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#pale pink best color
beneaththeshadows · 1 year
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Rhaena Targaryen and Morning
Rhaena and Morning to go with that Baela and Moondancer I did previously, and let me tell you, I hate the way I colored it, but ok
(the image quality is trash, I know)
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kimsmingyu-archive · 7 months
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need a nail color for my appointment tomorrow
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katnissgirlsmakedo · 8 months
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stores have got to switch up the colors of all the college dorm type shit they sell. seeing all that mint green pale pink gray white turquoise shit gives me like. war flashbacks at this point. those shades of turquoise and pale pink will haunt me to the end of time come on target you have to get different colors of plastic at some point
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revvywevvy · 1 year
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i was messing around with the mod more and put together another outfit <3 gosh she's pretty
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plus her 2p
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barefoot-joker · 2 months
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Snake in the Garden~Yandere! Lucifer X Reader
Hey, guys! I hope you all are well! Today I bring you a Yandere! Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) story. I do apologize if he's OOC, I tried to make him a bit suave. I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!
Words: 2105
Warnings: Snakes, Kidnapping, Swearing
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
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I hummed as I slipped on my straw hat and sandals. Today was gardening day and I was very excited to be outside. My garden was my passion. It was something to look forward to each day after work. It was especially nice in the eighty degree weather we were having, cool breezes making it bearable to be outside. 
Grabbing my metal bucket with my shears, trowel, and gloves, I made my way out the back door of my house. My neighbor Terry was sitting on his porch rocking in his chair, basking in the sunshine. When he saw me he waved. “Yello, Y/n! Enjoying the day?”
“Of course! How about you Mr. Johnson?”
“Oh you know, just taking a sunbath while the wife is out grocery shopping. If you catch my drift.”
“Perfectly.”
“Well have fun, little lady!”
“Will do, thank you!”
I gave a simple wave and headed towards my small garden. It wasn’t the most spectacular thing, only having five or six rows of vegetables, but I was so proud of my little paradise. I set my bucket down and walked down the row of beans, inspecting each one. My humming continued as I began picking and gently setting the vegetables in my pail. As I was working I heard something hissing. Confused, I looked around and didn’t see anything. I turned back to my work. It was silent for a moment until the hissing continued. I glanced around when suddenly my eyes caught sight of something white in the bushes. I stood up and walked over, pushing the foliage to the side. I gasped when I saw a white snake, its pale pink underbelly had a large gash. I slowly reached down and stroked its back. The snake turned its head, the red eyes staring me down. “Hey there, little fellow. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt ya.”
As I continued to stroke its back, the snake must have understood my message. “Let’s get you patched up, little guy.”
I gently grabbed a hold and made sure to cradle him close. Walking back inside, I set him in my kitchen sink and went to grab supplies. I made my way to the bathroom where I grabbed some gauze and disinfectant from a cupboard. I then returned back to the kitchen. I lifted my scaly friend to flip him over and started to rub some disinfectant on his gash. I grabbed some paper towel and dabbed it dry. “Almost done, little fellow.”
Ripping off some gauze, I carefully wrapped it around the wound. Tying it off, I sealed it with a kiss from the fingertips. “And, all done! Not my best work, but it’ll do.”
The snake’s tongue flicked out in appreciation. “You know what? I think I’ll name you Red. You know, after your very beautiful red eyes!”
The white snake hissed and slithered closer to the edge of the sink. I picked him up and cuddled him close as we walked back outside. When we made it to my garden I gently let him down before I went back to work. Red stayed the whole time I was outside, slithering alongside me. When it was my time to head inside, I said my goodbyes and watched him slither back into the bushes.
After my run in with Red I would see him every time I entered my garden. I would lay out some greenery for him to eat and some water to drink all the time. He would even wrap himself around my arms as I worked. One day as I was preparing my small table, Red came out of the bushes as per usual. He slithered up my leg and I couldn’t help but giggle. “Red, that tickles! Stop! I have to get this ready!”
He just stayed there. “You silly boy.”
I caressed the top of his head and set up my nice (favorite color) tablecloth. Just as I was placing two mugs down, I heard a male voice call my name. Red slid off my leg and curled down by the table leg. I turned to see my boyfriend s/o standing at my back door. “S/o!”
I ran at him and gave a big hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“Me too. We’ve been planning this little lunch date for a while.”
I led him over to the table and we sat. “I made us some tea. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, honey. You know I’m down to try anything.”
We both took a sip from our cups. “So, how has your garden been going?”
“Pretty well actually. All of my vegetables have been thriving, which is nice. I even met a new friend!”
“A new friend? Well I’d love to meet them.”
“Hold on one second.”
I leaned under the table and gently picked up my snake buddy. “This is Red. Isn’t he gorgeous? I’ve never seen a snake with a pink underbelly before.”
“Me neither. Can I see him?”
“Of course!”
I started to hand him over when suddenly Red struck forward and sunk his fangs into S/o’s hand. “Ow! God dammit that hurt!”
“Red!”
I set him down and gently took my boyfriend’s hand. “Are you alright?”
“No, your fucking snake bit me!”
I sucked on my teeth. “It does look bad. Here, let’s take you to the clinic.”
We stood up and walked to my car. I had him sit in the passenger seat while I drove.
Hours later I had dropped off S/o at his apartment. We had gotten him some antibiotics and luckily Red wasn’t poisonous. Thank god. I sighed as I slipped off my shoes and walked into my living room. I was looking at the floor when suddenly I let out a gasp. Standing staring at some of the photos on my wall was a short man, his back towards me. From what I could see he wore a big white hat, white and red jacket, white puffy pants and tall black boots. At the sound of me entering, the man turned and I couldn’t help but let out another gasp. The stranger had white skin, short blonde hair and red circles on his cheeks. His red eyes were quite striking as they seemed to stare into my soul. “Ah Y/n, you’re back! Jolly good.”
“W-who are you?”
A black cane with an apple on top magically appeared and the man gave a theatrical bow. “How rude of me. My name is Lucifer dear, but you’re probably more familiar with calling me Red.”
“R-red? But you’re a person and he was a snake…wait a minute. Lucifer? As in the Devil?”
He let out a dark chuckle and I stepped back upon seeing the two rows of sharp teeth. “Exactly!”
I gulped and ran off, trying to head for my front door. I screamed when he appeared in front of me, but this time dressed in green. I bolted towards my back door but he reappeared, this time in red. A few more Lucifers in different colored clothes surrounded me, parting to let the original through. “Look Mr. Satan sir, I didn’t summon you, nobody sacrificed me, nothing like that! Why don’t you just return to Hell and forget this ever happened!”
His cane came up under my chin and lifted my head to look into his eyes. “And forget the lovely lady that helped me? Not a chance! I was lucky I stumbled upon you that day. You see, I had gotten into a fight with a contractor and he got quite a few hits in. I got away with a stomach wound and that’s when I slithered into your life. You patched me up and made me whole!”
His face got closer to mine as he told his tale, our noses almost touching. “You’re so intoxicating, dear. Just like the apple I offered to Eve.”
My breath hitched as his lips got close. “Okay, I helped you. Now why can’t you just go away?”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why not? Please, leave me alone.”
A few tears collected in the corners of my eyes and he was quick to wipe them away. “I’ll explain in due time. But I’ve wasted enough time. We need to get going.”
“Going?”
“Yes! You’re coming to Hell with me!”
My eyes widened and I attempted to flee. His arm wrapped around my waist and with the other he waved his cane in the air. Golden dust began to accumulate on the floor, swooshing around and around until a portal formed. The arm around my waist forced me to walk with him. He threw his cane into the air and like magic it disappeared. “Now this may cause a slight headache but I’ll be sure to tend to it when we arrive.”
“No please-”
“In we go!”
He forced us to jump forward and I let out a shriek. I tightly closed my eyes and my stomach lifted into my throat as we fell. This feeling stayed until I landed on something soft. My body was tense as I slowly opened my eyes. It seemed we had landed in a foyer of sorts. The large marble fireplace had a roaring blaze going and from what I could see out the large Victorian windows it was night outside. The dark red clouds swirled like my nerves as I watched Lucifer fluff his jacket. He turned to me and smiled. “I apologize if I frightened you, my dear. It wasn’t my intention. I know first time portal jumping can be quite tedious.”
He adjusted his hat before sitting next to me on the deep red velvet chaise lounge. “Now then I know you skipped lunch since you took your little boy toy to the hospital, so how about some dinner? I can cook a mean steak!”
The situation was starting to be too much to handle and I couldn’t help the sobs that wracked my body. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Shh, shh. There, there.”
Lucifer wrapped his arms around me in a hug and I could feel his claws combing my hair. “It’s alright, little apple. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
He just made me cry harder. “I just want to go home!”
“This is your home now. I know it’ll take some getting used to, but I promise if you give Hell a chance you’ll forget all about silly Earth and that wretched boyfriend of yours.”
His claws dug in a bit when he brought up S/o. It made me shudder. “But he doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here for you and that’s most important.”
He pulled away slightly to wipe at my eyes, his touch gentle compared to before. “You know what will cheer you up? A nice cup of spiced hot cocoa! I’ll be right back.”
He stood and made his way towards the white door. Before leaving he gave me a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”
The door shut softly. As soon as he was gone I quickly looked around trying to find an exit. I spotted a door opposite me. I ran to it, threw it open, and rushed out of the room. My legs carried me far as I dashed through the spiraling halls, rushing down a grand staircase, and arriving at what I assumed was the front door. I yanked them open and before I could step out an angry hiss made me pause. Two large golden snakes sat on the doorstep and stared me down harshly. I slammed the door shut and urged myself to breathe slower. “I see you’ve met David and Goliath.”
My head shot up to see Lucifer standing there without his jacket, a faint smirk on his lips. “Why the heck do you have giant snakes on your property?!”
“To protect us. Being the rulers of Hell comes with a target on your back.”
“What do you mean rulers?”
“I brought you here for a reason, Y/n, silly goose!” 
He began walking towards me. “I intend to court you and make you my Queen. I’ve been alone for seven years. My wife and I split and my daughter and I don’t have the best relationship. However, I intend to rectify that, my sweet apple. You and I are going to be together forever.”
He stopped in front of me and held my face in his hands, thumbs gently rubbing my cheekbones. My heart sank as I realized I wasn’t getting out of this any time soon and the look of adoration in Lucifer’s eyes made that fact.
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soumies · 3 months
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ f. megumi x gn!reader. if there are any typos, no there aren't.
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keeping secrets was not your forte.
so when december rolls around and yuuji sends you a message about a very top secret, very hush-hush, very much surprise party... well. really, that was his mistake.
you've been avoiding megumi like the plague, coming up with nonsense excuses not to see him, making plans to occupy your time, keeping texts and calls short. guilt gnaws at you, making your stomach clench as you watch your phone ring, ring, ring. megumi's contact picture shortly disappearing.
you sigh, wiping your wet hands with the kitchen towel. mini cakes and chocolates sit on the countertop, cooling. icings and sprinkles in all his favorite colors are lined up next to the stove, waiting to be piped and handed off to your lover with a sweet kiss and a mumbled happy birthday against his lips.
a frantic knock sounds at your front door, drawing your brows together as you make your way across your apartment living room. it's probably yuuji again, hoping your had more tape or an extra pair of scissors.
what you're not expecting when you open the door is a panting megumi with ruddy cheeks and snowflakes melting in his hair. there's a scarf haphazardly strewn across his shoulders, and his mittens are missing, knuckles gone red from the bite of winter.
“you mad at me or something?” it comes out rushed, spilling from his mouth before he even says hello. he stands in your doorway, deep, green eyes boring into yours.
"megumi, wha—" you gape, like a fish out of water.
"mad. are you mad at me?" he presses, an uncharacteristic franticness lacing his voice that refuses to leave. "did i say something wrong?" he eyes the ground where he stops himself from shaking the snow off his boots, shoulders slumping forward.
"i just—" megumi sighs, cheeks going pinker and you're sure it's not from the cold. "gojo has held me hostage all day, kugisaki won't stop blowing up my phone, i have a feeling itadori's doing something he shouldn't be, and—"
tentatively, megumi brings his gaze back to you, with your wide eyes and mouth hung open on words that won't come out. soft is how you'd describe it, his whispered plea in the form of such a simple, simple question, "where have you been?"
the wind howls outside, a gust of chilled air tousling megumi's already messy head of hair. he pays it no mind when you're standing in front of him, your own hair tied back and a dirty apron covering your front. you have half a mind to fling yourself down the stairs he just climbed to get to you, because you've really messed up if you're the one who's put that expression on his face.
you'll blame it all on yuuji. you tell him as much.
megumi's brow pinches, mostly in confusion but also annoyance because, "what does he have to do with this?"
"everything," you groan, cursing the pink-haired boy out in your head. "he should've known better," you mutter, rolling your eyes and running a hand over your face.
the gears turn and turn and turn in his head, you can see them as he overthinks, as his skin turns pale. the wind howls again. "itadori... did you guys—?" he can't even finish his sentence. megumi thinks he's going to be sick.
"oh my god, no. megumi, no." you heave, blood running cold because you did not cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend! finally, your brain starts functioning again and you pull him inside, grabbing the lapels of his black winter coat.
he stumbles in your grip, a shocked little noise escaping him when you wrap your arms around him, shoving your head into his chest. "it's nothing like that. i'd never do that to you. we'd never do that to you." he deflates in your embrace, running his cold hands up your spine and into your hair, holding you close.
"then what is it? i've hardly seen you lately," he comments, concern seeping into his voice.
"i can't tell you," you whine, burrowing further into him in hopes of getting away from the guilt that reaches for you.
"hey," he whispers, gently pulling you away so he can look in your eyes, frustration swirling in your irises. "is something wrong?" damn him for being so gentle with you.
you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "no," you punch out, "well– yes, but. uuugh!" you groan again, high-pitched and frazzled as you screw your eyes shut. it wasn't supposed to be like this. a silly surprise party shouldn't have you this stressed, shouldn't have your boyfriend running in the middle of winter to see you because you can't keep your mouth shut.
"talk to me."
"i can't," you insist again, but this time steeling yourself with a deep breath. "but i promise, everything is fine. i've just been busy wrapping up some last minute things. i think the cakes should be ready soon for the party tonight, i just have to—"
oh, for heaven's sake.
"party?" you can hear the amusement in his voice.
your face falls. "i really can't keep anything from you, can i?" defeated, you lean into him once more, cheek squished against his shoulder as megumi holds back his laugh. "happy birthday, megs. i'm sorry for being shitty today," you sigh, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his still-cold cheek.
"it's okay," he murmurs into your hairline. strong arms snake around your torso, cradling you against him like you're something precious. "you're talking about the party at 7, right? the one at maki's place?" his chest rumbles as he speaks, teasing words curling around your bodies.
with an incredulous huff, you whine into his skin, "you knew?"
he has the gall to scoff at you, like it was painfully obvious this whole time. his right hand comes to cup the side of your face, pulling your jaw forward to plant a chaste kiss to your lips. "of course i knew, baby. itadori can't keep a secret to save his life."
you're really going to kill him.
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rb to add a candle to his birthday cake. hope you enjoyed this! <333
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chrollohearttags · 8 months
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hershey kisses • armin artlert
armin gives his special girl an orgasm like she’s never had..
content warning + themes: nipple play, p!rn without plot, nipple orgasm, queer bestie armin bc I love him sm, black fem reader, creaming, reader is ovulating, clit rubbing, squirting, ear nibbling, armin being a soft dom (and so hot), back kissing/licking, use of pretty girl, sweetheart and mama
📝: I couldn’t stop thinking about armin + him being a pleasure dom and just caring for his bestie. Like I’m sitting here melting 🥹🥹
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“Here, open your legs, baby..I promise, you’ll like it.”
“Are you sure, Armie? I don’t know about thisss..”
words emitted with a whiny laugh as you sat between the legs of your best friend. Back pressed to his chest and his leaning against your Victorian style headboard..painted in off white, cream coloring and lined with pastel pink pillows and stuffed animals. His tattoos and metal nipple piercings grazing your gorgeous skin. Honestly, he couldn’t believe that the two of you were actually here again…touching all over one another when all it did was lead to more trouble. Even so, you guys always ended up like this: hot, bothered and naked, making out and fucking after coming from a night out at the club or a long week of work. Over the past few months, since the inception of this little entanglement, you and Armin had learned a lot about each other. He had discovered that he leaned more towards being pansexual, rather than outright gay. He felt far more comfortable embracing fluidity in his sexuality and you?
“Relax, sweetheart. Have I ever led you wrong? I mean, you said it yourself that nobody makes you feel the way I can.” cooing to you with gentle kisses trailing along your neck..gentle hands grazing your bare shoulder blades as you had just left the shower..feeling refreshed and warm. Wrapped up in nothing more than a towel that he so delicately removed from your frame..he could sit there and admire you for hours without growing tired.
“You smell so good..and your skin, it’s so soft. You been using my stuff again?” Referring to the peach scented body cream he kept alongside his countless other skin care products he kept in his bathroom. But he didn’t mind. You wore it so much better than him anyways..including the shimmery butter that made your cocoa complexion glistening underneath the pale LED lighting. Besides, you could get away with anything when you smiled at him like that. “And if I was?..” retorting with a soft giggle before turning to kiss him. Your lips met a gentle peck, letting your tongues collide in a passionate barrage of kisses. As you made out, Armin slowly began to snake his arms around to your front. Those big, supple breasts cradled in his veiny hands; perfectly manicured and neat, decorated with silver rings. Suddenly, your breath would hitch in the back of your throat. Those sensitive nipples getting pinched by his fingertips and massages delicately.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to do this..”
what exactly that was? You weren’t sure yet but you’d know soon enough. The friction between your buds and his pads pressing together..rubbing slowly to create and drum up tingling sensations. In your toes, your entire body and especially that core. Dripping with only a few subtle touches so far and this was only the beginning. As your eyes began to flutter, Armin would instruct you to keep them open and strictly on them; twisting your head around whilst he played with your nipples. Tracing slow circles around the areolae before bringing those fingers back up to your quivering mouth to slick with saliva.
“There we go, pretty girl. Open up f’r me..” his higher pitched tone, one some would consider feminine rang out in your ear. He didn’t even have to look and yet he knew your body better than any man you’d ever let touch you prior. He could always sense when you were ovulating and in need of a good session. One that satisfied you mind, body and spirit. Anything to avoid some loser who didn’t deserve to be in your presence, less known getting some pussy get the best of you. Sure, he could fuck you senseless. Bend you over and make you chomp down on your plushies or a nearby pillow. Or even fold your legs up to the headboard and give you deep strokes while your vibrator went crazy but that wouldn’t do. He wanted you to experience a different type of pleasure. One that would have you addicted once you became used to the feeling. Between your trembling thighs lied that little sweet spot..quivering and spasming on nothing more than air. Cream leaking from that freshly shaved cunt as he continued to tease your most sensitive of pressure points. Nibbling on your ear, kissing on your neck and leaving soothing pecks all along your shoulder blade and back.
“Arminnnn…oh my..fuck—“
“Look at you…so cute like this. I swear, it makes me wanna keep playing with you all night.”
when he first told you that an orgasm by merely having your nipples played with was possible, you stared at him as if he were absolutely crazy. You didn’t think such a thing could ever happen and yet, here you were…about to climax and he hadn’t even so much as touched your clit yet! Gasping for air, (y/n) became undone right there in his firm grasp. Armin’s legs coiling you to keep you in place. “Shh..it’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe with me, okay? I know it feels good and you wanna come so bad…but just hold on.” Those subtle kisses doing little to quell you but when he spoke to you so carefully and delicately, you had no choice but to listen. Faint traces of drool seeped from between your lips as he kept rubbing. Going counterclockwise, twisting in all sorts of directions before clamping down yet again. You’d try to wiggle around, even rut yourself against a nearby pillow to get off but alas, that was useless. He’d pop your leg and command you to stay still..
“No cheating…just let me get you there..” “okay, okay!..please, I just wanna come..”
and soon, your tireless groveling and pleas would pay off. Because alas, he’d let those lengthy fingers glide down your belly and to that fat little pussy, where he spread those lips apart and rubbed that little clit for just a moment. But it was abundantly clear you were far more stimulated than expected. With only a few seconds of gentle massaging, you were flooding the sheets, squirting all over his hands and the bed. So bashful of such a reaction but it was exactly what he wanted to see!
“Aww, good job, baby..you came so hard..” watching you writhe and cry out in pure bliss and ecstasy. There was no way that a little nipple rubbing garnered such a reaction but you’d never question his again! Allowing you to ride out your climatic high, Armin spun you around once more before kissing you. “That feel good, mama? Did you like that?” Questioning with that sweet yet nasally tone, cooing to you like a baby. And you nodded, still dazed with a fucked out expression. Bopping your nose, Armin placed a kiss to your forehead as you lie in his arms.
“I told you, you gotta trust me more often. I’ll do whatever it takes to please you.”
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lovetrt · 7 months
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like a mötley crüe song
eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: a lesson in smoking leads to some more interesting lessons… (5.0k)
warnings: smut (oral - m receiving, fingering - f receiving, grinding), best friends to lovers, afab!reader, eddie calls r “girl” sometimes. mdni.
<3
“Fuck,” you sigh, messing up the chord again.
The rain patters violently against the roof of the trailer, mocking your shitty playing. You scowl and grip the chip between your fingers tighter.
It’s a nice night despite your frustration. The storm outside the trailer’s window is electric and fierce, but calming in the comfort of Eddie’s room. An old lamp sits near his closet, bathing the otherwise dark space in a broken golden hue.
You’ve been fiddling with the guitar in your lap for the last half hour, struggling to get the song right. It’s like your fingers aren’t working properly, the tempo is all wrong, and there’s one note that you can’t seem to get right.
You blame your struggle on the intoxicating smell of weed and the sight of your best friend sprawled out on his bed. He’s shirtless with a freshly rolled joint pinched between his fingers and a mug resting at his side to act as an ashtray. It’s mind-numbing how pretty he is when he’s doing something so mundane.
“‘S that Mötley Crüe?” Eddie’s voice is groggy, set deep in his throat. Smoke leaves his mouth as he speaks, blooming from his lips and curling around in the air like wildflowers growing in spring. It thins out and disappears just as quick as it came.
“Yeah, She Goes Down or at least it’s supposed to be. I can’t get this part right.” He hums, lips wrapped prettily around the joint. You ignore the shivers rushing up your spine and turn back to the instrument on your lap.
It’s Eddie’s guitar you're using. He’s protective of it, rightfully so considering Wayne saved up for a year to get it for his birthday. It was really no surprise when he wouldn’t let you use it at first. But after months of whining and desperate pouting, he reluctantly gave in.
He lets you use it whenever you want after seeing how gentle you are with it and how excited you get when you learn a song. Sometimes he’ll even teach you a song, hands wrapped around yours to show you the chords. It’s not ‘cause he wants you to get better, he doesn’t really care for that. He’s just selfish and wants to see your toothy grin when you get it right.
You pick at the strings again, playing the same chord until that sour note ruins it again. You scoff and remove the electric guitar from your lap, gently getting up from the floor and placing it back on its mount.
“I’m never gonna get it,” you sulk, kneeling to the right of Eddie’s bare chest and tossing the pick he got you somewhere in his sheets. It’s a pink one from the record store on Main Street with a few crooked hearts Eddie drew on. He thinks you’re exaggerating when you say it’s the best birthday gift you’ve ever gotten, but it tops the gift card your parents get you every year with flying colors.
You watch his tummy rise and fall with his breaths. You’re jealous of how comfortable he looks right now, laid out and eyes closed. Your own eyes linger on his skin, admiring the dark tattoos you’ve memorized over the years and the way they contrast his pale complexion.
You’re not oblivious. You know your best friend is attractive, panty-wetting and jaw-droppingly attractive. You’ve seen the way people stare at him, hungry eyes and bitten lips, and though you would never admit it, you get a little upset when you catch them.
But, then again, you can’t blame them. He’s alluring in an awkward, boyish way, the kind that makes you want him so bad it hurts. He’s lean, but not scrawny. His hands are large and littered with veins that crawl up the sides of his arms. His pouty lips and puppy eyes give him an innocent charm that contradicts his otherwise rough aesthetic. He’s everything you could ever want and more.
So yeah, you’re not oblivious, but your best friend is. He doesn’t notice when someone’s checking him out, not even when it’s you who’s doing it. You’re not sure if this trait of his is a blessing or a curse.
You trace a patch of dark ink on his hip. It’s a stick and poke you did on him in sophomore year. With a clean needle and suspicious ink, you tattooed a tiny bat. It’s messy compared to his professionally done tattoos and is missing a few spots of ink, but Eddie always tells you it’s his favorite ‘cause you did it. You press your fingertips into it until he’s hissing and trapping your fingers in his right hand.
“Don’t get all pouty, sweetheart. I’ll teach you later,” he mutters, bringing the blunt back to his lips with his other hand.
You pull your fingers out of his tight grasp and hold him properly, fingers lacing together, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles. You know touching and sitting so close probably isn’t normal in platonic relationships. Wearing nothing but a strappy shirt and tiny shorts while he’s shirtless probably isn’t too normal either.
But your friendship with Eddie isn’t normal. It’s crooked and jagged, distorting platonic boundaries. You’re always too close, too doting, too much. It’s not just friendship, it can’t be. It’s more than that.
His other hand comes down to rest on his chest after taking a big puff, fingers lifted to keep the burning stick from hitting his skin. You watch the way he exhales, letting the weed out through his nose.
“Can you teach me how to smoke too?” The question leaves you before you could even think about it.
“Really?” His eyebrows are arched in surprise, amusement lazily tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Yeah please,” you sweetly smile and pick the joint from between his fingers, careful not to burn him. It feels weird in your hand, almost unnatural yet exhilarating.
It’s not like you’ve never gotten high before. Eddie is your closest friend, so of course you’ve tried weed. But you’ve only had it when he makes you his ‘famous special brownies’ or invites you to try Rick’s new edibles, never though a joint.
He sighs, “Smoking’s bad for you.”
“So is getting high,” you shrug and bring it close to your lips, waiting for his instruction. Warmth travels down to your core when he mutters “brat” under his breath, feeling fuzzy without even having any drugs in your system.
“Suck in the smoke and then inhale through your mouth.” Your head goes dizzy when you wrap your lips around the blunt, right where Eddie’s mouth had been seconds ago.
Weed fills your mouth, tasting flowery and bitter on your tongue. You inhale, but start choking the second it slips down. It burns your throat red and raw, aching while you cough violently into your elbow. Tears itch in against your eyes while his heavy hand comes up to smooth circles down your back, encouraging you to breathe.
You catch your breath with his hand in yours and swallow tightly to try to ease the burn. Eddie takes the roach in your hand and flicks it into the mug. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I should’ve eased you into it.” You nod through a few leftover coughs and wet lashes.
He’s looking at you softly, toffee brown eyes gazing into your watery ones. “Still up for learning? I’ll teach you better this time, we’ll go slow.” You’re embarrassed but determined, nodding while picking up a new joint from the tin box on his nightstand.
“We’re gonna do a shotgun this time ‘cause it’ll be smoother, you know that is?”
“Blowing smoke into someone’s mouth,” you say, but the rise of your tone makes it sound more like a question.
You’ve seen Jonathan do it to Nancy. He’d exhaled cigarette smoke into her mouth before trapping her in a fiery kiss. You feel your face get hot at the thought of doing that with Eddie, breathing him in and then tasting the weed on his lips.
Your heart bursts when he grins at you, “Yeah, smart girl. You sure about doing this?”
You’re nodding ‘cause your words fail you, brain too weak and flustered to come up with a response.
“Good, c’mere,” he sits up with his back against the headboard. You’re really not sure how he wants you, so you just shuffle closer until your thigh is against his and your knees at his hip. He takes the joint and sticks it between his lips, nodding to his lighter sitting on the bedside table.
You lean across him and take it, gently playing around with the mechanism while his fingers trace little shapes on your thighs. “You’re gonna exhale for me while I take a hit, and then you’re gonna inhale through your mouth when I let it out, okay?” His voice is honey, flowing thickly and sweetly into the room.
You don’t answer, instead lean over to light the blunt, watching the fiery red tip burn. His eyes drop between you two, risking a glance at your tits. They’re pushed up at the edge of your strappy shirt, the hem sitting low on your chest. You don’t notice, too entranced with the way his mouth inhales the smoke so smoothly.
He pulls you towards his face with a firm hand at the back of your neck. His eyes flutter shut while you let out a dramatic exhale to let him know you’re ready.
He plucks the joint from his lips and leans into you. Even with your eyes closed, you can tell he’s close to you, so painfully close. It takes everything in you to stop yourself from pushing forward and kissing him breathless.
When he softly blows out, you inhale completely and let the weed fill up your senses. The smoke glides through your throat much smoother this time, and you’re exhaling without a single cough.
You’re feeling fuzzy by the end of it, fingertips tingling against Eddie’s hand.
“That was good, babe. Wanna try it yourself?” You shake your head, take the joint, and put it up to his lips.
“No, can we do another shotgun please? Just to be sure,” you say, though the last part comes out as a weak whisper. Part of you genuinely wants to make sure you won’t cough and embarrass yourself again. The other part of you wants to be close to him, close enough you could almost taste his lips. He nods and takes a hit, chest rising as his lungs fill up.
You lean close when he squeezes your hand and take a breath when he lets his out. Your head is floarting, buzzing with a pleasant dizziness that pulses shivers down your body. You’re not sure if it’s because of Eddie or the weed or both, but you love it regardless.
He’s grinning when you exhale successfully, blowing the smoke between your bodies.
“Alone now,” he sticks the joint between your parted lips when the weed dissipates. You do as you practiced, taking in the crisp smoke and breathing in as much as you can. He’s squeezing your hand again when you let it out nicely.
“That’s my girl. My turn,” he whispers with a toothy grin and takes a puff, sweet and smooth. Your muscles feel blissfully loose and heavy as you take a few more puffs and listen to the rhythm of the rain hitting the roof.
The drug in your system makes it hard to pry your eyes off his mouth, pink and pouted. It’s even harder to stop yourself from kissing him right then and there.
And maybe it’s the drugs or desperation, but when Eddie presses his lips around the blunt for one last drag, you break.
Without warning, you pull the cigarette from his mouth and kiss him.
You get the smallest taste of him, lips smooth with smoke, before you realize what you’re doing and pull yourself back.
You’re flush with embarrassment, “I’m so sorry, I-”
But before you can continue, he’s bringing you closer with a firm hand on the back of your neck and kissing you with burning passion. His lips are parted over yours, plush and soft against you. Warmth bursts in your chest as he deepens the kiss, the taste of weed on his tongue adding to your intoxication.
He’s pulling away much too soon for your liking and smushing the joint in the mug. You can’t resist the wait, so you’re pressing your lips to his again. His sweet mouth nibbles and bites your own. He’s groaning in pleasure, hands coming down to squeeze your waist to get you closer, fingers digging harsh enough for you to have bruises in the morning.
You’re pulling into him for more until it’s hard to breathe with him clouding your senses. You stop, watching him chase after your lips through heavy breaths, eyes shut, and messy hair.
He looks beautiful, and you need more.
“Can I suck you off?” Your voice is weak, breath heavy and tickling his skin.
“Wha-?” His shock is evident by the way his jaw tilts, mouth parted.
“Please, baby. I wanna try it,” you pout. Your hand comes down to his thigh, touching him lightly.
He whimpers shakily, “Yeah, yeah okay.”
And then you’re shuffling down on his bed, popping the button on his jeans. The sight of his happy trail has you clenching your thighs together.
You inch his jeans down, knuckles brushing against him, eliciting a trail of goosebumps. You toss them somewhere on the floor once they’re off and admire his position.
He’s still laid out, comfortable as ever, but there’s a certain look to him now. Anticipation and excitement sit pretty on his face.
“You sure?” You’re mumbling as your hands roam upwards towards the bulge in his underwear.
“God, yes.”
And that’s all you need to pull the waistband down his hips. His cock springs up, finally released from the tight confines of his jeans. You’re almost entranced as you stare at him.
He’s so pretty, tip aching for your touch against his stomach. His soft, pale skin smooths into a pretty pink at his slightly curved tip, veins marked all throughout him. His dark bush sits softly at his base, curling around the skin there. He’s long, so long, that you question how you’re going to get him down your throat. Your mouth waters.
“You just gonna stare at me?” His voice is thick through heavy breaths.
“You’re pretty, Eds,” you grin at him in response before shifting up to settle between his legs and lean down.
“Thank you, baby,” he blushes, and you giggle ‘cause the pink on his face matches his tip.
You press a wet kiss on his slit in response. His breath hitches as you grab at his base and tease a little more, giving him tiny kitten licks on his sensitive head until he’s practically whimpering.
His sweet noises spur you on as you lick up from his base to his head a few times until he’s wet enough to touch. You wrap your fingers around him and stroke, twisting your wrist when your hand moves down.
“Is this your first time doing this?” Your stomach flutters at the thickness of his voice, smooth honey dripping into his tone again.
You look up at him, cheeks red and lips parted. He looks beautiful like this, under your control.
“Yeah, am I doing okay?”
He grunts, “More than okay, feels so fucking good. Use your mouth, sweetheart.” You nod, skin burning red-hot at his praise.
You put him in your mouth, his tip heavy where it sits on your tongue. His taste is new to you, musky and salty yet indescribably good. His whimpers start up again when you begin to suck him gently.
“Now, use your tongue a little,” he tuts. You hum and slowly swirl your tongue around him, pausing to tease at his slit and pick up drops of precum.
“You’re taking me so well, taking my cock so perfectly.” He groans, hips bucking forward just enough for the back of your throat to start throbbing. He’s breathless as you continue going lower and lower, trying to take all of him in you.
You can’t stop the whine that escapes you when his fingers tangle in your hair to keep you against him. He’s not necessarily pushing, just holding you. A dense cloud of ache and smoke forms at your core, sending storms of pleasure to your entire body.
Your eyes itch with tears as you try not to gag. His head is so deep, and it burns your throat like the weed had when you took your first drag. He senses your discomfort and pets your hair gently while muttering a small “breathe through your nose, baby.”
One last push has your nose slightly nuzzled in his bush, lips wrapped tightly around his base. There's more of him, an inch or so you can’t take. He doesn’t seem to mind, mumbling, “That’s it, that’s my good girl,” through heavy panting.
You look up at him through your wet eyelashes. He’s flushed, more than ever, and leaning up on his elbows, watching you take him through hooded eyes. The sight goes straight to that warm cloud between your legs, the pleasure making you forget what you’re doing until you’re gagging slightly.
He tuts as you regain your composure, focusing on your breathing so you don’t pull back. Tears roll down your cheeks as you take him, head bobbing up and down his length while your hand spreads drool that’s collected on his base to his heavy balls.
He wipes your tears with a tender finger, watching you continue to take every bit of him. His eyes and taste on you are intense, burning with want and something else you can’t quite place. Maybe it’s because of the way he’s looking at you, the way he smells, the way he tastes, the way his weed makes you feel, or maybe it’s because you’re nearly choking on his dick. But you’re finding it hard to breathe, hard to keep yourself from gagging around him. So, you swallow, his tip snug against the back of your throat.
He’s pulling you off with a firm grip at the back of your head and a sex-dripping moan.
“Wha-“
“Was about to fucking cum, angel,” he says.
It’s hard to speak while your heart pounds, partly because of your lack of air and partly because he looks so pretty and flushed, but you manage. “Wanted to taste you,” you pout, leaning your head against his thigh so prettily he thinks his heart is going to burst.
“Next time, sweetheart. I wanna play with your pussy, okay?”
Next time. Next time Next time. Your head spins until he’s tapping your cheek to bring you back.
“C’mon, let me take care of you.”
You get up and lay down, head against his soft pillow. You watch his muscles tense and turn as he puts the forgotten ashtray-mug on his bedside table and turns to you. He’s between your legs now, and the switch in position gives you a slight whiplash that only drugs and arousal and Eddie could produce.
He bites his lip at the sight of your tits stuffed in your thin shirt.
“You’re wearing too much. Wanna take this off?” He’s gentle, not prodding, as his fingers dance along the hem of your small shirt, thumbing at a loose thread there. You nod desperately, already lifting yourself to help him get the fabric off.
“Use your words,” he tuts while pushing you to lay back down.
You whine out a pathetic “yes, please,” under your breath.
You swear you see his dick twitch when he pulls it off, discarding it somewhere on the floor.
His eyes are black, blown with lust as he admires your bare tits. Your breath shudders at the cold air, nipples hardening beneath him. He sighs like he can’t fucking believe the sight before him.
“You’re so fucking precious. You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he mutters, hands coming up to cup your tits.
You giggle sweetly, “I think I have an idea.” You push your hips up slightly to brush Eddie’s dick against your skin. He shuts you up with a bite to your tits, smirking with his skin between your teeth when you squirm.
He leaves a mark there, licking and sucking until there’s a patch of purple on you. You like the fact that your best friend is marking you up, taking you as if you were his and he were yours. It makes your blood run scorching hot under your skin.
He takes your whimpers and gasps as a sign to keep going, pressing bruises into your chest while ignoring your pebbled nipples. It’s only when you grasp his hair and push him down that he starts suckling where you want him, tongue teasing your neglected buds.
He moves his mouth to your other tit, teeth gently brushing against you. That feeling in your core gets stronger, growing until you’re begging for more.
“Need you to touch me, please.” A bite lands on the side of your tit, Eddie completely disregarding you. You squirm, inching further up the bed. “Eds, please, I need more.” It’s like your body is going to give out if you don’t get him where you need him.
He leans back with one final kiss pressed to your sternum and admires you: the way your legs are spread for him, eyes filled with tears, and lips red with lust.
“Can I take your shorts off?”
You sigh, “yes, please.”
So he does, pulling them off you as you lift your hips to help him. He’s met with the sight of white cotton panties, simple and soft with a tiny bow at the top. They’re an innocent pair, one you probably wouldn’t have worn if you knew the night would go like this. But he revels in it anyway, looking like he could devour you.
As your legs move back to their spread position, he marvels at the messy in your panties and the patch of wetness soaking the thin fabric. Softly, his hands trail over your thighs, inching closer and closer until the tips of his fingers reach the area where your cunt meets your thigh.
One of them comes up to thumb over the dainty bow before pulling your panties to the side to expose your sopping cunt. Watching his pretty lips fall apart at the sight of you feels almost as good as the feeling of his eyes on your core. His fingertips tracing your slit with a barely there pressure that has you whining for more.
“Look at you. You’re so fucking pretty,” he mutters under his breath, fingers spreading your folds. His face is twisted into a dazed expression, heavy and relaxed with the feeling of you.
“Please, touch me,” you say with a whine in your voice that only he can evoke. He tuts while his fingers brush over your sensitive clit. You jolt, hips twitching and aching for more. He’s slow to feel you, fingers languidly trailing down to circle your entrance and back up to toy with your clit.
“Y’so warm, sweet girl.” He whispers, now pressing down on your clit with enough pressure to have you moaning. The cloud of ache in your belly turns violent against his calloused fingers.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby.” His breath is heavy. You string together some pathetic words, something about “so good” and “faster,” but he seems to understand as his fingers rub your clit at a pace that has you tipping over the edge embarrassingly quick, the cloud in your tummy bursting into waves of vibrating pleasure.
His fingers keep rubbing at you through your orgasm, only slowing down when your swallow breath turns deeper. Your blood runs hot in your veins, sizzling with leftover pleasure.
“You okay? Wanna keep going?” His palms slide up your thighs.
“Yeah- yes please, I’m okay.”
He leans down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “Good, sweetheart. Can I try something?”
You nod, but bring him down to you with a hand on his shoulder to kiss him again. It’s nothing but teeth and giggles when your lips meet, too excited to properly kiss. He pulls away with a wet smack and brings his sight back down to your soaked cunt. With hungry eyes and bitten lips, he fixes your panties, putting them on properly.
You start, “Eddie, what are you-”
But then he sticks his cock in the small space between your hot cunt and pearl-colored panties before you could finish. He’s placed his body toward that space where your pussy and your thigh meet and pushed his cock to sit in the gap under your panties. Your core is covered by soaked fabric and his thick cock, goosebumps blooming where his skin touches yours.
“Oh,” you mutter breathlessly, the tip of his cock sitting heavy over your clit.
A gutteral noise escapes his lips as he rutts himself painfully slow against your warmth and the smooth fabric, supporting himself with two strong hands on either side of your head. Sparks dances as he itchs forward, pressing against your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your arousal and cum coat his cock and your panties, serving as lubrication and encouragement for him to speed up.
Your body is positively on fire, the tips of your fingers and bottom of your tummy aching in desire. He feels so good against you, rubbing your sensitivity with his bulbous tip. Sparks float behind your closed eyes, exploding like fireworks each time he presses against you just right.
“Shit, baby, w-was just doing this to tease you. Feels too- mmm fuck, too fucking good, though. I’ll fuck you another day, yeah?” It’s pathetic how you moan, his lustful voice sending your already muggy brain reeling. He doesn’t seem to care for an answer, eyes stuck on your tits.
He adjusts your panties over himself, a thumb coming down to tighten the space his cock penetrates. You watch as his tip tightly presses against the soft cotton, precum wetting the fabric even more.
The friction grows against you as his thrusts pick up in speed. His lips capture yours in a heavy kiss, his tongue taking the lead. As you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, it gets harder to kiss him back. Instead your lips spread open, spilling dirty whimpers into his mouth while accepting the pecks he presses on you.
“So close- don’t stop,” you beg with a hand wrapped around his wrist.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The pained tone in his voice and the pinched pleasure in his face expose just how close he is, heavy breaths and groans accompanying each rock of his hips. Your nails rake across his back, gripping where ever you can.
Your blurry eyes trail over him and catch on the silver of his chain. It’s a dainty piece, his signature when it comes to jewelry. You watch it bounce along with the feeling of his cock against you.
The chain disappears from your sight as he leans towards you. As if he’s memorized your body in the short time he’s gotten to explore it, his mouth nips at the sweet spot on your neck while a hand comes up to toy with your nipple. Unexpected and sharp- the final thrusts until you’re squeezing your eyes shut and cumming.
His hand squeezes your waist, chipped nails digging at the hard enough to press bruises for you to find tomorrow. He works you through the rest of your orgasm, prolonging the sparks rumbling at your core.
Before waves of sensitivity and overstimulation wash over you, Eddie cums. Warm spurts of him coat your sticky pussy and drenched panties. He groans, face dropping into your neck.
He’s quiet as he catches his breath, inhaling the scent of sex and smoke and you. You do the same, running a hand up and down his back where you were previously scratching. You wince when he moves, softening dick catching on your sensitive clit.
“I‘m sorry, so sorry sweetheart. I’ll be right back,” he mutters.
You watch as he walks off to the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth. He takes off your soiled panties and cleans you up gently. When he’s done, he lays on the bed facing you. You copy him, turning on your side until you’re face to face.
“Was that okay?” Kind fingers come up to brush your hair away from your face.
“More than okay,” you mutter back, reaching up to catch his hand between your own and lace your fingers together against your chest.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” His words tingle on your skin, raising warmth to the surface. You lean your head down to kiss his knuckles in a shy response, hoping he can’t see your flustered state.
He lets out an amused huff before reaching over your shoulder with his free hand. He picks up your pink guitar pick and shows it to you with a crooked smile on his lips.
“Want me to teach you that song? What was it again? Don’t remember,” he says, fingers fiddling with the pick.
You groan, already seeing the humor in this and the endless teasing you’re gonna get.
“It was She Goes Down…”
You watch Eddie’s lips break into a smirk, smiling like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “She Goes Down, huh? Yeah, you do.”
You kiss him to shut him up.
<3
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bimbobaggins69 · 6 months
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throuple, throuple, toil and trouble
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modern steddie x only fans reader
summary: after adjusting to life under the same roof, you and the boys decide to throw a Halloween party. Most of Steve and Eddie’s friends drive in from Hawkins, too excited to meet their friends new girl, they’ve heard so much about. But not everyone comes barring good intentions.
warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, pictures are for aesthetic purposes only(no mention of skin color or hair texture), consented somnophilia, oral sex (m receiving), allusions to frotting, showering together, jealous!steddie, slut shaming, mentions of reader being drugged and sexually assaulted, smoking weed, drinking, fighting, blood, unprotected double v penetration, body worship, cream pie, the boys reminding you who you belong to.
authors note: part two of ‘welcome to the dungeon…’ I hope you enjoy (: as always thank you to @xxhellfiregirlxx & @take-everything-you-can for being the best betas <3
wc: 7.2k
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“Mmm, well good fuckin’ mornin’ to me.” Eddie growls, as two of the most beautiful people he’s ever witnessed lay between his hairy, pale legs.
“Yes, suck the tip Stevie, while our princess sucks my balls.” He continues through gritted teeth, “fuck yeah.” He hissed before bringing both hands to rub down his face and through his frizzy, bed hair.
“God, if this is just another wet dream, I’m gonna be pissed.” He chuckles before it turns into a loud whimper caused by the particularly hard suck you gave to his balls while Steve pushed his head down further, bringing Eddie’s cock deeper down his throat.
“Does that feel real enough?” You tease before sliding your tongue across the metalhead's sensitive sack and down to his gooch.
“Oh, someone’s fucking mouthy this morning.” He declares, making Steve giggle with a mouth full of cock.
Eddie tugs at Steve’s luscious locks, pulling him off as a loud pop rings out into the sunlit room, causing the little cock slut to whine, but before you can tease him, the older boy is grabbing a handful of your hair and wrapping it once around his knuckles, pushing you down onto his spit soaked cock.
“Yeah, can’t say anything now, can you baby?” Eddie mocks, making your cunt clench around absolutely nothing.
The groggy boy thrusts his hips harder into your mouth before bringing Steve’s needy lips to his. They kiss and suck at each other as Eddie continues to fuck your deliciously sore throat.
The smacks and moans coming from the head of the bed, egg you on as you twist, suck and gag on Eddie’s painfully hard cock.
“Can Steve come help me?” You beg as you bat your lashes up at your boys, making them break their hot as shit, kiss.
“You want Stevie boy to help you clean up my cum? Is that it?” Eddie knows how much you and Steve love swapping his cum through sloppy kisses, hell Eddie loves it more than both of you combined, so who is he to deny you?
“Get down there with our girl, baby.” He whispers to Steve before bringing him in for one last kiss.
The pretty boy obliges by sliding down and planting himself right beside you.
“Hi.” He whispers sweetly, giving you a quick kiss to your lips before bringing his to one side of Eddie’s shaft, moving up and down in quick but calculated movements.
You shadow him by bringing your lips to the other side, matching his pace and occasionally licking the vein that runs up Eddie’s throbbing cock.
“Oh, fuck yeah.” The older boy mumbles under his breath as his eyes shift from yours to Steve’s. Both of you looking up at him while your mouths move simultaneously along his cock, will have him busting in your mouths in seconds, it’s honest to god his weakness. He feels like a king being worshiped by two beautiful servants. Like the luckiest son of a bitch, alive.
You and Steve rub your tongues together over his tip, spit and precum clinging to both sets of lips that continue their assault on the bright pink, spongy skin.
“Oh fu-uck! Tongues out. Now.” Eddie demands through loud huffs of pleasure. Once both of you have your tongues displayed for the metalhead, warm spurts of cum hit one before he brings his tip to the other, giving his two cum sluts their well deserved treat.
You both hold the cum exactly where it landed, letting Eddie get a good look at his mess before you and the pretty boy begin kissing, swapping loads back and forth, the treat drips down Steve’s chin and you eagerly lick it away before continuing the sloppy share of Eddie’s beloved seed.
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It’s been a month and a half since Eddie and Steve have moved in with you, the first two weeks were a mixture of awkward and taut energy as you three adjust to life together. Not to mention the sexual tension between you and the boys, having to hear them some mornings or nights being intimate with each other while you knew you wanted so badly to be a part of it and them wanting you to join but not wanting to come off too strong.
It was a challenge, that is until Steve finally had enough and sat you down their second week of residency, with a very shy but eager Eddie by his side.
“So what did you guys wanna talk about?” Your voice low and your fingers fidgeting with nervousness as you pick up the haphazardly strewn about mail laid out on the kitchen table, stacking it together before shuffling it like a pile of cards.
“Well…” Steve draws out, “to just put everything out on the table…Eddie and I felt something that night, the night we came over and ya know, filmed with you… and we thought we’d just kinda continue whatever it is we had going on, but it just sorta seems like you’ve been pulling away from us.”
He runs a nervous hand through his chestnut locks before continuing “did you not feel it, too?” Eddie and Steve look at you with doe eyes, filled with sadness as they both search your face for answers.
“I did feel something, too…” you begin as you look back and forth between the pretty boy and metalhead, “I just didn’t want to come in between anything or insert myself where I didn’t belong.” You admit, as your anxious fingers continue to fidget, now with your rings.
“Baby,” Eddie starts, giving you that puppy dog look that makes you weak in the knees, the one where he tucks his chin into his chest, looking at you through his long lashes. “Trust me when I say, you belong between us.”
And that’s how your month-long relationship with the boys started. They quit their job at ‘the dungeon’ to make content with you full time.
After you had posted the video to your only fans, your subscribers went crazy for Steve and Eddie, wanting to see more of them with you, along with so many requests for them to make their own; where they could do solo content, which you heavily encouraged.
You and Steve came up with the idea of turning one of the guest rooms into a “sex dungeon” as Eddie called it. Shelves lined with dildos belonging to all three of you; the flesh like one that attached to the strap on you’ve used to fuck Steve with sat front and center, a sex swing; compliments of the boys sat in the corner next to the window lined in black sheer curtains. Ring lights, tripods and any electronic equipment were placed neatly in the spacious walk-in closet and lube, handcuffs, vibrators and butt plugs took up the two drawers in the bed side table.
The other guest room; that was now left vacant, belonged to Eddie and Steve when they first moved in. Now you all share the primary room with discussions of purchasing a bigger bed as Eddie was a stage five clinger in his sleep, he enjoyed being right underneath you or Steve at all times during the night, but you had a feeling a bigger bed wasn't going to change that habit.
Things were perfect, like all levels of the honeymoon phase, perfect. There was only one thing left in your relationship to do, and that was to meet their friends from Hawkins, and for them to meet Michelle. So like the genius you are, you planned to throw a Halloween party with it being mid October, the leaves now beautiful shades of orange, red and browns. It was going to be perfect.
So some cleaning and decorating were in order.
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“Fuck.” Eddie huffs, before stretching with a loud yawn. “You both wear me the fuck out.” He chuckles to himself before finding his previously discarded boxer shorts, that were covered in dried up cum from last night's tryst of frotting both boys until they came all over each other's spent cocks and the fabric that Eddie was too impatient to remove all the way.
You and Steve giggle at the metalhead between kisses, you can still taste Eddie on his tongue as you continue devouring his mouth.
“I’m gonna go take a shower, you two have fun.” Eddie smirks down at you both, giving a salacious wink, before sauntering over towards the bathroom.
“Mmm, I get you all to myself?” The pretty boy purrs before kissing down your jaw towards your sweet spot, just under your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you full.” He growls into your ear making you moan and shiver. “I know after sucking cock together your pussy turns into a slip-n-slide.” The honey eyed boy whispers before softly biting at your earlobe.
“Mhm.” You moan back in agreement. “Need it so bad, Stevie.” You gasp as one of Steve’s fingers roughly pinch at your peaked nipple.
“I know you do, baby.” He nods with a mocking pout on his lips. “My little cock slut.” He playfully chides, giving one last tug to your nipple.
“Yeah, you and me both.” You retort, making him laugh into your neck.
“You're not wrong there.” He guffaws, “but, I'm a pussy slut right now.” His response pulls a belly laugh from you as you lay your head on his shoulder. God, you love him.
Wait what?
“Lay back baby, let me show you how much of slut I am for your pretty pussy.”
You and Steve make it down stairs an hour later, all giggles and flirty banter as you both walk into the kitchen, taking in the mess and calculating what needs to be cleaned and where decorations should go.
Eddie went to pick up last minute things for the party, giving you and Steve a sweet kiss while the pretty boy pounded into you from the back. Eddie smiled to himself, shaking his head in complete adoration for the both of you. With anyone else, Eddie would have been an angry, jealous mess; walking out to see the person he’s in love with fucking someone else. But with you, it was different because that love now extended to you, too. You weren't just a random person to them, seeing you and Steve together made him anything but angry. He loved taking a backseat and watching his two lovers, love on each-other. That shit was pure ecstasy, man.
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Once all the dishes were washed, floors were swept and mopped and all surfaces were wiped down; you and Steve decide to take a quick shower together before getting straight to decorating.
While you were washing the shampoo out of the pretty boy's signature locks the shower curtain was being ripped open, making you and your boyfriend yelp from sheer terror.
“Jesus Christ.” Eddie says with a snicker, “Is that how you’d protect our girl from an intruder, huh Stevie?” The metalhead jokes as he removes his clothes,
“Oh, I didn't expect anyone to pull a psycho on me today, sorry my guard was down.” Steve sasses as he rolls his eyes.
“Always gotta be on guard, baby.” Eddie responds with, as he steps into the shower leaving you squished between both boys. You couldn't help but to giggle at their banter, you loved it.
“Sorry angel, don’t mean to take up all the room, but I missed you both and I just wanted to be next to you.” The long haired boy confesses as he playfully grabs for yours and Steve's ass. “Two juicy asses, how’d I get so lucky?” He says through gritted teeth, as his eyes glaze over in lust.
“I feel the same way about your cocks.” You admit, bringing both boys in towards you as you share a threeway kiss, all lips and tongues. Both of them moan into it, making you want to say ‘to hell with the party’ and spend all day in bed fucking each others brains out, but you knew that wasn’t an option.
“Come on, we still have so much to do.” You say, delivering swift slaps to both of their behinds, before you're grabbing your towel off the rack and stepping out.
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Finally, after all your guys’ hard work, the house is set up for the Halloween party of your dreams.
The front door was lined with pumpkin lanterns, an animatronic ghost face stands tall on your front porch, the fog machines are on and smoking up the walkway, spooky sounds ready to go off when the party goers ring the doorbell.
Once inside, all the light bulbs have been changed to either orange or purple and there’s a walkway of stickers that look like bloody footsteps and splatters leading to the snack table in the dining room. Everywhere you look there’s a bat, spider or pumpkin; even the guest bathroom was decorated in some type of Halloween fashion.
But the snack table was the real star of the show, it sat lined with all of the treats Eddie ran out and picked up; caramel apples, cookies, cupcakes, cake pops, even a s’mores bar.
A cauldron filled with dry ice and jones green apple soda sat in the center as it bubbled and fogged up like a real potion, a spider web tablecloth laid beneath the display and orange lights were intertwined between the trays of sweets.
On the kitchen island lay the appetizers; nachos, mummies in a blanket, a cheese board with a plastic skeleton lying in the middle, and finally the numerous boxes of pizzas you ordered.
Everything was perfect.
How you all got it done between quick make out sessions and groping each other every five minutes was beyond you, but you were proud of the outcome, nonetheless.
When your first guests arrived you were already fitted in your tight shiny black tube dress, matching gloves that went up mid shoulder, a little pointy witch hat, black knee high socks and your black platform Mary Jane’s.
The boys were in their matching black cat costumes which mainly consisted of all black clothes, cat ears, cat collars and their faces painted with whiskers and a snout. They were the cutest little kittens.
Steve answered the door as the spooky Halloween sounds rang out through the house.
“Hey, baby.” Steve called from the front door as you were setting out the black solo cups.
Once you and Steve are standing side by side, Eddie runs downstairs, ready to greet the first guests.
“Baby, this is Robin and her girlfriend Chrissy.” The pretty boy says, beaming with his million dollar smile, as he motions to the two beautiful girls standing in front of you. Robin was Mia Wallace from Pulp fiction while Chrissy was the bride from Kill bill, they looked equally amazing.
“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you.” You say as you go in for a hug. Chrissy gives you a bear hug as if you’ve known eachother forever while Robin gives an awkward side hug that makes you giggle in amusement.
After introductions Steve gives Robin and Chrissy the grand tour, while you get back to setting up the finishing touches.
Throughout the night, new faces continued to show up; you met the hellfire kids, their girlfriends and will’s boyfriend, Eddie’s old bandmates and their girlfriends, some friends of Steve’s from high school and Eddie’s old buddy Rick and a couple of his friends.
For living thirty minutes from Hawkins, it was a pretty good turn out.
You stride into the living room from the kitchen, looking for one of your boyfriends. Finally catching a glimpse of Eddie’s wavy brown locks as he takes a seat on the couch surrounded by familiar faces, blunt in hand and ready to light up before his eyes meet yours. He sends you a smile and a wink before waving you over.
“Hey, pretty girl. Come take a seat.” He says as he pats his lap, gently pulling you down by your arm before you situate yourself on top of him. “Careful there, angel.” Eddie whispers into your ear with a smirk as your bottom slid against his now growing bulge.
As Eddie was sparking up his blunt, too preoccupied for his surroundings, you caught eyes with two boys you had met earlier and were introduced to as Steve’s friends from high school; Billy and Tommy if you remembered correctly. They were eyeing you up and down hungrily from across the room, cocky smirks on their lips as they spoke back and forth, clearly about you.
You looked away as quickly as your eyes found them and when you glanced back over, they were gone.
You let out a heavy exhale of breath you didn’t realize you were holding as your attention went back to the metalhead underneath you.
“What’s on your mind, baby?” Eddie asks as he softly kisses your neck before offering you a hit.
“I’m okay,” you say with double meaning towards Eddie’s question and his offer of the blunt.
“I actually have to pee, I'll be back in a bit.” You announce before Eddie quickly takes your chin in his grip and pecks your lips as he says through each kiss “okay…I’ll…see…you…later.”
You walk to the bathroom quickly, hoping not to be stopped by Steve’s “friends”.
You should’ve told Eddie about the way they were looking at you, but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that could potentially be nothing. Maybe they weren’t even looking at you, maybe there was more to it… whatever it was, you didn’t wanna be the thing that came between any boyfriend and his friends.
You make it into the hallway just outside the bathroom when you’re stopped by a rather tipsy Robin.
“Hey,” she cheerfully chirps, “I’ve been meaning to thank you, all night.” She beams but her words of gratitude confuse you.
“Thank me for what?” You ask curiously.
“For making Steve happy, Eddie too…” she says with a bashful smile, “they’ve been through a lot. Steve was pretty torn up over his ex, he wouldn’t move on for years, and was convinced no one else could love him. Then he found Eddie and don’t get me wrong I know he’s so in love with Eddie and they're happy…but now he has two people who will love him and give him what he’s always deserved… so thank you!” She goes in for a hug, this time it’s not an awkward side hug, but the same bear hug Chrissy graced you with, earlier.
“Of course, I intend on always making them both happy.” You admit as your heart flutters at her words.
She nods in satisfaction “I’m gonna go dance with Chrissy, if you want you can totally come and cut in, I’m sure Chrissy would love to dance with someone who actually knows how.” You both chuckle before going separate ways.
You use the bathroom quickly, wash your hands, then give yourself a once over in the mirror before heading back out into the barely lit hallway.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you.” Steve says sweetly as he hugs you, both hands slide down your back slowly before he grabs at the meat of your ass through your tight dress. “Need you and Ed’s so bad tonight.” He whispers into your ear making a chill run down your spine in anticipation.
“You’ll have us baby.” You whisper back before kissing him deeply. You both moan into it before you pull away or else you’d end up fucking him right in the middle of the hallway.
“Mmm, I’m gonna use the bathroom and I’ll find you back out there, unless you wanna…” Steve nods towards the bathroom with a sly smirk. Fuck, these boys were gonna kill you.
“I think we should wait until everyones gone, get real filthy, ya know?” You purr as your fingers slowly walk up his chest before you boop him on the nose, then turn to leave.
“Fuck.” He exhales, shaking his head in utter disbelief and amusement as he heads into the bathroom to relieve himself of all the jones green apple soda mixed with vodka, he’s been drinking like water.
When you walk back into the party, you instantly find Chrissy and Robin in the middle of the living room dancing to Thriller with a few of the girls that came with Eddie’s band and DND club, they’re all laughing and smiling and the whole thing makes your heart feel so full.
Before you’re able to talk yourself out of the invitation you were given, you walk up to them; Chrissy immediately invites you in as she hooks her arm in yours giving you a bright smile.
“Hey, you.” She cheerfully greets you with. You could tell you and Chrissy were going to be fast friends, which you were thankful for considering making friends was never your strong suit and your one and only friend wasn't able to make the party.
You all dance, laugh and joke together for a long stretch of the night, you really haven't had this much fun and let loose with other girls in a long time.
Amber, who you now know is with Gareth, brought over fireball shots for you all to take.
The crowd cheers when you all smash them back.
You almost immediately make eye contact with Steve and Eddie who are sitting on the couch in perfect view of you after the hot liquid seeps down your throat. They’re smiling at you like love sick fools, making your stomach flutter and heart skip as your cheeks grow hot, making you look down towards your feet as if they've suddenly become more interesting.
But before you have a chance to look back up, your body immediately snaps to the voice in your ear that comes from behind you.
“Hello beautiful.” You tense up as a terrifying chill runs through you.
“Um, hi.” You meekly respond with, as your head turns to find Chrissy and Robin dancing, kissing and smiling no longer paying a lick of attention to you.
You didn't want to be rude and tell Billy to leave you alone so you continued to sway back and forth in front of him while he smiled down at you with the most predatory eyes you've ever encountered.
“This is a cute little party you’ve put together.” He chuckles as his minty breath hits your face before he's moving in closer to you.
“Thanks.” You dryly say to what felt like a condescending comment.
“Aw, you shy princess?” He asks before he’s tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Actually, I just came over to tell you I'm a big fan...” He reveals, before getting closer to your ear. “A huge fan.” He whispers.
You feel almost stuck to the ground as you make no moves to get away, until you feel a hand being wrapped around your waist.
“Sup Hargrove? You’re a little close to my girl, don’tcha think?” The metalhead says through clenched teeth.
“Oh, my bad Munson. You're right, you're right..” He says as he takes one more head to toe glance at you before turning and walking back to his freckled faced friend.
“I fuckin’ hate that guy.” Eddie growls as he grabs onto you possessively, as if to mark his territory in front of the two creeps.
“Why is he here then?” You ask curiously as you place your arms over Eddie's shoulders, gently grabbing onto the nape of his neck.
“They’re friends with Steve, use to play basketball with him in high school but they don’t really keep in touch anymore so I honestly have no fuckin’ clue.” He scoffs, giving them one more death glare from over your shoulder.
“You both okay?” Robin asks as she now stands beside you with a bubbly and drunk Chrissy.
“Yeah, we're good.” Eddie speaks up as his grip on you tightens. “You wanna come get some pizza with me, baby?” He whispers before placing a tender kiss to your cheek.
“Yeah, let’s go.” You agree as he eagerly grabs at your hand, interlocking your fingers as you both walk into the kitchen on a hunt for the last few pieces.
Most of the night you find yourself in heavy rotation with Eddie, Steve, Robin and Chrissy but occasionally making your rounds to talk to and get to know more of the boys’ friends.
You find yourself in an interesting conversation with Jeff and his girlfriend Lily who want to start an Only fans of their own, asking for tips and the do’s and don'ts of it all.
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“Fuck, I want you so bad.” Steve whispers to Eddie through the lewd smack of their lips.
“I know baby boy but we have to wait, okay? Can you be a good boy for me?” Eddie asks, making Steve whine into the kisses he was placing on the older boy's neck, making him chuckle.
“So damn needy, aren’t you?” The metalhead growls as he grips and pulls his boyfriend's hair, immediately removing his lips from his skin.
A voice coming from the garage stops Eddie in his tracks.
“She looks so fucking good tonight.”
“Yeah, but you’ve seen her, she’s all over Steve and Eddie man, she won’t go for it.”
“Fuck that. Trust me she will, she’s a slut, plus I think they’re in an open relationship or some weird shit anyway, they’re sure as shit not serious if they’re all fucking each other. Come on man this is why we came.”
“Hmm, I don't know dude might have to slip something in her drink to guarantee a sure time.” One of them snorts at the sick joke.
“Hey, we’ll do what we gotta do.”
The boys are absolutely sure now that the voices coming from behind the garage door belong to Tommy and Billy.
Eddie is seething, his hands are clenched so tight all the veins in his arms are sure to be popping out as his breathing becomes ragged.
Steve goes from horny to fucking fuming in seconds.
“Hey assholes!” Eddie shouts as he rips open the heavy door making the two idiots freeze in a state of shock.
“Oh fuck.” Tommy says under his breath as he sees the looks on the other boys' faces.
“You thought you were gonna come into our house and fuck our girl?! You two fucks are even dumber than I thought.” The metalhead spits as his ringed finger points at them in a blind rage.
“Hey dude, chill the fuck out!” Billy growls, stepping up into Eddie’s face.
Billy fucking Hargrove, always looking for a fight.
‘Well he came to the right place’ Eddie thinks to himself.
“You both need to get the fuck out of here. Now.” Steve says with so much indignation, if Eddie wasn’t so pissed, it would’ve been sure to make his cock twitch.
“Nah, I think there’s a fine piece of ass in there waiting for me.” Billy snides, pushing both boys out of the way as he takes a step inside.
Before he can, he’s being pulled back by his leather jacket, falling flat on the floor. Eddie immediately straddles the mullet haired boy, hitting him with his fists until his knuckles begin to ache and blood becomes visible from both him and Billy.
Tommy goes to pull Eddie off but Steve is there in a flash, punching Tommy and instantly cracking his nose. Steve’s never been one to fight or win one for that matter, but the anger that came over him at their words and their threats to drug and rape you, made him see red.
You along with the older hellfire boys make your way out into the garage after hearing some of the commotion. When you walk in you’re met with a bloody scene; Eddie’s on top of Billy, his fists flying and his face screwed up in complete rage.
Steve has Tommy by the collar of his shirt holding him up against a wall, the freckled faced boy's wounds match Billy’s as crimson red streams from his nose.
Steve says something through his teeth before he’s letting go and letting the boy drop to his knees.
Gareth and Jeff pull Eddie off, holding him back as he tries to get away and finish off what he started.
“You shitheads need to get the fuck outta here, now! I’m not gonna fucking say it again.” Steve roared, making both boys get up and stumble back to their cars, as they grab at their faces that are now gushing with blood.
You look on in horror, completely confused as to what started the whole brawl.
You go for Eddie first who is still shaking with fury.
“Baby, what happened?” You frantically question as you grab at his leather jacket, trying to calm his shaking form.
He immediately grabs you, tucking you into his chest as his arms close in around your body, tightly squeezing and swaying as if he hadn’t seen you all night. He continues by kissing the top of your head over and over until you look up at him, his eyes glassy and red but now all you can see in them is love, so much love that it almost takes your breath away.
He cups your face, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks before he’s kissing you, deeply.
Steve comes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and Eddie as he lays his head on your shoulder, making you and Eddie break from your kiss.
Steve had been explaining what had happened to Gareth, Grant and Jeff as well as to a wide eyed Robin who walked in at the tail end of the confrontation.
“I think we should tell everyone to leave.” Steve whispers, making you and Eddie nod in agreement.
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You all say your goodbyes with lots of hugs and ‘nice to meet yous’ as everyone heads out to their hotels they’d booked around the city.
Robin and Chrissy head up to your guest bedroom, falling asleep almost instantly on the comfortable, fluffy bed.
You take your boyfriend’s into the guest bathroom to clean up their fists while they explain what happened with Tommy and Billy. You were not shocked to say the least and decided to inform them on how you caught the creeps looking at you when you were sitting on Eddie’s lap, more anger filled them as Eddie and Steve agreed they deserved worse than what was given to them.
Finally, while you follow each other upstairs they can’t keep their hands off of you, it’s almost as if it’s primal instinct, like they now have to show you who you belong to. They both tug at your dress exposing your tits while halfway up the stairs. Steve gives your nipples attention until you reach the top where Eddie picks you up bridal style walking you to your shared bedroom as Steve follows behind.
The metalhead throws you onto the bed as both boys eye you with complete, carnal need.
Steve removes your shoes before he’s tugging your dress off the rest of the way, this time they take your knee highs off, wanting you completely naked for them.
Each boy kisses up and down your body, worshiping you as they whisper sweet words of praise into your skin.
“You're so beautiful, baby.” Steve says, before Eddie cuts in with “and you’re all ours.”
Eddie snakes an arm around you, moving you up towards your pillows as if you weigh nothing. He tears your panties off with a loud rip with promises to buy you a new pair as he and Steve lay on either side of you. They kiss your jaw, neck and arms as they each take one of your thighs, rubbing their palms against the meat of them before they're spreading them wider, hooking each foot over their laps so they have easier access to your center.
A shiver runs through you, the parallel in which you felt with Billy is staggering as you realize you will never want anyone, the way you want them.
Both boys bring their wet lips down to your already peaked nipples as they lick and suck at the erect buds, they snake their hands higher between your thighs as they each moan at the wetness that has built up for them and them alone.
Eddie slips two expert fingers into you and hooks them, immediately finding your g-spot, while Steve runs his thumb over your already throbbing clit.
“Holy shit!” You whine in complete and utter pleasure as they both worship and play your body like an instrument.
“Yeah? That feel good, angel?” Eddie mocks, making you moan out louder as both boys’ fingers pick up their pace. The metalhead fucks his into you, as wet squelching could be heard over your wanton screams.
“That’s a good girl, taking everything we give you so good.” Steve praises after popping off of your nipple, that now shines with his spit.
“Just fucking made for us, weren’t you baby?” The long haired boy says while continuing to hit your spot, making your toes curl and your eyes roll back as your peak hits you like a blinding light.
“I’m g-gonna cum, please!” You whine as you throw your head back in complete bliss as both boys attach to each nipple again, their fingers continue to make your spread legs shake.
“That’s it, pretty girl, cum for us. I can feel you squeezing my fingers, just let go.” Eddie whispers
Their unused hands intertwined together behind your head, leaving you all attached to each other.
You’ve never felt so loved, as you let go and give them just what they want.
“Oh fuck!” You shout as you squirm in between them, a gush of fluid wetting their hands up to their wrists as they continue to fuck your through it.
“Fuck, that’s so hot!” Steve moans as he brings his fingers up to your mouth. “Open. Taste yourself.” He demands, you take his appendages that are now dripping in your cum and juices into your mouth, licking and sucking before taking them deep into your throat. Both boys groan as you bob your head, cleaning Steve’s fingers until the only wetness that is left is from your spit.
“That’s right, clean up your mess, dirty girl.” The metalhead growls as he brings his dripping fingers up and shoves them into your mouth after Steve’s removed his. “That’s a good girl.” He coos as he makes you gag, tears immediately fill your eyes as spit seeps out of your mouth and down onto his still reddened and split knuckles.
“Jesus, you’re so perfect, angel.” Eddie mutters as he nuzzles his nose into your jaw before placing more sweet kisses to your skin, a total juxtaposition to how he’s fucking your throat with his fingers.
The other brown eyed boy beside you nips at your ear as his fingers tweak at your sensitive nipples. All of their attention on you is so overwhelming in the best way possible and the fire that they just snuffed out in your lower belly, comes rushing back with a vengeance.
Eddie instantly removes his fingers as he feels you trying to clench your thighs together, that still lay over each boy's clothed lap.
Spit from your mouth dribbles down your chin and onto Steve’s hand that continues to play with your nipples, he roughly rubs the drool off your chin before he’s bringing it back down to your peaked bud, he oh so gently rubs it in with the pad of his index finger, creating goosebumps to form across your body.
The gentle touch to your nipple pulls a whine from between your lips as you grab onto both boys, “I need you.” Is all you can get out, as their hands work your body like their own personal work of art.
“Yeah sweet girl? What do you need, hm? tell daddy.” Eddie mocks with a fake pout.
Steve smiles into the kisses he’s placing onto your neck, at the use of Eddie’s title. There was once upon a time where that was his name for the metalhead but now it belongs to both of you, and fuck, If that's not an instant realization that he loves you and wants to share the other love of his life with you forever, then he doesn't know what is. It's almost as if there is no them, without you. Not anymore.
“Fuck, I love you so much.” Steve mutters to you, making you and Eddie stop, as both of your heads instantly snap towards him. Your wide eyed expression makes the pretty boy want to bury his head in the pillows in complete embarrassment. The metalhead’s stoic expression isn't helping.
“I-I love you too, both of you.” You admit, as your eyes switch from one boyfriend to the other.
Steve exhales a deep breath as Eddie’s face splits into a beaming smile.
“I love both of you, too. I think an unhealthy amount if I'm being honest.” The older boy jokes, but you and Steve both know there's so much truth behind his words.
“I need to feel you both, right now.” Steve whines, and as much as he’d love to have his boyfriend fuck him, what he really needs is to feel you, as his and Eddie’s cocks rub together.
“My two little needy, sluts.” The metalhead chides, before he’s up on his knees in an instant, pushing Steve down on his back and ripping off his clothes before he’s lifting you by your hips and placing you down on the pretty boy's lower stomach. You gasp in surprise; his strength causes the wetness between your thighs to puddle down on Steve’s happy trail, as he takes Steve’s throbbing cock into his mouth and sucks before he’s taking him deep in his throat and bobbing his head.
Steve sweetly takes your face into his hands, as he brings you closer to his lips, feverishly kissing you as his moans slip into your mouth.
Before you know it, Eddie is popping off of his boyfriend's cock and plunging it into your dripping pussy, making you both groan into the heated kiss.
The long haired boy comes up beside you, watching you both. Steve can no longer keep still, he bucks his hips up into yours causing both of you to moan out louder.
“Does that feel good?” He asks the pretty boy, making him bite his lip and nod with a little “mhm” before he’s fucking up into you even harder.
“Tell her, tell her how good she feels around your cock, Stevie.” Eddie whispers into his neck, sloppy kisses being trailed up to his jaw as the younger boy's eyes are rolling into the back of his head, so much pleasure being given to him, he can barely form the words.
“Y-you f-fuck, you feel so good baby, so good, so good…” he continues to repeat like a prayer as his eyes find yours, watching you as your face contorts in complete contentment.
Eddie’s moving back up onto his knees, not able to take anymore teasing as his cock is rock hard and painfully throbbing from just watching his two loves, making love. He needs to be inside one of you before he explodes.
“Inside her pussy.” Is all Steve says before he’s inching himself in right along the other boy's wet cock.
As much as you all have fucked, they’ve never been in one hole at the same time, well besides your mouth.
“Holy fuck, yes please!” You keen as your hand grasps at the headboard, gripping in such a fashion that your hand begins to ache but you can’t let go, as their cocks move simultaneously inside you.
“Yeah baby, take it.” Eddie growls as his hands cover Steve’s, who’s gripping your hips for dear life.
“I love feeling both of you at the same time. Fuck, it’s too good.” Steve whines before taking your nipple that sways above his head, into his mouth and sucking so hard you cry out, wiggling between them as your hips try to meet their matching thrusts.
“Stay still.” Eddie demands with a harsh slap to your ass, “Let us fuck you, kitten.” He groans as his thrusts get harder, skin slapping echoes out into the dimly lit room.
“Yes, daddy!” You sob as tears begin to form in your eyes at how amazing they feel, how much they’re stretching you out and how the steady fire in your belly begins to ignite deeper and blaze hotter, causing your whole body to shake and your eyes to snap shut.
The familiar build up of fluid can be felt before you're almost being pushed over the edge, about to cum so hard you feel as though you may lose consciousness.
A loud “ahh” is pulled from you as both boys perfectly abuse your g-spot with the tips of their achingly hard cocks. You clench around them so tight, making their sensitive tips rub closer together, bringing even more friction and stimulation.
“Oh fuck yeah, cum for us. Soak our cocks baby, c’mon.” Eddie whimpers, pulling your head back by your chin before he’s spitting into your open, wanton mouth.
You swallow it all down with a content sigh, so fucking close to the precipice of pleasure you can feel it as your toes begin to curl and your now grip on Steve’s shoulders gets tighter.
“Come on, fuck come on, pretty girl. Give it to us, baby. We need it.” The pretty boy groans as he tries to coax your orgasm out, faster.
“Oh, yes! I’m cumming!” You warn before a big splash of liquid drenches both boys, along with your new, red sheets below you.
“Yes, yes, I-Im mmm.” Steve moans as his cock begins to twitch, he paints Eddie's cock and your insides making both boys whimper into your skin.
The metalhead is the last to let go and when he does, he fucks his cum so deep inside you, it brings on one more intense but short orgasm from you. Making you clench again, around their sensitive, overstimulated and softening cocks as more liquid splashes onto their thighs.
The mixture of cum seeps down their shafts and to their balls. Eddie thinks the sight of all three of you mixed together is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he fights his cock from twitching and coming back to life within seconds of such an intense release.
You and Eddie both fall off of Steve, into your respective places with you in the middle.
Both boys grab onto you and each other as if one of you could disappear into thin air, like losing either of you would be instantaneous.
After everyone's breathing settles and the room becomes quiet, Eddie chirps up. “I love you, both. Forever.” He says before he’s placing his head on your chest, his hand slides over your stomach as he reaches for Steve’s, they intertwine their fingers together before their hands settle on your lower stomach and over the sheet you’re all now laid under.
“I can’t wait to spend forever with my two favorite people.”
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•taglist•
@likedovesinthewnd @lil-quinnie @danielabrandt @prettypeachsworld @youare-hackskellington @sebs-oxygen @livsters @wheel-of-hyperfixation @imonhereforareasonsadly @kingdomkitten32 @munson-magic @tiannamortis @katwinchester64 @the-unforgivenn @micheledawn1975 @josephquinnsfreckles @jasminelafleur @emsgoodthinkin @manda-panda-monium @munsonsuccubus @teletubbysteroids @eddies-puppet @munsonssecretblog @eddieslittlewh0re @itsgonnabeoktodsy @randomworker @starrthemushroom @imaautisticchicken @creativename01 @m-chmcl-rmnc @emmerson-1 @siouxiesiouxtryhard @munsonology @pillow-titties @cherryc1nnam0n @wyverntatty @spicedandicedtea @justmeinadaze @violettaskies @bebe07011 @devilinthepalemoonlite @lunatictardis @taintedcigs @aol19 @wheel-of-hyperfixation @m-chmcl-rmnc @sobbingcryingattsizzles @jesuisbenny @munsonsfire @harrypotterzzx @tatianah26
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suzukiblu · 6 months
Text
Excerpt from an in-progress DP x DC soulmate AU starring Jazz Fenton, a very unfortunate mugger, and a smoothie. Oh, and I guess Jason is there too.
Jazz meets her soulmate in, of all places, Park Row. Or as the locals call it, Crime Alley.
Seems about right for her life, she decides as she kicks the shit out of the guy who was trying to stab him for his wallet fifteen seconds ago. Her soulmate watches her curiously, seeming unconcerned by the fuss, and takes a sip of his smoothie.
Also seems about right, for her soulmate. A guy who got too nervous when necessary violence happened was not going to survive Thanksgiving in Amity Park, much less Christmas.
Well, it is Gotham.
"Hi," he says.
"Hi, sorry, one sec," Jazz says, then leans over the groaning mugger and offers him a card to the best local crisis center she's managed to track down via research and word of mouth in the four months she's been in Gotham. Not her card, obviously, since she just roundhouse-kicked the guy in the head to protect her soulmate from him and that's arguably a conflict of interest. Or close enough, anyway. "So you should check these guys out, they've got a very high success rate in their job program and there's an associated food bank and rent assistance, if you qualify."
"What?" the mugger says dazedly.
"Also if you ever touch my soulmate again I'll make you wish for the cold mercy of the Infinite Realms," Jazz adds pleasantly. The guy goes very, very pale. Then he snatches the card from her and runs for his life and eternal soul.
"This is the nicest thing the universe has ever done to me," her soulmate muses, taking another sip of his smoothie.
"Getting you mugged?" Jazz asks wryly, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Are you religious? Do you want kids?" her soulmate asks. "Also, who's your favorite Bat?"
"Robin, obviously," Jazz says. "The overdramatic and feral little stabby one, I mean. He reminds me of my little brother. Makes me feel a little bit maternal, to be honest. So that answers two out of three, and as far as religion goes, I only believe in Psychology Today, highly customized guns, and my mom's ninth-degree black belt."
"This better not awaken anything in me," her soulmate mutters under his breath.
"That seems unlikely, or we wouldn't be soulmates," Jazz says.
"Point," he says, sipping his smoothie again. Jazz didn't even know anywhere in Crime Alley sold smoothies, but she is new around here. "Wanna go break my bed? Or maybe go get coffee?"
"You've already got a smoothie," Jazz says.
"So I do," he says.
Jazz looks him over. He's her soulmate, so she's not surprised to find him gorgeous. She wasn't ever expecting a familial soulmate–Danny is a very intense sibling to have, and her parents are very intense parents to have, not to mention everything about Dani, and "soulcousins" aren't typically a thing–and she's never been especially interested in keeping around too many close friends, so considering all that, she was already expecting her soulmate to be a romantic one. If they are platonic, it's definitely only going to be because her soulmate is an aromantic asexual. Which he probably isn't, since he already asked about kids and religion and if she wanted to go break his bed.
Then again, she's met people who'll posture worse than that. Especially guys, and especially ace ones with a clear investment in their masculinity, and given this particular guy is built like a brick house could only dream to be, chances are he has some feelings about his masculinity. Though he's also drinking a visibly pink smoothie, not a neutral-colored protein shake or generic black coffee, so . . . fifty-fifty there, maybe?
Further inquiry will probably be required.
"I'm Jazz," she tells him. "What's your name?"
"Robin," he says. Then he–pauses. Blinks. "I mean–Robin."
He looks very confused for a second, and Jazz blinks too, and refocuses her eyes a bit. Oh, is he–
"Are you overshadowing that guy?" she assumes. For the love of–of course her soulmate would be a ghost, she thinks dryly. Who'd want a soulmate their mom and dad wouldn't want to grill for information and ask a thousand invasive questions, after all? "I mean, he's really hot, don't get me wrong, he looks good on you, but I'd rather meet you for real."
"'Overshadowing'?" Robin looks bemused.
"I'm Danny's sister," Jazz clarifies. Robin does not look less bemused. "You know, the new king?"
"What?" Robin says. Jazz frowns a little, feeling a bit bemused herself.
"Do you not get out much?" she asks.
"Never, actually, but also yes and constantly and way too often," Robin says. "My job is kind of demanding that way."
"What's your job?" Jazz asks curiously. Ghosts' jobs are always interesting, even if only for how they interact and manifest with their Obsessions. She wonders what his Obsession is, actually, because smoothies seem like an unlikely option but she doesn't have much else to go on here.
Can't be weirder than Box Ghost, either way.
"I'm a Bat," Robin says, then looks absolutely alarmed and also absolutely horrified.
"Huh," Jazz says, tilting her head. He seems really big to be one of the Robins, and a little too old besides. A year or two younger than her, maybe, and even the older Robin she's pretty sure is at best Danny's age. Though that's assuming this body is the one he fights crime in, admittedly. Although it's kinda funny if one of the Bats is just named Robin. Must get annoying on patrol, though. "I didn't know any of you were dead, but I guess that's not actually a surprise either, given the profession."
"Why did I say that to you?" Robin asks tightly.
"I told you, I'm the new king's sister," Jazz says. "You know, it's the royal family thing. Technically I'm his regent, legally speaking, but only because I'm better at paperwork and he doesn't count as a legal adult in the Infinite Realms yet. Hasn't been dead long enough, you know how it is. But I've been alive long enough to, apparently? But his 'being alive' technically stopped tracking at fourteen. It's complicated, basically."
"What the fuck does that mean?!" Robin demands.
"It means you can't lie to me because you're one of my brother's subjects," Jazz says, really not understanding his reaction. Every ghost knows this, after all. The only ones who wouldn't know it are too young to be away from their guardians' haunts or even leave the Infinite Realms at all. Definitely a ghost who knows how to overshadow someone this thoroughly and fully is old enough and experienced enough to know it, though. "Whose body is that, anyway?"
"It's my father's," Robin says. Jazz's eyes widen a little and she has several very concerned internal reactions before he chokes and sputters–"I mean–it's not–he's not–!"
"You realize there is no healthy way to mean that, right?" Jazz says. Robin looks frustrated and freaked out and she feels bad about it, because she didn't mean or want to upset him, but she clearly has. "Sorry. I mean, I still secretly feel like I'm the one parenting my parents half the time, you're not the only one with weird feelings about yours."
"I'm his," Robin says, then grits his teeth in visible pain. He's this close to crushing the smoothie cup he's holding but hasn't actually done it. Jazz wonders if that's an example of deliberate self-control or subconscious restraint.
She's pretty sure Robin didn't mean to say that, though.
"Are you okay?" she asks, a little concerned. Normally ghosts just stop talking about things they want to lie about, when they realize who she is.
"No," Robin says. "I'm just his. I've always been his, I always will be, his good soldier, his worst mistake, not his actual fucking son, why am I telling you this?!"
"I don't know," Jazz says, frowning in increased concern. "Usually people can work around the inability to lie a little bit, but you sound like you're being compelled to speak. Increasingly like, actually. Hm. What's your Obsession? And what kind of core do you have?"
"What?" he says.
"They might be making you unstable, is all," Jazz says. "I don't think it'd be a soulmate thing but to be fair I don't really know how that works. Are you dead, or are you a manifestation of something?"
"I'm dead," Robin says, staring at her. "That bastard clown beat my head in with a crowbar and blew up what was left of me. I woke up in my grave and–I–how did you know that?"
"Well, I didn't, that's why I asked," Jazz says reasonably, idly wondering why the Joker isn't dead yet, since this is Gotham and obviously it wouldn't be another "bastard clown" Robin was referencing, even if he wasn't a Bat. But like, at least dead via the court system, if nothing else. The Joker is insane, yes, but no one can argue he doesn't know right from wrong at this point. Does New Jersey just not have the death penalty, maybe? She hasn't thought to check. "Maybe it's the guy you're in? He's not drunk or high or anything, is he?"
"I hate drugs," Robin says, gritting his teeth again; tightening his grip on the smoothie again. He's trembling, just barely. "I hate them. I'd never touch them. I don't know what you are. You're scaring me. Please stop."
He definitely didn't mean to say that, Jazz can tell.
But . . . he doesn't know what she is.
He doesn't know.
Well, that's a problem.
"Robin," she says gently, and for some reason his face twists painfully at the sound of his own name. "Can I see your core? Please?"
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sugar-coated-slut · 8 months
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𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, some hurt, HEAVY COMFORT, slightly suggestive, suguru bites you once, soaping up suguru's body, hinting at height/size difference, hints at smoking and drinking with suguru, toji doesn't die, NO! he lives with you his wifey and learns how to help you look after megumi, established relationship, daddy/mama/princess, toji feeds megumi with a little struggle, tired!Satoru is doing his best, hints at satoru missing dates,
𝐟𝐞𝐲: had to write some fluff after that last episode, I can't! Let me comfort them all
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𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
He's frozen beneath the rushing shower water. Steam rolls off his muscular back, facing toward you. Splaying his large hand on the wall, his broad shoulders tense. Paying you no mind as you slip into the slower with him.
Slipping your hand through his. "The girls are asleep in the pillow tent. With some cartoons playing for background noise." Trying to ground him, when his brain caught reliving the past. Letting your hand go, turning around, anger and hopelessness hollow his face.
Grabbing your hips, spreading Suguru spreads his large thick fingers out. "Thank you love. You good?" His cheeks are thinner, with deepening dark circles beneath his eyes. The coldness melts in his narrow chocolate-colored eyes. His frown softens to a flat line.
Holding his face, reaffirming, "We're good," as he leans down, passionately kissing you, gently groaning. Parting your lips for him to slip his tongue into your mouth. Hugging Suguru tightly.
Slowly he breaks away, trailing kisses from your jaw to your neck. Biting around the small scar left over from Toji almost slicing your head off, then leaving you to bleed out. Squeezing along your sides.
Biting your lip to keep from crying out when he sinks his teeth in deeper. "I got you sugar-bear. Lemme take care of you." He pulls away kissing your forehead. "I have a blunt waiting for us. We sit on the balcony. I'll brush your hair out." You grab his round sponge hanging next to a unicorn and dragon-shaped loofas.
He won't talk, but you could attempt to distract him momentarily. Give him the attention and care he shows the girls and yourself. "I love you sugar-bear." Pouring his wild lands scented soap onto it. The shampoo's back states a wonderful mix of eucalyptus, white birch, and cypress.
Scrubbing Suguru's broad, muscular chest, rubbing your fingers over his firm tits. Sliding your fingers over his well-defined abs. "I love you too princess.” Trailing his loofa down, scrubbing his v-line and dark short hair. Carefully smearing soap down his soft, fat cock. Careful to make sure soap doesn’t get into his cockhead.
Letting go of his cock to squeeze soap from the loofa into your palm, fondling his balls. Suguru brings up, “I was thinking of cooking breakfast with the girls." He parts his thighs enough for you to clean his ballsack.
Smiling up at Suguru, puckering your lips he lean down giving you a chaste, sweet kiss. "We got the stuff for triple chocolate chunk. You can have Mimi with the muffins. Ko can help me with the omelets and blueberry pancakes." Crouching in front of him, scrubbing down his well-toned, legs, lingering on his muscular thighs.
Lifting his foot, his pale cheeks flushing light pink. “You don’t need to do all this..I can wash myself.” Getting the other one, then standing up. “Aren’t you tired mama?" That is new, but you couldn't help but like the affirmation of his future wife and mother to both adorable girls.
Standing up, getting on the tip of your toes, he leans down for you to kiss his cheeks. Scrubbing his broad shoulders and neck. “I’m tired, but that doesn’t matter." Going down his muscular arm, grabbing his large hand, admiring the size difference between his and yours.
Switching to his other arm, "I want to daddy.” Suguru eyes widen momentarily, the corner of his lips pulling up into a soft smile. "We're a family aren't we, gotta make sure you’re taken care of." A couple of tears trickle down his cheek.
Holding your hand, rising the soap off, “All that's missing is a ring." Kissing your knuckles. "I'm so grateful I have you and the girls."
𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
Two hours late.
'We should cancel, 😥 it's good. See you when you can make the time. I understand you're busy 😘😘. I'm going to get cozy, order some takeout.🍴You got the key, be quiet coming in if I'm asleep.'
Unzipping your dress, slipping out of it. Walking into the bathroom to toss it the hamper of barely worn clean worn that you need to hang back up. Setting your phone down, it buzzes. It's screen lights up a text from Satoru.
'Got caught up. We can still go, I got time.'
You want to go with him on late night date, but you can’t stop thinking of his bloodshot, tired eyes the last time you got a peak. It has you thinking getting a full night’s rest sounds better.
'I know you're trying. If you can come in the next few by we chill, I'm tired 🥱 n' want to fall asleep with you watching some cartoons. 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼You could use some rest for once, 😴😴 otherwise this is the last kiss for a week. 😤😒'
Snapping a quick video, blowing him a quick kiss. Adding I love you for the caption. You're cleaning your face when Satoru responds.
'Noooo you can't! EVIL. ✋🏻 I don't need sleep, fine 😒 😫😩😫😒 I'll sleep if you stay in the bed with me. 🥰🥰 I'll come right over in another hour 😖🥺.' 'Can you wait to eat till then, 🥺🥺 I'll bring something, anything you want. I left some work clothes over? I can walk around your naked 🥴'
Taking your fash wash, lotion, and face/eye mask out to start your face care routine. Waiting to see if Satoru would have anything else to say before texting him.
'Cleaned them so they smell like lavender. 😁 N' got some comfy clothes for you if you want them, you'll look good. 😮‍💨 But I don't mind seeing your sexy ass sleep-deprived ass resting naked in my bed.’
Opening Satoru’s blurry Snapchat video of him loudly proclaiming his love from an unknown location. There’s a loud boom marking the end of the video. Your chest tightens, breathing in till your lungs are about to burst and the slowly letting it go. Refusing to indulge obsessively thinking about everything that could go wrong.
It’s an hour later when Satoru sends; ‘I get kisses 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 and morning boob if I sleep? 😍😍 Also what are you craving sweetheart?’ Among setting your bed up with the squish-a-mellows Satoru adores cuddling into. You figured out what you want.
‘Cơm tấm! And the usual comfort favorite dessert. At least seven hours! ✋🏽😤 then morning boob 🥰😘’
The next time you hear from him is when Satoru announces, “I’m home! Give me kisses if you want your food.” Rushing into the living room, where he holds your take out above his head. Pointing at his cheek with an enormous grin on his face.
Loudly kissing his cheek and the tip of his nose with a “Mmmaw!” Grabbing the food once he lowers it. “Come on I got the bedroom cozy for us with some stuffed animals for you to knock off by morning.” Wrapping his arm around your waist, leaning down loudly covering your face in kisses.
Kissing your lips last, his breathy moan sounds as if he’s been waiting for this all day. Parting your lips for him for his tongue. He’s kisses are so gentle, passionate, and beautiful noisy. Slipping your fingers through his, breaking away, tugging him towards your bedroom.
“I’ll give you more kisses after I get you undressed, and relaxing before you fall over from exhaustion.” Taking the food from him, it’s crinkles sounding louder in the small space of the hallway.
Satoru scoffs, “You worry too much.” His large soft hand enveloping yours is comforting. He’s here, able to relax, and get some well needed rest.
Squeezing his hand, he squeezes back, “You shouldn’t worry, I’m the strongest.” Rolling your eyes, shuffling into your bedroom, dimly lit by vanilla and cinnamon candles.
Setting the food aside on the bedside table. “Don’t care what you call yourself, doesn't matter how strong you are," He flops onto your bed, burying his face into a multicolored squish. "You’re still mine to worry about, and care for.” He rolls over, pulling his mask up temporarily.
His dark circles have gotten bigger, the whites of his eyes tinted pink. “Can have a kiss n’ be small-“ he pauses yawning, "spoon tonight?”
𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
Wiping the sleep out of your eyes, shuffling towards Megumi's bedroom. "Latch fucker, you'll like the damn food n' sleep like baby." The golden glow of the lamp lets you see frustrated Toji cradling a grumpy Megumi trying to bottle-feed him.
Megumi is pressing his lips in a firm line, failing his chunky baby arms the best he can, kicking his little feet. Silently protesting the bottle Toji has.
Keeping your voice low, "He's going to mimic you when he can speak." You sit in the second rocking chair and leaning over. Smiling at your husband and son, Megumi's grumpy face matches Toji's too well.
Toji's eyes are bloodshot. "Then what do I do? Tell me so I can start figurin’ out how to be a good dad." His voice is rough, and you can smell whiskey on his breath. He's been up having a glass after another nightmare.
Megumi holds his hands out for you Toji scoffs, “He hates me already. What the-ugh.” You hold your hand out for Megumi to grab onto one of your fingers. His grip gets stronger with each passing month.
Megumi finds comfort in holding your hand, trying to put your fingers in his mouth. Settling his kicking legs, holding them in close to his self. “He doesn’t, being a parent going to be challenging the whole time but we can do it together.” You don’t think your words reach him.
After years by his side he’s slowly divulged his fear of fatherhood. Letting you know part of his fucked up childhood in after some liquor loosened his tongue.
Megumi presses a hand to Toji’s cheek. He flushed pink, his eyes soften as Megumi grins. Kicking his little legs and cooing. You point out, “See he is just happy to see me. Since he has settled lightly put some milk on his lip. He'll lick it and then want some more.” Slowly pulling your hand away, Megumi lightly pats Toji’s cheeks with soft smack.
“Eyy! What this attacking you’re old man? I’m tryin’.” Toji gently squeezes the baby bottle, droplets of milk over Megumi’s bottom lip. His little tongue darts out to lick it, his eyes widen, letting go of your finger to try and grab the bottle. This time he latches when Toji gives it to him.
“There he goes!” You can hear the pride in your husband’s voice. Standing up kissing Toji’s cheek, and crouching down to kiss Megumi's forehead, overcome with love. "I love ya both, I'm tryin' sweetheart. At least he isn't crying at me anymore." Megumi manages to grab Toji’s fingers, digging in his quickly growing baby nails.
“We love you too Toji. Gumi will let you know when he gets a little older. It won't be too much longer and he'll be four years old running around with your grumpy face." Lightly rubbing Megumi's soft baby head, fuzzy with short, black fluffy hair.
Toji hisses, "Ow!" Looking up you, "when the kid gets older I can play some games with him. But for now, tomorrow we need to cut his nails." He wiggles his large finger that Megumi is latched onto. Standing up, yawning, stretching your arms out trying to keep yourself awake to enjoy this moment with your family.
Ghost your fluffy white cat scambles into the room, hoping onto Toji's lap. Softly sniffling Megumi. He lets go of Toji in favor of gently grabbing a tuff of Ghost's thick white cheek fur. "Hey, that doesn't mean you can join." Rolling your eyes.
You call Toji out, "You spoil Ghost more than I do. Don't act like you don't cuddle her, give her wet food, make sure her fur isn't tangled." Easing Megumi's hand out of Ghost's fur. She hops onto the side table, adoringly staring up at Toji awaiting her moment to have his attention.
You add, "I've seen how hard you've worked on yourself to be a better man for me to marry. Now I know you'll do the same for our baby." Megumi closes his eyes, his suckling slowly down. Milk trickled down his chin onto the little towel Toji put, trying to keep Megumi's onesie clean.
Toji lowers his voice leaning in for you to hear him. “Why don’t you go back to sleep, Once I put him down, I'll come back to bed, hold you too.” Frowning, taking your seat back by him, and making yourself comfortable.
Petting Ghost between her fuzzy ears. She instantly climbs into your lap, curling up. Her loud purring filling up the room. "I'm good, want to share this with you." This bonding moment is too cute for you to walk away from.
strawberry brat all works
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missroki · 2 months
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OFFICE CRUSH┊when choso kamo’s pretty coworker asks him out, he doesn’t ask questions. it’s no surprise that the quiet IT guy isn’t exactly gifted in the art of romance, but you seem more than capable of showing him the ropes.
content: black coded!female reader x choso, office au, 90s rom-com adjacent, alcohol, flirting (!!!), choso being awkward, car sex, reader has braids, terms used are baby and good girl, no obvious power dynamics, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (pull out method), purposefully lowercase. word count: 3.5k
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“are you busy tonight?”
a sudden pause in the typing of keys, pale hands hovering over a manilla colored keyboard. choso stops coding as if it would have helped him hear you better.
“…huh?”
you ask your coworker out on a late wednesday afternoon, rocking back and forth on your heels with your hands clasped behind your back. your eyes are bright and determined in a way that tells him you mean what you say… but, for a minute, choso can’t do anything more than stare.
he’d only seen you in passing in the office, the click of your black pumps recognized easily in the sea of heavy loafers and dress shoes. despite your choice in footwear, you were often moving.
never has the man seen you sitting from his place in the IT department. you were always walking, or more accurately strutting down the halls, looking straight down with a handful of files and notebooks; always busy.
there’s a slight shift in your face (as if you’re going to repeat what you said) but choso interjects. he heard you clearly enough the first time, he was just a man with social skills that left much to be desired.
he answers you, cursing the shake in his voice. "n-no… i don’t think so but... why?" maybe you had a virus on your computer? or perhaps you were in need of fresh eyes on your interim report? choso thinks that maybe you need a spare thumb drive or the key to the electronics closet. he thinks you are here for a favor, something transactional that will explain the soft, polite smile on your lips.
he is proven wrong when you move closer into his space and rest your bottom against his desk, clasped hands now resting on your lap. he tries his best to not stare at your stocking-clad thighs. he wonders how warm they would feel under his hands.
“well,” you start, “since you aren’t busy, we can go out for a drink, right?”
choso feels his nose twitch, watching as your gaze follows the birthmark on his nose. he realizes that you are waiting for a response and clears his throat.
“my brother might need me… he gets home from school pretty early nowadays.”
you smile and tilt your head. "yuuji, right? pink hair, high school student? big ball of sunshine?”
he blinks once, then twice. okay. “that would be him… how did you know that?”
you shift your hips to face him better, palm on the desk as you lean over to point at the lone personal item he has.
it’s a picture of choso and his brother, old and slightly blue at the edges from water damage. “he showed up once because he left his house key at home. you went down and brought him yours.”
admittedly, choso barely remembers this interaction. he curses his stomach for warming at the fact that you do. “oh.”
despite his lackluster response, your smile doesn’t waver, acrylic nails tapping against the surface that he works on everyday. it’s those gentle clicks that make his eyes shift downwards to where the sound is coming from, distracting him.
a holiday on his calendar mousepad is covered by your pink and red fingernails.
“you’re… interesting,” you offer as explanation, “and i want to spend time with you. is that alright?”
you’re beautiful, he thinks. beautiful in a way that he doesn’t see often; pretty brown skin and soft-looking braided hair. he wonders how long it takes you to twist the strands in such an intricate way. he wonders if it would be weird for him to ask.
choso hesitates, but eventually nods. “…i’m sure yuuji won’t miss me too much.” he concludes, the smallest of lop-sided grins on his face. “it’ll only be for a little while, right?”
you sit up and choso feels as if he can breathe again without your intoxicating scent so close to him. you dramatically cross a finger over your heart. 
“you’ll be home by ten. scout’s honor.”
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choso is certain now of three things:
one, he likes strawberry daiquiris. two, he really likes drinking them with you. and three, you were most definitely not a girl scout.
he knows this because it is already eleven thirty pm and you have sneakily convinced him to stay longer than intended. after a few rounds you became alarmingly convincing.
even with choso’s clumsy coin fumbling and the obvious red flush of his face, your companion is positive that he is not drunk. you smile as your cloudy mind focuses on the pretty arch of his cupid's bow and the deep set of his tired eyes.
with warming alcohol in his system, choso finds himself loosening up more and more. his gaze wanders without fear of you noticing.
it doesn’t change the fact that you do.
his suit jacket is draped on your lap to cover your legs, your pink blouse curving along your chest so firmly that it’s hard to look away.
suddenly, you lean in to sip his drink (which confuses him since you have your own) and choso has to try his best to refrain from staring at your breasts as they press against the bar table. as the night has progressed you’ve gotten more bold, more touchy. he likes it. he likes you and the small hint of lipstick that stains his pink straw now.
you sit back up and wipe away the condensation from the hand that was holding the glass steady.
“is this a birthmark?” you ask with glassy eyes, a cold thumb moving up to caress the deep purple line on his nose bridge. choso is just drunk enough that his heart flutters and he doesn’t pass out on the spot.
“yes, i was born with it.” he pauses, thinking that you want him to elaborate. “yuuji used to joke and say they must have used a permanent marker to tell me apart from the other babies.”
you laugh and it’s a small thing but… choso can’t help but to grace you with a lazy smile. “it’s nice. makes you look more unique.” your thumb moves up to his dark circles, pressing gently into the skin. he feels warmth pool in his belly. the alcohol, he thinks. “i’m going to assume these are more man made?”
he nods, heart beating fast against his chest. your hand is gentle and your eyes are kind. choso wonders if you have always been so sweet, if the heavy burdens of adult life haven’t quite hit you in the same way they have him. is that weird? he won’t say that out loud. “yeah, i don’t get much sleep.”
“i’m definitely not helping with that.” you frown a little and choso thinks of every possible way he could make you smile again. “that’s no good. who’ll help yaga out when he falls for another pop up porn ad?”
he laughs at that, feels it deep in his stomach. you’re funny, choso thinks. you’re pretty. your lips look soft and he wants to kiss you.
“i think you’re more than capable–“
“hey, is that–? kamo-chan!”
a shrill voice comes from across the bar, onlookers (that are suspiciously all couples tonight) glancing over to get a glance at whoever was making a fuss. to choso’s horror, he sees a familiar head of long blue hair, a large smile that barely fits the face of the person wearing it.
behind him is a small group of people wearing the usual business casual with an assortment of red and pink items like… heart shaped headbands? he can tell by the way they stumble over that this is perhaps the second or third bar of the night.
“all these years of me trying to get you to come out and you only do it when she asks you to?” mahito pouts, an arm moving to rest around your shoulders. if you’re annoyed by his interruption, you don’t make it known. you smile easily and return his side hug.
choso wonders now if physical affection is something you give out freely. maybe he’d interpreted your earlier touches wrong, as something less than innocent.
he feels a blush rising to his cheeks and hopes you assume it is just the booze.
“maybe i’m just more convincing,” you tease, “i wanted to spend some time with one of our most valuable team members. working with a bum like you can really mess with my productivity.”
mahito gasps dramatically. “wow! i guess there must be love in the air then!” there’s a small sea of laughter that follows. choso begins to once again realize that it is not you two alone anymore, that your entire department has somehow managed to force their way into the imaginary bubble you’d built around each other.
someone suggests you all move to a booth and he feels his social battery deplete within seconds.
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another hour passes before choso finally realizes that he is way in over his head. mahito has managed to simultaneously steal all of your attention and even some of choso’s as well.
he’s funnier than him, he thinks. even with his weird scarred skin and bony frame you seem to enjoy his company and the child-like way he downs shots of tequila as if they’re water. he licks salt from various places and you chuckle and smile affectionately, like he’s a puppy.
is that what you were into? guys who could talk to you for hours about nothing at all? choso doesn’t think he could ever be that man. he was awkward and somewhat insecure. you were well liked and that meant you’d be hard to keep entertained. it’s a role he isn’t sure he can fill for you.
everyone is laughing, including you. something about the department that choso would have no knowledge of.
trying his best to avoid knocking shoulders with anyone, the man removes himself from the suffocating booth, back aching from the way he had to twist at all times to fit in the space.
choso thinks he’s always been like that. taking up space; having to make himself smaller in order to fit where he didn’t belong to begin with.
his hands reach for his pockets, glancing down to make sure he didn’t leave his wallet. when he lifts his head, he finds that your eyes are on now him.
your face tells him that you’re a bit alarmed at his leaving but he doesn’t wait for you to announce it to everyone before he’s moving quickly to the back door.
the hinges creak loudly, the threshold slightly damp as he shuffles out. it’s raining, he realizes. a drizzle that quickly dampens his dark hair.
the flickering streetlight illuminates his old car, the path straight ahead as he makes his way across the barely lit alleyway. his mind is clearer than it was in the suffocating bar atmosphere, but it is still muffled by anxious thoughts.
it’s because of this that he doesn’t hear the click of high heels against wet pavement.
“choso!” you call out, a small huff in your voice as you abruptly stop behind him. he blinks hard to rid his eyes of water, turns around to find you holding something, his jacket. oh. “you’re leaving without saying goodbye?”
you look upset, concerned even. choso quickly takes his jacket from you so that he can use it to cover your head — not really thinking when he does it. you give him a curious look.
“your hair,” he explains, “it’ll get... wet out here.”
you roll your eyes playfully, walking closer until you are almost chest to chest. “i don’t care about that right now.” you hum, eyes trying desperately to meet his. he turns his head and you boldly grip his chin. your fingertips are so warm. “did i do something wrong? are you upset with me?”
he reaches a hand out to gently hold your wrist, thumb against your pulse point. “not upset, just thought you might want to end the night with people you know… i’m not good with groups.”
you think this over for a moment and nod. “yeah i… i should have guessed that, actually. you were probably overwhelmed. i’m sorry.”
“you don’t have to be…” he murmurs. “i just needed to get away and i didn’t want to ruin anyone’s night.”
you let go of his chin, both hands coming up to push his now soaked hair away from his face, the strands curl around his ears where your hands rest. without realizing, his touch has settled on your waist. you don’t seem to mind.
“i like you." you admit, brazenly. “i have for a while now.”
"i’m sorry." he responds instinctively, not really processing your confession at first. you really laugh at that and it makes his mind go numb for a moment. “i mean… i like you, too. a lot, actually.”
you smile and it’s so blindingly beautiful. how did he go without knowing you for so long? “i hoped so… i saw the way you were watching me earlier. i thought you were gonna kiss me a couple of times.”
something in his mind twitches, directly in the space next to mischief and only a step away from desire.
“did you want me to?”
you eyes widen just a fraction. now it is your turn to be flustered. choso finds himself relishing in that just a little. “…what?”
maybe a… lottle.
“did you… want me to kiss you?” his thumbs rubs gentle circles on your blouse covered tummy, the motion soothing and weirdly familiar. like the smell of a perfume that hits you with unknown nostalgia, the hint of someone from your past.
you lean in slightly, nose gently nudging his. “i still do.” you whisper, “would that be okay?”
your breathes mingle, barely an inch separating the two of you. choso finds himself laughing at the cheesiness of it all. 
you aren’t his first kiss, but he imagines that kissing in the rain will still be rom-com worthy.
“more than okay.” he murmurs.
his lips press to yours.
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choso is certain now of three things:
one, he likes kissing you. two, he really likes kissing you. and three, your mouth is the best thing he has ever felt.
the backseat of his compact suv is just enough for you both to fit, your legs on either side of his hips as your hands explore his body. your tongue has managed to touch every inch of choso’s neck and chest, blushing red spots appearing on his soft pale skin.
your left hand traces over the mark on his ribs, large and expansive. he has to hold in a moan when you run your fingertips against it. “you’re so sensitive,” you hum, “are you nervous?”
he starts to unbutton your blouse, let’s his thumbs find your still covered nipples. he grazes his nail against the fabric, isolating the movement as you let out a soft gasp. “not nervous,” he responds. “i just really want you. you’re… gorgeous.”
you try to hide how much this affects you but choso can see it in the way your eyes soften at his praise. “thank you.” you breathe out, helping him by unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the ground with your already discarded stockings.
it barely hits the floor mat before choso’s mouth latches onto your chest, tongue swirling as his lips suck on the perky brown bud. your nails immediately tangle into his damp hair and your hips begin to grind on their own.
a hand reaches down between your legs and you whimper as your panties are forced to the side. “can i touch you?” he asks, lips trailing from one of your breasts to the other. “wanna make you feel good, need to get you ready for me.”
you nod with a giggle. “oh, yeah? you that big down there kamo-san?”
he is dead serious when he replies. “yes.”
choso’s fingers are long and your cunt lets him in with very little resistance. he’s glad to know his kisses made you melt for him so easily, a surge of confidence emerging. your thighs shift as you grind against his hand, the other against your back as your braids weave throughout his fingers. he’s careful not to tug, just feeling the smoothness of them against his skin.
“is this okay?” he asks, leaning in to press soft kisses to your neck.
you nod, relishing in the feeling of his surprisingly fit body beneath your hands. you would have never expected him to be so… strong and firm. you imagine him sweaty and panting, lifting weights over his head as you watch from the corner. your patience grows thin at the thought. you want him. now.
“choso,” you whimper, your plea immediately making him halt his movements. 
“are you okay? what’s wro-“ you silence him with your lips and lift your thighs so that his soaked fingers ease from your heat. your hand moves to tug down his slacks, the belt already unbuckled as you caress the obvious swell of his cock. his breath hitches as he goes to grip your waist. “s-shit, i see. you want me to– okay, i’ll give it to you.”
he allows you to pull out his cock and you gasp as it throbs and twitches against his stomach. it’s… huge. long and thick with a deeply flushed tip.
you stare at it so intently that your lover feels self conscious. “is it… okay?” he asks, watching your expression with curiosity.
you glance up at him and sense his worry, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “you’re perfect, choso. don’t worry. i’m just… surprised.”
he rubs your back tenderly, hoping to ease your concern. “i’ll go slow. i promise.”
when you ease down on him, choso has to fight the burning urge to immediately shoot his load. you’re just so tight and warm that it makes him dizzy. it’s only when you take him to the base that he holds you still. “i’ll let you get used to it first. then we can keep going. just stay still and i’ll—“
suddenly, you lift and slam back down on top of him. your movement is so sharp that choso chokes on his words, the fluttering of your pussy making him clench his abs to fight away his release.
he can barely think before your body is bouncing on top of him, your forehead pressing against his. you read his mind, seemingly. “don’t think,” you gasp out, “j-just fuck me, choso.” 
“i – oh fuck – i don’t want to hurt you.”
“you won’t, baby. i promise i can take it.” you move his hands from your waist to your ass, prompting him to squeeze at the soft flesh. “i can take it.”
his desire to treat you gently is not as strong as the pleasure he’s feeling, and soon choso is thrusting faster up into your cunt, gripping your ass to move you up and down.
“oh!” you cry out, perky breasts bouncing in his face with each hurried thrusts.
“shit.” he grits out, jaw clenched as he uses your pretty body. “take it,” choso whines, “fuckin’ take it.”
your pussy clenches at his words, panting and moaning against his mouth as your orgasm builds. “i-i think i’m gonna cum. c-choso i–“
one of his hands cup the back of your neck, his eyes not leaving yours as you spasm and twitch on his lap.
“it’s okay. let go for me. i’ve got you, baby.”
you cum with a sharp gasp, unable to look away with his strong hand keeping you in place. “good girl,” he murmurs, “such a good girl… let me fuck you through it.”
your body slumps against his, but choso doesn’t stop his movements. his cock plunges in and out of your hole, stretching you out as your cum drips down to his heavy balls. he wants to cum in you, to fill you up with his load until it drips between your legs… but he knows he has to save it for another time.
his orgasm hits him like a tidal wave; sudden and breath taking as he spills his load between you two, coating both of your stomachs in a sticky layer of white.
you whimper as it quickly cools, giggling at the face choso makes when you grab his shirt to clean you both up. he looks like a cat, disgruntled and pouting. you shrug. “it’s your cum.”
he couldn’t argue with that.
it’s weirdly comfortable, the time after your encounter where you both tug on your clothes, minus choso’s christened white button up.
you tell him he looks better without it, fingertips grazing his abdomen teasingly. he has half the mind to take you again, but there would be more time to get to explore your body.
maybe if he played his cards right you’d let him taste you.
choso imagines that the always empty electronics closet will be a perfect location.
“hey,” you whisper, hand pushing his dark hair behind his ear.
choso lets out a hum, twisting his neck so that his lips press tenderly to your wrist “yeah?”
you smirk. “happy valentine’s day.”
… oh.
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note: hello, this is an old fic of mine that i’ve re-written and given a new v-day flair. thanks for reading and happy (early) love day.
MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.
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fathomlessgaze · 21 days
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artistry: you paint colors all over zayne's skin before he has to leave
very suggestive mdni + maybe some fluff+angst, zayne/reader, ~1.2k
warnings: 18+ only, making out, lots of hickeys/marking/bruises, they're both possessive tbh, an innuendo, implied to take place before medical rescue with allusions to things discussed in it but no spoilers for what happens in the card itself, allusions to foreseer lore, use of yn, pet names (my love, darling)
an: zayne in turtlenecks...the dawns shadow card......yeah...
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pulling back, you take a look at your handiwork, the colors and splotches scattered over zayne’s neck. with his face tinged an uncharacteristic red and his collarbones no longer an empty canvas of pale skin, you think he’s nothing like the rumors that fly around the hospital. it doesn’t take much at all to reduce him to putty at your fingertips, so long as that person is, well, you.
you lace a hand through his hair, only further tousling the ruffled strands and causing a little groan to fall from his lips. on instinct, his hands fly to your hips, lowering your frame that straddles him to his lap. “yn,” he breathes, “please, hold on.”
he pants as he raises his lowered gaze to meet your eyes, his hazel orbs boring into your own with a sternness that makes you bite down on your lip. “just because i’m not in the hospital this week doesn’t mean i won’t be going outside at all,” he sighs.
pouting, you bring your palm to his jaw, brushing over his cheek. “i’m just…i’m gonna miss you.”
“we will see each other in a few days, won’t we, my love?” 
you drape your wrists on his shoulders and lay your head down in the crook of his neck with a quiet sigh. “i don’t like waiting…” 
there’s a quirk to his lips at your words and he turns his head to plant a kiss on the crown of yours. “it’s just a couple days, and i’m sure you have a lot of preparations to do at work in the meantime.” 
while you know you’re being petulant, you can’t help it. you think zayne and his presence have bled themselves into every part of your life and being. you can’t remember what you did before him, and knowing the frequent power outages near the mountain and both of your busy upcoming schedules, you probably won’t be able to talk much. what are you supposed to do without him? what are you supposed to do when one day feels like a year? when a week brings an air of deja vu that makes a pit form in your stomach, as if you’ve been torn apart without him beside you before?
“i guess,” you mumble, sniffling.
“don’t cry, yn,” he exhales. he brings a hand from your hip to your face, thumbing away the small droplet that falls from the corner of your eye. 
“what if something happens to you?” your murmur.  
“nothing will happen,” he whispers. “i will be okay; i have done these rescue missions many times before.”
you let out a small whimper as you kiss the corner of his mouth, letting your own linger, your breaths practically becoming his. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
even though he tries his best to downplay the way your care and concern reach his heart, you know him better than that, the faintest blush of pink building on his hot cheeks. he attempts once more at a serious expression as you discuss safety, a topic he wishes you would yield more to, but alas… pondering his options, a small smirk sneaks past his attempt to put on a nonchalant facade at your words. “i will promise that…but only if you promise me the same thing first.” 
“fine.” you pout, a much quicker agreement than he was expecting. “i promise.” 
you lean in close, your small exhale lingering between the two of you before your mouths meet once more and you gently nibble on his lower lip. a small moan escapes him, vibrating through your kiss and to your own body, but even he can’t make you forget your purpose. not this time, at least.
steeling yourself, you put on a stern glare as you pull away and ignore the pang from your separation that blooms in your gut. “your turn.”
he stares with a quiet intensity as you pull away, trying to feign impassivity despite his round pupils that watch your movement carefully, giving away everything you may want to know. taking your fingers in his own, he brings them to his lips, locking eyes with you all the way. “very well then. i promise.” 
knowing him, you can predict how his business trip will begin without you there and you shoot him a pointed look. “and the first thing we’re doing when i get there is having a meal together.”
his hand reaches for your jaw and cheekbones once more, cupping your face tenderly in his large palm. “alright then.” 
when you finally are satisfied with his response, resting your head back on his shoulder, you pucker your lips to his skin once again, pressing lazy kisses along his jaw. his muscles stiffen beneath you as you continue adding new colors and marks to his skin, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder as he caves in.
“yn,” he warns lowly, the last bits of rationality trying to claw back at what’s taken over the rest of his thoughts. “at this rate everyone will know what we’ve been up to when i get to the base.”
“good,” you hum, the vibrations echoing along his skin. “i don’t know who’ll be there.”
maybe this was always a losing battle.
“so maybe that’s what i want.”
this was definitely always a losing battle, he decides. zayne would like to think he’s very diligent in whatever he decides to put his mind to, but if there’s anything he just can’t do, at least not without extreme difficulty, it’s saying no to you, especially when you give him your signature cute little look or use some of your other equally persuasive methods. 
your eyes flicker to his before you resume your work, painting warm splotches along his neck and collarbone. “maybe everyone should know you’re mine. just in case.”  
he moans at your words, tightening his grip around your waist, but he admittedly tilts his head, giving you more room to continue your efforts. 
a beat passes before you pull away to admire the latest artwork you’ve added to the collection of marks you’ve made tonight. “you look really good in that turtleneck anyway,” you whisper, pressing one last gentle kiss to soothe the spot before moving to the next inch of his skin to tease. 
something in your words jumpstarts what’s been hiding, lying low, in the back of his mind. his gaze hardens at your words, his hands finding and squeezing your hips to still you so he can flip you both and is hovering over you. “oh, darling, you better believe i won’t be the only one who will have to cover up marks and bruises.”
sure, he’ll have to get up earlier and do a lot to hide all the work you’ve done on his collarbones for the next few days at minimum…at least until you arrive and can help him conceal all of your “art” on his skin. but there’s no way he’s going down without a fight. and when he plants his lips under your jaw, hovering dangerously close to your pulse point that thuds along to the unsteady rhythm in your ears, you know it’s over for you. it’s gonna be a long night. not that you mind exactly…
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arachine · 2 years
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— 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?: 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬
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+ 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝: multiple stranger things men
+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature
+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content
+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so…i’m back. It’s been so long since i’ve posted the first dick analysis, and i just couldn’t resist doing one for the stranger things men! this is just a filler post until i finish writing some of my requests and outlining the first few chapters of my eddie munson series. until then, please enjoy this, i had a lot of fun just spewing all of my whore thoughts into this >.<
+ part two here !
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+ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: the small font is a stylistic choice. if you are having trouble reading, i suggest you adjust your iphone’s settings!
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eddie “the freak” munson
↻ length: the social pariah, eddie munson, is many things. he’s loud, obnoxious, witty, and…a freak. yeah, he roleplays with 15 year old kids, and yeah, he very well may be a super senior–having repeated the 12th grade three times–but those things don’t really make him a freak. no, the thing that makes him a freak is the unnecessarily long, heavy piece of meat that swings between his legs like a pendulum. 
coming in at just about 6 inches flaccid, and 7.5 inches fully erect, eddie takes the cake for this lists’ third longest dong. 
↻ width: eddie’s a pretty skinny guy, and so, his dick’s probably not much thicker than a febreeze bottle. but it’s okay, because skinny dick, is still good dick. 
↻ color: he’s pale but it’s definitely a little tanner than the rest of his body. i’d say it’d progressively get darker the closer it gets to his tip (which is a beautiful mauve-y color that darkens when erect).
extra: 
↻ groomed: it’s the 80s, and he’s a metalhead with a wild mane of hair on his head, so naturally, i think he’d rock a little bush. just a little one, but on occasion, he will tackle it with some scissors and trim it down a bit. 
↻ curved: oh, god, yes. deliciously curved to the left with a plump, mushroomy head. 
↻ veins: duh! two thick veins that begin underside the shaft and split into a fork just beneath the head. 
↻ how he uses it: gonna just go ahead and say it, and this may be controversial, but i honestly think eddie would love putting you in a full nelson. now before you scrunch your nose in disagreement, just LISTEN. he’s such a skinny motherfucker but i just know there’s some muscle under those black skinny jeans and tees. i mean, we all saw that scene where he pinned steve against the wall with a broken beer bottle to his throat—albeit because he was defending himself—but that’s neither here nor there. eddie fucks, and he fucks good. 
steve “good hair” harrington 
↻ length: steve is a ken doll personified. except, unlike a ken doll, there’s actually something down there besides a flat surface—so rest assured, you won’t have to worry about bumping purses when doing the woo hoo. but here’s another controversial opinion: steve doesn’t have a big dick—it’s average, and that’s okay!
steve’s dick rests at a firm 5.3 inches flaccid, and a good 6.5 inches erect. not too big, and not too small. just…perfect, like him. 
↻ width: for what he lacks in length, he makes up for in girth! yeah, you’re getting 6 inches, but he’s hitting you with that stretch—and it burns, but in the best way imaginable. 
↻ color: the prettiest boy in hawkins has to have the prettiest cock, right? i think it’d be pretty light in comparison to the rest of his body. when i think of him, i feel like he’d be one of those guys who are kinda tan but when they take off their pants, they have the most bizarre looking tan lines ever, and their ass is brighter than the moon! anyway, i digress; it’d be pretty pale with a mean, red tip when aroused, and strawberry pink when it’s soft. 
extra: 
↻ groomed: yes. he keeps it really simple. shaves it down real low but not enough to the point where he’s bald. 
↻ curved: as straight as a pencil 
↻ veins: has one on the top of his shaft that wraps around the head 
↻ how he uses it: we’re talking about steve here. steve the womanizer, steve the public enemy and panty dropper of seasons one through three. he’s all about that doggy style life. don’t let his himbo persona in season four fool you, that man is a whore! he likes to get down and dirty, and if that includes you on your hands and knees, with your face shoved into the sheets while your tears drip down onto the sheets…then, so be it. 
billy “ima turn you out” hargrove
↻ length: i am not a billy hargrove enjoyer but i can’t sit here and lie to you, i just won’t. that silly little fella’s got a cock the size of a bull… 
8.2 inches. 
no, i’m not taking criticism. he’s big, end of story. 
↻ width: the length matches the girth, sis. if you think you can take him—you can’t. and if you think i’m kidding—i’m not. think coke bottle, but longer.  
↻ color: tanned to perfection, because of course it is, he was a lifeguard for god sake! 
extra: 
↻ groomed: like steve, he keeps it pretty well trimmed. although, sometimes, he lets it grow out so he can show off his happy trail. and a sight to see it is!
↻ curved: oh my days, it curves to the right—like a lot. a real captain hook. 
↻ veins: absolutely covered in ‘em, but the most prominent one resides on the side of his shaft and if you really look at it, it kinda looks like a little lighting bolt. 
↻ how he uses it: you can’t have sex with billy and expect intimacy, that just isn’t happening. he likes it with absolutely no strings attached and no eye contact. so, expect to be thrown into all types of obscure positions, his favorite of which includes you with half of your body hanging off the bed and him pounding mercilessly into you from behind. honestly, as long as billy gets a view of your ass, he doesn’t really care.
jim “big zaddy” hopper 
↻ length: the biggest dick on this list. a true monster cock, that is it, that is all. 
but if i had to give a specific measurement…9 inches. whether that’s his measurement soft or erect, i’ll let you be the judge of that.  
↻ width: he’s so thick that he’d probably split your pussy open if he didn’t properly prepare you, and even then, you’d still never be prepared enough :(
↻ color: i’d say it would be one or two shades darker than his complexion, and the head is definitely not pink. more like a rouge mixed with a little brown.  
extra: 
↻ groomed: jim just gives grown man, you know? like obviously, he is one, but i just think there’s something so sexy about a man with body hair! so, i don’t think he’d keep it well trimmed, or trimmed at all for that matter. and if he does decide to take a pair of scissors to it, it’s very, very rare. 
↻ curved: surprisingly, no. it’s straight, but extremely heavy and he has big man balls to match. 
↻ veins: yes, just like billy, they’re all over. with a dick as big as his, he’s gonna need all the veins he can get to transport the appropriate amount of blood to it. 
↻ how he uses it: very traditional, very cute and sweet. likes to fuck in missionary because he’s a real man, and he prefers to look into his lover’s eyes while pleasuring them. however, that doesn’t mean he’s a prude. if he wants to, he could put you in a full nelson, but he usually just opts for something that won’t throw his old man back out :)
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© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit.
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leonw4nter · 3 months
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Hold Me, Hold Me, I'm Your Bunny
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RE2R!Leon x F!Reader AU
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“It’s cold, rookie. Go put on a jacket,” Marvin tells Leon.
His superior isn’t wrong; the night had turned out to be a bit more chilly than Leon had anticipated, which prompted him not to bring a jacket or coat– not that this bothered him; he didn’t get cold easily and acted as a walking heater to anyone who wanted to feel a little warm and fuzzy.
“I’m fine, sir. Thank you,” he responds with a tired smile.
Ever the gentleman that he is, a gloved hand flies up to cover his mouth as he yawns, a small puff of steam billowing out of his mouth. As much as he loves his job, there’s no place he’d rather be than at home with his girl, cuddling and joining the rest of the world in dreamland but alas here he is– duty calls. Calloused fingers threaded through strands the color of wheat, slightly causing his usually neat hair to appear slightly fluffy. He turns his head, summer sky blues trained in the vast darkness to look out for any threat that he could quell. He does this for about an hour or two– or four… or five. He lost count, distracted by the biting cold that slowly started to settle in his bones. Pink settled in Leon’s cheeks and the tips of his ears, adding color like watercolor to a blank canvas; goosebumps rose on his arms and on the back of his neck, jaw clenching to keep his teeth from chattering. He did his best to look as if the cold wasn’t causing him some discomfort, only rubbing his hands together for warmth every now and then. 2:45 AM, his black sports watch reads. “She’s probably asleep by now,” he fondly thinks as the corners of his lips curl skyward. “At least she’s warm and cozy,” he wistfully adds, the feeling of his body craving sleep growing even stronger with each passing moment.
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7:35 AM, he finally gets to head home after a long and cold night; he feels odd, a lot more susceptible to getting cold. The patrol car’s air conditioning felt several degrees colder, even if neither he nor Marvin changed the temperature and he felt a lot tired. After shifts like that, he always felt tired but this kind of exhaustion is different; it’s like his body weighed a lot more and he felt a headache slowly crawl up on him. He blamed these odd sensations on not drinking enough water, gaze falling on the thermos his girlfriend bought him as a reminder to hydrate often. He takes the bottle and drinks from it, dampening his dry throat only for his throat to feel a lot weirder and the water making him feel slightly nauseous. Marvin picks up on Leon’s sudden paleness, a frown placed on his chapped lips.
“Rookie, you alright? You don’t look like your usual self right now,” Marvin observes. Stopping at a red light he takes the opportunity to look at Leon, the rookie leaning against the corner near the door and shivering, rubbing his hands together to  try and stay warm.
“Yeah. Just… a little cold… and tired,” Leon responds, flashing him a tiny smile, an attempt to downplay what he thinks is a fever going on. Regret on not bringing a coat or jacket sets in, knowing his error will cause his girl to worry for him on top of all the workload she already has.
“You sure, kid? You don’t look too good right now,” Marvin adds.
“Promise, L.T. It’s just been a long night,” Leon reassures.
They finally arrive at the station, Leon’s head spinning slightly since he got carsick from the overwhelming sensations in the car ride back to the precinct to gather his things before clocking out only to groan when he realizes he has to use a car to get back home as well. Grabbing his backpack, he waves the officers bye and heads out. Even with the sun’s rays not fully beaming down on the slowly waking world, he squints his eyes and closes them for a bit, finding it too bright. With a tired sigh and a silent prayer that he doesn’t collapse from exhaustion on the way home, he walks over to the side of the road and waits for a cab to come and pick him up whilst also fighting the urge to hunch over at the sidewalk and hurl.
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He finally reaches home, resisting the urge to doze off on the floor within minutes of unlocking the front door. With a groan, he hobbles over to the medicine cabinet and takes some Advil before heading up the stairs. He forces himself to take a quick shower to cool himself off before grabbing some plaid pajama bottoms and a worn out gray sweater from the police academy. He draws the curtains, slides into bed and huddles under the sheets before turning his body to face your side of the bed, inching his face nearer to your pillow and inhaling the scent of your coconut shampoo. Just before he decides to take a nap, he takes his phone and sends you a message saying that he’s home. Even with the curtains already drawn he still finds the day too bright for his delicate eyes so he pulls the duvet over his head, closing his eyes and eventually falling asleep.
You get home to a dark and silent apartment, the lack of Leon anywhere throwing you off. Closing the door, you drop your bag off at the couch before heading upstairs to the bedroom. “Honey?,” You call out. At first you don’t get a response but you do hear a low groan coming from the bedroom. You finally reach the door and push it open to be met with the faint warm glow of your bedside lamp and your boyfriend huddled nicely in the sheets. He shoots you a small grin but you know something is up with him with the way he doesn’t get up and practically lunge at you for a hug.
“Sick,” he quietly says, readjusting his position again and pats your spot beside him. You walk over to the side of the bed and place the back of your hand against his forehead to feel for his temperature. You leave his side for a few minutes, only to come back with a thermometer. After double checking his temperature, you finally confirm that he has a fever. “How’d you get sick?,” you ask him as you pat his fluffy hair. “Stood out in the cold from 10 PM to 7 AM, no jacket,” he sheepishly says. His response earns a small frown from you, going off into a lecture about how he should’ve brought something to keep him warm because the temperatures are a lot more extreme these days to which he nodded and mumbled an “mhm”. You place a small kiss on his forehead, telling him that you’ll make dinner for the both of you before getting in bed to cuddle with him. He nods and smiles, probably the brightest smile he could muster for today before turning over and dozing off again.
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“Dinner’s ready,” you softly say in a sing-song voice as you bring in rice porridge on a tray, along with a bowl of cut-up fruit, and a glass of water. You set the tray down before helping Leon sit up, propping the pillows up on his back so he’d be cozy. You drag a chair beside him, waiting for him to take the bowl and start eating but he doesn’t.
“Why aren’t you eating yet?,” you ask.
“Can you feed me? Please?,” he asks as he shoots you the most kicked puppy dog eyes ever. He takes his hands together in prayer position, mumbling please and saying something along the lines of letting the patient have complete rest.
“God, you’re so cringe,” you scoff but you still decide to grab the bowl and give him spoons full of the porridge. Your boyfriend can be a bit silly sometimes but it’s why you love him. He takes a large bite, a pleased hum coming from him as he swallows down the food. “Taste good?,” you ask which he responds to with a smile and a thumbs-up. While Leon’s still got some porridge in his mouth, you take the time to contact his superior about Leon’s sick leave for two to three days.
“Umm, hi. I’m Y/N, Leon’s girlfriend and I called because he’s going to be on sick leave for two to three days, he came down with a fever so I hope you’d understand,” you say to the phone.
Leon simply looks at you with a slight look of surprise in his eyes; he already mentally noted that he’d call up Marvin later on after his dinner but turns out his thoughtful girlfriend had beat him to it. Looking up from his bowl, he keeps his gaze on you as you converse with Marvin, his heart thumping in his chest whenever you smile. The call went on for a few minutes before it finally ended, walking back to Leon’s side only to see his bowl finished.
“Your boss sounded a little surprised to hear that you’ve got a girlfriend,” you shyly say with a giddy grin. Leon laughs softly, running his fingers through his hair.
“Yeah, I don’t talk about you a lot at work– not- not because I don’t love you or a-anything, no– it’s, well, you know–,” he stammers which causes you to smile sweetly with your eyes squinting slightly and he swears he just fell in love all over again.
“I don’t have um– l-lots of y’know– friends at the station– there’s only Marvin,” he finally finishes. He realizes he sounds a lot like his pre-girlfriend self from when he first decided to ask you out on a date, back when eye contact with you and a simple graze of your fingers got his system undergoing a factory reset (not that things have changed: he’s still having factory resets from when you touch him).
“Well, I should stop by at work when you get back and I dunno– maybe get you lunch and kiss you in front of everyone,” you joke as you take his hand and place a kiss.
“God I need to get well soon,” he responds. He looks a lot less miserable now but still very much feverish.
“Hey I meant that as a joke–,” you say.
“Nuh-uh,” he says as he waves his pointer finger in front of you. “You need to keep your word or else I’ll be sad.”
“Fine, fine but only because I love you,”
“I love you more.”
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Soon, it’s time for bed and you get into the sheets with him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the nook of his neck.
“Baby you’re going to get sick too if you’re too close to me,” he softly says as he pats your hair.
“That’s not so bad if you get to take care of me,” you softly respond with a smile before placing a tender kiss on his neck. He shifts his position so now he’s the smaller spoon and you get to hold him like a stuffed animal. A pleased sigh could be heard under his breath as one hand strokes his back and gives him a soft pat while the other strokes his hair. “It’s not so bad being sick,” he happily thinks to himself– not that you don’t take care of him, of course you do, but the experience of being taken care of when he’s unable to care for himself brings a comfortable feeling of assurance that you’ll be right by him when things get rough; you’ll be there for him as a ray of sunlight on a cloudy day, an umbrella underneath the pouring rain, and a warm drink on a chilly night.
With your care and constant reminder to take pills and drink water, he managed to get better after two days and is clear to get back to work (bringing along a coat with him, of course; you’d flip if he got sick due to being out in the cold again). The brightness of his eyes have returned and he’s back to being the golden retriever, greeting everyone a ‘good morning’ before settling his things down at his desk and working on papers that piled up while he was gone. Stretching his fingers and grabbing a pen from a cup in his desk he takes a sheet and starts signing and going through reports whilst sipping his coffee, very much in a good mood. Marvin decided to let him work on reports first and not start patrolling around since he just got back from a fever and deemed it best that he shouldn’t move around just yet. After working for several hours straight he finally finishes his workload, just needing to file these reports away– the only task left before Marvin hands him a new set. Stretching his lower back and rolling his shoulders, he grabs his coat and wallet to head out and grab lunch.
“Officer Kennedy please report to the front desk,” the intercom blares. With a slightly frustrated sigh, he mentally prepares himself that he might have to skip out on lunch as he heads to where he’s needed.
“Good noon, ma’am– Baby!” he happily exclaims. His entire face brightens up and he beams brightly, running over to you and pulling you in for a tight hug as he rocks you from side to side. After a bone-crushing hug, he pulls away but he keeps his hands on your waist.
“It’s so good to see you. What are you doing here?,” he asks. His blue eyes were like waters, his gaze pulling you under and deeper into the spell he cast on you.
“Lunch. Kept my promise from days ago just like you wanted.”
“So… I’ll finally get that kiss in front of others?”
“Maybe. If you want–”
“I do want it so… come here.” Leon says with a cocky smirk as he pulls you in for a tender kiss.
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NOTE - If this is a little bad then I'm really sorry because this fic has been marinating in my docs for 2 weeks now and I kinda lost the idea mid-write so... yeah (I also finished this fic during math class because the question I got for an activity is so damn DIFFICULT-- KILLING MYSELF I HATE MATH I HATE THIS SHIT SO BAD FUCK MATH). Anyways, I'll try to write for RE4R!Leon soon-- I just love RE2R!Leon a lil tew much hihi ;) The title is taken from a lyric in a song called "Puppy Princess". I'll be busy in the next coming weeks so I won't be posting a lot. I'm going to try and make my fics look a lot more cute soon so ermm yeah that's it!! I hope you really liked it :) (also I ordered Leon photocards saur... the horrors are endless but I stay silly)
The dividers (lace and ribbon respectively) are from @plutism and @baefleurs , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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fedyenkas · 3 months
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౨ৎ 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 ┊ just this once, and just tonight. it’s the least he can do for you.
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WARNINGS: nsfw, angst, fem reader. takes place 1/2 years after tybw. unrequited feelings, mentions of ichihime. fingering, first time (both ichigo & reader), unprotected p in v sex, alcohol usage (but no dub-con). wc: 8k. AUTHOR’S NOTE: orihime my girl forgive me. . . i wanted to take a little dip into ichigo ever since starting the series and there is nothing i love more than some good angsty smut :> thank you tori for betaing and brainstorming!! @saenora enjoy ♡
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One step at a time, Ichigo makes his way up the stairs to your bedroom. He thinks so, at least. It's not like he knows the layout of your house, but the simple direction of "upstairs" given between a yawn and your tipsy humming has to suffice.
Your house is quiet and spacious, dead silent in the night except for the ticking clock hung up on the kitchen wall. Though he's taken notice of the quirky accessories you've put around the living room (he had a chance to when grabbing you water, knowing you'll thank him for it tomorrow morning) and the colorful posters hanging on the walls up the corridor to your room, it barely makes up for the unvacated space. 
A house that’s not yet a home, Ichigo feels, though he wouldn’t dare say it out loud. He's not in the place to do so anyway. 
Perhaps it’s not even an issue - he doesn’t know you that well, after all, only seeing you at school or when dropping by Orihime’s house. Your parents work away from the country most of the time, or so he's heard, so you spend most of the time alone- focusing on school work or the part-time job you picked up at the local flower shop.
You've gotten used to it, Orihime said, yet Ichigo thinks there must be a reason you're staying at her house every other day. Some find peace in solace and quiet, but does it apply to someone like you?
Nudging the door open, he's met with the faint scent of jasmine, a neatly made bed, and various plants sitting atop your drawers and desk. It's very much you. As far as he knows you, that is. It's cozy and warm and you seem to pick up on your surroundings, given the way you relax further into his back and lift your head just slightly.
Ichigo had hoped the crisp night air would be enough to sober you up on the way home, but you're still fairly putty in his grasp when he helps you get off his back and then settled onto your bed. Something akin to a purr rumbles in your throat as he handles you, almost carefully - your senses are sedate but the way he touches you rises goosebumps across your flesh. It's new but welcome nonetheless.
"There you go," Ichigo says, keeping his voice low. He's hoping you'll be fast asleep by the time he goes out the front door. You surely look like it- lashes languidly fluttering atop your cheekbones, the rise and fall of your chest gentle and slow.
It's weird.
He proposed to take you home to ensure your safety, seeing how your lightweight self handled the alcohol consumed back at the izakaya. Orihime was probably the only one looking more worried than amused at your drunken antics (like the angel she is) and asked him so sweetly to bring you home - how could he deny her?
It's common courtesy. You're his friend, too, so it's only natural he took it upon himself to tuck you into bed, hand you electrolytes, and lock your front door with the spare key.
You're Orihime's best friend. And yet, your skin feels feverish but so, so soft against his palm where it fits under your knees as he lowers you onto the mattress.
It's a conscious thought, something more than a fleeting observation. The one he makes of the sliver of pale pink cotton between your thighs doesn’t go unnoticed, either. If anything, his ears suddenly feel like red hot coal and eyes move away so fast he could’ve gotten whiplash.
Clearing his throat, Ichigo fixes your skirt for you, however forward that is. It's the right thing to do - God knows he’d rather have anyone (even a guy) do the same for Karin or Yuzu if they were ever in such a position. It shouldn’t be such a big deal in his head, and he swears he’s not making up excuses, but surely you would've thanked him anyway. (If it wasn't for the cotton in your mouth, of course.)
Most importantly, it makes the blush on his cheeks a little more bearable.
You squirm a little, shifting into a comfortable position that steals a content sigh from your mouth. It's only now that Ichigo notices your eyes have been following him for all this time, glossed over with intoxication. Thick like molasses, your scrutiny sticks to him. Ichigo’s been to hell and back but it’s been a while since anyone peeled back all his layers like you're doing now. You're no demon or evil entity. Your spiritual pressure feels more like a pleasant summer breeze than anything else, but the gentle smile you wear sends a chill down his spine.
He wonders what you're thinking, not expecting such an expression in the first place. You were all giggles and exclaims back at the izakaya and couldn't stay quiet on the way back either, yet now you're so mellow and soft. It's unlike you and what he's used to. What's even stranger is how it renders him still in his seat on the edge of your bed.
"Thanks, Ichigo," You say, breathily. The usage of his first name surprises him a little, but he does not mind, "for, y'know..."
Your words aren't as jumbled as he would've predicted but your voice does trail off as if taken away by the liquor. Ichigo smiles at you, but the bizarre feeling doesn’t go away. Is it something about the proximity? Or the way your hand lays so freely next to his, a nudge away? 
He scratches at his nape and breaks the strange eye contact. Your eyes burn into the side of his face still, he couldn’t miss it if he tried. “Ah, it’s nothing. I’m glad you’re safe.”
You watch his jaw as he speaks, the eyes wandering from the posters on your wall to the photo frames on your desk. ichigo’s observant, but this time, you feel like he’s just curious, perhaps a little sheepish. “Inoue wouldn’t let me live if I didn’t bring you home,” He adds.
It’s partially true but he doesn’t voice the rest out loud. He hasn’t been around in Soul Society for a hot minute now and it’s something to be glad about, but it does make him wonder if it’s his chivalry, manners, or unsatisfied instinct to protect that brought him here, into your room, pinewood and pale pink. 
You snort a little under your breath at the thought of your redhead best friend, fanning you with whatever she could’ve grabbed to possibly sober you up. She’s a sweetheart, cares more than she should about things that don’t need it, but it is a part of her charm. 
Is it why Ichigo’s smiling like this? 
The truth is laid out right in front of you, there is no denying it. A part of you is glad to witness the blossoming of something that would make your favorite person the happiest alive. 
In the unvacated space lives greed. 
Jealousy and desire are primal to an extent that you wouldn’t think could ever apply to you, but here you are. It’s funny Ichigo doesn’t look aware of his input to your silly realizations in the slightest.. But, down to the core of it all, you’re just a girl as well. Young, with a heart aching to be loved. You know it is considered wrong but what they don’t know can’t hurt them. 
You’ve never said a word despite how often you run your tongue. Your choice was always conscious, firm, and made with the best intentions in mind. Tonight, as you lay in your frilly sheets and scent the remnants of Ichigo’s cologne on you with his warmth still so close, your throat tightens with the words that grow heavier, unbearable to swallow down.
“Ichigo,” You say his name again, this time more gentle. The boy glances over and you know now that you did catch him space out, with her in mind. It’s a different look on him, fond with the slightest curl to his lips, handsome on his features when he turns to you.
You enjoy the attention and it’s a shameful realisation. Brown eyes envelop yours with a warmth that you know isn’t directed at you, “Yeah? What is it?”
Adrenaline does it for you - props you up until you face him, stretches your fingers out to wrap around his wrist. It’s unrushed but only because of the alcohol. It puzzles Ichigo all the same, a quirk in his brows and a twitch in his fingers. 
“Can you… stay,” Oh, it’s so, so heavy on your tongue. Doesn’t roll off the way you’d want it to even with the added courage - it’s more of a shaky breath than anything else “Please,”
The silence soughs in your ears, a white noise to blur out Ichigo’s perplexed inhale. His gaze wavers and moves to where your hand guides his, to the soft flesh of your thigh, bare and still so warm as he noticed earlier. Now it almost burns him. 
He says your name in a question and his voice cracks in the sheer realization of your wish, unspoken but shown so forwardly and in a way he wouldn’t have thought of you. He moves to retract his hand, shaking his head, “I– uh, I can’t. Really, trust me, it’s not…”
When Ichigo goes to look at you again, your chest aches with shame. He’s confused but looks mostly worried, if not a little pitiful of your silly, needy wish. Your fingers feel too clammy to keep holding onto his hand, instead grabbing onto the thick denim of your skirt. 
“O-Oh,” You stammer and it feels like a cold bucket over your head, “R-right. Sorry, uhm,”
You worry the plump of your bottom lip between your teeth and stare anywhere else. Your vision is a little distorted, just a tad blurry, the thudding of your heart loud as ever. 
Warmth envelopes your fist and your gaze bounces back. Ichigo’s frowning a little, but again, it’s mostly worry. You don’t particularly dislike it, “Hey, hey. It’s fine. You’re drunk. It’s alright.”
Right, you’re drunk. But not enough to blackout, not enough to lose control over your actions and better judgment. So when the feeling of his hand on yours grows to be too much, your breath catches in your throat and eyes soften. It’s a sliver in time but Ichigo catches onto it.
This time, he’s not as taken aback when your fingers wrap around his. He’s seen it coming by the gleam in your eyes, and though he’s not that much of an empath, he knows what longing looks like. He’s not dumb. Your rings feel cool on his skin as you guide his hand up, from the hem of your top to the swell of your breast- it’s a strange feeling. Entirely new in the way he hasn’t done it before (intentionally, at least), throwing him off because it’s you. You fit in his hand perfectly. Ichigo swears he feels every goosebump against his palm, even through the thin cotton. 
It registers slower than he would’ve liked it to. With a sharp breath, his eyes find yours, asking for something though he knows you wouldn’t answer. You look tongue-tied, shivering against his touch and under his nearly begging gaze.
“Please,” It’s a whisper but bleeds into a whimper. Your fingers around his wrist grow tighter, and his palm presses against your flesh until he feels your thighs part. 
It’s all you say. He shouldn’t have asked for more, but it’s only natural he did - you put him in this place, confused and torn. Ichigo does not want to blame you for it but he wishes he did- it’s easier getting upset than dealing with this pull in his chest. You give him your widest eyes, reminiscent of the look she gives him– it’s just the same. The discernment is unmistakable. It makes him think of all the times he felt eyes on his back, the side of his face as he spoke. Could it be there were always two pairs of them? Could he really not notice it for all this time?
Devotion is a strange thing. It’s unspoken between him and Orihime but it doesn’t make the bond any weaker. It was an unknown feeling - noticing things about her that made his heart race, paying a bit more attention to his appearance whenever they’d see each other. Ichigo didn’t want to spend too much time pondering on it, but deep down, between the crevices of his ribs, he feels it. His heart is full. Stutters whenever she’s around, aches when she is not. It’s a pity it has to come down to this to make him admit it to himself. Neither of you deserve this. The policy of truth is simple: you speak it, you suffer the consequences. As long as Inoue doesn’t hear about this, the pain doesn’t take her under with you. 
What she doesn’t know doesn’t hurt her, but the oblivion has  no power to erase what already happened. It will eat away at you both, rightly or not. 
It’s a sliver in time. A second, two at most - no more than a shaky breath. It’s not nearly enough time to make such a decision but Ichigo operates on instinct more often than not. Right now, you’re here, so pretty and divine in front of him. Your lip shines with saliva, eyes gleam with need, and your legs part, making just enough space for him to fit in between. 
In this moment of time, you’re the prettiest sight he could possibly witness. 
The thought feeds his guilt but makes his heart thump all the same. There’s only so much you can do to fight off desire when it creeps up on you, cunning and ruthless.You couldn’t ignore your own and he’s surrendering, too. (What a strange feeling that is, indeed. After countless fights and not even one desertion, the only time he fully, consciously drops his guard down finally catches up to him. Perhaps it’s the rule of war, one you cannot run from even when once it died down.)
Ichigo’s merciful when he needs to be. When lenient, his hands usually drip with blood, not even one more drop to be shed. Tonight, they’re gentle, slipping under flimsy fabric with a promise of more- an augury of pleasure. 
Your breath dies in your chest, caught in your lungs when Ichigo’s hand squeezes the flesh of your breast. Your nipple stands erect against his rough palm, skin erupting in goosebumps as he groans. It’s a sound you wouldn’t dare wish to hear, but you’re thanking gods when you do. 
Ichigo moves closer, meddles with your space like it’s a magnetic pull. His thumb teases the hardened nub, experimentally pinches it between his fingers. It’s languid but only because he’s unsure. He doesn’t want to give in to greed. Curiosity is a much better teacher. 
“You’re so warm,” He whispers and it feels cathartic to some extent. A weight dissipates from his shoulders now that he admitted it to himself: he wants you. Longs for you, feels it down to his core. “Does it feel good?” 
A hurried nod is enough, for now at least. Your hand slips from Ichigo’s to grab at his bicep instead as his free palm fits under the weight of your chest, then slides down the smooth, soft canvas of your stomach. It ripples under his touch, almost a reflex. Ichigo swears under his breath, heat rushing to his cheeks and below his belt. You’re so pliable, so full of trust. 
He pushes your top up just below your collarbones, though not without a fleeting glance at your face to ensure it’s fine. Cool air nips all over the exposed skin and it’s a small mercy when the warmth of Ichigo’s mouth presses along the shivering flesh. You gasp and writhe, as much as you can in his gentle grip, anyway. His tongue feels heavy where it laps across the skin, suckling where his teeth graze next. When his mouth wraps around one of your nipples, it sends sparks down all the way down to your toes. It’s as pleasurable as it is new. 
“Ichigo,” You moan and it makes his desire run rampant. 
He sucks harder, the other hand wrapping around the side of your ribcage, as if to settle you but bring you closer at the same time. His breathing grows heavier, ragged when he lets go of one nipple to move to the other, repeating his measure of sucking and licking and toying with you until your heart ripples under the flesh. It’s his highest reward when you start to squirm and unceremoniously tangle your fingers in his hair. 
You wish you could feel his lips on yours but it feels like a boundary that cannot be crossed. Not yet, anyway, and you don’t look a gifted horse in its mouth, so the sensation of Ichigo’s shuffling down your mattress and pressing his open-mouthed kisses lower down your torso is where you pin point your focus. It’s the only thing overriding your senses either way - you can’t escape it, the slick and hot feeling of his tongue and the plump of his lips. He bites somewhere around your navel and you keen, toes curling in on themselves. 
Ichigo’s uncertain whether it should bring him this much ecstasy but he’s sure he’s just as euphoric as you are, receiving his caress. His thumbs dig into your sides and along your hipbones as he looks up, hair in your fist and eyes blown with lust. 
A beat passes before he crawls up your body again, a little clumsily but neither of you care. His breath hits your jaw before his head dips to the crook of your neck, mouthing at the thrum of your pulse. Your bodies act as one, strung up with instinct and curiosity strong enough to kill the cat. Whether you get caught in crossfire, neither of you cares. 
Just as your hands move to push up Ichigo’s shirt, he pulls away to take yours off completely, the gathered material getting in his way. You barely wind your arms around his neck before he presses back against you, breathing heavily between feverish kisses to your collarbone and shoulder. 
It’s a lot - the feeling of your chest pressed against his, your hands roaming under his shirt, following the ridges of his hard abdomen. You’re squirming underneath him, inhales quick, exhales resembling more of a whimper than anything else. It’s a lot to take in but Ichigo takes his time nonetheless. He maps out the spots that make your nails dig under his skin, makes sure to give them extra attention before moving to search for more. It’s exhilarating, feeds his ego when you arch into him so beautifully. It’s hard focusing on everything at once but there is no way he misses any of it.
Between bites and wet kisses, Ichigo’s shirt comes off and joins your crumpled top on the floor. He’s not self-conscious in the least, but your gaze sticks to him and it’s making his heart skip a beat. Swallowing thickly, he breathes out a laugh, almost sheepishly, and you return it in a smile. It clears the air, makes it easier to breathe again - lets him see the gleam in your eyes, allows you to take in the reddened sheen of his cheeks. It’s everything you could’ve dreamed of and more, the embodiment of what heaven looks like, you think. 
“Can I make you feel good?” Ichigo speaks, low and ragged. You think it’s endearing that he asks, even when seeing you so restless. His hands are itching to touch, explore places that make you tense up and call for him. The need to possess is strange, but he doesn’t hate it. it must be a part of the intimacy- something about knowing it’s him that grants you this pleasure. It has to be something about the sense of duty, knowing it’s the least he can give you.
“Yes,” It’s more of a breath than proper speech but it’s good enough. “Yes, please, Ichigo, right there…” 
Your hand moves to his, guiding it to the soft cotton of your panties. It’s hot, damp with what the boy can only recognize as arousal, silky when the pad of his finger presses on the soft, plump flesh. The fabric is thin, darkened where it clings to your folds. It’s enough to make his head spin. Your thighs jolt and breath sharpens as his finger dips between your folds and Ichigo feels all blood rush to his cock.
“Fuck,” He grunts, aching against the denim of his jeans. It’s almost embarrassing in a way “You ask me so nicely,” 
You didn’t expect the remark but take it as a praise. Ichigo doesn’t particularly enjoy others prodding at him but will do it himself if given a good chance and you wonder if he enjoys the way you look away, overwhelmed. Not even the alcohol buzzing in your system makes this any more bearable. Instead you focus on him undoing your skirt, first the button and then the zipper, to eventually pull it down your legs. He’s gentle while doing so, fingers lingering on your ankle as his gaze searches for yours. 
“Have you…” Ichigo trails off and it suddenly dawns  on him that it should’ve been asked before he even first got his hands on you. Your boldness could’ve mistaken him, after all, and judging by the way your eyes widen, it did.
You shake your head, gripping the sheets and chewing on your bottom lip. You seem as sheepish as the boy between your legs, suddenly a little embarrassed, hoping it doesn’t drive him away. “N-No, not yet…”
Ichigo knows it shouldn’t, but it goes straight to his cock. The realization that he’s the first to touch you like this, to have his hands roaming your body and spoil you with affection. The mechanism behind the thought is unattainable to him yet, but frankly, he has no time to dwell on it. It flatters him, fills him with something indescribable, knowing you trust him enough to deem him the right one. 
He sucks in a breath, opening his mouth to speak. Are you sure about this? is what he wishes to ask. Please is what your eyes are telling him - dark with lust and sewing right through him. You look like you could cry any second if made to wait any longer. He’s no sadist, really.
Your panties come off next, index finger hooking under the waistband and easing them down the curve of your legs. Ichigo doesn’t mean to stare but it’s his first time around as well, after all, and he’s a little overwhelmed. You’re pretty from head to toe, he realizes, face burning as he exhales shakily, fingers tracing the same path as before, but this time with no fabric in between. 
Wetness collects at his fingertips, coats them from the tip to his first knuckle and makes it so much easier when he presses three fingers against your clit and starts to rub. You’re unaware of his lack of experience and frankly, the way he handles you isn’t giving it away either. Your legs seize up, breath stuck in your throat, and Ichigo figures he’s doing a good job. You’re quick to tell him, too.
“Fuck,” Your voice is small, the small of your back arching off the bed. Ichigo watches every reaction like a hawk, from the parting of your lips to the way your abdomen tightens and hips squirm in place. 
“Right here?” He asks in a breath, almost holding it. It’s unconscious, but his focus is all on you. His hand slides lower and palm presses to the throbbing nub instead, slick finger prodding at your entrance as you nod.
Ichigo’s taking his time with you but it only makes the tension grow tighter, like a string bound to snap any moment. You’re already out of breath before he gets to pleasure you properly. His equally restless, needy expression makes it a little more bearable. One by one, his fingers push inside of you with much more ease than he’d expected. It’s tight and warm, squeezing him down to the last knuckle when the pads of his fingers caress the front of your insides. Each and every movement eases more honeyed sounds from your mouth, makes your grip on him tighten. Your nails dig in his bicep, bare and littered with small scars you wouldn’t ever ask about, voice betraying any inhibitions. You’re moaning in his ear when he goes to press himself against you, mouthing along the curve of your jaw and heavily breathing against your pulse point. 
Every word is washed away with desire, long gone from your head. The feeling of being worked open on Ichigo’s fingers is too much. He’s as gentle as he can be but loses himself in the way your pussy squeezes around him and hips hump against his hand, urging for more. You feel his scent, overriding anything else, hear his ragged breath by your ear. The heat licking at the base of your spine seems familiar but entirely strange at the same time, thinly veiled by intoxication. 
“Ichigo–” You sound almost panicked if he hadn’t known any better. You’re not in pain, not with the way you cling onto him “Think m’gonna..” 
Ichigo feels his stomach flip and suddenly the sound of your slick is the only thing in his ears. The squelch, every little mewl you let out when his fingers press into the spongy spot. It’s obnoxiously loud, though in reality it most likely is not. To him, it’s all that matters. You’re feeling good, you’re barely speaking. 
You almost jolt when he picks up the pace, eyes boring into your face, the euphoric flutter of your lashes. “Do it for me,” He mutters, voice lodged low in his throat, equally as coaxing as it is urgent. “S’alright”
The sensation hits all at once and it’s overwhelming compared to anything you’re used to. It’s different when Ichigo’s easing you through it, groaning when you grab at his wrist and choke out sounds of unadulterated pleasure. Raw and beautiful as you fall apart, Ichigo watches you. A pull in his chest urges him to kiss you, swallow every sound and claim it. Everything else makes him want to watch, shamelessly and greedily, and so he does. 
You slump in his hold around the moment his fingers slow down nearly to a stop. It’s good timing considering you push at his wrist weakly, thighs shaking when you go to close them involuntarily. Ichigo eases his fingers out and it’s only now that the white noise dies down that you hear his breathing, equally as labored as your own.
Your eyes search for Ichigo’s, albeit a bit unsure. Almost shyly. The clarity doesn’t set in just yet as you reach your hand towards him, fingers dipping past the waistband of his jeans. 
He’s slightly flustered but mostly still overwhelmed by making you cum. He wouldn’t have ever guessed it feels this good to give- never would’ve thought you are so beautiful when he brings you over the edge. It makes his heart ache when the thought at the back of his head reappears, poisoned with guilt, but it’s not enough to drive his mind away from the desire coiling in his gut.
“Come here” Ichigo states, a little firmly as he grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to his level more comfortably. “Want to feel you, properly this time,”
His breath is ragged when he speaks, warmth fanning across your face. It’s a lot to take in, but the press of a hard bulge to your bare mound speaks for itself. Your throat feels a little dry when you swallow, clumsily reaching your hands down to work at Ichigo’s belt, then the buttoning of his jeans. He helps you out, fingers brushing against yours until finally, he gets the remaining pieces of clothing off.
Your head is spinning with how quickly it happens. One second you’re coming on his fingers, now you’re trying not to stare at his cock, standing upright, heavy and flushed bright pink with arousal. The sheer size is intimidating but you couldn’t have expected anything less from Ichigo. (Neither did you imagine him any smaller than this.)
He notices your shy little glances but doesn’t comment on it, because soon enough you’re wrapping your small hand around his girth. The touch is electrifying, would’ve made his knees buckle if he wasn’t sat. Ichigo hisses under his breath, the tips of his ears burning. You’re moving languidly, thumb tracing along the throbbing vein running up the shaft and it’s making his stomach tighten.
“Let me,” You suddenly speak meekly. Ichigo blinks down at you, mind foggy with want but he’s quick to shake his head and wrap his hand around yours.
Your expression morphs into something more sheepish, borderline confused. Your fingers almost retract from around his aching cock but he stops you, tightening his hand on yours to keep it in place.
“No, it’s just…” Ichigo’s a little frustrated but only with himself. He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head when you look at him, puzzled and a little hesitant “I’m not gonna last if you do, and I want you,” 
It’s purely symbolic by this point, now that he’s taken the leap and cannot turn back, but voicing his desire out loud makes the loop around his heart tighten. It shouldn’t feel this natural to say it, roll off his tongue so easily, but it does- and Ichigo figures he might as well embrace it. His throat feels tighter with every word but the smile he gives you, a little coy and all the more comforting, makes you relax instantly. 
Your cheeks heat up with the flattery before the meaning behind his words really settles in. It’s one thing to have the boy of your dreams touching you, but another to have him admit his desire. It makes the butterflies caged between your ribs run wild. 
“Then just–” You trail off and hold back a moan, feeling Ichigo’s hand reassume the stroking you’ve been gracing him with a moment before. “C-come here,” You finish between one sigh and another. His palm feels warm on top of yours, tightening whenever you reach the sensitive tip of his cock, his breath growing unsteady. 
It’s tipping along the edge of teasing but Ichigo can’t bring himself to stop, even with a promise of greater pleasures coming. You’re looking up at him like you’re scared to miss any of his reactions- the knot in his brows, parting of his lips. It’s hard to look away when the very thing you’ve longed for is right in front of you, tangible and real. 
Despite his previous words, it’s a struggle to stop you from indulging him. You don’t want to take more than he gives, though, and so you pull away, instead nudging the boy to lay down on his back beside you. He takes the hint but not without a look of surprise and lays back. You enjoy the look behind the amber of his eyes when you climb on top of him, straddling his hips, your heat hovering just above the weeping head of his cock. It’s enough to make Ichigo hiss out a breath, his hands moving to grip the fat of your hips, fingers digging into the flesh. 
“Take your time,” He says, and the tremble at the edges of his words give away his impatience or perhaps excitement. You wonder if it’s his first time as well but the thought is quickly pushed to the back of your mind, too hopeful and bold. As if.
You smile down at him, a little dopily, “M’kay.”
You ignore the shaking of your thighs as you rest your hands on Ichigo’s chest, broad and firm with muscle. The slow rubbing of your pussy along the throb of his length is agonizing, but neither of you complain. You watch breathlessly as Ichigo leans his head back, throat bobbing with a grunt. It’s hot and slippery wet, the way your folds drag against his cock, clit catching on the angry pink tip. You’re moaning so pretty already, he wonders how the hell he’s going to hold back when he’s actually inside you.
He doesn’t regret his statement to take things at your own pace but you are driving him a little crazy. The position you’ve both found yourselves in is hard enough to brace already, and now you’re on top of him, too, about to take a part of him to keep with you forever. The thought makes his head spin. Ichigo wishes he still believed he’s only doing it to show you mercy, but his own enjoyment is too palpable. He tries not to think about it when you lift your hips and wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance, leaking wetness on his tip. 
You drop your hips, inch by inch, and it erases any other thought from his head. It’s so ridiculously warm and tight, feels like you’re suffocating him in the best possible way. There’s not a condom in sight and Ichigo’s not too proud to realize he couldn’t care less. What matters is the feeling of you around him, pulsing with arousal when he bottoms out. Your fingers twitch on his chest and clit presses against the neat trim of his pubes - he feels it all, it’s almost agonizing.
Ichigo has to remind himself to soothe you into it. He rubs his hands up your waist and swallows thickly, watching your chest shudder with a breath and your mouth fall agape. 
“You good?” He asks, but the slow sway your hips pick up is an answer in its own right. You suck in a breath and nod, looking down at him. God, don’t do this. Ichigo twitches inside of you and you feel it all. 
“Mmhm,” Your voice sounds strained. You don’t trust yourself enough to speak proper words, getting used to the feeling of being stuffed full. It’s unlike anything else, the feeling of every ridge and vein of his cock, the tight fit that makes your tummy feel funny. Glancing down to see the boy of your dreams staring right back at you, heavy-lidded and restless, turns your brain into mush. 
There’s not much discomfort. Not to make you stop, at least. You’re greedy and you can only hope Ichigo doesn’t mind, but the groan he lets out when you begin to rock your hips back and forth proves it right. The slide of his cock against the spots that turn your vision spotty around the edges feels perfect. 
It’s quieter than you would’ve suspected. Heavy breathing bounces off the walls and your bed creaks with every firmer movement, your cunt squelches whenever Ichigo’s cock fits back inside of you, stuffing you to the brim. You couldn’t handle any more of it anyway- it’s enough as it is. You’re a little light-headed with the tingly sensation that runs all the way down to your toes, making them curl. You wonder if it feels as good for Ichigo as it does for you, but he’s awfully quiet- trying to swallow down any grunts or sounds of pleasure. 
He’s a little overwhelmed, truly. You feel like heaven, throbbing and swallowing all of his cock. He hopes you won’t be in pain tomorrow- he’s given you enough prep (he hopes so, at least), but you’re starting to ride him harder with every few movements. You drop your hips on him experimentally, rut against him in little circles, then still and whimper when his tip kisses the spongy area all the way up your pussy. Ichigo’s speechless, truly. It almost feels too good to be true- too good for him, like he’s undeserving. He can’t let go of the thought of it being unfair. The way you make it feel so intimate, passionate until it’s hard to take only deems it an ever harder task. 
Ichigo watches with his heart lodged in his throat as you lean back, gracing him with a full view of your breasts, trembling with every quick breath, and the slow path your hand follows to toy with one of them. Your face contorts in bliss, lashes fluttering before your eyes roll back. It’s raw and almost primal, in a way, despite how sweet you sound with every choked out Ichigo, Ichigo, you’re so good. Too good for this world, and frankly, too good for him - that’s what you are. He can’t take it.
You gasp when Ichigo moves to sit up, the new found angle making your stomach stir. You can almost feel him in your throat, swelling inside of you “I-Ichigo,” You swallow back a whimper, taken aback and delirious with pleasure. 
He wraps his arm around you, fitting himself against you like it’s how you’re meant to be. The thought makes your arousal cling to his base, a sheen of slick forming a ring where his girth stuffs you full. He’s so close it feels almost unfair. His nose nudges against yours and breath meddles together. It’s your own heartbeat that’s thrumming in your ears, but if you focus hard enough, you can pretend it’s Ichigo’s.
“Shh- q-quiet,” He utters, almost hurriedly. His fingers splay out on the small of your back, holding you close, but the other hand soon joins on your other side, gripping your rear so tight you could almost squeal. 
It’s an added leverage and control that lets Ichigo grind into you with little effort. Restraints cut off when he feels your chest press against his, skin clammy against his palm as he presses you further into him, until there’s nowhere left for you to run. It’s the least he owes you. It’s what you deserve, so wide-eyed and open for him, so soft and unconditionally dutiful. Indulging you is what he must do, even when it feels like making love though it really isn’t. It’s only fair in such unjust circumstances. 
Ichigo kisses you like he means it and like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s not his first but it’s the first that feels like this- makes his gut churn and his hands grab you tighter. You moan in his mouth, wrap your arms around his neck, touch his jaw. You’re all over him in the best sense, in a way he’d never think he’d experience, but it’s a slice of heaven on earth.
Your tongue licks at his teeth and he tastes your desire, tender and unadulterated. It’s slow and takes your breath away, hell, steals every conscious thought with it, too. You could melt in an instant if giving it any thought at all.
You take what Ichigo gives and don’t ask. You know better than this.
Ichigo’s breath catches in his throat when your legs wrap around him, almost clumsily, driving him deeper. The drag of his cock against your walls starts to become unbearable, like gasoline to the fire licking at his spine. He’s close and struggles not to notice it’s the close proximity and the taste of your tongue that pushes him to the edge. 
Your mind is foggy when Ichigo pushes himself home a few more times, almost teasingly slow. He’s pulling away from your kiss, lips swollen and wet with spit when he goes to glance between the two of you, where your cunt rubs against him so sweetly, takes him so well.  Being watched like this proves to be too much, your heart jolting and gut tightening, the coil appearing quickly. 
“H-uh, I- Ichigo, gonna cum,” He thinks it’s endearing how you tell him when he can feel your cunt speak for you- hear it, even, with how it squelches with his every thrust, even the most languid.  Still, he kisses you silent, once, then again and again. Each one feels more treacherous than the other. Each one makes you whine louder and louder, despite his intention.
“I know, I know,” It’s more of a rasp than anything else when he speaks, hoarsely and hushed “Go ahead, m’ right here,” 
It’s instinctual to ease you into it like this, when you’re clinging to him so tight. It fills him with a weird sense of possessiveness, even if it only lasts so long as he’s inside of you. Ichigo finds himself struggling holding his own climax back when you’re squirming in his lap like this, your tight heat squeezing him until it’s hard to move at all. He’s shocked at how slick you are, wetter with every thrust but he’s glad, for it makes all the difference (and stroke his ego more than he’d like to admit).
Little throaty grunts start to slip out his mouth as your body grows stiff. You’re quieter, almost holding your breath, and the way you’re looking at him is almost painful. Ichigo would think you are in pain if he didn’t know any better. His forehead fits against yours, mostly to ground him but mainly because he can’t stand this look from you- like this is all you’ve ever wanted. (He knows it is, but he likes to pretend otherwise.) You wheeze and moan all on the same breath, finally cumming on Ichigo’s cock until you’re trembling. He fucks you through it despite how achingly hard he is, trying to hold off his own orgasm. He’s panting against your lips, dragging your hips against his own and adding another layer of white hot pleasure that renders you limp in his grasp moments after.
You’re stunned by the intensity of euphoria that washed over you all at once, still dizzy when Ichigo swiftly pushes you on your back. He stays nestled inside of you, tip of his cock pressing against your cervix, kissing it harder with each of his thrusts, deep and deliberate. He’s not going fast nor is he rough- it’s passionate in it’s rawest form. Ichigo leans forward and shamefully indulges in the warm embrace of your arms, wrapping around his back, your hand tangled in his hair. 
His kisses feel equally as tender as his strokes, growing firmer with every roll of his hips. You’re drinking every word from his mouth and cup his face, keeping him grounded when he’s losing composure. Gonna cum, fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming. You watch Ichigo’s face twist in pleasure, his silhouette caging you in. You’re unsure whether your intoxication comes from liquor or the sheer euphoria seeing him look so beautiful on top of you, but you feel delirious either way. 
Ichigo groans as the knot unravels, blinding and forceful enough to turn his mind blank. He shudders through it, having just a crumble of sanity left to pull out at the very last moment as to not fuck things up more than he already did. He fists himself to completion, a few rough tugs ending in warmth spilling all across your lower tummy, some even landing on the swell of your breasts. (If it wasn’t for the spots littering his vision, he’d notice the small marks he had left, something to leave you with aside from the aching void.) With a few last grunts, each one breathier than the last, he finally relaxes, dropping his head in the crook of your neck.
The air should be thick and heavy, palpable with the realization of what had just taken place. It should feel spoilt and eat away at you like acid. And yet, as the both of you come down from your highs, the afterglow tastes sweet - even if for a few seconds more.
It makes a part of Ichigo want to scream. The other makes him kiss the thrum of your pulse one last time, his forehead pressed to your jaw, almost in a sign of affection. Your fingers run through his hair, absentmindedly and leisurely. Your heart slows down and Ichigo listens, wondering if you feel any different that he does? Is your head full of conflict too, guilt clawing its way back in despite how good it felt to be so close to him? Are you having a hard time like he is?
By the time Ichigo pulls away, your eyes are fluttering close, breathing mellow and soft. It would’ve made him chuckle, but his heart feels a little too heavy, so he only smiles down at you, pushing himself up on arms that feel weirdly shaky. Fatigue is one thing, but emotion is another. 
He’s lucky enough to find a box of tissues on your nightstand, right next to your alarm clock. Angry red numbers read 2:41AM as he reaches for a couple and then begins to clean you up, wiping away any remnants of his spent. It’s weirdly intimate and this time, it brings a sour taste to his mouth. You’re watching him, tiptoeing over the edge of sleep, as he crumples up the tissues in his hand once it’s over with. 
It’s easier to not look at him at all than see his gaze scurrying away from you, absent and full of thought. You’re tired- exhausted, even, barely able to keep yourself awake. The alcohol catches up to you again and so does the weariness from endorphins wearing off and though it’s a bitter thought, you think it’s a small mercy. He’s never been good at hiding when things are troubling him. In a way, he wears his heart on his sleeve, much like you do. It just took him a little longer to notice what you wanted to tell him. A mistake had to be made to let him see inside your mind for what it truly is: full of longing and misplaced love.
Despite it all, you watch as he pulls on his boxers and let him dress you into your underwear and top from before. He handles you gently, carefully, as if you could break into pieces. You wouldn’t like the pity but thankfully, in your delirious state, you take it as affection. 
“Ichigo,” It makes his skin crawl. Unfair, unfair, unfair. How can you say it like this, so soft and hopeful? He glances back to look at you, takes in the sheen across your cheeks, the afterglow that adorns your features. You’re irresistible, but his restraints broke only because of leniency. “Will you stay?”
He smiles at you. In your eyes, half-lidded and shiny with sleep, it looks genuine. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”
You fall asleep peacefully despite everything, ignoring the drop in your chest. You don’t take Ichigo for a liar, but this one time, you will not mind nor hold it against him. Everything he’s ever done was for everyone’s best interest. If tomorrow you wake up in an empty bed with his scent fading away from your sheets, you’ll be grateful for whatever piece of him he’s left with you. 
Your house is quiet aside from the ticking clock downstairs as Ichigo dresses himself and checks for his phone and wallet in his jeans’ pocket. He walks downstairs and pays no mind to the quirky accessories you put along the living room as he passes by. Pulls on his shoes, shrugs on his jacket, then fishes out the spare key from the glass bowl by the front door. It’s exactly where Orihime told him. He’ll have to text her once he’s home, he thinks. 
Just like he’d hoped, you’re fast asleep by the time he’s out the door. And though his heart feels full like it has for a long while, it only now begins to grow heavy.
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