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#since that takes a long time to dry and to set
batterygarden · 1 day
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blessed (satoru x fem & afab! reader)
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contents: breeding cursed technique fic, dead dove do not eat!(reader's technique is basically for conceiving strong babies), arranged marriage, stockholm syndrome, he's your second cousin so incest, explicit nasty smut & breeding, pregnancy, misogynistic society, crybaby reader, satoru is sweet ultimately, ominous but happy ending, weird montage of sex scenes + the past + the present, 3.8 k words
18+ pls MDNI!
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Divine fertility.
It’s gross—somewhere inside your brain (in a locked filing cabinet, underneath a false drawer and written in invisible ink), you’re conscious of the fact that it’s gross.
Your technique, its consequences, your life; everything you’ve been born unto is filth cloaked in blessings, but, on principle, you don’t allow yourself to look at things objectively. Disgust would only make things miserable and you’re designed to be happy. 
Blessed with a cursed technique to conceive, you’ve always had a role and it’s never been disputable—one of producing heirs. Your life was planned from the moment you were born, a whole future tied in a neat little bow—you’re lucky. That’s what everyone’s always promised. 
You’ve been told how happy you are so much that the words have seeped into your skull—you’ve long since found peace with Divine Fertility and what it means. 
More than that.
You want to be bred so badly it aches. 
You can’t go huge lengths of time untouched. You grow volatile when you’re empty too long, a weakness that chains you to your betrothed’s bed. But you’re most useful that way anyways. Hormonal and needy, but certain to pass your partner’s techniques—actually you’re more than useful as a clan member, you’re honored. Enough to marry the strongest man alive—your second cousin in your own clan. 
Whether you’ve always known it or not, you’ve always lived for Gojo Satoru. 
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“Do not come in Ijichi—fuck! Not…not right now.” 
Gojo stands a foot away from his bed when he says this, clothes half on while you kneel at his feet, sucking him absolutely dry. That’s as far as he was able to get this morning before you were trying to lure him back to you, looking up at him with giant, glassy eyes while you tugged the waistband of his boxers. He wasn’t about to turn you down. 
“Ngh your mouth feels so perfect. Wanna fuck it…” 
You pull back with a gasp, catching air wherever you can get it with your fiancé’s suffocating girth, nodding while you pump him in your hands. Your lips are spread for him then so he can thrust through them himself, staring down at your teary eyes while he sets a rhythm down your throat. 
You’re quickly gagging, he’s thick but also long and he’ll choke you if you’re not careful. But the relief he brings is worth it. Your craving for him didn't let up this morning even after a creampie and some cockwarming—this is just what you needed. 
He throws his head back when he’s getting close, fingers gripping at your hair but careful not to tug, and he does this cute little whine that has your pussy throbbing. So you touch yourself, too—some fingers to your clit in little circles have you toppling over the edge just in time to match your fiancé, swallowing his milky cum while his last batch leaks down your thighs, mixed with your own release. 
He’s panting when you pull away, eyes open but unfocused while the fog in his brain clears, his hand stroking your head absentmindedly. When he finally comes back to earth, he finds you’ve pulled his boxers up for him but remain clinging to his leg, squishing a cheek against his hip while fingers trace his inner thigh. 
He breathes out a little hooo.
“Did so good for me, pretty. Okay. Now I really gotta go.” 
He tries to take a step but you don’t budge, so he bends to see you better, making an expression of dumbfounded horror when he sees you’re crying. 
“Hey, hey—I’ll be back! What’s with the tears!” 
You sniffle while his big hands wipe at your face, frantic as he tries to make you better. Ijichi’s pacing footsteps are heard outside the door. 
“I don’t know, it just feels so—sniff—bad when you leave sometimes! I still want more of you!” 
Gojo frowns at that, rubbing your head some more. There’s a knock at the door which he ignores. 
“Baby… I want more of you too, but you know I gotta go. No days off when you’re the strongest. Can you be my tough girl, just a few hours?” 
You nod, your breaths calming. What is getting into you? Apparently your separation anxiety can’t even let your fiancé go to work without a break down. It takes you a minute to connect the dots and realize you’re likely ovulating—your hormones can make you a little crazy sometimes. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“My pretty baby wants to be a mommy so bad, huh?” 
“I do! I really do, Satoru!” Your voice is a sob. Satoru has been going at it since the moment he came home today—told the maids to leave him alone, locked his door and folded you into the mattress.
“Gonna make me a daddy?” You clench automatically—just like Satoru knew you would. 
“Ye—ah! Wanna have your babies, need to give you babies so bad, daddy!” 
Your neck is craned as far back into the pillows as it can go, your entire body curling in ecstasy from your cousin’s heavy thrusting. Your words have his movements turning frantic, your legs folded up by his shoulders so your silver anklet with his name on it can jingle by his ear. Satoru lifts you then, utilizing his ridiculous strength and huge hands to pull your hips higher where his cock can split you easier.  He starts hitting so deep you see stars. 
Your head tends to scramble and slow when he fucks you like this, eyes barely open, blindly clinging to the man you were born to cling to while he makes a home for himself near your womb. It’s hard to focus on him like you want to, but if you did you’d see eyes drunk on lust and power…
Satoru Gojo can be a greedy man. Spoiled, too—He usually already owns what he covets and never waits long for things he doesn’t. But even the world at his fingertips, you at his fingertips, doesn’t fully sait that want like most would expect. For example, as much as Satoru owns you, he doesn’t feel he really has you until your body’s fucked out of commission in his grip, eyes blank and stupid while your cunt spasms around him, milking his cock for everything he has. 
This is when he’s got you, he thinks. This is when you’re his, like putty in his fingers, warmed up and malleable. This is when everything’s how it’s really supposed to be. 
The two of you don’t come out of satoru’s room the entire rest of the night, except when Satoru darts his hands out of his doorway to grab trays of food the servants dropped by. It’s exhausting the way you’re used, body split and bent and bruised so that satoru’s seed can take root, but it’s also addicting. You beg for more of him, latch any remaining strength onto his limbs while you cry out his name. Satoru’s cock is addictive in a natural way—stronger than any drugs. Your betrothed’s cock is addicting like food and water and air… sometimes it’s the only thing that makes you feel alive. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Today marks the day you’re officially seven months pregnant. 
Despite the fact that your technique has you strong and glowing (this is what you were made for, everyone continues to insist), you spend much of your time in mild discomfort. You get the feeling satoru’s passed his ridiculously long legs to his baby, who’s adamant in kicking you constantly, plus your lower back is often sore.
Still, you go about your daily life as normal—lounging, eating, making infinite baby preparations and, of course, waiting for satoru to come home so he can fuck you. 
Lately your husband is the ultimate harbinger of gifts and treats—your pregnancy has been the opposite of helpful towards satoru’s impulse spending habits, not that it’s too great a concern with the family’s bottomless wealth. He rarely comes home empty handed. Today, he’s brought a teensy yellow beanie he apparently stumbled upon at a shop and some artisan ikigai strawberries—a favorite of yours amidst pregnancy cravings—satoru’s encouraging his child’s expensive taste that’s for sure. 
You’re currently spooning in bed to enjoy them, watching a cheesy hallmark movie while satoru feeds you bites—he’s focusing much more on you than the movie. 
Honestly, he doesn’t seem to focus on much else when he’s home at all… he finds pregnant you to be more than captivating. It’s like he could watch you day and night, doing the most mundane tasks to nothing at all—in his own words he’s fascinated by how precious you manage to be. Eyes following you like you’re the most engrossing little thing, cooing to himself when you’re particularly cute. It reminds you of how you used to treat your pet cat growing up. 
You’ve gotten used to the excessive attention and coddling—it’s not like you’d ever mind a little clinging, nor was satoru’s babying completely foreign in the first place. So you let him feed you without comment, enjoy his hands wandering over your belly and curves without fanfare. 
This process quickly gets messy though; red juice keeps dripping from the corner of your mouth towards your pillow only to be saved in the nick of time by satoru’s quick fingers, reaching around to wipe at your cheek again and again, having you lick his fingers clean for him each time he does. Things get even messier once he gets the bright idea to split each berry, biting before offering you the other half. 
“I like sharing with you, this way neither of us miss the best ones.” He says with his mouth partially full, reaching down to pop part of a berry into your mouth. You hum, mostly engrossed in your film, managing not to drool this time. 
But the next bite of berry he performs directly over your neck, dripping juice directly onto your skin when he does.
“Hey!” You start to turn but he holds you in place on your side, darting down to lick up the spill with his tongue. 
You whine when he does, sensitive skin set ablaze by your lover’s mouth. 
The movie is forgotten when things easily pick up from there—things easily pick up between the two of you, period. It’s not even your first time having sex today, you took his cock first thing in the morning after a particularly needy grinding display. 
But this time it’s extra slow, extra attentive—like Gojo’s savoring you to the fullest extent. The berries are an added component, dripping sweet juice on your skin once gojo fully undresses you, only for him to lick and suck and kiss you clean. Your pussy has his attention then for what feels like eternity, your husband’s soft lips kissing and kissing and kissing like he needs to clean your juices there too. You cum so easily—you always have, but pregnant and sensitive like this your rate is almost ridiculous. Satoru, adoring as he’s been lately, doesn’t even tease, just savors. Dotes and flexes his cuteness aggression through his careful arms. He’s cautious with that—his urge to squeeze you—thinks he ought to get a medal for the self control he has to be soft. He caresses and pets like you’re a newborn yourself, fucking you just as thoughtfully. 
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You’d only been alive ten short months the day the earth shifted upon Satoru’s birth. Of course you don’t remember it, but you know intimately well the way your own path was no exception to his influence. You were already confirmed to have a fertility technique, almost as rare as the six eyes themselves, when the strongest sorcerer of your time was born—the match up was obvious. You were groomed for it until his parents said yes, and then only more intensely once they did.
And as much as you love Satoru, as much as you’d live for him and die for him and anything in between—it was sometimes hard. You had to grow to love him, to accept his power over you. 
Because among the list of cons to a lifetime betrothal—a lifetime of devotion in your case—was that Satoru always knew you were his. You had an owner at the ripe age of seven, aged six and a half. 
And, unbelievable as it may be in hindsight, at times he was a tyrant. 
Tugging and clinging and pushing—at first he had as much respect for you as a child might for a cheap toy (the kind their well-off parents taught them were replaceable). 
And there wasn’t much you could do about it besides grieve and sulk—your parents didn’t let you talk back how you wanted, and Satoru wasn’t above tattling. 
You didn’t dare wish for a different husband—what with how lucky everyone insisted you were, but at times you’d wonder. What would it be like to be assigned someone polite and thoughtful, like satoru’s friend he brought around the estate from time to time…
Suguru never really got to know you enough to form an opinion on your character. It was rare he visited the extravagant Gojo estate in the first place, and when he did, Satoru often gave the impression that he wanted to keep you private. It was clear you were a permanent fixture on those grounds—just another layer to Satoru’s mystifying lifestyle. You were a complete contrast to Suguru’s friend, all reserved and polite; the only thing you really inspired Geto to feel was pity. 
Gojo was a little shit as a kid—still is in many ways—and sometimes even Geto himself couldn’t stand him. But Suguru’s always had a backbone. There was a reason he was capable of maintaining best friend status with the strongest sorcerer alive while others couldn’t (or wouldn’t) get close—and it’s that Geto knew how to tell Satoru off. He could see through Gojo’s dramatics and put him in his place—something you clearly had not mastered.
Geto saw your lenience first hand the first day Satoru tried to have the three of you hangout, watching in fascination as you protested, gave in, and then were immediately reprimanded for sneaking into a forbidden wing of the Gojo estate. Satoru got a mild scolding, a barely-there stern edge to the maid’s voice who caught the three of you—telling him that he knew better and that he had to think about his future wife’s safety as well as his own. You got a cold glare when the maid set sights on you, a tug of your wrist to your room where it was clear you’d go on to get a firm lesson on obedience. 
Once you were gone, Suguru spoke to Satoru in a hushed tone. “I feel kinda bad your girlfriend’s getting locked up now. Aren’t you gonna do something?” 
“She’s not my girlfriend, asshole!”
“You’re getting married someday. Same thing.” 
“It’s totally different. But whatever, yeah, I feel a little bad too. Probably I’ll break her out of her room later,” Geto watched Gojo absentmindedly pick a fuzz off his shirt—not a care in the world before he perked up to add, “Right now let’s play tekken.” 
And they did, but soon Geto brought you up again. This was the first time he’d met you, and really begun conceptualizing the situation Gojo was in—he couldn’t imagine being tied to someone like that at his ripe and girlfriend-less age of thirteen. The idea fascinated him.
“What’s it like, living with ___?”
“It’s fine,” Satoru sighed, going back and forth between different characters to try. “She’s annoying—got some needy physical touch technique so she’s always clinging to me in my sleep, it’s honestly creepy. But it’s fine.” 
This took Geto moment to process… 
“You sleep in the same bed?!” He put his controller down at that point, fully engrossed. 
“Yeah, ‘cause of her technique she’s like, unable to sleep alone basically. It’s weird. But other than that she’s fine I guess—a little slow. Her parents won’t even put her in school.” 
Suguru could think of so many questions he didn’t even know where to start. 
But what stood out most was how Satoru remained calm about the whole thing, at peace even. 
“Have you tried fighting it? Didn’t you say your mom does whatever you want? Tell her no.” 
Satoru waved a lazy hand at Suguru before he even finished talking.
“That wouldn’t work, ___ would just get betrothed to someone else, then. Her parents really want that for her. ‘Sides, she’s mine, Y’know? Even if she’s a weirdo it’s not like I’d give her away.”
It’s been years now since Suguru Geto has seen you last—he hasn’t been back to the Gojo estate since before his enrollment in jujutsu tech. He’s changed a lot since his starry-eyed youth, and he vaguely wonders what it will be like to see you again, if you’ve changed as well; over the years he’s found that his friend prefers to bring you up as little as possible, so he hasn’t had many updates. Though his primary focus is on the man he’s escorting, a dizzy and bleeding Gojo Satoru who managed to get hit by a scorpion curse while they were messing around on their mission. Gojo insisted on heading home after, despite shoko’s offer to provide more thorough reversed technique than his own, frowning but easily relenting when Suguru insisted on at least helping him get there. 
It’s late, not even staff around to notice as Suguru tugs Gojo along, supporting half the man’s weight through the threshold and fumbling to find light switches as he enters new rooms. But then you emerge, and Suguru can’t pick his jaw up off the ground when you do, this heavily pregnant girl in a frilly nightgown and bare feet, storming in with tears absolutely pouring down her face. After one heartfelt “Satoru!” you can’t manage to get out a single sentence you’re crying so hard, and Suguru watches the most mystifying thing: Satoru comforts you. His unserious asshole of a best friend (he thinks with fondness in his heart), a man who’s long since lost the will to show vulnerability in even the most gut-wrenching moments—Suguru watches as he meets you with this sympathetic, earnest frown on his face, crouching to let you hold him and mumbling little sorry’s. 
Suguru isn’t sure what they’re for, but he does know that Satoru has never seriously apologized to him for anything in his life. He’s expressed regret, learned from some mistakes, sure. But the word sorry, as far as Suguru knew, wasn’t in Gojo’s vocabulary. 
He says it a lot now, with this cooing voice that Suguru also finds foreign. He learns through some mumbled words you manage that your tears are from worry, that gojo promised he’d be home earlier and that he wasn’t answering his phone. Then your wails turn fresh when you notice gojo is bleeding. 
“Baby this is literally nothing—“ Geto, who saw Gojo’s initial wound and can actually see the man swaying on his feet, almost chuckles. He saves it with a cough. 
“—I basically already healed myself. You know nothing could ever happen to me.” 
This makes you mad, Suguru can practically feel how your anger tinges the air. 
“Satoru Gojo I do not know that and—hic—you’d do better to answer your phone next time!”
“Ahh yes ma’am, yes ma’am.”
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That secret filing cabinet in your mind rattles from time to time when you reach your ninth month pregnant. You’ve somehow managed to stave off any ill second thoughts towards your fate till now, letting it hit you last minute like something you’ve been putting off. It’s not that you’re unready for motherhood—you’ve reached acceptance of what’s to come—but you’ve developed a slight fear of your own personal eternity being reached. Slight because you’re excellent at burying and vaulting—slight because you love satoru and your baby so deeply. 
But around your nine month marker, sore and barely even able to fuck properly, your husband makes an off-handed remark. You’d just taken him on all fours, cumming so easily despite satoru’s unusually tame treatment, and were laying in the aftershocks with sticky thighs while satoru fetched you a warm washcloth. The bath water was also running loudly, so he had to speak up while he said, “I’m gonna look to see how soon an in-ground pool could be installed, bet it’d be good for your poor hips next time you’re pregnant.” He speaks while he opens up your legs, casually wiping your shared mess clean with a soft damp towel, like he has a million times. 
Maybe you’re tired, maybe it’s his casual tone paired with such a ludicrous sentence, but the idea of buying  a pool because of what should be temporary pregnancy ailments and the implication that you’ll have them again and again… it sends you in a spiral. 
It’s not unusual for you to burst into tears with your wacky hormones—satoru’s seen your puffy crying face, especially while pregnant, more times than he could count. So he isn’t particularly alarmed when he sees the silent drops rolling down your cheeks when he returns from the laundry shoot a moment later. But he is concerned, crawling up the bed till he’s hovering to kiss your shoulder, scooting behind you to spoon your lightly shaking frame. 
He doesn’t talk for a moment, trying to decide the best course of action. He’s familiar with the tears, sure, but he knows he’s not an expert on them, sometimes he tries to talk to them when he shouldn’t and vice versa. 
Eventually he settles on a little “I got you,” for comfort, his warm hands rubbing over your arms then your belly in what he hopes is a soothing rhythm. 
You think about telling him your issues, your deepest secrets, but you deliberate too long. Soon he’s kissing you again, pressing lips in a slow trail up your shoulder and neck before switching directions. 
“I love you,” he adds. 
You won’t tell him. You love him, too. The uck and grime of it all gets buried once again, shoved in the section of your head that stays locked up with high security. You turn around and, instead of answering, capture his lips in a salty kiss, the kind that starts out soft and clumsy—sweet. It doesn’t take long for your lips to get needy though, for the sweetness to be replaced with aching. The kind that always spreads between your thighs. 
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Thanks for reading eeeek! feedback and rbs appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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mx-pastelwriting · 19 hours
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Back to you
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(Post-War) Cooper Howard x GN! Reader
Summary: Splitting from the ghoul bounty hunter just for him to appear again, just like last time.
Warnings: Argument, Guns, Held at gunpoint, Blood, Violence, Slight Soft Cooper
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Dragging along through the barren desert, hearing the continuous sound of Cooper's gun hitting his leg, not resting for hours with the sun eating away at your skin, slowly losing your shit only a few feet away from him. 
Finally, your knees gave out, plating you on the ground, the thump drawing the attention of the ghoul, who stopped just to sigh. "Come on, get up," he says flatly, anger bubbling. "I can't" is all you could say with a dry throat. 
"Get up, or I'm leaving ya" He responds more sternly, annoyed at his uncaring tone, snapping back, "Then leave!" watching as he turned around without another word and did just that. 
Cooper knew your limit for more than a year, yet he ignored it, at times leaving you dehydrated or in the heat for days, all from forgetting human needs. Swearing under your breath at times, it was on purpose to always have to rely on him.
Watching as he slowly disappeared in the distance with the sun starting to set, allowing you to get up to find shelter, parting your ways with the ghoul. Having fought a few days before over a deal gone wrong, blaming you of course, but swearing his gun went off first. The fight being one of many breaking points. 
Coming upon a still-standing house, making your way in ready to shoot at anything that moved, luckily only a few radroaches sprang up, leaving you to relax. The house looked as if it was trapped in time, as if not one person had been in it since. Shaking off that eerie fact before laying down on the stiff couch, needing to rest only for a moment, making sure to keep your gun close. 
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Waking to the feeling of cold metal pressed against your head, opening your eyes to a man covered in dirt in blood. Definitely from the wasteland. "Get up," he says, anger filling his tone, doing so slowly with arms raised. A crashing boom pulled the moment's tenseness to the front door.
"He's not here," the new man says, causing the other to look back over to you. "Where's the ghoul?" asking with the same angered voice. "Who?" you answer, pulling off the best-confused face you could manage. 
Not having any of it, he pistol whips you, face turned, he asks you again. "Maybe they don't know," the other man says, interrupting the interrogation. Having his attention drawn away again, you grab his gun fighting for it, keeping it pointed away from you while trying to pry it away. 
Losing the fight as he pulled the trigger, paining your ears, hearing only rigging while being pushed to the ground with a kick. Watching through blurred vision, his mouth moves with no sound, only the sight of the gun being pointed at you once again, then his head being blown apart. 
Feeling footsteps against the wooden floor that had now been covered in brain matter before being peeled from it and out the door. Taking a peek at your savior, seeing a familiar cowboy hat and stern face, a smile grew on your face, knowing once again he had come back to you.
Making it to the small camp that had been not too far from where you were abandoned just before sunrise, sitting on a worn pullout chair close to him, still smiling like an idiot. "I knew you'd come back for me," you say, watching a smile appear on his face in the darkness.
"Heard a gunshot it sounded like fun, darling, that's all." He tries to play it off, but you continue, "Whatever helps you sleep, Coop." Having traveled with him for so long, having many fights, then splitting up just for him to show back up every time as if he couldn't help coming back to you.
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Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @emoguardian
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blackypanther9 · 2 days
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Over my dead body ! – Father!Alastor x Son!Reader
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WARNING!: Mention of drugs, cursing, name calling, Alcohol, mention of attempted murder AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!
A/N: Yay ! Mimzy is back... *Note sarcasm* By the way this happened shortly after Alastor was healthy again. So M/n was still the same age as the last chapter. (Art belongs to rightful owner)
TAGLIST: @l0liamk @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @moiravim @meg-giry1 @wen01203
After Alastor was cured from his sickness and back on the job, he planned to go to Mimzy’s again, for a little conversation and some good old rye. He told M/n about it and he pretended to be happy, but he wasn't thrilled at all.
So he decided to do this for his Father only ONCE and then NEVER again. Mimzy was a Bitch.
At first the night at the Club went by superbly. But as soon as Mimzy wasn’t on stage anymore, she crawled over to him and Alastor.
“Alastor ! Long time no see, sweetheart ! Where have ya been ?!”, she asked happily.
“Oh you know, M/n got poisoned and almost killed last time we were here, so I decided to let a bit of grass grow over it and then I got sick ! Haha ! Where are ya at, these days, Mimzy, Dear ?”, Alastor asked.
M/n put on his fakest smile to please his Papa. He wanted to stab Mimzy.
She started to tell him all about what happened since he stopped coming for a while. Honestly...two years weren’t enough in M/n’s opinion... At some point Mimzy went to get Alastor and M/n a drink. His Papa looked at the boy.
“Remember Cher, what I drink is nothing for you. You are too young for it.”, the Radio Host reminded his Son.
“Yes, Papa. I remember.”
“Good boy.”
It wasn’t long until Mimzy came back, but she looked way too smug and excited as she gave Alastor his drink. M/n knew something was wrong, so he accidentally spilled his own drink.
“Oh no !”, M/n gasped in horror.
Alastor set his drink down quickly, not taking a sip and helped to dry the table. Nothing was left in his glass anymore and M/n gave his Father a pleading look.
“I-I’m sorry Papa. My hand was shaky and I must have lost my grip...”, he said in shame.
“It’s alright, Cher. Don’t worry your little head over it, it happens !”
The Radio Host looked at Mimzy.
“Mimzy, Dear ?”
“Yes, Al ?”
“Can you please get new napkins, while I will order a new drink for M/n ?”
“Of course, suga !”, she said and left.
“Can I have a hot chocolate, Papa ?”, M/n asked softly.
“Of course you can, Dear ! I’ll be right back, don’t leave the table !”
“I won’t.”, M/n promised, crossing his fingers behind his back.
“Good. I’ll be off !”
And with that Alastor was gone too. As soon as they were both out of sight, M/n snatched his Father’s drink and eyed it. He sniffed rye before and had a sip of it once too, thanks to his abusive parents that forced him to indulge in such. As soon as he looked at the rye, it looked off. He knew what Alastor loved for a type of rye and it was the one, sure, but the color looked a bit...off.
The boy looked around in the Club and spotted someone he knew. He got up and rushed over to the table with his Papa’s drink in his hand.
“Cole ! Cole !”, M/n called.
The man turned around and a wide smile split his face.
“M/n ! What are you doing here ?!”, he greeted back.
Cole McGenzy was another nice Coworker in his Father’s Radio Station. He was glad he found a familiar face.
“I’m here with Papa. But I need your help.”
“With what, Kiddo ?”
M/n gave the man Alastor’s drink.
“Some woman brought it to Papa and seemed awfully smug and excited about it for him to drink it. Could you give it a taste and tell me if it might have been a bad glass ? It’s supposed to be Papa’s favorite rye.”
The man chuckled and took the glass.
“Always looking out for Alastor, I see.”
“He decided to look after me when no one else did and I want to return the favor.”, M/n said shyly.
The man ruffled the boy’s hair and took a swig of Alastor’s glass of rye. For a while nothing happened.
“I think it’s fi-....oh Lord...”, the man suddenly grunted.
“Cole ? What’s wrong ?”, M/n asked worried.
“Ah...nothing, Kiddo. The drink was spiked though. Try to keep an eye out for Alastor tonight, yeah ?”
“O-okay. Are you sure you are alright ?”
“I am, kid. Just...go back to your table and keep watch, yeah ? I need to return home now.”
“O-okay...”
Cole got up, covering his crotch and then left, with a few dollars on the table he sat at. M/n returned to his own table, confused and worried. He swiped his Father’s spiked drink from the table, shattering the glass on the floor and acted like he didn’t do it. First Mimzy tried to kill him, now she tried to hurt his Papa...
‘Game on, Bitch...’, M/n thought darkly.
Soon enough Alastor returned with a hot chocolate for M/n. He looked around confused as he saw his drink missing and looked at his Son.
“M/n ? Do you know where my glass of rye went ?”
“Some drunk man swiped it off of the table, it is on the floor with shattered glass. You told me not to move, so I stayed here instead of leaving and looking for you.”, M/n lied swiftly.
Alastor didn’t seem to pick up on it as he nodded with his smile a bit more dim than before. He called over a waitress and asked for a glass of rye again, which she promptly noted down and rushed off to get for him. Mimzy came back, as the waiter was on the run to the bar, with napkins.
“I’m baaaack~!”
‘Please leave again and never come back, Bitch.’, M/n thought sourly.
“Hello and welcome back, Mimzy !”, Alastor greeted her.
She sat down with them again and they continued to talk. Cups of chocolate and glasses of rye later and they finally left the bar, going back home. M/n wanted to tell his Papa about the spiked drink and that it was Mimzy...but he didn’t have the heart to destroy his Papa’s trust like that with someone he knew longer than M/n. So he stayed silent, for now.
“Where did I put my keys ?”, Alastor asked confused the next week on Friday.
He searched high and low for his house keys in his Radio office. M/n looked at his Papa with worry.
“I don’t know, Papa. Maybe you misplaced them ?”
“Perhaps I did... It seems like we won’t be going to Mimzy’s after all tonight.”, Alastor sighed in sadness.
M/n felt bad, but no way in Hell will he ever allow his Father back there.
The next day Alastor planned to go to Mimzy’s again and M/n already knew how to avoid that. They were at the Radio Station and on Saturday’s Alastor only has 5 hours to work, instead of 9 to 12 hours. His work usually started at 6 in the morning and ended 18 o’ clock or even later. Why so long ? Because Alastor was mixed, he came from the Bayou, his previous Boss didn’t like him and the one he had currently wanted him to stay until night so she can try and get into his pants and because he brought a lot of money in. Did they pay him more for the ridiculous long hours ? Barely.
M/n emptied his Father’s left coat pocket, which held his car and house keys. He took them out and then told his Father softly that he was relieving his bladder, which the Radio Host dismissed him for.
Then M/n left and hid the car keys in a supply closet from three, behind a few cleaning supplies and the house keys he placed somewhere on the floor, almost behind a small shoe closet in the hallways, barely possible to be spotted. Then he returned.
-At the end of Alastor’s shift-
“Blazes ! Where are the car keys ?!”, Alastor huffed out in frustration as he continued to search for them.
“I don’t know, Papa. Where did you see them last ?”, M/n asked gently.
“Cher, they were lastly in my coat pocket. In my left one, like always.”
The boy looked at his Father for a while in concern.
“Are you sure they were there last ? Otherwise I am worried that someone stole them.”, M/n said softly.
Alastor growled in frustration.
“Are you sure, you didn’t take them and play me a fool, Son ?”
“I promise, I didn’t touch them, Pa.”, M/n swore.
Alastor couldn’t detect a lie in his Son’s voice either. Usually it wavered in nerves, but not this time... The adult sighed.
“Go to Tony while I am hunting down the keys, Cher. They have to be somewhere.”, the adult muttered, his smile wavering.
“Alright, Pa...”
M/n left and went for his Uncle’s office. He was off air for a while now and probably packed up to leave. Alastor searched for almost 2 hours now and couldn’t find his house and car keys. M/n felt bad, yet at the same time, it was funny.
Soon enough he entered Tony’s office and he spotted Francisco with Peter and Cole in there too. M/n waved gently.
“Apologies, if I interrupted you four... Papa sent me.”, M/n gently said.
“Come on in, Kiddo !”, Tony encouraged.
The boy carefully entered and shut the door.
“What did your Father sent you here for ?”, Peter asked.
“He can’t find his house and car keys so he sent me to Tony to be watched over, until he found them.”
Cole gave M/n a suspicious look.
“You made them disappear, didn’t you, M/n ?”, the man asked after a while.
The boy froze and stared at Cole, while the other three men looked at him in curiosity.
“I did no such thing.”, M/n denied with a wavering voice.
“Liar.”, Peter stated.
“Why would you do that to Alastor, M/n ?”, Tony asked with disappointment in his voice.
M/n looked down in shame.
“I....”, the boy couldn’t get it out.
Cole’s eyes widened as he recalled their last encounter in a speakeasy.
“Is it because of last week ? The spiked drink your Father received ?”, the adult asked.
The other three men snapped their heads to Cole, staring at him in shock.
“What ?!”, Peter yelled in shock.
“Excuse me ?!”, Francisco choked out.
“Mind repeating that ?!”, Tony yelled.
M/n flinched and nodded gently. Cole saw that and had a weird feeling in his gut.
“Do you know who did it ?”, Cole asked.
“Y-yes...”
“Did you tell Alastor ?”
“N-no...”
“Why not ?”, Tony asked now.
“Because that person is one of his friends. He knows them longer and I don’t want to ruin his trust and openness by telling him.”
There was silence for a while.
“You told me it was a woman, who looked way too smug as she gave him his drink.”, Cole pointed out.
“A woman too...”, Tony wheezed out in shock.
“What’s her name ?”, Francisco asked gently.
M/n looked at them and took a deep breath.
“Her name is Mimzy. She owns the speakeasy joint, if that’s true. She performs there as a singer and dancer too. She is pretty short and her voice isn’t all that great, but she is Papa’s friend. She brought him the spiked drink, smugly.”, M/n explained.
“Do you really think it was her then ?”, Peter asked.
“It wouldn’t surprise me.”, M/n replied dryly.
“Why ?”, Tony asked in concern.
The four boys could tell there was something M/n didn’t tell them. He looked at them in slight worry.
“Don’t tell Papa, please.”
“We promise we won’t. Now spill the tea.”, Cole assured.
M/n took a deep breath and then nodded.
“I think Tony remembers when Papa told him that I was once poisoned and by some miracle survived it until the next day and then Dr. Hugo pumped out my stomach, right ?”
The men nodded.
“Who didn’t hear it ? We were all worried sick.”, Francisco stated.
“But that happened two years ago. What does this have to do with anything ?”, Peter asked in confusion.
“Well....I never told Papa that I knew who did it. I met Mimzy for the first time two years ago, as I was 9 years old. She faked to be happy to meet me and we both pretended to get along in front of Papa, but as soon as he left for the bathroom, we both started to hiss at each other. She started it and called me a runt that Papa took in out of pity. I back talked and called her a Bitch. She told me that Papa belonged to her and threatened me that if I don’t disappear out of his life, she will make sure he will get rid of me. I threatened her back and told her that I will tell him everything and I never lied before, so who did she think Papa would believe. Sometime later she brought me my last glass of juice and it tasted different than any other the next day I felt really terrible and told Papa about the drink, he panicked and called Dr. Hugo and he wanted me as fast as possible in the hospital. After they pumped out my stomach I felt very weak, but better. My recovery took a bit, but it was alright.”, M/n shortly explained.
The four men stared at him, gob smacked.
“You should have told him.”, Cole stated darkly.
“I don’t want him to cut everyone off he is close with. He seems very close with Mimzy. Can you imagine, after he cut her off entirely, what will happen to you all ? He might be very distant and dismissive to you all. I don’t want that.”, M/n reasoned.
“He has a point. Al would do that.”, Tony deadpanned.
“We didn’t go there for these two years and last week was the first time in a while.”, M/n said.
“And she tried to pull something on Alastor this time...”, Peter added, getting the image.
M/n nodded.
“That’s why I make his things disappear, or just cause Papa to be unable to attend to the speakeasy. I don’t want this...harlot...to hurt my Father. I would never be able to live with myself !”
The men looked at each other and then nodded and looked back at M/n.
“Then count us in for all your mischief next time. We will help.”, Tony stated.
“Even if we have to go with Al to the speakeasy.”, Francisco added.
“Yo-you guys would ?”, M/n asked in awe.
“Of course we would. We may not be very big on giggle water, but one or two glasses hurt no one. Mostly not with friends.”, Peter told M/n happily.
“Also drinking with Alastor doesn’t sound so bad. And if we keep an eye on him anyways, why not ?”, Cole stated with a smile of his own.
“You guys are the best.”, M/n told them with a big smile.
“For Al, always. This man is such a gem.”, Tony chuckled out.
“Then I need your help today. Help me to keep Papa away from the speakeasy today. If you need help with anything, just get my Father. I am not ready to see Mimzy this soon again.”, M/n said.
“Leave that whole mess to us, Kiddo. Now let us help your Father to find his key sets.”
“The car keys are in the second supply closet in the main hallway, behind a window cleaner spray bottle and the house keys I put on the floor and shoved very close to the big shoe closet. They are hard to spot and almost behind the damn thing.”, M/n informed them.
“Noted. Let’s go boys.”, Cole said and pulled Peter with Francisco out of the office.
“Promise me that you will continue to look out for Alastor, M/n, okay ?”, Tony pleaded gently.
“I will never let my eyes stray from Papa.”, M/n swore.
“Good to hear, Kid.”
Alastor’s coat pockets had holes in them the next week. That just couldn’t do, so he had to go the tailor, who told him the unfortunate news that his favorite coat needed a few hours to be repaired. At least it wasn’t a day.
M/n snipped small holes into the Coat pockets and then pulled some loose threads, making the holes bigger and seem more natural. Alastor barely had his hands in his pockets so he couldn’t tell the difference, he could only suspect that his keys must have been stuck once or twice in his pockets and they caused the holes.
The day after that Alastor couldn’t go to the speakeasy, because Tony needed his help at his own home, to set up a new shelf, because his old one ‘broke’. Tony told M/n that he destroyed his own shelf just to get Alastor to come and help him with a new one.
The next time Alastor wanted to visit Mimzy, his dress pants ripped at the crotch area. M/n pulled some loose threats and it seemed that Alastor really believed that his pants were just a bit too old. Another visit to the tailor and again no Mimzy.
This went on and on for months. The Radio Host barely saw Mimzy. The few times he did see her, or got to the speakeasy was rare and he never came alone. Tony and Peter either came with him, wanting to let off some steam too with him, or Cole and Francisco went with him or M/n went with him or M/n and someone else from the four men went with him or just one of the four men walked with him. Alastor found it a bit suspicious, but he never minded it and brushed it off.
What the adult never noticed, was how the few times he was there, anything that happened on accident, was purely intended. Suddenly Peter spilled his own drink and Alastor rushed off to get some napkins and as soon as he returned Al’s drink was gone. Either it was on the floor, shattered, it fell over or the glass was just empty.
Whenever Tony was with the Radio Host, he had a few nerve problems and could fake them a bit. A shaky hand or a jolting leg was perfect. When he saw Mimzy smirking smugly, he already knew the drink for Alastor was spiked, so he jolted his knee so hard against the table that the drinks spilled over and he apologized each time in shame, mentioning his nerve problem. It was long cured but he never told anyone, he can still fake it well.
Francisco pretended to try and kill a fly, or another small bug he saw, and ‘accidently’ swiped Alastor’s drink over.
And Cole usually was such a savage that he snatched Al’s drink and just gulped it down. Claiming that he wanted to get a raise out of Alastor, which he never got. The adult didn’t even seem annoyed, just amused.
M/n tried everything and anything as soon as he knew the drink was spiked. They let Alastor at least once a month go to Mimzy’s, if they felt generous. There were times they kept him away from the joint for three months.
Over M/n’s dead body will Mimzy ever get a chance to drug his Father. This little Bitch wanted a war ? Now she had it.
Game. Fucking. On.
And M/n seemed to win.
Masterlist HERE !
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Text
Day Zero
chapter 5: The one where everything is still difficult
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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader
summary: It is hard to convince a man that you are telling the truth. You want him to finally trust you and let you stay. If he wasn't so stubborn and… drunk.
tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol
author's note: I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. I'm not proud of it, but I think that finally the story becomes more interesting and you will like it.
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Chapter 5: The one where everything is still difficult
Day 732
Sounds coming from the kitchen get your attention. No. Smells. You involuntarily feel yourself drooling. The burping in your stomach intensifies.
Your mind is in high gear and all you can think about now is food, hunger. Thirst.
You have eaten so little for days. You have tried to ration and preserve as long as possible the rations you took on the trip. You had no luck and didn't find much fresh food along the way. You only found a few cans. Not to mention a warm, home-cooked meal. It's probably been months since you last managed to heat something up. Not to mention cooking. And you used to love spending time in the kitchen, buying and trying new ingredients, testing brand new dishes.
“Thank you for the possibility to take a bath.... And for the rest of the things.”
You stand on the threshold of the kitchen, speaking uncertainly. You step from foot to foot. The man stands with his back turned to you, clearly preoccupied with something. He just waves his hand, indicating with his finger for you to sit down on a stool by the kitchen island. 
As you sit down, you notice Riley standing against the wall, greedily eating what Ghost has put into a large silver bowl. The dog doesn't even stop eating for a moment to look at you.
You look around the kitchen, which, like the hallway and bathroom, is dimly lit, with only the light above the countertops. Only where Ghost is standing is it bright enough. The rest of the room is plunged into semi-darkness. While waiting for any interaction with the man, you curiously look around the room. As in the adjacent room you were in shortly after you arrived, there are all sorts of things arranged in towers on each shelf. Mainly food. Cans, jars, packages of dry food. Everything evenly and neatly stacked.  
“I made tea.”
The man breaks the silence, puts a mug of hot brew in front of you
“T-tea?"
You exhale something like a squeak, you did not want to sound like this, however, you are very surprised. But God, warm tea? You had already forgotten that such a thing existed. Since you had a hard time finding drinkable water, you did nothing but simply sip to quench your thirst.
You immediately grab the ear of the cup, put it to your lips and drink, it's nothing that the hot drink steams your mouth, tongue, esophagus. Out of greed and thirst, you quickly drink the entire contents of the cup. You wipe your wet mouth with your hand.
“Thank you.”
Sighing loudly, you set the cup down on the countertop, looking at the man again. Another long moment of silence passes. The man still stands with his back turned to you. Unwittingly, your gaze falls on him. You admire how he moves with graceful and delicate movements in a tight space of the kitchen.
It's a rather peculiar sight, considering his physique. He is a tall and broad, well-built man. Now you can get a better look at him, although he still wears a dingy balaclava on his head, covering his face, hair and neck. He is not wearing a full uniform. His broad shoulders and muscular arms lightly cling to a long-sleeved black cotton shirt. To you, even without all the military equipment, Ghost's silhouette is intimidating. It causes an unpleasant squeezing in your stomach and a quickened pulse. You still don't know what to expect from him. According to you, he is unpredictable.
A pleasant smell that spreads more and more in the kitchen catches your attention, some spices, think rosemary, pepper, sour tomatoes, maybe mushrooms. and yes, you definitely smell fried blood meat.
It's just too much.
You close your eyes for a moment, hoping that you're about to smell the food that creates such an unusual and delicious aroma. The burbling in your stomach intensifies, probably the tea you drank has awakened your empty digestive system from lethargy.
“Eat.”
A large, deep plate filled to the brim with food lands in front of you.
Stew.
Potatoes and meat. You shake your head in disbelief.
Have you made it to heaven? Is this some kind of reward for two years of uneven and hard struggle with yourself to survive?
“Thank you... Ghost.. for everything.”
You swallow your saliva loudly.
This is probably the best meal you've ever had. The meat is tender, the vegetables are slightly firm, the whole thing is lightly seasoned, the sauce is delicate, so you can feel every flavor and texture.
“It's just food.”
Ghost burbles, sitting down across from you, and begins to eat.
“After dinner, we need to talk.”
You don't think you've eaten a meal this fast in your entire life. If the man wanted to convince you with this or apologize for his behavior. Then you don't mind if he rewards you every night for his behavior toward you in this way.
The house is big, really huge.  One that could house a multi-generational family. After a meal, or rather after eating two portions, Ghost led you to another room on the other side of the house. A small one in which most of the space is taken up by a large desk.  The man takes one of the maps stacked on one of the bookcases against the wall and places it on the desk. He sits down on the other side of the desk facing you.
With another mug of tea in your hand, you sit more comfortably in the chair, looking at the map with some interest.
“Do you know where we are?”
Ghost asks the question, without taking his eyes off the map.
“I didn't see a sign with the name of the city when I came here, but I more or less know that I've been heading in the direction of the tower all along, which is west.”
You lean over the desk and point with your hand to the area you think you are more or less in. A possible location of where you are now.
“Not quite.”
Ghost points his finger at the map, a decidedly more distant point on the map than the one you just showed
 “We are here.”
You stare intently at the map, not convinced it's possible for you to have walked that far. You nod your head negatively. Not believing that you've made it this far. The distance you traveled seemed too far.
“I walked for a long time, but I was sure that I hadn't come such a long way.” 
“How long?”
The man finally takes his eyes off the map and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks at you closely.
“Actually, I don't know. It's been a long time since I stopped counting days.”
You sigh, clasping your hands nervously, your gloves still damp.
After a moment's thought, you add
“I think I've been walking for three or four weeks.”
Taking another sip of tea, you look at the map again
“I don't even know how long it's been since.... since...”
“Day Zero.”
He interrupts you, saying the words in a low, slow tone.
“Oh, it's... is that what you prefer to call it?”
“Yes. This day has been so named.”
Ghost moves closer, placing his elbows on the edge of the desk. Not giving you a chance to ask another nagging question.
“So how did you manage to survive for two years?”
He asks another question, looking at you more carefully, squinting his eyes.
You snort in slight nervousness.
“Honestly, I don't know, somehow.... I got lucky.”
You tell the truth, yet you nervously squeeze the fabric of your gloves, you always try to soothe your nerves this way in such stressful situations. Focusing your mind on something else.
“Who were you with?”
“Alone.”
You answer quickly and finally lift your gaze. You look into a man's dark eyes.
“Yes, definitely. And I was at the Manchester City game yesterday.” 
Ghost tilts his head to the side. Despite the mask on, you can see that the man is not smiling. Quite the opposite. He's tense, not looking away from you for even a second.
“I don't know how to prove it to you. All this time, damn it, all this time I've been alone. Alone. I haven't seen a LIVING person since that day!”.
You raise your voice.
Riley, most likely hearing your raised voices, runs out of the kitchen and stands next to the desk. He looks either at the man or at you. As if he is concerned about the situation.
More questions, one after another. Why, how, when, how much, really? And so on, and so on. The questions multiply. The same, but asked in a different way.
Not sure how long it lasts, a few minutes, maybe more than an hour? It all blends into one. However, long enough to feel the growing fatigue. This tiring and tedious interrogation is probably aimed at catching you in a lie, question after question. After another answer, you hear his next question again, monotonous slowly spoken words. And so on and so forth. After each of your answers, without changing his tone, he asks you another. Word against word.
He has certainly done this more than once in the past. You can see the experience in him, the confidence, the composure. He will be the one to break you before you break him. He'll keep asking you until you're finally jaded and tired, agitated by his behavior and dreaming of one brief moment of peace and quiet. Eventually you will give in and say what he wants to hear.
Finally, you rub your eyes with resignation and say in the hope that he will agree to your suggestion.
"Can we end this interrogation?"
"Interrogation? Hm... We're just talking to each other. We're chatting."
The man rolls up the map, putting it back in its place on the shelf with other papers, and slowly gets up
"But fine, we'll finish tomorrow. Follow me."
The room where you will spend the night is very small, with bright, bland walls. Almost like the storage room under the stairs where Harry Potter lived. In truth, given the size of the house, you can bet that there are bigger and nicer rooms where you could sleep. However, at this point you only dream of putting your head against the pillow and finally falling asleep.
Unfortunately, sleep is not coming. Although small, the narrow bed is very comfortable. Certainly more comfortable than the ones you slept in last time. If you slept in a bed at all. It's curling up in a ball in the sheets, changing position every now and then.
Riley protested for a long time by clenching his paws when Ghost tried to lead him out of the room. The dog wanted to stay with you.
Of course he wanted to.
It was amusing to watch the big man speak to the dog in an affectionate and pleading tone. Lightly pulling him by the dog's collar or trying to lift his heavy body off the floor. And Riley had nothing to do with his words and simply chose you. You didn't even have to say anything. You sat on the edge of the bed watching the whole overly comical situation. You felt it wasn't worth it, better not to make your situation worse.
It was Riley's decision, not yours.
The calm, rhythmic loud breathing of the dog finally puts you to sleep after many long minutes.
For the first time in a long time you find yourself in the arms of Morpheus. You sleep through the night, not once waking up with fear.
The first peaceful night.
Day 733
When you wake up, the first thing that catches your attention, still drowsy, you notice that you are not shivering from the cold. Every morning since time immemorial has started the same way. Icy limbs and shivering body, you often even moved your jaw involuntarily because you were so freezing.
This time it's pleasantly warm. Strange. Lying motionless in the warm bedding, you try to assimilate the astounding new situation. A few more moments and you remember where you are. At Ghost's house. Well, yes. Not in some abandoned, cold building somewhere in an unknown place far from civilization.
As you leave the room you notice the absence of the dog's presence and the same shrill silence as at night. You can hear nothing, no signs of presence, busyness in the kitchen, footsteps, no one and nothing. After the morning toilet you head to the kitchen and a peculiar sight appears to your eyes. On the counter lies a piece of paper and a covered plate.
“I'm on patrol with Riley.
Don't do anything stupid.
I see you.”
You smile under your breath. Bluff. Surely there are no cameras in the apartment. Supposedly why would he mount them in the house, use up such precious electricity. Surely he wanted to trick you. He probably wanted to scare you so you wouldn't do anything stupid or relatively dangerous and start searching his house. Still, this stubborn man didn't trust you. That was obvious. 
Sitting down at the kitchen island, you look down at your plate. Another surprise. The meal looks decidedly better than what you've been eating for the past few months. You can afford to indulge in a little luxury and quickly take your plate and heat it up in the microwave. Moments later there is a familiar sound, long unheard.
Truth be told, as if someone had told you a few years ago that you would start crying because of hot running water or squealing because of hot tea or a heated meal, you would have laughed out loud, shaking your head in disbelief.
Overall, the last few years have changed you a lot. They have reshaped you. They have changed practically everything. And despite so many days of breaking down, wishing for death after being left alone. After tonight, you feel as if new life has been pushed into you. Once again.
Oh and if only the demeanor of this giant, cranky, uptight man had been a little different. But it seems you can't have it all at once. Riley and finally a little civilization should be enough for you.
It had to be enough.
After eating, you must conclude with a hint of jealousy that even under such difficult conditions the man prepared a really tasty meal.
Not caring about the threat of being watched, you decide to look around the house. At least get a little familiar with your new surroundings. There seems to be nothing better to do. The idea of going outside in search of Ghost and Riley crosses your mind, but you immediately drive those thoughts away. After checking the door and a few windows. Of course, everything is locked. There is no way out. You decide not to struggle with the locks. Not to do any damage, because surely when trying to open the locks something would get hurt. Either you or the locks, which anyway looked very solid and difficult to open with some ordinary wire. It is better not to risk another argument with a man. Getting acquainted with the place also seemed tempting. Considering that at first glance it was clear that the man was well prepared for months, years of living in post-apocalyptic conditions. In the kitchen, apart from a lot of tightly packed long-life food, nothing else could be found. Lots of cans, packages, cardboard boxes. On the lower shelves, water purification devices, spare field stoves. The pantry is also not surprising. Well, maybe it is, the amount of food would certainly be enough for a family or even several. Not just for one person.
Looking at one of the labels, you notice that they are not familiar to you. They are definitely not the kind of things you find in a store or other abandoned houses.  You can't deduce much from the description, the long expiration date, the ingredients, the preparation instructions. Calorie count. No company name, bar code or place of manufacture. Nothing.
The shelves are bowed by the number of evenly stacked items. Which seem specially prepared for the situation. Nothing like the packages usually found in abandoned houses or stores.
Walking around the house you notice that in no place on any wall or shelf is there a single photo. Not a single empty frame. A bright rectangular mark on the wall. Nothing. It's as if no one had lived here before, or perhaps Ghost had buried the remains of the former tenants. Not wanting to see unfamiliar faces that looked reproachfully at the new tenant every day.
There is another option that now comes to mind. One more possibility. Something that was not quite so obvious. However, seeing the large amounts of accumulated belongings and food. It could have been that before day zero, this was his home.
If you had been even a little brave you would have asked him all the questions that were bothering you. But his manner, his tone of voice, his whole persona were so intimidating that you preferred not to know anything. Not to upset him, not to expose yourself. Just like at school. Stand aside and pray that no one notices you and ridicules you once again.
If ignorance, lack of questions and compliance are to make you stay. You are able to agree to this.
Many doors in the house are also closed. You are left with only the rooms you were in yesterday. After looking through the contents of the bookcases in the pantry and going through some maps and documents in the small room where you were interviewed yesterday, you found nothing of interest.  Which would have kept you busy while you waited for Ghost and Riley to return. Despondent, you return to the living room.
With resignation you sit down on the couch, you didn't even know how long this patrol would last. At least until one o'clock in the afternoon plus the return home from the tower, so the time spent alone was going to amount to several more hours.
There were some books in the room. So you try to kill time by reading. However, after a few moments, the words merge into one incomprehensible chatter. You can't concentrate even for a few moments. There were a lot of questions, doubts and question marks in my head all the time. You had so many interesting questions, and yet you were afraid to ask the man. Maybe after all, the comfort and security of a tightly closed home made it impossible for the brain to relax while reading.
Silence accompanied you every day.
When you were alone, you always had a book with you, something that allowed you to escape into an imaginary world for a few hours, to be somewhere else. Now the silence, the warmth of this house, something so natural, made your body feel alert somehow. As if peace wasn't something natural and right. Somewhere subconsciously you are still afraid that something bad is lurking around the corner.
Time slowly passed, maybe I managed to fall asleep on the couch for a while. It's possible that only a few minutes have passed. In a tightly closed house, in silence that irritates the ears. You decide to do something. Repay the man in some way, show that you are not a useless obstacle that appeared in his life. That you can be useful and needed. A nice gesture towards him, showing that you are grateful for his hospitality.
Convince him to let you stay longer.
The simplest thing that comes to mind, and that you are sure of. Is to make food. A tasty, warm dinner. Looking at the contents of the pantry and shelves, you are sure that even with a little effort you will be able to prepare something. Not just reheat a can of food with a long shelf life.
Bringing the necessary ingredients to mind what comes to your mind is another thought. Since you're sitting here locked up by yourself anyway.
Making something warm and edible might have annoyed Ghost. Using his supplies without asking, taking his things. Something he had meticulously collected and organized. He probably had his supplies calculated every day. So your behavior, certainly was not something extremely wise.  But it was probably worth the risk.
You lost yourself, you got carried away. Maybe the feeling of independence or the longing for the old life in such an ordinary, trivial activity as preparing a meal made you feel more confident. So now, after a long time in the kitchen, when you have managed to turn on the stove and the food is cooking, you jump around the kitchen listening to music.
You always did this while cooking.
Knowing that there was electricity in the house and seeing the music player, you turned it on and, full of excitement, hearing the first sounds of music, you involuntarily started moving your body to the rhythm of the music.
2 years before Day Zero
You
Driving home with your parents in the car, you sit in the back seat and listen to your favorite music. You pay no attention to the loud conversation and laughter of your parents, who sat in the front.
Looking out the window, you look at the crowded streets, the approaching holiday and weekend cause a lot of traffic. Although the weather does not encourage anyone to leave the house, many people unfortunately find themselves in a similar situation to you.
As you enter the road leading to your home, the rain intensifies. In fact, these are already suburbs and the road mainly leads to quiet neighborhoods of single-family houses.
The sudden braking of the vehicle and the rotation of the car around its axis causes you to shift inertly in your seat despite the fastened seat belt.
“What's going on?”
Removing one earpiece, you glance at your parents and look through the windshield.
Your attention is caught by one thing. A small dog is standing in the pouring rain. In the middle of the intersection stands a small, defenseless animal.
Thinking little, you unbuckle your seat belt and run out into the street and only then, you see the horrifying scene on the street.
The soaked dog is shaking in your arms.
“That ... could've been us.”
You hear your mother's terrified voice behind you. Now that you're back home, your parents anxiously describe the whole event to your sister.
“That truck should have driven into us. If you hadn't ... if Dad hadn't braked and swerved. That truck would have crushed us, because it suddenly drove into our lane.”
Wiping the dog you try not to listen to the concerned voices of your parents. There is no point in dwelling on this terrible situation. By some miracle you managed to avoid a collision with a multi-ton vehicle. And happily you were now all together at home.
“I wanted to avoid dog, the puppy suddenly appeared on the road”
Your dad tries to explain his sudden behavior on the road.
“Fucking miracle.”
Your mom looks at you and the dog, smiling gently.
Day 733
Your memories are violently interrupted by a sudden quiet. The music cuts off. Once again there is a piercing silence.
You quickly turn toward the room and notice that you are no longer alone.
Riley is standing on 4 paws merrily wagging his tail with his mouth wide open and tongue extended. Unfortunately, he can't approach you because he’s held on a leash in a strong grip. Yeah, right. You lift your gaze to see the tightly clenched hands on the leash and, despite the masked face, you immediately know that the man is clearly not happy.
“Tomorrow you'll be without electricity, because you don't know how to behave.” 
He says.
The broken silence lasts only a moment. Ghost stares at you for a few more seconds, then he and dog walk off into the dark corridor.
You hear him take something from a shelf in the pantry, and then the door at the end of the hall closes with a loud slam.
This is definitely not how you planned to convince him. This is not how it was supposed to be...
3 years before Day Zero
Ghost
Ghost entered the briefing room, as usual, a few minutes before the scheduled meeting. In the back row, he spotted his two team members, Sergeants Soap and Gaz. The men were gesticulating happily, showing each other something on their phone screens. Without even noticing it, the lieutenant took a vacant chair and sat down next to them.
The man wondered where the sudden call for this urgent meeting had come from. The mission they had been working on for months was progressing gradually, but so far successfully. They had a few more weeks to make another trip to gather more intel.  There was no indication of a sudden change of plans.
It had to be something else.
Ghost looked around the small room. To his surprise, all the members of the other task forces and other high-ranking soldiers were here.
There was definitely something going on.
When Captain Price entered the room, followed by Kate Laswell, the lieutenant greeted his superiors with a slight nod.
Ghost felt like he was in some freaking action movie, or even more of a sci-fi movie. Everything that was said during the briefing seemed irrational and untrue.
When finally the four men of Task Force 141 and Kate were seated in the captain's office each looked at the one another, as if each individual wanted to reassure themselves that what had taken place just a few minutes ago had really happened. That these words are not the product of their overtired heads, destroyed by constant stress and adrenaline.
Finally, the captain speaks up, interrupting this exchange of glances.
“So, Kate. What should we do now? After all, we can't pretend that what was said a moment ago never happened. How do we get back to our duties.... How are we to look our loved ones in the face and pretend that something so strange is not waiting for us?”
“I don't know John, unfortunately I know as much as you do. Everything is happening above me, at much higher levels. We just, we just have to prepare as best we can. To try... hell I don't know, for the first time in my life I'm not sure how to act.”
The woman hides her face in her hands without saying anything more.
“So what, we're supposed to keep going about our work, just like that? and at the same time get ready for the apocalypse?”
Kyle nervously walked around the room gesturing.
The exchange of nervous and raised voices continued, and Ghost was the only one who did not speak up. He felt overwhelmed by all this information. Everything seemed to be happening outside of him. Somewhere beside him. He wished it didn't involve him.
“ And you LT, what do you think?”
Finally, the question asked by Soap, draws the attention of the others to the masked man and the voice in the room falls silent.
“We are soldiers and we have to follow orders. And from what the general has relayed. We are to keep working while preparing safe houses for the eventuality of an attack. Each of us has assigned activities. If we want to protect ourselves and our relatives let's just stick to the assigned plan. We are in this together after all.  So let's just follow it. If Day Zero is to come, we must be as prepared as possible. ”
Day 733
Standing at the office door with steaming food on your plate and you momentarily hesitate to do something. Each single interaction with this man causes a strange pressure of nervousness in your stomach.
Every action he takes is unpredictable to you. Every reaction from him makes you doubt whether you will ever be able to establish any kind of a bond with him.
Finally, you end this internal struggle and knock on the door of the room. You wait a moment for any reaction, a sign of life, but nothing of the sort occurs. You put the plate by the door and hastily leave, hoping that the man will at least open the door and take the plate. He'll eat and maybe appreciate the meal you prepared.
“Let's talk.”
When you hear that low voice a few dozen minutes later, you flinch slightly on the couch. You put the book down and look at the man who is standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen.
“Okay.”
As he walks closer you involuntarily contract your legs on the couch, embracing them with your arms and nervously squeezing the blanket with which you are covered.
“We need to set some rules. I don't want the situation from today to happen again.”
Ghost sits down at the end of the couch without taking his eyes off you. He places a half-empty bottle of alcohol on the coffee table.
“You are extremely irresponsible. Do you know what could have happened if they had heard you? Do you know how that damn music could have been heard?”
Despite the words he speaks, the tone is monotone, and extremely calm.
“I didn't think...”
You say quietly hugging your legs tighter
“Of course you didn't think.”
With a snort, the man takes the bottle and, without offering you, takes a big sip. He does it in a rather efficient way because you don't even notice when the moment he exposes part of his face to easily take a sip of alcohol without dirtying his balaclava.
“Or maybe this is your way of letting your comrades know where you are, kid?”
“Oh god, seriously, you still don't believe me? I don't have the energy and already have no idea how I can convince you that I came alone.”
You nervously squeeze the material of the blanket while looking through your eyelashes at the figure sitting across from you.
“It's hard to believe that someone like that. Just like you. Was so lucky and had survived unharmed for so long.”
You don't answer him.
You are not ready to recount all the events that took place during those lonely months. Although you want him to trust you, you also partly understand his distrust. It is too soon for you to trust him. You don't really know anything about each other. And his behavior, what you saw in his house. Practically the whole house - a fortress, causes more question marks, more doubts.
“Are you a soldier?”
By asking this question, you hope to find out more and, perhaps, get some answers to nagging questions. You will somehow manage to get closer. You have to start somewhere. Do not persist in this exchange of thoughts about how you got here. Because it doesn't lead to anything.
“I was.”
“Because... because I see that you are well prepared. These supplies. The electricity. That tower.”
The man looks at the bottle he is squeezing in his hands
“Yes. This house was prepared for such a possibility. It is easy to survive here for many more years.”
Slightly you relax and decide to ask another question
“Since you are, you were a military guy. It's true what was said at the time, all those rumors. That you knew much in advance about what was going to happen?”
The man takes another large sip of liquor and gets up from the couch without looking at you.
“The interrogation is over.”
As he walks away, you repeat the words he said in his office last night
“'Interrogation? Ghost. We're just, we're chatting.”
The man stops halfway and, gently nodding, replies somewhere in space.
“Smart ass.”
and you could swear you could hear a hint of amusement in his voice.
Day 734-6
The next few days pass just like the previous ones. When you get up the house is already empty despite your best efforts you don't wake up before Ghost and Riley leave on patrol. Without an alarm clock this is a very difficult task. Especially since even though the room is claustrophobic and not too cozy, it is quiet and safe. They cause that every night when you put your head to the pillow you momentarily fall asleep and sleep all night.
Many months of stress and little sleep cause your body to finally give up, and your tired organism finally rests. It allows itself a well-deserved rest.
Everything is a routine. Every day is identical. And that's not the worst part. The worst thing is the fact that every day the man does not even say a single word in your direction. Returning, he locks himself in the office with a bottle while you knock, puts a plate with a meal in front of the door and leaves.
Even in the evening he doesn't come to talk to you. He treats you like air.
And, it's worse than when you were alone.
Finally, the next day when the situation repeats itself. Every action from the previous days is done by a man, as in a fucking routine.
Something finally breaks inside you. This is not why you try, you submit. You do not ask further questions or even question his decision that he keeps you locked up in this house.
However, this quiet and silence on his part, towards you, is something you can't stand.
When you knock once again and this time you don't put a plate in front of the door. You walk away a few steps and stand at the bathroom door waiting for Ghost to open the door to take the plate. And which should, as every day, be on the floor.
After a few minutes you hear the sound of the lock being twisted and the door slowly opens. The man, clearly confused, looks around the hallway.
“I thought maybe we could finally eat together.”
Saying this you turn around and head towards the kitchen.
Hearing quiet footsteps behind, you smile softly with satisfaction.
Dinner goes on in silence, Riley lies under the table near your legs quietly gasping. When he returns with Ghost from each patrol, the dog is visibly tired but definitely satisfied as well.
The man doesn't take his eyes off the plate. Now that you are sitting across from each other you can finally notice a scrap of his face.
The mask is folded up and reveals the lower part of his face. Several days of light beard cover a square jaw and, clearly, a strongly defined jawline, his mouth is wide even, his lower and upper lips are the same width. The lips are even and quite prominent. Despite the mask, you can only see a portion of his face, and despite the scars, you get the impression that there is quite a handsome man hiding under that dark material. Since he has a light beard, you wonder if his hair is light blond or maybe he is a brunette.
“Thanks for the meal.”
You are pulled from your thoughts by the man's low murmur.
“Sure no problem. I make a note of everything I've used up and try to take food with a short shelf life. And those that can spoil quickly.”
Ghost stands up and nods.
“Can I finally go on patrol with you? I'm bored here”.
“Sure, but not tomorrow. The day after tomorrow.”
To your surprise, the man returns from the room after a few moments with a thick and hardcover book. Beside the book, he puts down a bottle and brings two glasses from the kitchen.
He pours the clear liquid and moves one of the glasses toward you, and sits down again, at the table.
Taking a sip, you try not to choke and cough loudly.
You've never been a fan of strong and sharp alcohol. After taking a few more sips, clearing your throat, you finally get up the courage.
“I thought you preferred to spend your evenings alone.”
Saying this, you slide back in your chair to be closer to the man and have a better view of what is written on the paper and in the book open on the table.
“I thought you preferred to be left alone”.
He replies briefly, writing something down on a piece of paper and then reaches for the watch on his wrist.
Another throat-scorching sip of the drink.
“What are you doing?”
You curiously lean over to see better what the man is doing, tilting your head in his direction
“I'm setting the alarm, for the hour when the sunrise and sunset will be tomorrow.”
The man raises his eyes and looks at you. In this light, in the dim room, his eyes appear very dark. Contrasted by his light, long eyelashes, his irises are practically black.
Ghost moves closer to your face, the thick and rough material of his balaclava gently teasing the delicate and sensitive surface of your earlobe. Although his mouth is covered you feel the gentle whiff of his breath on the thin skin of your neck.
“You see. All you have to do is just, ask.”
After these words, Ghost gets up and leaves you alone in the room.
Day 737
Despite the fact that for most of the evening you recreate what Ghost did at the table, sleep comes quickly. Maybe it's the alcohol you drank, or maybe it's just tiredness.
However, just after waking up you still can't forget what happened in the evening.
Only tomorrow is the day that the man promised you that you would go on patrol with him. So now you have to get busy with something. Not only that, you want to prepare as best you can, but you need to occupy your thoughts with something and at least kill the slow-going time a little.
You look through the things prepared by the man for you, study the map you looked at the first day, read. Or you simply look out the window to at least get a little acquainted with the landscape of the neighborhood.
When it is finally time to prepare the meal to your surprise you find cd players and headphones on the kitchen counter.
Perhaps the man has heard you humming quietly to yourself every evening while cleaning the kitchen after eating. Since that fateful day, you haven't dared to put any more music on loudly through the speakers.
After cooking a meal, you remember to try on the shoes that Ghost had already prepared for you on the first day. Your old sneakers were not suitable for any use.
Walking down the corridor with headphones on, you pass another locked door. Finally reaching for your shoes, you put the cd player down on one of the trays in the hallway. And through your own carelessness you knock down an object standing on it. The heavy flashlight falls to the floor with a big noise. You hastily bend down to pick it up and check that you haven't broken it.
When to your satisfaction after pressing the button the flashlight shines with a strong light. Suddenly you hear a sound from somewhere far inside the apartment.
A tapping sound.
A steady one.
Rhythmic.
Pounding as if on metal pipes.  Into the audible surface.
The sound spreads through the house.
A quick
A long
And over and over again.
You slowly turn around and head for the nearest door.
These look slightly different from the others. They are more massive, wider and have more locks. You put your ear to the cold steel door.
Bang.Bang.Bang.
Silence.
Bang.Bang.Bang.
Pause.
With a shaking hand you lift to the handle. However, when you pull on it nothing happens.
The sound doesn't stop, the door doesn't open.
When it finally occurs to you what the sound means from the other side of the hallway you hear a dog barking and the sound of the lock opening.
Ghost is back.
And there is someone in the basement calling for help.
SOS.
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So…I’ve started a SatoSugu smut fic set in omegaverse and I need motivation to keep going.
Is it worth continuing?
(P.S. I already have two other series I’m behind on 🤦🏼‍♀️)
Darling You’re Divine
The room was deathly quiet. Satoru could count on his hand the number of times he had felt nervous in his lifetime but none of them compared to the trepidation rising within him as he waited in an empty hotel room for his ex-boyfriend. Alas, he continued to pick at the slacks where his bent knee stretched the fabric too far and considered taking out his phone to shop for a replacement pair. He just needed a distraction.
His heat was fast approaching, meaning his easy going confidence had been swapped out with an increasingly high-strung attitude. He had snapped at Ijichi twice for asking one too many questions regarding where he planned to spend his heat and who he planned to spend it with. Satoru had warped away from the conversation after his colleague brought up Nanami as a possible partner. Nanami couldn’t stand to look him longer than absolutely necessary when his subtle vanilla scent thickened to that of warm spices. Besides, taking another heat partner was not an option for him. No one besides Shoko knew that he and Suguru had bonded and she had supported him tirelessly in keeping that a secret. Unfortunately, it made the situation more difficult. He had struggled through the effects of bond sickness for months after Suguru’s defection. Finding suppressants that actually worked and did not cause him to throw up his dinner every morning, or
But, as Shoko had argued to him more than she should have had to, suppressants only worked for so long. Which is why he found himself calling a number he had long since blocked and booking a hotel room far from Tokyo. There first conversation in over a year had not been as terrible as Satoru expected. He had anticipated some snark, some yelling, and a downright refusal. He had not known that when Suguru’s voice, not bitter or unkind, filtered through his iPhone speaker that he himself would erupt into tears. When he could only respond with a suppressed sniffle, made soggy by the tears streaming down him cheeks, Suguru had done nothing but try to comfort him. He had taken Satoru’s confession of the situation in stride, agreed to a time and date, and even made several hotel suggestions.
Satoru, it’s going to be okay, Suguru whispered.
The rest of ten minute phone call had been a bit of blur with Suguru only asking questions specific to his health. Satoru had come back to the click of the call ending and drying tear tracks on his cheeks. The rest of that evening, Satoru felt like he was floating, like just hearing Suguru’s voice had evaporated all of his problems. The next morning dread began polluting his entire thought process and the feeling had only gotten worse as his heat approached. When the cramps eventually started and he seemed unable to stop sweating despite the chill in his bones, he texted Suguru when and where to meet him.
Sighing loudly in an attempt to rid himself of the tension, Satoru tossed his phone across the bed and collapsed backwards. He spread his arms wide and skimmed his fingertips over the lush duvet, its coolness was dulling the fever that was already simmering under his skin. He relaxed for only a minute before the three tentative knocks echoed through the room. He sat up immediately, his back ramrock straight. He did not have time to calm himself before the doorknob beeped twice and cracked open.
Light from the hallway lit up the other wise dark room for only a moment before the door was shut. Suguru looked just as he always had and Satoru briefly wondered if he was wearing the same outfit he had been when he left. He had to smallest smile painting his face and it gave Satoru the chance to briefly forget everything that had happened between them. But when he looked down and his brain once again noticed they were meeting in a random hotel room, not one of their dorm rooms back in at the school, his face crumpled.
“I’m sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected,” Suguru, of course, assumed his reaction was due to his heat. “Did you call the front desk for some relief packs?”
“What?” Satoru’s voice was choked, but he thankfully was not crying.
“Relief packs, Satoru,” he said slowly as if the words were what confused the other male. Satoru couldn’t stop the flinch when Suguru raised his hand to place his palm along his flushed cheek, checking his temperature. Part of Satoru wanted to snap at him for the coddling. The other part, the omega part, wanted to be pampered and to indulge in finally being in the presence of his mate once again.
“Not yet,” he mumbled, releasing a relieved breath when Suguru’s palm finally left his skin.
“It’s okay, I’m sure they will deliver to the door,” Suguru reassured. His eye crinkled as he smiled obviously trying to ease his mate’s discomfort.
Satoru hummed in response and began to feel awkward. He wished he had remained sitting on the bed so he could scratch at the scuff in the fabric of his pants to quell the nervousness. Instead, he fiddled with the balled up gum wrapper in his pocket and watched Suguru’s eye flicker down when he noticed the movement. Satoru was expecting a smirk followed by a teasing remark, but he received neither. Suguru stepped closer to him, invading his space and clouding his sense with the scent of fresh rain and pine needles.
He gently tugged his forearm to pull Satoru’s hand from his pocket and then glided his fingers to intertwine with the omega’s. He looked up, their eyes meeting for the first time since he arrived. “Is it okay if I scent you?”
Satoru felt dazed and slightly scent-drunk, but nodded nevertheless. Suguru did not linger after receiving the confirmation. His hand moved to Satoru’s jaw, turning his head to the side, exposing his scent gland. Satoru felt his body begin to sing when Suguru’s cheek touched the gland on his neck and his warm breath exhaled near his ear.
Suguru’s scent had always been intoxicating. It reminded Satoru of the moment when the sun first emerged from the clouds following a rainstorm. It was clean, floral, and piney; refreshing but never overbearing. Satoru’s, on the hand, overwhelmed any room. Nanami had once compared his scent to when his mother accidentally over-baked treats and they came out burnt. Satoru had been soothed after Suguru scolded their junior, but the omega always relived that moment of shame during his heats, when all he could smell was scorched chestnuts and vanilla. Having his mate with his refreshing rain scent so near distracted Satoru from taking notice of his own aroma, calming any thoughts of humiliation.
The alpha pulled away just longer enough to shift so Satoru’s back was to the bed, before pushing him down flat. Standing between where Satoru’s legs rested on the band, he placed one his hands at the bend of Satoru’s knee as if intending to drape it over his hip. Instead the hand drifted from his leg, to his waist, ghosted close to his chest, before reaching up to cup Satoru’s jaw.
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kazvha · 2 days
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"Realistic?"/weird headcanons I had for Kayden
Notes: Yet another 'don't take this too seriously' post🥴
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1. Does the reader have a chance with Kayden?
• Let's be real, you wouldn't even know who Kayden is because you're a mere human
• A normal day in his life consists of waking up at 5 am, going on a run with Jiwoo, training with Jiwoo and also instructing him, maybe taking an afternoon nap, training again, going to sleep with his force control activated and repeat
• So he never even thought about having romantic feelings for someone. His main goal is to become stronger and to defeat strong people
• But let's say you're an awakener and you know who Kayden is. You still would have no chance to get to know him because he thinks that everyone is approaching him for their own interest. That's just how the awakened world is. And if you two fought against each other, you would probably hold a grudge against him like the other awakeners
• Your best bet would be having a connection to Jiwoo since Kayden's life revolves around him right now.
• Idk, maybe you would have to work at Shinhwa and take care of Jiwoo kinda like Inhyuk
• You would have to be very persistent and keep visiting Jiwoo at his house for Kayden to notice you. And you would have to find out his secret of him being a cat for him to lower his guard around you
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2. Oddly, very oddly specific hcs:
• He doesn't take care of his hair like that. When he found out that shampoo existed, (before that he washed his hair with his bodywash) he bought a specific 3 in 1 Shampoo and he never went back since. That's the only thing he puts in his hair
• Even so his hair is somewhat silky and nice. But he's so annoyed by the strands that fall out of his bun. He thought way too many times about shaving all his hair off (imagine Kayden with a buzzcut)
• But he only cuts his hair when he notices it growing past his collarbones. "Ah, it's that time again... Why does it grow so fast??"
• He has no fashion sense. At all. So he sticks to white or black shirts and black pants because that outfit can be used for any casual and professional settings
• He's been wanting to pierce his ears for a long time but he doesn't know a good place where he can do it. He's too lazy to do it
• His lips are so dry it hurts me. He doesn't even notice it when his lip is bleeding. Someone bring him some chapstick pls
• He doesn't know how social media works and doesn't have any accounts. He only uses his phone for text messages and calls
• If there was an Instagram or X for awakeners there would be so many fan accounts dedicated to Kayden. And every time he fights someone, the whole platform blows up with posts about him
• He can cook. Kayden has lived alone his whole life and he somehow had to feed himself with cheap ingredients. Over the years his improvised meals became better and more delicious
• He's the worst when it comes to cleaning dishes though. He hates it. He would rather take the trash out than do the dishes
• One day a girl told him that she was jealous of his long eyelashes. He shrugged her off, but since then he thinks about her statement every once in a while. Kayden would look at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and think 'They're not that long though.'
• He still didn't lose hope that he'll become a skinnier cat if he trains enough and that's probably one of his main goals these days. Who cares about getting stronger? He just wants to lose the cat fat😩
• He often gets nightmares about being stuck in his cat form and never getting out again
• He speaks Korean and Chinese fluently and can also converse in English quite well
• He only wears these footies socks, these no-show socks. Who needs normal socks?
• Speaking about socks, he sleeps without socks on.
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sorry.
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nanaslutt · 4 months
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Not even god himself
synopsis: Gojo insists day in and day out you let him fuck you raw, and one day you give in. Only when he promises to pull out before he cums, does he actually hold that promise?
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contains: pwp, fem reader, established relationship, clothed cunnilingus, dry humping, fingering, teasing, dacraphillia, so much dirty talk it should be illegal, unprotected sex, rough sex, reatrains, gojo is an asshole but he loves you<3
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"Baby cmon pleasseeeee, It'll feel sooo good for both of us I promise. Don't you wanna feel me inside you with nothing between us?" Gojo cooed, peppering kisses up your legs as you sat on the couch, thighs crossed as you stared at the man on the floor who was too large to be kneeling in front of you like this.
Satoru had been asking to fuck you raw since the day you got together. The first time you slept together it was "oh noooo, I forgot to buy condoms, sorry baby, looks like we're gonna have to do it raw" followed by a not-so-smooth wink. You made him take a little trip to the convenience store that night that happened to be right across from your apartment before things went any further.
He tried to ask to fuck you raw on any special occasion too, his birthday? You bet. Your first anniversary? Absolutely. Father's Day? He wasn't even a father… The closest you let him get to fucking you raw was when you let him rub his cock on the outside of your cunt, your folds rubbing along his dick as he poked and prodded at your clit with his fat head.
He tried to sneakily press his tip against your entrance, saying he wasn't going to put it in, quickly followed by "Just the tip." You did not let him put "just the tip" in because "just the tip" didn't exist with Satoru. You knew once he got a taste of your raw pussy, not even god himself could pull him out of you, it was too risky.
You did admit the idea sounded wonderful, and it pained you to turn him down every time he asked, but you weren't on birth control, and once again, you didn't trust Gojo to pull out before he came. Hell, he kept his cock buried as deep as he could inside you while he came with a condom on, always pouting when he pulled out saying "What a waste, that could've been inside you" and effectively riling you up from those words alone.
The reason you had waited so long to get on birth control was simply because of your job. You were a jujutsu sorcerer too, and it seemed like every time you started to make the appointment to see your doctor to get on some form of birth control, work interveined. So when you finally got on birth control after over a year of dating Satoru practically cried in your arms begging you to let him fuck you raw now.
You sighed and held the big baby in your arms as you told him that the effects of birth control didn't start fully working until 2 weeks of consistently taking the pill. "So you'll let me fuck you raw in 2 weeks?" Gojo said, perking up instantly. You rubbed your head as you felt a migraine start to come on as you said, "We'll revisit this later."
Satoru had taken your words to heart. He set a timer on his phone for the same time, every single day, for two weeks--and whenever that alarm went off, he dropped whatever he was doing to find you and remind you to take your pill. He had observed the way you said you needed to take the pill consistently for 2 weeks for it to work, so he was going to take absolutely every single precaution to make sure nothing got between you, and taking that goddamn pill.
Sure he had waited over a year with no date in sight of when he was going to be able to fuck you raw, but now that he had a date, or at least a possible date, of when he could? He didn't think he would be able to handle it if you missed a day and had to start over from day 1. Satoru was a very impatient man when it came to anything involving you, this wasn't something he was going to play around with.
So two weeks later, here Gojo was, on his knees as he pouted up at you with those big blue eyes as he begged, tears in his eyes and all, for you to let him fuck you raw. "Satoru… I don't know." You replied, making him perk up. 'I don't know' wasn't no. Gojo turned up all his seducing techniques to the max, he needed to seal the deal before you were turned off by the idea.
"Just think about it baby, my hard cock inside of you…" Satoru said softly, running his long fingers up the underside of your shins sensually, "Imagine how warm It'll feel, hm? You'll be able to feel every vein on my dick, every fucking vein." You looked away in embarrassment, feeling your face grow hot. Satoru picked up on this, he was winning you over, and he had to keep going.
"I'll even pull out before I cum baby, I promise. Just a couple of thrusts, yeah? Just a couple I just need to feel you for a little bit." Satoru begged, his hands sliding under your thighs that were pressed against the cushions as he pulled you closer to the edge of the couch, pulling your legs over his shoulders. "Satoru… we both know you won't be able to stop halfway…" You said, still averting your gaze.
"For this, I can do it, baby, cmon don't you trust me? I'll give you a good few strokes, nice n deep, just how you like it." Gojo whispered, pressing kisses as he made his way up your thighs. "Then I'll pull out and put on a condom before I cum, that way I can still cum inside you, yeah? How's that sound? You wanna feel your boyfriend's hard cock inside you with no rubber?" Gojo cooed, kissing higher and higher up your thighs as he tried to win you over.
If Gojo was honest with himself, he didn't know if he was going to be able to keep his promise. He would say anything to you right now if it meant you would let him hit it raw, and he knew deep down that you knew that too, but gauging by your response and how fidgety and squirmy you got, Gojo could tell you wanted it just as bad as he did.
Gojo sealed the deal by sliding his hands under your hips and pulling your body down from the couch so your crotch was right in front of his face. "Hey, look at me." He pouted, nuzzling your inner thigh as he looked up at you. "Your boyfriend is talking to you down here~" Biting your lip between your teeth you looked down at the man between your thighs.
You kept your hands together over your chest, afraid to move. "Yeah… look at me, don't look away." Gojo cooed, keeping his all-seeing eyes on yours as he leaned forward and kissed your clothed cunt through your shorts, making you gasp in surprise. "Talk to me baby, tell me what you're thinking." He asked, giving your face one more once over before he pressed himself against your mound once more and kissed right where your clit was.
Your hands came to card through his hair as his tongue poked out between your teeth and pressed against your pussy through your shorts, the dull feeling of stimulation only frustrating you, creating an intense fire to burn strongly in your groin. "God… o-okay, okay." You finally said, your nails raking against Gojo's scalp as he mimicked how he ate you out, just over your clothes.
Gojo giggled against your clothed pussy before he pulled his face back, his arousal evident on his face with how red his cheeks were, combined with his blurry, unfocused eyes. "Okay, what baby? I need to hear you say it." Gojo said, nuzzling his head against your thigh once more as he looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
His cock was twitching rapidly against the confines of his boxers as he awaited your words. "You can fuck me raw." You said softly, wincing in embarrassment as you averted your eyes once more, continuing to caress Gojo's head. Gojo released a groan mixed with a laugh as he felt himself leak an alarming amount of pre-cum inside his boxers. "Fuck baby, you have no idea what that did to me," Gojo said, thrusting his hips forward into the air, trying to get whatever relief he could as his erection was pressed against the zipper of his jeans.
"You want it now? Hm? I know how wet you are, I could hear your pussy talking to me when I was teasing her. You wanna feel me inside you right now don't you?" Gojo spoke, slightly projecting with his words. You hadn't realized how much your breathing had picked up as Gojo had been teasing you. The need you felt between your thighs was unlike anything you've ever felt before, he was right, you needed him, and you needed him now.
Looking back at your boyfriend with a pout, you nodded, trying to press your thighs together to emphasize your need before you spoke. "I need it now Satoru. Please…" That was all he needed to hear before he was scooping you up in his arms and making a b-line for his bedroom.
The two of you kissed like it was your last night alive, moans and gasps spilling from the other's lips each time your lips separated in a loud smack. Gojo placed you down on the bed and crawled between your legs, instantly wrapping your legs around his hips as he pressed his bulge against your clothed cunt.
"You feel me?" Gojo sighed against your lips between kisses, relishing in the way your moans increased in volume each time he humped his hips against yours, pressing his hard cock into your pussy. "Yeah…" You moan back desperately, your hands tangling in his hair as you try to pull him closer to you. "All for you baby, so hard just for you." Gojo groaned, emphasizing his words by pressing his hips flush against yours and keeping them there.
The friction felt so fucking good, he was so hard it felt like his knee was pressing between your legs. You sucked on his tongue as his hands wrapped under your back that was pressed against the sheets. His lithe fingers slipped under your shirt and found the clasp of your bra with ease, undoing the metal hooks with just a couple of fingers. You sighed at the relief of the pressure from your bra hugging your upper torso.
"Let me get this off you." Gojo rushed, leaning back a bit so he could pull your shirt off with ease, practically ripping the bra from your body once he had the shirt off of you. Gojo licked his lips as he took your tits in his hand, massaging them and pressing them together as he gave himself a show. Your nippled pebbled under his touch, making Gojo's mouth water.
"So fucking pretty, they're practically begging me to suck them." Gojo sighed, his cock twitching as he felt the softness of your tits in his hands before he leaned in and took one of your hard nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the little bud. Your back arched against him as you gasped, your hands gripping his hair harder to ground yourself as he sucked on your nipple, the other hand toying with the little bud that wasn't currently in his mouth.
"Oh fuck- Satoru fuck-" You gasped, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continued thrusting his hips against yours. He moaned around your nipple, only aiding the warmth you felt between your legs. You were sure you had soaked completely through your panties by now, you felt so hot. Gojo's eyebrows furrowed as his plush lips sucked around your nipple, his soft pink tongue flicking it and rolling around it expertly, sending shockwaves straight to your clit.
Satoru popped off of your nipple with a smile, his lust-filled eyes staring down at your already disheveled form as he placed his hands by your shoulders and pushed his body up, keeping his eyes on yours as he dry humped you like he was fucking you. "You're so worked up." He moaned, his mouth slightly open as he smiled through his noises. "You that excited to feel my cock inside you? Huh?" He teased, rolling his hips in circles the way he knew drove you crazy.
Your hands fell from his hair down to his hips, you bit your lip as you pulled his hips towards yours, making him hump into you harder. "Y-you're one to talk." You shot back, tilting your head to the side against your pillow as you stared down at his hard cock, threatening to rip through his boxers and pants alike.
Gojo giggled before he responded, his head dropping down as he looked down to where the two of you were connected. A small wet patch had formed on the front of Satoru's pants from how much his cock was leaking. "I'm getting to fuck my pretty girlfriend raw, of course, I'm fucking excited." He smiled, his cerulean eyes looking back up at you.
"Satoru… stop teasing me, I n-need to feel you." You begged, moaning each time he rocked his hips into yours, your nails digging into his hips. "Tell me more baby," Gojo begged, pulling his lip between his teeth as he looked at you expectantly. You pouted at his words, he knew how embarrassed you got when he put you on the spot like this, but you were too worked up to be as shy about it as you otherwise would've been.
"Toru, give me your cock, n-need to feel you inside me with no c-condom." You begged, your hand sliding to the front of his body as your hand slid under his shirt, your fingers tracing up the indents of his defined abs as you pushed his shirt up higher and higher, exposing his toned body to your greedy eyes. Gojo groaned at your needy words and touch before he leaned back and crossed his arms over his body, gripping the end of his t-shirt as he pulled it up and over his body, discarding it somewhere on the floor.
Your hands smoothed down his chest, your nails raking over his porcelain skin as you left angry red marks in their wake. Gojo dropped his chin down to look down at you, groaning as you marked him up. He felt his cock twitch against his pants when you got to the waistline of his pants and started unbuttoning his jeans. "Take care of yourself, baby." He smiled, his hands coming down and pushing yours out of the way as he started to take off his pants. "Get outta those shorts for me." He winked.
You didn't need to be told twice. Without a second thought, you slipped your fingers under the band of your shorts and pulled them down your body, panties and all. Gojo's watchful eyes took in how your cunt connected to your pretty panties with a string of your arousal before it broke when you pulled them too far down your legs, kicking them off of your body.
You rubbed your body against the sheets, getting comfortable as you spread your legs for Gojo as he undressed himself. Gojo shook his head as he watched your teasing fingers slide down your body and reach your clit as you slowly started to rub the neglected but in small circles. "Fuck, someone's needy. Don't start the fun without me." Gojo teased, shimmying out of his pants.
His boxers were doing little to conceal the massive boner he was sporting, the pretty flushed tip poking out through the band of his boxers, the tip wet with his pre-cum. "H-hurry then." You replied, slowly slipping a finger inside your wet cunt with ease, thrusting it slowly as you stared shamelessly at his hard cock, wishing he was inside you already.
Gojo let out a long groan as he watched you finger yourself. He quickly added his boxers to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen when he fully pulled them off. His white pubes were neatly trimmed and made a perfect backdrop for his flushed red cock to really stand out. "What are you doin' huh? Why are you fingering yourself?" Gojo asked, wrapping his fingers around his hard cock to ease his arousal as he watched you add a second finger inside yourself, shamelessly getting off in front of him.
9 times out of 10, Gojo was the one to stretch you out, so he was confused about whether you were just needed or if there was another reason. His question was quickly answered when you whined out, "I don't wanna wait for you to stretch me out, n-need to feel you right now." you begged, curling your fingers inside yourself as you massaged your g-spot, scissoring and thrusting them inside yourself as you tried to open yourself up for him.
Gojo stroked himself faster as he groaned watching you, a dopey smile on his face. "Babyyy… you should never have to prep yourself." He smiled, his free hand caressing your inner thigh briefly before he slid his hands down to your entrance. You watched him carefully as he rubbed his fingers on the underside of your hole that was stuffed with your smaller fingers. Each thrust inside yourself made more and more wetness gush out of you.
"Is there room for me? Hm?" Gojo teased before he flipped his hand so it was facing the ceiling and slowly started pushing two fingers in alongside yours. Both of your jaws dropped in tandem as he fully inserted his fingers inside you, feeling how tight you felt with your fingers also stuffed inside your little cunt. "Fuck, you're so warm." Gojo cooed, his eyebrows furrowing as he watched the way your cunt stretched to accommodate his fingers.
You whined and gasped as you adjusted to the stretch--fairly quickly thanks to how wet you were. "C'mon, keep movin' ur fingers with me if you wanna do it yourself so bad." Gojo teased, stroking his cock at the same pace as his fingers inside you. You gasped when he curled his fingers with you, the added pressure of his stronger fingers pressing into you stimulating your g-spot tenfold. "T-toru, enough…" You begged when he sped up, acting like he was trying to get you to cum on his fingers.
"Not yet… I like this, it's like we're holding hands, heh." Gojo giggled, increasing the pace of his hand on his cock as he continued to fingerfuck your cunt with you. "N-no I'm gonna cum-" You warned, trying to slow your own fingers inside yourself to block Gojo from hitting your sweet spot. "So cum~," Gojo said nonchalantly, his cock twitching in interest at feeling your cum around his fingers.
You pushed his wrist away with your other hand, successfully slowing his thrusts inside you. You shook your head before looking up at him once more, your eyes making contact with his, which were already staring at you. "Wanna cum on your cock…" You said bashfully, pouting as you spoke, embarrassed by your own words.
Gojo raised his eyebrows as his jaw fell open in a small o as he stared at you incredulously. He broke out into laughter a couple of seconds after, his fingers sliding out of you at the same time. You winced at the loss, already wishing he was back inside you. "God, could you be any cuter?" Gojo asked, looking at you lovingly. He rubbed his fingers wet with your juices over the top of his cock, mixing his cum with yours.
Soon after he was leaning over you, pushing at your hip as he tried to signal you to turn over on your stomach. You quickly complied, not wanting to make either of you wait any longer. "Up," Gojo said quietly, his hand pulling your pelvis toward the ceiling. You stuck your ass up, creating a gap between your pelvis and the bed for Gojo as he stuck a pillow under your hips, creating the perfect arch for you so he would be able to hit it just right while you laid there and took it.
"Good girl." He said, leaning over you as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his hand bracing himself on the side of your body. Gojo looked down at your ass laid out for him as he tapped his hard cock on your cheeks, making the fat ripple from the impact. You wiggled your ass at him, whining out his name. "Let me have a little fun pretty girl, I've waited too long for this after all." Gojo cooed, slotting his cock between your ass cheeks as he rubbed back and forth teasingly, smearing his precum on your ass.
You whined in response, irritated with the white-haired man. That should be the exact reason why he should be impatient, so why was he taking his time? You were fed up with his teasing already, you were dripping wetness down your thighs, how could he keep denying you? You bit your lip as you wrapped your arms around the pillow in front of you, rubbing your cheek against it.
Gojo pulled his hips back and pushed the middle of his cock down with his thumb, angling it towards your pussy. "God, I can't believe you're finally letting me fuck you raw." He moaned, shaking his head in disbelief as he rubbed his leaky tip against your folds, catching his head on your clit and making your body jolt from the stimulation.
"I'll take it back if you don't fuck me already." You bit, wiggling your ass back against him, making his tip rub into your folds. Gojo pressed his hips against yours, teasing the entrance of your hole with his tip. "You don't mean that~" Gojo cooed, continuing to tease you, only shallowly thrusting his cock on the outside of your hole, making you think he was going to slip it in at any moment.
You turned your head on the pillow to look back at him through the corner of your eye, a look of serious need plastered on your face as you made eye contact with him. "Try me." You spat, your lip quivering with how badly you wanted him. Gojo furrowed his eyebrows and kept his eyes on yours as he slowly started pushing his cock into you, not wanting to test you right now. He had waited so long for this, the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it by being too cocky.
"Oh fuck-" You moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head as Gojo's cock slipped past the tight ring of your cunt, penetrating you. Gojo's jaw dropped fully open as he gasped heavily into the room, his chin dropping down so he could stare at the place where the two of you were connected. You felt the familiar burn from the stretch as Gojo slowly slid his cock inside you, inch by inch, he was going so slow you truly felt every single vein.
"Holy fuckk- ngh- you're so much warmer." Gojo moaned, feeling his balls already pulse with his release. "S-so soft too, ohmygod-" Gojo was quickly losing himself inside your pussy, his pretty eyes fluttering with how intense this felt for him. The two of you moaned in tandem when he thrust his cock inside you, giving you the last couple of inches all at once so he was now fully sheathed inside your pussy.
You whined at how hot he felt inside you, how soft the skin of his dick was, everything, you felt everything. Gojo wasn't fairing much better, his breath hitching and stuttering as he fought not to cum the second he got inside you. "Tell me I can move baby, I gotta fuck you, I'm not gonna last long like this," Gojo begged, practically crying out the words as he felt your pussy pulse and squeeze around him rapidly.
"Please, move baby ple-" Your words were cut short by Gojo thrusting needily into your cunt, loud squelches accompanied your whines and cries as you gripped the pillow you rested your head on for dear life. "Fuck- fuck you feel so good baby, can feel all of you like this." Gojo moaned, his sounds rivaling the volume of your own.
You silently cursed yourself for not doing this sooner. You sobbed and nodded in agreement against the pillow, squeezing your thighs together to bring your clit some relief as Gojo fucked into you quickly. The second his cock was fully out of you, it was back in you like it never left. Not only was his pace incredibly fast, but it was hard too, he was truly making the most out of this opportunity.
"D-dont forget t-oo pull out when you get close-" You tried to cry out as you felt yourself get pushed towards the edge already. Gojo tipped his head back as he half ignored your words. "Yeah yeah, pull out," Gojo mumbled, shrugging you off, "Give me those fucking hands baby." He growled not even a second later, his hand reaching up by your head to pull at your bicep, making your arm lay behind your back.
You pulled the other out from behind the pillow for Gojo and he quickly pressed your wrists together and locked your arms behind your wrist with his one strong hand. His fingers were so long that he enclosed both of your wrists in just the one palm. He used his other hand to pull your hips up so you were resting on your knees, face up, ass down, as he bullied his cock into your pussy.
Now that he had manipulated your body into such a harsh arch, he was fucking right into your sweet spot, you felt his cockhead ram into it every time he thrust his cock inside you, it made your moans cut off in a choked whine each time. "You're so fucking tight in this position, I can feel my cock hittin' that soft spot inside you that makes you go all dumb on me." Gojo cooed, shaking his head as he tried to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth, not wanting to cum too fast.
Your pussy genuinely felt like a vice in this position, he was barely able to last five minutes in this position with a condom on, so he could only imagine how quickly this was gonna be over now that he was fucking you raw. Your jaw dropped in a silent scream when your high washed over you unexpectedly. In this position, Gojo's cock was rubbing all the right spots inside you, and his heavy balls were slapping right against your sensitive bundle of nerves.
Gojo's eyes shot open in surprise, his hand that wasn't holding your wrists dug itself into your ass as his abs clenched with the intensity of arousal that washed over him. The feeling of you suddenly cumming on his cock caught him off guard just as much as it caught you off guard, his hips stuttering as he fucked you through your high. "Ohshitohshit- t-too tight." Gojo moaned, sucking air in through his teeth as he slowed down a bit, fighting to not paint your walls white.
You cried out Gojo's name like a mantra as your body shook and jolted with your orgasm, your pussy leaking out cum around his cock. Gojo took a deep breath in when you came down from your high, your walls loosening around him significantly and allowing him to breathe. "God baby, almost made me fill you up with that one. How did cumming on my dick feel hm? Bet you felt every inch of me rubbin' inside you." Gojo cooed, his own words working him up.
Your post-orgasm-hazed brain could only focus on Gojo admitting that he almost came inside you, realizing then that he said he promised he was only going to give you a couple of thrusts raw before he pulled out. As good as this felt, you knew he was close by his incessant babbling and his sloppy hips fucking against your ass with no rhythm.
"T-toru pull out n-now" You cried as he fucked you into overstimulation, your legs crossing as his balls continued to batter your sensitive clit. "Hm? What was that? You want me to pull out?" Gojo asked, delaying your request by playing dumb. "I don't know if that's fair though… you got t-to cum on my cock so why do I have to pull out to cum?" Gojo pouted, continuing to fuck his cock inside your pussy, your walls feeling so much softer around him now that you had cum once.
"W-what?" You choked out a confused sound at Gojo's words. That wasn't what you had agreed on, was he seriously going to cum inside you? "Sator-uuu pull out or put on a c-condom, you promised." You cried, trying to wiggle your arms out of his iron grip to no avail. Your body was so weak to the pleasure Gojo Satoru gave you, you weren't getting out of this unless he wanted you to.
"You want me to put on a condom so bad?" Gojo paused his thrusts to lean over to the bedside table, picking up one of the condoms he had placed there for later he got back into position behind you and threw the condom at you, the foil wrapper hitting you in the head softly before it fell in front of your eyes. "Open it for me." He finished, smirking at you mischievously.
You felt like crying, he was being so unfair. Realistically you knew if Gojo came inside you, you would be fine because of the birth control, but you would 100% put him on a pussyban, and a part of your rational brain knew that. Nonetheless, you tried to wiggle towards the condom, shimmying your shoulders against the sheets as you tried to jerk your hands out of Gojo's stronghold once more.
"C'mon, you're not even trying. It's like you want me to c-cum inside." Gojo teased, trying to keep his words composed but ultimately failing as he felt your pussy bring him closer and closer to the edge. "Toru d-don't, please pull outtt-" You begged, shaking your head as your body was manhandled by the large man twice your size that was teasing and bullying you while fucking your pussy raw.
Gojo tsked as he pouted at you, his cock twitching as he took in your teary, defiant face. "You didn't even try~ C'mon, try a little harder I'm about to cum you still have some time-" Gojo faux encouraged, fucking his cock into you harder. You shook your head, relaxing your arms in his hold as you allowed Gojo to do with your body what he would, you knew you stood no chance if he was adamant about cumming inside you.
"You're so fucking cute you know that? F-fucking love you so much." He giggled, his words coming out choked and breathy as your cunt milked his dick right to the edge. It was over, he was going to cum inside you and you were going to have to ban sex for a year… no two years… maybe forever. As you let Satoru yank your arms back so your body met his thrusts, readying yourself to take his load--
--he pulled his cock out at the last minute, "I'm cumming- c-cumming fuck, fuck-fuuuuuck." It took every ounce of strength in his body, but he managed for pull out. Gojo groaned as he jerked his cock rapidly, wet with your juices, over your ass. Hot ropes of his thick cum landed on the skin of your ass and thighs as he milked his cock for all it was worth, his nails digging into your wrists as he came. His eyes fluttered back in his head as his body endured one of the most intense orgasms he'd ever had.
You sighed in relief, closing your teary eyes as you gasped against the pillow as Satoru smeared his cum all over your ass, rubbing his tip along your skin to make sure he gave you every last drop of his seed. He released your hands and your body fell limply against the sheets, Gojo's body chasing yours as he laid on top of you, his cum smearing all over the skin of his pelvis and abs as he embraced your body from behind.
He couldn't find himself caring about the warm stickiness of his seed rubbing along his skin much as he held your tired body in his arms, giggling as he peppered kisses along your arms and the back of your head. "Did I scare you? Heh, did you really think I was gonna cum inside you?" He asked, smiling from ear to ear as he whispered against the shell of your ear.
You felt the veins in your head bulge out in annoyance. Gojo was such a sadist, and he knew exactly how to press all of the buttons that made you want to punch him in the face. "Gojo, I swear to god, I almost killed you." You mumbled, staring at the wall in front of you in anger. Gojo giggled against your head, his arms squeezing around you tighter.
"Awww, don't use my last name, you're scary when you do that." He said, trying to roll his body over yours to get a good look at your face. He succeeded in caging his larger body over yours, forcing you to lay on your back, hands crossed over your chest as you looked up at him angrily.
Satoru smiled softly before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away. " Thank you for doing this with me~ I'm sorry if I scared you, you're just so fun to tease~" he cooed. Your expression had softened when he kissed you, but it quickly went back to that of annoyance when he said that last part. You tried to roll over on your side to escape him, but it was futile.
"I was going to put you on a pussyban y'know. Still might, haven't decided yet." You pouted, teasing him back, only your voice was dead serious, making him think your words were too. Who were you kidding, you couldn't last longer than a week without fucking Satoru, you were just as insatiable as he was.
Gojo raised his eyebrows at you shocked as he leaned in to scan your face for sarcasm. "You wouldn't." He challenged, keeping his eyes full of worry on yours. "If you don't get your cum off my ass in the next ten seconds, I might," you responded, turning your head to look up at him. You don't think you've ever seen a man scramble away from you to get a towel so fast in your life.
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kenananamin · 7 months
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Tie my tie, marry me
Summary: The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him
It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.
You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.
Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.
He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.
"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.
Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.
Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.
The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.
It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.
You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.
"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"
You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.
Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.
Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."
His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.
Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.
Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.
Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.
"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"
Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.
13K notes · View notes
bigfatbimbo · 4 months
Note
on my knees begging for some Lucifer smut. Hes such a dork I need him biblically 😭
OMG LITERALLY SAME I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I WANNA EAT HIM UP 🫶🫶
anyways i’m obsessed with him so i’m gonna do nsfw hcs and a little drabble at the end bc bestie i need him too
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art by hellpple_hz on twitters
❀˖° So let me just say, if been a long time since he’s gotten laid so he’s probably so nervous about it.
❀˖° I could see him being a switch but never really a hard dom, more of a sevice top. Like when he tops it would be all about your needs.
❀˖° He definitely loves, probably prefers, when you take control and treat him. He loves feeling cared for it’s so sad.
❀˖° Has a huge praise kink, giving and receiving. He just likes to know he’s doing well. 
❀˖° “good boy” “pretty boy” “pretty baby” are his favorites because he really wants to feel appreciated by you.
❀˖° If you call him on of those during sex he’ll probably whine on the spot because he’s just pathetic like that.
❀˖° Intimacy while doing it is a must. Like please hold his hand when you tell him you’re close. He wants to feel as connected to you as possible.
❀˖° I’m pretty sure Lilith canonically pegged him so… yeah he’s very into that. Being fully taken care of by you while you’re fucking your strap into him.
❀˖° He’s the king of hell and he’s probably very stressed all the time so not having to think or make decisions would make him very happy.
❀˖° When he tops, I feel like he also praises you a lot. I also don’t see him being too dominate and rough.
❀˖° His style is definitely more gentle and caring as he fucks you. He fucks you like you’re made of porcelain, not wanting to break you and only wanting to let you know how perfect you are.
❀˖° I don’t think he’s extremely kinky but I do think he’s SUPER VOCAL. Have you heard his voice? he just sounds like he whines.
❀˖° If you praise him too much he probably tears up under all the attention. Lovingly fucking him and telling him he’s perfect? He will actually cry.
❀˖° When he goes into subspace he’s actually so cute. He just begs you to tell him how well he’s doing and that you love him. To the point where he doesn’t even understand anything else if it’s not praise.
❀˖° Also very sweet during aftercare! Definitely makes breakfast for you the morning after.
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“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good for me,” you cooed as you rode lucifer into what be another orgasm of the night. 
“My love, nngh, please,” he whimpered and threw his head back. His face was puffy from crying and his hair was in shambles from all the attention.
“So pretty like this, sweetheart. So pretty, letting me use you as a toy,” you smile as he lets out a broken whimper from the praise. 
A tear rolls down his cheek and he lets out a soft whine when you roll your hips and pick up the pace. 
You lean forward and breathe into his neck, “you’re doing amazing, Luci, you’re taking it so well.”
He half sobs and arches his back. You pepper kisses all over his tear-covered as your hands lovingly trace his body.
“Please…” he whispers pathetically, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Please what, baby?” You say sweetly as you continue to milk him dry with your pussy.
“Please,” his brows furrow tightly as if he’s trying to remember how to speak under all the pleasure, “please let me cum.”
You smile and ride him faster, starting to loose composure yourself now. 
“Whenever you want, Luci,” you sigh and let your head fall slightly back as you feel your own climax approaching.
Lucifer whined loudly and bucked his hips up into your cunt. 
“My love, nngh,” he moaned uselessly as his eyes filled with more tears. You picked up the pace and Lucifer arched into your touch, chasing his orgasm.
“Good boy, making me feel so good, baby.”
That was his breaking point. With your climax following soon after, he moaned loudly, finally releasing and falling back onto the mattress, chest heaving. 
“Oh my goodness,” he panted, “Th-thank you, my love.” He shut his eyes and softly smiled, exhaustion finally setting in.
“You did amazing,” you say softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek before picking yourself up off of his overstimulated cock.
His eyes fluttered open slightly when he felt your hand slowly tracing down to the base of his cock.
“But we’re not done yet.” 
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a/n: real men say ‘oh my goodness’ after an orgasm
remember that
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msgexymunson · 8 months
Text
Shotgun
Description: you're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 
A/n: do I have 10 WIPs? Yes. Do I have requests I'm working on? Also yes. So logically, I started a one shot from a smutty dream I had, that turned into a freaking long one. Enjoy!
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll feed you to the fishes. Very smutty, a bit of angst, hella fluff! Reader is AFAB, cocky!experienced!Eddie x Virgin!band geek!fem!reader, very slight dub con in the beginning (touching over panties, explicit consent not given), female fingering receiving, dry humping, female oral receiving, p in v protected sex. 
❤️Reblogs are what keep me going; they keep Tumblr going, and my little black heart beating. Reblog my work and I'll love you forever sweetheart. ❤️
12.5k words (oops) 
Masterlist
"You know you guys can't handle this shit!" 
Eddie laughs, nearly spilling the beer cradled in his hand. 
Steve rolls his eyes, chucking his beer top into the campfire you guys had set up for the evening, the paint sparking briefly. 
"Come on Munson, pass it round, quit being a bitch." 
"Yeah Eddie, share the love!" 
Robin giggles as she clutches her chest dramatically. Shaking your head, you shift uncomfortably on the ground. It's not that you haven't been around this sort of stuff before, people you weren't too keen on have smoked once in your company. It wasn't even a moral thing, you were just a little scared of the effect. That, and the fact you were sitting right next to Eddie Munson. 
Eddie, the guy you've literally been frightened of since you saw him leaping on tables in the cafeteria. That was some time ago, and Robin had assured you he was a good guy. You trusted her judgement completely, hence why you'd even considered going camping with the three of them for the weekend. It didn't help the fact that you were just a band geek, not used to these sorts of get togethers. Hell, your closest friends played chess for fun. This was so out of your comfort zone that you felt like a deer in headlights. Only a week ago you had your first beer, at 21; the proper age. Now you were sucking back a brew in the woods at night, sitting next to the drug dealer of the area. 
It could just be the beer talking, but Eddie looks good right now. Every time he shook his mane of hair out of his face it had you biting your lip. He threw his head back when he laughed and the sight of that stretched neck of his had you clenching your thighs, feelings bubbling up that you'd never felt before. 
So when his hand reached out and his fingertips grazed you, a blunt pressed between his thick ringed fingers, you gasped, pulling your hand away as if it had been burned. 
"Come on, take it." 
Your tongue feels thick and swollen, sticking to the roof of your mouth. Words. Think of words. 
"Can't you, erm, pass it the other way?" 
"No, it always goes to the left sweetheart." 
Sweetheart.
Glad the low light hides your blazing cheeks at the pet name, you dip your eyes downward for fear of them exposing you. You played the flute for Christ's sake. This was not your thing. 
"I-I, well, I-" 
"You not smoked before?"
Robin's voice cuts through the myriad of noises in your head, making you turn violently. 
"I just, I never-" 
"Look at me." 
Those words from him sing through your nerves, making you forget any thought you had, or anticipated. As you turn, Eddie's dark eyes bore into you. 
"You trust me?" 
No. A thousand times no.
"Yes." 
"Come here." 
He shifts and gets up on his knees, joint pressed between pouting lips as he lights it again, the cherry blazing almost as hot as your blood right now. You mimic his movements, rising on shaky thighs to kneel in front of him. 
"Right, I'm gonna take a pull, and blow the smoke, when I breathe out, you breathe in, 'kay?" 
His words are sweet, and a little condescending, an edge of talking down that just stirs up your insides further, guts a puddle. 
"Okay." 
He cups his hands to his face, gesturing for you to do the same. Raising your shaking hands, you touch them delicately with his. He flips his hands so they are on the outside, cupping yours, pushing them together with a lot more force than you did. 
He's close, so close. Your breath hitches in your throat, those deep eyes a couple of inches from yours. Heat radiates from his body, your skin itching almost from its blistering warmth. That could just be from the fire. Or the fire in between your legs. 
He smells good. There's weed there, sure, and the beer you've all been drinking, and some aftershave you couldn't place, maybe bergamot? An undercurrent lies beneath it all, of man and skin, that makes your toes curl. 
He breathes into you then, the swirling smoke trying to escape your cupped hands. 
You inhale deeply, focusing on the feel of Eddie's rough hands, on his touch. You breathe in until there's nothing left and hold it. His eyes don't leave yours, sparkling in the fire light. 
The exhale hurts more. Breathing out smoke, you revel in the fact you didn't cough or startle. The feeling of him letting go of your hands is far worse. 
A ringing, whooping noise finally reaches your ears, between the sound of your own blood pumping. Robin and Steve are cheering like morons, but your gaze doesn't leave Eddie. 
"There you go. Good girl." 
Damn. 
A sharp intake of breath pulls into your lungs and straight to your heat. The pure shock and desire those two words drew from you have you dropping backwards, butt slamming into the pine needle dusted ground. 
"Hey you OK?" Robin's hand on your shoulder distracts you briefly and you flash a weak smile. 
"Sure, just went to my head a little, I'm good." 
Eddie's hand reaches over you, passing the blunt to Robin. You dare not look him in the eye, fearful that everything you felt was written all over your innocent face. Out of your periphery, you can tell he's facing you. Suddenly the fire was extremely interesting. 
Robin has a couple of tokes, and tries a third when Steve waves at her. 
"Quit hogging it!" 
"OK, don't get your panties in a twist!" Passing it to Steve with a loud huff, he takes it and breathes deep. And promptly coughs his guts out. 
Robin and Eddie cackle, and even you can spare a giggle at the irony. 
"Told you Harrington. Even the little band cutie took it better than you!" 
"Fuck off Munson." 
Hell, he knows who I am. And he called me cute.
This is Eddie. Scary, metal head, drug dealer Eddie. Eddie who all of a sudden stirs your insides up and makes your head dizzy. Eddie who you now realise is actually goddamn gorgeous. 
Eddie takes a hit and turns to you. 
"You wanna try smoking it sweetheart?" 
Heart hammering in your ribs, you manage to speak. 
"C-can you do, that thing, again?" 
His smile is dipped in sin as he scoots nearer to you, and you copy him. Suddenly this seems more intimate, sitting on the ground, twisting to face each other, inches away. He takes a hit and holds it, gesturing at you to lean closer. The way he tilts his head, you could almost believe he's going to kiss you. This time, he cups your face, blowing smoke at you. It's so close his lips brush yours ever so softly. 
You're not sure if your inhale was intentional or a shocked gasp, but in the smoke goes. 
Did he mean to do that? 
One look into his eyes tells you yes. There's a cockiness to his grin, the devil dancing across his face. 
So, did he do it because he likes you, or is he just messing with you? Only Eddie knows the answer to that. 
You exhale, less than an inch from his full lips. Time stops. That is until Steve and his loud mouth break the spell. 
"Come on, get a room you guys!" He practically yells, throwing a twig in your direction. 
You snap your head away from Eddie and stare at Steve with wild eyes. 
"I-I wasn't, we- we weren't-" 
"We weren't? Well, that's a damn shame."
As you glance back at Eddie he's leaning on propped up elbows, looking so sure of himself that it's annoying, bordering on making you angry. 
Cheeks flooding with warmth, your mouth forms words without checking with your brain first. 
"Y-you know what you are Eddie?" 
He tilts his head at you, still smirking, and gestures a hand willing you to continue. 
"A cocky mother fucker." 
The grin falls from his face as he looks at you in shock. Robin and Steve practically piss themselves laughing at your sudden outburst. 
"Shit Eddie you better watch out!" Robin laughs out. 
"Yeah, that kitty's got claws dude." Steve agrees. 
Embarrassed at your own words, you risk glancing at Eddie. You were expecting him to be upset, angry even. That's not the case; he looks impressed. 
"Shit, yeah, I can see that. Didn't know you had it in you sweetheart." 
Smiling to yourself, you stretch your legs and wiggle your feet. You impressed him. Your turn for a smug smile. 
Pretty soon the high starts to settle in; a warmth seeps through your bones and a tingle spreads from your head into your body. It feels like you're quivering whilst sitting still. Steve offers you another beer but you turn it down, well aware that being too foggy right now would be a bad idea. Especially since Eddie has been creeping closer. Now you're side by side, hips so close any time he moves he brushes against you. 
The fire dies down, turning to embers. The beer coat has vanished, leaving you shivering. Steve and Robin are already under a blanket; you can see Robin's eyes are close to closing. 
"You ok there sweetheart? Cold?" 
"I-I'm O-OK." 
"No you aren't, you're shaking." 
Without a further word he's taking off his jacket and putting his arm firmly around you. Whatever space there was between you has melted away, sides now flush. 
You could say the same for your face. This may well be the closest you've been to a boy. Well, a man. He drapes the jacket over the pair of you, covering your crossed legs and his lap, and rubs his hand smoothly up and down your arm to warm you. Little does he know how much he's warming your insides, each stroke sending a buzzing desire through your limbs. 
Steve's chatting away; yet another story about Dustin spilling from his lips when you feel Eddie's other hand snaking underneath the jacket, coming to rest on your thigh. 
Eyes wide, you flick your gaze towards him. 
"What are you doing?" You whisper urgently. 
"Just warming you up sweetheart." 
He says it so sweetly, yet it belies the movements of his hand, moving further up your leg to run soft circles just underneath the hem of your skirt. 
You can't hear a word Steve is saying, unable to concentrate on anything but Eddie's touch and the whooshing blood in your ears. No one had ever touched you like this, not once.  
Robin's shrill voice breaks through the fizzing in your head; once again her and Steve are arguing over something. You might have heard Vickie being mentioned but you can't be sure. 
Eddie's hand trails higher, within reach of your panties. Breath catching in your throat, you mean to admonish him but all that comes out is a breathy noise. 
"Eddie…" 
He rests his chin on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your ear. 
"You want me to stop?" 
You don't answer, you can't. You're frozen, unable to move, unable to make a sound lest a moan escape your lips. 
He wouldn't dare, not with Steve and Robin here, would he?
He would. 
Eddie runs a finger gently down the front of your panties. The softest touch, a whisper of a thing. Then he does it again, up and down, pressing the cotton of your briefs into your private parts. 
You can feel your insides fluttering, a burning settling between your legs, being stoked by every barely there touch. Suddenly, he presses down on something that has you softly whimpering and clenching at nothing. A tingle shoots down your legs to the tips of your toes. 
You hear a small noise; it's Eddie chuckling in his throat. It snaps you out of your frozen state and you move to get up. 
"I'm going to bed guys." 
Standing abruptly, you let Eddie's jacket fall from you as he scrambles to keep it over his own lap. 
You turn to your tent and hear Steve and Robin wish you goodnight, and mumble about going to bed soon too. 
"Night guys!" 
"Want any company sweetheart?" 
There he is, sitting with that arrogant look on his face. 
"Goodnight, Eddie." 
You say it firmly, even though your resolve is as substantial as tissue paper. Stomping over to your tent, you turn on your camp light and sit on your double inflatable bed, hugging your knees. 
Now that you're alone you realise how much that weed affected you. You feel airy, light as a feather, fingers and toes still tingling. 
It must be the drugs. 
You focus on the reality of the situation. You just let some guy touch you down there. Eddie Munson touched you over your panties. 
So why weren't you scared? Or angry at him? It's not like he asked. The fact is that  no one's done anything like that to you before, and it felt incredible. Left you aching for more. That thought was making you more frightened than anything else. 
You listen to the group slowly pad their way off to bed, rustles of clothing, mumbled 'goodnights', and tent zips. 
To the left of your tent was the huge six berth Steve had brought for him and Robin. It was fancy, you assume he 'borrowed' it from his parents. On the cusp of hearing there was bickering. You don't know how Robin and Steve became friends, or how they maintained it since they acted like an old married couple most of the time, but it seemed to work. After a few minutes soft snores echoed from the two of them. 
No sound comes from the other side, where Eddie had pitched a little coffin tent. You wonder if he's still sitting by the dying embers of the fire. He's probably smoking. 
Stop thinking about him.
You undress, only pulling an oversized t-shirt on to sleep in since your big sleeping bag is so warm. You'd bought a double one with your birthday money last year because you hated feeling restricted. It was a luxury but with all the camping you did it just made sense. Snuggling into its spacious depths, you attempt to quiet the raging hormones coursing through your veins. 
God, why is he so annoying and smug? It burned you up, but you couldn't deny how much it turned you on. 
You slide your hand between your legs, pressing hard to try and quench the fire. He did something, you're sure of it. This wasn't natural for you, movements unsure and bordering on clumsy. When you run your finger through your naked folds you whimper, and see how wet you are. Gasping, you explore further, and find that spot, a hidden nub that sends a bolt of lightning to your core. 
"Oh fuck," you breathe out in a moan, starting to rub up and down. 
"You alright in there sweetheart?" 
Oh shit, he's right outside the tent. Was he there the whole time? 
"Yeah, what do you want?" 
"I'm cold, can I come in?" 
No.
"Y-yeah." 
He unzips the tent and enters, crouching to accommodate his height. Closing the tent up, he takes in his surroundings, letting out a low whistle. 
"Pretty sweet set up you've got here, your folks rich or something?" 
"No, I just do a lot of camping with the troop." 
"Huh?" He looks confused, falling to his knees to look you in the eyes. 
"The girl scouts, I volunteer as a leader." 
The laughter that comes from him is loud and rich. 
"Fuck, you got that little innocent act down don't you?" 
It's your turn to look confused. 
"What on earth are you talking about Eddie?" 
He scoffs at you, clearly not buying it. 
"The cute little band geek thing, helping out with girl scouts. Shit, the whole 'can you do that thing again?' " He mimics your words from earlier and you flush crimson. 
"Eddie, I honestly don't know what you're going on about. I never smoked before, I hadn't even had a beer before my 21st last week. I've never even- no one's done what you did, outside." 
Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor. 
"You're fucking with me." 
You shake your head, lips pressed tight. 
"Well, now I feel like an asshole." He huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 
"Well maybe you should, you never asked." 
"I'm sorry, I just- I thought you were one of those freaky band kids. You kept looking at me like you were gonna eat me alive, I thought I was in for a rough night." He laughs, shooting a gaze at you. 
"Well you thought wrong." You turn your head, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 
"I'll go if you want. Want me to leave?" 
Yes. 
"No." 
A smile spreads slowly across his face, and he inches closer to you on his hands and knees, palms splayed on the foot of your air bed. 
"So, you want me to stay?" 
"No." 
"So… should I sleep in the doorway?"
A fair question, considering your answer. You laugh, looking back at him. His smile is softer, much less mocking. It's sweet almost, sanding down your rough edges. 
"Yeah, you can be my bodyguard. Protect me from bears and mountain lions and stuff." 
He chuckles and climbs over; you lay back on instinct, further away. Leaning right over you, his face is an inch from yours, hair tickling your cheek. 
"You know, I could protect this beautiful body of yours better if I was in the sleeping bag with you." 
"You don't give up, do you?" You whisper into his skin, sounding braver than you felt. 
"It was the sweet and innocent thing, did me in." 
He plants a soft kiss to your cheek, brushing your skin, and another, to the corner of your mouth that makes you shiver. 
"Tell me to stop." 
"Eddie, kiss me." 
His mouth is on your then, hot and heavy, tongue begging at your bottom lip. You give him an inch and he takes a mile, tongue sliding against yours with practised movements. Not expecting the full force of his kiss, you suddenly realise you're moaning into his mouth, hands coming to wind into his loose locks. 
He breaks away, chuckling at the way you chase his lips. 
"You know, you don't kiss like a good girl." 
Merely whining in response, you try to catch your breath. 
"So, can I get in the sleeping bag? I'm freezing out there." 
"Fine, just, no funny business." You point your finger at him, gasping when he licks it long and slow. 
"Nothing you don't want me to do." He winks, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. 
"What are you doing?" 
He ignores you, pulling his socks off and  unbuttoning his jeans. 
"I'm getting undressed. Why, expect me to sleep in my jeans?" 
You merely screw your nose up in response. Stripped down to his boxers, he clambers his lithe body onto the sleeping bag with you, all elbows and knees. Sighing, you move over to accommodate him but he wraps his arms around you. 
"Eddie, what-" 
"I'm cold sweetheart, just, warm me up a little?" 
Your heart is hammering in your ribcage with the realisation that you're entirely out of control of this situation. You allow him to hold you, and hesitantly rest your arm over him. Your head is snuggled into his neck, feeling more comfortable than you had any right to be. 
"Eddie, your legs are freezing." 
"I know! I wasn't lying, my sleeping bag's shitty." 
He pushes his thigh between yours, and you remember a split second too late that you're not wearing any bottoms. Suddenly, his bare thigh is pressed against your naked heat. You're praying to any Gods that might be listening that he doesn't notice, attempting to stay as still as possible. 
He's warming up slowly, but you're stiff as a post, trying not to focus on his thigh and the slight pressure it's putting on your most delicate parts. 
"So, you gonna tell me what you were doing sweetheart?" 
"What?" You whisper into the soft skin of his neck.
"Well, I came out of my tent to see if you were still awake, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning." 
"N-no, I wasn't!" 
"Quit lying, I can feel your cunt on my leg." 
You nearly choke on your own saliva. 
"Eddie, you can't just say that!"
You hit him on the chest. He just laughs, dragging your little fist to his mouth to kiss it. 
"I can when you're soaking my leg." 
Opening your mouth to respond, all words escape you. Especially when he grinds his thigh against your folds. Instead of words, a whimper breaks from your lips. 
"Yeah? That good sweetheart?" 
The smugness is back, but you can't find it in you to care, not when he rocks his hips and the force of his leg sets loose a roll of pleasure. He's hard, it's pressing into your hip. 
A lean arm curls around you, his thick thumb finding its way to your chin to lift it upwards. You stare into his darkened eyes as they dart to your lips and back up. 
All resolve is dissolved like ash in the rain as you feel the intensity of his stare and the warmth of him between your thighs. You crash your lips to his desperately, hips chasing friction. When his heavy tongue slips into your mouth you respond in kind, needy and vigorous. 
He takes his thigh away and you huff at the loss, but it's not for long, not when that hand of his is stroking down your front, lightly massaging your hardened nipples and chasing down to your stomach. He cups your mound, one finger pushing down on your swollen nub. 
"Eddie." 
It's a whimper, a plea into his open mouth. Responding by biting your bottom lip softly, he dips his finger lower, circling your entrance gently. His finger slips inside then and you clench around it immediately, moaning at the foreign feeling. It's odd, yes, but it's so good that you cry out. 
"Gotta be quiet sweetheart, don't want anyone hearing me fuck you with my fingers." 
His crude words are peppering your insides with fire, the evidence of your arousal seeping out of you. Humming in response, you bite your lip, clinging desperately to his side. 
He slowly pumps his finger in and out, watching your face. You're slick jawed, eyebrows knitted tight, hips rolling with each thrust of his hand. 
"Fuck you're so tight, can barely fit my finger in." 
"Eddie, no one's ever-" 
"Shhh, I fuckin' know sweetheart. Gonna make you feel really good. Just enjoy it." 
He curls his finger inside you, incessantly stroking at something that's making your legs tense up and your insides flutter around him, the heel of his hand flat and hard against that spot again. 
"Oh my God!" You whisper urgently, fingernails digging into his sides. 
"I know baby, feels good yeah?" 
"Uh huh" you manage to breathe out as your eyes squeeze shut. 
The pressure collating in your tummy is building and building as he speeds up, finger reaching deep inside. It releases, and flows from you, wave after wave crashing down and washing away everything but Eddie. 
You muffle your cries of pleasure in the skin of Eddie's chest, resisting the urge to clamp your teeth into his flesh.
As you come down, he releases his digit with a wet sucking sound that probably would have made you embarrassed five minutes ago, but now it's just inconsequential. 
"Still with me?" He asks softly as he hugs you close. 
"Barely" You mumble; he chuckles at your reply. 
He rolls you on top of him, moving your legs so you're straddling him. His hard on is pressing firmly into your privates, your slick dampening the front of his boxers immediately. 
"Eddie, I'm not- I can't have sex with-" 
"Sweetheart, you trust me?" 
Yes. 
"No."
There's that look again, that edge of mocking that isn't making you annoyed anymore, it's making you want to pull his underwear down and slip him inside of you. 
"I'm not gonna fuck you. Not unless you want me to. Relax sweetheart." 
His hands are on your ass, moving you against him to grind on his rock hard bulge. Your eyes widen, the friction so much better than his thigh. 
He lets out a stifled moan, and damn if it isn't the best noise you've heard in your life. 
His hands trail under your shirt as you take over moving against him, feeling the shape of him under you. Tugging at the hem, he looks up at you with pleading eyes. 
"Can I- can I take this off?" 
All feelings of modesty have fled and you whip your shirt over your head and fling it across the tent. 
"Fuck, look at you." 
Leaning forward he takes your nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue around and around. 
"Eddie, oh Holy fuck!" 
Your movements become faster and sloppy, so he grabs you by the hips to slow you down. 
"You know what I think?" He says, in between wet open mouthed kisses to your breasts, "I think you are a freak. You just didn't know it yet." He chuckles darkly, and sucks hard at one of your nipples. 
Your moan is loud and bordering on pornographic as you rut yourself against him harshly, all pretence of keeping quiet forgotten as your stomach tightens again in thick knots of pleasure. 
"Oh Eddie, I'm- I'm gonna cum oh fuckfuckfuck!" 
It all undoes at once as you release and clench around nothing, pussy throbbing with ecstasy. The bones in your body seem to disintegrate, muscles a distant memory as you flop against him. 
Eddie's not done. 
"Come on sweetheart, just a little longer." 
He encourages your hips to move again as you lay on his chest, skin glowing with perspiration. You can only grunt in response and start grinding against him again, the feeling so intense it has you clenching your teeth with pleasure pain. 
"That's it, fuck, I'm so close. There's my good girl, just, oh shit, little more." 
His praise bubbles through you and you speed up to meet his rutting hips, your slick sticking to the tops of your thighs. 
"Feel so good sweetheart, oh shit!" 
Lifting your head, you do it just in time to watch Eddie's eyes screw shut, mouth panting open with pleasure as he holds your hips in a death grip. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing. You press your lips to it softly, leaving feather dusted kisses over his neck and jaw as he comes down from his glowing high. 
"Holy shit." He laughs into you, kissing the top of your head over your hair. 
"Indeed" your reply is breathless as you melt into his front, attempting to ignore the stickiness. 
"As much as I'm enjoying you naked on top of me, I need to, er-" He gestures vaguely at himself with one hand. For a minute you think he's just going to go, but instead he wriggles out of the sleeping bag and whips his boxers down. 
You sit back on your heels, mouth agape as he casually cleans his spend with his underwear, wiping at the matted pubic hair. He's big; you could feel him under you but now you're faced with it you fear your eyes may bug out of your head. 
Glancing down, you can see some of his cum escaped its fabric confinement; a few drops glisten on your lower abdomen. Curiosity gets the better of you as you gather it on your fingers to feel the consistency, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. It's stickier than you thought. You bring your thumb to your mouth and suck the excess off. It's salty, and strange, but not unpleasant exactly. 
When your eyes meet again Eddie looks awestruck, staring at you with the queerest expression on his face. 
Embarrassed at being caught, you hide your hand behind your back as if scolded. 
"Sorry, was that wrong?" 
"No, fuck no," he chuckles, looking away, "just have to stop looking at me like that sweetheart." 
"Why?" 
"Hell, 'cause you're making me hard again." 
"Oh." 
You shyly put your head down and settle back down in the sleeping bag's warmth. To your amazement Eddie gets in with you. 
"What are you doing?" 
"I thought you said I could stay? Or you had enough of me?" 
"N-no, I just… well, you're naked." 
He laughs hard at that. 
"So are you." 
Nothing about this seems to phase him, but your mind is swirling around and around. You'd just had your first orgasms ever, and now you're going to be sleeping naked with a man. With Eddie Munson.  
He's so much warmer now, skin hot to the touch. Hesitantly, you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you close, picking up your little camp light with the other hand, fiddling with it briefly before offering it to you. 
"Can you switch this thing off?" 
You reach and press the button, plunging you both into darkness. 
"Night sweetheart." 
"Night Eddie." 
********************
Early morning light wakes you, filtering through the tent fabric, coating everything in a warm glow. 
Eddie is still here, laying on his back, snoring softly with you cuddled to his chest. You'd hate to admit it, but you were glad. Glad he didn't run off in the night. Glad that last night had actually happened and wasn't just your over active imagination playing some cruel joke. 
Laying there, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you take a second to really think. 
What was actually happening? A part of you is frightened; scared that maybe Eddie sees your virginity as a challenge. Maybe that's why he stayed? You were staying another night after all. Or maybe this is a little holiday romance, something to keep him occupied whilst he's away. You'd had one before at band camp; nothing serious, just kisses and cuddles and radio silence on your return. 
What were Robin and Steve going to say? You contemplated waking him up right now to sneak him back to his own tent, but that thought went straight out the window when you caught the sound of their tent being unzipped. 
A soft bash to your tent startles you and makes Eddie snort himself awake. 
"Hey guys I'm making coffee! Come and join us!" 
Robin sings out and walks away to fuss over the fire it sounds like. 
Oh Holy shit balls. Hey guys?? She knew Eddie was here. And if she knew, Steve knew. 
Eddie smirks down at you as you stare at him with wild panic in your eyes. 
"Guess our little secret is out sweetheart." 
Before you can say a word he's unzipping the sleeping bag and fumbling about for his jeans, slipping them clumsily onto his legs. 
"Eddie!" You whisper urgently. He just chuckles. 
"What, want me to cut a hole in the back of the tent? Tunnel out?" 
He's got a point. 
"Eddie, please just don't-" 
"Hey, I ain't one to kiss and tell, relax." 
Before you can say another word he's perching a cigarette in between his plump lips and making his way out of the tent. 
Fuck. 
You pull on your clothes hastily, a skirt and t-shirt, and slide on your sneakers, attempting to untangle some of the messy bed head that had been created during the night. 
It's now or never. 
You exit the tent, attempting to look as casual about it as you can. 
"Morning guys." 
Steve smiles at you. 
"Howdy cowgirl." 
"Hi?" 
You return his greeting, utterly confused, but by the sound of Robin shushing him violently and Eddie coughing on his cigarette you can only assume he meant something by that which went over your head. Robin breaks the tension, talking a mile a minute. 
"Hey sleepy head! You want a coffee? I just made it over the fire. Crazy! I know it took forever. It'll wake you up. Not that you need waking up you're up and about and it's early! It's not like you had a long night. Well you might have how would I know anyway here's your coffee!!" 
Seems you might have gotten a little loud, why else would Robin be breaking the sound barrier? You don't say a thing, just smile gratefully and take your coffee, entirely avoiding Eddie's eyes, and try to wish the blood away from your darkening cheeks. 
"So, we thought we might have a swim in the lake in a couple hours when it's warmer, you in?" 
Steve asks and you nod, aware your voice right now is not to be trusted. 
So, after a little breakfast and small talk about the cold last night, which you put a particular emphasis on to try and explain away your little situation, you all go and change into your swimwear. 
In your tent you lay out your usual one piece, the plain black one you always wear with the troop, and the other set. The bikini you bravely bought but never wore, deeming it far too skimpy for camp. But this wasn't girl scouts. 
God damn he's already seen me naked, come on, be brave. 
Skimpy number it is. You wear it underneath your clothes and grab a towel and a book, readying yourself to join the others. 
Eddie and Steve walk ahead, talking obnoxiously loud; something you're quite glad of. At least they aren't whispering about you. 
Robin walks side by side with you, practically vibrating. 
"Just, whatever you wanna say, say it before you explode." 
The voice that exits her mouth is so high pitched you're surprised dogs didn't start barking. 
"You had sex with Eddie Munson!" 
"I did not!" 
"Totally did, we saw you!" 
You stop in your tracks, mouth hanging open.
"What the fuck Robin!" 
"Sorry, we didn't actually like, see you see you, we saw your shadows, 'cause of the light in your tent." 
"We- I- I mean, we didn't, like, have sex, we just- did something else." You settle at lamely. 
"Are you going to? He really likes you." 
You scoff at that, continuing your walk. 
"He's just trying to get in my pants, take my virginity. I doubt he'll even talk to me after." 
Robin's hand shoots out to grab your arm. 
"Oh, you don't know, do you?" 
Feeling utterly confused, you turn to face her. 
"What are you going on about?" 
"Eddie likes you, he had a crush on you in high school. He was the one that suggested inviting you and nearly killed me when I actually did." 
Your world turns sideways in your mind; everything is upside down, thoughts smashed, memories cut to ribbons in their wake.
"Huh? How- what?" 
"He was telling Steve like a week ago, I was listening in and opened my mouth as per usual. I tried to tell you, remember?" 
You rack your brains trying to come up with answers when a light bulb switches in your head. 
"Hang on, you said Eddie wanted me to go before, didn't you? I honestly thought you were just joking with me, I didn't think he knew who I was!" 
You reach the tree line and see the two boys a little further on, just on the tiny beach leading to the lake, stripping off their clothes. 
"But he was so- so sure of himself!" 
"Oh he's always like that. Pretty sure it's an act, he's actually super sweet when you get to know him." 
You look up and stare at Eddie in his swim shorts. He'd been naked last night, but with the low light and distraction of seeing his privates for the first time you hadn't had the opportunity to really look at him all over. 
He was lean and tall, but there was a broadness to his shoulders and a sinew to his muscles that made him stand out. Tattoos littered his frame, more than you thought he had but the detail was lost at this distance. You were walking closer, still staring at him, when he captures you. Smiling that smug grin of his he holds his arms out as if on display. 
"See something you like sweetheart?" 
On the edge of shying away, you look down; but then you remember Robin's words. He's the one with the crush on you. Feeling a little braver, bolstered by that thought, you walk closer, a couple of feet away from him, and stop. 
"You look really good Eddie." 
Pulling your t-shirt over your head, you smile at Eddie's reaction. Clearly not expecting such a bold move from you, his cheeks and neck are flushed pink. For once he seems speechless. You slip your skirt off and away, kicking it to one side. 
This leaves you in your tiny baby blue triangle bikini, with delicate daisies embroidered on the hem. For once, your cleavage is fully displayed, and the ties for the bottoms ride high on your hips. You slip two fingers under each tied side and pull them up ever so slightly. 
Eddie's eyes dart down and back up again, and you swear you see him swallow thickly in his throat. 
"Well, you swimming or not handsome?" 
Without a further glance you kick your shoes off and wade into the chilly water. 
OK, keep calm, just look at him now. 
Risking a quick peek back, you see him standing gormlessly on the sand, mouth hanging open. He looks so dorky, so unlike the Eddie you've seen so far that you giggle aloud. 
Steve calls out to him, already in the clear water. He's stumbling into the lake after you then as if a fire was lit underneath him. Robin makes her way in too, and pretty sure you're laughing and splashing each other in earnest, the boys taking turns in dunking each other underwater. 
Steve keeps screaming about his hair, which just makes you all laugh that little bit louder. Soon he's moping about it and swims off surprisingly fast. Robin says she wants to dry out and wanders back to the beach to read a little, leaving you and Eddie alone. 
He swims straight to you, bodies a couple of inches apart. Suddenly the water doesn't feel so cold, warmed by the heat he seems to pull from you just by being close. That ache is there again, wanting to be filled by Eddie. You try and shake the thought away. 
"Seems a little skimpy for a scout leader," he says, gesturing at your two piece. 
"Well, I don't wear this one with the troop," you reply, attempting to look blasé about it. 
"So, wore this just for me, sweetheart?" 
You shrug, but know your eyes betray you, honesty etched into the look you give him. 
"You did, didn't you? That's cute," he responds to his own question, reaching a hand up to hold you by the waist. All of a sudden his breath is in your ear, his other hand reaching up to your chest. 
"You look hot by the way, I like the little flowers," as he says it he runs a finger over the hem of your bikini bra making you shudder. 
"Eddie," you whisper, meaning to scold him but it just comes out a little too breathy for that. 
He continues to whisper in your ear, each word sending a butterfly loose in your swirling stomach.  "Wondering if I can stay in that tent of yours again. To stay warm?" 
You laugh, turning to face him. "That's not all you want and you know it." 
"Yeah?" He comes closer, lips so close to brushing yours, holding your chin between thumb and forefinger. You clench your thighs together as your eyes flutter shut. 
"Seems you want more as well," he laughs, pulling back from you. The frown that appears on your face tells him all he needs to know. 
As he moves away, his hand drops down, knuckles dragging slowly over your nipple, already pebbled by the water. 
"Maybe later princess." 
He turns to get out of the water. Furious with how forward he just was you shout after him. 
"Eddie, you are such-" 
"A cocky mother fucker?" He shouts back, stealing your thunder. 
You clench your fists, nearly losing it treading water, and decide to swim away to cool off. 
You're finding Robin's words hard to believe. He still seems so confident; maybe his little chat with Steve was a rouse to get you here so he could tease you. If he has liked you all this time, maybe it's just a sexual thing. Seduce the band geek. 
When the ache between your thighs is lessened by the burning muscles in your arms and legs you swim back to shore and dry off, laying on your towel to read. 
It's like the universe has it in for you today. A few more pages into your fantasy book and suddenly there's a sex scene. Usually, you'd just skim over the 'fruity bits' as your mom called them but now? Now it was as if Eddie had altered your brain chemistry and you found yourself absorbing every word in detail, thighs clenched together almost to the point of pain. 
"What you reading?" 
You jump visibly and look up to see Eddie couching over you, sodden locks leaving pitter patter drips on your legs. 
"Eddie, you're dripping." 
He smiles mischievously. 
"Am I making you wet, sweetheart?" 
You roll your eyes and replace your bookmarker, putting your book down to one side. 
"Yes, Eddie, I'm soaking wet for you." 
Triumph flashes over your features as you take in his wide eyes; so shocked at your reply he's nearly choking on air. 
"You are strange Eddie. You can give it but you can't take it, can you?" 
His eyebrows raise and he attempts to cover his flustered appearance. 
"I'm just surprised, I thought you were a good girl." 
Ignoring your heart thumping hard in your chest at those words, you shrug. 
"And here I was thinking it was because you've had a crush on me since high school." 
Eddie opens his mouth, and promptly closes it. When he speaks again it's quieter, almost like he's embarrassed. 
"Who- how did-" 
"Robin." 
"Of course." 
He stares at you then, all bravado gone. A moment passes where you both try and work out what this means, what the other is thinking.
Eddie coughs and stands up, breaking the spell. 
"We're heading back to have lunch, if you wanna come." 
He walks off then, not a further glance at you. Wondering if you upset him somehow, you gather your things and head back to camp. 
********************
Later that evening, you're huddled around a campfire again having a couple of beers; or, in the case of Steve, several beers. Eddie had been civil, nice even, but there was no edge to him right now. You're not sure if you miss it or not, realising that you had actually grown fond of the push and pull between you, and that grin of his. 
He'd disappeared at one point, and returned a little later with his acoustic guitar; beginning playing a little aimlessly, just background music to your tiny circle. He played beautifully; it really was mesmerising to watch his fingers dance over the strings. 
"Play me a song, Eddie." You say, before you realise you were saying it aloud. 
"Yeah?" He flashes a small smile and you encourage him by placing your hand on his knee. 
"OK, just for you then sweetheart." 
He breaks into a rendition of Should I Stay Or Should I Go, by the Clash. You're almost certain it's a jab at you because of last night and your failure to make your mind up. You don't mind; listening to the rest of the lyrics you realise you're hoping he means more than just a little in-joke. If you say that you are mine, I'll be here till the end of time.
When he finishes you all clap, Robin as quickly as a bird's wings flutters, and Steve just a little too loudly, probably due to too much alcohol. 
"Thank you Eddie, that was brilliant." You smile softly at him. 
"No problem sweets." He moves to put the guitar away but you wave your arm at him. 
"Can I play something?" 
A sharp intake of breath rings out from Steve and Robin but you pay it no mind. Eddie looks at you like he's sizing you up. Seems he comes to the conclusion that you aren't just going to pull some rockstar move and smash it on the ground, he passes it to you carefully. 
You take it reverently in your hands and get comfortable with it, tuning the G string slightly as it was a little off when you heard it. 
An idea springs to mind and you grin deviously to Robin over the fire, a grin which is reciprocated. She knows what you're about to do. The Band Camp thing.
You start to play the very beginning of a song extremely loudly, singly wildly off key.
"Kumbaya, my Lord-" 
"Don't you fuckin' dare!" Eddie shouts, lurching a hand toward you to clamp over the fret. 
"I'm kidding!" You giggle, prying his fingers away. Robin's laughing and Steve looks like he's about to burst, swaying in his seat. 
"OK, no funny business." 
"Not unless you ask for it." You wink, and start to play what you had intended all along. 
"One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all…"
You lose yourself in the song, the melody. When you were younger you had just assumed it was nothing but a song about Alice in Wonderland. You knew better now, but it was fun to play and it suited your voice. 
As you came to the conclusion your eyes fluttered shut and you sang out the last couple of lines like no one was even there. 
"Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head!"
Whooping and clapping finally reaches your ears as you open your eyes. Robin is going insane; Steve is shouting but it sounds slurred. Eddie just looks stunned as you pass his precious guitar back to him.
"You're incredible sweetheart." He looks genuinely impressed, staring at you with such intensity it makes you squirm. 
"It was OK, my strumming's a little sloppy." 
"But your voice! Jesus Christ, I've got goosebumps. You should sing, like, all the time." 
You laugh, swatting him with your hand. 
"I think that might get a little annoying." 
"I'd love to listen to it all the time." 
The sweet moment is broken by Robin gagging loudly. 
"Munson that was so cheesy I'm gonna hurl." 
He just shrugs, unbothered, and puts his guitar away. You didn't think it was too cheesy. In fact, you're breathless, thoughtless. The ache was settling back in, so deep in your bones there was no willing it away. It was clear; you needed him. Biblically. 
As that realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, a soft thud breaks through to you. Steve has fallen backwards, already snoring. 
"Well, looks like he needs to go to bed. Give me a hand guys." 
Eddie stands up and lifts Steve bodily round his waist. Robin and you hover nearby, but he doesn't need your help after all. 
Steve's giggling childishly, slurring words together. 
"Don' wanna go bed, wan' sing too!" 
"Sing in the morning, big guy." 
You help Robin tuck him into his sleeping bag, as Steve mumbles Kumbaya under his breath. 
Robin huffs. "I'll take it from here," and quieter, just to you, she whispers, "I'm putting earplugs in, go have fun." 
"Robin, I-" 
"Shhh you'll wake the baby. Just go, go!" 
You leave the tent and see Eddie sitting by the fire, rolling a joint. 
"Erm, Robin's going to bed too." 
"Oh?" He looks at you, quirking one eyebrow. "Are you?" 
"I'm not tired." 
That shit-eating grin of his is back, tugging at the corners of his mouth slowly. 
You sit down, right next to him, knees touching. He finishes rolling, licking it closed with a pointed tongue you can't help but stare at. 
As he starts smoking, you finally let loose what's been on your mind all day. 
"Why did you act funny with me? After I said you have a crush?" 
He huffs a little laugh, blowing smoke through his nose. 
"I thought that was obvious. I was embarrassed." 
"Really? I didn't know Eddie Munson could get embarrassed." 
He takes another drag and looks away. 
"Yeah, well it happens. I don't like people knowing too much about me. Rather come across as mean and scary and-" 
"-cocky?" 
"Ha, yeah." 
It's quiet again, but not a loaded quiet. You feel comfortable, almost enjoying the silence; just the slight rustle of pine needles in the breeze, and an owl hooting far away. 
"You want some of this?" 
Eddie's touch pulls you back to the moment, rough fingertips grazing you. The touch burns again, but differently this time. This time you melt under it. 
"Can you, do that thing?" You ask in a small voice. 
He smiles wickedly, straightening his legs out. 
"Come here" He says as he pats his lap. You straddle him awkwardly, not sure if this is what he meant, but a firm hand grabs you by the ass and shifts you closer to him so your chests are flush. 
"Like this?" You ask quietly, breathing the question. 
"Just like that baby." 
He takes a long toke and beckons you forward with one finger. When you're in range, nose lightly brushing his, he brings your chin toward him with one firm hand and presses his lips to your mouth. 
Stiffening with surprise, you quickly soften, disarmed by his lips. You part yours and he breathes the smoke into you, allowing you to inhale deeply. Breaking away, you exhale the smoke downwards and look into his deep eyes. 
"Do it again." 
He bites his lip and smiles, flashing his teeth. He repeats the gesture; taking a pull, smashing his lips to yours and breathing into you. He doesn't let you pull away to breathe out; instead he presses his tongue into your mouth. Smoke burns your nose as you submit to him, the kiss becoming filthy and desperate as he grips onto the flesh of your ass. 
Finally he lets up, if only to breathe. You're both panting, electricity in the air passing between and through you. 
"I like it like that." You smile, hand resting on his chest. 
"You keep surprising me sweetheart." He responds, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips. 
A fuzziness rushes through every nerve, all of your body crying out, singing for him. 
"You know, I don't mind cocky Eddie." 
"Yeah? I thought I annoyed you." 
"A little. But it kinda turns me on." You respond, rolling your hips into him.
"Oh fuck sweetheart," he roughly grips you, forcing you to do it again, "you drive me fuckin' crazy." 
He's on your neck, kissing and licking at you almost tenderly. 
"Eddie, please," you whisper, mind abandoning any clarity as he kisses you. 
"Please? What do you need, sweetheart?" 
How can you answer? What do you need?
"Eddie, I-I need you, please," you whisper into his ear, rocking against his hardening bulge. 
He bites down on your neck, eliciting a gasp to spill from your lips. 
"Tent." Is all he manages to say, and you stumble upwards on wobbly legs, to lead him to it. 
Fumbling for the zip, you just about get inside it when you feel his hands on you gently pushing you forward. A small touch is all it takes and you're falling onto the air bed, knees bending as you collapse face forward. 
He's on your back before you can think, firm arms caging you in from behind. 
"You need me? Really?" 
You nod, squirming underneath him, a small hand curling around his forearm. 
"Dreamed about you saying that, fuck." He whispers, lips pressing to your shoulder, "turn around." 
You can't find it in you to not comply. Wobbling the mattress, you twist to face him, engulfed in the intensity of his stare, illuminated by the fading light emanating from the fire. 
"Say it again." It's soft, but ironclad in the centre. 
"I need you Eddie." 
"Fuck" He huffs, moving down your torso, pulling your t-shirt up so it kisses the edge of your breasts. He looks up at you with pleading eyes; a look that turns your insides to mush. 
"Can you turn the light on? I need to see you." 
He sounds so desperate, so in need that you waste no time in grabbing your camp light and switching it on, bathing you both in cool white light. 
As he's pulling your top up, you assist and pull it over your head, flinging it to a corner. 
"You are really beautiful." He says, drinking you in with his eyes, as a calloused hand strokes between the valley of your breasts. You slide under his confident touches, getting more anxious by the minute. 
"Can I taste you?" 
You nod, and he unbuttons your skirt, pulling your panties down with a roughness that makes you flinch. You're entirely exposed. 
"I've wanted this, wanted you, for a long time." 
You wriggle underneath him, and reply. "Didn't you get me like this last night?" 
"This," he says, gesturing to your revealed flesh, "this is different." 
You don't quite get it and want him to explain further, but his lips are on your nipples and all that comes out of you is a heady moan. A firm knee pushes your thighs apart and you bend to his will, allowing him to kiss down, and down, leaving hot pressured mouth trails to your stomach. 
When his lips meet the tops of your thighs you cry out his name. 
He understands, slipping his tongue between your folds and licking at your clit with pointed precision. 
"Oh fuck!" 
A chuckle emanates from his throat as he doubles his efforts, flicking and suckling at you in earnest. Thick fingers tease your entrance and one slides into your glistening opening, pumping slowly. 
It shocks through your body, setting loose tendrils of pleasure so profound it's almost a religious experience. He prods another finger at you, sliding it next to the first and it burns, making you hiss. 
Eddie mumbles platitudes into your pussy, telling you how good a job you're doing, how proud he is, how you're a good girl. His good girl. 
The tension is unbelievable, clenching every muscle as your breath comes in short pants.
"That's it sweetheart, sing for me." 
The fingers curl, stroking something incessantly inside you that rips a sultry groan from deep within your chest cavity, and without further warning your orgasm washes through. It collects and expands, a force of nature that flies out and collides like stars in the universe.
Your back falls to the air mattress, and that's the only signal you have that it ever left. You feel soaked in your own juices, thighs uncomfortably wet. 
Eddie hovers over your face. You're not quite sure when he got there. 
"That OK sweetheart?" 
You don't reply, you can't. Your response can only be carnal, feeding into the biting, gnawing need that still refuses to lessen its grip on your core. Bringing shaking hands upward, you wind them into his hair and pull his face forcefully towards yours, tongue slipping in to taste your slick in his mouth, groaning at the tangy sweet flavour. 
He collapses against you, full weight of his lithe body pressed into yours, but it's not enough. Pulling away and leaving less than an inch of space you voice your frustration. 
"Eddie, please, I- I want you. I want you inside me, please." 
Eddie shakes his head for a second, then deep brown eyes seek yours for any doubt, and come up empty. 
"Are you sure sweetheart?" 
The nod you reciprocate with is painfully fast, hurting the muscles of your neck. He looks uncertain, but discards his clothes, kneeling in front of you in his boxer shorts. 
"I need you to be sure. I can't give it back." 
You let your legs fall further apart, giving him the view of you open and ready for him. 
"Please." 
Underwear has never been discarded quicker. He has his cock in his hand, sliding on a condom from his crumpled jeans at record speed. A second later and he's towering over you, nose brushing yours and dick lined up to your sopping entrance. 
His tip breaches you, so much thicker than his fingers, and you wince. You can tell he's trying to be careful, pushing into you slowly, watching for any signs you want to stop. 
You're so full, and he just keeps going. A moment later and you let out a little startled cry as a sharp pain shoots from deep inside. 
"You OK sweetheart?" He stops his movements, staring at your face with a worried expression. 
"I'm fine, just, go all the way" you manage through gritted teeth. 
He slips the last of it deep, deep inside as you yelp at the suddenness. Then, he's still, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers with his over your head, his other arm holding him perfectly motionless above you. 
"That's it, you're OK, so fuckin' tight, fuck," he says to you, kissing your cheek. It burns, the feel of him, but a fullness is beginning to overtake that ache. 
"You know, I thought you were afraid of me in high school." He half laughs, kissing the tip of your nose. It's such a sweet gesture from the so-called frightening man that you giggle a little too. 
"I was," you admit, staring into his deep eyes.
"Then, we come here and you look like you're gonna eat me alive. Then, you're all innocent, and now… fuck, I can't keep up." 
You appreciate what he's doing, talking to you, distracting you from the pain. It helps; it's settled into a dull throb and your need from him is outranking it. 
"Eddie, you can move." 
With a peck to your lips he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, setting a slow and steady pace. 
This is so much better than his hands, or his tongue. On every thrust he's massaging at something that makes you moan, again and again. 
"You're doing real good sweetheart, my good fuckin' girl." 
All of a sudden you feel it, all of it. His lean weight comforting over you, the squeeze of his fingers in yours, the throb of his member inside you, his words. It's all too much. Your eyes gloss over and a tear works its way down your temple. 
"Oh shit, you want me to-" He starts as he slows down a little. 
"Don't you fucking dare, please, please, I-I need-" 
He grins at you; that self satisfied look that turns your legs to jelly. 
"What do you need, sweetheart? Whatever you want, I'll give it to you." 
"Harder Eddie, oh God!" 
He snaps his hips into you with much more force; once, twice, three times and you scream his name, pussy clenching him hard, every muscle tense. As everything unravels you go limp, whimpering at the pulse that you can feel pounding in your core. 
When your eyes finally decide to open, he's leaving kisses as light as a butterfly's wings on your cheek. 
"Woah," is all you can say, between breathless giggles. Tears are falling but you don't care enough to wipe them away. 
Eddie unlatches his hand from yours and does it himself. 
"That was so hot. You need to do that again," he whispers, beginning to grind into you slowly.
"I nearly died Eddie, it might finish me off!" 
He laughs back, but doesn't quit; hips still driving into you leisurely. 
"What's life without a little risk?" 
You stare up at him, biting your lip, a question on the tip of your tongue that you're too nervous to ask. 
"What is it?" He asks, brow furrowed, as if you were about to ask him to stop. 
"Can I… wait, don't worry." 
He does stop then, to put his hand to your face and stroke you with his thumb.
"Hey hey hey, come on, what baby?" 
You whisper it quietly, voice small and second guessing. 
"Can I try, erm, being on top?" 
You're surprised that Eddie's face didn't split in half from the sheer wideness of his grin. 
"Holy shit, yes, please." 
He winds his arms underneath your frame and flips you so fast your vision blurs, until he's underneath you. You sit up, his cock still buried within, and you gasp at the new angle. 
"Eddie, Jesus Christ!" 
Palms splayed on his chest, you control your breathing a little. This angle is devastating, pressing harshly against that place inside that has you throbbing around him. 
Eddie chuckles darkly as his hands slide over the flesh of your thighs, rubbing back and forth, until they work their way to your hips and pull you up ever so slightly, only to drop you back down again. 
"Just like that sweetheart, 'Kay?" 
He tilts his head to one side, that mocking tone fuelling the embers of your desire. Rising up on shaky knees you pull off him and slide back down, trying to find some semblance of rhythm. Your clit grazes his pubic hair on one pass and you nearly lose it completely, the feeling sending a bolt of pure pleasure up your spine. 
"Oh my God!" 
"Yeah? That good?" 
You hum and nod, words escaping you, now rolling your hips on each bounce to get that sensation over and over. 
Eddie's talking now, watching how much you writhe and whine at his words. 
"That's it sweetheart. Wanting to- oh fuck- ride me, on your first time. Oh yes, fuck, just like that- dirty, my dirty fuckin' girl." 
"Eddie, oh God, can you, fuck, please-" 
"What is it sweetheart? Anything, you can have anything." 
His words embolden you, and before you can hesitate your hands are gripping one of his and leading it to your throat. You're not sure why, but you know deep in your core that you need it. 
Eddie looks shocked by your moments but quickly recovers, fingers slotting around your throat, squeezing lightly at the sides. 
Speeding up, feeling the pressure of his hand on your windpipe, you throw your body into each movement. 
"Fuck Eddie, harder!" 
He squeezes and you let go of everything, breath leaving you. All composure, all thought. It's just you and Eddie, and his hand, and his cock. Screaming aloud, you fold almost double, collapsing into him with a shocked, delicate whimper. 
His fingers relinquish their firm grip, coming to rest on the back of your head in a comforting, tender hold. 
"I was right, you are a freak." 
Laughing aloud, you have just enough bones left in your neck to lift it ever so slightly. He looks surprised, sure, and really aroused, judging by his hooded gaze. 
"Are you not… done?" You ask, as you feel his impossibly hard length still throbbing inside you. 
"What can I say, I've got stamina." 
That smug face is back, a flash of canines and confidence. You'd roll your eyes if it wasn't so sexy. 
No time for a witty comeback though, as he holds you close to him and thrusts upwards with abandon. Colours swirl in your vision as you try to stay attached to reality, focusing on the feel of his skin, the pounding of his rhythm, and the light in his eyes. 
"Fuck I'm close, I'm so fuckin' close. You're, oh shit, so- oh God, can't believe you're letting me do this." 
Slack jawed and practically dribbling, you let him use you to chase his own release, trying to weakly meet his thrusts. A pulse deep inside is brought to your attention, and it's not yours. Looking at his face, you watch it awash with ecstasy as he holds you tightly and throbs his climax out. 
His muscles melt, holding you still but so loosely that the lack of pressure surprises you, as if you were only aware of how tight his grip had been at this very moment. 
The only sounds are the nightlife of insects around the tent, and panting, heaving breaths. Sliding off of him in an organic gesture, you curl up into his arms, finally feeling sated and at ease. 
Lips are pressed into the top of your head, kissing you over your hair. No words are spoken; none need to be. For a shining moment, this is all you need. To be held, and cared for. 
Minutes go by, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. Before you drift off, Eddie breaks the spell cast over both of you. 
"Was that OK princess?" 
"That was incredible Eddie." 
He kisses the top of your head again, then seems to remember himself. 
"Fuck sweetheart, just, stay right there." 
Clambering to his feet he pulls the condom off, tying it in a knot and discarding it into a corner to be thought of later. He's back then, spreading your legs. 
'Eddie, you can't just-" 
"I'm just looking after you sweetheart. You got some tissues or something?"
Furrowing your brows, you point to your wash bag near the foot of the sleeping bag. He paws through it wordlessly, and brings out some tissues and wet wipes. 
"Sweetheart I'm so sorry." 
"What's wrong?" You ask, panic riding your words. 
"I've made you bleed." Eddie looks crushed, so upset at your prior pain, anguish etched into his face. 
"It's OK Eddie, it's normal." 
"You should have said. I'm so sorry." 
You laugh a little, touched by his concern. 
"I didn't know! It's alright, it doesn't hurt now." 
Placated slightly by your answer, he cleans you both up as well as he can, before slipping into the sleeping bag with you. 
A thousand questions perch on the edge of your tongue, but it's so warm, so cosy and right, that your body denies all words for a moment. 
When you feel capable of speech you look up at him. 
"Stamina, huh?" 
He flushes, looking down at your smiling face. 
"I may have tactically jerked off beforehand."
"When??" You giggle, fingers flirting over his exposed chest. 
"When I went to get my guitar." 
"Eddie, how did you know that-" 
"OK, OK!" He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles before hiding behind it, "I didn't know, not for sure. You just looked so good in that little two piece, I couldn't hold it in." 
"Perv," you respond, but your eyes are soft. 
"Yep." 
Giggling, you slip into a calm, contented sleep in his arms.
********************
You wake up a little later than intended, no doubt exhausted from last night. The tent feels empty. Upon realising that Eddie's missing a dread settles in your stomach. Bile rises as you sling some clothes on. Maybe he's had his way with you and that's it.
Exiting the tent, you see he's just by the fire, trying to get it going again, a cigarette dangling from his pouting lips. 
"Oh would you just- come on!" He says as he angrily flicks his lighter, trying to get the wood to catch. 
You smile, relief washing over you, and walk over to help. 
"I'm begging, come on- oh, sweetheart," he looks a little sheepish as he speaks to you, mumbling around his cigarette. "I was gonna make you coffee and bring it to you but the damn fire won't start." 
You giggle, and rearrange the little pile, adding a few twists of paper to the base, and hold your hand out to him. He looks at you blankly for a second, then comes to his senses, placing the lighter in your palm. 
With one stroke the papers alight, and starting to catch the rest of the twigs. The couple of logs won't take long to catch. 
"Witchcraft." 
"Nope, just girl scouts." 
"You can go back in the tent if you want, I'll make you a drink." 
"Eddie?" 
"Huh?" He turns to you, pot of water in his hand. 
"Good morning." You smile shyly at him. He grins, placing the pot on the ground and stubbing out his cigarette. Strong arms slot their way around your waist and you fling your arms around his neck, grinning stupidly at each other. 
"Good morning. Good night?" It's framed as a question, and you know what he's getting at. 
"Great night." 
Smiling wider, he presses a kiss to your forehead. Puckering your lips to ask for a proper kiss, you hear a very loud cough. 
"Good morning love birds." Robin wiggles her eyebrows at you both. You move to break away from Eddie, but he steals a kiss anyway, and pulls you close to his side, arm firmly around you. 
"Is Steve alive?" He asks, looking at Robin. 
"Well, he got up in the night to throw up, just glad he didn't do it in the tent. He's dead to the world right now. He's been singing in his sleep you know. Nearly suffocated him with a pillow." 
You both laugh at that, and then hear a loud groan from the tent. 
Eddie glances at you with mischief and shouts out towards Steve's tent.
"Harrington! Wanna sing for us, big guy?" 
"Urgh." Is the only reply. Robin rolls her eyes and busies herself with the fire. 
After a while, the coffees are ready; you all attempt to rouse Steve but he's gone back to sleep, groaning whenever you call out to him. 
Then, it's just the sad business of taking down your tent. There's a special kind of melancholy reserved for such an occasion; pretty soon there's no sign at all that it was ever there. Afraid that your memories, your feelings, about last night would fade too, you walk over to Eddie who is perched on a stump fitting the last of his things in a bag. 
"Eddie?" 
"Yeah sweetheart?" He asks, still fumbling with his bag. 
Do you still like me? Do you want to see me after this? Was this all a dream?
"Can I get a ride back with you? Steve and Robin are gonna be a while." 
You gesture over to where Steve had finally emerged, whining and packing his stuff, tent still upright. 
"Sure, anything you need." He flashes a tight lipped smile and reaches to grasp your hand briefly. 
The ride back to town with him is chatty, even if it's only surface level stuff. Your rendition of White Rabbit had him fumbling around the glove compartment and pulling out a few older classic rock tapes that you happily listened to; music was a big part of your life, at least you both had that in common. His eyes light up whenever you talk about a band or song that he likes too, gesturing so emphatically with his hand you have to remind him to look at the road. 
Pretty soon you're pulling up to a crossroads, except Eddie pulls over instead. 
"What's wrong?" 
He huffs, smiling at you sadly. 
"If I keep driving forward I've got to say goodbye to you, take you home," he admits. Your heart flutters at the admission. 
"Where do you live, Eddie?" He looks confused, but points to the left turning. 
"Eddie, turn left." 
"Really?" 
"Really. I was supposed to stay at Robin's tonight anyway." 
His grin is downright manic as he pulls back on the road, making short work of the drive to his trailer. 
He bundles you out of the van and opens the trailer door, both of your bags heaved over one of his shoulders. 
The sight of an older gentleman startles you as he potters around the kitchen area. 
"Hey! This is Wayne, my Uncle. Wayne, this is my girlfriend." 
Your eyes widen as he gives your name to his uncle and you shake hands with him, the roughest hand you think you've ever touched, but the softest grip. 
"Pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm heading out today, so I'll see you two later I'm guessing." 
He waves and smiles fondly at the pair of you, and leaves. 
"Sorry, thought he would've left already." He explains, pulling you both to the back of the trailer and into what you assume is his room. 
Allowing yourself to be led, still feeling shell shocked, you perch on the edge of his bed as he dumps the bags on the floor. 
Eddie's talking, saying how he wishes he tidied before he left, how the trailer's not much but it's home, and his uncle…
"Eddie, wait." 
He stops mid flow to look at you. 
"Girlfriend?" 
"Well yeah? I mean, if you want to. I didn't ask, did I?" He flushes pink, hand reaching up to nibble at his thumb. 
"I mean, you don't know me, really." You shrink, almost folding in on yourself. 
"Hey," he sits down next to you, stroking your jaw with his finger, "I know enough. And I let you touch my guitar. We're practically married now." 
Lips press softly to yours, a delicate touch that has all tension flying from your body in a rush. 
"Eddie…" You whisper, giving him a butterfly kiss with the tip of your nose. 
"Hmm?" 
"You smell really bad." 
He laughs and grabs you around the waist, pulling you down sharply to lay on the bed. 
"So do you." 
"A point well made." A response, but you don't move, snuggling deeper into his neck. 
"So, I've got an idea. Let's have showers, get into some comfy stuff, and cuddle. Probably got a movie or two we can watch?" 
The normalcy of the situation is surprising, but most welcome. 
Smiling wickedly, you nip at his neck and whisper in his ear. 
"One condition: we shower together." 
He groans loudly, hands stroking at any skin he can reach. 
"Fuuuck, sweetheart, I've created a monster." 
You laugh, and hold him tightly. Eddie Munson isn't so scary, after all.
Taglist (just some people I thought might like this, hope you don't mind!)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonfuxks
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zyafics · 1 month
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headspace | drabble
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masterlist
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe hasn't seen you in twenty-four hours, he comes over to your house to check on you.
content (1.0k words) fluff, suggestive tone near the end, rafe trying to be a good boyfriend, math (yuck!) — reader type academic weapon, burnout from studying (me), anxious, cries from being overwhelmed and pushes people away when busy
dedication inspired by this post by @winterrrnight (definitely check out her stuff!! 💘)
zya's notes was this purely self-indulgent? maybe. but it was a good writing break for me before i get back to linear algebra myself.
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"What are you doing here?" You accuse, opening your bedroom door to discover your boyfriend standing behind it.
"I'm here to see you." Rafe says, taking in your appearance. You're wearing a borrowed tee of his, the name of his fraternity plastered in Greek letters, with shorts that's barely seen under the long material. "I've been texting you all day."
"You have?" You ask, your voice softening from the sharp undertone of your accusation. You're just so tired. "My phone's been on DND."
"Why?" He lets out a dry chuckle. He doesn't like the fact that you’ve been ignoring him. "You fuckin' someone?"
That earns him a scowl and Rafe knows he messed up when you pull on the doorknob, closing the limited space that allows him to see and enter your bedroom. "I'm not in the mood, Rafe. How'd you get in?"
He swallows hard. "Your mom let me in."
"She's home?" Your brows furrow together. You've lost track of time. You've been so busy that you didn't even hear your parents coming back from work. "Shit, what time is it?"
You abandon your post at the entryway and search for your phone in the messy covers of your bed. When you check the time, your heart drops. It's nearing midnight.
Rafe quietly slips into your room with his hands in his pockets and searches the place. He admits the first signs he looked for was the presence of another man. That you, in the twenty-four hours since he last saw you, have decided that he wasn't enough and that you found someone else. Instead, what he uncovers is your textbooks sprawled all over the floor, crinkled up sheets of papers surrounding your trashcan and your laptop and tablet propped on your desk with mathematical symbols and equations on the screen.
You weren't out finding his replacement. You were studying.
Your heart is racing, trying to figure out what to do next. You didn't even realize Rafe slipped to your side till his hand catches your wrist and pulls your attention away from your darkened phone screen.
"Hey." Rafe whispers, noticing the panic on your features. "Have you been studying all day? When was the last time you ate?"
Momentarily drawn away from your thoughts, you search your brain for an answer only to recall a distant memory of some yogurt and granola. 
"I don't know." You admit. Your chest tightening at the look of concern that flashes across his face. "I can't think about that right now."
"You can't think about food?" He repeats, incredulous. "You're the one who's always trying to get me to try new places."
He was trying to make you laugh, relax, but all it does is set your lips into a flat line. He really is not living up to the role of good boyfriend right now.
"I have a huge exam coming up in two days and I still don't understand a single concept. And it's midnight." You explain, your breathing growing more rapidly as the realization dawns on you. "I shouldn't have gone out with you yesterday, I knew that, but I went when I should’ve stayed in—"
"Hey, hey." He shushes you, his hands sliding up to your shoulders. He knows you're about to descend into a spiral right now. He can't let it happen. "Look at me."
You do.
"It's going to be okay. You're a smart girl, you're going to figure it out."
You shake your head, not believing him, to the point that you're pushing away from his touch, reeling back as if you don't deserve his comfort. "No, Rafe, it's not. It's worth 20% of my grade and I can't recall a single thing. I've been studying all day and I feel like I'm about to go insane because I don't get it. I have never not gotten something this bad before."
You can't stop the tears from welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. First and foremost, you can't believe you're crying over math right now but the emotions are too strong to ignore—you feel like you're about to combust.
"Baby." Rafe begins softly, taking a step forward and pulling you back in. You try to resist but his grip is too strong and you like being in his embrace. Even if you don't deserve it. "Take a breath. Come on, let's take a break."
"I can't." Your voice cracks, a tear falling down your cheek and wetting his shirt. "I actually think I'm going to fail and it scares me."
Rafe knows you always cared about your academics. Way more than he does. But, it's one of the things he admires about you. That fact that you're so smart, that you manage to fall for a guy like him. He doesn't know of any way to help in that department, but fuck if he isn't going to try.
"Alright, how about this?" Rafe pulls apart, the loss of touch causes you to whimper, but his hand tucks under your chin and lifts your gaze to meet his. "We're going to get somethin' to eat. Any place you want, I don't care how far, and I'll drive."
You open your mouth to counter but he cuts you off. "Then, we're going to come back here and I'll help you study. All night if I have to. We're going to figure this out together, okay?"
The plan sounds appealing but you're still hesitant. "You don't know anything about linear algebra."
"Fuck, baby, you can teach me." He states, causing a small smile to rise on your lips. That makes him proud. "Isn't that the best way to learn? When the student become the teacher?"
"Are you saying you're my teacher?" You tilt your head, teasing him. He loves that you're coming to yourself again.
He lowers himself to your level, stopping next to the shell of your ear. "I'm about to teach you a lesson if you don't get a move on." He murmurs, lightly slapping your ass and releasing you in one-go. You let out a little yelp, jumping back.
He tips his head to your closet. "Get change. We got shit to do."
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1K notes · View notes
wintfleur · 2 months
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hi roro, congrats on your 1k!! you deserve it so much! 💞 if you're still taking requests for ur celebration, can you do prompt 9 🪷 with lando? thank you 🫶
౨ৎ hair dryers and promised mimosas 
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﹕─┈ pairings ( Lando norris x female! reader )
°. — summary ( your clingy boyfriend doesn’t want to leave your side so early in the morning )
°. — details ( g; fluff. w; none. I did not proof read soz. wc; 1.8k )
﹕─┈ prompt ~ sitting between their legs as they dry your hair
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( Ahh tysm lovely! Ur so sweet mwah x i had so much fun writing this ! Tysm for sending in a req !!! I hope you all enjoy it !!! Please don’t be a silent reader )
1k celly masterlist main masterlist f1 masterlist
There weren't a lot of things that Lando would wake up early for on his days off, it was no secret Lando loved his sleep, and he loved sleeping in your shared bed, especially since he missed it so much while he was off racing. But he loved you more, so when he rolled over in bed, wanting to snuggle into your arms he grumpily sat up in confusion when he saw you weren't sleeping next to him. 
The worry that was building up in him disappears when he takes notice of the faint sound of music coming from the bathroom. An annoyed groan leaves his lips as he recollects you telling him yesterday that you were going out for breakfast with a few of your girlfriends, he wanted to spend more time with you in bed. Lando flings the warm blanket off his body and slowly trudges out of the bed and towards the bathroom, his mind coming up with excuses he could use to get you to stay home. 
You were so caught up in doing your skincare and quietly singing along to the music playing from your phone, to notice the cracked bathroom door opening wide. Lando stood in the doorway for a few moments, watching as you rubbed some sunscreen on your face, you looked so peaceful. Already dressed in your outfit of choice, a white fluffy towel on your head as it helped dry your hair quicker. 
A gasp of surprise leaves your lips when you notice your sleepy boyfriend standing in the doorway, from the corner of your eye through the mirror. You quickly turn to face him, placing your hand over your heart at the fright, a surprised laugh leaving your lips “Lan! Don't do that, you scared me.” 
“Consider it revenge for scaring me this morning” your boyfriend sassily replied as he moved towards you. You raise your eyebrows at his sassy mood and turn back around, facing the mirror so you can continue getting ready. You pause the music on your phone, already knowing that you were about to get an earful of your boyfriend's dramatics. “I have no idea what you're talking about darling.” 
“I woke up alone, on my day off! Imagine how I felt waking up cold and alone. You claim to have missed me while I was away, but this just proves you didn't. I thought you loved me” he whined dramatically and tiredly as he rested his forehead on your shoulder blade, his eyes fluttering close and his body begging to go back to sleep. You giggled as you looked through one of your makeup bags “Lando you know i love you, and you also know i had to wake up early this morning.” 
“If you truly loved me you would get in bed and cuddle me back to sleep” Lando pouted as he lifted his head up from your shoulder blade and rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Lando winced dramatically as he watched you curl your eyelashes. 
The two of you made eye contact through the mirror and for a second you wanted to get back in bed with him when you saw how sleepy he looked, but then you remembered the free mimosas you were promised, and you absolutely loved cuddling in bed with lando . . . but you desperately needed some drinks and breakfast with your girlfriends after a long week of stressful work. You moved one of your hands to your waist, setting it on top of his hands and squeezing them softly as you spoke “We can cuddle as soon as i get back, i won't be gone long, promise.” 
Lando let out a sigh, he really wanted you to stay with him, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless, he knew how much you were looking forward to it. Lando places a soft kiss on your shoulder before standing straight and moving his hands to hold your hips instead “When do you have to leave?” 
“In like 10 minutes, I just have to dry my hair and style it and I'm ready to go” you tell him as you lean forward so you would be closer to the mirror, getting a better look at your eyelashes as you put on your mascara. Lando's eyes followed your movement, his eyes dropping to your back, lingering on your arch before quickly looking back up at you before his mind could get carried away. His body was already aching and missing the way you felt pressed up against him, he quickly stutters out a response, wanting to stay close to you until you had to leave “Can i do it ⸺ dry your hair i mean.” 
You pull away the mascara wand from your eye and lock eyes with his sweet and twinkling eyes. Lando always became extra clingy in the morning, not that you complained. You softly smile “Sure darling, plug in the hair dryer while I finish my mascara, would you?” 
Lando grins happily and places a quick kiss to your shoulder before crouching down and opening the cabinet under the sink to look for the dryer. The bright morning light shone through the windows of the bathroom; you had put the curtains back so you could get the natural light. You glanced down at your giddy boyfriend; he looked so pretty in the morning. You looked away and focused on your mascara, knowing that if you stared at him any longer you wouldn't be leaving the house in ten minutes. 
You pulled the white towel off your head, careful not to tug on your hair, you tossed the towel into the laundry basket and looked towards the bathroom door when you heard an unfamiliar sound. 
“Here sit on this” Lando requested sweetly as he pulled in a short and circular stool ottoman into the bathroom for you to sit on. It was made of a soft fabric and decorated your shared room perfectly, it was also a designated place for Lando to set his hats on, too lazy to put them away in the closet. You had just finished putting all of your things away on the counter when he pulled it into the bathroom. 
You smiled and sat down on the stool he had moved close to the counter, the hair dryer cord not too long. Your sweet boyfriend stood behind you, a hair dryer and your brush in his hands, you looked at him through the mirror and watched as a look of confusion came over his face as he looked down at the buttons on the dryer, trying to figure out which one turns it on. You turn to face him, ready to help him but you stop when it turns on, your boyfriend flinching at the surprising sound. 
You look up at him through the window and he lets out an embarrassed chuckle, a big smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at Lando's silliness and sit up straight when he starts drying your hair. Your eyes flutter close at the soothing feeling of the warmth coming from the dryer and the softness and rhythmic feeling of him brushing through your hair. 
You open your eyes when you feel his lips softly kiss your forehead, your eyes catching him leaning up and continuing to dry your hair, a lovesick smile on his lips. You look at him through the mirror, a smile on your lips at the adorable look of concentration that comes across his face as he focuses on your hair, trying to do the same thing he's seen you do countless times before. 
There was something so comforting in the way he always wanted to be around you, he never got tired of your presence like your past partners did. He didn't care what the two of you were doing, as long as you guys were together. After another minute or so, your hair was now dry and had a good amount of volume. Who knew Lando was so good at doing your hair? You didn't know . . . last time he tried to braid your hair it got so tangled, and he felt so bad. 
“Did I do a good job?” Lando whispered as he watched you stand up and lean closer to the mirror to get a better look at your hair, he set the dryer on the counter and bit his lip as he continued to watch you mess with your hair. You smiled and turned around to face him, putting your hands on Lando's waist and pulling him closer to you. “Darling it's perfect.”
“Mmm just like you” you whispered before you leaned up on your tippy toes, your eyes closing as you took his lips into a kiss. Lando's eyes quickly close as he kisses you back, his hands cupping your cheeks softly as your lips move perfectly together. You reluctantly pull away when your alarm on your phone goes off, letting you know it's time to go. 
Lando's hands on your cheeks drop to your waist as you reach back to grab your phone, you turn off your alarm and quickly type out a response to your friend who just pulled up and is waiting for you. You look up from your phone and up at Lando who was already looking at you, a small frown on his lips, he really didn't want you to go. 
“I’ll be back soon darling, we can stay in bed for the rest of the day” you promised sweetly, leaning up to place a quick kiss to his cheek before you turn around to quickly spray some of your favorite perfume on before walking into the bedroom to put on your shoes and grab your bag. Lando watches you rush around the bedroom, the scent of your perfume making him feel dizzy but in a good way. “I’ll hold you to that.” 
“You better!” You playfully shout as you make your way out of the bedroom, you have your bags and your shoes on, all ready to go. Just as you step out of the bedroom you pause; you are missing one more thing. You turn around and Lando lets out a small chuckle as you rush over to him, cupping his face as you give a quick but passionate kiss, a kiss that he would be thinking about the whole time you were gone. You pull away and whisper breathlessly against his wet lips “I love you.” 
“I love you too, have fun” Lando whispered back, giving you a cheeky wink when you turned around to give him a look of feign shock when he smacked your ass as you walked away. You chuckle and roll your eyes, leaving the shared apartment, with a new pep in your step. Now even more excited to come back home to your sweet boyfriend. 
Lando smiles as he hears your laughter fade and he soon hears the door open, close and lock. He was now home alone. Lando let out a tired sigh and moved to lay in the messy bed, laying on your side of the bed and breathing in your scent as he laid his head on your pillow. He let out a tired sigh and let himself relax in the warm bed, drifting off into a sleep filled with dreams of you. 
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( ending is kinda rushed :( I haven’t had much time to write so I was quick to finish it !!! Still hope you guys loved it though !!! The rest of my fics for my 1k celly should be out soon )
°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @toasttt11 @c-losur3 @ophcelia @lovings4turn )
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wp-blaze · 2 days
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The Pure, Unadulterated Gospel
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I want to get back to the basics, and be very plain, because I have been told that my articles are too long. This article is going to be a “remake” of “The solution to evil, The Good News”, and this time I want to give without any digression the pure message of the Gospel […]
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makoodles · 4 months
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ミ stay for something
🍓 pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x fem reader
🍓 tags: nsfw, ex-boyfriend!gaz, unprotected vaginal sex, lack of communication, jealousy, 'just the tip' trope, sex with feelings
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
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You hate wasting a Friday night on a first date, but you had genuinely high hopes for this one. You had made such an effort, too; pretty sparkly eyeshadow, strawberry-flavoured lipgloss, a new little black dress.
You look good. You feel good. 
It’s just a shame that the guy is a bit of a moron. 
He talks about himself a lot over dinner. Like, so much. You sit and smile and pretend to listen, your gaze wandering, and wonder if he’s going to ask any questions about you. He does (eventually), but they’re short and perfunctory and he seems to just take your answers and use them as a springboard into his next topic of discussion.
It’s a little tedious, but hey. First dates usually are. You weather it, your polite smile turning a little stiff as you sip your wine. Truthfully, you have ulterior motives here.
You’re not proud of it, but you don’t think you can handle the dry spell you’re going through anymore. You crave touch, affection, some kind of connection. You’re okay with being single, but god you’re so hungry for intimacy that it’s led to you agreeing to a date with a guy that you honestly wouldn’t have normally been into just for the chance of getting some action.
Ben is a nice enough guy, and he’s certainly good looking; neatly groomed hair, straight white teeth, a nice physique. He’s in good shape, though you can’t help but subconsciously compare him to— 
No, you think sternly to yourself, Don’t do that.
When he leans into you at the end of the date and asks in a low, sultry voice if you want to continue the night with him, you agree a little breathlessly. God, it’s been a long time since you were touched.
Your place is closer, and you can’t help but feel a little illicit thrill as you lead Ben back. You never usually bring guys back to yours, especially not on the first date, but you’ll be the first to admit that you’re needy tonight. 
The weather is getting colder as winter creeps its icy fingers through the air, but you’re wrapped tight in your coat and kept nice and warm as Ben wraps an arm around your waist, kissing heatedly at your neck as you try to open your door.
You giggle, the wine from dinner making you all loose and happy and eager. You tilt your head to give him more of your throat, and he eagerly takes the opportunity to introduce teeth and tongue as he kisses the line of your neck. You fumble with the key, clumsy as your body heats up.
When you finally manage to turn the key and get the stupid door open, Ben grabs you by the hips and spins you around so that he can pull you into a proper kiss. The guy might have been a dull conversationalist, but you’re delighted to find that he’s a good kisser.
The two of you stumble through the door, your arms locked around his neck as he holds you by the waist. It’s a little embarrassing how eager you are for a guy that you really aren’t even all that into, but you guess that’s just where desperation has gotten you.
“Shit,” Ben hisses when you nip at his lip. “Fuck, you’re so hot. C’mere, take this off.”
He starts tugging at your coat, and you pull back just enough to shrug it off, letting it drop to the floor. He lets out a throaty sound of appreciation, before grabbing at your waist again and leaning in to trail another set of hot kisses along your neck and shoulder. 
You tilt your head back, thunking lightly against the wall, and your eyelids flutter at the nipping kisses along your sensitive skin. 
“Oh, god…” You breathe, blinking your eyes open again.
But then… you pause. For the first time, you notice that the lights in your entryway are on. Why are they on? You hadn’t turned them on when you came in, and you know that they weren’t on when you had left. 
Ben is still groping eagerly at your hips, one hand reaching around to squeeze at your ass, but now you’re distracted, on alert. Your eyes dart around, and fall on a pair of Adidas Superstars set neatly by the front door, and a big puffer coat that’s been hung up on the hook in the hall.
Oh no. No fucking way.
As if to confirm the path your thoughts had just taken, your eyes catch on a figure in the doorway to the living room, leaning casually against the doorframe. Just watching.
A scream catches in your throat, and you grab Ben by the shoulders in an attempt to stop him. He doesn’t seem to understand, because he just keeps squeezing at your ass, pulling your hips closer so that he can slot between your legs and grind against you.
The brief spark of arousal that shoots through you when he grinds his hard-on into the seam of your cunt through your underwear is significantly dampened by the awareness that someone is already in your home, watching you, and you already know who it is.
“Hey, baby,” Kyle fucking Garrick says, lifting a mug patterned with little cartoon cats to his mouth. “Had a nice night out?”
“Jesus Christ–” You hiss, shoving at Ben’s chest. This time, the push isn’t needed, because Ben has rocketed up straight at the sound of another man’s voice in your house calling you ‘baby’.
“What the–” Ben starts to say, his brow furrowing into a bewildered frown when he catches sight of Gaz standing in the doorway watching you.
“Kyle, what are you doing here?” You snap, mortified. You grab at the bottom of your short little dress, pulling roughly at it to try and make sure you’re not flashing anyone.
Gaz watches you, amusement shining in his dark eyes. He’s not even trying to hide the way his gaze is drawn to your legs, lingering where your dress has ridden up your thighs. He sips his tea, a poor attempt at concealing his smirk.
“Home from deployment earlier than expected, love.” He says, calm and casual as if he hasn’t just broken into your goddamn house to destroy any hope you had of getting railed that night. “No time to find accommodation. You don’t mind, eh?”
Ben’s head is swinging between the two of you, his expression blank as he tries to work out just what exactly is happening. He’s straightened up entirely, the presence of Gaz obviously putting him on edge. You can’t blame him for his confusion; Gaz is currently looking at you like he wants to fucking eat you alive, and you’re beginning to get hot and flustered under his stare.
“Are you–” Ben starts, his head still on a swivel as though he can’t decide who to address. “I’m sorry, who is this?”
Gaz doesn’t even bother to reply at once. He sips at his tea, and tilts his head as he lets his eyes wander over Ben lazily. It doesn’t seem like he’s all too impressed by what he sees, though he’s smirking as though he’s amused.
“Sergeant Kyle Garrick.” He says at last, with a nod.
You huff. You know what he’s doing – he never introduces himself by his rank unless he’s trying to make a point.
Ben goes stiff. He’s still pressed against you, and you can feel every ounce of tension down the line of your body. It seems like he’s just now clocking Gaz as a proper threat, and you take a breath as you realise that he’s about to split and leave you here.
And sure enough–
“I– Listen, I don’t know what’s.. what’s going on here, but I don’t want any trouble.” Ben says, finally pushing himself away from you. He’s holding his hands up by his shoulders as though he’s being held at gunpoint, and you roll your eyes impatiently at his dramatics.
“No trouble, mate.” Gaz says, his voice still cheerfully amiable. “Door’s behind you.”
“Gaz–” You hiss, incensed, but it’s pointless. 
Ben is already scrambling to open the door, heedless of the way you grasp onto his coat in protest. You sigh heavily as he tumbles out into the cold night, and the door slams shut behind him so loud it makes your head hurt.
You stand alone in your entryway, shivering a little in your tiny black dress and heels from the icy breeze that was let in from Ben’s escape. Your jaw is clenched tight, and you take a deep, deep breath as you turn to face your ex-boyfriend.
Gaz is still watching you, his deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath his long dark lashes. You try hard to ignore his expression, which is unmistakably hungry.
“You look good, baby.” He says, staring pointedly at the way your breasts are all pushed up in your tight dress. 
“Don’t call me that.” You grumble, teaching down to unbuckle your delicate heels. You cast them aside and kick them over so they’re laying beside Gaz’s runners.
Gaz just snickers, turning to follow after you when you march your way to the kitchen. Irritation is burning hot in your veins, your lips pursed as you struggle to bite your tongue. It’s so fucking typical that the exact night you try to have some cheap, meaningless sex with some stranger, Gaz has decided to land right into your home. It’s like he has a fucking radar for when you’re about to get laid.
“You could have gotten a hotel.” You snap over your shoulder as you make your way to the kettle. It’s already hot, but you flick the switch again anyway.
“Nah. They’re all booked out. Busy season, you know.”
God, he’s so full of shit. You both know he never even considered staying anywhere other than with you, just like the last few times.
Still, you persevere.
“You could have stayed with one of the guys.” You say, turning around and folding your arms over your chest.
Gaz glances down, and you realise that you’ve inadvertently pushed your breasts together and up. You hastily drop your arms again, and settle instead for planting your hands on your hips.
“Could have,” He admits, leaning against your kitchen table in a way that’s infuriatingly casual. “But they never offered.”
“Neither did I–!”
Gaz doesn’t even seem to hear you. He just steps towards you, reaching to grab an empty mug from the cupboard above your head. The movement brings him so close to you, close enough that your next inhale is scented with his fresh-sweet cologne, the one you always loved, and you find your eyelids fluttering as your muscles relax without your permission. He smells so familiar, so comforting. You hate it.
“Go get changed,” He murmurs, keeping his voice low like he knows the moment is delicate. “We’ll watch a movie.”
You’d love to get fired up, to shove him or curse at him, but it’s all you can do to find the strength to step away from him instead of melting into him. You’re pretty sure he deserves an ass-kicking for this stunt of this, but you decide to pick your battles. Or at least, to postpone them.
You waver another moment, debating over whether you should try to get the last say, but Gaz has already turned away to continue making the cup of tea that you had started. Recognising that the moment has passed, you huff a sigh and march out of the kitchen, making your way to your bedroom.
It takes quite a bit of wiggling to get out your dress – it might look good, but there’s an inordinate sense of relief when you finally tug it over your head and feel as though you can breathe unimpeded again. You unclip your bra and toss it aside, rolling your shoulders and sighing as your breasts are freed. 
Once you're dressed again in a worn-out massive t-shirt that drowns your body and some loose sweatpants, looking decidedly unsexy, you pad to your bathroom and start washing your makeup off. Now that you’re alone, that disappointment and frustration is settling in properly. Ben might have been boring, but if his kissing was anything to judge by, you might actually have had a perfectly enjoyable night with him.
Bare-faced and dressed for lounging in bed, you trudge back downstairs to your ex-boyfriend. It’s far from the way you wanted to end your night, but you’ve resigned yourself to your fate. You can hear the muffled sounds from the television as you make your way downstairs, and you redirect yourself towards your small sitting room.
Gaz is sat sprawled on the couch, his legs spread wide as he makes himself comfortable in your home. Something twists in your stomach at how comfy he looks, as though he belongs there. He looks around when you walk in, though your footsteps are quiet and muffled by your fluffy socks.
You look far from sexy right now in your ugly old loungewear and bare face, but Gaz brightens up at the sight of you.
“There she is.” He crows, though there’s something soft in his gaze that you can hardly face. “C’mon, love. Want to pick what we’re watching?”
You just look at him tiredly. He’s as handsome as ever; the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. He must have come straight here once he’d gotten back from deployment because his eyes are dark and exhausted and stubble is a little more overgrown than usual. You hate that he’s able to come into your space like this so easily – like he’s never left.
“Gaz–” You start to say, but you’re cut off when he reaches for your hand.
He tugs you towards him, and you put a knee hastily up on the couch to prevent yourself from falling flat into his lap.
“Shhh, c’mon. Just sit with me.” He murmurs, looking up at you with those damn pretty eyes.
You waver, but then you turn your head to the side and catch sight of the second cup of tea sitting on the coffee table. Gaz has made it just how you like it, and in your favourite mug too. You crumble almost instantly. 
“Stick to your side of the couch.” You grumble, before dropping yourself down heavily onto the sofa next to him.
Gaz hums, and you can already tell that he has no intention of following that order. His arm is already sprawled over the back of the couch; it’s not touching you, but you have no doubt that he’ll try to before the end of the night.
He sticks on some stupid movie on Netflix. You don’t pay attention. It’s a rom-com, which is typical. He always pretends he chooses the sappy romantic films for your benefit, but you’re not fooled. You see the way he watches them with avid interest, the way his toes curl in his socks when the big love confession scene comes on screen. It’s always been something that you’re impossibly fond of.
The two of you are silent for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. Part of you wishes that it was awkward – it would be easier, you think. But he makes it so simple, sitting with him like this as the cheesy film plays in the background. You’re still a little tipsy from the drinks you’d had at dinner, and you melt into the couch beside him a little quicker than you think you would have otherwise.
“You ruined my night, you know.” You say at last, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.
To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. You glance away hastily again, not wanting to make eye contact.
“Nah,” He says, and you feel his arm dip down a little. He’s cupping your shoulders now, and you should probably move away, but you don’t. “If anything, I saved you from having a long, disappointing night with some tosser you agreed to pity-date. He didn’t exactly look like your type, darling.”
“He was a perfectly nice guy.” You bite out, crossing your arms defensively over your belly in your big t-shirt.
“Nice guys don’t end the first date by groping your ass and humping you up against your wall in your own house.” He says, and if you’re not mistaken you’d say he sounds a little bitter.
You cast a sideways glance at him. He’s sitting up, watching you closely and leaning just slightly towards you. He’s so intense about the way he’s looking at you, his arm dipping low so that he’s holding you properly.
“Stop it.” You say. It hardly even sounds like a proper protest. You’re so tired, still a little floaty from the wine you’d had at dinner, and desperately disappointed by the lack of sexual satisfaction you had been hoping for.
There’s a pause, and then Gaz gives a small shrug. He pulls his arm back to give you space, but he still has that stupid smirk on his face. You can’t even be angry about the cockiness of his expression when his eyes are that soft though.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs. “I’m not being fair, am I?”
“No,” You say petulantly. “You’re not.”
He huffs a noise that’s almost a laugh, only he manages to stifle it so that it comes out as a cough instead. 
“Mm. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin your big date night, especially when you got done up so pretty for it,” He murmurs, his voice low and sweet as honey trickling down your spine. “Let me make up for it. Come on, get over here.”
You hesitate, but Gaz isn’t really giving you an option. He begins to shift, one of his strong muscled arms looping around your waist as he pulls you into him. It takes you a long moment to realise what it is that he’s trying to do. He lays back on the couch and pulls you with him, encouraging you to pull your legs up onto the sofa so that the two of you are laying on your sides, with Gaz spooned up against your back. 
It’s definitely a bad idea to cuddle with him on the couch like this. You’re trying to set boundaries, to make it clear that you’re just friends (if you can even call it that) after your breakup. And yet… you don’t offer any sort of protest at all.
“Relax,” Gaz sighs from behind you, and you feel his nose nuzzle against the back of your neck. “You love cuddling.”
You roll your eyes, turning your head slightly so he can see the unimpressed expression on your face. 
“This isn’t enough to make up for being such a dick.” You grumble. Despite your griping, you don’t actually make any attempt to get out of his arms.
He was right, after all. You do love cuddling. It was your favourite thing to do when you were together. 
But you’re not together anymore, and it’s hard to ignore the gnawing guilt that you’re letting this grow into something that should be avoided instead of nipping it in the bud. You and Gaz had broken up months ago, and it was a perfectly amicable split. You can’t even say that he was at fault for any of it; the strain of the long distance part of your relationship while he was on deployment just grew too much for you, the space his absence left filling with brambled loneliness that pricked incessantly at you. You had known what you were getting into with this relationship with him, and yet when it came down to it you got too greedy, wanting more of him than he was able to give. 
Tonight was a moment of weakness for you, and though your hopes for sex may have been thwarted, you can’t turn down the soft familiar intimacy of Gaz’s strong body cradling you close against him.
Maybe it’s the wine you had at dinner, but you find your muscles relaxing a little as one of Gaz’s arms loops around your waist, his big hand coming to rest across your belly.
“Mm. I’m being selfish, love.” He murmurs, and you fight a shiver as his warm breath ghosts over the delicate shell of your ear. “This is more for me than for you.”
You’re not altogether sure that’s true. It’s certainly doing an awful lot for you right now. Gaz is in just a t-shirt, the muscles of his biceps bunching up under his bare skin as he tries to subtly nudge you closer to him. 
You’ve missed being all wrapped up in the warm embrace of him; he cuddles with his whole body, the front of his thighs all pressed against the back of yours, his strong chest moulding to your back as his face nuzzles against the back of your neck. You always feel so safe when he holds you like this, like he’s blocking out the rest of the world for you. You can only guess he feels the same – he holds you that much tighter every time he gets back home from his missions.
You grumble quietly, but soon settle down. The repetitive stroking motion of his thumb over your hip is more soothing than it should be. You take deep breaths, trying to be subtle about it, because all you can smell is Gaz and his citrusy sweet aftershave and you just want to drown in it.
“You can’t keep doing this.” You mumble, though all the fight has gone out of you. “It’s not… helpful.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then Gaz shifts behind you. His arm tightens around your waist almost imperceptibly, as though he thinks you’re going to push him away. But you’re being selfish now too, comfortably wrapped up against his chest.
“We said we’d stay friends,” He says at last, and he’s so close that you can feel his lips move against the back of your neck as he speaks. “Nothin’ wrong with some platonic cuddling. You should see how close me an’ Soap have had to cuddle to conserve heat when we’re out on the field.”
You huff a small laugh, which is obviously what he had been hoping for. Platonic cuddling. This certainly doesn’t feel platonic, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away. You’ve been craving this kind of closeness for months now, so you just let yourself reluctantly enjoy it. It would have been so much easier if you were able to enjoy it with Ben, with someone who meant nothing to you and wouldn’t have brought with him such a complicated web of feelings and history, but there’s a real sense of comfort in the familiarity of Gaz’s presence.
The film Gaz had chosen to stick on is a stupid one. It’s half action, half love story, with a strong rugged hero and a too-beautiful love-interest whose main role seems to be throwing out quips for comedic relief. You’ve seen a hundred versions of this plot play out in other films, though Gaz is predictably glued to the screen. He’s always loved these stupid films.
You’re comfortable enough that you fall into a light doze, uninterested in the television as you relish the heat from Gaz’s chest. He’s like a fucking human radiator, so hot that you can feel a thin dew of sweat begin to break out along your spine. It chases away the chill of the night and makes you so sleepy.
You’re almost asleep when movement from behind you jolts you back to wakefulness. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined it. Then Gaz moves again, and this time it’s unmistakable.
Gaz is hard, the thick ridge of him impossible to miss as he presses against your ass. You’re awake instantly, the slight tipsiness from dinner vanishing into thin air. You’re on high alert, eyes darting back to the television to see what the fuck has aroused him, but there’s nothing of note happening onscreen. It’s just a conversation between characters, exposition setting up the next stage of the plot.
“Gaz,” You say, and your voice comes out louder than you had intended. “Stop humping my ass.”
You’re half-expecting him to deny it, but he just huffs a quiet snort, his nose nuzzling against the back of your neck.
“Sorry, love.” He says, though he doesn’t sound sorry in the least. “Can’t help it. Missed you loads.”
You can feel his cock even through the layers of your clothing, and you swallow hard. God, you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him, though it doesn’t seem like the right time to admit it. How are you ever supposed to get over each other if he keeps coming to stay with you every time he gets back from wherever in God’s name he’s been, when he holds you so sweetly and talks to you like you’re still his girl?
His hips rock into you in a movement that’s almost imperceptible, except you’re waiting for it. His hands are gripping your waist, his fingers curling into the soft flesh there. He’s always enjoyed the way your body yields to him, so much softer than the hard planes of muscle that make up his own, and it’s no surprise that he goes straight back to holding onto his favourite parts of you even as he ruts against your ass.
“Jesus, Gaz–” You start to complain, but your voice is a little too breathy to be convincingly angry.
“Stop that,” He murmurs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck. “You never call me that.”
That is true – after the breakup, calling him Kyle just seemed too intimate. It’s a name that usually falls from your lips with care, in soft whispers made for dark rooms and quiet moments. His callsign offers distance, reminds you both that what you had is in the past. Or that it should be in the past, at least.
“Kyle,” You concede tiredly. “You dickhead.”
He just hums. He knows you well enough to know that you’re not really angry; you’re not even attempting to move away from him, though you know you should. The film is mostly forgotten in the background, though you’re vaguely aware that the two characters onscreen have now progressed to confessing their love before the big final battle. You just sigh; this little romantic film moment is only going to encourage Gaz even more.
Yet still, you don’t move.
The way he’s grinding his thick cock against the swell of your ass is making your blood run hot. The pressure every time his hips roll lightly against you and the way that he uses his grip on your hips to pull you back against him is making your brain all stupid and fuzzy. It’s the only reason you can think of to explain the way you shift, the way you allow your bum to brush back against him. It earns you a soft little grunt that’s mostly muffled by the way he’s mouthing at your throat.
Oh, it would be so easy to slip the sweatpants that separates the two of you down, to allow him to slide into you. A little woozily, you think it would feel like he was coming home.
But to actually have sex feels like too much of a commitment, too confusing a step to take when things between you two were already muddled and confused enough. You’re almost afraid to even turn around to glance over your shoulder at him, as though making eye contact might mean you’ll both wake up and stop.
Gaz’s cock has gotten even harder, filling out thickly as he slots against the clothed groove of your ass. He’s not even touching your pussy, and yet your knickers are slick and sticky. It’s embarrassing at your age to be laying on the couch, watching a movie and getting dry-humped like a fucking teenager, and yet your skin feels as though it’s been lit aflame.
Then rustling fabric breaks the silence, and Gaz shifts a little behind you in an odd motion as the insistent pressure on your ass is finally relieved. In its absence, you’re almost disappointed. 
You tilt your head, just barely turning it, just enough to see that he’s just pulled out his cock.
“Kyle–”
“Sorry, baby,” He says again, panting against the side of your neck and making you shiver. “– ‘m just too hard, getting uncomfortable. Ignore it.”
Ignore it? You think, a little hysterically. The gentle rocking of his erection into your ass was one thing, but how the fuck are you supposed to ignore the fact that your ex is all pressed up against you, still holding you by the waist with one hand as the other fists at his cock.
You glance behind you and down before you can help yourself, your self-control as lacking as ever. Fuck. You’ve missed the sight of that. He has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, even if right now it’s flushed dark and angry and painful looking. Your mouth waters. He was obviously telling the truth when he said it was getting sore, and you feel a reluctant swell of sympathy.
“Been thinking of you for months, baby.” He murmurs, placing a wet, messy kiss on your throat. “I can’t even fucking cum properly when you’re not around, it’s not the fucking same. God, even missed the way you smell–”
As if to punctuate that, he presses his nose in your hair and inhales deeply. You know you smell like the sweet perfume you had sprayed earlier, your favourite one. You know from experience that it’s also Gaz’s favourite one. You tell yourself it’s a coincidence.
“Why didn’t you fuck someone else then? Get it out of your system?” You say, and it comes out a little harsh, a little raw. It reveals more than you want to; you feel a little ill at the thought of Gaz with some faceless girl, holding her and making her laugh, her hands touching him like you do.
If Gaz picks up on the bite in your voice, he’s kind enough to ignore it. He just huffs a quick snort like the suggestion is ridiculous, his sloppy mouthing at your neck turning into a chaste affectionate kiss that feels totally at odds with the desperate motions of his hand pumping at his cock.
“Why would I do that when I had a girl waiting for me at home?” He asks, his voice so soft with you. “Never wanted anyone else.”
Your toes curl, guilt coiling in your stomach. You hate that you feel pleased that he’s waited for you, that he doesn’t want anyone else. You’re not being fair – it had been you who had broken it off, after all. He should be able to get with whoever he wants to. Conceivably, he is allowed to. Yet you can’t pretend that you wouldn’t have been sick to your stomach if he admitted that he had. 
God, you feel like such a hypocrite. Here you are, admittedly all too happy that Gaz has stayed faithful to a relationship that isn’t even intact anymore, and there he is, having just witnessed you come home with a stranger’s hands all over you.
“We’re not together anymore.” You whisper, when what you want to say is I’m sorry.
“I know.” Gaz replies, and it sounds like For now.
It’s not a surprise when the hand on your waist slips around to your belly, and then lower again as it slips beneath the waistband of your bottoms. You try and fail to suppress the wet gasp that’s pulled from your throat when his long fingers coast over the front of your knickers, finding your clothed clit with unerring accuracy.
“Oh, lace, baby?” He says, his breath catching in his eagerness before realisation seems to set in. “Oh. This was for your little date, eh?”
The guilt again, gnawing in your chest. You arch your back, simultaneously shying away and crowding your ass back up against him. It’s mortifying, being caught with your fancy underwear beneath your baggy unflattering sweatpants by your ex-boyfriend and having him know without a shadow of a doubt that you intended them to be seen by someone else.
“I was–” You start to say breathily, but Gaz doesn’t let you finish.
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” He murmurs, his lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. “I know, I know. But he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you. Jesus, he didn’t even know what he fuckin’ had, ran like a coward–”
“Gaz–” You try again. You can’t help but feel as though you need to explain yourself, like the two of you should talk this through.
“You’re so soft, Jesus Christ.” He mutters, the side of his hand rubbing at the squishy flesh of your thighs as he strokes at your clit. “Were you always this soft?”
It sounds as though he’s trying to remember, desperate and wanting. You swallow thickly, closing your eyes as that familiar pleasure licks up your spine. He knows you so well, knows every part of you and exactly how to touch you, and you can hardly believe you ever entertained letting anyone else put their hands on you.
“I got a new body oil.” You breathe, distracted by his touch. “It’s– it’s vanilla scented.”
“Yeah,” He groans, and you shiver helplessly when you feel his tongue on your neck, licking a hot stripe up to your earlobe. “I can smell it.”
His index and middle fingers are so firm on either side of your clit, rolling circles around it without actually touching you properly. You sigh, back arching, but before you can actually enjoy it his hands are pulling away.
“Wait–” You gasp, your body crying out in protest as Gaz stops, pulling his hand back out of your pants.
Gaz just grunts, kisses your neck once more, then tugs your sweatpants down. You lift your hips up immediately, thoughtlessly, and then kick your sweats and knickers off impatiently. It’s a little embarrassing, especially when the cool air hits your slick, sticky thighs and you shiver.
“Oh god, fuck,” He groans, his plush lips dragging along the sensitive skin at the back of your neck. “You’ve ruined yourself, baby.”
It’s embarrassing to admit it, but it’s true. The dry spell you’ve experienced since the breakup has been little more than a mild inconvenience for the most part, but now it feels like your body is charged like a live wire. It feels like you’ve never been touched before, and you squirm backwards in an attempt to get any kind of friction again.
“Kyle–” You start to complain, but you don’t get to finish because then Gaz is slotting his cock in between your thighs.
He groans, taking a breath as he shuffles his hips closer. His pretty, glistening cock is wedged between the soft pudge of your thighs, the head of it nudging against the wet folds of your cunt every time he twitches.
“Let me put the tip in, baby.” He says, his voice gruff and wanting in your ear. “Literally just the tip, that’s it, huh? It’s not like actual fucking, right?”
In this moment, you think you’d agree to anything to get his dick into you. You had been all kinds of wound up even before you had come home to find Gaz waiting for you, but it’s like your body had some kind of Pavlovian response to Gaz’s touch because now you’re practically panting for him.
He’s right, after all. It’s not really fucking. It means that you can maintain the flimsy thin pretence that this means nothing.
“Okay.” You manage to say, though it comes out humiliatingly breathy. “Yeah, okay, the tip–”
Gaz’s cock is pressing into you before you can even finish your sentence, bullying into the wet grasping tightness of your cunt and making you gasp. 
You’ve gone long enough without getting laid that there’s a slight sting as he presses into you, but it’s overshadowed by the breathless relief. God, you’d forgotten how fucking good his dick felt inside you. He knows just how to use it too, and you wheeze slightly as he rocks an inch inside before pulling back again.
“Oh, fuck, baby.” Gaz moans throatily, the vibration of it rumbling right down your spine. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight.”
“Mph,” You manage to make a muffled sort of sound against the couch cushion your face is pressed against, your mouth hanging softly open as you pant for breath.
True to his word, Gaz just presses the first inch or so inside. You almost hold your breath, waiting for the rest to slide inside and split you open, but he doesn’t. He just rocks back and forth, just missing hitting the spot inside that makes your nerves sing.
You wish, stupidly, fervently, that just this once Gaz would go back on his word. That he’d abandon his promise to just stick that first inch of his cock inside, that he’d slam home and stretch you wide and let his cock brush against the nerves just a little deeper inside you. But that’s not Gaz’s style; you know he’s not going to give you any more unless you beg for it.
Gaz rocks his hips in teeny tiny movements, just enough to have you squirming in frustration. You’re so wet that you know he could slide deeper with ease if he only just tilted his hips right, but he remains doggedly steadfast in pumping just the barest inch into you, groaning with the effort it’s taking to stop himself plunging fully inside.
“Oh god,” He breathes, sounding wrecked in your ear. “You feel even better than I remember.”
You don’t know how he can even say that when he’s barely even inside you, but no matter how much you wiggle and squirm, he just won’t slide any deeper.
“You’re such an asshole.” You slur out against the fabric of the couch, your cheek squished against the cushions. Your chin is a little wet – are you drooling?
Infuriatingly, Gaz doesn’t even argue.
“Mm.” He grunts, kissing the curve of your neck. “What’d I do this time?”
The fact that he has the gall to ask only irritates you further. You let out a quiet, grumbling noise, but his hand grips at your hip and stops you from writhing.
“Just… just put the rest of it in.” You say, craning your neck to try and look at him. 
Your eyes are wide and wet, pathetically teary. You’ve been craving intimacy like this for weeks now. Maybe longer, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s the kind of pleasure you’ve only ever gotten from Gaz, and you wheeze as your body opens up under his touch. God, you don’t know how you thought anyone would ever be able to fuck you like Gaz does.
“Mm, you sure, baby?” He murmurs, nosing against the back of your skull. “Thought we were just cuddling.”
“Don’t be a dick.” You snap, your patience reaching the end of its tether.
He just laughs, a breathless sort of amused gasp, before snapping his hips forward in one sharp movement and seating his cock inside you. Though it’s what you had been demanding, the abruptness of it startles you and you yowl, your back arching.
“Sh, sh, shh, sorry, love.” Gaz pants, before sighing in wordless contentment as his broad chest curves around your back, his strong arm looping around your belly. “Oh, fuck. Missed this so much, you have no idea. I swear you were made for me, I couldn’t fit as well inside anyone else.”
“Just– just move.” You whine, a little plaintive. It’s humiliating how desperate you are, but there’s no turning back now. “Please, Kyle–”
Gaz pitches into movement instantly, as though he’s got something to prove. Or maybe he’s just worried that you’re going to change your mind. His hips pull back then snap forward again, and again. 
He’s so strong, his rhythm steady enough to rock you wildly back and forth on the lumpy couch cushions. You clutch at the fabric beneath you, gasping as his arm pulls you back and keeps you pinned against his hot, hard chest. 
“Oh.” You breathe, tilting your head back with a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into you from behind, the two of you plastered together like sardines in the tiny can that is your sitting room couch.
This is just what you needed, you think a little wildly. God, you’ve been craving physical touch like this for months, since the last time you had seen Gaz. It’s galling to admit that any other man is a poor substitute, unable to fill the void that your ex-boyfriend has left in your life.
“Kyle,” You whine, searching for something. You don’t even know what you’re asking for, but Gaz is as patient with you as ever.
He just hums, leaning in over your shoulder and pressing hot, hungry kisses along your jawline where it’s exposed as you lean your head back. The arm that’s been wrapped around your belly coasts lower, until his big lovely hand is pressed against your cunt. His fingers search for your clit and find it easily, confident and familiar enough with your body that he barely even has to try to make you feel good. 
Gaz coos soothingly at you and rolls your clit between his fingers as his thrusts begin to come faster and harder; he builds up a steady rhythm, one that lets him sink as deep inside of you as possible and quickly renders you speechless. The living room is soon filled with wet slapping sounds from where Gaz is pounding into you from behind, the grunts and pants and moans that both of you make rapidly drowning out the stupid action sequence playing out on the television from the long forgotten film.
Unbelievably, you feel a sweet stirring in your lower belly already. It’s with a sense of tired resignation that you acknowledge you’re going to come on Gaz’s dick, despite your original intentions for the evening. Typical. 
But he’s not going to last either, judging by the strained moans in your ear.
“Shit,” He curses, and then his teeth sink into the side of your neck. You shudder, the feeling of him sucking a harsh hickey into your throat sending electric sparks racing through your nerves.
You think, judging from the desperate edge to Gaz’s humping into you from behind, that Gaz has been yearning in your absence in the same way you have for him. You’re biting on your lip hard in an effort to stifle the plaintive, wanting little moans that are threatening to spill over, but your attempts at quieting yourself are mostly unsuccessful. It makes you feel a little crazy, but Gaz doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, the evidence that you want him too only seems to encourage him. 
Your eyes are half-closed as you fuck your hips back on Gaz’s cock, relishing the satisfied little cries he’s emitting into the back of your neck. You clutch clumsily at the strong arm he has wrapped around your belly, crying out yourself as the head of his cock hits that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your toes curl as your head tips back, your skull neatly cradled in the space between Gaz’s head and the couch cushions as he peppers kisses along the side of your neck.
The wet slapping of your bodies colliding is obscene in the quiet of the room; the stupid film still playing does nothing to drown it out. Your body is as limp and relaxed as a doll, allowing him to fuck into you from behind in a frenzy. Right now, you can’t even recall why you ever would have tried to deny yourself this pleasure in the first place.
His hips clap against your ass, those wet sounds getting even louder and more obscene than ever. Gaz is viscerally pleased with the way your ass bounces every time he fucks into you, because he moans and picks up the pace as if he just wants to watch your glutes jiggle every time his hips slap against you. 
That familiar ball of tension starts tightening in your abdomen, your body winding up for a long-awaited and much needed release. It’s so typical that this orgasm feels like it’s going to be a big one too, as though your body needed Gaz to be there to guide you through it in order to achieve proper satisfaction.
But then, in a move so infuriating you almost burst into tears, Gaz pulls out and leaves you high and dry.
“No!” You blurt, and it comes out almost as a wail. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry, baby.” Gaz says a little breathlessly. “Need you to turn over. Want to see you.”
As soon as you realise that he’s not trying to stop and that he’s just trying to reposition you, you’re quick to roll over so that you’re facing him. It seems like that’s exactly what he wanted, because he grins wide and reaches for your hips, eagerly pulling you closer.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He mumbles, his eyes like warm caramelised honey as they track over your face. 
You’re pretty sure he’s full of shit; you’re panting like you’ve run a marathon, you’re sweaty, your hair is dishevelled, and you’re still wearing the ugly sweatshirt you had put on earlier. Yet, even still, Gaz’s genuine little compliment has your heart flipping in your ribcage.
You can’t help but think that you and Gaz are like feral little animals right now. You can barely keep your hands off each other; now that you’ve rolled over to face him, his hands are roaming over your hips and ass like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you by touch alone. 
Embarrassingly, you’re no better – you lunge forward to kiss him, taking advantage of your new position, and he kisses you back hungrily.
Lying sideways on the couch like this is cramped, but Gaz uses his hand on your ass to tug you closer. Then he reaches down, long fingers gripping at your thigh before he pulls it up so that your leg is hitched over his hip.
Oh no, You barely have time to think it before his cock is pressing into you again, the slide made easy this time. Too intimate!
The panicked thought is swiftly dispelled the moment Gaz starts moving again, because goddamn this position is so much better. It’s almost difficult to tell where Gaz ends and you begin, so intertwined are your bodies. Gaz barely even allows for an inch of space. He fucks into you almost as soon as he’s pulled back, making for a fast, frantic pace that barely even gives you a chance to breathe.
You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you rock your hips mindlessly into his rough, almost animalistic thrusts. Your leg hitched over his hip means that he’s grinding into you deep, deeper than you thought was possible. 
The way the two of you are fucking feels a little bit unhinged, rutting and humping your bodies together in search of mutual pleasure. It should be clumsy and graceless, yet somehow it feels good, as though your body remembers exactly how good Gaz has always treated you, as though your whole being is having a Pavlovian response to his touch. Pleasure burns in your gut, tight and hot, and you moan stupidly as Gaz pounds into you.
“Oh god.” You say without meaning to. The sound of your voice shocks you; you sound wrecked, as though you’ve been fucking for hours. It would have been embarrassing to reveal just how affected you were if Gaz wasn’t also clearly just as eager for it.
“Yeah,” He says, a hybrid of a groan and a gasp muffled against your lips as he clutches at your ass and drives into you wildly. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
You are too, you realise wildly. You’re struck by how quickly you’ve both gotten to this point. This whole encounter has been frenzied and feverish, as though the poorly stifled desire between you had turned explosive. 
Gaz kisses you again, and his teeth clack against yours slightly as he licks into your mouth. It’s messy and wet, and it sends a delicious throb of pleasure shooting through your belly. He’s acting so possessive that it’s making your head spin. It should definitely be sending warning bells ringing in your head, or red alarms flashing in your minds eye – it can’t be a good thing that your ex-boyfriend is currently fucking you on your couch like he’s trying to claim you. But you’re apparently a little stupid and very weak, and Gaz has always known how to fuck you dopey and thoughtless. Instead of worry, you get the edges of an orgasm beginning to fizz in your peripheral awareness.
Your pussy must flutter or tighten around him as that lovely sweet promise of release edges closer, because Gaz moans in anticipation and his eager thrusts take on an edge of purpose. You almost protest when he breaks off the kiss, but then you realise that he just wants to be able to focus on keeping his rhythm steady. It’s frenzied and hot, and you swear the air itself is crackling as he kisses sloppily at your neck and fucks you hard.
“Love you,” He slurs in your ear, breathless. “Love you so much, baby.”
His thrusts turn more shallow and far more forceful the closer he gets. Little moans and whines escape his lips between kisses, the sounds ratcheting up in intensity as the two of you rut together.
“Tell me you love me,” He pleads, “Please— tell me you fuckin’ love me, baby. I know you do. I know you—”
You shouldn’t say it. You can’t say it. Yet his cock is fucking you sloppy and stupid, and your mouth moves before you even register that you’re speaking.
“Love you too,” You whimper like a pathetic little idiot, revelling in the exquisite feeling of him grinding against your g-spot just right. It feels so good, you know you’re so, so close to orgasm.
The ache in your abdomen persists— you clench tightly around his cock, your body straining as the muscles in your core clench, trying so hard to push yourself closer to the orgasm you know is coming. You’re so close, so so close— it burns, aches, drives you mad. All you can do is mewl, wrapping your arms around his muscled shoulders as he pounds into you despite the awkward angle.
You can feel your clit throbbing, pulsing, your entire body trying so goddamn hard to climax that you feel like you’re about to cry. You’re burning beneath your skin and all you want to do is gnash your teeth into the elegant line of Gaz’s throat, to leave some kind of indelible mark on his lovely smooth skin.
“Please, please, please— yes, fuck— oh, Kyle,” Your words come out on the breath of an uneven gasp, stuttering with each movement of his hips, perfectly synchronized. 
His voice is low and hot in your ear as he pants, “Let me come inside you, baby— let me, please— fuck.”  
You should say no. Every logical part of you knows that you should tell him to pull out, and yet the wires are crossed when it comes to your actual response. Your leg tightens around his waist, heart seizing in protest at the idea of him pulling out.
“Yes.” You gasp, continuing your streak of impulsive decision-making. Your own hips twitch forward in weak little humps in an effort to fuck yourself onto his cock, your clit grinding against the dark curls at his pubic bone. “Yes, inside, please–”
Your breathy, eager permission seems to give him a burst of energy. He picks up the pace, his body curving into you as his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. It feels as though your entire world has been narrowed down to Gaz, his broad shoulders blocking out your view of the rest of the room. You cling to him, breathless and messy as you whimper like a loser, your body trembling from the toe-curling zings of pleasure that keep shooting up your spine.
“Oh, oh.. Kyle, please–” You practically sob, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders. “Love you, love you, oh my god, I’m gonna come–”
Gaz grunts, obviously eager as his movements grow thoughtful and determined. He knows exactly what you want, what you need at this moment. His abdominal muscles tense and flex with every calculated, deliberate thrust. There is no way to escape the length of him moving hard and thick inside you – not that you want to escape so much as a second of it, of course.
“That’s my girl, always so fucking perfect.” He snarls as your body eagerly takes every dirty roll of his hips, palming at your thigh where it’s hitched over his hip. “Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve been dreaming of your cunt for fucking months, never wanted anything else–”
It makes no sense. Absolutely no sense, that those bizarre, lust-crazed possessive words are what drag you trembling, screaming over the crest of an orgasm so intense the walls of the room white out, each sweeping pulse leaving you unable to do anything but clench and shudder and arch beneath him.
Gaz fucks you like a damn machine; he gives you long, deep strokes over and over as you’re falling apart. Your body seizes around the hot flesh of Gaz’s cock, your mind going white as your cunt spasms, your hole clamping down and pulsing with every desperate, loud moan torn from your mouth. 
You feel like a sloppy little slut, your hips jerking towards him instead of away even as your orgasm washes through you and leaves your body tender and oversensitive. It feels so damn good to feel your mind washing blank and clear, not a single thought taking hold. 
When the toe-curling height of pleasure subsides, you find your nerves frayed and hyper-sensitive. A plaintive whine breaks out of your throat as Gaz keeps fucking you, beginning to thrust up frantically into your twitching pussy. Your body falls limp as Gaz bounces your pliable, warm body up and down his cock as he groans into your ear.
It’s like the rhythmic tightening of your drooling, creaming cunt has him losing his mind, because he grabs the meat of your hips and begins jerking your limp body back towards him. The slap slap slap! of the impact is so loud that every slap makes your breath catch.
“Fuck. I'm—” Your hands slap clumsily at his shoulders, reaching for anything to hold on to, but he doesn’t stop. "Kyle. Kyle—" It’s just your voice, hoarse, breathless, and Gaz bearing down on you, the sound of your bodies somehow growing sloppier, messier as he fucks you and it’s uncompromising, just skirting the edge of painfully overwhelming—
He breaks, shoulders trembling, head bowed into the curve of your neck as he lets out a long, desperate moan. It’s a drawn out, rough groan that is more sob than pleasure, and then you feel him inside you, spilling red hot and wet. Your own orgasm still isn’t fully finished, rolling leisurely through you in little aftershocks, your body still tightening and shivering, and it goes on and on and on.
He holds on to you throughout, as if he’s worried he’ll blow away into the wind without anchoring himself to you. His hips slow, but don’t fully stop. He rolls his hips into you slowly, leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world as he shivers in his come down. You blink, waiting for the colour to bleed back into your vision and for the ringing in your ears to stop, and for the first time all night you’re not thinking about anything at all.
“Please, Kyle.” You slur out stupidly. You have no idea what you’re even asking for; there’s just some vague, barely formed desperation floating around your painfully blank mind as you search for something.
“Mm.” Gaz hums. It feels like he’s everywhere, his broad chest filling up your sight and enveloping you. His hands roam over your body: the backs of your thighs, squeezing as his hands drift over your ass, up and down your back, your neck, his fingers catching around the thin strands of hair and the back of your neck, until finally he settles his fingers on your cheeks.
His palms stay there, just cupping your cheeks as the two of you struggle to regulate your breathing and regain your composure. That antsy sense of desperation eases a little when he leans in to nuzzle fondly at your face, dropping sweet little kisses along your cheeks and nose.
Gaz’s chest rumbles with a low, lovely laugh, his voice gravelly from his climax. “You’re overflowing, sweetheart.”
You let out a careless little sigh, before relaxing experimentally. You can feel a gush of warm seed begin to ooze out around Gaz’s cock, spilling out of your entrance and coating his balls. You wriggle lazily, cunt still pulsing as your wildly beating heart gradually slows to a lazy flutter.
You think you should probably be panicking now. You’ve just fucked your ex, told him you loved him, then let him come inside. With no condom. God, you’re stupid. But the wave of horror you’re expecting never comes. You feel too floaty to care; you suspect if it was anyone other than Gaz, the mortification would have knocked into you like a sledgehammer. 
“You’re gonna get cum on the couch.” You complain, the words coming out clumsy on your tongue.
Gaz just snorts. He makes no effort to pull out, and you have no desire to push him away. The intimacy of your sweat-slick skin pressed together is enough to take your breath away, and it’s only further compounded by the sensation of his cock gradually softening inside you.
“I’ll get it cleaned, love.” He drawls lazily, leaning in to kiss your swollen lips. “Or pay for a new one. Whichever you want.”
When you kiss him back he sighs fondly, one thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You’re still limp in his arms, boneless and spent as you wriggle greedily into his arms. His cock is still lodged inside you, and you’re sure he must be getting uncomfortably sensitive but to your relief he just moans in quiet appreciation when you try to worm your way closer.
“You made a mess.” You mumble against his lips. 
You’re being a little unfair, considering your own slick is coating your thighs and Gaz’s lower belly, but Gaz has always rolled with even the most unreasonable attitude you’ve thrown his way. So he just chuckles, and you feel a little insane as you wonder if anyone else would ever be as patient with you.
“Think we both did, doll.” He murmurs fondly. He leans in and catches your lips with his again, kissing you slowly with a lazy, lewdly open mouth. One hand curls against the nape of your neck, the other hand reaching up beneath your sweater and curling possessively against your left tit, sweeping over your sluggish, sated heartbeat.
You feel practically brainless after your orgasm, relaxed and loose in Gaz’s arms. There’s something to be said for how safe you feel with him, as much as you’d like to deny it, but reality is starting to slowly sink in.
You pull away from his mouth to try and collect yourself, unable to think when he’s kissing you like that. 
“Fuck.” You breathe, closing your eyes with a sigh. It’s slow, but you’re finally starting to think again. “We shouldn’t– we should have used a condom.”
Gaz’s eyes are lidded with fond amusement as he watches you quietly. His hand kneads at your breast absent-mindedly, as though he’s forgotten that he’s groping at you. 
“Don’t overthink it,” He murmurs, kissing your forehead again. “I saw your box of pills in the bathroom. And I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but you.”
You tremble a little at his admission, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You feel like you’re losing your mind. Gaz is the most beautiful man you’ve ever met, funny and sweet and always so caring. You love him, even if it kills you a little to admit it, and you don’t know how to respond to his admission that he’s been faithful to you during the long months you weren’t together.
Gaz misinterprets whatever expression is on your face, thumb stroking soothingly over your cheek again. “We can get you a morning-after pill, if it’ll make you feel better.”
You don’t bother correcting him. You’re not that fussed over the morning-after pill – you’re careful when it comes to your birth control, and Gaz had always cum inside you when you were together. The weight of his cock inside you is comforting almost, the wet slide of his cum dripping out of you makes you feel as though you’d never been apart in the first place. You wonder how you could ever have been thick enough to think that someone else could fill Gaz’s place in your life.
As if he knows what you’re thinking, Gaz’s lips twitch. “That pillock you brought home would’ve been such a disappointment, darling.”
You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, exasperated. 
“You don’t know that.” You grumble, though you don’t pull away. You’re still all curled up against his chest, skin still slick and sticky from rapidly cooling sweat, your leg still slung over Gaz’s hip to keep his now-soft cock nestled inside you.
“Sure I do.” He says, and that cocky arrogance that both drives you mad and makes you swoon is rearing its head. He reaches down, and his thick fingers roll over your much-too-sensitive clit. “She missed me, gorgeous. Don’t think she would have liked some strange tosser pounding away at her with no idea how to please her.”
The way he talks about your pussy as though it has its own thoughts and feelings has you rolling your eyes again, though your cheeks burn with embarrassment. To your immense irritation, you think he might have a point. You haven’t come that hard in months, not since the breakup.
“Oh, shut up.” You sigh tiredly.
He snickers, and then shifts. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s pulling his hips back preparing to pull out. Your brain stalls, and you wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders in protest. You’re not ready to feel the invasive, aching emptiness that will no doubt throb through your core as soon as he’s not filling you up. 
“Stay.” You say, and it comes out as an embarrassingly breathy little plea.
Gaz goes practically limp, as though your hoarse request had taken the wind right out of him. You’re not expecting the way he brings both arms around your waist before rolling over onto his back, hauling you up to lay over his chest. His cock remains firmly lodged inside you, though the movement has resulted in his white creamy spend leaking out onto your inner thighs.
“Not going nowhere.” He mumbles, one hand stroking over your flank to soothe you. “I’m on leave for at least a month.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” Gaz hums. He must sense that this is a delicate moment, because he doesn’t make any ribald jokes about having all month to fuck you like you’re expecting him to. He just presses a tender kiss to your temple, his lips lingering gently.
Usually, you’d probably be a little embarrassed by how clingy you’re being. You had been so damn determined not to fall into bed with Gaz after the breakup, but you’re so, so weak. His stupid honey brown eyes and gorgeous dimples and crooked grin is enough to send you to your knees. You rest your forehead against his chest as he holds you close; at least like this, you can’t see his stupid handsome face.
He’s obviously pleased with the way you’re snuggling into him, because his chest rumbles as he hums in satisfaction. He’s holding you tight like he thinks you’re going to slip away the moment he blinks.
“You okay?” He asks quietly.
You don’t answer immediately. There’s no way to brush this under the carpet, or to go back to pretending at detached disinterest. If you had wanted to play this off as just a bit of stress relief, then you should have rolled away from him the second he’d spilled inside of you rather than cuddling with him on the couch. There’s no way that you can claim that this was just a case of needing to get laid; you’re still clutching at him like a limpet, the two of you intertwined so tight that it’s difficult to tell when your limbs end and Gaz’s begin.
“I’m tired.” You sigh eventually, sidestepping the conversation that you know you’ll have to deal with eventually.
No doubt Gaz notices your not particularly subtle avoidance, but he doesn’t comment. He seems quite happy to indulge your every whim; he probably wants to avoid the this-was-a-mistake-and-we-need-to-maintain-boundaries conversation even more than you do.
“Let’s get you to bed then,” He murmurs, and then he surprises you by sitting up. You’re still laid out across his chest, which means that when he shimmies up into a sitting position, you end up sitting sprawled in his lap.
You’re still speared a little awkwardly on his soft cock, the sensation of him inside you making your eyelids flutter a little. You feel satisfied, your muscles still watery and weak, and you sigh a little mournfully when Gaz finally pulls his cock out of you. You ache, a deep throb that both stokes and settles you. It’s like a comfortable little reminder that Gaz was here, and that he left his mark on you.
You can feel the way he leans back just to get a glimpse of his spend trickling down the inside of your thigh. You pout and bury your face into his throat, your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders still as you try to hide your sudden self-consciousness.
But Gaz isn’t interested in giving you a moment to hide. You feel the edge of his teeth ghost the shell of your ear before he speaks, just low enough to make you shiver.
“Let me take you out tomorrow, sweetheart.” He says, and beneath his usual cocky countenance you hear the edge of a plea. “I’ll make up for ruining your date tonight. You can wear that little dress from earlier for me again.”
You feel exposed, stripped bare as you perch in Gaz’s lap. His hand strokes evenly over your spine, waiting patiently for your response.
“I want a fancy dinner.” You mumble, your fingers curling around his shoulders. “At a nice restaurant.”
You hear a shaky little exhale, and Gaz’s arms tighten around your waist. It strikes you that he’s relieved, and you feel your heart tremble in response. The knowledge that he wants you still is enough to have your own lungs seizing in response; you can’t quite bear to wonder if you’ve been wasting time for these past few months that you’ve been broken up. 
“Whatever you want.” He says it like a prayer, tilting his head in search of your lips again.
The kiss is easy, the months that you’ve been apart dissolving into nothing. You’re a little too stubborn to give in entirely and beg for him back just yet though, but you doubt it matters. You’ve already admitted your weakness for him in the middle of shagging, and you’re not stupid enough to hope that he’s somehow forgotten it. You’ve been trying so hard to shove all those feelings down deep, but you’re not too surprised that they’ve all come bubbling out. He’s got a month of leave. You have no doubt that he’s going to use that time to change your mind. You find that you don’t mind the idea as much as you thought you might; you suspect that you can be swayed all too easily.
You peek up at him, only to come face to face with his sweet, hopeful deep brown eyes. He’s not pushing, but you can see the weight of desire and yearning in every inch of his face. No doubt it’s mirrored on your own. You don’t think you could ever look into his pretty face and deny him anything.
You hum, then whisper the only answer you could ever give.
“Yeah. Okay. It’s a date, then.”
3K notes · View notes
candylix · 13 days
Text
netflix, no chill | lee felix
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Pairing • Felix x GN!Reader
Summary • You're watching Felix's favorite movie, but you can't pay attention with his hand in your pants. Even worse, every time you're close, he stops what he's doing to tell you trivia about the movie. Unfortunately for him, you're more invested in getting some relief.
Genre • smut, pwp
WC • 1.2k
Content • no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina, clit stimulation, fingering, edging, dry humping, piv penetration, creampie
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"Oh, see that tree in the back? It actually almost fell on top of a crew member while filming," Felix says, pointing to the screen. His fingers on your clit stop while he talks, something you've been dealing with for the past 20 minutes.
You're sitting on the couch between Felix's legs, watching a movie he's obsessed with, and his hand has been in your pants since it started. But every time he explains the lore, or the differences between the book and the movie, or tells you about what happened on set, his fingers stop. You can't tell if he's doing it on purpose or by accident, but he has a lot to say, and you can barely pay attention to anything but your pulsing core.
His fingers go back to circling your clit, dipping down into your wet hole and smearing the juices over your core. Your head leans back into his shoulder as he presses into a spot that makes you twitch, rubbing it until you can barely keep your eyes open. You can feel that familiar warmth in your stomach, orgasm building as he runs his fingers through your folds.
You feel one of his digits insert into you, and a quiet moan passes between your lips. His fingers pump in and out, dragging along your walls. All you hear are the wet noises your pussy makes, the movie long forgotten in your bliss. He curls his finger, rubbing against a sensitive spot, and you can't help how your body twitches against it.
A second finger teases your entrance, and he stretches your hole as he slips it in. The fullness you feel inside is enough to take you closer to your climax.
Suddenly, you hear a loud shout from the tv, and Felix retracts his fingers from inside you.
"Ok, you see how the shield he uses is circular," he says, miming the shape with both hands, and you can see your juices coat the hand that was just inside you. "In the book it was more of like a round diamond shape." He mimes the shape again, and all you want is for him to stop and go back to what he was doing. Your impending orgasm fades away.
"Felix, please," you beg, and he suddenly remembers what he was in the middle of.
"Oh, sorry."
His hand finds its way back to your aching core, cupping it while he shoves popcorn into his mouth with the other. He strokes the flesh around your clit, sliding easily against you with how wet you are. You lean further into his chest, relaxing back into the feeling. His fingers caress your eager nub, and when you groan as he strokes a sensitive area, he rubs into it harder.
You can't help the way your body mindlessly rocks into his hand. You don't even realize you're doing it, just letting yourself chase the feeling. He notices, though, because your rocking grinds against his crotch. The more he rubs your cunt, the harder you buck against him.
His fingers finally dip back into your hole, and the sounds of your sopping wet pussy enveloping him makes his cock twitch. He thrusts into you, making you moan his name. He can't pay attention to the movie anymore, too distracted by the friction against his throbbing dick as you grind into him, lost in your own pleasure.
He curls his fingers into you, rubbing against your walls, and bucks into your ass. You clench against his fingers as he thrusts deeper into you, about to finally cum, but a loud crash interrupts you as someone on screen gets thrown into a wall.
Felix's attention is once again on the movie. His fingers are inside you, unmoving as you throb around them, and his hard cock presses into your ass.
"This is important, watch. So that guy just killed the main character's brother, and that's going to be what sets up the events of the sequel."
You can barely parse what Felix is saying, mind too clouded from being edged this long. You try to hump his fingers, body begging for any kind of relief, and he finally notices when he feels movement against his dick again.
"You're really not paying attention, huh?"
"How can I? Every time I'm about to cum, you stop to tell me trivia," you whine.
"Yeah, but it's cool trivia. Like now," he says, and the scene changes to the characters walking through a forest, "did you know this was shot near a town with a lot of Bigfoot sightings?"
He can see on your face that you're not listening, mind filled with thoughts of him fucking you until you can't move. He sighs.
"Fine, I'll help you."
He clears the space on the table in front of you, and guides you onto it, laying on your stomach. In this position, he can fuck you while still watching the movie.
He pulls down everything standing between his dick and your cunt, and he admires the view. You're bare from the waist down, lying on the table, legs rubbing together in anticipation of his cock inside you.
"You better watch the movie when I'm done."
"I will, please, please start," you beg, and a soft smile adorns his lips. You were very cute like this, bent over and desperate for him to fuck you. This was a sight he rarely got to see.
He spreads your legs open, and his throbbing shaft prods your entrance. You moan as he pushes inside, easily sliding in from how wet you are. His thrusts are slow and steady, making sure he doesn't miss important scenes of conversations you couldn't care about right now. His cock pumps in and out, filling you up completely before pulling right back out.
"Faster," you moan, and he dutifully complies.
He speeds up his thrusts, groaning every time he bottoms you out. He hits you deep enough to hit a sweet spot you can't reach by yourself, and as he bucks faster, he slams into it with more force. Felix can't hear the movie anymore, the noise drowned out with his body slapping against your cunt and moans that cry out in pleasure.
His pace is erratic, his own desire to chase his high at odds with helping you reach yours. You can feel yourself coming closer to climax with each thrust hitting deep inside you, and your walls clench around his cock as you finally cum. You moan his name, juices drenching him as he pounds into you. The pressure on his dick as you ride out your high, and the way his name sounds coming out of you, brings him to his climax. He releases himself inside you, filling you up completely. He pulls out carefully, watching you twitch from the slow pull of his dick against your walls, and collapses back on the couch. The view of your juices mixes and seeping out of your pussy, it almost makes him want to fuck you again. But then he remembers what's about to happen in the movie, and that urge subsides.
You catch your breath on the table, and you feel his hands massage your bare ass.
"In this part, they were actually going to have an extra scene where they fight this one huge monster from the book, but it had to be cut," he says, as if he hadn't just cum inside you moments before. He was going to tell you facts about his favorite movie whether you wanted to hear them or not. "That monster is actually really relevant to the plot in the third book, so I'm not sure how they're going to introduce it when they make that movie."
You lift yourself off from the table, and move to sit back between Felix's thighs. He wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles his head into your shoulder.
There's no way you were going to be able to follow the plot.
839 notes · View notes
sturncrazy · 5 months
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CABINFEVER:
Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)
(anyone else green)
warnings: SMUT!! nsfw 18+ (loss of virginity, unprotected + no pull out…assume ur on birth control)
authors note: love a little sweet smut matt moment 🫶 also imagine the world wasn’t falling apart and there was still snow 🤪 HOPE U GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!!
summary: you and a group of your friends rent an airbnb cabin up in the mountains for a winter get away, but it’s short on beds. You settle for a bench and Matt takes the couch next to you, but things heat up when you get cold…
word count: 2,915 W
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“HOLY FUCK! it’s FREEZING out” yelled Nick slamming the door behind him. He was the last one inside the cabin and join the rest of you in stomping the snow off your shoes and hanging up various layers of winter-wear. You and a group of 7 of your friends decided to rent an airbnb up in the mountains in New Hampshire for a week to have a cozy vacation. You planned to sled, go on winter walks, make cookies and cozy drinks, play games, and just enjoy being together away from the rest of the world. The only problem was not all of you going had a budget like the triplets, Larray, and Madi. even though they offered to cover for the rest of you, it didn’t seem fair. so you settled on a slightly more quaint cabin instead of a big mansion. the catch was that there were only three bedrooms. You were always easy going and determined that everyone else be happy, so you had made peace with the fact that you’d probably end up on a couch long ago.
“so who’s gonna be living room buddies with me, huh?” you questioned.
“guess that would be me” said Matt, with a sheepish smile.
No surprise, really. Matt was an angel to everyone, so of course he’d be the first to say he’d take the undesirable sleeping spot. you grinned back at him, maybe a little too much. You’d been close to the triplets since you were kids, but Matt had always been your favorite. You related to his quieter side and always had a soft spot for him. A soft spot that went deeper than you wanted to admit in the last few years. Matt was always good looking, but lately something felt different…even though you’d never tell him that.
“i can live with that” you attempted to joke. The living room was beautiful, but large and drafty. there were a few armchairs, but only one oversized couch. next to it was a big window that had a little nook fitted with pillows.
“you take the couch, yn” Matt said, gesturing with his head.
“wha—no way. then where will you sleep?”
“I dunno i’ll figure it out don’t worry bout it. I’ll grab a beanbag or make a pile on the floor” he said blowing you off
“Nuh-uh. no way. you take the couch, i’ll sleep on that window thing”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah a hundred percent”
“Mmmm okay, but if you wanna switch at any point just tell me okay seriously” the genuine concern in his wide blue eyes made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. truth be told, you really didn’t mind this set up because you’d be sleeping just a few feet away from him.
“Deal” you smiled back at him.
The group of you had a perfect evening. it was like something out of a hallmark movie, but by 2am everyone was going to sleep. Matt showered upstairs, which gave you time to get ready for bed and throw on your lame excuse for sleepwear—an oversized tshirt that hung to just above your knees. you’d never wished you’d overpacked and brought shorts more. you tried to cover up your exposed skin with blankets as you heard creaking from the steps. Matt trotted down in flannel pants and a black tank, hair still damp and clinging to his face from the shower. seeing him like that made your throat grow dry.
“Y’tired?” Matt asked, arranging his pillows on the couch so that his head would be by yours, your bodies creating a right angle on their separate resting spots.
“eh, not really. you?”
“nah, not so much. bit of a night owl lately, i guess.” he said, sitting down and beginning to rummage through his bag. you laughed.
“name a time in your life you’ve ever been a morning person?” you teased
“hey shhh i could be if i tried.” he shook his bag vigorously
“shit. think i forgot my phone charger”
“oh i have one, you can use it” you said hopping up to grab your stuff. you strode across the room towards your suitcase without thinking, but suddenly felt heat on the back of your neck like you were being watched. you glanced back at Matt and just barely caught him staring at your bare legs before he quickly looked away. you’d completely forgotten about your choice of outfit and felt embarrassment flush your cheeks.
“here y’go” you said shoving the wires in his direction, avoiding his eyes.
“uh thanks” he said, with equal avoidance. you reached to turn off the last light in the room in hopes that would drown out the awkwardness. Before you knew it the two of you were laughing and chatting away in the strained moonlight leaking in from the window. This went on for about 20 minutes before the chill coming from outside started to get to you. your teeth chattered slightly. mid sentence, Matt halted.
“what’s wrong?”
“oh nothing, just a little breezy here, it’s fine”
“what? you can’t sleep there then! you’ll get sick!” his protective nature was borderline heart melting.
“Matt c’mon. I’m not that weak, i’ll be fine. I’m not making you sleep here”
“Then share the couch with me at least”
his offer caught you off guard and you paused for a second, processing before answering.
“you sure?” you asked, unsteadily. another small moment of silence. was he regretting what he’d offered?
“yeah, of course” You detected a small crack in his voice.
“I don’t wanna crowd you—“ he cut you off
“y/n it’s fine seriously, just c’mhere. it’s just me, don’t be weird.” he answered, sounding almost more like he was trying to convince himself than you. you crept over to the couch. Matt was on his side, already holding his blanket up with his arm to give you a spot to slide into. at first you laid down face to face with him.
“hey” he said quietly, inches from you. you smiled up at him. it made your heart race to see him from this angle, this close. you were sure he could hear your heartbeat if you stayed like this a second longer, so you rolled over so your back was to him. matt made a funny noise, almost like he was clearing his throat. your knees hung off the couch slightly, so you backed up to not fall off. Matt let out a strained cough.
“Matt are you okay? you sound like—“ you started to turn your head to face him, and inadvertently twisted your hips against his body. you felt his hand latch onto your waist, halting it. he winced and let out a small hiss
“y/n please” tumbled out of his lips, his whole body going stiff.
“Matt what’s wrong? I—“ suddenly you became away of a hardness pressing against your lower back and ass. your breathing hitched. Matt was hard. and you could feel it. Matt was hard and was pressing against you, hell it had been caused by you.
“oh my god” you whispered.
“fuck y/n i’m so sorry—holy shit. this is awful. i feel disgusting. i never wanna make you uncomfortable i—“ he began to babble sounding on the verge of tears
“Matt no—“ he rolled onto his back looking up at the ceiling. you turned onto your side to face him.
“No, y/n. this is so bad-oh god. i was worried this would happen, i mean being anywhere near you i’d worry about that, but i thought i could control myself and fuck i’m so sorry“
“wait what do you mean you worried?”
“come on, y/n. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. of course i’d worry, but you’re also one of my best friends so—“
“you think i’m beautiful?” matt paused and looked at you in the eye.
“are you joking, y/n?” you shook your head.
he took a deep breath before continuing.
“I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world” you exhaled rockily, scanning his eyes.
“and i can’t believe this is how i’m telling you that or i did anything to make you feel—“
“Matty, stop” you said, putting a hand lightly to his chest. it heaved at your touch.
“you didn’t do anything wrong, at all. i just never knew you saw me the way the way i see you”
“y’mean you—?” you bit your lip and smiled at him, nodding. he let out an exhale of relief and excitement and smiled back at you. he inched closer to your face, hesitantly.
“can i kiss you?” you nuzzled your nose slightly against his.
“yes, Matt” he leaned the rest of the way in and gently pressed his warm pillowy lips against yours. the feeling was better than you could’ve ever imagined. he pulled away, not wanting to seem too eager or pushy, and waited for you. you glanced from his eyes to his mouth before pushing back against him. this kiss was different from the last. there was fire and passion to it. your lips began to meld together, creating a rhythm as his hands reached for your waist. you wrapped an arm around his neck and ran your hand through his hair, which resulted in a huffing of air from his mouth into yours. his tongue slid against your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you immediately granted. you pressed your lower half against his. he grunted and squeezed your hip. smiling against your lips he rasped out
“careful there, problem from earlier is not exactly gone yet” your stomach flipped
“good” you breathed out, pressing your bodies flush again. he looked at you wide eyed, his pupils dilating, before diving in for the heaviest kiss yet. you lifted your leg up slightly, wrapping it around him. the move caused your shirt to slide up to the top of your hip. matt ran his hand up your thigh and gripped your ass causing you to let out a small whine. he bit at your lip slightly and used this new hold on your lower half to move himself between your legs further and on top of you. he pulled away from you to take off his shirt and you felt heat electrify your body at the sight of him uncovered in the weak blueish light. he smiled at you shyly before kissing you again. one strong hand began to trail over the sensitive skin of your stomach, up your shirt, sending ripples of buzzing through your body as the tips of his hand approached your braless chest. Matt ran his fingers delicately over your nipples, hardening at his slightly cold touch. you shuddered.
“can i take this off?” he said, tugging at the hem. you nodded vigorously and helped him pull it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. you fought the urge to cover yourself as his eyes engulfed the sight of you.
“god you’re so perfect” he almost moaned out. you giggled and tightened your legs around his lower half, encouraging him back down to you gently. the feeling of his warm bare chest against yours made you let out a sigh. he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, breathing hot warm air against your sensitive skin before gently sucking and pulling through his teeth. you whimpered into him, wrapping your hands back into his hair. he retaliated by starting to grind his hips against your heat, the feeling of his hard on painfully present. your two most desperate spots only separated by your underwear and his pj bottoms.
“Matt—“ you moaned out
“hmmmm?” he hummed into your neck. you needed him in ways you couldn’t explain. you squirmed beneath him. he pulled away to look at you and raise an eyebrow.
“what is it, beautiful?” he cooed, making you flustered. you pushed your hips back up at him, unable to come up with words.
“ohh i see” he chuckled out. you felt a flash of embarrassment and tried to cover your hands with your face. he grabbed your wrists lightly and lowered them.
“Want me to make you feel good, ma?” he said softly into your ear as he dragged his hand down your stomach and to the waistband of your underwear. you whimpered, desire crying out for contract between your legs. he lowered his fingers over the thin cloth that covered your pussy and dragged them up and down, giving you a teasing amount of friction.
“more, Matty, please” you cried out. he gingerly pushed the fabric aside and ran his fingers along your dripping folds
“god you’re so wet” he whispered out in awe, looking down at you , hungrily. he seemed almost in a trace, but the torment was too much for you. you grabbed his wrist and guided his hand, positioning his finger tips at your entrance. his breathing shallowed as he looked up at you while inserting his digits deep into your core. you became a mess as Matt continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them upwards expertly.
“fuck i could watch you like this forever” he panted
“mmmm feels—ss—so good, matt”
“god you don’t know what you’re doing to me, ma” your walls clenched at the thought of his hard length. you reached down between your bodies and palmed at his crotch. he let out a groan. his impressively large hard on throbbed under your touch, straining against his pants.
“oh my god, y/n” he mumbled, closing his eyes. you’d never seen anyone look so sexy before.
“Matt, I want you” you gasped, without thought. his eyes flickered open, his pupils were blown.
“Are—are you sure?” he said, struggling to breathe.
“I’m sure” Matt reached to untie his drawstring. you watched him, closely, as he loosed his pants and lowered them. your mouth watered at the sight of his large rock hard dick slapping against his stomach, the tip already dripping precum. he leaned back over you and began to line himself up with your entrance. nerves shot through your body.
“wait matt”
“what? whats wrong? should i stop?” he said, looking up at you with worry
“No, no definitely not, i—i just—i haven’t done this before?”
“Oh” he said smiling with relief
“Are you sure you want to? we can wait i’m fine to wait. i don’t wanna do anything you’re not ready for”
“NO!” you said a little too eagerly “I really want to” you finished shyly
“Okay” he chuckled. He realigned himself and gave you a gentle kiss
“This is probably gonna hurt a bit, okay? we can stop any time you want to” you nodded and he began to push his tip slowly into your entrance. you cried out at the feeling of him stretching your insides so much. he paused for a moment.
“do you want to stop?” he said sweetly
“No. keep going” you said wincing. he pushed himself to the base of his cock and moaned at feeling you completely around him. he slowly began to slide himself in and out of your pussy. the pain started to turn into pleasure.
“go faster, matty, please” he listened and began to pick up his pace, creating a delicious rhythm and hitting your sweet spot deep inside of you with each thrust. you let out a string of curses and cries at the sensation.
“fuck you feel so good around my dick, baby”
“oh god don’t stop”
“you like that, sweet girl”
“yes—fuck yes—i like it so much”
“you’re so fucking perfect, princess. god i love being inside of you”
“Matt—oh my god—fuck—I—“ you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach as your buildup started to reach its peak.
“you gonna cum, sweetheart?” Matt lowered one of his hands to press on your lower stomach, where he was deep inside of you. your vision began to blur.
“Let go, baby. Cum for for me” your hearing buzzed and you saw flashes of white as you came undone. Your walls clenched around Matt’s cock causing his thrusts to become sloppy.
“fuck, gorgeous i’m close—where do you want me to—“ he panted out
“just keep going, matty” you cooed still coming down from your high
“wh—you-you sure?” he questioned fighting off his release
“yes, don’t stop. keep going for me”
“oh my ffu—god-yes—anything for you” he stuttered
“fuck baby i’m gonna cum”
“yeah? cum inside me, matty, please”
“OH GOD FUCK Y/N”
“i wanna feel you cum”
“OH—IM CUMMING—OH FUCK—“ Matt cried out thrusting into you, wildly. He halted deep inside you as he released hot spurts of his cum into your core. he collapsed, panting heavily. after a moment, he pulled out and quickly leaned back down to give you a kiss before reaching to grab you your shirt. you smiled at each other, sheepishly, as you got redressed. he pulled you tightly against him and ran his hand down the back of your head, soothingly.
“How was that?”
“Perfect” you mumbled into his chest, breathing him in.
“Yeah?” he chuckled into your hair. you nodded.
“I’d say so too.” he said.
“I’ve always dreamed of getting to hold you like this” he whispered
“really?”
“mhm”
“me too” he paused for a moment
“what would you think of maybe being something where we could always be like this?”
you pulled away to look at him and he grinned at you. you pulled him in for the biggest kiss you muster.
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why am i gonna cry? WHY CANT THE MEN I MAKE UP IN MY HEAD BE REAL.
2K notes · View notes
flseur · 5 months
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꒰ 𐙚 holiday sex — jjk men ꒱
⟡ synopsis : winter dates that jjk men would take you on, and what happens after them !
⟡ characters : satoru gojo, kento nanami, suguru geto
⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, size kink, standing doggy, overstimulation, soft to rough sex, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, praising, squirting
౨ৎ note : this started off as a genshin fic but i turned into a jjk one bc i haven’t posted anything for it in a bit
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୨୧ SATORU GOJO
❥₊ ⊹ with his apartment being right near a canal, during the winter time it was bound to be frozen over. and one of satoru’s favourite things to do, ever since he was a child, was ice skating.
so when the months got colder, and the ice was thick enough to skate on, he was excited to have you celebrate that tradition with him. he made you sit on a bench while he tied your skates and made sure that your jacket was tightly done up before taking you by the hand, leading you on the ice.
his nose and cheeks were flushed red due to the cold weather the two of you were once outside in, but also because of the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around his cock.
he had you bent over the granite top of his kitchen counter, the idea of the hot chocolates you once craved long forgotten with how satoru was bullying your velveteen walls.
your slick messily coated his length, dripping down his balls as he pulled soft mewls from your throat. the thrusts of his cock were delicious paired with the feeling of his large hands grabbing at the soft skin of your hips, pulling them back to meet his thrusts halfway.
"a-ah! satoru! s'big..." your words slur, your mind was too focused on the searing pleasure your boyfriend was giving you instead of forming a full sentence.
satoru curses at the sounds of your moans, your sobs only spurring him on more. he watches the fat of your ass move each time his thick cock grinds into your pussy. his pace was unrelenting and his thrusts were calculated, each one hitting that gooey spot inside of you.
you were so perfect. pretty face with crystalline tears running down the apples of your cheeks, back sinfully arched, clothes discarded, and your cunt that satoru swore was made just for him was milking him dry.
"so perfect, baby..." he groans, "you're so fucking perfect." then one of the hands that was on your hip slithered to where the two of you were connected. his lithe fingers feathered above your clit, teasing you lightly.
"don't tease..." you sigh. your breath hitches then fades into a moan when you feel his digits begin to rub circles on the bundle of nerves.
it was all too much. satoru was too much. the feeling of his cock dragging through your walls, him playing with your clit, and his moans. he invaded your every sense and you swore you could feel him everywhere all at once.
"ohmygod... g'nna cum, fuck!" you cry out, body spasming and pussy convulsing as white, hot pleasure shoots across your abdomen. your legs were about to give out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure but satoru's strong grip on your hips is tight and his cock is still pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt.
"give me one more, baby... one more..."
୨୧ KENTO NANAMI
❥₊ ⊹ what started off as kento travelling overseas to new york for a business trip, turned more into a vacation with you accompanying him on it.
he at first was very adamant about focusing on doing the paperwork for his up and coming meeting for the company’s clientele. but when it comes to you, his workaholic demeanour faltered fairly quickly.
he let you drag him down the snowy-covered concrete paths of new york to look at the different stores, hand in hand. you stopped at different shops and bought a few gifts for friends for the holiday season, then you pulled him over to some little cafe in an old brownstone building to grab warm apple ciders, hoping it would satiate your sweet tooth.
and as the sun sets, casting the beautiful city in an orange haze, the two of you decide to make your way back to the hotel you were staying at. as the two of you unlock the door to your room, you can't help but give your husband a sweet smile. and kento can't help but kiss it off of your face.
those sweet kisses turned into something more. winter coats discarded and your clothes soon following after them, as you've now found yourself underneath kento, moaning and swallowing back loud sobs as his cock stretched out your little hole.
kento peppered open-mouth kisses on your neck as he shallowly thrusts inside your pussy. "fuck… sweetheart... stop squeezing so tight..." he groans.
"you feel s'good, kento..." you moan, fingers lacing themselves through his blonde hair, tugging at the roots.
his thrusts sped up, fucking into you at a rougher pace and you cry out.
he pulls away from your neck to look at you, god you were so beautiful. kento brings one of his large hands down to your abdomen and presses down on it, watching your eyes roll back into your head. the strained moans he was pulling from your throat were heaven-sent.
your pussy pulsed around his cock, dragging him further in. kento's head lolled back as he felt you squeeze him tight again. the hand that was once on your abdomen creeps down and rubs fast circles on your puffy clit.
he couldn't hold back his moans as he continued to fuck you senseless. you felt so good but hell, he looked so fucking hot right now, you could cum just at the sight of him.
his usual stoic facial expression was completely gone and replaced with one overwhelmed with pleasure. his skin was flushed pink all over, hair messily pushed out of his face and his abs, covered in a sheen of sweat, contracted with every rut into your messy pussy.
your orgasm washed over you with little to no warning, you grabbed at kento's broad shoulders as you shook from the intensity of it, nails digging into the skin and he groans.
"o-oh fuck! kento!" you cried out. "cum inside! please cum inside!" you were begging him to fill you up, to make you mess. and that was all he needed to hear to have him spiral into his own orgasm. kento's thrusts became irregular as his hips stuttered, eventually stilling inside of you.
"shit..." he cursed as he came, his cock twitching inside of your dripping cunt. "you're so messy..." he chuckled, pulling out watching his cum dripping out of your hole.
"says you..." you mumble, hiding a smile, "you look like shit for a serious businessman."
"haha." kento gives a sarcastic laugh then lays down on your chest, pressing kisses to your jawline.
୨୧ SUGURU GETO
❥₊ ⊹ as winter comes each year, the weather gets colder which meant that it was finally the perfect time to stay inside. so when you looked outside of your apartment and seen it snowing, you decided that it was the perfect time for you and your boyfriend, suguru, to do some holiday festivities.
"oh wow!" you gasp, looking at his gingerbread house. “a-are the windows supposed to look like they’ve been broken into?”
suguru snorts at your question, “they’re supposed to be curtains. and this,” he points at two blobs of icing that you were assuming to be snow piles, “is us. see?”
“really?” you ask, trying your hardest not to laugh. his effort at trying to make this cute made your heart swell, but he wasn’t exactly the best at executing it.
“no, i’m just fucking with you,” he laughs. “i forgot to put the metal thing on the icing bag so it just spilled out there.”
“you mean the piping tip?”
“yeah, that thing.” he smiles.
you giggle at him then yawn lightly. “do you want to go watch that christmas movie now?” you ask.
suguru nods his head, you could tell that he was getting a bit bored with decorating the gingerbread houses. so, the two of you quickly cleaned up then head to the couch.
though soon enough, you weren't paying much attention to the movie. suguru had peeled your clothes off of you, leaving searing kisses in his wake, completely distracting you from the film. as he reached lower and lower, you felt your breath hitch when he was face to face with your cunt.
"need me this badly, baby?" he teases, bringing up a teasing finger to your folds, collecting your arousal on the tip of it.
and who were you to ignore him? you did need him, especially when he was looking up at you behind those long black eyelashes, and his pink lips so close to where you wanted him most.
"y-yes..." you stutter, "please.."
suguru smirks then leans in and licks a stripe from your hole to your clit. his lips wrap around your bundle of nerves as one of his digits pushes into your pussy, thrusting in and out.
you choke back a sob when he adds a second, then a third finger into your aching cunt, hips grinding down onto his face. he hums against your clit, pulling back to watch you.
your face was contorted in pleasure, one hand grabbing at the cushion of the couch while the other grabbed at your own breast, pinching and tweaking your pert nipple. you were making it harder and harder for suguru to ignore the ache of his cock, begging to be freed from the confines of his boxers.
he brings his mouth back to your pussy, flattening his tongue and then swirling your clit around with it as his fingers continue to pump inside you at an unapologetic pace.
"just like that! mph!" you cry out, arching your back. you were so dizzy, the feeling of suguru's tongue in between your folds was driving you crazy.
the taste of your arousal was intoxicating to him, he wanted you to cum so badly. but he wanted you to cum, everywhere.
as your moans become higher pitched, suguru knew you were going to come soon. he angled his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside of you, your eyes rolled backwards as you orgasmed with a strangled cry.
"i-i'm cumming! oh! fuck!" you hiccup, hips spasming against suguru's face as you squirt. your arousal coats his hand, upper arm, lower half of his face and suguru drank it all in.
"that's it, princess... make a mess on my face." he mumbles, fingers still pistoning inside your pussy. you felt yourself being hurrled into your second orgasm and it was coming quickly.
"suguru! can't! is t'much! oh my fucking god!" you sob, gasping as you cum for a second time. white flashes blurred your vision as your head spun, hips sputtering and your pussy clenched around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm.
"good girl." suguru praises you, finally removing his soaked digits from your sopping pussy. he presses a kiss to your clit before coming up to kiss your temple. "you did so good for me, baby.”
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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