your side table, dropping a rag inside it to soak it, “I think I know your body a little bit better than Nora. Especially after the other night.”
She can’t talk to you like this, especially now that you’re in your underwear. You scoot over on the bed to allow her to sit as she rings out the blue rag. She lathers a bit of soap on it before she starts with your arms. 
She grabs your wrist delicately, lifting it so she can clean the dust and dirt off. You watch her so intently, watching her wipe you down. When she finishes one arm, she does the other. She takes her time, tilting it back and forth to ensure she got every side. 
“You want me to do your legs next?”
You smile as she soaks the towel again and ring it out. “You can do whatever you want, Abs.”
She raises her eyebrows as she creeps further down the bed. She kicks off her shoes, settling herself between your slightly spread legs. 
“This bringing you back?” You question, slightly adjusting yourself so your legs get closer to her sides. She shakes her head sheepishly, grabbing your right ankle. 
“Hmm, maybe,” She traces your legs with the rag, using her other colder hand to rub in the wet areas, “If you weren’t so weak, I’d treat you just as well as the other night.”
Even in your broken state, you can’t help yourself. “Easier to control me when I’m like this.”
She chuckles, shaking her head, “That’s taking advantage of you, and that’s not my style.”
I guess now that she confessed her feelings for you, you had to deal with a softer Abby. One that wouldn’t take control of you in the public showers. You watch as she softly runs the lavender scented towel up and down your bruised and battered legs. She is focused, not looking at you, but her eyes trailing up and down from your thighs to your ankles. 
You sit up further, leaning forward and raising your fingers down to her chin. You tilt her focus to your gaze.
“What if I want you to? Ya’ know, give you my consent?”
Her eyes darken as she settles back a bit, making your hand fall from her face. She tenses up her shoulders before rolling them back, easing herself into the idea of getting between your legs again. You smile watching her do the mental gymnastics. 
Her hand settles back onto your thigh, “You’re so desperate.”
You know you got her. 
Without saying another word, her hand travels up to your underwear. She softly places her hand over your mound, her thumb tracing your clothed slit. You lay back as wetness pools in the spot she’s touching, your body heating up naturally. 
Before she goes any further, she pulls away and plops the rag into the warm water on your side table. 
She leans forward towards you, repositioning her entire body by propping herself on her elbows right in front of your core. It was hot watching the girl you were obsessed with settling herself, still fully clothed, before your heat. You could cum at the sight alone. 
She rubs small circles right where your eager clit was through your panties. Before you can even moan out for her, she slips past the fabric and dips her pointer finger into your core. As soon as she does that, it feels like the coil may snap. You didn’t even realize how horny she has you. Maybe it was the anticipation or maybe it was the fact that this time you knew her true feelings for you. Hate sex was hot, but sex when you know she’s plagued with thoughts of you when you’re not even around, that was even better.
You don’t expect her next move. Instead of sliding your panties off, she uses minimal strength to just rip them in half.
As soon as you’re fully exposed for her, she turns into an animal. She mewls at your glistening slit. 
“All for me?” She questions before leaning in to pepper kisses all along the wet trail. You can’t help but whimper desperately at the action. 
“Yes, Abs. All for you.”
She flattens her tongue, moving further into you. Her actions are painfully slow, taking her time to drink you up. You instinctively try to close your legs together when she starts to move faster, being overwhelmed by her maneuvers. As soon as you try to move, she’s using her strong arms to hold you down. Your legs are practically pinned to the bed, her right hand still sticky from your center. 
She shakes her head back and forth, creating a whole new feeling in your stomach. You don’t even think about how loud you’re being for her, not caring if the older guy next to you hears how loud you’re getting for Abby fucking Anderson.  
For not being with women often, Abby knew exactly how to treat your pussy. She decides to change it up and add her fingers back into the equation. Once her index and middle finger enter you, you know that familiar feeling heating up your stomach. 
“Abby, fuck, don’t stop.”
And she doesn’t. Instead she quickens her mistrations, her lips enveloping your clit and her fingers fucking you faster. You reach down, grabbing her braid and the crown of her head and push her further into you as your orgasm crashes down. She drinks you down, taking everything you gave her. 
She pulls away from you, her face wet with your slick. 
“Such a good girl for me,” She continues to play with you, her fingers remaining in your heat, “Do you need me to stop? Or do you want me to give it to you like I did before?”
You smirk as you glance towards the toy that you tucked back into your side table. 
“It’s in there,” You croak out, “Need you to.”
She reaches over you, her body pressed against your stomach as she opens the top drawer and grabs the strap. Your stomach is reeling in anticipation, ready to watch Abby on top you. 
When she gets it out, she rolls off the bed completely. You watch as she strips off her shirt, leaving her bra on. You still are in disbelief of her body, her muscles highlighted perfectly by the glisten of sweat. She keeps her underwear on but you crave to see how wet she is. 
“Take the underwear off,” You say, reaching out to touch her toned stomach, “Wanna see all of you.”
She puts the strap on, ignoring your request.
“I’m not taking any demands from you right now, sweetheart. You take what I give you.”
You loved seeing her be dominant. Seeing the appendage hang from her center makes you throb. She gets back on top of you, caging your body in with her strong arms. She nudges your nose with hers, teasing you by keeping her lips inches away from yours.
“Need you, Abs.”
She captures your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth. Her lips aren’t the only thing moving into you, her hips grind into your open core. The plastic cock does not enter you, but the mixture of her kissing you and grinding is enough to send you into maddening moans.
Her swollen lips pull away, her eyes dark as she lines herself up with your opening. She drags the cock up and down, gathering your slick before easing it inside. You see stars as it stretches you, your voice hearse and gutteral. Abby eats it up. She zeros in on watch it ease out of you and split you wide open. You’re so wet, the squelching sends her to another dimension. She settles into a pace that was agnoizingly slow, taking her time with your body. She reaches behind your legs and bends them so they wrap around her waist. The new angle allows her to hit you in all the right places. 
Your orgasm is building with each stroke. She’s smiling while your mouth is set in an “o” shape, loving the reactions she was getting out of you.
“Jesus, taking me so fuckin’ well, baby,” She mewls, her hands caressing up your sides to grab onto a very important part of your body that she hardly played with this time around. You’re not wearing a bra under your tank top, so when her hands make it under the white fabric, her fingers pinch at your nipples. “You love when I fuck you like this don’t you?”
“Yes, Abby, please. I need to cum.”
She leans forward, bringing her greedy lips to yours. Since your lips are already open, her tongue enters your mouth. You suck at it, trying to get her to pay attention to your pleas. She retracts back, fucking into you harder. 
“Cum for me, then, you little slut.”
The words send you overboard. You’re falling, crashing. The waves of pleasure take over every achy muscle, your body jerking forward into Abby’s sweaty upper body. She wraps her arms around you, fucking into you still as you fall apart. You don’t know the words you’re saying, you’re just loudly whispering into her ear. 
Once your vision clears up, you look to the side to check your position out in the mirror ontop of your dresser. You looked like a fucked out mess, but Abby is the most beautiful thing you ever did see. 
You’re trying to catch your breath, your body feeling even weaker than before. Fucking someone when you had a concussion was probably not the best idea, but god damn did every part of you feel like it was buzzing. Abby stands up, her legs wobbly from being on her knees so long.
“Do you want me to make you cum?”
She smiles at your question, but she shakes her head. She yanks down the strap, opening the side drawer and tossing it in. 
“No, I just wanted to treat you. You can repay the favor when you’re feeling better.”
You start to laugh, throwing yourself back into your pillows. As soon as Abby starts to crawl back into bed, there’s a loud knock at your door. You’re both half naked, so the scramble for clothes is instanteous. You grab the first pair of pants you see and as you’re yanking them up your legs, you realize they are Abby’s. 
“Coming in!”
It’s Isaac’s voice. Your stomach drops as the knob turns and you and Abby stand completely still in your spots. Her pants don’t fit you well at all, so hold them over your private area to block any eyes from it. 
He doesn’t even make eye contact with you, he instantly meets Abby’s panicked gaze.
“What the hell?” He turns to you and immediately turns his back, “Well I see that you’re feeling better.”
Your blood ran cold. 
“Yeah, can you uh, give us a minute?”
He doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and slams it behind him. You’re appalled that he even opened the door without confirmation of that being okay. Your eyes snap over to Abby, who’s look of fear turns into rage. You yank off her pants and toss them to her.
“We’re fucked,” She mumbles, putting her clothes on. You search a nearby dresser drawer for some sweatpants and pull down your ragged tank top. You look back at Abby to check to make sure she’s clothed before you head back to the door and let Isaac in. 
You nod at her before grabbing the handle and pulling the door open. When you meet his gaze, he doesn’t look impressed. You are shocked to see another figure beside him. Manny.
“Hey there,” Manny greets, his eyes showing a bit of hesitance. “We good to come in now?”
You don’t say anything, just open the door wider for them to step through the threshold. Abby stands by your desk, her arms crossed. She tries to keep an emotionless expression, but you can tell she’s pissed. And maybe a bit nervous. 
“Just checking in to see how you are,” Isaac says, his pacing leading him to one of the chairs in the corner of your room. You bite the inside of your cheek.
“Just a concussion. Some bruises. Should be good to get back on after some of the nurses here clear me.”
You try to sound confident but you’re still somewhat dazed from the sex you just had. You lean against the beam in the center of your room, trying your best not to look over to see what Abby is doing. You could still feel your cum dripping down your leg. 
“Yeah I don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon,” Isaac says, his demeanor changing towards you, “I still don’t trust you. And now you’re sleeping with Abby? You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”
Your heart sinks, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Manny clears his throat, “Owen told us you were questioning the mission. That you weren’t pulling your punches. Letting some Scars live.”
“Well, he’s a fuckin’ liar!” Your voice is cracking, unsure of how to defend yourself. You were pissed at Owen and you knew that emotion would turn into vengeance. They can’t ostracize you for something like that. They can’t kill you for being empathetic. Can they?
“She never said that,” Abby finally speaks up, “I was there. Owen has it wrong.”
“Abby…” Isaac says in a warning tone, “You better not be lying for her.”
Abby scoffs, “When have I ever lied to you? Never. I am not lying for her. Owen was the one who refused your orders and got us all to leave. He said we go or we die. You shouldn’t be reprimanding her. She told him we had a job to do.”
Isaac halts in his rebuttal, thinking of what his next move should be. 
Manny crosses his arms. You’re so pissed, you want to slap him. How dare he go against you and be here to watch Isaac try to accuse you of something like this? What did you ever do to him?
“Is this true?” Isaac questions, standing up to get closer to your slightly hunched over frame. 
You don’t even hesitate, knowing this was all going to fall back on Owen. You wanted to see how that ended for him. 
“Yes. I knew I could not let you down another time. I would never risk something like that. I’m loyal to you and this cause. I am sorry if I let you down again. I wanted to finish the job, I really did.”
You were an outstanding liar. And now you know, Abby was, too. She also had your back. Which made you like her even more. 
Isaac tries to sense any deception but there’s nothing written on either of your faces to indicate that. 
 “Report back to me in two days,” He says to you with a very stern voice, “and Anderson, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You’re first patrol out.”
When he’s satisfied with his interrogation, he turns to Manny.
“Well, I guess you were right about one thing.”
Manny furrows his eyebrows at the slightly shorter man, unsure what he’s talking about. “Sir?”
“They are fucking each other, but they aren’t liars,” He turns back to you and Abby, giving you two a kurt nod. 
You cross your arms, watching Isaac leave the room and bump into Manny as he does. You don’t even want to deal with him right now, so you wave him out, not saying anything to him. You would deal with him later. Right now, you need a back rub and sleep. And that’s exactly what you intended to get when that door slammed on Manny’s ass on his way out. 
880 notes · View notes
ravensmadreads · 8 months
Text
Unhinged totally unasked for thots about Riding Pedro Boys
Authors Note: So this came from me chugging entirely too many energy drinks and then projectile vomiting in Taylors inbox. I'd like to warn you that: English isn't my first language, I have never written smut before, I'm not a real writer, and also I'm trash goblin levels of unhinged about this. That being said; Enjoy and uhh. Forgive me Fandom
JAVIER PEÑA
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Javier Pena doesn't let you do it.
Don't @ me LISTEN! (YES I STARTED OFF WITH A CONTROVERSIAL THOT FUCKING BITE ME.)
That man does not have the time, or the patience, or the good sense (the sense is at the other end) to let you ride. He needs the control okay? And sometimes it's not even about the control ! It's the frustration. It piles and piles and piles until he snaps. He needs to do. He will bend you over and work his frustration away until he has had enough and you let him because he needs it. (And lets be real he makes it worth your while every single time)
BUT. When he finally fucking retires, and gets a ranch, and breaths air not tinged with the smells of death, cigarettes and guns for the first time in however many years, and maybe drinks some fucking water, he takes you out on a date. He fumbles through the entire thing, panics because he thinks he blew it, still manages to get you home, gets ridden for the first time in like 6 years, and can't walk straight for an entire day and stammers every time someone asks him why.
JAVIER GUTIERREZ
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Javi G loves it. He loves watching you. Gets all puppy dog wide eyed (remember the pool scene face??? Thats it.) and you have to really focus because his look of straight up wonder and awe and bright eyed eagerness makes you want to cry. He's panting like he's running a marathon, running his big hands EVERYWHERE he can reach. He makes you feel worshipped and adored and so very very loved. Thanks you after. For being so amazing, and so wonderful to him, and thanks the universe that he found you. Cause he's sap. You definitely cry after.
JOEL MILLER
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(Watch me be controversial again) Joel is fucking tired okay? He has old man bones and creaky joints and his back is achy. Patrol was agony, Jesse wouldn't shut up the entire time, and Tommy was giving him shit, and he has no energy to drill anyone into the mattress (as much as we all want him to). He's just plain tired. He likes you on top. Likes it slow (like a roast chicken on a sunday slow). Enjoys the gradual build up, likes to lean back, watch with half open eyes as you take your time. Wants to indulge in something beautiful at the end of the world, and that something is you. He makes sexy grunting noises, mutters a whole lot of praise ~and filth~ and just y'know. Savours it. 🫠🫠🫠 savours you. 🫠
DIETER BRAVO
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Dieter is a maniac. (Leave him alone he has adhd!!) He can't still still for the life of him so you best believe he changes positions 6 times and the only way you're getting to ride is if you're also putting some weight elsewhere. To hold him down! You squeeze his neck once and he MELTS. INSTANTLY. Loses all sense. Starts babbling and whimpering and making extremely pathetic noises. Will definitely buck up and whine. PRAISES YOU. BEGGING. LOUD NOISES.
MAX PHILLIPS
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Max is a heathen. He just likes watching you bounce. That's it. That's the post :p
MARCUS PIKE
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Marcus P is a romantic. He will be doing the whole "lean forward and try to get kisses in between" while also "moaning and maintaining eye contact" and he's holding you so tight , squeezing your sides and also muttering declarations of love. About how he wants a life with you, and a family, and a home, and a future. How he's going to "make you so happy baby, I promise I will, I swear to you". Doesn't let you off for from on top of him for atleast a half hour after; kissing all over your face and rubbing your back and petting your hair "I meant all of it sweetheart. I want all of you." shsbzgwgsvsg ilovehimsomuch and I've only ever seen gifsets of this man what is wrong with me
MARCUS MORENO
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Marcus M is A MENACE. He wears his stupid glasses, and has his stupid shirt off, while he does stupid taxes/meeting plans in bed. You keep throwing side glances and getting increasingly wound up and he just has this gentle smirk but he's mostly ignoring you. You sidle up to him and maybe start kissing his jaw, laying gentle pecks down his neck, and he's still fukcungh working "Baby. I need to finish this. I'm sorry, you need to wait." But that smirk is still there and it's driving you crazy and maybe you keep kissing until you reach his *coughs* and then you're working on getting him interested. You can still hear the fucking pen scratching though and so you go deeper, and he raises an eyebrow. "be good now honey" You're settling in his lap and he has you sitting there until he has finished his paperwork with you whimpering and trying not to squirm because you want to be good you really do and you know he'll make it so much better but he feels so good and when he's finally finally done you get to move but you're so wound up you can't pull yourself together enough to find a rhythm and you're nearly in tears and he has to grip your sides and murmur instructions in your ear and help you until you're satisfied and just when you think he's done, and about to flip you over, he adjusts his grip and starts moving from underneath you until you're crying and he's finished ~which doesnt happen until you've come 2 more times~
DAVE YORK
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Dave. Oh my gosh Dave. Dave is a strict dom if ever there was one. With him it's a punishment. He'll tell you to hold off until he's done which is freaking impossible with how deep he gets, and how he likes to warm up his hands on your butt while you're trying desperately to hold onto that last thread of control. He is muttering absolute filth, holding your arms behind your back with one hand while the other is either laying smack after smack or rubbing you furiously all the while he's got the smuggest look. "Don't you dare baby. Be a good girl now. Listen and obey for once". But you can't because he's not fair and he knows it. And when you do finally fall apart he's clenching his teeth trying to hold back himself and his hands are holding you up as you gasp his name like it's the only word you know. He's running his hands down your back and kissing you softly and helping you catch your breath and when you finally get your heart to stop pounding and look up at him, he's watching you with this dangerously soft smile and he goes "oh you're in for it now aren't you honey?" and kisses your forehead while you try not to whimper.
FRANKIE MORALES
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Frankie is a soft boy. He loves it. Craves it. He loves giving up control. Wants you to tie him up and have your way until he has no thoughts left in that pretty little head. He is swearing like an absolute sailor the entire time, calling you ma'am, begging to be released so he can kiss you and touch you, absolutely nearly breaks the head board once he was so desperate. Wants to be edged but also is the biggest WIMP about it. Will pout and swear and beg and plead but then want you to deny him again. Will definitely be mumbling absolute nonsense once you're done. Needs all the aftercare. Blushes pink when he gets it. Wraps himself around you like a HUGE koala bear after. ~and returns the edging favour 3 times over when he gets in his Captain Francisco Morales Mood~
JACK DANIELS
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BONUS TWO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT and tumblr won't let me put gifs for:
Jack makes every single cowboy joke known to man. You have to put your hand on his mouth to get him to shut the hell up. His eyes get all glassy when you do. He puts his hat on top of your head and busies himself in your neck (dual benefits: A. He shuts up and B. HICKIES) will definitely drag you on top of him in his Bronco (he likes to show off) will pull up on the side of the road almost 70% of the times you drive together. Bites you over your clothes. Loves the way you grab desperately at this leather jacket. Definitely makes you bend over and 'clean up the mess sugar' before driving like the hounds of hell are after him all the way back home and doing it all over again because "we gotta make you a mama now love"
PERO TOVAR
Pero got married after he came back and retired as a sell sword. His wife is a soft but sassy thing who's a little (read: not at all, she returns his snark twice over) intimidated by him but also thinks he's a good man because he saved her village from raiders. She has seen him grumble and snark at but then also share his food with the orphans who works at the village inn. She's inexperienced (let me live my victorian life) and he doesn't really think he deserves her but also he's not so much an idiot to say no to someone like her. She's the village "healer" and he met her when he got stabbed by one of the raiders (arm wound: not serious.) He has to teach her. She gets shy and flustered, which is a total 180 from her sassy self, and Pero loves it. She makes the most amazing sounds that have him thinking that maybe he did something right in his life to end up in her arms. She wants to please her new husband and asks her married friends for advice and they tell her about this new position. So she asks him, stuttering and tripping over words, if she could try something she heard about? From a friend? She straddles him and Pero loses his mind. He's closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard and she's whimpering in the most DELICIOUS way and he's trying so hard to hold back and let her take her pace and she's so worried "am I not doing it right?" Pero has to take 3 deep breaths before he's centred enough to answer and then he helps her. Puts his hands on her hips to guide her. Puts one of her hands on his shoulder "steady now pequenita" and puts the other low on her belly and presses in so she can feel him. Loves the way she cries out. Bends forward to leave little marks everywhere he can reach. She's scrambling at his chest, leaving nail marks he loves, and finally grabbing his hair and pulling until he groans. And when they're both done and sated and sweaty he kisses her, looks her in the eye and winks. "I'm going to have to go thank your friend now, mi esposa."
DIN DJARIN
Din and you dont have time. The razor crest is finally in hyperspace, you got shot at for the 50th time in 2 weeks, (because Murphys Law seems to be the only law Mando never breaks), you're exhausted, sweaty, and the giggly green monster of chaos only made you chase him down from the top of a weapons cabinet twice before he finally decided to take a nap. You're frustrated, and in desperate need of a shower, and a nap, but also you can't get the image of Mando fighting out of your head. Before you know it, the hormones have taken over and you're attacking him in the pilot seat. The bucket is off (I refuse to look at my own reflection in the tin cans helmet while we do the do), he's got you arching into him, your shirt is half torn from the top because Din refuses to wait for "so many fucking buttons Meshla" the gloved hand is squeezing the back of your neck, his mouth is on your chest, his other hand (you only managed to get one glove off) is splayed out on your back. You're riding him like you're trying to break him and his thigh holster? thing (do i look like i can figure out what they're called?) is digging marks into your skin but you're too turned on to care. It's frantic, it's messy, you're PRAYING the tiny green menace stays asleep as you do your best to muffle your sounds. The refresher isn't big enough for a round two, (you still do your best), and your legs feel like jelly, when you finally pass out; curled up on top of the human space heater while he hums Mando'a in your ear.
*****
TAGGING: @chronically-ghosted (you are a menace but ily)
@fuckyeahdindjarin (here I go trying that writing thing again, stop me pls)
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ddejavvu · 7 months
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asking anakin to pin you to the wall or choke you using the force 🥵
mei i would BEG him on my hands and knees
so this covers inappropriate uses of the force that go far beyond choking because i have far too many thoughts on the concept and couldn't stop myself there, oops!
obvious cw for choking/restraint, don't read if it will bother you.
this post is 18+, minors dni.
well we definitely know he doesn't have an aversion to force-choking !! he's very tactile, and he most likely already has asked, or you've asked him, to choke you during sex. he loves it. he loves feeling the rush of your blood under his hand, he loves feeling your life sitting completely bare beneath his fingers like that, his hand against your skin. with his flesh hand, which soaks up the heat of your neck as he slowly wraps his fingers around you, squeezing until he can feel your heart thumping wildly through your pulse and smothering his skin into your warmth. with his prosthetic hand, which is chilly and unrelenting without its leather glove, and darkly sexy with it. It doesn't matter which hand he uses, he gets remarkably turned on by the way that you lean into it, the way that you bare your neck- your life for him to use like a plaything.
you'd watched him crumple a can of booze with the Force the other day; something cheap he'd wasted his credits on for the thrill of it. his gloved hand had formed the shape of the can, then squeezed inward gracefully, and the metal had crumpled formlessly into a mangled wreck that Anakin had slipped through a rather narrow trash compactor opening. He'd only done it to avoid getting caught with the liquor, but your throat stings when you think about the way that his black glove had tightened slowly, deliberately, mercilessly around nothingness as the can crumpled.
you have to ask him.
you had meant to have a discussion with him about it, a structured, clear conversation about whether he was comfortable with it, not only the act but the blatant disrespect of the code by a rather improper use of the Force. but he'd gotten handsy after returning from a day of sparring, and when his hand reaches for your throat, hips pumping steadily against your own and driving his cock into you forcefully with each thrust, you reach up to stop it.
You clutch at his hand and pull it away from your neck, eyes pleading as he stares worriedly down at you. He lets you deter him from your neck, thrusts petering out into a slow rhythm when you whine after he stops them altogether.
"What's wrong?" He asks bluntly, because anakin has never beaten around the bush, "Why can't I choke you?"
"I want you to," You clear your suddenly dry throat, ready to explain but yanking his hand back down when he tries resuming his original endeavor, "Wait- Anakin, I want you to use the Force!"
that stops him. your core aches and begs for him to resume his steady thrusting, but he's sheathed himself completely in your cunt, so you're stuffed to the brim while he contemplates your words. You feel bad for putting him on the spot, but his eyes darken a shade as some of the light leaves them, and his brow twitches.
"What?"
"I want you to choke me with the Force," You repeat, craning your neck down to kiss at the black leather pads of his gloved fingers, "Please, Anakin, I- I just want- just like you do normally, but with the Force. I know it's- improper, and- and disrespectful to the Force, but-"
All of a sudden, your lungs freeze in their pursuit of oxygen, and words fail you. Your chest is still, no air entering or escaping, and Anakin's fingers twitch slightly where he loosens his disembodied grip on your windpipe just enough for you to take in a proper breath.
"I am the Force," He speaks through gritted teeth, and his words flood your core with heat just as much as the relentless grip on your throat does, "Holding back would be disrespectful." He leans over you, his hand maintaining both pressure and distance as he fits his body around it. He remains fully immersed in your cunt, his dick stuffed inside of you as you clench around him desperately, and his breath is hot on your face as he towers above you.
"Not telling me what you want, would be disrespectful." He lectures, eyes only growing darker as you feel your lungs burning in your chest. You gasp for air, only able to drag in a miniscule amount as he continues closing his fingers around your windpipe, "I never feel closer to the Force than when I am inside of you. I am the Force, we are the Force, and hiding anything that would strengthen that force would be disrespectful."
You take in another rattling breath, but his fingers cut you off completely, sending a bolt of overwhelming pleasure to your core as the leather of his glove creaks slightly with the twitch of his fingers.
"Understand?" He asks, and you nod vigorously.
"Speak." He commands, loosening his grip so that you can gush, 'Yes! Yes, Anakin, I understand!"
"Good." He seals off your airway once more, that delicious burning feeling transferring straight from your chest to your cunt, your thighs trembling slightly as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
the two of you share intense orgasms that night, both now enamored by this concept. it's a complete power trip for anakin, the fact that he doesn't even have to touch you to have your life in his hands? his hand doesn't need to contact your skin for it to get you hot and bothered, he can turn you on from a mile away.
this might be a problem for you, though. because anakin is nothing if not creative and inventive, which means that you feel invisible fingers gently nudging themselves against your cunt one day. you're at home, anakin's reading through a report while you're curled up watching something, but you startle at the touch nonetheless, eyes peeled for whatever had touched you.
you notice anakin's hand poised with two fingers outstretched, that dark glint in his eyes once more as he leans back in his chair. he nudges his fingers forwards again, and you feel that prodding at your core, an embarrassingly intense gush of raw lust aching below your stomach.
"Anakin..." You warn, but you're not sure if the apprehension is leveled at him, or yourself. warning him to be careful, warning yourself to maintain composure, neither work.
He strokes his fingers slightly back and forth, rubbing down the length of your slit, then ending at your clit. it's such a familiar sensation but unnervingly new at the same time, and you can't withhold your gasp as he pushes ever so slightly to breach the tension of your lips. with a twitch of his finger he rubs against your clit and though you're woefully underlubricated, all he has to do is continue running those tantalizingly invisible fingers over your core and soon enough you're clenching around emptiness that's quickly filled with his nonexistent fingers.
it's a strange sensation, but anakin's eyes are glued predatorily to the way that your cunt widens and narrows with every pump of his fingers, and his hand twitches in mid-air as he brings you towards your climax. he's mesmerized, he's never been able to see such an unobstructed view of your convulsing cunt before, and you'll be lucky to escape from his relentless fingers before you're nearly passed out in exhaustion from cumming so many times in a row. he studies you, gets down on his knees in front of the couch to peer transfixed into your cunt as he finger-fucks you with a hand that isn't there. he's now addicted to force-fucking you, so expect it to happen at rather inopportune times.
another favorite tactic of his is to force your mouth open with just a wave of his hand. he loves to see you choking yourself on his cock but you've both discovered there's something deeply sexy about being restrained, and instead of just kneeling above your face and throat-fucking you, he decides to take your mouth with the Force. he holds it ajar, the perfect circumference for his cock, and fucks your mouth, using that invisible appendage to keep your lips parted as you gag and sob on him. your hands fly up to grab at his hips but you're not trying to push him off, no, you're yanking him forwards, dragging him down, begging him to stuff his leaking, twitching cock even further down your throat. even when he cums down your throat and releases his hold on your mouth you leave it hanging open, panting with the effort of simply breathing, and trying to wrap your head around just how fucking hot what he just did was.
if/when you ask him to pin you to the wall, he's so fucking cocky about it. these insufferable smirks as he pushes you up against it, pinning your limbs in place and leaning in to talk with his nose brushed against yours.
'Yeah? You want me to hold you down, baby? You want me to take whatever I want from you, don't you?'
you nod, the only part of your body still at your free will being your head, and it bumps against the wall in your vigor but you don't care. all you care about is letting him take control of you, is being splayed out on the wall like a trophy for him, and letting him do whatever he pleases.
'Good,' he leans in to kiss you, hot and wet and careless and sloppy, 'Good, angel. Maker, I'm obsessed with you. You're so good, so pretty-" as he trails his hand across your still torso, his thumb dipping between your legs to nudge fondly over your clit, 'you're mine.'
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localemofreak · 11 days
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Honeymoon In Vegas.
(Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)
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(A/n: there’s no music to this, just a little blurb I thought of because- idk, it sounded rad and dumb and sexy in my head.. anywayyyysss- enjoy. Also I’m sorry if it’s super short- I wasn’t really trying to think of anything for this- 😭)
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Story: it’s just a little- I mean very tiny dorky blurb of a part of your little honeymoon with Eddie in the city of Viva Las Vegas, Nevada.
‼️WARNINGS‼️: use of y/n, heavy mention of smut, sexual references, some fluff, reader and Eddie are in their honeymoon phase, mentions of nudity, Eddie acting like a horny dork, it’s giving black cat reader and golden retriever Eddie, not that much going on since I’m lazy but thought of this, etc. (if I forgot something, please tell me!!)
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It had been about three days since you and Eddie decided to officially tie the knot in Vegas while on a little break during his tour..
And it had also been about three days of you and him being trapped in the fancy hotel suite- that was now completely trashed, that you had been spending your little honeymoon weekend in.
All you two have been doing for the past three days has just been having sex, not even really taking a break to try and go out and do things.
You have been just completely cooped up with Eddie- who’s little horny lovemaking machine didn’t seem to be breaking down anytime soon.
It’s not like you had a true problem against him wanting to fuck nonstop- it’s not like he was bad at all, in fact he was quite the opposite.
It’s just after a few days of nonstop love making, you needed a moment to just take a break- do something else besides lay in that bed with your legs feeling completely numb.
Currently, you had decided to get up from the bed where Eddie was laying down next to you slightly sprawled out, his breathing heavy and his chest heaving up and down after round- whatever you guys were on, you honestly stop keeping track at this point.
You were starting to feel hungry, so you decided to get up finally to grab some breakfast.
Your legs honestly just felt like complete jelly at that moment, and you looked like a complete mess- runny makeup, hair everywhere, hickies that littered the skin of your neck.
You honestly looked completely spent- and at that moment, you felt like it to be honest.
As Eddie laid there collecting himself, you had decided to slowly and carefully try to bring yourself to stand up.
Your legs wobbled a little bit but you managed to keep yourself from falling- and the room spun a little as you tried to get the blood to rush through your legs a little since it had been a second since you actually stood up.
As you glanced around, you noticed how trashed the bedroom of the suite was.
There was empty bottles of alcohol and condom wrappers everywhere- also don’t forget the clothes and just overall trash scattered all over.
You could hear Eddie mumbling a little bit as he laid on the messy looking mattress- which you decided to ignore as you grabbed a robe to wrap around your naked body.
As soon as you got yourself somewhat covered, you decided to slowly shuffle out of the little room and into the living room of the suite- that was also connected to the kitchen.
As you slowly shuffled your way into the living room- you noticed how even more trashy it looked.
It was a complete mess- just beer bottles, wine bottles, vodka bottles, all empty and scattered around the place.
Things were thrown around, couch cushions were on the ground and there was trash everywhere.
You knew before you two had left you both would have a big job on picking this shit up so that you wouldn’t get in trouble for basically destroying the room.
After standing there for a moment, assessing the damage with what your tired eyes could see- you soon shuffled your way over to the kitchen to sit down.
A tired sigh escaped from your lips as you sat down, your hands moving to run over your face as you leaned against your elbows on the table- just trying to get yourself all together.
After sitting there for a moment, just trying to collect your thoughts and relax- you soon heard the sound of feet shuffling against the floor mixed with a tired groan.
Eddie had gotten up obviously, seeing you had gotten up- that automatically meant he had to follow you.
You picked your head up from your hands as you glanced over with tired eyes, seeing Eddie wrapped in nothing but a robe.
His hair was messy and slightly all over the place, and his bangs were slightly stuck to his forehead as he scratched at his head while a yawn escaped from his mouth.
“I see you’re up-” you mumbled out, causing Eddie to nod his head and give a little tired but cheeky smirk while he made his way over to you.
“How’s my sexy little wifeee~” he hummed out with a slight chuckle, his body leaning forward to press his head into the crook of your neck.
As you felt his lips kissing at your neck, you just let out a tired sigh and shook your head, your hands pushing at his half covered tattooed chest since he didn’t really tie the robe around his body fully- it kind of just hung to his body.
“Eddie- please, let’s just take a break for a moment.. I want breakfast-” you got out while Eddie pulled his head out of the crook of your neck, a slight chuckle falling from his lips as he just hummed in response.
“Alright, alright- fine, what do you want?” He said, his hands moving to fix the robe he was wearing a little bit but it still wasn’t covering much.
“I just want food- I don’t care what it is..” you muttered out, obviously just hungry as you gave him a little pout- which he couldn’t help but find adorable.
“Hm, I think sausage sounds nice don’t yah sweetie?” He hummed out, the smirk on his face getting wider as he just decided to be an ass and place his semi hard dick down on the table in front of you.
You could hear the small snicker fall from his lips which caused you to roll your eyes as you tried your best to hide the grin trying to appear on your face.
“Eddie- come onnn..” you whined out, which caused him to quickly put his dick back into his robe as he put his hands up in surrender.
“Okay, okay- fine, seriously- nowwww what to do you want??” He questioned, this time actually being genuine as he crossed his arms lightly over his chest while leaning back against the counter of the kitchen.
You just sat there for a moment, your eyes glancing to look up at him as he stood there.
You couldn’t help but admire him- even though he looked like a mess right now, he still looked absolutely beautiful.
“…sausage actually does sound nice- the actual thing though..” you mumbled out, which caused Eddie to crack a dumb little smirk.
“Whatever you want my love~” he hummed out while standing up from leaning back against the counter, which caused you to crack a wide grin up at him as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.
“I love you Eddie-” you said, looking up at him as he smirked down at you before making his way towards the stove to make you breakfast.
“I love you more y/n, my beautiful wife..” he hummed out while your eyes stayed on him- the wide grin on your face as you just admired him.
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(A/n: I’m so sorry if this is short- I just felt like making the tiniest little shit blurb and I made it- also sorry if it’s kinda bad, I’m just very lazy and kinda out of it, but I also hope you liked it 😭)
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