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coconutdays · 6 months

Text

going crazy

s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous

w.c. 4.8k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!

your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?

you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so.

although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too.

but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.

there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you.

your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night,

so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.

it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup.

you

hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/

suguru

sure princess. can i get a peek?

you

don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3

suguru

tease

any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time .

and you were right.

when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in.

you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.

he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily.

“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him.

his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”

“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.

his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”

“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice

“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”

“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it

suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”

“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly

“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”

it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.

the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.

“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”

“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck

the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it.

it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”

within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.

“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.

suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing.

you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey.

and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club.

you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him.

and other people think the same, he notes.

he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.

“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little

it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.

“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”

“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.

fuck, you're beautiful.

speaking of before,

he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.

it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her.

the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.

the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table.

he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.

“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.

“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.

“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”

“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you

when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”

“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting

and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.

he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.

he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.

and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming.

all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.

“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.

and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”

when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him.

“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips

the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”

all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out.

he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.

a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.

you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness

“so easy baby,” he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards

“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions

“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”

“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”

he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger.

“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in

your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.

suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”

the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.

he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”

he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.

“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now

and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”

“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.

he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”

and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.

you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.

“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine

“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action

suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”

“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you

“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly

“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”

his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.

he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”

as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.

you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.

“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.

the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming.

you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.

and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.

“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up

a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you

“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”

the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.

“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”

all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.

“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in

It didn’t get him to stop at all.

“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.

tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good.

you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you.

you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.

it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.

“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.

that, and he started to speak up filthily.

“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”

scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”

“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”

“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words.

“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”

the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.

“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.”

his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.

so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts.

“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations

suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier.

the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.

the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.

both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel.

his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”

his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”

suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."

#geto x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #geto smut

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eiightysixbaby · 7 months

Text

i love it loud

word count: 6.5k+

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you get invited to corroded coffin’s halloween party with your best friend chrissy. you don’t anticipate on having much fun, but that changes when you meet eddie…

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. alcohol consumption, a rogue billy tries to hit on reader, use of petnames, use of y/n (like maybe a few times), oral (f receiving), fingering (f), unprotected p in v - he pulls out tho!, brief description of reader’s costume but no mention of body type/etc.

You didn’t want to go to this party. Not really. Your best friend had insisted you come with her, because arriving alone would, in her words, be social suicide. Being invited to Corroded Coffin’s Halloween party was a big deal, she’d said, even though you know she was only invited because she’s been going out with the drummer. Of course he’s going to invite his girlfriend.

You hadn’t even had a plan for a costume, and with only a couple day’s notice you didn’t have the time to prepare something good. The stores were all picked over as far as Halloween costumes go, and so you went with the most basic, half-assed option you could’ve possibly selected.

You’re dressed as a cat.

It feels silly, it feels low-effort and stupid and basic, but here you are with your fluffy tail and soft felt ears, black high heels and whiskers painted on your face. A pink nose to top it all off. You did think you looked good, you had to admit, but it definitely wasn’t the costume you would’ve preferred. You awkwardly adjust your stockings as you step up to the front door of the large house, feeling horrendously out of place.

You glance at Chrissy beside you, her hippie costume bright and colorful - an extreme contrast to your all black attire.

“Okay, just texted Gareth that we’re here,” she says, slipping her phone into her bag. “Don’t look so thrilled,” she says sarcastically, pouting at you.

“Sorry I’m not exactly excited to be at a party where I know no one,” you say.

“You know me and Gareth,” she replies, looking at you like she’s confused.

“I barely know Gareth. And don’t act like the two of you won’t be running off to bang the second you get a chance,” you smile at her, knocking shoulders playfully.

“Listen… his friend Eddie, the lead singer, is super hot. Maybe you’ll get more than you bargained for tonight.”

“I don’t know, Chris. There’s going to be a million girls at this party, do I really want to be another notch on some rockstar’s belt?” you ponder.

She doesn’t get the chance to respond before the front door is swinging open in front of you. The figure on the other side is… Peter Criss. More like, Gareth dressed as Peter Criss. Fully outfitted in leather and silver studs, hair spray painted black with white and black cat makeup on his face. You laugh a little as you take him in, and he shoots you a teasing glare.

“Hey ladies,” he greets, pulling Chrissy in for a quick kiss. “Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“You know Chris always gets what she wants,” you reply with a laugh, and he laughs with you, agreeing.

He steps to the side, ushering you both into the large foyer of the house. It’s decked out in Halloween decor; bats on the walls, fake cobwebs, hairy toy spiders with light-up red eyes. There’s orange and purple string lights hung about, and you’re honestly impressed with the detail. The house is clean, aside from the stray cup or plate left behind from the current party guests, and the decorations are carefully placed.

“Holy shit, you guys really did it up for the party,” you say, eyes wandering to every corner.

“Oh yeah, that’s all Eddie. He loves Halloween. It was his idea for us to dress like KISS,” Gareth says with a playful eye roll.

“Don’t complain, you look so good in that outfit…” Chrissy says, trailing a finger down his chest.

“I’ll have to give you the official house tour,” he says to your friend. “You coming too?” he asks you, but you shake your head.

“Think I’ll get myself a drink,” you say, sticking out your thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

“Sounds good. There’s stuff on the counter and a bar out back by the pool, you can go wherever you’d like,” Gareth says with a smile, and it’s genuine. “Make yourself at home, say hey if you see the other guys around! You can’t miss ‘em, they’ll be dressed like me,” he adds, and you laugh, waving them off as Chrissy tells you to text her if you need anything at all.

You wander into the open kitchen, pleased with the selection of liquor that awaits you. If you’re going to be spending the night alone, you might as well get pleasantly drunk, you think to yourself. People are scattered throughout the room, talking with their circles of friends and acquaintances. There’s a couple different punch bowls filled with various concoctions, each one labeled with the contents. You take your pick of the poison, scooping the liquid up with a ladle and filling your cup.

You scrunch your face as you take the first sip, lips pursing as you adjust to the bite of the alcohol. You glance around the kitchen, taking note of even more decorations as you slink into a corner alone. They seem to fill the whole house, seeping into the living room and the dining room, any area that you can see. Gareth had said it was all Eddie’s doing, and you find yourself growing more curious about the man in question. You really didn’t know anything about Corroded Coffin, didn’t care much to do any research, you only knew what Chrissy told you.

You know that Grant, the rhythm guitarist, has rich parents, and that his dad bought the house for the band to live in while they’re recording their album. Chrissy always says Grant’s the nerdiest of the bunch, insanely smart and very friendly. You know that Jeff, the bassist, is apparently a sweetheart, a bit shy but would give you the shirt off of his back, and you know that Eddie…. well, you know that he’s supposedly “super hot”. Other than that, you’re drawing a blank. Chrissy hasn’t said much about him at all, now that you really consider it. Maybe he’s an introvert and doesn’t come around often, or maybe he’s a complete dick. He is a rockstar, after all. And there’s plenty of pretty women in his house right now, so… you can gather a few assumptions, to say the least.

You don’t get much more time to ponder the subject before you hear loud, raucous laughter coming in through the sliding doors to the backyard. Two figures stumble in, but in the dim light you can’t get a good look right away.

“I was made for lovin’ you baaaabyyyyyy!” a voice booms, and you don’t need more confirmation that it comes from another member of the band.

“How many times are you gonna sing that tonight?” the other voice counters, and you finally see two unfamiliar men walking towards the kitchen, dressed like other members of KISS.

The annoyed voice comes from the stand-in Gene Simmons of the evening, a frizzy black wig on his head and the signature makeup on his face, making him stand out. He sticks his tongue out obnoxiously at the other man, eliciting a laugh from him. Your eyes flit over, then, to the taller figure. Your attention is immediately grabbed — he’s intriguing right away and you aren’t quite sure why. Tall, slim, with a head of shaggy hair that diminishes his need for a wig for the costume. He’s dressed like Paul Stanley, a black star around his eye, surrounded by a face otherwise full of white makeup. He’s not wearing a shirt, at all, just a thick black studded collar around his neck and leather pants. Chunky heeled boots are on his feet, making him appear taller than just about everyone else in the room.

And if he’s dressed like the singer of KISS, then you can only assume this is Eddie. The singer of Corroded Coffin.

“Oh fuck off, Jeff. Have a little fun! It’s Hallo-fucking-ween, dude,” presumably-Eddie says, leaning into Jeff’s space.

“Sorry my idea of fun isn’t listening to your drunk ass sing KISS songs, Ed,” Jeff says, and the nickname gives you confirmation that this is, in fact, your guy.

Eddie just so happens to look up in that moment, his eyes falling upon yours unintentionally. He smiles at you, genuinely smiles at you, all while playfully rolling his eyes at Jeff’s comment. You giggle into your plastic cup, feeling like the two of you are the only people in the room for a moment. He gives you a teeny little wave, the slightest wiggle of his fingers, and you feel your heart rate increase as you return it. What is wrong with you? You were going to blame the alcohol, for the time being.

The moment is gone as soon as it came, Eddie’s attention getting redirected. You watch in fascination as they pour drinks for themselves, easily greeting the other partygoers who come up to them, eager to talk to the hosts. There’s a swarm of girls around Eddie in thirty seconds flat, and your heart deflates, much to your own dismay. Why should it bother you? He doesn’t even know you, and you don’t know him. Chrissy’s implication that you might hit it off with Eddie tonight is letting you get too in your own head, you decide, trying to shake it off.

You scoff, watching as a girl dressed like a devil leans on the counter into Eddie’s space, pressing her breasts together as much as she can. Her fake fangs are exposed as she laughs too loud at something he says, her bright red lipstick accentuating her mouth. You want to internally criticize her and her basic costume, before you’re reminded of your imitation of the most basic furry friend to ever grace Halloween.

As if on cue, someone comes up behind you and yanks on your tail, making you jump. Your drink sloshes over the rim of the cup at the sudden motion, splashing against the front of your outfit. You spin on your heel, met with the face of an unfamiliar man, which really isn’t saying much since almost every face here is unfamiliar.

“Can I help you?” you snark, flattening your lips in a straight line.

“Woah, calm down, pussy cat. Don’t have to bring the claws out,” the man says, smirking at you as if he has genuinely no clue why you’re bothered.

He reaches one arm out, flattening his palm against the wall behind you and leaning his weight on it, towering over you. He smells like cigarettes and booze, and you watch as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“If you don’t mind,” you snap. “I really need to go wash the liquor out of my costume. Asshole,” you mutter the last part, ready to make your exit when the stranger grabs your arm.

“Going so soon? I thought we’d make friends,” he smiles at you, blue eyes piercing down at you as you grow wildly more uncomfortable.

“I’ll pass,” you emphasize, stomping the heel of your boot down onto his foot.

He yelps in pain, releasing your arm and allowing you to speed-walk out of the crowded kitchen. You can see various pairs of eyes on you as you scurry out, and you can hear your victim cursing you out through the bass coming through the stereo.

You high-tail it out the back door, heels clicking aggressively on pavement as you push through more people surrounding the pool. You finally stop to calm yourself down when you find a lull in the crowds, a spot where you can be relatively alone. You silently thank yourself that the stranger didn’t follow you, but what you didn’t realize is that someone else had.

You exhale, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a swig. Your now-wet top clings to your skin, aggravating you, but the last thing you want to do is wander back into the house in search of the bathroom.

“H-hey, um, are you alright?” a voice rings out directly behind you.

You jolt just slightly, not expecting company. Turning to face the other person, your eyes first land on those big, black platform boots. Eddie had followed you. Your gaze trails up his figure, leather pants and studded belt and bare torso, until you meet his eyes for the second time this evening.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw what happened in there and, uh, to be honest I don’t even know why we keep inviting Hargrove to these things—” Eddie rambles, as if Hargrove is a familiar name to you, as if he’s nervous to be around you — like he isn’t the star-studded host of this party.

“I’m okay,” you reply, cutting off his sentence, smirking a little. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I know these parties can get crazy, but… I always want to make sure everyone’s safe,” he says, his gaze softening as he says the last part. “I’m Eddie, by the way,” he introduces, holding out a hand for you to shake.

You immediately notice the big, silver rings adorning many of his fingers, your eyes lingering on them for maybe a second too long before you remember he’s waiting for you. You extend a hand, grasping his and shaking it.

“Y/N,” you reply. “I, uh, I’m here with Chrissy.”

“Oh, you’re Cunningham’s friend!?” he asks, lighting up at that. Excited as he says it as if you’re the celebrity here, not him.

You nod, smiling at him now.

“Damn, and she already ditched you to go screw Gareth, I’m assuming?” he jokes, and you laugh, feeling lighter by the second. Forgetting your less-than-pleasant encounter from moments ago.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” you say sarcastically, smiling wider when he snorts.

There’s a pause, you can feel him staring at you as you take another sip of alcohol. “Well, I’m a little offended she didn’t tell me that she had such a beautiful friend,” he says, and you feel your cheeks grow warm at his forwardness.

You duck your head, avoiding his eyes as your face scrunches in a shy smile. “Ah, there’s the rockstar charm,” you say, loving the sound of his laugh that comes in response.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he playfully asks, cocking his head as he leans forward to meet your gaze.

“How many other girls have you used that line on tonight?” you counter, playful but keeping a safe distance.

“Ouch, sweetheart. You really take me for that much of a player?” he stumbles back, clutching his chest as if he’s been wounded. Your eyes linger maybe too long on the tattoos littering his torso, the slight smattering of hair on his pale skin.

“Well, you are parading around your own party shirtless. Seems like a tool move to me,” you smirk, finishing off your drink with one last sip.

“Darling, you’re dressed like a cat. I don’t think you can come for my costume right now,” he flashes his perfect teeth at you, unable to contain his smile at your banter.

There’s a moment of silence, you staring out across the yard at the bright lights of the city down below, stretching vast and far. Then he speaks up again.

“I mean it. I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’re very pretty,” you say honestly, letting yourself give in to his flirtations.

“Is it the makeup? Am I gonna have to wear this every time I see you now?”

You giggle. “Every time? Are there going to be more times, mister rockstar?”

“I mean, I’d love to take the time to get to know you outside of a party setting, if that’s okay with you,” he smiles bashfully, and you can only assume he’s blushing under all of that makeup.

“Yeah. I think that’s okay with me,” you reply.

Conversation flows easily with Eddie, the less-than- pleasant encounter with the stranger and the spilled alcohol on your shirt long forgotten. He tells you about his life before the band started to make it big, how he always dreamed of being a rockstar. He shyly told you about how he used to parade around his home as a kid, playing his little guitar and singing songs he made up until his uncle was begging him to quiet down and go to bed.

You confess that you really didn’t know much about the band, other than things Chrissy had told you, and you apologize although he tells you it’s absolutely not necessary.

You both end up sitting in the grass side-by-side, talking so much you don’t even remember making the choice to sit, it just happened. There’s a lull in the conversation, his eyes searching yours before glancing down to your lips. He moves just slightly closer, his breath hitting your face with each exhale. You feel yours catch in your throat, anticipating his next move.

You don’t get the chance to see what that move is before the girl in the devil costume from the kitchen approaches. She instantly has her hands on Eddie, grabbing his arm with a red-gloved hand and pulling him to stand. “Eddieeee, come on! You have to come play spin the bottle with us!” she pleads, her voice too whiny to not be part of an act.

“I- uh,” he stumbles, looking at you with an emotion you can’t place.

The girl moves to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his chest now, starting to push him backwards. “Come on, it’s no fun if you don’t play,” she continues, her shrill voice grating in your ears.

You don’t like how close she’s getting, how unafraid she is to be touchy with him. Who even is she? Are they friends? Are they more than friends? She’s pushing him further away from you by the second, not once acknowledging your presence. You scoff, looking to the side, avoiding Eddie’s gaze.

Before Eddie can really do anything, he’s being shoved fully away from you. You don’t see the way he desperately looks to you for an out, simply bothered by the fact that this girl won’t leave him alone.

You wonder if you were right, if he called you beautiful just like he calls every other girl beautiful. You didn’t want to believe it, but, he’s about to go play a game with a bunch of drunk people where the whole point is to kiss each other, so. It’s not looking great for you.

You’d be lying, though, if you said your curiosity wasn’t peaked. You find yourself bored watching partygoers splash around in the pool, and you can’t shove down your internal need to find out what mister rockstar and the devil girl are up to inside. Your feet are carrying you before you can decide against it, leading you back inside, back through the kitchen where you pour yourself another drink, and then to the living room where you find a large group sat in a circle.

You hang back, just slightly, not wanting to make it too obvious that you’re watching the game, even though you aren’t the only one who came to spectate. To be completely honest, the first few spins you witness aren’t very exciting. You don’t know any of these people, so what should it matter to you if they kiss? You’re about to step away when the circle erupts with various ‘Ooooh’s and whistles.

“Come on, Eddie! You gotta do it!” a now very drunk Jeff screams.

To your absolute horror, Eddie had spun the bottle, only for it to land on the little bitch whose name you still don’t know in the devil costume. Eddie looks at the girl, who is very clearly eagerly awaiting a kiss from the singer of Corroded Coffin, but then he looks up at you.

You didn’t think he’d realized you were there, didn’t think he saw you lurking, but he looked at you too pointedly for it to have been an accident.

You swallow, suddenly feeling awkward amongst the silence of the room. Everyone’s watching Eddie, expecting him to get his kiss over with and move on. He stands finally, stepping forward. You almost want to look away, not interested in watching him lock lips with someone that isn’t you. But you can’t look away, not when he bypasses the anonymous girl and heads right for you.

“Um, I’m right here!” she says, her tone snarky and honestly annoying enough to make you want to slap her.

“Yeah, well I’m not kissing you, Tina,” Eddie says. “Spin the bottle. What are we, fourteen?” he asks, eyes still locked on you as he stands merely a step away now.

Your heart thumps in your chest, every bit of your nervous system attuned to him. Your mouth hangs slightly open, not knowing what to do or what to say.

He steps even closer, closing the distance between you. “I want to kiss you, that okay?” he murmurs, letting one hand rest so gently on your waist.

You want to laugh in Tina’s face. You want to point and laugh and rub it in, but that wouldn’t be the appropriate response here. You need to kiss Eddie, sooner rather than later.

You just nod, a smile playing on your lips. He leans his face closer to yours, hovering by your ear to whisper, “I’m sorry, about her. She’s… a friend of a friend who always ends up at our parties. Trust me, I have no interest there.”

The reassurance really isn’t necessary, you barely know Eddie after all, but it’s extremely appreciated. You feel your heart flutter a little, smug and satisfied all in one. And then his lips are on yours, not giving a damn who’s watching, not a care in the world for what anyone might say.

His lips are soft, warm against yours and the way he cradles the back of your head in his hands makes you weak at the knees. Your noses brush before you pull away, and the two of you giggle in unison like you just shared some exciting secret with each other.

Tina is dumbfounded where she sits on the carpet, watching you. You swear steam would be coming out of her ears if this was a cartoon. You give her a little wave and an all-too-fake smile before Eddie grabs your hand to lead you away.

Not a single word is spoken as he pulls you out of the living room, you’re silent until you reach the stairs to go up to the second floor.

“So you really don’t have history with Tina?” you playfully ask, pressing the issue just to be a pain, and he groans.

“Ugh, god, no. Like I said, she always ends up at these things and she’s all over me. But the funny part is, we went to high school together. She bullied the crap outta me,” he explains, and you can’t help but laugh. “Spread some nasty rumors on social media…” he shakes his head, smirking at the thought now.

“Of course,” you roll your eyes, “Now where are you taking me, rockstar?” you grab his waist once you’ve reached the top of the stairs, pulling him closer to you.

“To my room, because there’s no way I can handle any more interruptions tonight,” he says, his hands finding your hips, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment.

Another kiss is ghosted over your lips, open-mouthed and teasing, leaving you chasing after him when he pulls away and starts to walk down the hallway. He opens the dark wood door, gesturing for you to enter first.

The second he’s inside with you, his mouth is on yours, your back pressed to the wall as his hands grip your waist. He fumbles with the light switch behind you, providing a dim glow throughout the room. He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, licking inside of your mouth and groaning when your tongue meets his. Your noses brush and you’re sure his makeup is getting smeared on your face, or vice-versa, and the thought makes you smile into the kiss. His lips work their way down to your jaw, nipping and mouthing at the skin before residing on your neck, sucking till it stings.

You hiss, arching your back into him, hands grabbing at his bare shoulders as your nails dig into the skin.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, hands grabbing your face as he brings you in for another heated kiss.

He starts to walk backwards, guiding you with him towards his bed. His boots are kicked off of his feet carelessly, and you toe off your heels in tandem. He reaches the mattress, falling back onto it and scooting backwards until he’s fully on the bed. You follow his lead, straddling his lap and letting your hands roam his bare chest. He watches you like you’re an ethereal being, eyes big and round and completely full of desire. His hands wrap around to grab your ass beneath the fabric of your skirt, filling his open palms with the soft flesh and squeezing.

Your hands waste no time in finding their way to the zipper of his pants, tugging it down after undoing the button.

“Need these off, Ed,” you say, sounding more whiny than you’d wanted. Your face gets hot at the smirk he gives you in return.

“Oh, so we’re desperate now, huh?” he says, the cocky rockstar demeanor coming out in full-swing. It makes you embarrassingly flustered, your cunt throbbing for him.

All you can do is nod, your hand trailing over the bulge that waits for you beneath fabric.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, starting to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

You remove yourself from his lap, letting him undress — your mouth practically watering when his cock springs free and smacks against his stomach. He’s fully naked for you now, given that he already wasn’t wearing a shirt. All that’s left is the studded choker around his neck, and it makes you drool.

“Like what you see, baby?” he asks, a smug little grin on his face as he watches the way you take in his entire body.

You already noticed the tattoos on his chest and arms, but now you’re noticing the ones on his thighs. He’s unreal, so unfairly gorgeous and captivating. He’s perfectly sculpted, a sharp V carved into his pelvis that simply leads your eyes down a path to his perfect cock. It’s big — long and not too thick, veiny with a pink, leaking tip. He must catch your intrigued expression, because he laughs, a devious little sound that tells you he can’t have any pure intentions.

“Why don’t you lay down so I can get you ready to take this cock?” he purrs, slender fingers stroking up and down one side of your body.

You shudder at his touch, moving to lay down on his bed. You pull your shirt off before you do, leaving your black, lacy bra on display for the man beside you. Your tits rest perfectly in it, and Eddie’s sure to get an eyeful. His hands gently hold your hips once you’re situated comfortably, partially laying down with your back propped against his many fluffy pillows. He leans down, letting his lips graze over your jaw, your cheek, your nose, before finally pressing to your mouth. He brings one hand up, pulling your cat-ear headband off of your head, deciding it can’t be very comfortable to have on for hours at a time. It makes you breathe a little laugh into the kiss, remembering how silly you must look with your painted on whiskers and nose.

He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it, his mouth pulling off of yours and starting to travel down your neck. He kisses your shoulders, your collarbone, sucking on the most sensitive bits of skin and making you whine as you wriggle beneath him. He finds his way down to your breasts, hands sliding your bra straps down your shoulders as you arch your back for him, giving him room to unhook the clasp that sits at your spine. His lips immediately attach to one of your pert nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around the small bud. One of his large hands cups your other breast, the cold silver of the rings on his fingers a sharp contrast to your searing skin.

He switches after a moment, sucking the opposite nipple into his warm, wet mouth. Something akin to a growl leaves his mouth when your fingers tangle in his hair and tug, and it spurs you on to keep going. His lips unlatch themselves from your breast, his mouth moving down down down, trailing kisses everywhere it goes. Your cunt throbs when his mouth approaches the waistband of your tight little skirt, his eager hands hooking beneath the fabric and beginning to yank it down, along with your underwear.

He peppers kisses lower and lower on your body, his mouth following close behind the clothes that he pulls off of you, covering every inch of skin as it’s exposed to him. He discards everything onto the floor, definitely tearing your stockings in the process of ripping them off of you. Your mind is a blur as he hastily attaches his lips to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you with complete ease. You weren’t expecting all of the stimulation so suddenly, your body writhing on the mattress as he sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth.

“More, Eddie, need more,” you pant, knowing you’re probably being greedy but knowing all the same that he won’t deny you what you want.

He hums against your cunt, immediately adding a second finger inside of you. He curls the digits, collecting your sticky wetness and groaning at the filthy noises that his movements make. Your hands tug harder on his hair as you throw your head back onto the pillows, cursing at how good he feels. Going in, you had no idea how tonight would play out, but you certainly didn’t expect to be hooking up with the frontman of Corroded Coffin. Your head spins at the thought of how many other people would probably die to be in your position right now, and it only makes you more turned on.

“Want one more, baby? Need to make sure you can take my fingers before you take my cock,” he purrs, smirking up at you.

“Yeah, please, I can take it,” you reassure him, and he slips a third finger in.

His fingers are thick, no doubt about it, and they stretch you so deliciously you feel like you could cry. The silk sheets beneath you feel cold against your skin, easing the heat that floods your entire body. You grip them with one hand, the other still in Eddie’s hair as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit in the perfect rhythm. He doesn’t dare change his pace, not with the way you’re moaning his name like a siren song, drawing him more and more into you.

You’re rapidly approaching your release, that much he knows, and he wants to send you free-falling over that edge. The way you suck his fingers right in practically makes him drool, he can’t get enough. Loud, shrill moans of his name leave your mouth as he curls his fingers into that perfect soft spot inside of you, and Eddie couldn’t care less if the whole damn house can hear you.

“Gonna cum, Eddie, ohmygod—” you’re cut off mid-sentence, the air stolen from your lungs as you come undone for him.

You squeeze around his fingers, soaking him as your body trembles. He pulls them out of you, slowly bringing them to his lips, making sure your eyes are on him. He sucks the digits clean of your juices, humming contently around them. You ache for him, your body desperate to have him even though it’s only been seconds since he’d been pleasuring you.

He moves to hover over you, reattaching his lips to yours in a heated kiss. It’s somehow gentle and rough at the same time, a weird but enticing juxtaposition. He tastes like you and it drives you crazy as your mouths clash together, all teeth and tongues.

“Fuck, baby, hold on. Let me get a condom,” Eddie says, nearly breathless as he pulls away.

“No— want you to fuck me raw,” you mewl, reaching out to stop him as he goes to stand.

“Baby…” he says, looking at you with uncertainty. He never goes without a condom, and certainly doesn’t want you to feel pressured to forgo one.

“Please, Eddie. Just pull out,” you plead with him, and you honestly can’t believe your nerve right now. Begging the famous rockstar you just met to fuck you raw, as if you have all of this power over him. What you don’t know is that Eddie already wants to give you anything you ask for.

“Okay, alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead before positioning himself on top of you.

He lines his cock up with your entrance, and you can feel the way you throb for him. You know you’re even more soaked than before, and you hardly worry about whether or not he’ll fit.

“You ready?” he asks sincerely. Big brown eyes searching yours for your approval.

“Mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter closed when you feel him start to press in.

Moans leave each of your mouths in unison as he sinks inside inch by inch. Your nails dig in to the skin on his back, dragging down when he bottoms out inside of you. He hisses, breathing heavy as he tries to gain some composure. You feel so good around him, too good, and it takes all of his focus to not bust immediately.

“Please move, need you to move,” you whine, looking up at him with your big, pleading eyes.

He nods, “Okay, baby. Gonna give it to you so good, yeah?”

He starts thrusting, slowly at first, dragging his cock almost fully out of you before rutting back in. The air is forced from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent moan. His movements stay slow like that for a little while, giving you the friction you need but still teasing. Moans leave your lips as he slowly pushes himself all the way in, letting you fully feel the way he stretches your walls to fit him.

He starts to speed up then, setting a steady pace as he fucks into you harder. He does it so well, filling you to the brim and making you clench around him. You can feel every vein and ridge on his cock, the pleasure making your body erupt in goosebumps.

“Shit, feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” Eddie pants, his hips smacking against yours roughly. “Wanna try something different?” he asks, waiting for your approval which comes without hesitation.

He pulls out of you, making you wince slightly. He stands at the side of the bed, coaxing you to move towards him. You oblige, scooting right to the edge of the mattress. Strong hands grip your legs, hoisting your feet up onto his shoulders, exposing you perfectly to him. You feel more vulnerable like this, and it makes you antsy as you wait for him to slide back in. When he does, you see stars. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting spots it couldn’t before. You watch as he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck prominent as he clenches his jaw, a guttural groan escaping him.

“You’re so damn beautiful, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, looking back down at you with sincere eyes. “How’d I get the most perfect girl on the planet?”

And then he bends down, your legs still hooked over his shoulders, your body practically folded in half now. You nearly scream out his name, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your skin filling the space. He leans down to kiss you, his lips and firm against yours, muffling your pretty noises. He pulls away, letting out a smug little chuckle at the way you instantly moan for him, noticing the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.

“Gonna cry for me, baby? My cock feels so good you’re gonna cry about it?” he teases, watching your brow furrow in concentration as you get closer and closer to release.

“You’re very — fuck — very fucking modest,” you choke out, trying and failing to bite back your whimpers.

He laughs again, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You know you fucking love it,” he murmurs, teeth biting at your earlobe before he pulls away. “I can tell you love it, cause you’re suckin’ me in like you were made for me.”

You let out a whine at his words, pinching your eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he continues to split you open. “Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop,” you plead, your body jolting with every harsh thrust he gives you.

He grunts as he fucks you faster, watching in awe as your tits bounce on your chest. He can feel how soaked you are for him, can see your cream pooling around the base of him when he sheathes himself fully inside.

“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he rasps, leaning down to kiss along your jawline.

All you can get out is a wobbly “Uh-huh,” nodding your head to the best of your ability. His fingers dig in to the meat of your thighs, a dull ache from his harsh grip barely noticeable in the back of your mind. One hand moves from its spot on your leg to reach down and play with your clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing quick circles over it.

Your back arches off the mattress, your legs shaking as you cry out his name. A few more deep thrusts and you’re plummeting over the edge for the second time tonight, your cunt tensing up around him over and over. The way your walls flutter around his cock brings him dangerously close to release, and he pulls his cock out quickly before he’s pumping it in his fist. All it takes is a few strokes before ropes of his cum are covering your body, splattering over your bare chest and stomach.

You let your legs drop from his shoulders, aching as you stretch them out. You feel like you’re made of rubber, limbs wobbly as your feet drop to the floor.

“Holy shit,” is all you can say, staring up at his ceiling as he chuckles at you from the side of the bed.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he says, shaking his head with a sweet little smile. He stretches, muscles flexing as he raises his arms to the ceiling, cocking an eyebrow at you when he catches you staring.

“Says you…” you reply, pulling the sheets up to hide your face, suddenly shy.

“Let me get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asks, holding out his arm for you, pulling you up when you take his hand.

When you step out of the shower with him, after your body has been cleaned and every inch of your skin has been kissed by his soft mouth, he gives you his big clothes to put on. You change and brush your hair, letting his hands hold your waist as he tries to invade your space to kiss you even more. You can’t help but admire his face, even more gorgeous now that his Halloween makeup is washed down the drain.

You both shuffle out of the bedroom carefully afterwards, trying to gauge how much the party has died down, only to be met with a laugh from the opposite end of the hallway.

Your head shoots up, seeing Gareth and Chrissy stepping out of his room, looking wildly similar to you and Eddie; costumes off, makeup off, a few extra hickeys on Gareth’s neck. Chrissy’s mouth hangs open, her eyes flitting from you to Eddie and back again.

“I told you!!” she shouts, giggling before Gareth takes her hand, pulling her down the stairs with him.

You try to bite back a smile, heat creeping up to your face.

“What exactly did she tell you, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks down at you, pulling your body to his. His cocky expression gives you the hint that he already has an idea.

“Shut up, rockstar.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic

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inkykeiji · 6 months

Text

you can always take more than nothing

character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: here’s my halloween piece, only half a month late! still, i hope you can enjoy it! as always, please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title cred: alice in wonderland

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, public sex/exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, size difference, biting/marking, blood, minimal prep, rough sex, teasing, begging, dacryphilia, humiliation, a lil bit of degradation, drugs, toxic relationship

words: 8.6k

synopsis:

Those few remaining scraps of decency you’d both been clinging to have been devoured by Mikey’s growing selfishness, no longer caring about what others might see or think or say—it’s not like anyone’s dumb enough to do anything about it anyway; it’s not like anyone has enough of a death-wish to try. He’s the motherfucking Boss. And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always.

The music is loud, so loud the walls seem to be breathing with it, bleeding with it, flashes of neon pouring over the frosted mosaics of glass and marble.

A party, thinly veiled as a corporate event.

There are people everywhere, scattered across every surface, crystal glasses filled with expensive liqour and cocktail concoctions glittering in their palms. You barely know any of them.

They’re all supposed business partners, allies and associates, ‘friends’ of your Daddy. Not that it matters all that much to you; they aren’t allowed to say a word to you anyway.

Your eyes scan the expanse of the club, on the hunt for a familiar face. Takeomi is in the corner, obnoxiously blowing smoke into some of the higher end girls’ faces. He’s really taking his role of The Caterpillar earnestly.

Good. You told him it suited him.

At your request (AKA at Mikey’s demand), the top members of Bonten have dressed up as Alice in Wonderland characters, donning an impressive group costume. You’ve been taking the whole thing pretty seriously—beginning your extensive planning in August, drafting up designs and taking everyone’s precise measurements to have each outfit custom made to their exact frames—which means the rest of Bonten has been taking the whole thing pretty seriously, too.

Not that any of them mind.

What Mikey’s little angel wants, Mikey’s little angel gets. It’s standard protocol, really; you’re merely an extension of the Boss and thus must be treated as an extension of the Boss, and Mikey’s best men have no issues complying.

Sighing, you rest your chin in your palms, sombreness souring your features. An ache, dull and dense, settles in the pit of your chest. It’s a desolate sort of longing, a gentle but constant gnawing that cannot be sated by anyone or anything other than it’s creator, something that weights your lungs and heavies your heart and stalls your breath, a vital part missing.

You miss Mikey.

You miss Mikey, but you know this ‘event’ really does have some sort of business significance; that, while it’s mostly an excuse to get drunk and high on Halloween night, it also serves as the grounds for some sort of meeting or negotiation or proposition—you can never be sure which, with Bonten.

You aren’t allowed to know. You’re lucky to be here at all.

But you miss Mikey.

You shouldn’t be selfish. You know you shouldn’t be selfish; he’s already stretched so thin between so many obligations and obituaries, and you shouldn’t add to that strain. You won’t add to that strain. You’ll sit here, pretty and perfect like his precious little princess should be, and you’ll wait, patiently, until Daddy has a moment to spare you.

He always finds a moment to spare, no matter how many duties and commitments he has. He always finds a space for you in his day, even if he has to carve it out with his bare hands.

So you mustn’t be greedy. You will be good. For him, you’ll do anything, no matter how difficult.

“No frowning, miss Alice,” Sanzu chastises through a stretched grin, wide and carved into his cheeks—a smile so sharp, so sinister it puts the true Cheshire Cat to disgrace.

He swims into your vision, teeth glinting with teals and fuchsias, an intricately wrapped box in his palms. Tugging on the ribbon a little, he unboxes it to reveal a wealth of small confections, individually wrapped in colourful foils.

“Look, your favourite kitty brought you some chocolate.”

That brightens your mood a little—a sugar fiend, just like your Daddy is—and your mouth drops open expectantly, cute tongue unfurling in invitation.

Sanzu rolls his eyes but places a truffle on your tongue anyway, pressing it down on the slick muscle and forcing your lips to close around his first knuckle to suck the treat free from him, laughing at the way your face twists.

Pervert.

His nails taste like blood—not that you’ve come to expect any less—but the rusty copper is quickly eradicated by sugar, a content little hum vibrating around the melting chocolate.

“Good, huh?” Sanzu asks around his own chocolate, shuffling a gold box of expensive Italian truffles in his palm as he picks through them, confections jumping perilously with the motion, shimmering wrappers catching in the flashing neon strobes. “They’re imported.”

“Where’d you get those?” you ask through strings of caramel and cocoa, welding to your molars.

“A little Halloween treat courtesy of Mikey,” he says dutifully, jostling the box in emphasis. “And an apology, for taking longer than expected.”

Warmth blooms in your chest, swelling with your heart and stretching your ribs. The last few remnants of displeasure fade from your face, giving way to a small smile.

How very Mikey of him, to send his second in command armed with artisan chocolates and a short, sweet explanation; something he knew would make you smile, something he knew would alleviate some of your impatience, a reassurance that he misses you too, that he’ll be back soon, that he’s thinking of you.

“There’s our pretty girl,” Sanzu teases, but his own grin has softened a little, the glint in his eyes dulled to a twinkle. “No more pouting, ‘kay? Your trusty Cheshire Cat will be by your side until your Hatter returns.”

Ah. A polite way of saying that you’re stuck with him until Mikey’s finished his work, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

That takes longer than either of you expect, though, Sanzu’s plan of entertaining you by leading you, hand-in-hand, around the club to assess each Bonten member’s costume not nearly as lengthy as he had anticipated.

Because it only takes a mere twenty minutes or so to examine all of them, with you near instantaneously deciding that the Haitanis have won the make-believe costume contest you and Sanzu had been holding between yourselves.

Sanzu had agreed—everyone looks impeccable in their custom-made costumes, tailored specifically to them at your behest, but no one had any hope of eclipsing the Haitanis in their form-fitted pinstriped suits, each stitch and thread molded flawlessly to their frames, perfectly pressed collars embroidered with Dee and Dum in shimmery purple thread, powder blue bowties immaculately symmetrical around their tattooed necks.

Now you’re back at the bar, Sanzu’s shaky fingers sifting through the box of truffles as he searches for something, anything, to distract him from the way the blood in his veins is beginning to dry up, the way his capillaries are withering, brittle and thirsty, the way his skin is beginning to itch.

Because he can’t do a goddamn thing about it. Not yet, anyway.

No narcotics when he’s chaperoning you; that’s a hard rule. That’s a rule that’s been sewn into the tissues of his brain so tightly it’s interwoven with his synapses. That’s an execution rule; a one time only rule—breaking that rule will get him fucking killed.

But you’re both starting to become a little bit restless.

“Come on,” you’re begging, word dragged across your tongue in a petulant whine. “Just one more chocolate?”

“I said no,” Sanzu snaps, eyes hard. “Mikey said three. Mikey’s the Boss. Whatever Mikey says goes; Mikey’s girl, Mikey’s rules!”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, forehead scrunching with a pout.

“Yeah, and that’s why he sticks me with you,” Sanzu says, though he sounds almost proud, as if it’s an honour to babysit you, a title of high esteem. “Because I can resist your tricks.”

“My charms,” you correct.

“Whatever,” he waves a hand. “It’s all semantics. Point is, I know how to say no to you, unlike a few certain someones.”

Unimpressed ice blue eyes sweep across the venue, hovering pointedly on the faces of his colleagues—Kakucho, the Dormouse; Kokonoi, the White Rabbit; Rindou, Tweedle-Dum.

Your eyes follow his, and you smirk to yourself. Kakucho is the easiest out of those three; Kokonoi sometimes deceives you, allowing you to do as you please only to tattle to Mikey later, and Rindou always demands some sort of payment, claiming it’s only fair that you give him something he wants in return.

Turning back, you’re about to respond, something bratty and bitter simmering on your tongue, when a pair of hands and a smooth voice cuts you off.

You’d know that touch, that tone, anywhere.

“Pray, tell me, Miss Alice,” Mikey murmurs in your ear as he slinks up behind you, palms curling around your hips and pulling you back toward his chest. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

“Because it can produce a few notes,” you answer dutifully, head tipping back against his shoulder to glance at him through the corner of your eye. “Though they are very flat.”

“Correct,” he responds. “My, what a smart little girl you are.”

It’s soaked in condescension, compliment drawled out through a supercilious smirk, breath wafting across your face sweltering and saccharine.

“Do I get a reward, Mister Hatter?” you ask, sweeter than sugarcane, batting eyelashes framing hopeful, dewy eyes.

A hum vibrates on his tongue, onyx gaze apathetic and appraising as it glides across your features slowly, thoroughly, pulling each of your thoughts apart and putting them back together again.

Your head rolls to the side, over his protruding collarbone, to stare at him more resolutely. And God, it’s the way you’re looking up at him, eyes glazed with dedication, with devoutness, like you want to fucking devour him.

Like you want him to devour you.

Hips pushing back, you rub your ass into his cock in inconspicuous little motions, lashes fluttering a little, back arched in a perfect curve and tits on full display.

From this angle, there’s no way he can’t see right down your dress; there’s no way he can’t see the red lace of your bra straining against supple skin as your chest rises and falls with gentle breaths, no way he doesn’t notice the very tips of your nipples, cheekily peeking out from beneath the delicate material with each swell of your breasts.

Bony fingers flex on your waist, and he huffs out a smirk.

His ebony pupils are enormous, blown wide and gaping, gnawing away at the whites of his eyes.

He’s high.

It’s evident in the milky film of artificial ecstasy lacquering his gaze, doped up and hazy, but it does nothing to dilute the potent love he has for you, melting his stare to something soft and sticky, pouring past his lashes.

He’s feeling good tonight.

“I think I know what my little girl wants,” one hand flattens against your stomach, holding you flush to his body as the other slides up your ribs to cup your breast, filling his palm with it and kneading, slow and deliberate, simply enjoying the feeling of you. “And it is very naughty of her.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm,” he hums, head drooping to nose along the curve of your neck. “Really.”

His lips brush along your skin as he speaks, his voice barely more than a gentle vibration along the column of your throat, and you whimper a little, fingers curling around his wrist and pressing him closer.

“A-And what’s that?”

“Aw, can’t you guess?” he tuts his tongue. “And I thought you were smart. Must’ve been mistaken. Where’s my smart little girl gone now?”

Grip firm on your waist, his hips rut forward, hard cock prodding at you through the layers of tulle. A discontented little sound vibrates in your throat as you squirm a little—and oh, he knows what you’re whining about, greedy girl, knows that you can barely feel his cock through the thick petticoat, knows you want more—and he presses his hips further forward, grinding harder into your ass.

“Daddy—Da-Daddy, it’s—”

“What?” he shoves again, stronger this time, teeth nipping at the skin below your ear. “Hm?”

“Your cock is hard,” you nearly whine, pushing back against him in a pitiful little wiggle, desperate for more friction.

“And who’s fault is that, huh?”

The hand massaging your breast gives a final squeeze before his fingers find your nipple, pinching it through the material of your dress and bra, then rubbing the heel of his thumb over it in hard, rhythmic motions.

“Is your pussy wet?” he huffs the question into your ear, his hot breath procuring shivers. “I bet it is, naughty girl. Daddy wants to feel it.”

“Please, please,” your hips buck a little, punctuating your pleads, chest pressing into his touch.

“Please? Please what?”

“Touch me, Daddy, touch me, touch me.”

Slender hands slip beneath the puffy layers of lace, calloused fingertips rough as they skim up your smooth thighs, outlining the silk ruffles of the bloomers he bought you specifically for this costume.

Your hips twitch slightly, legs spreading instinctively as his fingers trail along the scrunched hem to the apex of your thighs, pressing two into the rapidly dampening material. Pensively, they caress your slit through the material, prodding your hole just a little before rubbing two slow, hard circles into your clit.

“Christ,” he breathes out, curse splintering at the end. “You’re so fucking wet baby, and I’ve barely done anything yet.”

His palm flattens against you, all four fingers dipping into your core nearly to the first knuckle and then curling, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit, and your pelvis cants reflexively, almost as if you’re attempting to draw his fingertips further in.

“How are you this wet already, huh?” he keens, voice straining beneath his own desire. “Been thinking naughty thoughts?”

“Jus’want your cock,” you slur out honestly, hips gyrating in pathetic little circles, an embarrassing attempt to follow his touch.

“Oh, yeah? That’s all it takes, eh?” he rolls your clit between his thumb and his forefinger, nonchalantly toying with it as he mulls. “Just my cock?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod blearily. “Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

“Cute,” Mikey spits, the compliment sheathed in venom, “how utterly stupid just the thought of my cock makes you.”

His fingers clamp down on the swollen nub and tug, your whole body jolting with the pain, a yelp hitching in your chest.

The arm wrapped around your waist tightens in response, holding you close, holding you still as he humps away at you, sloppy and uneven.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, fingers tweaking your clit in rhythmic motions, sparks of pleasure chased by shocks of pain. “You’re so fucking easy for your Daddy, aren’t you? So quick to get soaked for him, so quick to get ready for him, such a good little slut for him, yeah?”

His voice is gravelly, letters wispy around the edges despite fact that he’s nearly shouting over music. Another rush of heat surges between your thighs, and he laughs, dark and dangerous.

Your clit throbs in his touch, the silk of your panties drenched all the way through, aiding his fingers in their slippery motions—several small, fast S gestures, followed by a few firm strokes of your slit, fingertips gliding over your folds with ease. You’re so soaked, whole cunt now outlined by the shimmery material, molding to your folds and enabling him to feel every dip, every bump, every crevice, another chuckle dripping from his lips as your little hole clenches around nothing.

“Daddy,” you whimper, thighs squeezing together tightly as you attempt to fuck his fingers. “Daddy, I—I can’t—I need—”

“Shh,” he hushes you, lips caressing the curve of your ear. “I know, baby. Daddy knows what you need.”

A palm wraps around your wrist as Mikey mutters something about going somewhere a little more private, pulling you along behind him and leading you toward those purple velvet VIP couches, empty and roped off in a darkened corner.

“What are we—” you begin as Mikey collapses heavily on the couch, knees spread wide open, hips shifting up slightly as he forces his feet even further apart, getting comfortable.

C’mere, his lips mime, voice drowning in heavy bass, his chin jutting in the general direction of his straining cock, yearning against pin-striped pants.

Strong hands curl around your hips and yank you backward, the abrupt motion punching a sound of surprise from your chest as you tumble into his lap, spine pressed tight to his sternum.

The hinges of his jaw hook over your shoulder, a crude way of keeping you from squirming as he manhandles you into straddling his thighs, hard cock pressing into your core.

“Holy fuck,” he pants out, the curse damp against your skin. “You’re so wet I can feel you leaking through my pants.”

“Daddy,” you say, and although it’s meant to be a warning, it comes out as a whine, stringy and petulant.

Because it already feels so good, and he’s already so hard, and you just can’t help but rock your hips back, slow and firm, whimpering a bit as the head of his cock glides over your clit, teasing as the slick, swollen little nub jumps beneath the dull pressure.

He laughs a little, nothing more than a deep, dark rumbling within his ribs, reverberating against your back.

“You’re so fucking nasty, baby,” he chides lowly, though you can hear the self-satisfied smirk sewn into his voice, tinged with sadism, as he rolls his hips up twice, grinding his cock into your drenched core. “You’re so fucking needy, baby, trying to get yourself off in the middle of this crowded club.”

You are, you are, another little sound escaping your lips as you rut back against him, already beginning to speed up, rubbing the head of his cock over your clit in quick little strokes.

“It’s really precious, y’know, how pathetically eager you are for me,” he murmurs, notes of fondness negating the sting the insult should bring, words gone melty and sweet. “But you gotta stop humping Daddy for a moment, so he can get his cock out and give you what you really want.”

A disgruntled little whine sounds in your throat, motions stuttering a little as you attempt to stop moving. But it all feels so incredible, greedily unable to quell your hips completely as they rotate in messy little circles, tummy starting to ripple with each graze of his blunt head against your clit.

“Hey,” he warns, sharp and stern, a palm colliding with your bare thigh and leaving a burning handprint seared in its wake, the impact of the slap loud enough to draw a few pairs of eyes. “Don’t get bratty with me, or you won’t get anything at all, you understand?”

Your head’s nodding before the words are even finished leaving his lips—yes, Daddy, of course, Daddy, brats don’t deserve to be filled by Daddy’s cock—desperate to be good for him, to be the best for him.

Because you know he isn’t fucking around; Mikey’s threats are never empty threats, each and every word plucked from his brain with superlative care, heavy and infused with meaning.

It’s terrifying and tantilizing, how easily and instantly he can switch from one mode to the other: from playful to imposing, from Daddy to Leader, a pleasant shiver skittering up your spine, your hole clenching and pulsing as your stomach plummets, gut weighted with a tingling pressure.

It’s a bit of a task, freeing his cock and manoeuvring yourself as you try to inconspicuously sink down on it, but you both manage, your fluffy petticoat of crinoline and tulle providing a decent amount of privacy.

A hiss slips through the gaps of your gritted teeth as it begins to tear you in two, cute little hole stinging as it strains around his cock, struggling to accommodate his girth, delicate skin splitting itself open for him.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he breathes lowly, voice vibrating against your ear. “There you go, good girl.”

An airy little moan spills from your lips as he bottoms out, cockhead pressed snug to your cervix, and you melt back into him, skull knocking against his shoulder, eyes slipped shut.

“Feel better, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble out dreamily. “S’good, S’right.”

“It feels right, huh?” he chuckles a little, thumbs rubbing fond circles into your hips, his hands all the way up your skirt, slipped beneath the frills and fluff, forearms buried in your dress. “You like it when Daddy fills you up?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. “Stretches me out real good, makes me feel all stuffed ‘n full.”

Whole, complete, one. Like everything feels as it’s supposed to again.

And it hurts, because it always hurts, because he’s too thick and you’re never prepped enough, never patient enough, core split open on his cock and little hole aching as it attempts to adjust to him, but it’s so fucking perfect, too. Your cunt spasms around him, hips twitching a little in desperation—like you’re trying to suck him in further, like you’re trying to bury him deeper—and he groans, fingers flexing as he holds you still, nails gorging on your flesh.

“Eager, are we?”

“S’not my fault,” you mewl, back arching a little as you attempt to push your hips back, squirming a bit in his strong grip. “Need you, Daddy.”

“Is that so?”

Grasp tightening, his hips thrust up, grinding the head of his cock into your cervix in slow, hard motions—back and forth, back and forth, inspiring a dull pang throbbing in your gut.

Gasping sharply, your hips jerk back in response, automatic and instinctual, pulling a hoarse groan from his chest.

His clutch turns to near bone crushing, a fractured little cry sticking in your throat, and he forces you to hold still for a moment, muscles in his thighs gone rigid and stiff as his hips press up further and tug you down, frozen, revelling in the way your cunt pulses around him, as if it’s whining for him.

“M-Mikey,” you echo its sentiments, his name a sulky plead on your tongue, brows knit together and lips jutted in a pout.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“You know,” you huff out, wriggling a little in his palms, feebly trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Tell me anyway,” he demands.

Scalding embarrassment pricks your cheeks and you whimper, fidgeting in his grasp again, head shaking in defiance.

“Come on,” he chides, but there are notes of amusement infusing his tone. “Daddy can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask for it.”

Sharp teeth sink into your shoulder suddenly, your half-formed response strangled by a gasp, Mikey’s jaw tensing as he burrows his teeth further into your flesh, piercing through tissues and snapping capillaries until copper explodes in his mouth.

He holds it for a moment, all thirty-two of his teeth latched in your skin, ensuring he leaves a full, detailed outline of his mouth etched into you—a signature of sorts—before his tongue flattens against the wound, dragging over it in a single wide lick and sealing it with blood-tinged saliva. A gentle exhale wafts over the bite, cool against the searing pain, and you shudder, chills erupting across your flesh.

“You’re a big girl,” he coaxes over your whimpering, the encouragement steeped in condescension. “I know you can do it. Use your big girl words and tell Daddy what you want.”

Your eyes squeeze shut against the burn of humiliation, lids crinkling at the corners, the softest hiccup catching in your throat, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

“I—I wanna ride your cock, Daddy,” you push the stubborn words from your tongue, trembling and breathy.

“Yeah?” he asks, bloodied tongue tracing along the shell of your ear. “How bad?”

“So bad,” you bleat out, striving to bounce on his cock under the firm restraint of his hands, dewdrops of annoyance clinging to your lashes, glittering in the beams of magenta and teal as you blink rapidly.

“Hm,” he muses to himself, nonchalant as he readjusts his grip, hands constringing, completely halting your pathetic little movements. “It doesn’t seem like you want it all that badly.”

“Daddy,” the word leaves your lips in a whine, scrunched and petulant through your pout, body thrashing beneath his strong grip. “Come on—”

“Are you sure you wanna be such a naughty little whore in front of all of these people?”

Your body stops its writhing, his words like a slap to the face.

It’s a bit of a shock, to hear it spoken aloud so bluntly, cut and dry and honest, and it sends a torrent of sparks fizzing through your chest to collect dense and tight in your tummy.

Shame and revulsion sets your skin aflame, the cinders in your gut flaring in response, an intoxicating combination.

“Yes—”

“Huh? What was that?” he shouts theatrically in your ear. “I couldn’t really hear you over the music.”

“Y-Yes,” you repeat, trying to steady your hiccuping voice, to be stern and resolute, even as tears begin to stream down your cheeks.

“Really?” he breathes, and he sounds astonished, he sounds appalled. “You’re so fucking sleazy, baby. I wonder what all these people would think, if they knew how truly filthy my little girl is...”

“Manjirou,” you weep out his birth name, whole face saturated in frustration.

“Oh-ho-ho,” he chuckles out the word, and it’s vicious. “Graduated to using my full name, now, have you?” he licks at the steadily oozing bite, mopping up more blood with his tongue. “Christ, you do really want it.”

“I do!” you cry out, struggling against his grasp again, hips bucking in wild, erratic motions. “I do, I do, please, let me ride your cock, please.”

“What if I made you sit, still and straight like the good little girl I know you want to be, on my hard cock for the rest of the night? Do you think you’d be able to handle it?”

You know he won’t, know he’d never be able to, because he’s just as addicted to you as you are to him, just as desperate, just as eager, just as needy; because even as he holds you motionless, he can’t quite halt the delicate jerk of his hips, rolling up into your core; because you know he wants this just as badly as you do, gets off on the depravity just as much as you do.

Even so, the mere thought of being teased like this, of being forced to hold such a degrading position, is still enough to inspire a rush of agitated tears to flood your eyes, vision gone bleary with despairing desire and rendering the club a bleary haze of glowing neons.

“No, Daddy, no, I—I just want to ride you, please, Daddy, I c-can’t—”

You’re nearly wailing now, head thrown back dramatically as your neck twists into an uncomfortable knot, anguished as you try to bury your face in his throat, looking for solace. Your chest stutters as you stammer out half-finished pleads, gone garbled with spit, and Mikey smiles.

You’re starting to cause a scene.

It’s exactly what he wanted.

“Okay, baby, okay, okay,” he’s pacifying as he feels hot tears soak into his neck, a choked sob catching painfully in your chest. “Daddy’s here, Daddy’s gonna make it all better.”

And finally, finally his grasp loosens, stiff fingers gone lax, massaging lopsided circles into the rapidly developing bruises left in the shape of their prints.

“Go ahead, angel,” he urges, nuzzling into the junction of your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to the congealing bite. “Ride Daddy’s cock.”

Then he’s slumping back, settling into the couch cushions and spreading his thighs a little wider, pressing the soles of his boots into the waxed floor for stability and leverage.

His hands stay on your waist, a gentle guidance, but he allows you to set the pace—a rare occurrence—patient as your hips work up a steady rhythm of quick, shallow gyrations, each swivel dragging his cock against your favourite spot.

And God, you’re so cute when you use his cock to make yourself feel good. It’s a shame that he can’t see your face in this position, can’t see the way your lashes flutter and frame the rolling whites of your eyes or the way your features scrunch so delicately; a shame he can’t hear your gorgeous noises, all your sweet little gasps and pitiful little whines consumed by the blaring music.

But he can see how your back is bowing, spine forced into a near perfect arc by your building pleasure, bending just a hint more with each brush of his cock; he can feel your palms clutching his knees, nails digging little crescents into his shins and using them for support as your movements accelerate, as you fuck yourself harder, faster, better.

And he lets you have your fun for a little, lays back all languid and lazy and watches through lidded eyes as you play with yourself and use his cock like it’s your favourite toy—because, well, it is—but eventually it just isn’t enough and you need Daddy’s help.

Just like he knew it wouldn’t be. Just like you always do.

Not that he minds one bit.

Yes, it isn’t enough, because it never is, because you can never manage anything more than teasing yourself when left entirely to your own devices, spritzing kerosene on the dull smouldering in the pit of your stomach as the head of his cock brushes up against that engorged spot inside of you, not nearly hard enough or fast enough to have you anywhere close to creaming on him, merely enough to have your clit throbbing, swollen and neglected.

He knows you’re beginning to get restless when your hips turn sloppy, tempo starting to falter as your motions stutter, and then you’re looking over your shoulder at him with a beseeching pout, glazed eyes begging him to do something!

So he does.

He’s straightening up in a split second, hands around your waist tightening as he yanks you back toward his chest, chin hooking over your clavicle again and grinding the sharp bone into your skin.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs against your jaw, mocking and mean. “Can’t even get herself off without her Daddy’s help.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” you wail over the roar of EDM, head shaking in accentuation. “Need you, need you to do it for me.”

“Of course you do, angel,” he says, as if it’s obvious, as if it’s common knowledge. “But that’s okay—Daddy will make it feel good.”

That’s the only warning you’re given before his hips are ramming up, rapid and rough and downright ruthless, the abrupt motion slamming a high-pitched yelp from your throat, so pure and genuine and full of lust that it rises above the music, breaks through the heavy bass beat, gathering a handful of glances from a few nearby party-goers.

So much for being inconspicuous.

You should’ve known that that just isn’t Mikey’s style.

They lose interest just as quickly as they gained it, though, going back to their drinks and their drugs, unconcerned. What the Boss does at his own club is none of their business, even if it is on display for the whole venue to see.

Still, it’s enough for Mikey.

“Everyone can see you, you know,” voracious black eyes scan the balcony space. “Everyone can see you being such a good little whore for your Daddy.”

The thought of being watched, of being caught, inspires a whole flock of butterflies to flit around in your tummy, another surge of heat gushing between your thighs, and Mikey laughs. Oh, he felt that.

Because he’s right; if anyone dared to look a little closer, a little longer, cared to paid a smidge of more attention to the two of you, hidden on one of the velvet couches wedged in the corner of the VIP section with your hips rocking and Mikey’s hands buried in the lace and tulle of your skirt, they’d know exactly what the two of you are doing.

But it doesn’t matter; you don’t care. Neither does he. Why should either of you?

“Do you—Do you think they like it?” you question, and Christ, it’s so precious, that pathetic hope ringing high and clear in your voice. “Do you think they like watching me bounce on their Boss’s cock?”

“Fuck,” the curse fragments in his throat, sharp and pitchy, and he coughs on the shards. “I know they do, sweetheart.”

“Do you think they’re g-gonna go home and touch themselves to the thought of me—of us?”

“Aw,” Mikey coos out in a chuckle, breathless and condescending. “It’s cute that you think they aren’t already jerking off to you on a regular basis.”

Of course they are, you silly little stupid thing; how could they not be? With all the sweet, short little dresses he buys you to prance and twirl around in—the ones with the sweetheart necklines that dip just a hint too low, teasing the swell of your breasts with each of your gentle inhales; the ones with the rippling hems that end just a touch too high, swishing and swaying and flashing with each of your movements, riding up and fanning out to gift them with teasing little glimpses of the lace and satin underneath.

“You think I don’t know what my—ah, Christ—what my men think of you? How my men think of you?” He tongues a little at the bite, using his front teeth to scrape off a few half-formed scabs, blood rushing to pool in their place. “You think I don’t see the way they look at you?”

A whine stammers in your throat, your back arching a little more as your cunt quivers around his cock, that drove of butterflies sending your stomach swooping, the organ tensing, tying itself into thick knots pulled tight and taut with each plunge of his cock.

Mikey laughs again, the sound nothing more than a deep, dense vibration rumbling within his ribs, seeping into your back and sending tingles up your spine.

“Would you like to see the way they look at you?”

“H-Huh?”

Oh, how adorably fucked out you already are, mind gone dumb and numb to everything but him, but his voice and his touch and his steadily driving cock; oh, how adorably easy it is to make you this fucking idiotic.

“Look over there,” he presses his cheek into yours, forcing your head to turn and follow his gaze.

Across the club, Rindou sits with an elbow resting on the edge of the bar, a glass dangling from his fingertips. His eyes are cavernous, carnivorous, a smirk smearing across his face as your stare meets his, heavy lids framing a leering look.

Using a shoulder, he nudges his brother’s stomach, jutting his chin toward you and his Boss in indication when Ran looks down in question, redirecting his attention.

Now they’re both watching you, with doped up violet eyes and identical sleazy smiles, toothless and worming.

It makes you want to scrub and scratch at your skin, their gazes painting you in a thick coat of grime, body soiled by their lust and left feeling dirty, feeling gross, a strong shiver crawling across your flesh.

Your head jerks reflexively, desperate to hide from their lechery, skull knocking against Mikey’s hard enough to send thorns of pain searing through your temple.

A yelp cracks in your throat, and Mikey snorts, seemingly unfazed.

“Aw,” Mikey tuts in false admonishment. “Don’t get shy now. Look at them. Look at them while you ride my cock.”

“M-Mikey—” your eyes shut tightly, a pitiful attempt to escape their invasive eyes, head shaking in little judders.

“C’mon,” he goads, forcing you to face their stare. “You want them all to see, right? How good my little girl is? How pretty my little girl is?”

Peeking through your lashes, you squint at the Haitanis, features teetering on the verge of a wince, as if you’re expecting them to physically strike you.

They’re still looking at you, wide and unblinking, speaking out of the side of their mouths in laughs and murmurs to one another.

Dressed in matching pin-striped suits and thick suspenders, Rindou has discarded his jacket, shirtsleeves rolled haphazardly up his forearms to his elbows, first few buttons of his shirt popped undone, revealing a defined collarbone.

Predictably, Ran is still the perfect picture of poise and elegance, not a single hair out of place, suit jacket square on his shoulders and flawlessly tailored to his body, each stitch outlining his edges.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee respectively, and just as treacherous.

Whatever it is they’re saying to each other, they’re clearly enjoying themselves, amusement playing in glassy irises as Ran rests a hand around Rindou’s neck, slim fingers pressing into plush muscle. His younger brother instantly relaxes into his touch, mollifying back against his stomach and hooking an arm around his thigh, hugging it to his ribs.

And it’s the way they’re looking at you, as if they’re peeling the clothes from your body and the skin from your bones and peering into the depths of your soul to dance with your demons and devour your secrets; as if they’re singeing your expression into their minds, the sight of your features saturated in perturbation and pleasure branded into the tissues of their brains, carved into the walls of their skulls, ensuring they’ll never forget.

Everything feels overexposed as they pry you apart bit by bit, heady mix of hedonism and humiliation hazing over your brain.

Mikey’s hips slow to a drag, thighs tensing and soles of his boots skidding across marble as he expertly angles his hips and presses up, rubbing the head of his cock over your g-spot in slow, controlled motions—back and forth, back and forth, over and over and over again.

And the moan that claws at your throat is almost obnoxious, is definitely embarrassing, which means Mikey needs to fuck at least three more from your chest, grunting a little with the effort as his cockhead jabs against that plush spot, hard and precise.

A whine that sounds suspiciously like his title, tangled in spit and weighted with shame, spills from your lips, and you nestle your face against his own even as your hips jolt, desperate for comfort, desperate for cover.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he nuzzles your damp cheek. “I know you do. I can feel it.”

It’s true, he can—you’re sure he can, with the way your straining little hole keeps pulsing around his length, another stream of heat cascading down his shaft, viscous and wet and so, so much, to pool in the folds of his balls, to stain the waistband of his pants and the velvet of the couch.

But you know he likes it just as much as you do.

Because you’re both so fucking naughty, so fucking nasty, but the depravity just works to heighten it all, makes it that much better, amplifying every touch and brush and tease and fondle and making it all feel so fucking good, even as Mikey’s pace eases into something unhurried, his thrusts turned languid but powerful.

So you join in, you rise to his challenge, a sick little game the two of you play, a sick little game you force others to participate in—because you’re fucking untouchable.

“Do you think their cocks are hard, Daddy?” you ask, the question dripping with syrup as you roll your hips backwards, slow and purposeful, returning the Haitanis’ smouldering stare through fanned lashes, unblinking and tenacious.

“Ah, f-fuck,” Mikey’s cock jolts, rhythm stammering for a moment before he regains his composure. “Yeah, baby, I bet they’re wishing they were me right now.”

You bet they are, too, mouths stopped moving and gazes gleaming with want, lips parted with uneven exhales pushed from their heaving chests, entirely enchanted by your movements.

It’s the most affected and authentic you’ve ever seen them before, and it sends a thrill of power shooting through your body, blood left fizzing in its wake.

One of them reaches into their pocket, groping around blindly for their phone, not daring to spare a second of their attention away from you, and Mikey snarls, nose scrunched in disgust and lip curled in a sneer, baring gritted teeth.

Because that’s too much, that’s crossing a line, and Mikey swiftly redirects your face, effectively hiding your expression from the Haitanis’ hungry eyes.

Mikey’s always liked to show off. Mikey’s never liked to share.

He swaps shoulders quickly, the defined hinges of his jaw clasped firmly over your collarbone, and smushes his face flush to yours again, skin clammy with sweat.

“And look over there,” he steers your gaze toward the other side of the club, where Kokonoi sits with a smattering of men surrounding a tall cocktail table, littered with crystal glasses and white lines.

The men around the table are laughing about something, sloshing liquor and cutting powder into thick, fat stripes, but Kokonoi isn’t paying attention to any of it.

No. Kokonoi is looking at you.

His eyes snap away when they meet your own, head whipping forward with such speed and such force it’s a marvel he doesn’t instantly give himself whiplash. A deep laugh rumbles in Mikey’s throat in response, something dark, something decadent.

“He’s gonna go home and touch himself to you, too,” he says. “He might not even make it before he goes home; might end up jerking his cock in a bathroom stall or the front seat of his car.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, look at him,” Mikey snorts. “He’s so hard he’s about to burst outta his pants.”

Following the line of Kokonoi’s body, your gaze travels downward, to the straining lump in his white pants. His hips shift a little uncomfortably as his thighs tense, hands curled into fists on his knees as he steadily trains his stare forward at the wall opposite of him, throat bobbing with a thick swallow.

Mikey’s right—Koko’s about to burst.

The thought of Koko rushing to his car to collapse in the driver’s seat, head tipped back against the headrest and hand shoved down his pants as his palm rubs frantically at his hard cock, or hastening to the washroom to lock himself in a stall, forehead pressed tightly to the rickety door and panting out stuttered, half-stifled whimpers hotly against his upper lip as he hurriedly relieves the problem you’ve created, is almost too much to bear, stomach clenching in time with the throbbing of your cunt, a torrid pressure building and burning in your gut.

The sudden acceleration of Mikey’s thrusts snaps you out of that tangle of thoughts, effectively drawing every ounce of your attention back to him.

A mewl pries past your lips, sharp and high and cracking at the end, whole spine arching as Mikey resumes his assault on your favourite spot, cockhead driving hard and fast against plush flesh.

“They can look all they want, but you’re mine.” His fingers tighten, his grasp rigid and unbreakable, the words nothing more than a snarl spit in your ear, wet and harsh. “I won’t fuckin’ share.”

“Never, never, never,” you babble in time with the bouncing on his lap, head nodding in sloppy motions with each repetition of the word.

“Never,” he growls, teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sloppily, excess spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth as he breaks the skin for the second time tonight and sucks hard, drawing blood from the string of tiny wounds.

It has another cry escaping your throat, whole face crinkling in a sordid mixture of pleasure and pain, head instinctually thrown back against your Daddy, automatically giving him more room to work. Drops of watered down blood drool down your back and Mikey takes a moment to admire them, mesmerised by the way they shimmer in the strobing lights of the club, before he licks at them with the tip of his tongue, leaving crude strokes of fresh spit in their wake.

He’s the motherfucking Boss.

And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always.

He’s really fucking you now, vicious and vigorous, your entire body juddering in his lap as his hips piston up, cockhead pounding against that sensitive mound of tissue buried deep within you.

Each thrust shoves another shattered sound from your tongue, splintered moans of his name and his title pouring past your lips in a jagged stream.

The knot your stomach has twisted itself into strains under the building pressure, growing heavier and heavier with each jackhammer into you, stretched taut and stiff and ready to snap.

It’s all so much, the ogling eyes and the ramming of his cock and the tightening in your belly, every muscle in your body coiled and aching for the ecstasy that comes with release. Your breath mangles with the mewls shoved from your lips with every slam up, sticking to your throat and you cough, wheezing past the splinters. It’s all too much, and—!

“M’gonna, m’gonna cum, Daddy!” you gasp, tears dotting the corners of your eyes, sparkling in spidery lashes.

“Yeah, baby?” he breathes, voice dropping to a ragged rasp. “You gonna cream all over Daddy’s cock? Huh? Make a mess on my cock surrounded by all of Daddy’s closest and most esteemed colleagues?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you nearly sob out, palms curling over his wrists, nails clawing at the delicate skin, desperate for an anchor.

“My dirty fucking girl,” he hisses out, sharp breath stinging your cheek. “Such a good—Ah—good little slut for me, aren’t you?”

You can no longer respond, rendered stupid from the ardor, potent pleasure corroding your brain and gnawing through your synapses. It’s downright intoxicating, it’s fucking insatiable, it’s simultaneously immense and insufficient, way too much yet not nearly enough, because you need more, you need more, unintelligible pleads shattering on your tongue.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, baby, gush all over Daddy, make a pretty mess on his lap for him. Show everyone in this Goddamn club how gorgeous you look cumming for me.”

And so you do, ever your Daddy’s best girl, body eager to obey its owner as your cunt convulses around him, copious amounts of slick cascading down his shaft to drench his thighs, sticky and sharp and so fucking sick as he continues to bounce you in his lap.

The spasming of your cute little hole draws the sweetest whine from the back of his throat, panted out against the curve of your ear, and another bout of warmth rushes to the apex of your thighs, earning you a shuddered little curse, the exhale sweltering against your sweaty skin.

You sound so pretty right before you cum, Daddy.

Three more pumps of his hips and he’s following, thrusts stuttering as he fucks up messily into you, cock throbbing almost violently and stuffing you to the brim with thick, hot cum. Strong hands hold you firmly in place, cockhead pressed flush to your cervix as he spills himself into you, as he forces you to take every fucking ounce of what he’s giving you.

And you love it, you love it, you love it, you’re telling him, sentiments pouring from your mouth in a jumbled stream, singular and continuous until your lungs run out of air, voice cutting off with a squeak.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Mikey’s murmuring into your skin in response, lips leaving smears of sugary saliva just below your earlobe.

He allows you to sit on him for a moment, chest heaving against your back with ragged breaths, sweaty forehead pressed tightly to your shoulder. Tilting your head, your rest your cheek on the back of his skull, eyes slipping shut as your own heart begins to calm, cunt still pulsating irregularly around his shaft, almost as if it’s attempting to squeeze a few more drops out of him, his cock acting as a crude plug, keeping most of his cum buried inside of you.

Finally, his head lifts, pressing a tender kiss to the blood-encrusted bite glittering on your shoulder.

“Go get cleaned up in the washroom,” he mutters gently, pressing another string of kisses along your jaw. “Don’t wipe away any of Daddy’s cum; let it soak into your panties real nice and good, let them get really wet, and then snap a few pictures and send them to me. Can you do that for me, angel?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you slur out, nodding in loose, liquid movements.

“Good,” he pats your thigh twice. “Now, go.”

A small noise of affirmation sounds in your throat, head still nodding as Mikey helps you stand between his spread thighs, hands on your waist keeping you upright while you wobble on unsteady legs.

And the noise that you make as his cum and your slick surges out of you—something caught somewhere between a mewl and a whine, turned on and disappointed simultaneously—is the cutest thing he’s ever heard, a muted coo slipping from his own lips as your hands wrap around his, using them to further stable yourself.

He holds you for a moment or two longer, making sure you’re sturdy and your knees won’t suddenly give out, before giving you one final squeeze and releasing you, smirking a little as he watches you teeter away on rickety feet.

Initially, his plan was to have you capture a few naughty photos for him—pretty little things to stash away in his phone for later use, during the nights he’s forced to spend away from you, sitting in expensive cars or laying in lush hotel beds—and force you to wear the gluey, cum-drenched undies for the remainder of the party.

But then his phone is buzzing, and he’s unlocking it to find your cunt perfectly outlined by thin silk as it sticks to your folds, little clit and hole contoured and accentuated by the slick, shining fabric, soiled by a large, irregular patch of wetness, and oh, there’s no way he’ll be able to wait until you arrive home to fuck you again.

No, he needs to fuck you now, a sudden burst of adrenaline buzzing through his veins, little sparks and minuscule explosions that have him up and moving in under a second, cock already beginning to fill with life again.

Sheer, potent power permeates the atmosphere around him, trembling off his body in sharp bolts; dense, heavy, cracking with electricity.

The way the crowd instantly parts for him is awe-inspiring, their gleaming eyes full of terror and worship, hastily tripping over their own toes and ankles to move from his path as he strides toward the washroom, desperate to not be stung by his brilliance, desperate to get as close to the currents as possible without being scathed.

You’re just exiting the restroom by the time he reaches you, breath punched from your lungs as he backs you into a tiled corner, trapped between the cold wall and his scorching form, his hands splayed wide on either side of your shoulders.

“We gotta go,” he’s nearly panting out as he shoves his forehead against yours, eyes closed and noses nudging, straining cock grinding unceremoniously into your hip. “We gotta go, now.”

And, well, Daddy always gets what Daddy wants.

#mikey sano x reader #mikey sano smut #mikey x reader #mikey smut #bonten mikey smut #bonten mikey x reader #bonten x reader #bonten mikey x you #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro smut #mikey x you #bonten smut #tokyo revengers smut #SORRY ITS SO LATE HAHA PLS ENJOYYY #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you

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exhaslo · 6 months

Text

Kinktober Day 31- Ghost face!Miguel x Shy!Reader

*Requested by the many fans of tumblr. Happy Halloween!*

Everyone had warned you about moving to Nueva York. The amount of dangerous people in that city were overwhelming. You were going to be eaten alive as your friends and family warned. You thought of yourself better and wanted to prove to them that you could survive. The shy and quiet you, who barely had to courage to say no. It was something you always struggled with, but you hoped that this new job would help you with it.

You were hired at Alchemax as a lab assistant. You tried to fit in, but everyone was so self centered that you ended up being a loner. Everyone except one person. Miguel O'Hara. He had extended the hand of friendship to you, wanting to make you feel more comfortable around the place. You instantly fell for him. He was so kind to you and understanding. You had just wished that everyone was like him. You had wished you had the courage to ask him out.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked as he tried to grab your attention. You flinched out of your daydream,

"Y-Yeah, sorry. I've been...tired lately."

"I've noticed that you've been taking on other people's work. You need to learn to say no," Miguel told you before typing away on his computer. You could only nod,

"I...know...I've also had trouble sleeping...N-News of that...Ghostface going around killing people has me spooked." Miguel glanced you way, handing you a bottle of water, "T-Thanks."

"You'll be okay, tomorrow's Halloween, that's the last day he goes out. Just stay home, okay?" You let out a small whimper, hesitating. "You are staying home, right?" Miguel asked, stopping his work. Tears almost fell from your eyes,

"I-I got...I was told to join some of the others...a-at a small...work...party," Miguel saw you shaking, "I-I...I couldn't say no..."

"Sí, ¿qué voy a hacer contigo? Mi pobre muñeca inocente. (Aye, what am I to do with you? My poor innocent doll.)" Miguel whispered, knowing that you knew nothing of Spanish. He took you hand, calming you down, "Don't worry, you'll be okay."

You looked into Miguel's eyes, smiling softly as you calmed down. After wiping your tears away, you thanked him quietly before hurrying off to go back to work. Miguel watched you scurry off. He growled lowly as he walked to his trash. That invitation was in there somewhere. Your coworkers didn't care about you to invite you to some Halloween party. They had other plans, and now Miguel did too. Finding the paper, Miguel's eyes shined brighter than normal.

"Tendré que matar a todos y hacerme el héroe, sólo para ti, mi preciosa querida. (I'll just have to kill everyone and play the hero, just for you my precious darling)"

-------------

You stood in the corner of the small party, watching all of your coworkers enjoying themselves. You glanced down at your costume, wondering if it was too weird. Everyone else was dressed up in slutty and revealing outfits and here you were, with the costume you thought looked the cutest. You sighed sadly, wondering why you were even here. No one was talking to you. You were just there. Another sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the upstairs bathroom.

As you washed up, you heard faint screaming. You gasped and shut the light off, your heart beating faster. Loud thumps echoed from the staircase, causing you to whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the loud thumping stopped right in front of the bathroom door. You hurried into the tub, holding yourself as you shook. This was not how you wanted to die. You cried as the door slammed open,

"BOO!"

"KYAAA!" You screamed, covering your ears. You heard loud laughter and raised your head to your coworkers,

"Ah man! Did you get that on video!?" One of them yelled.

You stormed out of the bathroom, sobbing past everyone as they laughed at you. You made your way to the backyard since the front entrance was blocked off. You sat on the steps, crying your eyes out. They only invited you to make fun of you since you were so scared of Ghostface. You were just a quiet coworker, what did you do to deserve this? Upon hearing another scream, you whimpered in response. Were they trying to scare you again?

"I'll just stay here for a bit. They have to unblock the door soon," You whispered.

----------

Miguel had watched the whole thing. His anger had reached a new boiling point. Fixing his mask, Miguel's grip on his knife tighten as he made his way inside. He was the one who blocked the door. Standing in the corner, Miguel watched you ran outside crying. Perfect. He was going to start with the stragglers downstairs. It was a big house and not too many people. The job needed to get new employees anyway. These guys were just dead weight.

Miguel approached each person a little louder than he wanted. He was so fueled with anger that he couldn't focus. He just wanted everyone to pay for what they did. After his first kill, Miguel inhaled deeply. The smell of metallic blood filling his nostrils. He was not going to get now. He had taken out his anger during this month. It was the only time he could. Slowly making his way over to his next victim, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he thought of you.

You were going to be his perfect little wife. Miguel was going to make sure you stay in the dark about his secret. He just wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you protected and loved. When you first arrived at Alchemax, Miguel thought he saw an angel. A shy little angel who entered his life just for him. Miguel had hunted every single asshole who dared tried to flirt with you, or even scared you. Miguel was going to be your dark protector.

"AHHHHHH!"

There it was. The first scream of the night and not from a scare, but because of the dead bodies that laid under Miguel. Smiling through the mask, Miguel watched the girl run to warn the others. Ah yes, that was the start. Miguel inhaled deeply, getting enjoyment from true horror. He was going to enjoy his last few kills of the night. It was going to be another year until Miguel could kill again.

----------

After calming down, you decided to leave. You rubbed your eyes once more before entering the house. It was quiet aside from the sound of thumping from upstairs. They were probably enjoying themselves. Honestly, you were mad at your cruel coworkers. You stopped at the front door, seeing that it was still blocked. Why were they doing this to you? The couch was far too heavy for you to move on your own. Looking for another way out, you gasped as you stepped in something.

"My shoe," You whimpered, looking at the red puddle.

Following the puddle, you gasped sharply as you saw one of you coworkers dead. Your heart started to race again as screams came from upstairs. You hurried to the kitchen, wondering if there was a door there and froze as another dead body laid before you. This was bad. Ghostface was here and he was killing everyone. Tears began to roll down your cheeks again as you hurried to find somewhere to escape. Maybe there was a gate in the backyard?

"Please! Don't kill me!" One of your coworkers screamed as another ran down the stairs,

"(Y/N)?! You're still here?!" He yelled and gasped as Ghostface started to walk down the stairs, "Fuck it, I ain't dying here!"

You yelped as your coworker grabbed you harshly and threw you in front of the staircase. You eyes widen as you nearly froze in fear as Ghostface stood directly before you. You couldn't move. His knife was stained with blood. You shook and closed your eyes, crying as you waited for the worst.

"No! Stay back!"

You shuddered a gasp as you heard Ghostface leave to your coworker first. Quickly, you found a closet and hid in there until it was safe. You were frighten and scared. Covering your ears, you tried to stay quiet as you waited. Waited for Ghostface to leave.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" That voice. You knew it all too well.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" You cried out.

----------

Miguel whispered some cusses towards your coworkers as he stabbed him. Now that everyone was dead, it was time for you. He knew that you ran to the living room, but where were you hiding? He stopped to clean his knife in the kitchen sink, washing all the blood off. Once that was done, he attached the knife to his thigh strap under his pants. He then took his mask off, putting it inside one of his cloak pockets that was big enough.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" He called out, wanting to bring you out of hiding.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" Those cries weren't meant for you.

"It's okay, I'm here now. I saw Ghostface head upstairs, quickly close your eyes and come out. I'll get you out of here."

You were such a good girl for him. You crawled out of the closet with your eyes closed, your breathing still heavy. Miguel just smiled towards your shaken form, knowing that you were going to be in his arms in a second. With ease, he picked you up, holding you close. He could feel your heart beat. You were sobbing and holding onto him for dear life. You had no reason to cry now. Miguel was going to take care of you.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," Miguel whispered as he stroked your head. You just cried into his shoulder,

"M-Miguel, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You have nothing to apologize for. I'll take good care of you,"

"T-They're all dead. I-I thought...I was next...Miguel...I love you. I love you. I'm sorry, I'm a scaredy cat and shy and nervous...I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner," You kept babbling, crying your heart out since you thought you were going to die.

"Dios mío, no me esperaba esto. Voy a follarte bien esta noche para que te olvides de todo esto. (My god, I wasn't expecting this. I'm going to fuck you go good tonight that you're going to forget all about this.)" He groaned lowly.

"M-Miguel?"

"It's okay, (Y/n), I love you too. I'll take good care of you."

-----------

You sniffled as you stepped out of Miguel's shower, rubbing your arms as you wore some of his spare clothes. Miguel was kind enough to take you to his home, wanting to comfort you for the night. You were nervous as you stepped into his living room. It was quiet. Miguel was taking a shower in his other bathroom. Who would have thought that Miguel was rich? You explored his place, still surprised by the turn of events.

You ended up in the kitchen, noticing a knife in the sink. It looked so much like the knife Ghostface had. Shaking the thought out of your head, you made your way back to the living room. You wanted to forget about what happened tonight. You tried to at least. You knew you were going to have trouble sleeping again. Tomorrow was going to be harsher because everyone was going to be asking about the others. Asking why you were the only one left alive.

"W-What if they think I killed them?" You stuttered at the thought. Miguel approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist,

"Then they would be fools," He kissed the back of your neck.

You shuddered at the affection Miguel gave you. Turning around, you pulled him into a tight hug. Miguel chuckled as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. Your cheeks burned up as he placed you on his bed. Miguel stroked your cheek, calming you down again. His smile instantly making you fold for him.

"Do you trust me?" Miguel asked you as he slowly climbed over you. You just nodded, "Good, there's something you need to know,"

You whimpered as Miguel kissed your neck. His hands stroked your sides under the shirt you wore. He let out a low groan since you looked so good in his clothes. You let out a breathless moan as he cupped you breasts. Miguel was going to wait until you were completely in his grasp before telling you. After all, you couldn't say no. You were going to be his good girl forever.

"M-Miguel?" You whined softly as he took your shirt off, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples.

"You're not going back to work," Miguel whispered as he started to grind his bulge against your cunt, "You're going to stay here. Make it look like you died with the others."

"W-What?!" You asked, but flung your head back as Miguel sucked on your breasts.

You moaned softly as Miguel spread you legs, allowing him to rut into you rougher. You felt yourself getting wetter. The boxers he let you wear were too thin and easy for him to grind against. You tried to ask him what he meant, but you were being overwhelmed with pleasure. Miguel's hands were now resting against the boxers, rubbing your clit against the fabric. You body leaned into his touch, desperate for more. His tongue swirled around your nipple, making his way back up to your neck.

"You're going to stay here, baby." He whispered again, his fingers dipping under the boxers and circling your clit, "My beautiful angel. I can't let anyone have you. I can't let anyone harm you. You were always mine."

"Mhm~ M-Miguel~"

"(Y/N), don't be afraid of me. I will never harm you." Miguel watched as you bit you lower lip, moving your hips with his hand, "Así es. Déjame convertirte en la esposa perfecta. Déjame manchar tu hermosa inocencia. (That's right. Let me fuck you into the perfect wife. Let me taint your beautiful innocence." He groaned lowly.

You whimpered a moan as you felt a knot tighten inside you. Miguel moved his fingers faster against your clit, causing that knot to tighten. You tried to rub your legs together, but Miguel kept them spread. He sucked against your neck, groaning as you cam from just him playing with your clit. His fingers dipped lower, two digits entering your tight, soaked cunt. You moaned again, your cunt squeezing his fingers as he pumped inside you.

"Ah, my sweet innocent little angel. Watching you break because of me is so delicious." Miguel groaned as you squirmed and moved your hips to his touch, "You're going to stay here. I'll make sure no one will ever hurt you again, understood?"

"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out as his fingers feverishly fucked your tight gummy walls.

You whined as Miguel raised your legs over his shoulders. Your pussy clenched his fingers as he started to curl against your sweet spot. You flung your head back as he started to wiggle his fingers inside you. His thumb rubbed against your clit again, bringing you over to the edge. Miguel wasn't making any sense, but his words were making you wetter. Honestly, with how tonight went, you wouldn't mind being stuck in Miguel's home forever. He was your protector.

"M-MIG-" You screamed out as you reached another orgasm. Miguel pulled his fingers out, licking them,

"You even taste sweet," He hummed, holding his erection towards your twitching folds, "You have no idea the amount of men I had to get rid of to make sure you stayed innocent, just for me. Seré tu primero en todo... y tu último. (I will be your first for everything...and your last.)" He groaned.

You whimpered as you felt Miguel's dick stretch you out painfully. His cock was so thick and long. Your pussy was convulsing around him, sucking him in while drool rolled down your lips. He was making you feel so full. You wanted to question him on what he meant by getting rid of people, but you started to get drunk off his cock. Another whimper escaped your lips as Miguel groaned, fitting his whole length inside you. You swore that he was pressing against your cervix, but you weren't sure. This was a first for you.

"Un ajuste perfecto. Fuiste hecho para mí, cariño. Voy a grabar la forma de mi polla en tu memoria. (A perfect fit. You were made for me, darling. I'm going to fuck the shape of my dick into your memory.)" He groaned, slowly pulling out of you, "Killing all those people made this worth it."

"H-Huh?"

You moaned loudly as Miguel thrusted his dick back inside you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. You cried out as Miguel started to bully your cunt, causing you to turn into putty under him. You could barely feel your legs as the slapping sounds between you grew louder. His dick forming a perfect space inside your pussy. You trembled as you started to reach another orgasm, unable to take the pleasure that he was filling you with.

"Look at you, so fucked out on my cock. How does it feel to get fucked by Ghostface, baby? Does my dick feel that good?" Miguel moaned as you tighten around him, "Yes, it does, doesn't it. Why else would you be squeezing me this tight?"

"H-Hah~ Ah~ Y-You're....ah~ mhpm...G-Ghost...f-face?" You whimpered lowly. Miguel fasten his pace, enjoying the white ring that formed around his dick,

"Yes. I'm the scary Ghostface that killed those asshole coworkers of ours," He chuckled, stopping to fill you with his seed, "I told you that you'd be okay. I will never, ever hurt you. Only love you."

You wanted to be scared. You truly did, but both your brain and your heart were only thinking about Miguel's dick pounding you still. His hot semen filling your womb as he kept fucking you dumb. You body twitched from overstimulation as Miguel started to rub your clit again. He leaned down to kiss you, biting you lower lip as you moaned for him. His grip tighten against your hips, rutting into you furiously. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were his.

"Awe? Tired already? I think I need to show you how many people I've killed for you. Here's the second victim." Miguel groaned as he cummed inside you again.

"Mhm~" You muffled lowly, growing exhausted. Miguel chuckled as he pulled you to his lap,

"Tienes razón cariño. Vas a ser la esposa de Ghostface. Siempre puedo mostrarte mi amor en cualquier momento. (You're right darling. You're going to be Ghostface's wife. I can always show you my love anytime.)

----------

When you woke up, Miguel was by your side with water, vitamins and breakfast. He had bathed you and put on a fresh pair of clothes. You recalled his confession from last night and grew slightly nervous. Miguel, the man you longed for, was the murderous Ghostface. He killed your coworkers and faked your death. You now belonged to Miguel. You wanted to be scared, but Miguel had proved to you that he was never going to hurt you.

Maybe it was your blind faith or actually being fucked dumb, but you willingly agreed to stay with Miguel. You stayed in his place as his house wife, greeting him with love everyday. Miguel rewarded your love with his brutal sex, reminding you that you belonged to him. By next Halloween, Miguel returned to his Ghostface persona, needing to release some steam. You became his accomplish, making sure that he returned home safe and sound.

"How was my good girl tonight?" Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into your soaked pussy. You whined into the bedsheets,

"D-Distracted t-the...ah~ police...s-sending em...mhm~ opposite side of...of....ah~ t-town~!" You cried out. Miguel groaned happily, harshly shoving his dick deeper into you to fill,

"That's my perfect angel. Well done."

"T-Thank you!" You moaned against him, shaking from the pleasure. Miguel hummed happily as he kept thrusting inside you,

"I think you deserve a reward. Why don't we try making a little Ghostface jr?"

"Yes! Yes!"

Your vision blurred as you moved in rhythm to Miguel's thrusts. Your mind started to fill with lust as you became tainted by Miguel. You were just as bad as him now, but you didn't care anymore. As long as Miguel was there to love you and protect you, you were okay. You moaned loudly as you cam against his dick, burying your head into the pillow again. You were happy with you life now. You were going to protect and live with Miguel forever.

Forever as Ghostface's wife.

#kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel

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httpsserene · 7 months

Text

kinktober '23 table of contents

welcome to serene's f1 kinktober special! i do not know how many posts i will be doing for this event, but, reblog and save this masterlist for any updates concerning my f1 kinktober.

posts will be tagged with: # httpss :// kinktober 23

view playlist? ↴

upload 1 : charles leclerc / max verstappen x reader | corruption kink

innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things.

upload 2 : carlos sainz jr x reader | were/wolf shifter & predator/prey

for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first.

upload 3 : oscar piastri x reader | car sex & squirting

your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren.

upload 4 : daniel ricciardo / max verstappen x reader | overstimulation

you can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. you understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. and then winter break comes around, and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind.

upload 5 : lewis hamilton x reader | tender sex & cockwarming

your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning.

upload 6 : george russell x reader | vampire & hickeys/biting

george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well.

upload 7 : pierre gasly x reader | witchcraft

witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work.

upload 8 : lando norris x reader | pussy worship

if lando achieved a podium at silverstone, you promised you’d give him anything he wants. he thinks about it the whole race weekend, and when the two of you are celebrating his second-place finish, he tells you that he wants to take care of you. you’re disbelieving–he takes care of you every waking hour. lando, on the other hand, said that with his chest. and he’ll prove it to you.

upload 9 : charles leclerc x reader | orgasm delay/denial

the 2023 season has had a despicable effect on charles’ self-worth. it pains you to see how he attributes ferrari’s failure to deliver to himself. you can’t stand to see him berate himself for things that are out of his control. when the emilia-romagna grand prix is understandably canceled, you start forming a plan. if charles doesn’t believe he’s as good as you say he is, you’ll make him internalize it–using any means necessary.

upload 10 : yuki tsunoda x reader | ab-riding/frottage

your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre.

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vanilladove · 3 months

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~ valentines with the bsd men!

divider creds plutism

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: various bsd men x gn!reader [dazai, atsushi, ranpo, fukuzawa, nikolai, fyodor, sigma, bram, chuuya, akutagawa, oda, ango, jouno, tecchou]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: fluffy headcanons (some crack hehe)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: none! i also imagine all of them wearing suits🙈

~武装探偵社 armed detective agency

dazai osamu

planned out your valentines day date at work (got yelled at by kunikida)

buys you a nice outfit to match his suit and styles his hair like how it was in the dead apple movie o////o

after dinner, you both go on a moonlit walk around yokohama and stop by the bridge overlooking the river dazai asks you to commit a double suicide

you mostly enjoy each other's company in silence, and dazai just admires you (secretly taking pictures of you under the moonlight)

he whispers sweet nothings into your ear and you find yourselves at the Lupin bar

you both drink too much and show too much pda, giggling through the taxi ride home

you're awaited by a bed covered in rose petals, lingerie/boxers and more sake...🤭

atsushi nakajima

SUCH A FREAKING SWEETHEART

definitely didn't sleep at all the night before bc he was nervous about preparations (i'd like to think you're his first partner :3)

called akutagawa for help but he's also just as single...

ends up making you glitter roses (there's glitter all over his dorm now) and a valentines box filled with your favorite things ♡

he definitely has a cute speech for you about why he fell in love with you and how much he cares for you (one/both of you ends up in tears lol)

you guys end the night with a movie + lots of cuddles!

ranpo edogawa

valentines day is his second favorite holiday after halloween bc of all the candy + sweet treats associated with it

buys enough chocolate and snacks to feed yokohama (most of it is just for his secret snack collection...)

organizes a small at-home date where you both make chocolate-covered strawberries + heart-shaped treats

tried to prepare a romantic speech but it ended up being a 'why you're lucky to have me' speech...

gives you those cheesy 'i love you' candies + candy necklaces

you both get insane sugar crashes and don't even make it to dinner or the special valentines book scene he made poe write for you😔

fukuzawa yukichi

secretly very romantic

he takes you on a private picnic in a sakura tree field (it's literally perfect); you have bentos, plum sake, and daifuku. the cherry blossoms fall peacefully over you two ♡

would write a sweet poem/haiku for you and gift you a lavish yukata

you reminisce about the cute moments in your relationship and stay until sunset

you surprise him by taking him to a cat cafe on the way home hehe

~天人五衰 decay of angels

nikolai gogol

thinks the traditional valentines day norms (chocolate, roses, and dinner) are boring

takes you to an amusement park (bonus if it's valentines-themed) instead

drags you with him on every ride--hopefully, you don't have motion sickness or a fear of heights

you eat so much fair food, and he never misses the chance to lick powdered sugar or cotton candy off your lips

takes you to the games section and laughs at your failed attempts. once you're frustrated enough, he wins even though the games are rigged and gets you a giant stuffed animal

you get matching face tattoos and braided hairstyles (he ends up doing it himself bc he's better than the employees lol)

on the ferris wheel, you both share an intimate kiss and he pulls out some roses (they end up being the clown ones though and splashing water all over your face :0)

fyodor dostoyevsky

asked you to be his valentine with one of those cheesy coding things (iykyk)

plans a romantic tea date for you both with lots of russian treats

composes a piece for you and plays it on his cello (forces nikolai and sigma to provide instrumental support in the background)

spends most of his time talking with you, since he's usually always busy

buys a matching ushanka for you, along with european chocolates, and your favorite flowers

you end up falling asleep in his arms reading together

sigma

this is probably his first valentines day ever so he spent a lot of time on social media to find out what people usually get for their partners

definitely uses the sky casino's amenities to put on an extravagant display for you--dancers/live music, a fancy bubble bath with rose petals + candles, couple's massage

has an intimate dinner with you in his office with the sunset in the background

he gifts you lego flowers that you end up building together and gets flustered if you gave him a gift, too♡

bram stoker

GOTHIC VALENTINES!!!!

takes you to his castle and prepares a fancy royal dinner for you

plays instrumental music from his radio but he didn't pay for spotify premium so you awkwardly listen to ads every few songs...😔

gives you pretty jewelry and black roses encased in glass (beauty in the beast style!)

takes you to the balcony and you both have an intimate night chat, which draws some rare smiles and chuckles from him

softly hugs and kisses you, grateful for your warmth and company will suck your blood if you let him

~ポートマフィアport mafia

chuuya nakahara

the definition of a romantic bf...pls

first of all, you wake up with those gigantic boxes of roses that celebs always get, accompanied by a sweet handwritten letter and a custom outfit for the day

he then picks you up in his helicopter and flies you to a vineyard where you make your own wine and drink one he secretly made for you when you both started dating

at the vineyard, a PRIVATE CHEF cooks a fancy 5-course meal for you both to enjoy, and chuuya insists on feeding you the first bite

expect a lot of heartfelt, drunken speeches and passionate french kisses out of nowhere...

on the ride home, chuuya almost crashes the helicopter bc he's so drunk, but his ability saves you both hehe

he ballroom dances with you until you both fall asleep in each other's arms🥹

akutagawa ryunosuke

like atsushi and sigma, this is his first valentines. he asks chuuya for advice but thinks all his suggestions are corny

he ends up settling on making you some red baked goods with gin's help and dark chocolate candies

writes you love letters since he's secretly embarrassed to tell you outright how he feels

takes you on a beach date and lends you his coat if you're cold (he's secretly colder than you after he dips his feet in the water)

you hold hands and talk for a bit under the moonlight until he musters up the confidence to give you his letters and gifts

your happy reaction is worth it and makes him blush ^o^ he hugs you for a long time after you point it out, partly in embarrassment and partly because he loves you so much

chuuya and gin interrogate him about the date after he comes back lol

oda sakunosuke

picks you up from work with flowers, handmade chocolates, and a cute teddy bear

car makeout sesh before going home while you still have some time alone to yourselves

cooks your favorite meal for you and buys you your favorite alcohol

he and the kids bake + decorate a romantic cake for you (it's lowkey ugly but it's the thought that counts!!!) and decorate the house with heart balloons, cute drawings, and candles

you both eat with all the kiddos and sleep together on the same bed ♡

ango sakaguchi

almost forgot it was valentines day bc he was too absorbed in his work...his assistant had to remind him lol

takes you to a classic fancy dinner & buys you your favorite flowers

gifts you your favorite books and some sexy lingerie/boxers (his assistant probably snuck in some toys

your little date helps him relax for once and takes his stress away

gets clingy the next day and keeps trying to call/text you because he misses your presence (dazai and his coworkers tease him nonstop about it)

~猟犬 hunting dogs

jouno saigiku

guys why are there no valentines day cards for these mfs does no one like them or what

takes you to a secluded place away from his annoying coworkers the noisy city

cooks you dinner and gifts you gold jewelry (likely a matching rope bell earring) and some soft sweaters :)

you try to play some board and card games together, but he wins everytime because he can guess your next move based on your heartbeat and movements

after you give up, you both just end up cuddling, and he rambles about his recent missions and office stories

showers you with kisses and caresses; purposely teases your pulse points to get a reaction from you

although you give him gifts (i think he would really like noise-cancelling headphones), his favorite one is your praise. he can't stop blushing when you list off all the reasons you love him hehe

tecchou suehiro

tecchou would take you on a romantic cabin getaway!

you go on a cute couple's hike (it's supposed to be along a heart shaped trail)

he's kind of directionally challenged and gets lost along the way...

as an apology, he gives you the chocolates he bought for you (they melted from the heat though)

he eventually finds his way through the surrounding landscape and you find a secret waterfall connected to a beautiful lake

you both go swimming to cool off and end up laughing off the whole situation

when you get back to the cabin, you order takeout (do not let this man cook) and look through the pictures you took on your hike

he gifts you some plum blossoms he picked on the hike ♡

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freedomfireflies · 7 months

Text

Scream*

Summary: An extra for Mine* and Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, plans out a Fall Day of Fun.

Scary movies included.

Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, mask kink, Daddy kink, Ghostface reference, cum swapping, Harry being a little softie 😗

The narrow, empty halls of your apartment are quiet as you step through. The air cold and almost eerie, urging you forward in search of your boyfriend.

He’d left almost ten minutes ago to make some popcorn. A task that shouldn’t have taken more than a couple of minutes, but when he neglected to return, you felt your curiosity pique.

Leaving the bedroom behind, you move from door to door, glancing around each corner as you call, “Har? You about done?”

Still, the apartment is quiet. Not even a rustle or cough to guide you.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand to a point, bristling with unease as you make your way to the kitchen. “Har?”

However, the small space is empty. Nothing but a bowl of freshly popped popcorn to greet you. It sits on the counter almost mockingly, offering you no insight as to where Harry might have disappeared to.

You begin to frown, now whirling around in search of clues. “Harry, this isn’t funny anymore. Okay, I’m cold, and I want you to come back to bed.”

Nothing.

And then…a door creaks. A shrill, sharp sound that makes you flinch as you turn toward the offending noise with a glare.

But all you find is a collection of coats hanging inside the small closet by the front door.

You huff. “Harry, seriously. You got me, all right? I’m scared.”

Suddenly, you feel a large presence looming just behind you. Brushing up against your back as you gasp and spin on your heel.

You come face to face with a large, white mask. The eyes and mouth cut out in an exaggerated drip, as if mimicking a panicked scream.

And you’d be tempted to scream yourself if it weren’t for the familiar, woodsy notes of a cologne you’d recognize anywhere.

“Tell me, mama…” comes a graveled, husky voice, “…do you like scary movies?”

Playing along, you gasp quietly and begin to back away. Staring at the tall, masked man with terror until you suddenly hit something else hard and firm. Stopping you directly where you stand.

It’s another chest, somehow just as sturdy and unrelenting as the first. This stranger is masked as well, the panicked expression almost condescending as it leers down at you. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Smirking, you offer them both a playful glare. “Okay, all right. Very funny, you two.”

For a moment, the two hooded figures merely stare at you before the first one rips off the mask, revealing that comforting head of curly, brown hair beneath.

“Come on, sugar…we wanna hear you scream,” Harry purrs, grinning deviously as Asher removes his hood as well.

“You wanna play psycho killer?” the man beside you hums, but he’s smiling as well, making you laugh.

“God, you guys are so annoying,” you huff, teasingly shoving at Asher with your elbow. “Where the hell did you get these stupid outfits, anyway?”

Harry’s fingers outstretch for your stomach, tugging on your shirt until you’re wrangled into his arms, face squished against his neck. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispers mischievously, nuzzling his nose along your forehead until you squeal. “That’s the fun of Halloween.”

You snort. “Sure. Who were you even supposed to be, anyway?”

He begins to lean back, eyes wide and expression shocked while you blink innocently.

“Ghostface,” Asher says, stepping closer. “From Scream?”

Glancing over the masks in their hands, you shrug. “Never saw it. Wasn’t really into horror movies growing up.”

“Aww, were you scared, sweet girl?” Harry murmurs, ghosting his lips along the shell of your ear. “Scared the big, bad, bogeyman was gonna get you?”

“Well, he kind of did,” you tease, glancing over your shoulder while he grins.

“If you wanna stab him, I won’t blame you,” Asher calls, tossing his mask toward the sofa. “I’ll even hand you the knife.”

You and Harry both laugh as Harry tightens his holds on your waist and tugs you back against his chest, chin tucked just over your shoulder. “Maybe that’s what we should do tonight, hm? Stay in, bake some cookies…maybe do a little screaming of our own?”

You smile through a scoff. “Sounds romantic.”

“It could be,” he coos, mouth reattaching to your neck as Asher grins. “Could get all cuddled on the couch…keep you warm on my lap…hold you when you get scared.”

And the idea is tantalizing, made even more enticing by the sound of his voice. “Guess that does sound nice.”

“Yeah? Promise I won’t let anything hurt you,” he breathes, the soft trickle of his exhale sending shivers down your spine. “Won’t let anything scare you. Keep you safe in my arms. Always.”

“Always,” you repeat in a soft sigh, heading rolling back against his shoulder. Succumbing to his seduction.

You feel his large hand crawl up from your hip until it can rest over your chest. Cupping your tit firmly in his strong palm before kneading it tenderly. “Is that what you want, mama? Wanna stay here with me?”

You hum weakly, eyes glazing over as you look toward the second-in-command watching you by the kitchen.

Asher smiles softly, nodding once as it to reassure you.

And you do feel reassured. So endlessly content to be in their care. To be loved on by the most wonderful man in the world. Bogeyman or not.

Then, Asher clears his throat. “All right, troublemakers. You two have fun,” he says while heading for the door. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, yeah?”

Confused, and slightly disappointed, you straighten up, watching as he walks down the hall. “Where…where are you going? You aren’t staying?”

He shakes his head. “The boss gave me the night off,” he tells you, tossing a smirk toward Harry. “And I figured you two could use an evening alone.”

It’s a thoughtful gesture. One you aren’t quite sure how to feel about. After all, you’re rather used to him. His face, his voice, his comforting nature. You imagine you’ll be worried about him while he’s gone, even if he’s more than all right.

“Okay,” you finally answer, smiling gently to show him you understand. “But you are coming back, right?”

He grins. “Don’t I always?”

With that, he grabs his keys, throws you both a wink, and disappears from the apartment.

Leaving you and Harry alone at last.

You turn around giddily and snake your arms around his neck. “All right, Mr. Bogeyman. What should we do first?”

He pretends to mull this over. “Hm…think I might have an idea.”

Suddenly, he’s bending down, grabbing onto your legs, and hoisting you over his shoulder.

You squeal in confusion as he traps you in his hold and carries you to the sofa. Ignoring your playful swats to the back of his head until he can drop you down onto the soft cushions and chase after you.

He slots his body between your thighs, settling his hands beside your head as he gazes down at you. And there’s something fierce and animalistic in his eyes. Reverent, almost, and it makes your stomach flutter.

“Har,” you gasp between breathless chuckles, “what the hell are you doing?”

He hums quietly before dipping down to brush his nose with yours. His soft, brown curls sweeping across your forehead. “I missed you.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, fighting a coy grin. “How could you miss me? I didn’t go anywhere.”

He’s quiet as he reaches for your mouth, allowing his thumb to sweep across your pouted lips tentatively. “Don’t care,” he whispers. “Still missed you. Missed all of you.”

“Yeah?” Your voice betrays you. Quiet and wavering with a rush of adoration you can’t seem to tame.

“Mhm. Wanna make up for it.”

“Is that so?” You arch from the couch until your chest can knock against his. Subtly pleading with him to touch you. “How?”

He allows his finger to slip between your lips. Fitting in your mouth almost perfectly as you circle your tongue around the warm digit and hum gratefully. “You tell me.”

You take a moment to think, sucking on his thumb with fervor while he watches you with an intent focus. Seemingly enthralled by every inch of you, especially the way you become so submissive to his taste.

“Kind of like what you said earlier,” you admit quietly. “Think it’d be fun to have a movie night with you.”

“Yeah?” He begins to smile. “Thought you didn’t like scary movies.”

You shrug. “No. But I like you.”

His expression softens as he slides his finger from your mouth.

“Besides, we never get to play house,” you point out. “Might be fun, just this once. Do some baking, snuggle up on the couch. Stay in like an old married couple.”

“Yeah,” he repeats, a bit fainter this time before he sighs. “You know I’d marry you in a heartbeat, mama. Give you everything you ever wanted. The white picket fence and the little house in the suburbs. Work a 9 to 5 and have tons of babies and debt.”

You laugh, knees squeezing his hips. “I know, but you know I don’t want that. Not right now. I’m happy with how things are.”

“Really?” He doesn’t sound convinced. “You’re really okay with a life of being moved, and taken, and hidden, and threatened?”

You glance over his face, reaching up to brush at the dark hairs of his brows. “I am okay with any life…as long as I get to live it with you.”

He releases a strained breath, surging forward until he can rest his forehead against yours. “Oh, sweet girl. Always, always, always.”

And you know he means it.

You kiss him. Press your hands to his cheeks and kiss him so hard, you both feel dizzy.

You’d stay here forever, you decide. Right here, just kissing him. Give up everything; eating, breathing, sleeping…just to remain in his arms.

His heartbeat against yours.

“All right,” he finally murmurs, releasing you in an effort to return the air to your lungs. “Let’s make those cookies, hm?”

He wrestles you up and chases you to the kitchen. Retrieving the ingredients while you get the oven ready and prep your space.

You’re a good team. Even when baking, and you feel an abundance of adoration for the man handing you balls of dough.

You laugh as he flicks some flour at your cheek, and he smirks when you whip him with the edge of your hand towel.

Once the cookies have been pulled from the oven and placed onto the counter to cool, Harry takes your hand, and leads you toward the bedroom.

He pulls you down onto the bed and helps you get situated under the covers before flipping on the television. Scrolling through the horror section until he can find the one he’s looking for.

With a coy smile, he glances over. “Are you sure?”

“S’just a movie,” you say. “How bad can it be?”

He grins a bit wider and hits, “Play.”

A phone rings before the camera pans to a young Drew Barrymore. She sports a young, blonde bob and white sweater, and her voice is as bright as a ray of sunshine.

Harry is instantly enthralled, staring at the screen with wide, entertained eyes as his dimple pops free.

He mouths along with the dialogue as though he’s seen the movie at least a hundred times. And soon, you find yourself watching him more than the screen. The way he lights up with certain jump scares, or scoffs when a particular character is on screen.

It’s rare he gets this excited. In fact, the only thing he tends to show this much passion about…is you.

And he’s so happy right now. So relaxed and carefree. Content to be in this bed with you, his arm around your shoulder as you rest your head on his chest. Humming at the way you trail your fingers along the dips in his ribs.

Before you know it, you’re crawling over his thighs, and settling on his lap. Hands around the back of his neck, lips against his. Moving with a synchronicity that can’t be taught. Only felt.

The movie is long forgotten as his tongue laces with yours, fingers digging into your hips to trap you against him. Groaning softly at the way you nip his bottom lip and move your kisses down his neck.

“Sugar,” he exhales, lashes fluttering shut as he quickly puts the film on pause. “What are you doing, hm?”

“What does it look like?”

He smirks and tightens his grip. “Thought you wanted to watch the movie.”

“And now I’d rather watch you.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

He brings a hand to your hair, brushing the strands behind your ear before cupping your cheek. “And what would you like to watch, mama?”

You can think of a plethora of dirty responses. Ones that would surely make his jaw clench before he gave you everything you ever asked for.

Instead, you find yourself struck with another idea.

Your fingers slip beneath his shirt, grazing his soft, warm stomach that quivers beneath your touch. “Might have had an idea.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, kissing across the curve of his shoulder while your palms meet his chest. You linger over his pecs before squeezing them, brushing your thumbs over his nipples.

He sucks in a quiet breath, and you feel his eyes staring straight through you.

“Want you…to go back…and put on that mask,” you whisper, dragging your lips up toward his ear. “And then…I want you…to fuck me.”

His breath hitches. “Really?”

Another nod. “S’not so scary when it’s you. It’s even kind of…sexy.”

His hand returns to your hair, squeezing the back of your neck gently. “Sugar, are you sure? I don’t ever want you to associate pleasure with genuine fear. Not after everything you’ve been through.”

You lean back to catch his eye, smiling softly. “I’m sure. That’s the whole point. When I know it’s you, and I know I’m safe…it’s so much hotter.”

He studies you closely, almost as though unconvinced. “We’ll still use our system, yes? Yellow to slow down, red to stop.”

“Yes,” you agree, wiggling a bit over his lap to feel the way he hardens beneath his jeans. “Please, Har?”

His pupils grow hazy with lust – blown out and wildly addicted. But he hesitates, nonetheless. “Need you to promise me, mama. Need to know you’re gonna communicate with me the whole time.”

“I will,” you repeat eagerly. “I will, I promise. Just…just go put it on. Please?”

A moment passes as he sighs and caresses your face once more. Almost as though wanting one last bit of tenderness. “All right, sweet girl,” he murmurs, pulling you down to kiss you. “Anything you want.”

You giggle against his lips.

With a pat to your thigh, he clears his throat and nods his chin at you. “I’ll go grab it and put it on. But when I come back to this room, I want you in nothing but your panties, and sitting on the edge of the bed. Is that understood?”

You feel your body ache with a need that can’t be tamed, stomach folding in on itself as you nod and scramble off his lap. “Yes, Daddy.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Good girl. I’ll be right back.”

With that, he stands, and makes his way for the other room. Leaving you to obey his request.

You tug your shirt up and over your head before discarding it somewhere on the floor. Your sweatpants are next, flicked from your ankles toward the chair in the corner before you brush your hair back, and take a deep breath.

You can feel the way your thighs clench together. The damp spot already growing beneath the cotton fabric of your underwear as you crawl toward the end of the bed. Waiting almost anxiously for him to return.

You appreciate that he doesn’t judge you for your strange request. And you absolutely love him for being willing to play along. Even if it means you won’t get to see his pretty face.

You hear his footsteps echoing between the hall as he approaches. Making your heart leap into your throat before a dark shadow slips into the room.

The mask is familiar to you now. The white, ghostly expression surrounded by the black hood. You can’t see anything behind the eyes. Can’t even see his pretty, pink lips. But you know it’s him. Can tell just from the way his body moves.

You straighten up, hands in your lap as the masked man seems to study you.

His head cocks before you hear a recognizable hum. “Obeyed me very well, darling, didn’t you?”

You nod fervently and tug your lip between your teeth. “Yes, Mr. Ghostface. Always.”

You hear him chuckle, perhaps amused with the nickname. And when he doesn’t correct you or scold you, you assume he likes it. “Is this what you wanted, mama? Wanted me to fuck you…just like this?”

He’s moving closer. A slow stride as if stalking prey, and your insides feel fuzzy as you swallow. “Yes.”

Another hum before he comes to a stop just in front of you, glancing down while a gloved hand reaches out to brush along your jaw. “My sweet girl. You’re trembling. S’that how bad you need it?”

He’s right. You can hardly get a coherent response out as you push yourself into his touch, silently begging for more.

He releases your face and lets his leather-covered fingertips find your nipple. He tweaks it – hard. Enough to elicit a gasp and have you arching up into his palm.

The mask leers down. Offering you no other inclination as to how he’s feeling besides the obvious condescension you can hear in his voice.

“Promised to take care of you,” he murmurs, groping at your chest a moment more before releasing you. “So that’s what I’m gonna do. Take my cock out.”

To accompany his instruction, he nods down toward his hips. Encouraging your hands to travel toward his dark jeans as you begin to pry them open.

You’re nearly drooling as you slip your delicate hands into his briefs to pull him free. Instantly whimpering deep from the back of your throat as you scoot closer and slide your palm up toward his leaking tip.

You hear a subtle hiss from behind the ghostly face before he’s stepping closer. Pushing himself into you.

Then, he nods once. “Go ahead, mama.”

Without needing further instruction, you surge forward, and drag your tongue along the underside of him. Tastebuds coated with a familiar taste that reminds you of certain safety and lust.

You use the tricks you know he enjoys the most. Licking at the dark veins before moving up and forming your lips around him. Sucking just enough to tease him before trailing your mouth down the length. Making his hands flex beside him.

Then, one of those hands travels to your head. Sprawling out across the back to keep you close and offer you a bit of comfort and encouragement. Not hard enough to hurt you or take away your freedom, but enough to excite you. Make you eager for his approval.

You take him into your mouth. Simpering at the way he groans and slightly twitches against your tongue.

His gloved fingers disappear into your roots. And they tug to remind you of his appreciation as you swallow around him. Allowing him to hit the back of your throat before you draw back.

“Shit,” comes his gravely reply. Making a dark wave roll straight toward your cunt. “That’s it. S’fucking perfect, sugar.”

The praise spurs you on. Makes your head spin and your legs squeeze together. You need it – need more of it, need all of it. You need to make him proud, make him cum. Make him lose his goddamn mind because of the way you treat his body.

You go faster, suck harder. Bob your head just enough to make his entire body tense with an immeasurable type of pleasure. One that makes him moan your name before bucking himself into your mouth.

You can’t help but gag when he reaches the back, and he’s quick to pull back. Providing you a moment to breathe.

“Sorry, mama,” he hisses, moving to swipe his thumb across your lips. Collecting the bit of drool that drips from your mouth onto his glove. “M’sorry. I’ll be more gentle, I promise.”

But you shake your head. “No, I…I like it. Like that you feel good.”

And you can’t see it, but you imagine he’s smiling. “Is that right, dirty girl?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He seems to groan to himself before he guides his cock back to your tongue. “Then make me feel good, darling.”

You do. Give him everything you have. Hollow your cheeks around his rather large cock and suck until you both see stars. You take as much of him as you can, almost until your nose reaches his stomach. But you can’t quite fit him all the way, and he seems amused by your efforts.

“It’s all right, mama,” he calls, squeezing your neck once. “Know it’s a lot. Already being so good for me. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

You frown, settling for keeping your focus on his tip and letting your palms brush at his balls.

When he notices your pout, he tugs on you again. “What did I say? Need you to talk to me or we stop.”

You pop off long enough to answer, “I’m okay, Mr. Ghostface. Just wish I could do more.”

But you hear a sigh before he steps closer and guides your chin up. “Believe me, sweet girl, you do more than enough. M’already close and I’m nowhere near through with you yet.”

You smile at this. “No?”

The masked face shakes. “No. You wanted me to fuck you, darling, and that’s what I plan to do.”

You drop your hands to your thighs, nails curling into the skin as if to brace yourself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He begins to squeeze your jaw. “So why don’t you crawl back for me. And spread your legs, let me see.”

Within an instant, you’re moving toward the pillows. Settling down onto the blankets as your thighs slowly pull apart to reveal your covered cunt.

And in this moment, you wish you could see his face. The blissful expression he always seems to wear when he gets a good look at you. He loves the way you drip for him. The way your little clit gets swollen with need as your legs shake and your stomach quivers.

And he also happens to love this particular pair of panties. The tiny, pink ribbon that sits on the front. The way it taunts him and calls to him. The way it’s almost innocent in nature despite what lies beneath.

The masked man begins to follow after you. Hands and knees burying deep in the duvet as his head cocks and his attention seems to fall to your cunt.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. His hand outstretches, thumb finding the ribbon before he begins to drag it down. Pressing hard into your pussy to feel the dips and warmth leading toward your hole. “Oh, sugar. Did I get you all worked up?”

You nod weakly as you watch his finger land over the obvious wet spot along the fabric. Whimpering gently at the faux sympathy in his voice.

“Must hurt, hm?” he coos, beginning to circle the area with a bit more determination. “To be so untouched? So desperate?”

You nod quicker this time, making a louder, more pitiful noise. “Please, Daddy. Need you to make it better.”

A sadistic chuckle slips beneath the mask before he’s reaching for the lacy waistband. “All right. Gonna make it better.”

He slips the material down your legs and tosses them into the room behind him. Discarding them quickly before laying his palms against your thighs and pressing them into the bed. Keeping them open and spread exactly the way he likes.

The dark leather around his large hands makes you swallow. You quite like the feel and the sight of it. Knowing that it’s Harry behind the dark façade. And knowing exactly how much he loves you.

“Please, Mr. Ghostface,” you beg quietly – sweetly. “Need you to fuck me.”

His touch constricts, digging into the soft skin of your legs before he’s reaching for his cock. “I will, sugar. Gonna make you scream.”

He scoots forward, guiding the crown toward the weeping hole between your thighs. Prodding at it once, then twice to coat the tip and make sure you’re ready.

But you’ve become a mess of whines and pathetic gasps. His name and a string of pleas that follow before he smacks his hand down your leg to silence you.

“Patience,” he scolds, rubbing the glove over the mark he left. “Daddy’s gonna do it on his own time, understood?”

You pout again but nod. Accepting his condition as you reach for your chest to squeeze your tits in your hands.

And even without being able to see his eyes, you know he’s watching. Enthralled and mesmerized by the way you arch into your own touch and moan softly.

You pinch your nipples before groping at the flesh a time or two more. Lashes fluttering shut in blissful ecstasy while the space between your legs grows wetter.

You hear him curse before he begins to push in. Recapturing your attention and claiming your pleasure as his own.

And it’s at this moment that you wish you hadn’t asked him to put on that stupid mask. Because you want to kiss him, more than anything. Want to see his face, see his beautiful lips as he drops them open with a low groan. Want to nip at his jaw and leave marks down his neck. Want to tangle your fingers in his curls and tug until he whimpers your name.

Instead, you stare at the face of a ghost above you. Which isn’t so bad. After all, it’s still wildly arousing as he sinks into your cunt with a practiced precision.

Instantly, you toss your legs around his hips and hook your ankles near his ass. Pulling him in deeper while he sucks in a sharp breath and bottoms out.

You hold onto each other for only a moment. The cold face of the mask brushing against your cheek as you shiver and subsequently clench around him.

“Sugar,” he warns, but it’s mixed with a lewd moan. “M’not gonna last long if you keep doing that.”

“Sorry,” you gasp, although you’re anything but. “Just feel really good.”

You feel a hand on your ribcage, squeezing as though to show some sort of affection. “Good,” he murmurs before pulling back and pushing back in. “Cause it’s all for you, mama.”

You arch from the bed as he begins fucking into you, hard and slow. Hitting spots inside you that are so deep, you think you feel your stomach flip. It’s incredible the way he uses your body. The way he knows it, works it. Works himself into it. Plunging himself inside your pussy until the sounds of your arousal echo between your ears.

You glance down to watch, loving the way you can see your drip on his cock, the way it coats your thighs, coats the blanket beneath. Glistening in the soft light of the room and from the TV in the corner.

He’s grunting from the force, slamming his hips into yours while you gasp out his name.

Leather-clad fingers land on your chest. Effortlessly brushing your own hands out of the way as he takes you in his palm and harshly gropes at your sensitive breast.

It looks pretty in the glove. Dangerous, in fact. The slight sting makes your eyes roll back and your body shudders with pleasure while Harry begins to pick up the pace. Fucking into you quicker as he begins to chase his release.

Suddenly, he’s tugging on one of your legs to return it to the bed. Once again pressing it hard into the mattress at an open, spread angle to find that position he wants.

You whine as you’re manhandled, bucking up from the rush of euphoria when he finds a particularly pleasurable spot.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he exhales, drawing back almost all the way before sinking in to the hilt. “S’a lot, yeah?”

Your head moves up and down wordlessly.

“I know,” he hums, rhythm beginning to get sloppy. Uncoordinated and rushed, like he’s nearing his release. “Shit, I know, mama. M’gonna cum…and then m’gonna make you cum. All fucking night—”

You cry out at another wave of something sweet before he’s grunting in your ear and twitching inside your soft walls. “Har…Harry, please—”

“I know,” he repeats, gritting the words between clenched teeth. “I know, I’ve got you. Always got you—”

“Please, please, please—”

“M’right here. You’re okay. Won’t stop. Never gonna stop—”

“Daddy—”

“Fuck, yes. S’a good girl, keep still. Just like that—”

He cums. Suddenly and almost without much warning, and it’s strangely addictive. Spilling inside of you until you squirm almost violently at the sensation. Chasing after the need as he empties himself into you before pulling back.

You’re surprised by the abrupt shift, wondering almost sadly why he’s leaving you so quickly when he’s just barely finished.

But the answer soon comes in the form of his hand reaching up toward the mask to rip it from his face. Revealing his flushed cheeks and blown-out pupils as he tosses it aside and surges forward.

His mouth attaches to your pussy before you can even speak. Sucking and licking and drenching his chin in both of your juices.

It’s smeared across his mouth and nose and cheek like a painting. Making such a beautiful face even that much more alluring.

“Har,” you whimper, reaching for the curls now at your disposal. They’re slightly warm and sweaty from being covered, but it feels good. Almost erotic, and you pull until he moans against your cunt. “Fucking missed you—”

“Yeah?” His grin is devilish as he glances up just long enough to meet your eye. “Good.”

He nips at your clit before swirling his tongue around it and sucking it into his mouth. He presses and pulls until your head rolls back and your focus finds the ceiling. Your thighs burn from the way you thrash, and your toes are curling deep into the covers.

Nothing can stop you. Nothing can stop him. It’s everything, everywhere, all at once. A rush of endorphins and adrenaline and pleasure and lust and love and adoration.

And you cum harder than you think you ever have. You lose time. Lose almost every one of your senses. You can’t see or hear anything beyond soft murmurs of Harry’s voice, calling to you. Saying something you can’t decipher.

You scream out his name until your throat is raw. And it goes for what feels like hours. Perhaps it’s only seconds, but it feels immeasurably longer than that.

He holds you through every second. Hands on your hips to keep you against his tongue while he kitten-licks at your pussy until you’re gasping for him to stop.

He does, but only after he’s decided he’s finished. That you’ve given him all you can and that he’s cleaned up his mess.

Then, he rises up, and comes to you. Pressing his mouth to yours and kissing you harder than he has all day. You taste everything, but you mostly taste him. And the way he loves you.

He only stops once. Leaning back to catch your eye, brush his thumb across your cheek, and whisper,

“Fucking love it when you scream.”

~ Mine Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @acesofspadess @stylesfever @caynonmoondreams @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

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shuichisweave · 7 months

Text

costume party

riddler x (sort of bimbo) reader part one

halloween fic

suggestive

“Edward”

Oh dear god. Oh no. Oh fuck.

You did not call him Edward unless he had truly fucked up. What was it now? Had all of his plans of eventually letting you in on knowing who he truly was gone awry? He froze in place, unable to move or even look in your direction, as if he had been plastered down onto the cushion of the loveseat in your shared apartment.

No. Impossible. It couldn’t be- he had done everything absolutely perfectly, everything falling into place just as it should have, slowly introducing the idea of him being more radicalized than he had let on when he first met you. It was going to be sublime. He realized that by now he had not responded to you for nearly a minute. Better late than never.

“Yes dear? Is everything alright?” He looked over his shoulder to see you behind him tapping your foot on the ground. Looking impatient, disappointed even. “Eddie, baby, what day is it?” His eyes swatted from you to the calendar on the fridge. October 26th.

“Uhhhh… the twenty-sixth?” You softened your gaze slightly, realizing he had no clue how close the upcoming holiday was. “Eddie, we have a costume party coming up on the twenty-ninth of this month. There's only three days left counting today to get our shit together and put together some costumes. We’re going costume shopping today and that’s final” You turned back into your shared bedroom to get ready for shopping without another word. Edward let out a heavy sign he didn’t realize he had been keeping in.

The Halloween surplus store luckily wasn’t too bare bones for it being the end of October. A few shelves were sparingly stocked however most were full. Unfortunately for Eddie that just meant more for you to browse through and drag him into trying on. “Eddie, look at this! How cute! A playboy bunny costume! Isn’t it so pretty!” You showed him the vinyl wrapped costume package with a scantily clad woman with bunny ears on. He audibly gulped at the thought of having to share your presence with others while you wore that.

Even after having been together for over a year he still didn’t know how to respond to you in a situation like this. “It’s er- lovely sweetheart but don't you want these to be matching costumes? That means I’ll either have to be Hugh Hefner or a playboy bunny too, and I don’t know how I feel about having to wear that around some of your coworkers…” You took a moment to think on it, and placed the bagged costume back on its proper hook. “Good idea you’re so right! Plus Hugh Hefner is just ugh you know? I don’t want to think of you as a gross old guy” You went back to peruse some of the stocked costumes, taking your time to look through them carefully. “AHA! It’s so perfect, Eddie look! Look, look, look!” In your hands you held a skimpy little bo-peep costume, complete with thigh highs, a garter, and a baby pink shepherd's crook.

“So what do you think? Should I get it? That way you can be a cute little sheep and we’ll look perfect together! He nearly came in his work khakis at the thought of you, practically nude in that little get up and dragging him around the party like your sex slave. “Y-yes absolutely. I think you’ll look … so so pretty” You grinned and searched for a way to make him have a not too embarrassing sheep costume.

Finally making it home you squealed in delight at the thought of Ed seeing you in this costume and making his jaw drop to the floor. Although to him he just thought it was a shriek of happiness from finally having a cute outfit to wear for the party you would be holding. “Alright, I’m gonna go try it on! No peeking okay?” It was then that he realized it would have been a great idea to bug the bathroom, he would have made good use out of the pictures and videos that a hidden camera in there would produce. After a few minutes of hearing the sound of plastic bags and shuffling, the bathroom door opened and you appeared, donning the frilly costume. Your tits nearly spilled out the top of the corset top and the soft pink skirt left nothing to the imagination. You frowned slightly and said “Eddie? I’ve called your name three times by now. What do you think? Too much?” He nearly shouted “No! No no it’s perfect. Truly it’s perfect, you look perfect”

You strolled back over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so happy you like it Eddie, I absolutely adore it” You gently wrapped your arms over his shoulders, hanging off of him. “So now that I know how you feel about it- do you want to try it out?”

“Try it out? What do you mean?” He looked at you utterly confused. “C’mon Eddie baby” You said, taking him by the hand and pulling him towards your shared bedroom.

“Oh!”

Oh.

#fanfic #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #bimbo reader #riddler #edward nygma x reader #edward nygma #the batman 2022

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 7 months

Text

Smut Masterlist

soft, nothing too explicit: 💟 explicit and spicy: 💦 contains some fluffiness uwu: 💕

hi i think the original post is getting too long and tumblr won't let me save it so this is my attempt at compromising

main masterlist

hcs/drabbles:

➼ biting on levi that leads to him ruining you as revenge 💦 ➼ car sex with levi at the beach 💦 ➼ endurance training by riding levi 💦 ➼ fucking levi in a suit 💦 ➼ jealous!levi claiming your pussy 💦 ➼ jealous!levi reminding you that you’re his 💦 ➼ levi and titty-fucking (random thoughts) 💦 ➼ levi edging you with his fingers 💦 ➼ levi fingering you in public 💦 ➼ levi fucking you backstage after a photoshoot 💦 ➼ levi fucking you in a restaurant bathroom 💦 ➼ levi needing a much needed stress reliever by fucking your brains out 💦 ➼ levi punishing you with his fingers and a vibrator 💦 ➼ levi thirst drabbles 💦 ➼ levi using his cravat as a gag 💦 ➼ relieving levi by riding him 💦 ➼ revenge sex with levi after you tease him all night 💦 ➼ slow sex with soft-dom!levi 💦 ➼ smut drabble event masterlist 💦 ➼ soft dom!levi telling you to relax 💦 ➼ spontaneous sex with levi 💟 ➼ subby!levi getting a blowjob 💦 ➼ touch-starved!levi having to wake up without you next to him 💟 ➼ touch-starved!levi that misses you after a week without you 💟

oneshots:

➼ Asking For It 💦

You had made the foolish choice of wearing a suggestive outfit while teasing your boyfriend while at a Halloween party, and must now live with the consequences. Part 2 to "Basically Lingerie"

➼ Basically Lingerie 💟

You prepare to leave for a Halloween party, and Levi has some reservations about the costume you planned on wearing. Part 1 to "Asking For It"

➼ Discipline 💦

Your attempt at hating at your manager results in him summoning you to his office to punish you for your less than desirable behavior.

➼ Fucked Out 💦 💕

After getting fucked stupid by Levi, he helps you clean up and provides you with gentle aftercare.

➼ Revenge 💦

You had been teasing Levi all night while on a fancy date. Sick of it, Levi takes matters into his own hands.

➼ The Short King 💟

You run into Levi after coming out of the shower after avoiding him and are forced to navigate your budding feelings for him.

➼ Your Mark 💟

You went just a tad overboard the previous night and the hickies you left on Levi were more than noticeable. After a rough day, he decides to get payback.

Last updated: March 9, 2024

© humanitys-strongest-bamf & rydenkat | Do not repost or plagiarize my work. Do not translate or edit without my permission. Do not feed my work into AI. My work is currently posted exclusively on Wattpad, AO3, and Tumblr. Feel free to recommend my works on other social media platforms!

#n.sfw #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi smut #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

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elsfairy · 7 months

Note

emi my love, can i request a scream! ellie or abby for halloween? i’m planning on writing one as well but i’d love to see how you’d pull it off. (amazingly ofc🤭)

oh my.... the way you’re trusting me with this..... 😳 me lowkey not knowing if you wanted smut, but we all know im a whore for it. for you, i did my best so i hope this is what you wanted, baby 💗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 — a. anderson

Tonight was a cold evening, colder than usual, especially with it being Halloween. You had spent most of your afternoon going into the evening, slowly but perfectly getting together a little candlelight dinner for your girlfriend, Abby. It was your 2 year anniversary and you wanted tonight's dinner to be a lot more special than when it was your one year. Thankfully you hadn’t had kids and their parents knocking on your door, smiling and asking for candy so that gave you even more time to pick out the perfect outfit, find the best makeup looks and finish it off with the sweetest perfume.

There was only one slight problem in the plan you had ready for tonight . . . she was late. In fairness to her, she had to work a long shift tonight so you knew her schedule was going to be a little crazy but you only received the ‘i won’t be able to make it tonight’ text 30 minutes ago. You were defeated, you felt stupid and you were exhausted from spending so much time on your feet, trying to make something perfect for her, for you both, only for it to be ruined because she had to work late. It wasn’t unusual for her to be late, but it was weird because she promised she would be here. She even said she had an extra surprise for you, so why the sudden change?

At first, you were waiting for another text saying she was just kidding and that she would be home soon, but it never came. You had gotten tired of watching the minutes tick by on the clock in the kitchen from where you sat in the living room, and with a defeated sigh, you dropped the napkin you had resting on your lap, onto the table and pushed your chair out to make your way to the bedroom.

Your hand had just reached the door handle of your bedroom when the sound of your phone, the one you left on the dining room table, had started to ring which had you turning around, sprinting to it, hoping and praying that it was Abby and she had somehow managed to get someone to cover her shift to be home with you.

“Hello?” Your voice cheerful.

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice, one you didn’t recognise came from the other side of the phone.

The smile you had on your face dropped, frustration and sadness took over quickly. Rolling your eyes at the stupid question, you continued your way to your bedroom. “I’m not in the mood for your questions” came your snarky, bitter reply. “How’d you even get this number?”

“Oh, c’mon everyone has a favourite scary movie”

“I don’t. I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit”

“Is that why you look so miserable in such a pretty dress?”

The air was suddenly knocked from your lungs, your body turning around abruptly as your eyes were looking everywhere. Confused about how this stranger, who you’ve never met, knows exactly what you’re wearing and just how fuckin’ miserable you look. “I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, but know that my girlfriend is on the way home from work, and i won’t hesitate to call the police. Do you hear me?”

Not wanting to entertain this douche any longer than you already had, you hurriedly hung up the phone, almost throwing it with how frustrated you were with how ruined this night had become for you. All you wanted was a nice night with the woman you loved, eating something you both adore and instead, you had some idiot prank calling you at your worst. It was indeed a shitty night and you wanted nothing more than to take a warm bath and sleep the night away.

Your body had just reached the end of the bed when the sound of the floorboards beneath you had creaked. The only fucked up floorboard in the apartment that you had been telling Abby for months to try and sort out. It wasn’t your foot that caused it, you always avoided that one out of habit when your girl has been working all day, and tried to avoid waking her up in the early hours of the morning. The hair on the back of your neck stood quickly, and your body on it’s own accord turned just slightly to spot the figure— a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing in your doorway. Face covered with a mask you thought was familiar but couldn’t really name right now, and their head tilted, just watching you.

For some reason you didn’t feel panic, your heart was racing sure, but the longer you both just watched each other, you didn’t feel any need to instantly throw something at your intruder. However, the panic raised in you slightly when the figure took one step forward as you took one back. A subtle yet soft gasp had slipped past your lips when your back gently knocked into the wall, your hand trying to grip something to stop yourself from falling flat on your face. “Careful, wouldn’t want you falling over on me now”

The voice sounded like one you had recognised but it was so muffled by the current mask, it was making it hard for you to understand and put your finger on it. Your heart picked up the pace and started beating a little faster, where the fuck was Abby? Why were you not screaming? Trying to push them away? Something about them seemed so . . . comforting but maybe you were just slightly delusional from the half glass of wine you had.

You hadn’t realized you had zoned out slightly until the feeling of fingers grazing your jaw, pulled you out of your trance, your lips part at realizing just how close they are to you. The feeling of them being so familiar with you still resides in your chest, and it isn’t until you hear that fuckin’ breathless chuckle that your knees buckle.

“Abby?”

“You really think i would stand you up on our anniversary, baby?”

You simply couldn’t focus on what she was saying because you were too focused on the hand she had groping your tits, somehow already pulling your dress down to get a view of them, her fingers pinching at your already hardened nipples, while her other hand is sliding up your dress, already slipping into your panties. With a groan she leans more into you, pushing you more into the wall, the feeling of your slick covering her fingers. “Jesus Christ, you get so fuckin’ wet. This turn you on that much?”

With the way her fingers were rubbing circles on your clit, spreading your slick over your folds, and how good her hand was on your tit, you couldn’t form one correct sentence, and the only thing that you were letting out was whimpers and whines into her shoulder, nails bluntly digging into her arm. “wanna see you, please? please let me see you Abs” You beg softly, your back arching off the wall when those thick fingers tease your hole.

“Yeah? c’mon then pretty girl, take it off for me”

The second those words came from her mouth, your hands moved quickly, gripping the bottom of the mask, and pulling it off swiftly. Her blonde locks cascade down her shoulders, flyways framing her face, and your heart melted at the sight of her blue eyes looking at you with such a soft look, and a grin making it’s way onto her face. “Knew you were freaky, but not this freaky”

Before you had time to defend yourself or bite back at her words, she slipped her fingers inside your cunt, your walls instantly trapping them and the action caused her to grunt into your neck, while you were gasping out her name softly at the intrusion. The sounds leaving you were driving her crazy, and sending her brain into a frenzy. You always made the prettiest sounds, and she would keep doing everything possible to hear them.

Resting her forehead against yours, the squelching sound your cunt was making rang through her ears loudly and she could feel her own cunt clenching around nothing at how good you felt, how good you sounded, and how pretty you begged “Say my name, baby” She whispered breathlessly against you.

“Abby . . ”

Rubbing your clit with her thumb, you almost felt winded at the extra attention, and Abby was quick to remove her hand from your tits, to wrap her arm around your waist to keep you up, and steady. You had to use all your remaining strength because her touch always did make you fuzzy and light-heade, to cling onto her, while her eyes darted between your pretty lips that parted with such soft moans, and down where she watched her fingers disappear inside your cunt.

Your hand had caught her wrist quickly when her thrusts sped up just slightly, grinding yourself into her touch, your legs fell even weaker when she chuckled in your ear, her fingers still pumping in and out of you at a fast but gentle pace.

“Good, because it’s the only thing you’ll be screaming tonight”

#ᥫ᭡ my dani angel #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson fic

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querenciasturniolo · 9 months

Note

hi hi, i was wondering if i could get a chris x f!reader where chris has a crush on reader and tries to impress her by dressing up as steve for halloween bc reader loves stranger things and when she finds out it’s super fluffy like they finally get together?

Tysm, I’m really excited for halloween lol 🎃

harrington ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: swearing, cheesiness

summary: request

a/n: this was so fun, i’m so PUMPED for halloween thanks to this, so thank you 🎃 not proofread btw

this is the first of MANY, i’m gonna try my best to get more and more finished and posted, but here you are 🧡

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“When are you guys getting here? The party starts in twenty minutes, and it takes half an hour to get there.”

You heard Nick groan over the receiver as you pulled the final curler from your hair and combed through it.

“We’ll be there soon, Chris just had to choose the most difficult DIY prop for his costume.” Nick said. Before you could even ask what Nick was talking about, chaos ensued. Chris and Nick bickering at each other was nothing new, but over the phone it was almost impossible to understand.

You snorted and told them you’d see them when they got there, though you knew by the time you finished your sentence that they couldn’t hear you. You dropped your phone onto your sink and took a step back, your eyes roaming over your entire outfit to make sure it looked right. You adjusted your skirt and tucked in the back of your shirt, doing a small twirl and shaking your head at how corny you are.

Nancy Wheeler, seemingly an easy character to replicate, but for some reason it still felt cheesy. You’d been a fan of Stranger Things since the first season, and you’d finally gotten over yourself enough to go as her for Halloween. Chris had pestered you to tell him what you were going as, same with Nick and Matt, but you wanted to keep it a secret to save yourself from backing out at the last second if they’d made a joke about it.

The knock on your door made you jump. You sighed and laughed quietly at yourself as you headed towards the door. Another knock sounded just as you twisted the handle.

“I’m coming, Jesus. Hold your hors—”

Your eyes went wide as you met Chris’ eyes, his own face resembling the same amount of shock as yours. Nick’s footsteps were heard coming from behind Chris, but you couldn’t pull your shocked gaze away from him.

“Are we leaving or—no fucking way. Chris, I told you!” Nick exclaimed, turning around and gesturing for Matt to come quicker. “Matt! I was right, they’re fucking matching!”

Chris was standing directly in front of you, dressed as Steve Harrington, the bat thrown over his shoulder. Your face was on fire, your heart racing as you fish-mouthed. You couldn’t possibly go to the party as Steve and Nancy, that would be insinuating that the two of you meant to do this. That would be insinuating that the two of you planned it, to go as a couple.

“I-I can change?” You said, your voice weak. Chris snapped out of his shock and looked down at you, shaking his head.

“What? No, why would you change?” He asked. You noticed the pink tinge to his cheeks almost immediately, which just made your chest ache more.

“I don’t even know.” You said honestly, Chris smiling and looking back.

“We should get going, though.” He said. You nodded and shut your door, locking it and sighing before you turned around and followed them to the car.

The drive was silent apart from the music playing moderately through the speakers. They had been your friends for ages, and the fact that you could all just sit in silence and enjoy each other’s company was perfect, in a sense. You had your feet perched up on the back of Chris’ seat, grateful your skirt was long enough to cover you and that your mother wasn’t there to tell you to sit like a lady, just scrolling through your phone. A text popped up in a banner, and you clicked on it without even seeing who sent it.

chris: you make a good nancy

You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you typed out a message.

and you make a good steve. how did you manage to hide your costume from me?

The moment the message was sent, you realized you were grinning down at your screen. You quickly schooled your features and looked out the window, watching the sun go down and the street lights glare against the glass. Your phone vibrated in your lap, and you forced yourself to wait a few moments before you picked it up.

chris: i’m stealthy, like a ninja.

A cackle bubbled out of you, your hand slapping over your mouth as your cheeks heated up. You could see Nick glance over at you from your peripheral, his eyebrows furrowed before he looked back at his own screen. You cleared your throat and sat back in your seat, dropping your feet on the floor of the car as you locked your phone and dropped it onto your lap.

The rest of the car ride was silent, your face warm and your heart pounding the moment the four of you pulled up to the party. Chris was by your side in an instant, his arm over your shoulders as the two of you walked into the slightly crowded house.

You couldn’t even remember who was throwing the party, but you were grateful that it wasn’t too crowded, and everyone was friendly. You talked to quite a few people, Chris’ arm never leaving your shoulder as the two of you passed through the house.

“You know.” You said, turning your head to face him. Chris looked down at you with raised eyebrows. “You haven’t let go of me all night.”

Chris smiled down at you and shrugged his shoulders. “I have nothing to say for myself, other than you look great and we match. What’s Steve without his Nancy?” He asked, squeezing your shoulder. You pulled away and stood in front of him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why did you dress as Steve?” You asked. Chris frowned at you and sputtered, shaking his head.

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I dress as Steve?” He asked his cheeks tinged red as he avoided your gaze. The look on your face when he finally met your eyes again made him sigh and he shrugged.

“God it’s so cheesy, bare with me.” He said. You nodded, waiting patiently for him to go on with a growing smile on your face. “I’ve like, been into you for a while now. And I thought if I went as Steve for Halloween, you’d be impressed. It’s totally fine if you don’t feel the same way, obviously. I just, I don’t even know what I was thinking, actually. Forget I said anyth—”

You rested your hand over his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up as you pulled it away when he stopped talking.

“That was so incredibly fucked up, are you serious?” He asked, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you shook your head and smiled up at him.

“How else was I supposed to get you to shut up long enough for me to say I do feel the same?” You asked, Chris’ shocked face morphing into a fond, shy smile.

“Really?” He asked, his hands coming up from his sides to rest on your waist. You practically beamed at him as you nodded and leaned up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. You dropped back down on your heels and took a step back, his hands dropping back to his sides as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Really. Now, ready to get back to the party?” You asked, turning and walking away. He was soon right by your side, his hand entwining with yours as he tossed the bat over his shoulder.

“I was born ready, Wheeler.”

tags: @strniolo , @toyourloves , @ssturniolo , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @emmssturniolo , @lvrsparadise , @tuktuk34 , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee

#chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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worksby-d · 2 years

Text

Pairing: dilf!Andy Barber x babysitter!Reader

Summary: Andy offers to drive you to a halloween party after babysitting for him, but you get distracted before you can get there.

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is in her 20s), Andy’s imaginary younger kid that I made up to make the plot work, car sex, blowjob, fingering, creampie, 18+

Word count: ~2,000

a/n: Changed this prompt to be for Andy at the last minute because I miss him soooo much 😣💕 I’m sorry to the Ari girlies. I’ll make it up to you, I promise 🫶

Part Two

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

Skipping down the steps, you're in your own world as you quickly gather your jacket and shove the rest of your clothes into your bag, heading toward the kitchen to wait patiently for Andy and Jacob to get home.

Andy had texted you earlier today, asking a last minute favor of you to watch his youngest daughter while he and Jacob had a father-son evening. It wasn't like the Barbers to have not asked weeks in advance, but they're like a second family to you at this point, so you couldn't say no. But you do have plans to get to once those two are finally back.

Sending Andy a quick text, politely asking for an ETA since he wasn't sure before, you jump hearing his phone ding from just a couple feet away.

“Never mind,” you chuckle, walking into the room and seeing them both standing there already. “Sorry, I didn't hear you guys come in.”

“That's alright,” he laughs. If you aren't mistaken, you swear he does a double take after his eyes land on you. And you kind of hope that’s the case for a different reason, but he's probably just trying to decipher your costume. “We just got back. Figured you were putting the princess to bed, but maybe you were playing dress up..?”

“Oh, no,” you giggle. You know he's joking as he gestures to your outfit – a white skirt, white cropped tank top with thigh high tights, white heels, and a halo on your head to match. “I have a Halloween party to get to, so I was getting ready since she fell asleep early.”

“I didn't know you had plans tonight, I'm sorry–”

“No, it's okay.” You can’t let him apologize. He didn't force you to say yes. “I'm always happy to help out. I have a friend coming to pick me up though, so I'm just gonna hang out a while longer if that’s okay. This is kind of out of their way.”

“Well… Tell them they're off the hook.” Your confusion must be evident. “I can give you a ride,” he explains. “Yeah, Jacob’s here now, so I can leave for a bit, no problem.”

“You don't have to–”

“It's the least I can do.”

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

It's a quiet ride at first. You spend the first couple minutes trying to come up with some small talk. You've always talked to his wife more than you have to him, so you're not coming up with much.

As if he can read your mind, he takes it upon himself to break the silence.

“Laurie and I separated.”

Is this his idea of small talk?

You have kind of been wondering though since it was Andy who contacted you for once and since she wasn't at the house when you got there. Plus, you wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but you noticed his missing wedding ring.

“Just felt like I owed you an explanation for the last minute need for a babysitter today. It's my weekend with the kids, but I didn't want to let Jake down, so…”

Glancing at him beside you, there's a sadness in his eyes–very clear as they're lit up under each street light you pass–and you wish there was something you could do for him.

You're not sure what to say honestly. Your initial reaction is scoffing an astonished, “her loss,” but you figure that's probably the wrong thing.

“Oh…” You let your solemn tone fill the quiet for a second. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

You don't leave it at that though, instead punctuating your words with a daring hand resting on his leg.

His heart races the same as yours at the contact – But while yours does so out of nerves awaiting his reaction, his is a result of not having felt such a gentle touch in so long.

As your touch lingers, he has to resist his impulse to drop a hand from the wheel and take yours in his.

For fear of misreading your movement, he just grips the steering wheel tighter, trying his best to not dwell on what’s probably nothing.

You watch as he shifts slightly in his seat, gauging his reaction to your subtle advance. When he doesn't pull completely away or ask what you're doing, you assume you're in the clear.

Seeing how far he'll let you go, you slowly move your hand higher up his leg, gently brushing your fingers along his inner thigh.

He's trying to keep his composure, but you hear the hitch in his breathing as your touch gets closer to where he's secretly wishing it would go.

In an instant, he’s slowing the car down, and you smirk to yourself as he veers to pull over on the side of the road.

It's a dark one, nearly silent save the rustling of what's left for leaves on the trees as a few gusts of wind blow by.

He lets out a deep sigh when you take your hand away from him, finally looking toward you to search for any signs that he's gotten the wrong idea. But you're unbuckling your seat belt and leaning over to undo his too.

“You look so sad,” you whisper. “I can make you feel better.”

Your eyes meet his as you move closer to him–as close as the center console separating you will allow anyway.

“Yeah?” His voice is low as he watches you kneel on your seat, putting a hand back on his leg to hold yourself up.

“Uh-huh,” you hum, putting an end to his anticipation as your hand slides over the crotch of his jeans, palming against his cock. “If it's okay with you…”

His head falls back against his seat, a groan escaping his lips, when your fingers work to undo his belt and move his pants out of the way, ghosting over his hard dick.

“Go ahead and show me, pretty girl.”

He moves his seat farther back so you can comfortably take up the space between himself and the wheel. You can't contain yourself, eagerly replacing your hand with your mouth, taking as much of him as you can before softly gagging.

“Oh, fuck.” A breath gets caught in his throat. One of his hands gathers any hair from falling on your face, while the other rests on your upper back to keep you down. “You're good at that.”

Lifting your head, you let out a small laugh before sinking your mouth back down on him. Hearing him pant above you, you can't help but squeeze your thighs together in attempt of some sort of relief, no room to slip your own hand between your legs.

Andy catches on though, his leather seat squeaking each time you squirm. His hand on your back glides down to your ass, finding that your skirt is conveniently short enough to just flip up and pull your thong aside.

Deft fingers expertly find your clit, already slick from your dripping arousal.

He tsks, “All this just from sucking my cock, babygirl?”

Your whimper quickly turns into a moan as he pushes a finger into your sopping pussy, legs already trembling from the sudden intrusion.

“You're a sensitive one,” he chuckles.

You have to come up for air for a second, resting your cheek against his body while your hand takes over, slowly stroking his hard cock.

“Andy–” Your voice trails off, all words forgotten as he continues thrusting a second finger into you.

“Keep going, angel. I've got you.”

Taking him back in your mouth, nothing but lewd noises fill the car. An involuntary thrust of his hips makes you gag again.

With tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you have to push off of him for a breath again. And as tempting as it is for him to fill your pretty mouth, he doesn't force you back down this time.

He pulls his hand from between your legs, eliciting a whine from you as he kindly smoothes your skirt back into place.

You have to sit up slowly, but once you're steady, you swiftly clamber into his lap, straddling your legs on either side of his.

“Woah, eager,” he teases, putting his hands on your hips to support you. He has to reach up to remove the halo from your head though so it doesn't get ruined pressed against the roof of the car. “I usually take my time with people I like.”

Attempting to ignore the heat that flushes across your face following his words, you let out a shy laugh. He can't help but notice how breathtaking you look – the glittery makeup on your eyelids and cheeks reflecting the bright moonlight peeking into the dark vehicle.

“My friends will wonder where I am.”

“So…” He smirks. “Another time then?”

“Another time,” you nod, breathless again as you lift up and begin sinking down on his cock.

“Shit–”

“Andy–”

You sigh in unison.

Feeling a breeze across your damp forehead, you’re reminded of the windows you kept cracked for air. You drop your face to his neck to muffle your moans, afraid of being too loud.

It doesn't take long for you both to teeter on the edge of your highs after working each other up. He can feel your legs quivering against his own as you continue to ride him.

“Can feel you're close,” he grunts, gripping your hips to help you move.

You cry out, quickly grazing your teeth against his neck to quiet yourself as he fucks you deeper, clit bumping against his pelvis each time you come down.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Give it to me. I wanna feel you cum.”

He's got you in the palm of his hand at this point, you'd do anything for him. Your orgasm washes over you as an intense heat flooding your body. It leaves you trembling in his arms, biting down where his neck meets his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming his name.

“That’s it,” he breathes, working you through it as he chases his own release now. “Good girl. ‘m right there with you. Gonna leave you full of me for the–for the rest of the night.” He stumbles over his words. “No one will suspect a thing from the girl dressed like an a–angel.”

“Please,” you choke out, wanting, needing, to feel him. “Andy–”

Your pleas are cut off by a low growl in your ear and his arms tightening around you to keep you still as his cock twitches, release spilling deep inside you.

Letting out a shuddering breath, your body goes lax against him. The rise and fall of his chest as he works to steady his breathing is the only thing you can feel for a few moments.

“You with me, Y/N?” He chuckles, albeit still a little out of breath, as he checks on you.

“I think so,” you laugh and let out a sigh before finally lifting yourself off of him.

You instantly feel his cum dripping out of you, but he's a man who sticks to his word–quick to push it back in with two fingers before adjusting your panties back into place.

Your cheeks burn and you avert your eyes from his, whimpering at the obscene act. But your eyes fall on his neck, littered with evident bite marks outlined by your shimmery lip gloss.

“There's glitter everywhere,” you giggle, bringing your thumb up to try to wipe some off of his skin and his t-shirt. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, don't worry about it.” He shrugs, but tries to get some that's misplaced off your face too though. “Let's get you to that party, sweetheart.”

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #andy barber imagine #dest's kinktober

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