#throw a fucking pitch buddy

[shotmrmiller]

simon isn't a man you take home. he's for the literal streets. dresses like he's homeless because all that matters is that his throwing knives and handguns are pristine. the only reason his home is spotless is because he doesn't live in it, it's all for show. his pantry has only salt and mouse traps, his fridge a long expired bottle of ketchup and something that if anyone ate, they'd gain superpowers.

he's got a crazy look in his eye, and who can blame him after all that shit he's been through? gut-wrenching betrayal, unimaginable torture, then buried alive shoulder to shoulder with his ol rotting buddy, ol decaying pal? he joined the military a butcher's apprentice, and now he's an echo of what simon riley used to be, a fading silhouette that wanders the corridors in base. a ghost.

he has to play music whenever he's not at work just to keep the screaming voices in his head at bay, and it has to be loud enough to drown out the incessant high-pitched ringing in his ears. a cacophony of noise that wears his thin string of patience into in-existence.

he's a killer, he's a man who's donned his skull mask for so long that he's forgotten the face underneath.

you don't bring a man like him home. and when you eventually did, even your parents had agreed.

he looks one clown short of a circus.

he hovers over you like a ghost. (ha)

possessive, obsessive, paranoid.

he'll kill you if you try to leave him.

simon heard everything, not like they had tried to keep their voice down. it hadn't really mattered to him, empty words pelting knotted flesh only a sharpened knife could cut through. but you hadn't taken any of it.

his little hero, coming to his defense. it'd been the first time- in a long time- that his icy cold, tiny heart skipped a beat.

simon's always been his own savior. he saved himself from the shit life he had with his family by joining the army. he'd clawed his way out of his own grave, freshly turned soil stuck under his fingernails for weeks. he'd gone after the head of roba, in the name of vengeance. even now, he's a part of the justice league, the task force 141.

unsung heroes.

and here you were, standing in your parent's kitchen, all bared teeth and scalding temper- over him.

simon's so aroused that when he rises from where he's seated, he sways on his feet. there's no stopping him from briskly walking over to you and hoisting you up and over his shoulder, heading for the door.

there's no stopping him from throwing you into the backseat, and climbing in after.

you weakly try to stop him with stammered words, just wanting to know what the fuck he's doing but when simon starts to impatiently undo the button of your jeans, his confined manhood pushing up underneath you, it clicks.

you don't want him to stop when the calloused pad of his thumb rubs your slippery clit with expertise, thick fingers curling inside your swollen cunt.

you definitely don't want him to stop when his cock slides through your slick folds, his hand wrapped around his thick base. his tip pushes inside, mild discomfort already flaring. gravity then does the work, slowly sinking you onto him until his thighs are flush against your arse. the sweet, decadent burn of him splitting you in half sparking your nerve endings alight, from the waist to your knees.

you beg him not to stop when he fucks you in earnest; desire, sticky and wet, dampening the coarse trimmed hair of his cock. the air inside the truck muggy, heavy and thick with sex. he places his hand under your navel, right when he knows he is, and grunts when he gently presses down. the noises coming from you and your sodden pussy are obscene, lewd, downright vulgar and he wonders if you'd let him record it- to replace the banal music he usually listens to.

your breath hitches beautifully, and simon makes sure to watch how you let go of his shoulder to weave that hand downward to take yourself over the edge.

"impatient little pet, can't even wait f'me to get ya there, eh?" the low chuckle he lets out is cut short at the feeling of your slick walls fluttering around him, making him groan. he keeps his sharp gaze on you when your body tenses, back arching as you jerk fast, little circles over your pearl. he plants his feet and begins to thrust upward, your weight nothing to his strength and-

how beautiful you look in the pleasure he brings you.

it's cliche, truly, that he comes when you do, but he couldn't care less in this instance. your cunt squeezes him like a silken fist, a tight vice that milks his cock almost painfully so. his grip around your waist is bruising, but it only adds to the sensation- the delightful bite of pain prolonging your pleasure.

the base of his spine tingles from his climax, and his breathing is ragged. alive. your hands skim the wide breadth of his chest, as if brushing off the dirt he'd once been buried under.

his little hero.

you took him home, so now he takes you to his.

(...don't look in the kitchen, pet.)

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader

[sunghoonnsupremacy]

PRETTY BABY! - sim jaeyun ꨄ

- warnings : pussy eating in public, cussing, dirty talk

- words : 663

"you've got such a pretty pussy." my eyes widen, turning around to face the person who said that. "sim, what the hell? we're in class!" i whisper back at him and kick his shin from beneath the desk. he just smirks and rolls his eyes. "meet me in the art room during lunch, okay?" i nod and turn back around to try and pay attention to the lecture but the aching between my legs made it hard to focus.

TIMESKIP TO LUNCH.

my shoes clack against the floor as i walk throughout the halls of the somewhat empty school. everybody's at lunch, including my friends who i had to explain to my absence at the dining hall.

that simple answer being sim jaeyun, or jake as he preffered. we're not dating, nor are we friends. fuck buddies if anything. we met at a frat party and hooked up and ever since then it's been these annual meetings when one of us, or both were horny.

I open the door to the empty art room and immediately get attacked by a pair of hungry lips. "took you long enough." he peppers kisses around my face and collarbones, unbuttoning my blouse and groaning at my white lingerie. "wore this just for me baby?" jake looks up at my eyes, panting. i raise an eyebrow and decide to tease him.

"maybe, or maybe it was for heeseung." at that, he slams me against the wall leaving me wincing at the damage. "don't lie, heeseung could never fuck you like i do." his fingers linger around my waist before sliding down between my legs. "he could never make this pussy wet like i do." my thighs automatically squeeze at his possessiveness.

jake smirks, "let me eat you out, yeah?" i eagerly nod and sit down on the chair that's next to me with my legs spread. he hungrily licks his lips and gets on his knees. "please.. jake. need it so bad." i whine and tug him closer by grasping his hair in a tight hold. jake rips my tights apart and groans at my slick already coating my pussy. he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb and licking around my opening.

i gasp at his teasing and try to close my thighs around his head to bring him closer. instead of my plan working, he grips my thighs and brings them apart. "keep them open baby." i groan at his slow pace and try to beg for it. "jake.. please eat me out." i see him smirk before diving into my pussy.

soft gasps leave my mouth as my eyes widen and his tongue starts doing wonders inside my pussy and his thumb rubbing my clit faster. "oh g-god!" a loud moan erupts from my throat when he plunges two fingers inside and starts thrusting them at a fast pace. he removes his thumb and starts sucking and licking around my clit like his life depends on it. i start to whimper at his desperation, him eating me out like he hasn't eaten in years.

jake adds a third finger and continues slamming them inside, reaching my gspot in seconds. i start seeing white and my moans get louder. its like the both of us have forgotten we're still in school, his tongue slurping up my juices and my whimpers reaching a high level of sound.

"come on my pretty baby, cum. I know you want to." he removes his fingers and starts tongue-fucking me. "fuck jake im c-cumming!" i let put a high pitched moan and cum around his tongue, letting him lick it all up.

I start to squirm at the over stimulation yet he looks like he's barely finished. when i start to push him away, he shakes his head and looks up at me. "you're gonna cum until im tired." i groan and throw my head back. maybe it wasn't such a good idea idea to mention heeseung, or was it?

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jake #jake sim #jake smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen drabbles #jake hard hours #jake drabble

[matrixbearer2024]

Roller Rinking, Dancing and Dreaming

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: I went roller skating with some friends and one of them pitched the idea of a date at the roller rink with Vox and Reader, though it's not really a date anymore for those two since the Hazbin Hotel crew tagged along because Charlie didnt realize that this was supposed to be a special occasion. Oh and Alastor is just going to be kind of a sore thumb because it's funny. Also found this pic of Vox(it's not my art and I don't know who drew it HELP-) but it's his getup for his and Reader's date because I will not have this flatscreen idiot take us out in his fucking work clothes. Velvette give this man a proper wardrobe PLEASE-

A/N: I'm probably going to write a lot of date ideas between Vox and (Y/N) to prolong the slow-burn and also so I can include the other characters anyway- so if you guys have any other ideas- go ahead and drop them down below and I'll try to fit the ones I think would work best! As always, happy reading and I hope you guys enjoy!

A/N: Final note- but this was the song I was listening to while writing this long LONG chapter so if you guys wanna vibe to it while reading go ahead lolol- Song's called: "Shut Up And Dance" by Walk The Moon.

If there was one word Vox would use to describe you, it had to be crazy.

Or cute, but that was besides the point-

He'd always thought your ideas couldn't get any wilder, only to be proven wrong in at the very least a few hours.

Especially when he was reminded of the time you made a papercraft of his clothes while he was stuck to your TV screen.

And the time you sent him earrape audio during a meeting for no reason?

And calling coffee "Bean Juice"?

He could go on and on about the random insane things you would do periodically.

But because he grew so used to it-

More like he always ended up looking forward to your entertaining shenanigans-

The first thing Vox had done was give you a new VoxTech phone with your custom app on it.

At this point, he defaulted to using it if he were to check on you anyway and you had no complaints.

Alastor gave you both shit for bringing tech into the hotel only to get flipped off by the two of you anyway.

Lucifer had to stop himself from laughing because the deer was practically throwing a tantrum at being so nonchalantly brushed off-

Vox chuckled as he reminisced about it.

That was all few days ago, and it seems like you've settled into hell quite nicely.

You made friends with nearly everyone at the hotel, save a certain radio cannibal who you also liked to annoy-

And you'd even met Velvette on one occasion.

Well, more like Vox wanted to fashion you a wardrobe but didn't trust himself to pick good outfit combinations so he just entrusted the task to his fashionista colleague-

What he didn't expect was for the both of you to hit it off fairly quickly after that and ended up staying in touch online.

Vox even wondered at times if you were talking to Velvette more than him already but didn't think about it too much-

You haven't been to the Vee tower since that outfit shopping spree and well, you kind of understood why.

Especially after what you heard about Valentino from both Vox and Angel Dust.

That pimp guy was just someone you did not want to be around.

So that just left your TV headed buddy with no choice but to visit the hotel more and more.

Not that either of you cared much about how irked Alastor got because both of you and sometimes even Lucifer would often gang up on him-

Vox never really stayed, after all redemption didn't seem to be his thing with a whole media empire to run-

But sometimes you would force him to humor Charlie and try some of the activities, teasing him about it and saying he was cringe whenever he got awkward.

Vox just chuckled as he looked back on a lot of the moments you both had together, twirling a pen in his hand while he fondly remembered.

Of course until he eventually forced himself to stop daydreaming and focus back on the stack of paperwork in front of him.

He hadn't even really begun and honestly he didn't know if he wanted to.

It was busy days like these where he couldn't wait to visit and see you, work was stressful enough so just hanging around you and turning his brain off to your nonsense was enough of a distraction.

Ah whatever, that was enough of procrastinating.

It was a little while of him working on and checking the stack of documents on his table before his phone rang.

Vox didn't even bother to check the caller ID and just answered it because he was in work-mode.

So he almost ended up snapping his pen in two from sheer surprise when he heard your voice through the call.

"Heeeeey Vox? You free this weekend?"

The overlord just glanced over at his schedule and figured he could clear up a day or two.

It was only a day until the weekend after all.

He'd have to work double-time until then just to make up for the load but he didn't see a problem with it when the trade-off was spending more time with you.

"I could free up my schedule, why? Did you have something planned dollface?"

"Kinda, I heard there's a new roller rink disco club around the block and I wanted to go!"

"And you're telling me this, why?"

"Because I want you to go with me, duhhhh!"

Vox looked over some of the papers he had on his table absentmindedly and hummed.

Admittedly, you asking him about it first was kind of flattering- even if you knew he was a very busy guy.

He would often drop whatever he was doing just to help you if you needed it after all, so him rearranging his schedule on the fly like this wasn't anything new.

"So kind of like a date?"

He grinned when he heard you stutter and fumble over your words.

The overlord could only imagine just how red and flustered you were at the moment.

You'd always found ways to embarrass him back then when you were alive, so now he was just kindly returning the favor.

"N-no! Well- kind of? I don't know! Just wear something nice!"

"Sure doll, I guess I'll see you then?"

"Mhm, see you!"

Vox stared fondly at his phone when you ended the call, a smile working onto his face as he chuckled.

Who knew it was because of this specific little gadget that brought you guys together in the first place.

Putting the phone down, he cracked his knuckles and gave his table a once over.

It was covered in papers of all kinds but if he started now he could probably get it finished before tomorrow.

You threw your phone onto a nearby cushion and covered your face with your hands.

That stupid TV was too charming for his own good-

You grumbled slightly and crossed your arms, sometimes you doubted if Vox really even meant all the words he says-

Did it come so naturally to him to just be that charismatic?

But at the same time the guy could be a real annoying piece of work-

You really felt like just another sucker who couldn't decide whether you wanted to hug the overlord or strangle him.

"Heya toots! What's got you so worked up?"

"Hey Angel, just- dealing with Vox I guess?"

"Seriously? That's what you're all hung up about?"

"Hey! I'm not- hung up about it-! He's just so annoying."

"For once we can agree on something it seems!"

You screamed when Alastor suddenly appeared at your side, falling off the area of the couch where you were sitting.

If there was one thing you hated that the two media broadcast overlords had in common was that they loved loved LOVED to just sneak up on you.

It was getting really old and really tiring.

Frankly you had already been sick of Vox being a cheeky little shit doing it- you didn't need his rival to join in-

"Nobody asked for your opinion Al, and don't you have some murder to orchestrate or something?"

"HaHA! Not at the moment! Why, if you wanted to join me on my excursions you could've said so my dear!"

"Eugh- hard pass old geezer. Besides, I'll be busy this weekend."

"Really? With what?"

"Gonna go to that new roller rink disco club down the block. I used to go roller skating when I was a kid but eventually stopped as I grew older."

You figured it would be wise to leave out the fact you were going with Vox, you didn't need to arm Alastor any more ammunition to mess with you or his rival.

Thing is, you didn't necessarily notice just what chaos sharing your weekend plans would entail.

"Well if you're already going there, why not take the others with you?"

Oh fuck.

You forgot about Charlie.

Now you really wished you had kept your mouth shut, the last thing you wanted to do was hurt her feelings when she'd been nothing but nice to you.

"Okay hold on-"

Alastor couldn't help widening his grin when he saw your worried expression, well this was certainly going to get interesting.

"What a wonderful idea my dear! Perhaps I should go observe what this brand new establishment has to offer as well!"

"You antique motherfucker-"

Your fluffy deer ears pinned back as you glared at the radio demon, he really had to be toying with you when he said that.

Especially if what Husk had said in the past was anything to go by.

Alastor didn't like going to clubs or places that were similarly just as noisy and obnoxious.

So he was really just trying to shove you deeper into the grave you'd dug yourself.

"That's great Al! Maybe you could even find some more ideas for the hotel while you're there!"

You just covered your face in your hands, so much for just spending time with just Vox this weekend-!

How the hell were you even supposed to tell him about this??

"Yeaaaahhh... greaaaat..."

You weakly mumbled, tiredly looking up at Angel who just gave you an apologetic shrug.

You just gave up trying to mention otherwise when everyone else seemed more than eager for this weekend.

So much for your original plan.

By the time the weekend rolled around, you got yourself all dressed pretty with a casual top and jeans.

You decided against wearing anything that would leave your legs exposed since you didn't know if you'd fall down a bunch while rollerskating.

It was a while since you could remember the last time you tried.

Grabbing your phone and some necessities, you left your room and went to wait in the hotel lobby for the others to get ready.

"Vox where are you going?"

The overlord nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a familiar voice from behind him.

He swiveled around to see the youngest Vee just deadpanning at him.

Geez, and he thought he was being sneaky too.

"Ah! Velvette! Just- heading out. No reason."

"It's your date with (Y/N) isn't it?"

"It's not- oh whatever, what do you want?"

His colleague gave him an annoyed once over and the tech overlord just raised an eyebrow at her.

What was she planning this time?

"You aren't leaving wearing that."

"My suit? What's wrong with it?"

"For the occasion? Everything. Now come on- let's see if I can put something together for you."

While Vox didn't question what his colleague meant, he just followed Velvette to her studio when she gestured for him to.

He initially wanted to wear something other than his work clothes but after looking at the options in his closet he immediately went against the idea.

The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you by arriving underdressed.

"Nope. Too formal. Too risqué. Too boring. Too colorful- Aha! There! How's that?"

Looking at himself in a nearby mirror, Vox straightened the blazer he wore with a smile.

A light blue turtleneck with some loose slacks and a dark blazer on top, plus a pair of sneakers in his colors to throw together the whole ensemble.

He didn't have his hat this time, but he figured it was probably for the better that he didn't.

Comfortable but still dapper, he liked it.

"Your outfits are impeccable as always Velvette."

"Yeah yeah, you owe me one for this Vox. Now get going or you'll be late!"

The overlord didn't bother to ask his colleague about how she knew about his plans- you could've told her about it online for all he knew.

Instead, Vox just waved back at his colleague as he walked out the entrance of the building feeling excited to see you again.

So you could imagine his irritation when he met you at the club and saw everyone from the hotel there as well.

So much for it being a date-

"What the fuck are they doing here?"

He angrily whispered to you while the others were busy exploring the new building.

Pop music blared over the speakers as the lights flashed around.

A bunch of sinners were skating around the large rink that probably took up more than half of the whole club, some were just dancing around the sides outside of the rink.

It was exactly like an old disco club with the bar and even the older style furniture and aesthetic.

"Charlie suggested everyone come along and Alastor insisted, it wasn't like I had a choice."

You grit out in reply, crossing your arms and feeling slightly just as grumpy about the situation as your flatscreen companion.

"Whatever, we can still enjoy ourselves can't we?"

Admittedly, Vox looked pretty good in this new outfit.

You hadn't seen him in anything but his trademark blue coat and red vest he wore for work so this was something new.

And it was a good new, you'd thank Velvette later.

The overlord just smiled at you and nodded, leaving the others in the group to just explore as you both went and bought some skates for the rink.

More like Vox just didn't want to use the rental ones so he bought you each a pair to keep-

"(Favorite color)? You shouldn't have."

"Figured if I was getting something, might as well get the one you'd prefer."

Your giggle was nearly drowned out by the loud music but Vox still heard it, a soft smile forming on his face as he watched you eagerly put on your new skates.

"Honestly didn't think you'd remember about it, I think I only mentioned it once."

"Kind of hard to forget things when you've got a computer for a brain dollface."

You just lightly bumped his shoulder in jest before standing up and twirling on your new wheels.

Thankfully you could still remember how to work them, even if it was a long time ago since you'd done this kind of thing.

"Do they fit okay?"

"Pretty well actually, how'd you know my size?"

"Just guessed, I might be lucky today."

You just playfully rolled your eyes at his response, of course he'd pat himself on the back for that.

It didn't take long for Vox to eventually wear his own set of skates, he just had no idea how to stand.

"Come on! It's not that hard, I'll teach you!"

The overlord stared at your outstretched hands for a moment before taking them and standing up.

Again with the fuzzy feeling in his chest- what the hell-

The both of you wobbled for a second while your companion got used to the new center of gravity.

"Would you believe it if I said I have never ever done this before?"

"I think it kinda shows ya goof."

You continued to hold his hand as you showed Vox how to move forward, unfortunately for you- his sense of balance wasn't quite that great and you both ended up crashing to the floor.

The overlord landing on his ass and you landing on top of him.

The both of you exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.

You were slightly thankful for the strobing lights of the club, otherwise you were pretty sure Vox would've easily seen the blush on your face.

He was kind of cute when he seemed to just be enjoying himself...

You just shoved that thought to the back of your mind and stood up again, holding a hand out for your companion to take.

"You're not gonna learn if you just sit down like that ya know? Come on! I wanna get inside the rink!"

Vox just looked at you amused, taking your hand and hefting himself to his feet again.

He could practically feel the energy just radiating off you, the bright excitement in your eyes even as you lead him to the entrance of the rink with much less struggle this time around.

You were just adorable, you'd let go of his hand to twirl around the center of the roller rink to the beat of the music.

Vox just found himself smiling again as he approached you.

If being beside you meant he could watch and see you like this?

He would gladly take that position in a heartbeat.

#Youtube #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x reader #get off my screen series

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

You know how Wally can briefly give non speedsters superspeed sometimes? I'm reaaaaaaaaaaally hoping that he does that in The One Minute War because the entire war takes place in a minute and anyone who isn't a speedster won't have a single fucking clue anything even happened until it's over. Imagine just going about your day and everything is fine and then suddenly BAM! You're standing in a war zone.

Here's my pitch for that:

Wally, breathing heavily and bleeding in multiple places: HEY CLARK! Good to see you moving buddy!

Clark: What happened to you?? I just saw you at the meeting and- WHY IS THE HALL OF JUSTICE ON FIRE???

Bart, jumping over debris armed with a baseball bat and also bleeding heavily: Oh there are bigger issues than that.

Wally: BUT! We don't have time for that! I can only keep you at this speed without you dying or exploding for.... probably one minute speedster time?

Bart: Give or take a few pico seconds

Clark: All I hear are explosions and shooting. There are no screams. Or heartbeats??? Why can't I hear anyone's heart beating

Wally, grabbing his shoulders: Clark I need your consent to throw you at a spaceship powered by speedforce at near lightspeeds. We're not sure what will happen but we can't fly and the weapons system is too slow to even fire, so we're kinda out of options here.

Clark: What???

Bart: Look, let's just throw Conner.

Bart: He's cool. He won't care.

#dc #the flash #kid flash #dc comics #wally west #one minute war #bart allen #clark kent #impulse #conner kent #Superboy #kon el #superman

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 46

part 1 | part 45 | ao3

cw: recreational drinking

Somewhere around the second chorus, Nancy finally stops twirling, head down and eyes closed as she wobbles dangerously in place — Steve can see Jon tensing just in case he needs to jump in and save her from busting her ass — and when she looks up, her eyes lock on Steve like she's seeing him for the first time in forty years.

“Steeeeeve!” she slurs, smile sloshing over her features like a splash of spilled punch.

Good god. “Hey, Nance.”

She reaches over and paws at his arm, a swiping motion like she's either about to yank him in for a hug or wipe some lint off his sleeve, and says, “Steve, I— I, um- can- can we...?”

With a determined look in her glossy eyes, she pitches forward and slams into him. Steve goes flopping backward into a squishy leather armchair and lands with a lapful of Nancy. Nancy Wheeler, the ex who dumped him at a party not unlike this one. Who left him for a guy standing a foot and a half away.

Who's snickering into the crook of his neck now as she clings to his shoulders to try and stop herself from slinking sideways to the floor.

Steve throws Eddie and Jonathan matching looks — something between 'this okay?' and 'what the actual fuck?' — but Jon just shrugs like what're ya gonna do? and Eddie gives him a quick wink and turns his attention back to the boys.

Super helpful, Ed. Thanks so fucking much.

“Hiii,” Nancy giggles, looping her arms tighter around his neck to hold herself upright. It should seem flirty, but it doesn’t, somehow. Feels more like… sisterly concern?

Feels fucking weird, is what.

“Hi,” he says a little stiffly, his arms hovering in a loose bracket on either side of her in case she topples. He feels a little bad for being standoffish when she's in a sweet and friendly mood; doesn't want to be a buzzkill, but he doesn't exactly know what to do with an armful of happy-go-lucky hammered Nance.

Never did, really, because he couldn’t ever tell when it was genuine or not. Which was kinda the whole problem, wasn’t it?

Nancy pokes at the edge of the frown he didn't realize he was making. "Aw, don't..." she mumbles with a wounded little sound, her eyes sliding over his face, head bobbling like she's standing on the deck of a ship. “Or do," she hiccups and swallows a burp. Her lower lip trembles. "I prob'ly deser— deserve it."

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He would've killed for this conversation twelve months ago; would've killed to hear it sober and asking for him back.

Now he mostly feels bad for making her feel bad, even though she’s not exactly wrong. Maybe she did deserve it, once. But not here; not now. “No, you don’t,” he sighs and lets his arm skim her waist. “You don’t. You should be enjoying the party, I’m sorry.”

She protests with an almost violent shake of her head. “No,” she insists, overenunciating the word. “No. I do. I was…"

She straightens her spine and stares at him like she's trying to bore a hole through his head; like this is important. Like there's a cut on her hand and gasoline in the carpet. "I was bullshit.” She jabs her pointer finger against her breastbone. “I was.”

Steve blinks at her. Feels tears bead in his eyes and slither into his sinuses. Gently, he reaches out and pushes down on the back of her hand; guides it away from her chest until it falls back to her lap.

“Think maybe we both were,” he offers with a quiet sniff. Takes a second to just breathe, sharp and wet through his nose. “Thank you, though. For saying that. Means a lot.”

Her eyes still look sad, but the corners of her mouth lift in a small, hopeful tick. “It does?”

“Yeah.”

Across the room, someone clambers onto a kitchen counter and hollers, "Hey! Listen up!"

The music pauses; the moment breaks. The crowd turns to the guy, who cups his hands around his mouth and announces, “Fifteen minutes to midnight! Find your make-out buddy, folks!"

Commotion as everyone scrambles to pair up: Nancy looks at Jonathan and stumbles off Steve’s lap; Gareth stares forlornly at a girl over by the stairs; Frank purses his lips and tells Jeff to start puckerin’, princess, and Jeff laughs and shoves him with a playful "fuck off, dude."

Eddie’s only got eyes for Steve.

He’s staring right at him, eyes lit up with desire; twinkling stars in deep woods. “Get a refill with me?” he asks as he offers Steve a hand.

Steve stands and does his best not to sway into Eddie’s arms.

“Oh, my god," Robin mutters over the rim of her cup, "so we’re not seeing you two again tonight."

“What was that?” Steve asks. Eddie sticks his tongue out at her.

“Nothing, dinguses,” she sighs. “Happy new year.”

Steve wishes her the same, reaching out to link their pinkies and giving hers a quick squeeze. Pinky hug; love you, too. As he and Eddie shuffle past, Steve sees Argyle turn to Robin and casually try to shoot his shot.

“Hey, pretty bird lady…” he starts.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Robin responds by making crazy eyes and bleating out a nervous laugh that roughly translates to sorry sorry sorry sorry and never in a million years; Steve's tempted to lean over and clap a hand over her mouth to put her out of her gay misery, but Argyle's the most chill dude on the planet, apparently, because he doesn't even seem fazed.

“No sweat, my guy,” he shrugs and extends a closed hand. “Midnight fist bump instead?”

—

part 47

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle stranger things #corroded coffin #my writing #my fic

[honestsycrets]

exclusive | [miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader]

❛ pairing | fuck buddies: miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader (background pairing)

❛ type | one-shot, explicit

❛ summary | miguel learns his fuck buddy is fucking Hobie and feels some type of way about it.

❛ tags | heavy jealousy, somnophilia, fuck buddies, multiple partners, undisclosed sexual relationship, dubious consent: aggression/revenge, sloppy seconds, f!reader, lying by omission, spanish is not translated, an attempt at MLE, break ups, eating kitty, bit angsty, older hobie in this piece, break-ups.

❛ reqs fulfilled | Hey! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to know if you'd be down with writing something about Miguel x Reader who has been whining for his cock all day, crying and trying to run from it when he finally gives it to her? & where reader loves him but he doesn't, only for him to eventually fall in love but its too late because she's moved on, or vice versa

❛ sy's notes | here's for the anon that requested i release it. hope you like it, lil buddy.

Miguel wakes early in the morning.

Lyla usually woke him up with a Hey Miguel, Miguel, You have a meeting Miguel-- something teasing and aggravating all at once. That morning his room was so silent that he could nearly feel the heaving and dropping of a second heartbeat. His vision strains as his eyes take focus on the pitch-black room. He takes up the bulk of the bed with his large frame while the pillows are strewn over the floor. Your complaints of-- You never come to find me, you always ignore me. He quickly remembers what happened last night. Your legs were intertwined in his, scaling him like he was another bed in of himself.

"Lyla, what time is it?" he asks, massaging the crook in his neck. The world is quiet in his room. Out there, he knew there would be one problem after another. As soon as he peeled himself from the comfort of your warm embrace. Your legs intertwined in his, keeping him in the warmth of his bed, a spider's web of its own. He hates that he doesn't want to leave. Not yet, anyway. He knows he's in deep.

"About--" she pauses, "Nine o'clock?"

"¿Las nueve?" he shouts, pushing himself up on his thick forearms. "Damn it, Lyla!"

"I would've woken you up sooooner," she draws out in a long tease. "If you weren't too busy pounding your novía until three in the morning."

"She's not my girlfriend," not yet, he bit out, unpeeling your warm legs from his core. A brush more and he would have another type of problem to deal with that morning. As nice as it would have been to lay back down and wait until sleep released its tight grip on you, he had obligations.

"Yeah," she scoffs. "Okay, Miguel."

Lyla knew what he wanted. He wanted this. You-- to help make him forget the past and the future. To forget all the awful things that haunted him day to day. You could do that. He feels your sleepy eyes on him as he turns to sit up in his bed. Your heavy eyelids are cloaked with the ache for sleep. Or half-lidded in fervor for another round. He isn't sure which, yet.

"Te quiero, Miggy," he knows it isn't love you're talking about. Early in the morning, you need sex. He knows how insatiable you are even without your hands slinking around his muscular thigh, inching their way where they had no business going. He cups your hand and pushes away from his softness, knowing he has no time to spare getting worked up. Distracted. It's time to work.

"Manaña. Go back to sleep, I have things to do."

"Tomorrow? I'm not a tomorrow kinda girl, Miggy. " You're that kind of woman-- needy, achy, you need more from him. No matter how much he gave you with attentiveness and care, he could never give you enough. Your words are clear as you turn away, pouting. Miguel throws a look over his shoulder. "You're the only one who treats me like this."

There's the fit. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, shoving it out of his face as he gathers his bearings. You're slack against his back, lips curling into a pout at his suggestion that you'd simply have to wait for more attention.

"No empieces," he throws back. "I spent the night with you two nights in a row."

"To get off. Hobie's right about you. You'd never go to a show'a mine."

If there were ever an interloper in your relationship. It was, and would forever be, Hobie Brown. The displeasure on your face gently pulls at his heart. He's never been to one of your shows before. He's never even asked. It never seemed important to you until now.

He could do that.

"Where and when," his stomach roiled with something he'd distantly call anxiety. There was a truth to what Hobie said, he couldn't be a good boyfriend and take care of spider society all alone. He'd sure as hell try. If you thought Hobie was better, so be it. Miguel wrinkled his nose, concern lining his bushy eyebrows as he stood up, hands on his hips.

"Oh Miggy, that's just what I wanted. It's tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow, then."

Isn't that what he said earlier?

"Hobie!"

It doesn’t matter where it is, your eyes always seem to find Hobie. Ideally, Miguel would like your eyes to always find him. You spent the night in his arms yesterday and the night before that. Perhaps that was why you missed the spider punk. So when he walked into the meeting early that morning and dropped like a rock on the elevated platform you sat on, he wasn’t altogether surprised that you turned around to look at Hobie.

He was, however, surprised to see your hand slink along his plaid thigh, tugging on his lax suspenders. You're late, he heard you whisper. Yeah, what you going to do about it? Hobie reached out, letting his fingertips ghost lines up your arms. Miguel barks out your name, your fingers snapping back as if a spider bit them. They might.

“Oh my days, bruv, we gonna talk about this?” Hobie ripped off his mask, dropping it lazily by your hip. You swept it up and set it on your thighs. He suckled along the roof of his mouth, pulling his lip piercing in and out with a deliberate, slow hiss. “Or you busy watching my side ting?”

"Hobie," you willed him down. Your eyes catch and hold. "Shhh."

“Mans right pussywhipped,” Hobie balked out a laugh, bouncing at that awful word. His jaw tightened at the distinct sound of Hobie’s hands slapping your shoulder. Hobie is in a mood today. He wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t being picked on. “Look at him, is he serious? You mad, man?”

Hobie!

“I’m not.”

“I like the sound of that,” he could hear you whisper into Hobie’s ear, his senses more queued into small whispers than anyone else in the room. You rolled the word along your tongue. "Pussy whipped. You next?"

It was like he wasn’t even there. As if every moment you spent together was irrelevant. The days that the tips of your fingers grazed his shoulder blades, sweeping across his tight muscles. He remembered how it felt, your careful kisses on his neck after a long day, the drag of your nails across his muscular back as you took him so well on the desk he lectured at.

“You bugging? You know that's not happening. You ovulatin' today?”

Miguel prompts your name. You sit upright, his perfect good girl, a whole other person when you weren’t around Hobie. His brow creases and lines of worry and disappointment coalesce into a look that invites you to behave. You were listening now with a blow of a kiss at him as though that would deter him from finding out.

Miguel doesn’t like it when Hobie takes the piss out of him.

He especially doesn’t like that Hobie seems to know the intimate details about your body, like your cycle. That near the end of the month, every month, your sex drive ran wild. He thought it was a myth. None of the other women he had in his bed acted this way. You, however, were insatiable. If he didn’t know better… He flicked his fingers across amber screens, doing something he never did because he had no reason not to trust you. He skimmed your file.

Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life. Always at his damn concerts, clapping wildly at his old runway shows, drinking at the pub. You were an outlier dolled up in soft white, sparkling glitter makeup and darling strawberry blush next to a group of grungy anarchists and foul punks. On any given day, you might hold his head in your lap as your fingers coursed through his wicks. On special days, you buy new jewelry to change out the old. Every weekend, you like to sit on his lap in the pub of the week.

The others were negligible. He could excuse them. Hobie was something more. All it took was one offensive recording of sitting on Hobie’s lap in a seedy bar for his mind to turn red hot.

Despite being populated with many patrons, it didn’t stop you two from fucking in the bar after one of Hobie's loud shows. Others did the same exact shit. The ringing strumming, the shouting, fighting. It wasn't a scene he could see you at.

"Right there, papi, Hobie, there," your hips ground down, sultry moans puffing against his spiked choker while Hobie’s urged you up and down his cock, groping and slapping your ass around his dick. Your pink ballerina flats willing the movement by using the footrest to help guide your motion.

"Good, innit?" You didn't just like it, he realized, you loved it. Your huffy moans, the stares from strangers, the way Hobie commanded the scene. The bartender even threw Hobie a beer. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was Hobie's arrogance that no one was a threat or arrogance that no one would protest, but it pissed him off the same. He fucked you like it was nothing-- like fucking you in front of a host of sleazy men wasn’t a risk in and of itself.

He was too informal with you. He didn't treasure what he had. It was not the same, not like him. He heard your gentle footsteps in the lab. He shifted his weight between his feet, turning to see you hop up the platform. You fluttered your lashes angelically at him. Mi rey, you trilled. Your king. As though he hadn’t just watched you get railed by Hobie only days ago.

It was a fucking trap. A trap he was buying into, drinking you in. You looked pretty without your suit, clothed in a white, fluttery dress that barely kissed your thighs and nothing more. Like a fly to a spider web, he found himself gaping with his lips slightly apart. He brought his hand to his slight mouth, wiping away all inkling of his interest. You pout.

Miguel snapped back to his monitor. It was your scent lingering in the air, hypnotizing his dumb ass, your body eager and ready for him to pound full of his cum. Why else would you be in his lab? When you were strung out on his bed, properly bred, and leaking his cum, he was happy. He was happy with the tremors that wracked through your pathetic legs, that you were finally quiet for once in your damn--

“Oh? What's that?”

Miguel’s attention snapped to your figure, sliding along the edge of his desk, moving his hand without fear. You replaced it on your upper thigh, driving it between your legs. Horny again. His blown pupils followed the motion of your hand. He cursed his body for growing warm at the sight and smell of you. He hardening up as if his body had learned what to expect in the many days of experience fucking you. Most would have reconsidered what they were doing to him. Not you. You had no fear of men. You wanted him. Were you that insatiable?

“Hobie n' me?” you shimmied your shoulders with a knowing grin. The screen paused on a wet, sloppy kiss, Hobie's teeth nipping your lower lip. He was a biter. How had he missed his bites on your neck? Your soft, perfumed hand cradled Miguel's cheek, peppered in stubble. Your lips shifted up, tracing his sharp cheekbones. “Aw. I missed you too, Miggy. I always miss you. You're my big man.”

Yours. He might as well have been yours because you sure as damn weren't his. You led him on your little fingers with words like honey. A soothing honey that threatened to suffocate him in the weight of the words. If he listened long enough, he might fall in. Guilting him about his lack of time for you, Hobie Brown, the relationship you had, the kisses you exchanged, the sex-- the lies you omitted.

Miguel glides the clip away, bringing another to inspect. You remember it-- the day Hobie found out you fucked Miguel after a few hours of reconnaissance went south. You hadn't meant to piss him off. You only meant to take care of your needs. Needs that included sex. He was a means to an end, a brute that could fill what you needed. That much was becoming real clear, real fast.

"It go that bad? He got you in a fit," Hobie says. He can't help but notice you wringing out your suit, flinging it in your half-filled hamper by your bra, standing in nothing but a pair of soiled panties. Bruto, murmured under your breath-- a brute. He was. Hobie flickered his fingers off his guitar, a stray note irritating your hypersensitive ears. You cupped your ears in protest. "Oi, why are you airing me?"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just--" you bit the words, warm dread filling your chest with the next lie you told. You twirled your hands one over another. "I have a sore throat."

"A sore throat."

He wasn't buying that either.

"It's minor. Just a-- tú sabes, a little thing," you turned your hand over, whirling your bra drawer open with enough force to rip it out. Another growl rolled free from your lips, picking a powdery pink set and shoving it promptly back in. The drawer sat off-kilter. Hobie flipped his guitar over his shoulder and met you halfway, his hand warm on your mid back. It should have been comforting. Something in his eyes, even now, felt off. He recovered before you could answer.

"You fucked that man? Are you mad or what, wifey?"

You couldn't help feeling like you cheated on Hobie.

He stood upright, ripping himself away from your body, and brought his hand to his face to focus his thoughts. He had been fucking you for months-- and for months, he missed it. Miguel searched your eyes for a hint of shame or embarrassment. You had none, not even a lick. You were a kid in a panadería. Not only could you have Hobie, with his slender figure and exhibitionist qualities, but Miguel too-- with his big dick and need for love at the end of a long day’s work.

You played him.

His breath hitched as you turned around, shifting your hips back on his. It was enough. He had enough. His hand slammed over the rim, locking you in place against his muscular body. There was nowhere to run, even if you wanted to. You were happy to be there. Miguel wasn’t. His fingers trembled violently, forming a fist. You knew he wouldn't hit you. For all his rumble and roar, Miguel couldn't hurt you nearly as much as you could hurt him.

“You’re fucking Hobie,” he breathed into your ear.

“Mmm.”

A slight, noncommittal noise slipped out from your lips. It was not a denial, but not an agreement either. Irritation rippled across his skin with every damn swish of your round hips against his, shifting weight from one ball of your foot to the other. His body was alight with your soft body drawing trying to draw his pleasure to the surface. You were trying to distract him. Miguel wasn't about to let you.

"Answer me," he bucked his slender hips into yours, forcing you to catch yourself on the desk. You groaned. He had half the mind to fuck you right there, break in your pussy and leave you drooling over his desk. That would be easy. That was what you wanted.

"It's just sex."

“Are you dating him?”

“We don't do labels,” you said.

Miguel wracked your head back by your hair. A strangled moan slipped free from your lips, pleasure rushing to your cunt. You liked it. There were important details he had to know. Like-- if you used protection, or if you were safe when you weren't with him, or how you rid Hobie in raunchy pubs, and if you made out with Hobie until it was time to sleep. You know, important details.

“I do. I don’t share my women.”

“Yours? Fucking a woman ain’t keeping her, Miguel. You never asked me out on a date, put a ring on my finger, nada. It’s sex. Don't pretend like it's anything more."

"Is that all we are?"

"I've been fucking Hobie for months, Miguel. You want me to drop him-- for you? You don't even have time for me in the mornings."

His hand uncurled from your scalp, shoving you into the desk. He leaped off the platform, trudging somewhere, anywhere away from your body. He feared what he might do next if he kept hearing Hobie's damn name on your lips.

He could have done it-- let you have Hobie if you wanted Hobie so badly.

But it bothered him. Of all the women he could have had, he picked you. You were the only one he let grab him, shove him into hallways, suck him off under his desk, and be thankful for the strands of cum painting your nose and cheeks. You were the only one who slept with him at night.

Did Hobie need you the same way? Did he want you the same way Miguel did-- when he was inside of you, clambering over your body like a hungry beast, making you lay there and take him as he laid his brutal thrusts into your pussy. The way he battered your cunt, filled it up with his seed. Watched you heave heavy breaths-- because you were his to fuck and fill. The prospect of filling you up with his cum while Hobie was doing the same thing… ticked him off.

You were his, a territory that Hobie had no business entering. You had none allowing him to. Hobie didn’t claim ownership of anybody or anything at any time. It went against all he stood for. Miguel was inexorable. He wasn’t so bothered about the details. So long as the result was to his satisfaction.

“She’s at home, Miguel,” Lyla squeaked.

“Alone?”

“If you mean with Hobie,” she popped over his shoulder, sitting as if on a cloud in her fluffy jacket. His eyes rolled. “Then yes, he's there.”

"Show me."

"Nah, nah, nah, he's gassing you. How that man not know about us?"

You sat on your kitchen table, plopped with a hunk of pizza between your fingertips from the pizzeria below your house. Hobie's boots were thrown beside your mini-skirt. His chew was lazy and long. You sighed through it. You nipped the last bits of crust and grease off your fingertips.

"No sé. We never been a secret," you wiped off the rest of the grease between your thighs, ignoring the thought of your very first time with Hobie. But it was persistent, tickling the back of your mind, raging havoc on your unsettled heart.

White was your favorite shade. It was light, airy, like the sky. The sensation of falling through tufts of clouds. But it also made the consistent British rainstorms all the more irksome. The way water dribbled down your wet suit, your nipples perked as you rushed into his flat begging for something else to wear, Hobie's laughter dying out into that deep, low hum. His band shirt was ruined with the sticky stains of his cum.

"You thinking about it again?" Hobie read the way your eyes glazed over in an instant. His feet thumped onto the floor, swiveling in his chair and parting your legs. He leaned forward, his hands on either side of your tiny miniskirt. Your eyes tracked his gloved fingers peeking underneath your skirt. Not to pull down your thin panties, but caress small, consoling circles. "Yeah. You are. We just fucked. You're insatiable, wifey. You wet already? Want me again?"

"Hobie," you breathed. "What if he don't come tomorrow?"

"Then he don't," Hobie outstretched his finger, rubbing your soft chin to look up. "You don't need that wasteman."

"I got you?" you slid your fingers down to his slender palm, gliding over the tops of his knuckles. Hobie's lip pulled into a one-sided smirk, nodding to the side.

"Yeah, you got me."

By the time Hobie left, all thoughts of Miguel were non-existent. Mostly, because Hobie fucked you into exhaustion. You were out cold, strewn among fluffy sheets that wreaked of his musk of cigarettes and the sandalwood oil Pavitr gifted him. Hobie’s scent was here, there, everywhere it shouldn’t be as Miguel slunk into your slightly parted window.

Most offensively, Hobie’s cum was dripping out of your cunt. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. If you wanted him so badly all day, you easily replaced him with Hobie’s dick. He climbed the foot of the bed, watching your face twitch, almost trying to wake up from your sex-fueled haze.

“Mmm,” the small, ineffectual noise caused him to drift his eyes across your silky legs to your lips. There was a gentle pleasure in watching you sleep. He had seen it many times when he crept in the shadows when you were most beautiful. When you were half asleep, your hands draped among fluffy pillows. To be the first sight in the morning, and if possible, the last thing you thought of at night.

If he weren’t so angry with you, you would have been a vision for his sore eyes. His fingertips swerved up and down your inner thigh, curling around until he found your vulva, still swollen and wet from sex with Hobie. Miguel urged his thumb over your swollen clit, zig-zagging along to separate your folds.

As he suspected-- you had fucked him. Miguel urged the cum out of your system with a squeeze of your folds, rolling his fingers along the outer lips. His dilated eyes flickered up, catching a soft sigh in your chest. His fingers breached your wetness, easing the cum free from your body with small sweeps of his fingers.

“Mmm?” you breathed. His fingers slipped away, dragging your hips to his waiting mouth. Caked in the allure of sleep, your moan went without a response. Miguel’s pink tongue separated your folds, small mincing suckles coursing from your entrance to weave around your folds, deliberately avoiding your waiting clitoris.

"Who's it?" The pressure caused your lids to spread apart, lifting your hand from the lush silk pillow under your head to the top of his head. His tongue languidly coursed back down, poking at your entrance. The coziness of your sleep faded away. You dropped a hand to the top of his head to run through his thick dark brown hair, his sharp eyes flicking up to meet yours. Miguel could definitely have been a dream, but he wasn't.

“Miggy… I missed you,” you complained, reaching for the soft pink strawberry he won you once upon a time at a carnival. You had to beg, and beg, and blow his cock under his desk to get him to go. You looked so damn cute. Innocent. You were neither. “You should have come earlier--”

“To see you fuck Hobie?” he blew warm air against your cunt. Your hips shuttered against his face, thighs knocking his sharp cheekbones.

"You're still mad at me." This time, shame surely caught in your chest, a tremor of mean pleasure was minced with the pain of letting Miguel down. He knew it did. You wouldn't look him in the eye again but gripped the comforting strawberry a little harder.

“Considering you fucked him after we spoke, it’ll stay that way.” Miguel rose his hand to caress the outside folds as he worked, slurping the inner ones between his lips. You winced when his wet finger slid inside your hole. It squished obscenely, hungry and wet for his touch after such a tiresome day of longing.

“It’s-- it’s still sensitive.”

“I don’t care. You lied to me.” A brief glance at any watch would reveal that you’d barely slept at all. Miguel wouldn’t let you have rest, not if he could hold you accountable for your games with his heart and dick. His lush lips closed over your clit, flickering and sucking sloppily, drawing shocks of pleasure down your spine. You dug the heel of your palm into the sheets, struggling to slide out from under him. It was too much to wake up to after a fuck with Hobie who, from his files, apparently just loved to edge you.

"No, you don't. Come here." Miguel lurched his arm around your waist, dragging you back onto his face. Ah! Your hand shot to his forearm, battling out with his upper body strength to push him off. You couldn’t. Miguel was too strong. He was going to make you cum.

Pressure welled up in your stomach, forming a blinding burst of pleasure that threatened to let go. You knew it was coming. You knew there was nothing you could do about it but let him force another orgasm out of your cunt, twirling his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. In place of a sweet, soothing orgasm, hard pleasure ripped down your spine. It nearly hurt, forced out by his flicking tongue. Your legs tremored around his head, cupping him in place until you couldn’t give him any more of your sweet love.

“Miguel, Miguel please--” Warm tears pricked your cheeks, sliding down to your jaw. He kept his eye on you. Your skin was warm, mind dizzy, wracked with his complaints. “I didn't mean to lie to you. I promise. You-- you never asked.”

“Shut up,” Miguel forced your hips off his face with a sharp shove. Your hips bounced on the bed, a broken cry slipping from your lips at his abuse. He came for one thing, one thing only, and fuck more foreplay. Somedays he had the temperament for it. Today, with your daring admission that you had been fucking Hobie, he had none. "I don't want more pretty lies."

"They aren't lies," you bit out, scrambling underneath him, legs tightening shut. You just needed a moment to explain-- and if holding sex back would do it, you'd try. Miguel pulled himself free of his suit and pulled you back into place. Overstimulated tears pricked your eyes, "Miggy please-- Not yet--"

He looked down at you, eyes unfeeling, unreceptive to your pleas. His cock bobbed over the top of your vulva, thick and hard, dribbling with anticipation to replace Hobie’s cum with his. You bit hard on your lower lip, sucking your tongue over the loose cuts. “If you would have asked--”

“Since you’re so insatiable, you’re going to take this dick next,” Miguel gave a few lax jerks at the base, lining up his cock with your tense entrance. He felt you clench your walls, some piteous attempt to keep him out, to allow you to explain.

“I'm still sensitive, Miggy, please. Slow down, you're too big--”

“Think about this next time you fuck that punk.”

Despite your protests, Miguel pushed the head of his cock into your entrance. A moan wracked free from your lips. He knew it was your favorite part, the way he split you wide on his cock, pulling your walls apart. He bottomed out balls deep in your cunt, finally looking so full-- so full of Miguel after a long, arduous day of teasing him for just this. Your hand came to your stomach, buried so deep you swore you could feel him in your guts. Your lashes fluttered, recognizing that this Miguel-- this Miguel wasn’t the man you knew. Not the one who was cold out there, patient in your bedroom. Something snapped. You cracked him.

“¡Ay!” you exclaimed, then clamped your mouth shut. He wasn't going to accept any complaints. Miguel’s hands clasped over your lower ribs, the slide of tears down your soft cheeks biting your skin raw. “Miggy, Miggy.”

“After all that teasing today, you can’t take my dick?”

“You’re too-- you’re too thick.”

“Tragedy, you’ll have to take me anyway,” he mocked, sliding his forearm underneath your head to keep you stable. Your skin prickled, wanting to believe the closeness he forced was as much for you as him. Your hands came to his chest, bundling up his suit between your fingertips. You needed something to anchor to. Your legs bobbed around his hips as he drew his smooth thrusts into you. Long, punctuated sweeps of his cock filled the deepest parts of your body over and over, stretching your sweet cunt full of him. “What? Am I not enough?”

“No, you are! I just, I love him--” your legs pathetically clung to his hips, trying to force Miguel’s full, sweeping thrusts to slow. Between the two men, you would be sore the next morning. Love him-- the words earned an intensity of his thrusts that you could only try to slow down by squeezing your walls around him. All this time he thought it was him, his inability to bend to your every need when you wanted it done. Your whines drifted off, melding into sweet, gentle moans of approval with every deep swipe of his hips knocking into your cervix. Wet, sloppy kisses marked your neck-- and if you weren't mistaken, the soft tickle of his own tears. The sensation of his liquid need, the hiss of his breath, bounced against your neck. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to be.” His other hand jammed between your legs, flicking at your already pulsing clit once again. It hurt how badly you needed it. You pulsed over his dick, a flurry of frantic perdóname slipping free from your lips over and over, a disc stuck on repeat. Miguel’s moans ripped through the room, the desire for air a secondary thought. You never heard him so loud, so enraged, even earlier today.

You came, wet and sweet over his swollen dick, for the second time since he showed up. A fourth since Hobie was here. You couldn't breathe, pinned between his chest and the bed. Your thighs tremored piteously around him, searing with pleasurable heat. You accepted his last frantic thrusts, marked by a sharp grunt. His wet cum spilled into you, hips snapping to your core to ensure you took every last bit of his seed. You buried your head between pillows and his fist under your neck, tightening and loosening. Your head was thumping, sweat cloaking his suit. When Miguel was finally spent, he pulled free, gloops of cum slipping free along with him. He threw you a look, recording the memory of your ruined body in his mind.

“Miguel--” you reached out. Or tried to. He jerked to the edge of your fluffy bed, his hands wrangling sweat out of his long hair.

“Let's stop seeing each other."

Seconds passed before you could articulate the right words, watching his chest rise and fall with the tension. He fit himself back into his suit, throwing a glance over his muscular shoulders when you cried his name. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Only…

“I… I didn’t know you would care.”

He steeled himself to your words from the gentle touch of your fingers on his elbow, trying to reason with him to lay in bed. He wouldn’t. Not this time. You crawled over, trying again. Realistically, you held little hope that he'd let you touch him. Not if he was banishing you from his life. Optimistically, all he could do was throw you off again. You considered yourself lucky that he allowed your arms to slide about his waist and press your breasts against his rising and falling back.

“I did.” But he acted as though he didn't. The words felt small as if they didn't fit in your mouth. He cared. Miguel ran his hand down, then up his head again, exhaling a wilting breath. "Mira… let me go," he sighed, loathing the words on his tongue. He wasn't enough. He knew he wasn't. "I'm in the way."

"In the way? Miguel, you're never in my way."

You couldn't be this dull. Miguel loosened your hands around his waist, glancing toward Hobie's miscellaneous shoes at the foot of your bed. Your intermingled jewelry in ceramic little pots. Maybe he did see it. Maybe he wanted to ignore it, to convince you he was enough. Maybe he was the one that appeared every time you two were alone, not the other way around. And maybe he was the interloper.

"In Hobie's way. You can’t believe that he isn’t jealous.”

“Hobie doesn’t get jealous.”

“You're blind. Everyone gets jealous,” he scoffed. “Even him.”

“Even you?”

That shuts him up. You watched as he pushed himself off the bed, stretching out his neck and heading out your bedroom window. This time, you wouldn’t follow him to the lab, slink into his bed. This time, you knew he wouldn’t come back. It was better, this way, your lives playing out apart from one another. Some lives can't be pieced back together once their web breaks.

#miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #atsv imagine #atsv imagines #atsv x you #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse imagines #across the spiderverse imagine #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #atsv miguel imagine #miguel o'hara/reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel x you #miguel o’hara angst

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

honestly i just have dbf!santi brainrot.

Precious Girl.

oh my GOOOOOOD everyone knows I see the words dad's best friend and go fuckin feral. thank you for this.

warnings - smut. cursing.

Masterlist. Inbox.

You're sat on a bench in the dark when he walks past.

"Santi?" you ask, squinting to see him.

"Hermosa?"

He stops and sits down next to you, his warmth instantly seeping into your skin where his arm brushes yours.

"What are you doing sat out here? It's 2am and pitch black."

You chew at your lip, playing with the rings on your fingers.

"I had a date. It was bad, so I left. Realised I didn't know where I was, so I sat down here to try and call an Uber or something."

"What do you mean, bad?"

"I don't know. He was cocky. Patronising. Immature. I don't have the energy for boys anymore, Santi."

He chuckles, deep and knowing.

"At least you know what you want, hermosa. I admire that."

"What I want doesn't fucking exist," you laugh. "Think I'll just give up."

"I know you. You've never been a quitter."

You exhale slowly.

"I hate that you're right."

A pause.

"What are you doing walking around in the dark at this time of night, Garcia?"

"Met some old college buddies at that Irish bar."

"Did my Dad go?"

"Yeah. We parked in separate places, so I was just walking back to my car. He left just before me."

"He loves those guys."

"I do too," he smiles.

You both sit for a moment, thinking. Santiago nudges your shoulder with his gently.

"Let's get out of here, hmm? I'll drive you home."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I know you love my heated seats, so..."

"It's true," you laugh. "They're the height of luxury, Santi."

"That car was my mid life crisis."

"There are worse things it could have been. Thank God it wasn't gambling. Or prostitutes."

He laughs, throwing his head back and knocking his body into your side.

"None of that shit. Just a nice car with heated seats."

"What more could you want?"

"Exactly."

He grabs your hand, pulling you up with him.

"Let's go home, hermosa."

Santi walks you back to his car, only ten minutes down the road. When you reach it, he reaches past you and grabs the handle on the passenger side to open the door for you. He leans in close, his nose brushing yours. Your breath hitches in your chest, not daring to move.

You don't know who moves first, but all of a sudden his lips are on yours, pressing you up against the car. You're moaning into his mouth, tangling your fingers into his salt and pepper hair, desperate to get as close to him as possible.

Santi's hands dance from your hips to the hem of your skirt and underneath. He pulls your underwear to the side and runs his fingers through your wet heat, groaning.

"Fuck, baby. This all for me?"

When you nod frantically, he smirks.

"Fucking filthy. Getting all worked up for your dad's best friend. What would they say if they knew, huh? If they saw their precious girl getting fingered in a parking lot..."

He trails off as he sinks two fingers into you, his other hand holding an iron grip on your hip to keep you still. His thumb finds your clit effortlessly, the ease of it making you moan.

"Think it's time you expand your horizons, cariño. No more boys from now on, yeah?"

You're babbling, agreeing mindlessly, willing to say anything to get what you want.

"You look so gorgeous like this. It's nice to see your attitude in check for a change."

You kiss him again to shut him up, practically begging him to be quiet. As much as his teasing gets under your skin, he's right. This was exactly what you needed.

"Close, baby? Can feel you squeezin' me. Like a fuckin' vice."

You grip at his jacket and pull him into you, resting your forehead on his chest to try and anchor yourself. When he leans down and sucks into the spot under your ear, you're done for.

You find your release embarrassingly quickly, boneless and shaking. Santi talks you through it, murmuring sweetness into your hair.

You pull away and rest against the car, catching your breath. Santi steals a kiss cheekily before smoothing down your skirt and brushing the creases from your shirt.

"Good?"

"Good," you giggle. "Very good."

"Let's get you home, huh?"

He leans past you to open your door, lips brushing your ear.

"My home. I'm not done with you yet, hermosa."

The anticipation makes you shiver.

#santiago garcia fic #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia imagine #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia smut #santiago garcia #santiago garcia fluff #santiago garcia x reader smut #dadsbestfriend!santiago garcia #dbf!santiago garcia #dbf!santi #dbf!santi smut #dad's best friend santiago garcia #dbf!santiago garcia smut #triple frontier smut #triple frontier x reader smut #triple frontier x reader #dadsbestfriend!santiago garcia smut

[daydreamgoddess14]

Hot Water

MASTERLIST

Roy Kent xF!Reader

5 Times Roy Kent ends up on your doorstep even though you know it can't keep happening.

~~~

I feel like this was dragged from me kicking and screaming. It started out just a little smutty one shot and now it's a slightly longer one. I do hope you like it, I'm not sure I do but hey ho, there's always the next one! 🙃

~~~

Well. This was really fucking inconvenient. 

You’re literally laying on the bathroom floor. Underneath the fucking bath. Something, somewhere, somehow has sprung a leak and you’re resolved to fix it. You’ve even got your dad’s old toolkit out in the hope that wielding a tool might help. It hasn’t so far. It doesn’t help that you know approximately zero about plumbing. This is all just capping off a pretty fantastically awful couple of months to be honest. And although it’s a work day, and therefore your biggest problem is at the forefront of your mind, you’re going to have to forget the main reason behind your shitty time recently. Because this leak ain’t going to fix itself. You’re doing a masterful job so far - real professional. You’ve remembered to turn the stopcock off which is a big bonus. You nearly broke your hand doing it, but it’s done. You give your spanner an experimental jiggle over what looks like a loose nut, but as you do so, a spider runs over your hand. That little fucker is the catalyst for everything else. You squeal and pull your hand back, whacking first the pipe and then dropping the spanner onto your forehead. Whacking the pipe leads to the spider's little spider buddies coming out to find him, and you soon have one on its way up your arm and one in your hair. All limbs and spanner and spiders, you’re dragging yourself out from under the bath and shaking the little bastards off. Crying, of course, because what else are you meant to do when there are 3 spiders on you and you’ve just hit yourself in the face with a metal tool? 

It’s already 7am, you need to be getting ready for work so there’s nothing else for it, you can shower at work. Luckily, luckily , if you head out now you should be early enough that you’d be alone there. The lads won’t be there til 9am anyway, so it’s only the staff and possibly coaches who might be there any earlier. The showers should be free. You try and give yourself a spider once over, throw on a pair of joggers and a jumper over your PJ shorts set and shove half your life in a bag. You’re only a 10 minute walk from Nelson Road so you don’t bother driving. You head straight in through the side door and shout hello to the cleaner who’s at the top of the stairs to Rebecca’s office. Passed the locker room, and into the depths between the gym and the training pitch are the showers. You put your bag on the bench and pull out a towel and some Richmond kit to wear afterwards. As one of two sports massage therapists for the team, you live in joggers and Richmond vests. Boring but functional. You’ve seen no one, heard no one, but you’re still not keen on the idea of stripping off in a men's shower room so you’re absolutely keeping the knickers on. One less area to have to cover up. You hang up the stuff you need, put away the under bath grimy stuff you’ve just taken off, and switch the shower on. Colin was not wrong about that water pressure. You’re OK. It's OK. This was the right thing to do. A scalding shower with pressure hard enough to feel like you’re being clapped on the back by The Rock sounds like bliss. While the shower heats up, you strip off (except the knickers, of course) and grab your shampoo. That little bastard spider is not leaving babies in your hair. No fucking way. As a second thought just before you get under the water spray, you switch Spotify on your phone so you can drown to the angry sounds of Olivia Rodrigo. You’re getting pretty good at the speed on Good 4 U, though sometimes scream singing it does leave you feeling like you’ve run a marathon. You’re better at the unhinged wail you can really give to ‘bloodsucker, famefucker’ on Vampire, it just hits different at the moment. The hot water hits your body and you finally relax. 

 

~~~~~~

 

You wish you weren’t so outwardly affected. It was always going to go this way, you could have done more to protect your heart though - it would have saved you looking so foolish, and it would have saved a ruined friendship. That was the hardest part to deal with. You’d joined the staff under Ted Lasso and had built a great rapport with the players and the coaching staff. You considered them friends - all of them. Sure, you harboured a pretty big crush on Roy Kent, but it didn’t affect your work. You ignored those feelings, trampled over them and focused on getting on with your job. Notoriously slow to win over, he eventually became as good a friend as everyone else. The night of the West Ham game was insane. Ted was leaving, everyone was bouncing between elation over finishing second in the league and the prospects that would bring, and losing Ted. There were tears of joy and laughter one minute and tears of devastation the next. Ola’s could barely contain the emotion everyone was feeling. You’d decided to hit the road, everything was winding down anyway and the players were going on to an exclusive club which they’d invited you to as well - and you knew full well you wouldn’t have to buy a drink all night, they’d never let you do that when it was £25 for a double gin, but you didn’t want to carry the party on. You’d kissed whoever you could reach, hugged as many as you could see and air high-fived Sam from across the way. You stepped out into the late May night, it was still warm so you lingered outside with your drink while you waited for the taxi. 

“Oi, how come I didn’t fucking get one?” Roy asked, stepping out to join you by the window.

“Hey, you going to the club? Get what?” 

“A hug.” He nudged your shoulder.

“That’s my taxi. You always get a hug.” You slipped your arm across his back and leaned up a little to reach him better. “See you Monday.”

“You can’t go back in a taxi on your own?”

“Course I can, I always do.” You laughed, pulling open the door. He held it open while you sat in the backseat and slipped in after you.

“C’mon, I’ll make sure it gets you back ok.” You haven’t moved quite far enough along the seat so as the taxi driver rounds each corner, you're pushed further into Roy. “So everyone else gets hugs and kisses eh?”

“Only the people I could reach. Also, you just had a hug, stop complaining.” Another corner taken at a higher speed than necessary smushed you into his side. “Jesus, is this guy ready to finish or something.” He put a hand on your thigh,

“You ok?”

“Yeah fine.” The heat of his hand lit up your skin, the addition of far too many drinks made you feel flushed. You both looked at his hand on your leg and then back to each other, the streetlights illuminating you both and then sending you into darkness again. You didn’t know if it was an unconscious move or deliberate, but his thumb brushed gently in small circles on your bare skin. You’re sure he must be able to see your heart pounding through your dress. As he leans forward into you, his hand moves up just another inch and as you gasp at the sensation, he lightly kisses you.

“Here we are. That's a tenner please, love.” Roy goes for his wallet but you push his hand out of the way and hand the driver a note from your bag. He has to open the door to let you out, “you coming back in, fella?” the driver asks. He looks down at the hand which he held out to help you from the taxi to find he’s still holding it.

“No thanks, mate.” You’ve barely got the front door closed behind you before he’s pushed you up against it and kissing you with a fierceness you hadn't realised you were so desperate for. Your hands worked fast, pushing his jacket down his arms and onto the floor with a thud, and pulling him back to you by his t-shirt. The dress Keeley suggested for you is flattering, but a little more revealing than you’d usually wear. Shorter than you’d normally go for and with a low neckline too. He’s got one hand up in your hair and the other is back on your leg, halfway up the skirt while he kisses your jawline. His body presses against you and you can feel him, hard through his jeans. You bring up the leg he’s got a hand on and he hooks it over his hip, it tilts your lower body further into his and he is so close to where you need him it sends you dizzy. It's impossible to disguise the neediness of your moans and the hand that's up your skirt is moving further up to grip the fleshy soft spot between your hip and thigh. 

"God, Roy -," you whine, you rock your hips towards his,

"Sure you want this?" You nod against his shoulder, "Talk to me, babe," he asks. 

"Yes, yeah I'm sure," you're pulling at his t-shirt, dragging it over his head.

When he mutters "good girl," against your collarbone, you're certain you could come there and then. He traces the line of your knickers with his fingers, feeling just how ready you are for him, "fucking hell," he says, wrecked. He slips his fingers inside you and presses his thumb to your clit. He seems to know exactly what you need and just when you're at the brink, grasping for the release that's just out of reach, he kisses you. It's hot and rough and sends you right over the edge. He gives you a minute, a slightly softer kiss, but you don't need it, you only want him. Your shaking hands fumble with the button of his jeans until he takes over and does it himself, he's dug out a condom from his wallet. You're still fully clothed, still wearing the high heels that, with his help, have you at exactly the right height for him to push into you. It's everything. Everything you've fantasised about since the day you were introduced, he's the only thing that stands out from your first day at the club. In a room full of high-profile, well-paid, gorgeous footballers, he's the only one you see. He thrusts into you using your hips as leverage, the spike of your heel grazing the back of his thigh. Your hands hold fast to the back of his neck and his shoulder, 

"Roy, fuck, you feel so good." Your name is reverent on his lips as he comes and on hearing, you're there too. His pace slows as his hips stutter, and your head rests in the crook of his neck while you catch your breath. All at once, he's gentle again, carefully bringing your leg back down and making sure you're steady on your feet. He looks a little sheepish as he steps back away from you, taking you hands to help you stand up away from the back of the door, 

"You ok?" He asks, while you straighten your dress and pull it back down into place. 

"Yep, all good. You?"

"Yeah, yeah fine." He looked like he couldn't get out of there fast enough, his hesitation and unease rubbing off on you. "I should go though,"

"Yeah, no I figured as much."

"It's just been a fucking long day, y'know?"

"I know. Lots of crazy emotions." He must have seen the look of hurt cross your face, 

"Not that it was a mistake… but maybe, probably shouldn't have happened? Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a fucking dick-,"

"I get it Roy. It was fun but it didn't mean anything." It didn't mean anything . Probably the biggest lie you've ever told and it's out of your mouth like you knew it had to be said all along. 

 

~~~~~~~~

 

On Monday morning, you were all notified that Roy would be named as the new head coach for Richmond. He obviously knew beforehand, so within 36 hours you'd gone from sleeping with a colleague to sleeping with your boss, and the sudden distance and desperation to get out of your flat became clear. Along with the knowledge that it definitely could not happen again. Not that he gave the impression that he wanted it to. The following week, you took yourself on holiday for a week with some of the team and friends, just a big villa and a private beach in southern Spain. You'd relaxed, eaten your weight in fresh seafood, and consumed more sangria than you should have. All week, Instagram was full of you and your sunkissed friends having a whale of a time. You returned feeling better about yourself and ready for a few easy admin weeks before the start of the season. And then Roy had shown up at your door. 

"Nice holiday?"

"Not bad… can I help you?" You're on your guard, holding the door closed against you. 

"Right. Thought I should check in, see how you are?" 

"As my boss, or?"

"Can I fucking come in or not?" You hold the door open but keep your arm in the way, childishly making him duck to get through. "Did the lads behave?" He asked from your kitchen. 

"Oh yeah. I slept with Jan in the pool, Richard on the beach and shared a bed with Moe and Tommy all week."

"Fucking funny," he didn't look amused. 

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" He did a momentary double take. "Course I'm joking. Bad enough that I've fucked the boss, isn't it? Jesus if word got around I might as well quit."

"Don't say that." He growled. 

"True though isn't it? You knew, and that's why you left in such a hurry. Quick and dirty. What was it? You'd wondered what it would be like, so thought you might as well give it a go before you started the top job?" He didn't say anything. "And now you're worried that I've been off having too much fun with one of the lads? Like you have any say whatsoever?"

"No. Fuck no. You can do whatever you want."

"I know."

"See whoever you want."

"I know."

"Will you stop arguing with me on this?"

"I'm agreeing with you. Boss." Somehow, you'd managed to square up to each other like you were about to hit him. It was still a reasonably high possibility until he closed the gap and kissed you. Horny traitor that it is, your body gives in immediately. "We shouldn't do this again," you hiss as he bites your shoulder. 

"So tell me to fucking stop." He grabs at your loose sleep vest and pulls it off, surprised to find you don't wear anything underneath. "And if you really do want me to stop, then you'd better tell me right fucking now." Instead, you walk him back a step to the sofa and push him to sit down. As soon as he does, you straddle him. 

"Do not fucking stop." You warn him, pulling off his t-shirt. It's the same needy, desperate and hot sex that you'd both craved last time, at least this time you already know that it shouldn't be happening. The difference is that it makes it even more intense. He does the same disappearing act as last time, leaving you doubting your life choices and questioning your sanity. 

 

~~~~~~~~

 

It happens again the next week. With so many people on holiday, Keeley organises a karaoke night for those who are around. It's lairy and a lot of fun, you sing a few songs including a duet with Nate. Soon, the challenge becomes choosing songs for other people. You can't even place the song Keeley has picked for you until the music kicks in, it's not until you're singing it and reading the lyrics that you realise how apt they are. 

"I'm yours to keep

And I'm yours to lose

You know I'm not a bad girl

But I do bad things with you

So it goes

Come here, dressed in black now

So, so, so it goes

Scratches down your back now

So, so, so it goes"

 

You catch his eye as you're singing without meaning to, and it's like lighting a fire in your belly. You know it's going to happen again. You still don't make it to a bedroom. Instead, you get to your knees for him just inside your flat and this time he's the one sounding needy and desperate. You've never heard Roy Kent of all people sound so wrecked and affected. Ever giving, he's utterly confused when you reject him afterwards and send him home without letting him touch you at all. 

 

It's this which brought him back to your door the last time, just over a month ago. You've been in a bit of a downward spiral ever since. It had been over a week since the karaoke night. Pre season training was due to start and you knew you'd be busy with rusty footballers who tried to rush their first decent stretch in weeks. You were exhausted after the first day back, your hands ached and you'd half forgotten what it was like to be on your feet all day. You're yawning your way through a takeout menu when the door goes. Once again, Roy is on your doorstep, but this time he has a bag of food with him. He brushes straight past you and into the kitchen where he manages to plate up two meals despite not knowing where anything is kept and you becoming mute. 

"Why are you here?" You mumble.

"I saw the appointment list for today. Thought you'd be fucking knackered." Once you’ve finished eating, he leads you to your own bedroom where he sits you on the bed. "This ok," he asks. 

You nod first, then follow up with a hushed, "Yes." He undresses you slowly, taking his time in a way he hasn't any of the other times before. He lays you back on the bed and settles between your thighs, you're in pieces even before you feel the wet slide of his tongue against your clit. He holds you down with one hand as you cant your hips towards him with a whispered "fuckkk," he gives your thigh a bite,

"Hold fucking still," you can feel him smirk against you. It doesn't take much for him to have your legs shaking, your hands are in his hair, dragging through the curls that have grown out over the summer break. You practically wail his name as you come, and if you've learned anything from the hurried, rough trysts you've had so far with Roy, it's that you definitely weren't prepared for the time he actually gets to take his time with you. He's watching you come down, boneless from your first orgasm, letting you think he's done with you before he goes back for more. By the time he's crawling back up the bed to you, the need to have his skin against yours is sinful. You can barely form full sentences, speaking only in single word requests, "clothes, more, now". He laughs, a low rumble that you feel against your ribs. He's equally as eloquent, but out to take an agonisingly long time with you. He pushes into you in long, slow strokes, his whole body weighted against yours. The closeness is both intense and intimate, and when he kisses you it feels so much like a promise your heart could break. Unlike the previous times, you don't part immediately while you both catch your breath. He shifts off you slightly but stays with his nose against your jaw and his hands coveting your body. He's the first one to say it. 

"This can't keep happening."

"We both keep saying that and yet here we are again." You sit up against the headboard, mindful to cover yourself up. 

"I know."

"But, you're right, we can't." You decide you need to be firmer, "I can't keep doing this." He nods and gets up to dress. 

"I'm sorry." He mutters as he leaves. 

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Roy is always consistently early for work. A byproduct of being awake at stupid o’clock to train Jamie, yes, but before that, he’s just always been early. Now he’s head coach, he uses the time to get the coffee going or makes sure Will is on top of everything in the boot room. Has a wander around and checks the gym or the showers for lonely socks, earbud boxes, or hats. More recently, he's just sat at his desk and moped for an extra half hour before anyone arrives and calls him out on it. Today, though, he puts the coffee on and starts in the gym where he straight away finds Isaac’s favourite sweatbands, Moe’s sunglasses, and one of Dani’s socks. It’s like picking up after a bunch of fucking kids. He dumps the loot in the middle of the locker room and carries on. He can hear singing as he gets closer to the showers and assumes that Jamie must have chosen food over cleanliness and has decided to save time by coming straight to Nelson Road after breakfast. 

 

“Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doing great out there without me, baby

Like a damn sociopath!

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night crying on the floor of my bathroom

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

But I guess good for you”

 

Yeah. That's not Jamie. But it's already too late, he'd been rounding the corner as he'd heard the singing and now, well… thank fuck you've got your back to him. He tries to back out of the room, but manages to crash into the bench and sends your phone crashing to the tiles, the music stopping abruptly. The noise has you covering as much of your body with your hands as you can while you scream like a banshee, the sound echoes off the tiles, and what the hell is the lump on your head?! 

"Roy! Fuck me, turn around!" His brain manages to click into gear enough to let him do that at least, but then it goes manic on what he's just seen. Or not seen really, his memory fills in the blanks though. "Fucksake what the hell are you doing?” You’re shaking, he can hear it in your voice. He truly scared the shit out of you. “I need to finish washing my hair, can you be trusted for 5 fucking minutes if I move my hands?" You ask, a little calmer.

"I heard singing, thought it was one of the lads."

"Oh so jumping them in the shower is also fine? Don't move. I'm nearly done. Ouch, cocking shitting fuck." Your voice catches and he thinks you might be crying.

"Jesus, are you alright? I've never heard you swear like that."

"I'm fine," you reply quietly. "Hit my head." He turned quickly, too quickly for you to cover back up, "Oi!" His eyes initially went exactly where you’d expect, then they flew up to yours and didn't move, but it didn’t stop you covering yourself up with your hands again.

"Sorry, sorry, I-" he crossed the room and brought a hand up to your temple which was sporting a painful looking purple bruise. “Was it me, did you hit your head when I came in?” You shake your head with a grimace,

“No, it’s been a fucking awful morning. I just-,” he’s close enough now that he’s going to be right under the shower head in a minute, and he can see that you are close to tears. “You’re gonna get soaked. Could you just go away please?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he goes back to the bench and retrieves your phone from the floor. He has the good grace to look ashamed that the screen is smashed to bits. “Fuck, sorry.” he kicks off his sneakers and turns back to you, “turn around.”

“No, I want to be left alone. Let’s not pretend you give a shit, Roy. Just go.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. This is getting stupid.

“Of course I fucking give a shit. Please. Turn. Around. You’ve hit your head, you’re freezing cold, you-”

“Fine.” You glare, “fine.” You turn to face the wall, no idea why. It becomes clear as he comes to stand right behind you, under the stream of water.

“Head back.” You lean your head back as he asks. His height over you means he has a direct line of sight down your body so you keep your hands in place as he washes the shampoo out of your hair. He avoids the lump in your hairline far better than you did, and now you’re back under the water, you’re warming up a bit. He takes his time, and as you close your eyes, his are drawn to the path the droplets of water follow over your skin, like memories of where his mouth had been. “Did you need to do anything else?” he asks softly. You shake your head, moving your hands and arms so you can still cover yourself but also bring a hand to cover your face, trying not to cry. He reaches past you to turn the shower off. He moves away but he’s only gone long enough to get your towel from the hook. He holds it out for you and turns his head so you can move your arms and step into it. Then he leads you to the bench and pushes your shoulders gently to sit you down. He disappears and comes back a couple of minutes later with a towel for himself and another smaller one which he passes you for your hair. You use it to blot the majority of the water out of your hair, breathing in the soothing lavender softeners Will uses. He’s busy watching you but you’re staring at the floor. With your hair a little dryer, he brushes his fingers through it to move it away from the bruise and take a better look. “That looks really fucking nasty. What did you do?”

“Spanner.” You mumble. He’s not speaking so you know he’s waiting for you to elaborate. “I have a leak under the bath I was trying to fix. A spider scared me so I hit the spanner off my head while I was trying to get out and then there were like three other spiders all over me and I fucking hate spiders and… I just feel like shit.” Saying it all out loud, you realise it all sounds a bit feeble, that you’ve overreacted. 

“Get dressed before you get a cold. I’ll be back in a minute. I’ll shout this time before I come in.”

 

~~~~~~

 

You don’t rush. You sit for a minute and try to gather your thoughts. Of all the people in the entire club, he was the one you’d least want to see you half naked in the shower. He’d have probably been top of the list only a month ago. You’re not even sure by this point what he actually did see, but it’s also too late to care now. It’s done so there’s no undoing it. And it's not like he hasn’t seen it all before anyway. You dry off and pull on your sweats, you’re just reaching for your Richmond t-shirt when he calls out to let you know he’s on his way back. He’s been to get changed, 

“I’m fine, you might as well get back to work. Everyone will be here in a minute.” He goes to challenge you again but you just don’t have the energy. You haven’t even had a coffee yet this morning, let alone breakfast. “Please, Roy. I’m fine.” You throw your wet towel in your bag and check you’ve got everything before squeezing past him and back up to the treatment room. You avoid everyone all morning, Katie offers to go outside for training so you can stay in. She goes out just before 10am, meeting Nate in the corridor. You have to pop to the main office to sign for a delivery and when you get back, there’s a mug of coffee and a paper bag with a pastry inside on your desk, along with some painkillers. The rest of the day seems to settle down. You work your way through the list of players who need some time with you. Jan Maas is last on the list with a niggle he picked up in training that morning. You’ve got your hands high up on the back of his thigh when Roy taps on the door,

“Hey coach.” Jan mumbles from face down on the treatment bench. You manage to get your thumb right where he needs it and he lets out a low groan. Roy raises an eyebrow,

“Alright Jan. You good?”

“Yes, she’s a genius” He hops up from the bench with a big smile. “You should let me buy you a drink, to say thank you.” 

“I’m fine thanks, Jan. Take it easy on your leg.” When he leaves, Roy moves to sit on the bench. He takes your wrist as you walk by him, pulling you to stand in front of him where he can check your forehead again. 

"How's it feel?"

"Like I hit myself in the head with a spanner."

"Are you done?"

"For the day or generally? Because the answer is yes to both. I'm going home. I need to… not be here." Not be around you . Is the follow up you'd like to add. I can't ignore it like you can, can't just pretend I don't feel the way I do. It’s getting harder every day. 

"I think you have a concussion. I'm pretty fucking sure you didn't want to vocalise those thoughts?" You go to slap your hand to your head, but he stops you just in time. "Don't make it any fucking worse." He rolls his eyes when you glare at him. The off season was so much easier. The need for contact between you both has steadily increased over the last month with the team returning. Daily meetings and progress reports on injuries old and new, the only saving grace is that he's stopped coming to you for his own recovery sessions.

"I'm going home." 

"Let me drive you."

"I'd really rather you didn't. Look, I'll be fine. I'll get over it, I just need to do it in my own time." You don't wait for a response. You take your bag and leave him sitting on the treatment bench alone. 

 

The first thing you do is fix the leak. It would be much easier if you were in the right frame of mind, which you're not, but you manage. There are no more spiders, but you end up soaked from the water left in the pipe which bursts out when you loosen rather than tighten the nut. You really don't know whether to laugh or cry from the calamity of it all. You're about to go for cry, but the doorbell goes and you're surprisingly unsurprised to see Roy. Again. 

"You know, it would be a lot easier for me to get over whatever this," you motion between the two of you, "is, if you could just fuck off and leave me to it?"

"Can I come in?" You turn to let him in, looking expectantly for him to continue. His hand rubs his beard and up through his hair, cut shorter since the last time he was in your flat - the curls gone. "Fucksake. You act like this is easy for me."

"Well you make it seem like it is." 

"It's not. It never fucking has been. Why do you think I kept coming back even though I knew, I knew it was a bad fucking idea?"

"You tell me? You're the one who walks out of here without a care in the world once you've got what you want?" A look of hurt flashed across his face, you knew it was a low blow, you had no idea why you'd even said it. 

"Is that really what you think?" He asked quietly. You shook your head. "All this coaching job has done so far is make me fucking miserable."

"It's only been a couple of months. You'll figure it out."

"It's making me miserable because I lost you in the process. You said earlier that I shouldn't pretend to care, but I don't need to pretend. I do care. Too much, that's the fucking problem." He sighed heavily.

" We can't keep happening, you're my boss now."

"Well, I've been feeling like this a lot longer than I've been your fucking boss, and I don't regret any of it."

"Feeling what, exactly? Because if you're about to fuck up your future-"

"I love you." You close your eyes. Your head is pounding again.

"Roy, think about what you're doing -"

"Tell me you don't feel the same, and I'll go." You shake your head,

"I can't," you whisper. "I can't. I'm in love with you too." He crosses the room and cups your cheek, checking the bruise on your forehead again before he kisses you. You sigh into him, "What are we going to do?"

"I'm the boss. As long as I'm not fucking you in the treatment room, I think it'll be OK." 

"That's a shame. Not even after hours?"

"Don't tempt me. Any objections to me waking you up every couple of hours to check you really don't have a concussion?"

"Depends how you plan to wake me?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something." He smiles, letting you lead him to the bedroom. 

 

~~~~~~

FIN

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fic #roy kent fluff #roy kent smut #roy kent x you #roy kent imagine

[thewriterg]

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐀𝐛𝐜𝐬

pairing(s);hobie brown x fem!reader, hobie brown x male!reader

summary; you see the title!

word count; around 2k

warning(s); everyone mentioned is 19+, smut.

A/n;—GIFs; @cowboysfuck— The debates going down with the age of everyone in atsv has me shaking in my boots so just know Hobie is a good and legal yummy adult in this 💀

🕷️Aftercare

Being completely and totally honest, babe he’s not cleaning you up.

I know the truth hurts but we have to stop the lies :(

If you meet him at one of his sets or the pub something like that? He’s viewing it as a quick fuck

He’s. A. Whore.

I mean we all seen that slutty ass waist right!?

He’s ran through! 😔

but I’m gonna feed into just a little 🤏🏽

If you happen to be in a relationship/fuck buddies he’s definitely a little more caring

After you both finish hes spooning you pawing his loads back in your cunt when it begins to seep out while lying kisses and bites up you shoulder that will darken by sunrise

Or you’re on top of him your cock slightly twitching inside of him acting as a plug so none of your cum is leaving him hes definitely panting feeling so full of you you as your head rest in the crook of his neck him rubbing his palm over your head down the nape of your neck

He’ll throw the blankets over you both maybe give you some water from the water bottle that sat on his nightstand for a week

🕷️Body Part

Hobies favorite part of you isn’t a body part but your beliefs!

Everyone’s entitled to their own opinions he supports that much BUT

If you can have your own opinion and stand on it!!?

like could see the opposing sides argument take it into consideration and still go to war for your own personal value

On his knees.

He’s that one viral sound where’s its like;

“And I’ll be there for them. With open arms, open legs, and a open mouth 🙂”

Is definitely dropping to his knees to give you head in the next fifteen minutes no matter where

The wrap up of todays lesson he’s just not into shallow people

His favorite part of himself however is his hands more specifically his fingers

If he need to learn a faster tempo place for a song he’s trying to learn you’re going to be his study buddy

“You’re helpin’ me so much thanks lovie” He muttered his index and middle fingers working at a god like pace in and out of your holes beginning to work you up to three as you tried to blink the dots out of your vision moaning at a pitch

He finally got down the song <3

🕷️Cum

Anywhere on your body where he can visibly see

For my girls he’s definitely going for the boobs he’s a tittie man!

For the guys he’s still going for your chest/stomach area

Cum on his face!

Soon there will not be a drop left

hes gonna be that “I eat it all” cat meme

“Gonna c-cum on you’re pretty fucking face, you fucking s-slut” You’re groaning while he’s looking up at you with his big puppy eyes your clit bumping against his nose or when his mouth finally reaches the base of your angry cock whining against the length massaging your balls while being hard as a rock himself a puddle of pre cum resting on his abs

🕷️Dirty Secret

#1

HES A SWITCH.

Goes perfectly with the whole not believing in consistency

I can’t picture Hobie sticking to one roll anyway 💀

I will gladly die on that hill alone if I have to I don’t care.

One day he’s bending you over in a alleyway forcing your hands on a brick wall muttering about how much of a fucking whore you are for dressing in that wife beater your nipple poking through the thin fabric and getting him hard

Next day he’s pathetically humping your loafer/heel under your desk while you have a meeting on your laptop above muffling his loud whine against your leg before you feel his tears on your leg when you shrug your foot away from his aching cock ruining his orgasm

#2

Take this with a grain of salt if you please

But-

You can not sit up here and tell me him and his band members haven’t fucked at least once

This band specifically! Turn down your volume 😟

LIKE!?

that story however is for another day

#3

He has a dick piercing.

A Prince Albert one maybe?

He did it himsel

“Feel tha’ cold ‘ittle bar in your pretty ‘ole?” He would groan pressing down on your abdomen where he can feel himself bottoming out of you before thrusting in deeper than humanly possible grabbing your jaw forcing you to stare into each others soul as he fucks you deep

🕷️Experience

He’s is/was a whore depending on your relationship

He’s ran through, passed around, fucked out.

Loves when you show you’ll always be his best though

“Can’t hear you speak up whore” You hissed wrapping your hand around his neck lifting him up causing his back to arch pleasure painfully as you stop ramming into his hole causing him to whimper as you cock/strap stills in him

“No one f-fucks me like you do, please” He’s whining pathetically moaning in relief when you continue abusing his hole tears slipping past his eyes down to his cheeks

🕷️Favorite position

#1 Missionary!

It’s where either of you can get the deepest

“Look a tha’ feel me in your fuckin’ belly?” He would groan taking one of your hands pressing it against your abdomen as his cock moves in and out of you slowly hitting you spot repeatedly with your ankles crossed against his back

#2 Spooning

Has a lot of lazy mornings of when he’s waking up hard

You happened to already have the same idea 🙀

(#1 somno partaking couple)

Hobie would whimper in his sleep as he felt something warm around his cock and pressure on his lap of you backing up into him wouldn’t wake up until about the third time you’d lower down

In the mornings/where he doesn’t really have a sense on mobility or surrounding is where you’d easily pull the most noises from him

“You feel s-so good, so good birdy”

He’s cumming quick.

🕷️Goofy

Other than like a crack of a smirk?

I’m not really getting a goofy vibe from Hobie

Probably would just tease the fuck out of each other

🕷️Hair

HE HAS A HAPPY TRAIL.

His hair down there is curly and coarse he’ll trim it every once in a while but other than that doesn’t really bother

Most definitely does not give a flying fuck if you decide to shave or not

“Maybe another night ‘bee I didn’t get to shave”

And he’s just like

🤨.

≥))≥

| \_

“Your point?”

🕷️Intimacy

The thought makes him cringe internally

He can get down with it though but it’s mostly saved for important dates like anniversaries, birthdays, achievements, etc.

If you aren’t that intimate of a person that’s even better

But sometimes just take the time out to pull him aside slipping your hands down his jeans and into his boxers gently stroking his cock running your thumb over his slit whispering about how proud you are of him

“You’ve been doing so well I’m so proud of you”

DIHERHBRRIDIN he’s brain dead you murdered his brain into mush

🕷️Jack off

Will when he’s on a mission that takes longer than expected will probably take a video muttering how much he misses you while stroking his aching cock

But something else?

He can be a good boy when he wants

Put a cockring on him tell him if he lasts all day he can get a reward?

Struggling hard asf but will not touch himself cause what’s better than being your good boy!? ‼️🦅

🕷️Kink

Probably almost everything in the damn book but here are his mains

#1; Praise/Degradation

Just the right amount of both driving everyone up the wall

“Look at you takin’ my cock like a fuckin’ champ, that’s wha’ sluts do isn’t that right?” He mutters flash light kissing your skin as he records you on his phone pushing the back of your head down on his dick as you gag around the bask saliva and precum all around your mouth and cheeks

#2; Slapping/Spanking

I’m getting heavy rag doll vibes

Will purposely get you rilled up and jealous before slipping away before you can reach him essentially a game of cat and mouse

when you finally catch him you’re grabbing him by the back of his neck to a bathroom or alleyway

“You wanna be a fucking whore I’ll show you what they get” You hissed and he’s more than aroused as you pull down his trousers him thinking he was about to get the roughest railing/fingering of his life just for you to land a harsh slap on his ass!?

Rock hard.

“Please ‘m sorry, please” Would end up crying cause it hurt yet felt so good

brain was foggy asf

When you deemed it enough for now you pulled his pants back up dragging him back to whatever function you were at ignoring his subtle gestures to get you both back to his side place

You force his ass to go sit tf down somewhere 💪🏽‼️🦅

Smirking like a mf when you watch him subtly groan feeling the distance stinging pain on his ass while trying to get through the conversation

#3; Being/having a cum dump

This is kinda icky for some people and I get it so read with caution ⚠️

Not only is he going to fill you up!? He’s going to plug you up .

Will literally make you go out all day with your cum in him

If you’re a spidey?

Will have your walking around the spider society looking a bit “bloated” little does everyone know you’re literally plugged with Hobies loads

Or when you’re at home will come behind you and rub his palms over your full belly

Feral.

But sometimes he need to be check so switch the roles

How this would happen is, he would talk big shit and place a bet of who was gonna cum first when both of you had a vibrator pressed against your designated places

He lost.

Would definitely try to hit you with that “I don’t believe in loosing 🙄” shit

But

A bet is a bet

And so

For a whole 24 hours both of you having to go on a mission that day he had dildo shoved up his ass

It’s very funny seeing him slightly limp when he walks as the fake cock sits snugly in his ass kissing his prostate at any slight turn or bumb in the road or when he turns the corner too sharply while swinging

by the end of the day HES DEAD.

would definitely do it again

🕷️Location

Boobs.

🕷️Motivation

When you hype yourself up or carry yourself with confidence!?

Hobies like

🗣️ “SIGN ME TF UP!”

Gets off on it so quick

🕷️No

This might be a little controversial and me self projecting but

Do not pull his hair.

His wicks are very delicate and as POC Caribbean native/Black to be specific not a big fan when it comes to messing with our hair

Scratch his back, slap him, spank him, choke him, anything else but pulling his hair.

🕷️Oral

Oral fixation

On some rough nights where he can’t sleep!? His moth will end up on your clit/cock

Is a Cock/Pussy drinker!

Holds down your thighs when you cum and he keeps going to keep you from retreating or bucking your hips

Gives head for his own pleasure tbh

🕷️Place

EVERYWHERE

Will fuck you anywhere and everywhere grinning like the god damn chesire cat

We’re gonna get more into this in ‘Risk’

🕷️Quickie

Absolutely

Behind stage before he goes on will without a doubt have you propped up against something fingering you at an alarming rate

“Gotta make sure my fingers don’t cram up yeah?”

🕷️Risk

What we’ve all been waiting for 🙀

You’ve probably fucked all over London and New York if you’re a spidey person lmao

One of the most jaw dropping places you’ve both had sex was probably the top of an abandoned building as the sun was beginning to set

“See tha’? Almost looks as pretty as you lovie” Hobie muttered thrusting his cock into your hole as your hands grip onto the railing moaning breathlessly before he groans from behind

Then probably an alley

“Shut up before you get us caught, but you would like that wouldn’t you?” You hissed your back pressed against the cold stone wall while Hobie thrusted into you hips bucking occasionally letting out a too loud whine

If you’re a spidey you’re really just talking because your senses would guide you to when someone’s coming or not

Hobie usually is able to sense it to but he’s seems too fucked out to even care

ONCE YALL DID IT IN A POOL BATHROOM!?

“Baby we can’t there’s to many kids around here”

Hobie is the #1 🗣️ “FUCK THEM KIDS” cheerleader

Does not, will not, still can’t not seem to give a single fuc-

🕷️Sext

Yes

You have made him cut band practice short more times he cares to count

‘3 attachments 1 video’ just something to get you through until practice is over <3

IS GETTING TF ON

Coming home to you with a pep in his step

He has and will send you videos of him jerking himself off when either of you are on missions or if you’re at work

“See how fuckin’ hard I am for you birdy? Cock misses you s’much we need you” You can hear his gruff voice cracking behind the camera as he strokes his cock running his thumb over his slit

He will send you whimper audios once every blue moon

anyways both of you guys are yummy!

🕷️Toys

Yes, yes, and yes

I have plenty examples already

So we’re just going to leave this as yes

…

Tbh he has a fuckin VARIETY

Stop I need to go now 😔✋🏽

🕷️Unfair

The biggest fucking tease ever

If you can keep up with him it’s for the greater good if you can’t, you must be left to the wolves 😖

One time you came home from Work/patrol tired as ever and he was on you the minute you were in the door

“Not tonight hon I’m too tired” You muttered taking your shoes off my the door followed along by your jacket etc

“I’ll do the work you can just flop down and star fish it out” You we static at the thought

Just for this mf to deny you at least four time before you fucking lost it flipped positions shoving his face in the mattress all tiredness out the window

“Said you were gonna take fucking care of me but since you wanna be a little whore we’ll see how you like it”

It was a long night

🕷️Volume

Hobie can be very vocal when he wants Mewls, moans, cries, whimpers, whines you name it

He knows his sounds get you off but sometimes he’ll be an asshole brat and keep them from you

But you’ll fix that shit up real quick I believe in you!

🕷️Wild Card

HIM AMD HIS BAND FUCKED/FUCKS.

🕷️X ray

He’s definitely a shower!

7.5 inches 8 when he’s hard

🕷️Yes

Mark him up

Hickeys, hand prints, bruises he needs it all

Does the same for you

Especially if you’re a spidey the bruises won’t stay long with your inhuman abilities

So y’all are running back to each other when they quickly begin to fade

🕷️Zzz

Hobie thinks he’s nocturnal

He’s not sleeping on the normal night so he’s not really sleepy on a intimate one either before he met you

Only time he’s really knocked is if he was in a subier space

Which he’s commonly in

So you’re putting him to sleep one way or another

💌💌💌💌

Oh wow funny seeing you here after two weeks 😅

I have so many drafts of my baby Hobs

Anyway if you could answer the poll down below much would be appreciated!

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brainrot #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #spider punk #spider punk smut #atsv smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #romance #fluff #smut #fem!reader #male!reader #gn!reader #i love you #geegeeisawhoreontherun #thewriterg #2023

[tiniedemon]

— ♡

fuck buddy headcanons, part two

kyle broflovski, stan marsh, kenny mccormick, & clyde donovan

— ♡

as requested, smutty blurbs <3

kyle

you were too damn fine for your own good. kyle was entranced, watching the way your ass bounced in your spandex shorts and the way your tits looked in your white tank top. you weren’t doing anything special — just walking across campus, backpack hung over your shoulders and phone in hand — and kyle wanted you so badly.

he typed out a quick text — ‘meet me in the science wing bathroom, asap’ — and excused himself from his group of friends. the condom in his pocket felt heavy, along with the weight of his cock, as he speed walked to the designated bathroom. you were stood directly outside, smirk on your face as you slumped inside. he followed suit, locking the main door behind him, checking under all the stalls for feet.

then his hand was around your throat and his mouth was on yours, free hand tugging your shorts down past your knees. you kicked them off in a quickness, latching one leg over his hipbone, moans and groans leaving your lips as he sucked a hickey into the skin of your exposed breasts.

“you’re just as tight as i remember,” kyle groaned as he finally pushed into you, the latex condom’s ribbed texture rubbing against your insides sweetly enough to draw a long moan from your throat. his hand covered your mouth, the other holding your leg in place at his rib cage.

it didn’t take him long to cum, and when he did, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, disposed of the used condom, and left the bathroom in a quickness. you smiled to yourself as you redressed, the aching in your legs and between them much too sweet a feeling to perturb you.

stan

“i’m so glad you’ve got the place to yourself,” you breathed, chest heaving as you bounced on stan’s dick. he groaned, hands gripping your ass like no tomorrow, guiding your hips at a quick pace as his mouth left dark bruises over your chest and neck.

“perks of having shitty parents i guess,” he grunted, grabbing a fist full of your hair and tugging your head back, leaving your neck open for his mouth to abuse. you let out a high whine, coming closer with every movement of your hips, tightening around his cock.

he came before you, tightening his hand in your hair as his teeth bit down on your shoulder, fingernails leaving crescents in the smooth skin of your ass. you stilled, smiling down at him, gasping for air.

“you’re so pretty when you cum for me,” you cooed. he rolled his eyes and pulled you close to his chest, arms wrapped around you and dick softening inside you.

“yeah, yeah. wanna watch a movie?”

kenny

you were stoned. absolutely baked. kenny was in the same boat, eyes bloodshot and heavy lidded, fingertips grazing over your thighs in his lap.

“i kind of really wanna eat you out,” he sighed, grinning dopily at you. your stomach flipped and you smiled back at him, body buzzing and head spinning.

“i kind of really want you to,” you responded, through loopy giggles. he was quick to get your pants off, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he sunk down to lay on his stomach between them. you tensed in preparation, high whine leaving your lips as he flattened his tongue against your clit.

you couldn’t help your noises as his tongue flickered against your pussy, hand in his hair and thighs tightening around his head. he gripped onto them with one hand, the other guiding two fingers to your entrance. you came quickly, legs shaking and thighs tight against his head, moaning high pitched as he continued working you through your sensitivity.

kenny worked you through another orgasm before he replaced his fingers with his cock, a low groan leaving his glossy lips as he stretched you out.

“i’m gonna fuck you silly, baby.”

clyde

all of your friends were gathered for movie night, seated all around craig and tweek’s living room, various snacks displayed on a coffee table. the room was dark, the tv playing some movie you didn’t care about. clyde’s hands were massaging your thighs absentmindedly beneath a throw blanket, and you were squirming.

it didn’t help that your bladder was full, your thighs squeezed together and body rocking back and forth. you couldn’t hold it, rising from the floor with a quick whisper to clyde about where you were going.

you squinted against the bathroom light as you did your business, staring at your panties from where they were looped around your legs. a devious smile grew as you bundled them up and stuffed them in your hoodie pocket. you sat back down beside clyde, slipping your hand in clyde’s keeping a straight face as you slid your conjoined hands into your pocket.

clyde fingers groped the fabric from around yours, freezing once they pieces together what it was. then his hand pulled away, traveling down your front and sliding into your waistband. you gasped as his fingers began circling your clit, an order of ‘hush’ whispered into your ear.

you shuddered, fighting the urge to let your entire body bow with your approaching orgasm. your lip curled between your teeth, biting down as you reached your climax, eyes rolling back. as you came down, you locked eyes with a flustered kyle. you flushed and slapped clyde in his side.

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #stan marsh x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #clyde donovan x reader

[eoieopda]

menace (pjm) - pt. i

Just because you hate him doesn't mean you can't fuck him.

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 1/6 (Mini-Series) ⇢ Next Chapter | Masterlist Word Count: 1.8K Summary: Your shithead brother, Seokjin, is throwing his annual Valentine's Day party. You didn't want to go in the first place - and now his shithead friend, Jimin, is responsible for getting you there. Content: Smut (18+ - DON'T TEST ME, MINORS); Seokjin's younger sister AU; fuck buddies that hate each other; mean!Jimin; brat!Reader; spanking and one (1) pussy slap; degradation; v fingering; orgasm denial; ✨ t e n s i o n ✨ A/N: I've been marinating on this idea for a minute, so I figured why not try it on Valentine's Day with no prior warning? Jade chooses violence, always. I dedicate this to my wife, @jihopesjoint, because she deserves a Jimin fic for once, lmao. Tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @mgthecat @btschimeyplanet @jaejoontrashpanda @taebaelove @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @jkoofier (couldn't tag)

“Stop gawking.”  

Your tone was flat, and your eyes were fixated on your own reflection as you fussed with your eyeliner. It had been made abundantly clear to Seokjin that you wanted nothing to do with this party, but your brother never listened. It’s tradition, he’d whined, the reservation has already been made.  

“I mean it. Fuck off.”

You broke the eye contact you’d been maintaining with yourself and glanced over your reflection’s shoulder. Standing and smirking near the door, Park Jimin cocked his head to the side. 

Far and away the worst of your brother’s friends, you added Jimin’s presence in your life to the long list of grievances you held against Seokjin. Other notable entries on that list were: Seokjin shirking off his promise to drive you to the club; asking Jimin to sub in on his behalf; and failing to inform you of the lineup change because he knew you'd kill him with advanced notice.  

On Jimin’s list of infractions — among many, many other things — was his refusal to let you finish getting ready at home. He was insufferable and impatient, but he was your last resort. Knowing this, he'd forced you to hurriedly pack up your cosmetics, which meant you had to finish applying them in the club’s green room.

That motherfucker. 

“Are they uneven on purpose?” Jimin scrunched up his nose in feigned confusion, gesturing back and forth between your black wings.  

You glanced at him briefly before returning your gaze to the task at hand. “Is there really nothing better you could be doing right now? Laying down in the middle of an intersection, perhaps?” 

“Here I was, thinking you’d be grateful for the attention. This is your second consecutive Valentine’s Day alone, isn’t it? Poor girl.” Jimin cooed.

When you didn’t turn to acknowledge him the way he expected, you heard footfalls approaching ominously from behind.  

“Attention’s what you want, isn’t it? Looking downright desperate in this fucking dress.” Jimin’s palm collided harshly with your ass cheek through the fabric of that fucking dress, fingers digging in and daring you to bruise.

He should’ve known by now what you could and couldn’t take; but if he’d somehow forgotten, your lack of reaction would serve as a necessary reminder. After all, not far from his grip was the bite mark he’d left you with last week. 

What is this — amateur hour? 

Your bored expression — blinking idly back at him in the mirror — incensed him and you knew it. Jimin’s frustration with you was palpable, never-ending, and wholly reciprocated. It vibrated off him, echoed off you, and trapped you in a perpetual fever pitch. It'd been like this for months, and you got the feeling that it’d stay this way until one of you cracked and tapped out. 

It sure as shit won't be me.

Eventually, his hand left you. Jimin himself, however, did not. He stayed put behind you and said nothing; simply watching in silence as you smoked out your lower lash-line with deep, matte brown. His expression was indecipherable, but undeniably focused.

You wondered if part of him relished moments like this. If — in the rare quiet where you weren’t fighting or fucking — he felt at peace. He certainly looked that way, but not for long.

You never let the dust settle, though; never let him get too comfortable, or think he was truly welcomed. You ruined it with pleasure, always, by opening your mouth and saying something sharp.  

Then, he’d do or say something cruel in response with the sole purpose of pissing you off. And then that toxic carousel would keep on turning. Around and around and around you went, each silently satisfied that the other was still spinning, too. 

Finally allowing Jimin to know that you’d caught him staring, you rolled your eyes. “How about, instead of leering at me, you go find Seokjin and make unsolicited observations about his love life? There’s plenty wrong there to keep you occupied.” 

He smirked, just slightly, still refusing to acknowledge the fact that he liked your sense of humor.  

“Or —” You drawled, painting your lashes black with mascara. “You could find someone to fuck that actually enjoys your presence. Statistically speaking, there has to be somebody for you.” 

When he turned on his heel and headed for the door, you expected that he was storming off. You didn’t look up, unaffected by his near-constant theatrics. That boy was entirely too dramatic, and if the one thing he wanted was your attention, he wasn’t going to get it.  

But instead of hearing the door fly open and then slam shut, you heard the lock engage. The faint, metallic click from across the room sent your heart into the seat of your throat. Soon enough, he was pressed against the back of you, hot breath causing your pulse to sprint. 

Jimin plucked the tube of mascara from your fingers, earning a glare. “This isn’t waterproof, is it?” he asked with a frown, eyes scanning the label. They flicked up to you and saw the unasked question on the tip of your tongue.  

“Because I’m going to make you cry.” His tone was matter of fact as his rough hand slid up the length of your spine to the space between your shoulders. Pinned with your cheek pressed into the countertop, you gasped. You immediately regretted that small concession. 

You couldn’t see Jimin's expression, but you knew without a doubt that he was sneering. He quickly gathered the short length of your dress in one hand, which he held tight at the small of your back. Even more harshly, his hands grabbed at the waistband of your thong. He dragged it down in one swift movement, well-practiced but never gentle.

The force of it all caused your cheekbone to dig harder into the countertop. You winced as it smarted, but inwardly, you loved it. Jimin would never hear you say as much, though.

Your underwear dropped unceremoniously around your ankles, leaving your center completely exposed and on-display. A loud smack erupted as his hand collided with the previously corrupted skin of your ass, undoubtedly leaving a fully formed handprint where he’d struck you. You hissed through gritted teeth, but the sting was quickly muted when he grabbed a handful of your delicate cheek, fingertips pinching hard. 

When he spanked you again, it wasn’t on the doughy flesh of your ass; it was your unsuspecting, already-aching cunt. Your mouth fell open and a whimper tumbled out. To your dismay, he removed his hand quickly and held it in front of your face.

“Do you see how fucking wet you are?” Jimin scoffed with fluorescent light glinting off his slicked fingers. “Already a mess, and I’ve barely touched you. You’re pathetic — you know that, right?” 

You mumbled your reply, but with your cheek pressed hard against the counter, you knew it was incomprehensible. He cocked his head once more in that arrogant, impossible way he always did. 

“Didn’t catch that, princess,” he said dryly. His hand spread under your jaw and gave you no choice but to look at him. “One more time, with feeling.” 

Insolence building in the pit of your stomach, you narrowed your eyes at him. Loud and clear, you bit back, “I said, you’re right. You’ve barely touched me, princess.” 

Judging by his flushed face, you had him feral. Good.  

Jimin grabbed your wrists and pulled you flush against his chest. One arm slid under yours, crossed diagonally across your heaving chest, and gripped the strap of your dress. His hold forced you up on your tiptoes, while his other hand forced your legs further apart. 

“Such a fucking brat,” Jimin growled against your neck, teeth then nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear. There was a brief flicker of amusement in his darkened eyes when your low moan escaped you. It quickly dissolved into involuntary mewling as his tongue flicked out to spread its heat over the marks he’d left there. “You want to be punished so badly, but I don’t think you can take it.” 

Your voice was breathy, weightless, but there was unwavering defiance in your words. “Try me.” 

Jimin had no choice but to respond to your challenge by dragging his fingers down the soft skin of your pelvis; the coolness of his rings left goosebumps in their wake. As his middle finger dipped down to your clit, you willed your knees not to buckle.  

“Eyes up,” He ordered, his laser-focused stare ricocheting off the mirror to you. When you rolled them instead, he pushed his long digit into you without warning. You jolted, wavering on your tiptoes for a moment until you were steadied by the forearm across your torso. “Eyes up.” 

You blinked, stunned, at your reflection. The hand gripping the strap of your dress dropped to the already hardened nipples peaking through the thin fabric above them. It was impossible to focus on the way he pinched at each of them, or the way he rolled them between his thumb and index finger, because his middle finger was curling against the spongy spot inside of you at an unforgiving pace. 

“You’ll need more than one if you intend to take all of me,” Jimin hummed deviously in your ear. “Have you earned two?” 

You nodded, turning to putty in his hands as he continued to abuse your g-spot. 

“Stupid girl,” Jimin clicked his tongue, then ordered, “Speak.” 

“Give it to me,” You spat, though the fight left you as soon as his ring finger slid into your weeping hole. It worked in tandem with his middle finger, scissoring and stretching you open. And then that goddamn thumb pushed hard into your clit, flicking at it cruelly.  

You were teetering on the edge of oblivion with white hot heat building in your core, and pleasured tears welling up in your eyes; but you were relentlessly bold. “Harder.” 

Jimin smirked as you rutted your hips against his hand. He let out another dry, damning laugh, and then he did the unforgivable: He pulled his digits out of you mere moments before your orgasm could crash over you like a wave.  

You scowled at him through the mirror, but you were thankful he couldn’t see the way your hammering heart dropped dead on the floor of your chest.  

“I hate you,” You seethed, panting. “Fucking menace.”

Jimin placed a chaste kiss on your temple, in total juxtaposition to how roughly you normally treated each other. “If I recall correctly, you told me to fuck off,” He murmured against your skin. The hand that abandoned you whispered down the length of your neck, then disappeared off the slope of your shoulder. “So, I’m off.”

When he sauntered over to the door, you were too furious to say anything. In fact, your jaw was clenched tightly enough to crack teeth. It only got worse when he called out over his shoulder with a lazy wave of his hand, “Fix your face. I warned you about that mascara.”

#pjm #park jimin #jimin #bts #bts jimin #bts park jimin #bts smut #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #jimin smut #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #jimin imagine #jimin scenarios #bangtan #bts army #re: menace #jade writes

[realjw]

Cruising gone wrong

Dan's your typical horny gay bear on a Friday night. He wears his metal harness while in the gay sauna to look for potential fuck buddies. He is unfortunately a quite unlucky tonight, and instead decided to wander to a nearby forest, a nearby popular gay cruising spot.

"Strange" Dan said, "it's so quiet here today".

Dan presses on deep into the woods, until he couldn't see the the town behind him. After walking for a bit more, he finally find a clearing, with a big topless burly man staring at the moon above, facing away from him.

Dan could already tell from behind that this man is his type, and what straight man would be here at this time, wearing no shirt? He wastes no time approaching the man, caressing him from the back. The man did not respond to the initial touch, but a few seconds later turned around in a very awkward and unsettling manner

Dan sees the muscle bear's front side and instantly pitches a tent. This is exactly Dan's type and he wants him NOW. The muscle bear says nothing and stands still. He looks at Dan and his erect member, and smiles creepily. Unfortunately, Dan isn't picking up any red flags because of how horny he is and instead smiles back to the 'being'. The spectral being leans in to kiss Dan in the mouth. Dan carresses the figure's hairy body and presses it hard onto his own out of lust. This made a part of the spectral being enter Dan's body for a second, but Dan's way too horny to notice. They made out for quite a while before Dad demands the being to top him.

The being forecfully tossed Dan to a bed of leaves on the ground. Dan was surprised but thought that this was part of the 'rough' play that he likes. The being approaches Dan while Dan spreads his legs, anticipating the best part of this encounter. The spectral enters Dan and begins to fuck Dan missionary.

"Get INSIDE OF ME!!" Dan shouts in euphoria

The spectral being eyes widened at the sound of Dan's request. The spectral being grabs both of Dan wrist and held them to the ground, just above Dan's head.

"As you wish" The spectral being speaks for the first time, with its low and echoey voice.

Hearing the voice, Dan realises that something is off. But before he could do anything, The spectral being leans in and makes out with Dan another time. Dan notices that this time it's a bit different, the being's tongue seem to reach even deeper as time goes and he could feel the being's face pushing into his face really forcefully. Dan could not move or say anything as he is still being penetrated and pinned down by the being. Dan felt the being's cock pulsate inside of him and release waves of what he could only guess to be cum. All of a sudden, the being's face instead starts to compress and enter Dan's mouth. Dan panics but could not even yell. He could only watch as the massive being slowly works its way into him. The being's head and neck enters Dan's throat, followed soon enough by his hairy, muscular chest. Dan's still resisting and the being's chest was stuck just outside of his mouth. Dan hears the being's voice inside his head

"Accept me, and I'll make you the sexiest gay bear in town"

Surprised, Dan perks up

"Everyone is going to want you, and no one is going to look down on you anymore"

"Really?" says Dan, in his head.

"Yes, now let me in"

Dan is allured by the thought of being wanted by every gay bear alive. Besides, whats the alternative? Being choked to death?

The being's chest slowly moves into Dan again as Dan stopped resisting. Dan could feel the being's hairy chest against his mouth. The being's belly is huge, but it slowly slithers into Dan, followed by its hairy cock and legs.

As the last of the being enters Dan, he let out moans as he could feel the being inside slowly enters Dan's limbs. Dan roars and extends out his arms and legs as he could feel the being's starting to merge with him. First it's Dan's legs and arms which expands twice its size. Then Dan's chest ballooned and stretched out. Dan throws his head back as his jawline also changes in shape. Body hair could be seen spurting and growing out of every inch of Dan's body. Finally, Dan's already erect cock grows in length and girth. Dan spurted endless ropes of cum and moaned out loud. He could hear his voice deepens as he continues moaning. As the moans and streams of cum ended, Dan's head slumps down and he closed his eyes. Slowly, he lifts his head back up and opens his eyes. Dan stares blankly forward in silence, for what it seems to be hours.

"

#male possession #male merging #ghost possession #gay bear #gay

[zen-senn]

Headcanon time!!

This is gonna be a lot of words

Honey is Filipino and they start speaking in tagalog/other dialect randomly, either by accident or they jst wnna be annoying and guy would pout and whine because he can't understand them

Serenading between the two, honey just singing romantic songs to guy (fallen, pasylio, mabagal, buwan, hawak kamay, ligaya to name a few)

Honey is a medical technologist

Guy roped honey into dnd and now honey is hyper fixated on it and will have a full on discussion about their dnd characters with guy

Asher and Honey are cousins

Guy took a pic of Ash when he was in wolf form and showed it to honey for proof that the dog was huge, and honey just internally went, "I knew that the 'dog' would be a shifter but I didn't think that it would be my cousin"

Darlin and Honey are gym buddies, they exchange tips

Darlin once brought honey to a pack meeting ever since they found out honey is empowered and Asher was pretty much shocked honey was there

Asher texts and talks to Honey in Tagalog and when the other pact members hear him they always get reminded that Ash is poc and not a caucasian man (courtesy that he's light-skinned and is an aircon kid (also thanks to that one tiktoker))

Milo first thought that Ash was Hispanic when he first heard him speak tagalog

Baabe likes it when Ash speaks in tagalog (:I like your accent✨️✨️)

Ash has kanal humor and the jokes never land, he'd most likely have a mixture of aircon and kanal humor

Honey does not care for the empowered society, and tries to avoid it as much as they can despite half of their bloodline being empowered (they kinda hate the empowered society because of family problems)

Sam and darlin are so comfortable with one another that they're the only ones to touch scars/parts of their bodies that make them feel vulnerable

Sam peppers kisses on tanks scars

Sam once met Honey and was like "You never told me you had a siblin" since they were almost similar

Darlin teases Sam so much about his title and even kept bringing it up to annoy the shit out of him

Just Sam being so different from quinn that darlin sometimes would not know how to react to Sam's advances and would just be still and confused

A part of darlin misses Quinn to the point that they want to go back to their copings just to get rid of that part of theirs, to just forget

Angel and guy aren't related but consider each other as siblings from another mother

David has heard of guy so much and has seen him before that he really thinks they're siblings and Angels just fucking with him when they say they arent

David loves Angels morning voice so much

When David and angel cuddle, Davids whole body wraps around Angel like a blanket (blanket burrito but the blanket is David)

Angel would sometimes workout with David and David doesn't know if he can keep going, he's weak when he sees Angel workout

Angel sings in a high-pitched tone every morning that it's pretty David's alarm (he throws a pillow at angel)

Angel went to a Catholic school before and was part of the choir

Just wanted to put this out

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted guy #redacted honey #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted asher #redacted babe #redacted david #redacted angel #redacted headcanons

[honeyhotteok]

thank you @razypie for suggesting i post my nonsense <3

summary: you and gun beef over the last pack of your favorite cigs.

--

"I'll have a pack of Marlboro Purple Burst," you and the stranger next to you say in unison.

Your head snaps to see who just said that. Some guy all decked out in a suit and wearing sunglasses indoors at 11pm like a freak, apparently.

The convenience store cashier pulls down the last pack of Marlboro Purple Burst from the display shelf. "Um, we only have 1 pack of that left, would either one of you perhaps like an Ice Blast instea-"

"No." The two of you reply in unison.

You side-eye the fuck out of him again as you readjust the gym duffel bag strap sitting on your shoulder.

"Well. To be honest, I don't get paid enough for this so I guess the two of you can just sort it out amongst yourselves," the cashier sets the pack of cigarettes down on the counter with a tight-lipped smile before going back to their phone.

You turn to the nuisance standing next to you and give your opening argument first. "Dude, you're like, 30. Just let me have my cigs, I need it after finishing my training session."

"First of all, I'm 19, not that I see why that's relevant here."

This grown ass looking man is 19?!

"Secondly, I will not be engaging in whatever petty argument this is." He reaches into his wallet to pay and swiftly takes the pack in his hand.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." You can't help but laugh at his audacity, and step in his path. "Listen, buddy. I've had a long ass day, and to be honest with you, not a big fan of your attitude so far. So why don't you do me a favor and hand those over, yeah?"

He sighs and takes off his glasses, revealing his pitch black eyes and a large scar stretched between them. "Move." he glares.

So what this guy has some freaky eyes? You've seen weirder shit. You glare back at him with your feet firmly planted.

When he reaches for your wrist to pull you out of the way, you front kick him into the shelf of cookies. You rip open a packaged swiss cake roll and smush it into his eyes.

"Sorry!" you call out to the cashier.

You snatch the cigarettes out of his hand. He wipes the cake off his face and swiftly grabs your forearm in an attempt to throw you into the air. But you move even more quickly, elbow striking him in the face followed by side kicking him in the chest, sending him flying back into the shelf of snacks.

You turn and run out the store, the cigarettes still safely clutched in your hand.

Gun stays seated on the floor for a moment, surrounded by fallen shrimp crackers, trying to process what the hell just happened. He finally sighs and dusts himself off before walking back to the cashier.

"I guess I'll have a pack of Ice Blast."

#uhh disclaimer: dont smoke kids!! lol #anyway i truly dont know what the hell this is LOL #a reader who can rival him in both fighting and his bad smoking habit i guess #also idk if this even counts as a crack fic tbh #gun park x reader #i hesitate to even tag this shit lmao😭 #lookism x reader #gun park #lookism

[irregularbillcipher]

was talking this over with someone ages ago but weirdmageddon has gotta be so funny from the henchmaniacs' perspective, because like. imagine you go to some rager thrown by your pal and you know he like, broke into and took over a mansion to host it there, but you're a shitty person without morals and you sort of assume he had a plan so you're like. okay whatever free mansion. but then you get there and he's still sort of figuring out how to be able to keep this mansion and also how to take over all the houses on the block and you didn't really sign up for that but like, fine, you'll help him come up with some ideas. and then the cops show up and your buddy shoots all them, including, like, the president, who came to deal with your friend Personally, but like hey it worked they're gone so you cheer and start partying again. but then your friend hands you a gun and is like okay well we have to defend this mansion now and then he yells at you for not being smart enough to defend this mansion and he starts throwing things and pitching a fit but it wasn't ever your job to defend this mansion in the first place and then your buddy fucking dies and you get run out of the mansion and the whole time all you wanted to do was like play some beer pong

[steve-harringtons-ass]

“Do you love me?” Eddie x Fem!Reader SMUT

Cw: Intercourse, swearing, head (both recieving)

YOU MUST BE 18+ TO READ YOU WEIRDO

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧⁎˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧

The way you and your lifelong friend, Eddie, became 'friends with benefits' was... To put it bluntly, interesting. In fact, it wasn't some kind of contract or mutual agreement. It just sorta happened.

You and him were cleaning up the school's basement together after a D&D meet. Tension between you two had been especially high that week. He couldn't make eye contact with you in the game, he'd brush up against you every time you bent down to pick up something...

And you.

You couldn't explain this sudden attraction to him. You were like a cat in heat around Eddie, and it was embarassing. He'd smile at you and you'd feel heat pool between your legs. You'd take a break cleaning the basement just to get a glance at him doing his thing. When he brushed against you for a third and final time, you had subconciously let out the smallest of noises just to get his attention.

You two had a lot more to clean up after that.

Originally, you thought it was a 'one and done' thing, but one time in the school basement turned into another time in his van, a third time in your room, a fourth, fifth, sixth time...

Now, the two of you are home for the summer after your first year at college, and nothing changed. Anytime you could visit him or vice versa, you did.

But lately, you noticed things were getting more personal. He'd throw in more pet names, kiss you for longer, hang around longer.

You don't mind it at all. It's cliché, sure, but you'd give anything to just word-vomit all your feelings to this man and go from fuck buddies to something more. But it doesn't work like that.

You had just finished moving back in when you hear the phone ringing.

"Hello?" You answer.

"You officially back home?" Eddie asks, eagerness prickling his voice.

"Yup, you?"

"Obviously, where else would I be callin' from?"

You can hear the smile in his voice. "Right, sorry... Hey, wanna do something? I'm done unpacking and I'm bored as all hell."

"That's why I called. A/C's broken here, and I've got nothing better to do..." He pauses. "Not that I would want something better to do-fuck, that came out wrong."

You smile at him getting flustered. "Come over, we can walk around the town and get shakes or something?"

"Sounds fantastic, I'll be there in ten." You heard him hang up before you could say anything.

Sure enough after 10 minutes, his van is in your driveway.

You open the door to greet him, and suddenly it's just like that evening in the basement again. He's wearing a cut up Iron Maiden shirt, jean shorts, and his frizzy hair is pulled into a ponytail. It's enough to make you lose it right then and there.

You close the door behind you, sunlight already far too hot.

"So..." Eddie turns to you as you both start walking down your driveway. "Rate your freshman year out of 10."

"Hmm... Solid 9. What about you?"

"10 all the way, especially since I wasn't too far away to see you." You can't tell if it's just the heat, but Eddie's face turns pink when he says that. He looks away as if he'd said something wrong.

"Ohoho, really? That's all that made it good?" You're studying him while he isn't looking at you. The way he fidgets with the frayed ends on his shorts, the way his happy trail peaks from underneath his shirt... All you want to do is rip it all off of him.

"Well yeah dude," His eyes still won't meet yours. "You're like, my best friend." He says the last few words in an overly excited, high pitched voice to make you laugh.

"Right right, I forgot." You smile when he flips you off as a response.

You and Eddie come back an hour later; sweaty, tired, and hot, to a note on the refrigerator.

It's from your mother. Your sister needed summer clothes and the mall is having a sale, so the house is empty for the afternoon.

The two of you are in your room now, fan blasting as you try and cool down.

All Eddie can focus on as he leans agains your dresser (besides the blistering heat) is you. You're rambling on about some drama between your two roommates, and though he is listening, he has to admit he's getting distracted. He's drinking you up like he's dying of thirst. He's watching you run your hands through your hair, watching your smile beam when you talk about your favorite roommate, studying how the sunlight from your window highlights your eyes, your lips, the frizzy parts of your hair.

He's taking this little secret to the grave, but he's madly in love with you. So in love it scares him, and everytime he sees you it gets more and more difficult not to say anything.

"Yeah, so that was my entire life second semester." You pause and look at him.

"Hm? What?" He stiffens, hoping you knew he was listening.

He looks absolutely gorgeous. His lower back's pressed against your dresser, hands in his pockets. You sit there and he takes his ponytail out, tossing his hair around and running his fingers through it before putting it up again.

"Are you alright?" You ask.

He looks down at you and smiles. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

You get up from your bed, your eyes never leaving his. "What are you thinking about?"

He swallows, and hesitates before answering. He's been acting off all day but you can't figure out why just yet.

"You, sweetheart. Who else would I think about?" He looks as if he had no control over saying any of that, but he doesn't try and take it back either.

"Hm. Sweetheart... That's a new one." You move closer to him.

Sweetheart. The name rolls off his tongue like he's called you that for years. "What else are you thinking about?"

"Do you want my honest answer?" He brushes a stray piece of hair from your face.

"Why else would I ask?"

He leans down to whisper in your ear. "I wanna fuck you until your damn bed breaks."

You lift his chin up with your finger to look at him. He's got a look in his eyes that screams desire, but something's different this time. Before you can figure it out, he kisses you. Suddenly, you're in this alternate universe where you and him have been the love of each other's lives for years. A universe where the two of you aren't one random date away from losing each other.

Rarely do you two ever kiss like this outside of hooking up. Eddie would remain celibate for the rest of his life if it meant still being able to kiss you, but that's something he'll take to his grave. You wish things were different between the two of you. Lord knows just how much you're keeping from him, and you wonder if it's the same on his end.

After a while, you pull away. He looks lost without your lips on his.

"Lemme taste you, please?" You whisper in his ear.

His eyes widen at your bluntness, but it's nothing he isn't used to.

"Shit- you can do whatever you fucking want to me." He starts undoing the buttons on his shorts but you stop him.

"I'll take care of that."

You let him stand and watch as you slide his boxers off. His heart nearly jumps out of his chest as soon as you give him that innocent look, gazing up into his eyes.

"Fucking take it, please." He nearly can't get the words out as you lick up the shaft.

You're bobbing your head as you make an attempt to fit all of him in. All composure he had is lost now as his vocabulary becomes a string of curses, moans, and Y/n's- and you can't help but admire how hot he looks when he's like this. His hand clamps over his mouth as he sinks into your dresser, his other hand buried in your hair.

"Fuck, your mouth always feels so good angel." He huffs, his raspy voice broken up by his moans.

You switch your mouth for your hand, sliding it up and down just slow enough to make him suffer for his orgasm. Minutes pass as you watch him struggle to catch his breath, struggle to stand without his legs trembling. Your mouth is back on him, dragging your tongue across his tip.

"Y/n- God, please please keep going- fuck."

"Mm," You feel his cock twitch, and you remove your mouth with a popping noise. Soon after you watch him cum, and you do nothing to stop it from spilling out onto the floor. Eddie takes a moment to collect himself. You look up at him and take this view in as he's gripping your dresser, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. His arousal drips down his shaft before you lick it off of him, earning a shiver from him.

"You're fucking evil." He groans.

You give him a mischievous look. "Then you're fucking evil."

"Yeah? Can evil get back on her bed then?"

Something about the way he asked has you far too excited. It's the raspiness in his voice, the quiet muttering.

"Hmm..." You pause. "I think so."

"C'mon hun, lay down for me."

His voice sends shivers down your spine, and you obey him. Every minute he isn't touching you is a minute wasted- it's torture.

He takes off your shorts, sliding them off you and tossing them aside like they're nothing. Before he continues, he leans down and kisses you. As his one hand holds your leg down, his other trails up your thigh. He's taking his time, like he's afraid he might wake up and you'd have disappeared.

He starts by rubbing circles on your clit through your panties, getting quite the reaction from you already.

"Take it off please." You whimper. His hands always work like fucking magic on your skin, but you're impatient.

"Of course, angel." He smiles when he notices the blush creep across your face and takes off your panties.

Eddie wraps his arms around your thighs, making sure to spread your legs as wide apart as he can. He's got you locked in, as he always did when he ate you out.

"Don't make me wait, Eds..." You pout as you look at him.

"I've just got such a pretty view, I can't help it." He makes eye contact with you, making sure to maintain it as he kisses the insides of your thighs. His eyes refuse to leave yours even while you're shivering, even while you're gasping and squirming under his grip as his tongue swirls around your clit.

He's excited, his ego inflates every time you moan his name and, quite franky, it's his favorite sound. You're trying so hard not to buck your hips against it his mouth while he latches onto your clit, sucking and kissing the over-stimulated nerves.

He looks up at you, watching the way your back arches and you cover your face with your hands.

"So shy all of a sudden, angel. You know you taste so fuckin' good, I could do this to you for hours..." And he has before.  You can't even tell him you're about to come you're so caught up in his fingers digging into your thighs, his tongue, his words... the way he has to look at you every so often.

Your chest is heaving you're panting so heavily. Eddie listens to your whimpering moans while his one hand leaves your thigh.

"God, you sound so pretty." His hand drags across your skin and you nearly jump.

He scissors two fingers in you, his mouth and fingers creating a rhythm that drives you wild. The feeling of his fingers in you makes you flinch, little moans and yelling his name spilling out of you.

A tightening feeling makes itself known in your stomach and you start to tremble while he laps up every drop that floods out of you. All you could muster up to say was a string of curses.

You sit up after a few seconds of staring at the ceiling.

Eddie looks proud of himself. You're absolutely destroyed, but he doesn't want to be done yet- and he's hoping you're thinking the same.

"Do you... Wanna stop here?" He asks.

"God, no." You pause for a moment. "Get on the bed, I wanna be on top this time."

He looks excited, and you definitely don't have to ask twice before he's switched places with you.

You waste no time crawling on top of him. The look in his eyes is screaming infatuation for you. You're avoiding his cock completely, and the frustration on his face is priceless.

"Be patient, hun." You lean down and kiss him, feeling him abdolutely melt beneath you. He's desperate to touch you, his hands slide up your back. He's gently dragging his hands along your back and you shiver, gasping into the kiss.

Eddie nearly loses it.

You pull away, pecking his lips, then his neck. You're fucking dripping for him, but you just want to tease him first.

Until...

"Please." Eddie huffs. "I need to feel you on top of me."

You smile. "Ohh, alright. You've waited enough."

He looks relieved as you sit back up, guiding yourself to slowly sink onto his cock. You whimper in response, and it's a sound he loves.

"C'mon, princess." His hands are on your waist as he guides you to move up and down.

You're huffing and moaning as you bounce on his cock, his hips bucking so much it's shaking the bed. You both are looking in each others eyes, and there's something so voyueristic about it. Neither of you can control yourselves. He's moving you on him like you're a goddamn fleshlight- and he's touching you everywhere he can. Your hips, your waist, your tits- anything.

Eddie's soft moans and whimpers are driving you crazy. He's looking at you on top of him like you're the 8th wonder of the world, you've never seen him so infatuated with you.

"I love when you look at me like that." You catch him in the act, and his face turns red as he looks away. "Hm? You don't enjoy watching me use your cock for my own pleasure?"

"'Course I do..." He says. "My favorite view."

"That's what I thought."

You pick up the pace just a little bit, and his grip on your hips tightens.

It's all too much. The room is hot, and you both are sweating. He's groaning out from under you, squirming and bucking his hips from overstimulation. You're listening to his heavy sighs and his deep, raspy groans like it's a song- one you never want to end. Your back is aching, your stomach is in knots, but you haven't finished yet.

"Shit." Eddie huffs. "You're so fuckin' hot on top of me, doin' such a good job, hun."

His hands are rubbing both of your nipples, and he can't get enough of seeing your tits bounce. He moves his hands to your waist, then your hips.

“C-Can’t get enough of your hands, hun.” You say. It comes out shakey.

He's yelling and telling you to keep going just as he reaches his climax, but you keep going to reach your own. You give him no time to collect himself, and it drives him up the wall. His mouth is open as curses and groans flood out of him.

"I fuckin' love the way you move, angel.” He mumbles. “Fuck- I love you."

"Ohh fuck." Your back arches, and a shiver runs through your body. He watches you clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling a long, whimpering moan as you orgasm.

You both pause.

You heard it- clear as day.

"What did you just say?"

Time freezes.

He looks at you as if he'd just said something horribly wrong.

"Shit. I didn't mean to say that."

"It sounded like you did." You're panting still. "Eddie. Do you… Do you love me?"

He looks terrified of what will happen if he tells you the truth.

"I need you to be honest."  You break the silence yet again.

"Why?"

"Can you just fucking tell me?" You're not breaking eye contact.

"Yes-Fuck! Yes I did! And I'm sorry I said it." He looks humiliated.

"Sorry?" You slowly get off of him to put your clothes back on, wincing as you do so. "Why would you be sorry?"

"'Cause like, this isn't a... Y'know." He's getting up now too, grabbing his boxers.

You've got your shorts and shirt back on, and you stand and look at him.

"Do you want it to be?"

"I can't answer that, Y/n." He's nervous, he can't even begin to predict how you'd react. He's running his hands through his hair and picking at his nails.

"Answer or I'll just keep pestering you about it." And he knows you will, you're quite good at the whole pestering game.

He draws in a breath before letting out a deep sigh.

"I mean, yeah. I do. But if you don't and I just ruined things, I want you to tell me."

"You didn't ruin anything, Eds." You look at him, making sure he knows you're serious. "Have you ever considered that I might've felt the same?"

He looks shocked for a moment before saying, "No. Why would you?"

"Do you not see where I'm going with this?" You pause, and he doesn't seem to suddenly understand. "I'm fucking in love with you. All I've wanted is a relationship out of this."

"Well why didn't you say anything?"

"Same reason you didn't."

He comes up to you, taking your hands in his. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I've wanted nothing more than to be your boyfriend since we became friends."

"It's okay, really. I could have said something, too."

"So then... Do you ya wanna be…?" He looks at the floor, and for someone who’s literally fucked you in a bathroom stall once, he’s incredibly awkward now.

"Hmm. I'll have to get back to you on that." You snicker. "God, this is so cheesy. Of course I will."

He smiles and kisses your forehead.

"Alright, can we do something about this fuckin' heat?"

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