#(i dropped it once before the anime aired and got me back to it)

[burningcheese-merchant]

I know that it is highly unlikely that it is the case, but come and give it a thougjt with me (Yandere Spice with a twist).

What if: Burning Spice, despite being completely obsessive and being the sadomasochist he is, routinely cuts off the heads of animals and cookies and brings them to her the first time with a love letter (he used to be the Herald of Change, so I'd imagine he's got- and retained- some brains, enough to at least write a psychotic obsessive love letter).

Now, Golden Cheese is obviously gonna freak the f out and gape as he shoves the head into her arms (probably throw it into the air and back up in panic) while Burning Spice- though displeased at first, just grins manically at her reaction soon enough (maybe even laughing), before he grabs it and shoves the letter and head onto her hands again and leaving.

Golden Cheese, having noticed his reaction to her throwing it, becomes concerned with what he might do if she doesn't accept the 'gifts', decides to keep it (She flies hella fast and enters through her window and hides it in a secret compartment in her room, before creating a hidden room the other gifts in the future).

Now, here's the twist:

Despite the shock and horror she displayed to Burning Spice's gift, she knew that deep down... She fucking loved it. She silently revels in it, even. At having so much of the Beast- A cookiebeing you could practically almost consider primordial and all-powerful-'s attention and taking up so much of their headspace. To be obsessed over adored by someone like that, so much so that they would go out of their way to behead someone and something and write a love letter daily, just to give it to her as a gift-

In short, she absolutely loves the attention she will never say it and will keep that to her grave and Burning Spice and everyone else is none the wiser of it. Of how she'd kept every letter and laminated every single one with the care and cautiousness and love one would use when holding thin glass, of how she intentionally goes out alone every day for a few minutes just so Burning Spice would 'see an opening' and give his gift, where Golden Cheese would then act terribly disgusted and horrified, and then keep the gifts. Ignorant of how she has a room full of the 'gifts' he's given her- which she'd taken the time to personally taxiderm each and every one, before hanging it on the wall like a reward or trophy. Of how she'd come to the room every night to just adore it just the sight makes her want to coo and purr in delight for a few minutes to an hour, before going to bed and resting.

Sorry for the rambling and the long paragraphs 😅😅

This is such a horrifying (in a good way) concept that I MUST acknowledge it and give my take!!! Gonna put it under a cut because this is particularly dark

Yandere Spice basically acting like a cat is so fucking funny to me lol I love it

I'm so glad you think Spice is a smart guy due to having been the Herald of Change/History, because I think that too! He simply HAS to be intelligent, even wise to a degree. It would be ridiculous if he wasn't; being buff doesn't automatically mean you're dumb. And I LOVE the letter thing, I've always headcanoned Spice (the "normal" one, not the yandere one) as writing Golden romantic poetry (and her liking it lol. It helps win her over).

Now, with the murder gifts: of course Golden is horrified. Not only has Spice ended innocent lives, but he did it for her. In a way, it's her fault, and she feels horrible. Animal, person/cookie, doesn't matter, Spice has killed again and he gives the fruits of his sinful labor to her as a declaration of "love". It's sick. No matter how deranged she finds him, he finds a way to sink lower. (But... one thing: he never hurts birds. He has never once brought her a dead bird, because even he knows that's a step too far and she REALLY won't like it. It's the one little drop of care and tact that he possesses.)

But that twist: somewhere beneath all those layers of shock, disgust and righteous anger is... flattery. Sick, twisted flattery. There's nothing Golden loves more than being praised, than being worshiped, than being showered with attention and gifts... and Spice is doing that. He's feeding her ego, albeit in the worst way possible. And so great and terrible is her ego, no matter what she does to temper or suppress it, that somewhere deep down inside, she enjoys what he's doing. That he'll gladly kill for her. That he'll show off his hard work in search of her praise and admiration. She is a goddess and he knows it. He is giving her the adulation she rightfully deserves.

Now, of course, this contradicts her normally altruistic nature, and she has a massive crisis of conscience. She keeps everything Spice gives her, she keeps the heads and the letters and stores them all properly, because... Well, she tells herself that it's better this way. If she refused them, he would retaliate, if not against her then against another innocent. If she preserves the heads, she can later discover who they belonged to and hopefully return them to the person's family (and it was the least she could do; clean them up, give them back even a fraction of their grace and dignity...). If she reads the letters, she'll have better insight into his mind and how he thinks, and thus be able to formulate a better response to him and his behaviors. These excuses are what she mutters under her breath over and over as she sneaks the heads into her room, through the window so no one sees her. As she tidies and laminates the letters, and stores them in a secure folder that she tucks into a box under the bed (which eventually becomes boxes, the more and more letters she gets). As she expertly taxidermies the heads and places them on nice shelves in a hidden closet in her room. It's better this way. She has to do this.

...and these are all true, they really are. But at the same time... Existing alongside this pain and terror and crushing guilt, is the sick joy in knowing that she has someone wrapped around her finger this completely. And a Beast, too. The Beast of Destruction, no less. Burning Spice himself, heads over heels in love with her, willing to do anything to have her. It shouldn't please her to have a monster practically at her beck and call, but... it does. It really, truly does. And no matter how much she hates herself for it... It's never enough to make it stop.

Sometimes, she'll hint at a specific person she doesn't like - usually a known enemy of her kingdom - just to see if he'll do what she thinks he will. Sure enough, the next time they meet, he has that person's head ready for her, all but puffing his chest out in pride and grinning that hideous, face-splitting, cruel grin of his. She acts upset, but she's actually pleased to know that she was right: he WILL do what she tells him to, just to please her.

Sometimes she'll stand there admiring her ever-expanding taxidermy collection, congratulating herself on her hard work; she does a better and better job every time. (And when the guilt comes bubbling to the surface, asking her why they're still here and not with their loved ones so they can have a proper funeral, she tells it that Spice will lose it if he catches her giving them away. Or she'll be made out to be the one responsible, since she's the one who has them. Or they're dead, their souls have departed to the afterlife, what happens to their mortal vessels matters not anymore...)

Sometimes, when she's in bed at night, she'll pull out the letters and read them. Sometimes she'll read one, sometimes a few, sometimes all of them. Some are surprisingly sweet and romantic, full of oddly gentle and doting words; she can feel the warmth and affection soaked into the page. Others are downright vulgar; she feels her own face catch fire as she reads through what are obviously his fantasies, the list of ways in which he wants to pleasure her so long and graphic that she suspects he wrote them one-handed, if you know what I mean. The rest are just flat-out deranged: feverish rants about his ownership of her, how he hated and wanted to get rid of those around her, how she took everything from him (his power, his sanity, his heart, his soul) and he was willing to pardon it if she gave him everything of hers in turn. How he will never stop hunting her. How he will slaughter thousands to get to her. How he will bring the world to ruins just to have her to himself. Madness. All-consuming delusion that she fears is incurable.

But the worst part is... she doesn't know if she wants it to be anymore.

All she can do now is... hope he never finds out. Hope he never knows she feels this way. That she relishes his kills, his gifts. That she has a godforsaken trophy room now. That now she's as starved for his attention as he is for hers. (And he will. The idea is simply too tantalizing. He WILL find out eventually, someway, somehow - and when he does... Oh boy.)

TL;DR: Golden is so greedy that her greed has warped her into being as bad as Spice, at least in her own way. They probably deserve each other at this point. Pure, incorrigible arrogance and psychopathy all the way down. God/Witches have mercy on us all

[houkagokappa]

I clicked on one of those twitter threads about holding yuri to high standards and got excited when someone in the comments talked about loving “problematic yuri”, but then their recommendation was Citrus

It doesn’t even cross my mind when I think about “problematic media” why are people being so weird about it

[joelsgoldrush]

“crawl home to her” | 7.5k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.

A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well 👀 you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3

Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.

He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesn’t even bother to crack the window open—why would he?—before exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.

One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isn’t screwing him over—no older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.

Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but he’s also bored out of his mind. 

Where the hell are you?

He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.

His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.

But it’s not you. It’s one of his passengers.

We’re getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.

Logan can’t bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows he’s not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if he’s rooted in place with no way out.

Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.

He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say ‘No’.

All in all, he’s got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. He’s been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drink—but damn it.

He wants to talk to you.

You’d said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles and—

Okay, he’ll get back to that later. 

You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?

Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.

Logan: Got it.

The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesn’t care about being a messy fucker. He’ll deal with the mess some other time.

Priorities.

A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how ‘weird’ it smells in the limo.

With a grimace, he sprays a little more—floral, of all scents? It feels insulting.

How kind of him to still be this considerate.

His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasn’t had in years (thanks to you).

One, two, three rings, and then—

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like you’ve been hurrying all over the place.

He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.

Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.

You can’t see him, but he smiles either way. “Hey, baby.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I just—I felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.”

You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. “Please tell me you weren’t sleeping when I texted you.”

“Not even close. Still waiting for them.”

“They’re really taking their time, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. “How was your day?”

“Great! I’m already in bed.”

“My bed.”

You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. “Well, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if I’m at your place? On the floor?”

If someone had told Logan a year ago that he’d let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, he’d have scoffed. "Pathetic," he’d have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure he’d also puffed his chest while saying so.

Because Logan Howlett wasn’t one for accepting help. He’s been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.

But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it weren’t for your altruism, he wouldn’t have accepted this job—a job that pays well enough to cover Charles’ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich family’s money.

“You’ve got a girlfriend now?” Charles had asked, when Logan explained he’d be staying with you while he went away for a few days.

“Big word you’re using there,” Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charles’ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. “Don’t play dumb. It’s not like you don’t know the drill.”

Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then what is she?”

“A friend.”

“That’s nice. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. “Try not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?” he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words. 

And that’s when you drop the bombshell. “You mean like you did?” 

You laugh, but Logan… doesn’t. He can’t do it. He makes sure he’s breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out. 

The mention of love unsettles him. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, doesn’t know what game you’re playing. Where’s the rulebook?

Is he—could he be—falling in love with you? Is that what you’re implying? And if so, do you feel the same?

In the long run, you mumble: “It was a joke.” Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he can’t let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.

He promised himself he’d never hurt you. Though he doesn’t intend to, it feels as if he’s just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frame—unwillingly.

“Remember the—” he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. “The pills. You’ve been giving them to him, right?”

“Yes, Logan.”

“Please, remember it’s only—”

“Logan,” you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I have it under control, okay? He’s doing alright. I swear I’m taking good care of him.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. “Can’t help but worry. That’s all.”

A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.

“You said you’re sleepin’ on my bed.”

“Good memory you have.”

“You wearin’ my clothes as well?”

 Thick silence, the kind he relishes.

“Yeah,” you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: “I forgot to bring mine.”

He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.

“I don’t believe you.” He knows he shouldn’t, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. “Think you did it on purpose.”

A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.

Still, he craves more. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. “When did you turn into a horny teenager?”

“Always been, baby,” Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a moment—no cars, no one in sight. He’s presumably alone. It’s all the confirmation he needs to say: “C’mon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.”

He’s never done this before—phone sex. He’s heard about it, sure, but never imagined he’d fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.

What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.

“It’s just a random shirt,” you murmur. “Plain, white.”

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

Logan’s breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. “No panties? And you expect me t’believe this wasn’t planned?”

Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. “Why do you do this to me if you’re not here?”

“‘Cause I want you touchin’ yourself just like I’m doin’.” He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. “Bet that pussy’s been cryin’ out for me, huh? Must’ve got used to me fillin’ her every other night.”

Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. “I need you here with me. This is—ugh—not enough.”

“What’s not enough, sweetheart?”

There’s a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearly—the wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. “My fingers,” you blurt out, more distant than before, like you’re merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.

Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.

He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. “I spoil you too much,” he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to make yourself come.”

Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But it’s not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, because— “Want your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.”

He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. “Fuck, darlin’. You keep sayin’ those things and I swear I’ll be back with you by morning.”

His sole focus now is you—getting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, it’s the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. “Keep talking, please,” you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. “Tell me what you’ll do to me when you see me.”

Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. “Gonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, ‘cause I know my girl loves that, am I right?”

My girl. He’ll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.

Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though he’s surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his being—a storm in which your name is the eye of it all.

You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.

Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.

Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture. 

“Come for me, princess. You’d make me so h-happy if you came right now.”

And you do, because it’s not just his touch anymore—it’s his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How you’ve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.

Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he can’t see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.

He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.

Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.

Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.

So phone sex is off the list now. Great.

“Miss you, too,” he mumbles once he’s caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.

The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but that’s all he can force himself to spit out.

Sometimes, he forgets that you can’t read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but he’s at a loss for how. Words aren’t doable when he needs them the most.

Maybe it's a matter of age—you’re a natural at voicing your feelings.

At some point, you ask: “When did you say you were returning?”

One thing’s clear: he can’t afford to lose you. He’d be an idiot if he let that happen.

“In five days, I think.” Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“It’s okay,” you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. “I should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Thank you for everything. “Get some rest.” Are you still in love with me? “Bye.” I’m coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?

So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.

Exhaustion clings to him again.

His luck has never been this good.

The next afternoon, one of the couple’s kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.

Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!

What she doesn’t realize is that Logan, in fact, doesn’t know how children are, because how could he?

He’s holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds it—he’s not one for luxury, has never needed it.

Truth be told, he’s no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like they’re alive.

Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. He’s coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days he’s been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.

Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?

How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, he’ll be yours again?

He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.

He watches in the rearview as the kid’s father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Do you have kids?” he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like he’s trying to break the silence that’s settled between them. 

Logan’s only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song he’s never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but it’s enough to drown out the man’s words and the boy’s misery.

Some things never change.

As the sun dips below the horizon, he’s finally free, no longer at anyone’s beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.

Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.

When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesn’t honk, doesn’t announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.

His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.

Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long it’s been since he last ate.

Later, he tells himself. After. Once he’s sated his true hunger—the kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable. 

Hunger—yes, it’s animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once he’s near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.

His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.

It’s already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though he’s just woken from a long, ethereal dream.

He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position. 

A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isn’t his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.

It’s incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.

The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he can’t help himself.

His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that he’s here.

Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.

Welcome home, Logan.

For the first time, he feels that someone’s been counting down the minutes until his return. He’d always believed a person like him didn’t deserve this. That he just wasn’t built for it.

Countless years had he spent convincing himself he’d never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long ago—predetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.

Destiny, fate, call it what you want—once the cards are laid out, there’s no escaping them. Or so he used to think.

You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, he’d always be grateful. Grateful that you’d seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.

Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.

“Logan?” you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. “Why—how—”

“Sweetheart,” he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early!”

Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?

Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You could’ve told me,” you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. “I would’ve waited up for you at least.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.

You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”

The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. “I could use a human-size pillow.”

“I should shower first.”

“No.”

“Baby, I smell like gas.”

“So?”

A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.

Ten minutes later, you’re dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and there’s not a patch of skin between you left untouched.

Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: “I missed you.” His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.

You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. “Missed you, too.”

How the roles have reversed.

In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.

3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.

Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because he’s rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasn’t helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.

He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another shower—this time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.

His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.

When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.

“It’s nothing,” he says, pulse accelerating. Please, don’t look down. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“But what is—”

He doesn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.

“Wow.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“And leave you like this?” One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”

Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.

Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.

“Darlin’, I don’t—” He’s cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. “I don’t need this.”

“Seems like you do,” you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. “I want to take care of you. Always do.”

Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.

You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribs—a blood-pumping machine of passion—surges back to life as he sees you.

He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.

This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.

“You’re so hard,” you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. “Guess you did miss me.”

With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. “I’m not the only one who’s been missin’ someone.” He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. “Why am I not surprised?”

Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. “That’s what happens when you’re gone.” Another kiss on his nape. “You could take me with you next time.”

“Can’t do that,” he answers, teasing your entrance. “No work would get done.”

His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.

“You’re not goin’ back to sleep, are you?”

There’s the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: “Please.”

He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.

As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to what’s hanging from your neck.

His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you I’m coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadn’t expected you to actually wear them.

Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.

“You like ‘em?” His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Like knowing you’re mine? You get off on it?”

You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desire—a good lover, indeed. A decent one.

Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.

He may be older than you, but he’s always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.

The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.

With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.

When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside him—a deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.

At the end of the day, he’s a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.

Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocation—your body his last breath.

Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.

From where he lies, you’re a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. “Just what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you. You love makin’ your old man happy, don’t you?”

He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like this—raw, ungraceful.

His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it he’ll ever find.

“Shit, I…” you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. “I thought about you every day.”

“Bet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?” His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. “Can smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.”

You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.

He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Logan’s stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.

For a brief moment, he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.

Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes. 

“Remember what I told you that night over the phone?” he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. “Repeat it.”

“Logan—”

“You say it, and I’ll make it happen.”

Perplexity clouds your features. “You said you’d fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, because—”. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.

He’s home.

“Go on. What else did I say?” he teases, relishing in it. He’s guilty as sin. “Or were you too lost in thought touchin’ yourself?”

“F-face to face,” you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. “You said you’d do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”

He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.

Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. “None of that, princess. Look at me, c’mon.”

You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. “Logan,” you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.

The way you say his name—seductively, charged with a fascination that riles him up—manages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. It’s all the invitation he needs.

“I know. Too much, huh?” His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He can’t help it, though: it’s in very his nature. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.”

Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.

“Please,” you beg, voice breaking as you plead. “Fuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, please—”

Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He won’t pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.

The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.

Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.

He wonders if he’s ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. You’re given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breath—just his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.

He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.

So fuckin’ tight. Can y’hear her? How badly she needs me?

Sex had never felt like this before. He’d grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasn’t the best he’d ever know. 

For a while, he’d tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.

And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasn’t enough to push you away.

He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.

“Close?” he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. “Such a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.”

The constant, steady drag of his cock doesn’t seem to get old for you. He’s leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.

His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesn’t need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.

The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times he’s heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.

You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamed—like a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.

Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell.  It’s not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesn’t bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You haven’t changed your mind.

He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more.  He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.

Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesn’t need much to be happy.

You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet it’s true.

Even after he’s traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he can’t help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.

Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. You’re a dream come true.

It can’t end like this. He can’t allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.

“I think…” He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. “I don’t—”

“Logan,” you interrupt, your hand finding his. “I know.”

Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that can’t be enough. He can’t lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.

“You still deserve to hear it.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration. 

“You were right,” he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. It’s not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. “I’m in love with you.”

You scrutinize him as if he’s revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.

“It won’t get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?” He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. “This is what I am.” Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.

He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not with you because I’m waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.” A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. “Do they look good on me?”

“You don’t need them yet.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t pull them off.”

“Come here,” he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.

And so it gives you the chance to speak up: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

I hope I don’t, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

[queenendless]

💀🎃👻Spooky Greetings👻🎃💀

A/n: This literally came to mind when I saw something similar in the actual game event. First time posting twst content here. This may get a sequel. Gonna try to post variety spooky content here cause HAPPY OCTOBER YALL!

SPOILERS for the new Halloween game event going on, somewhat. Also, a bit of Skully x fem!reader and implied fem!reader x the twst bois shown/tagged down below. Short Harem drama, kinda. Not much. But I think it ain't half bad.

*DON'T STEAL, COPY, EDIT, REPOST AND TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. REBLOG, LIKE, FOLLOW PLS N THNX.*

“Hello, my lovely~”

The moment this new strapping figure — “Skully J. Graves at your service~” — appeared holding you in his arms as you awoke, you were awestruck at the spooky strapping young man.

After introducing all of yourselves, watching him kiss the hand of your schoolmates was amusing; seeing their appalled expressions. Guessing they don't get that brand of greeting often, huh?

Him kissing Grim's cheek had his fur stand on end to your delight.

And yet?

The moment he took your hand — only to pull you in and kiss you smack dab on the lips?

You felt the fires of envy and hate turn ablaze as the various pairs of eyes glowed outrageously.

Many hands, gloved or not, snatched him off you.

And all hell broke loose.

“Get your grubby hands off my beloved, you cretin!” Riddle turned red even his paled up Gothic aesthetic; Trey holding the struggling boy back in his arms.

“He means MY herbivore, skeletal bastard.” Leona growled in Skully’s face as he grabbed his collar.

“On the contrary, MY angel isn't up for auction when it comes to kisses from mere worms.” Azul's irked smile gave off unpleasantness.

“Oho? That doesn't seem to be the case, surely.” Jade jested to his boss's ire.

“MY jewel’s already doing so, octo pimp. That goes for you too, street rat.” Jamil hissed them both back and forth.

“Have you no manners of consent, you mongrel? Besides, my darling Y/n has better taste than you all. Me, for example.” Vil flaunted in the others irked faces; Epel looked just about done at this point.

“Don't you dare take away my Otaku goddess, you noob!” Idia gripped dramatically to the others nuisance. 

“How dare you lay a finger on my beloved human.” Malleus spoke doom.

The air around them crackled with literal lightning as emerald flames had his hands full.

“My future Queen … prepare yourself … FOR HELL.”

“WAKA-SAMA!” Sebek switched to fanboy mode at his God's might.

“For once, we're on the same page.” Leona's smirk sent his way spoke volumes as he dropped Skully before the dragon prince.

“TSUNATARO, STAND DOWN! ALL OF YOU, PLEASE!” You got in the way to defend the new anime boy from the others' united wrath, especially Malleus's. “One kiss is not that big of a deal.”

You could hear a pin drop now as everyone, even Skully, viewed you as if you had two heads.

“Good grief. Ya sure you're not magical? Cause you're bewitching them into lovestruck fools. And you're not dating any of ‘em. God, you're an idiot.” Grim griped.

Leona, Jamil, and Sebek appeared as glowing eyed phantom monsters ready for the kill. “YOU'RE ONE TO TALK, FUR BALL!!!”

Yet Skully looked unperturbed, his charming toothed smile arised, as Grim got chased by three SSR dressed pissed off mages. “Oya oya … What a lively bunch, you all are. And all because I took a kiss from your sweet lips, lovely Y/n. But if you are single, then may I ask you out?”

“NO!!!” All the former overblot cases now turned bachelors for your token affections shouted in unison.

Trey, Jade and Epel and you hung your head in exasperation.

Ah, quite the Harem dilemma.

Halloween coated, no less.

[natti-ice]

Reader catching eddie jerking off and moaning her name

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni,masturbation, blowjob, cum eating

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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You walk in the front door of you and Eddie's trailer after work and shut the door quietly, you toss your keys into the small bowl by the door and let out a sigh. You were so glad to finally be home after a long day and were looking forward to some much needed relaxation, you took off your shoes before placing them on the shoe rack. You tried to walk as quietly as possible as to not wake Eddie, he worked night shifts so he was normally asleep when you got home.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was in fact not sleeping. When you walked into the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets to find something to make for dinner, you heard something. At first you assumed it was some animal outside making noise and brushed it off, you continued to search through different boxes of pasta and ready-to-make meals when the sound got clearer.

Your ears perked up when you heard your name, you knew that voice very well, the desperation laced in every syllable, you've heard it so many times it's burned into your brain. You stopped immediately what you were doing and started to walk towards the back bedroom, the floor creaked slightly under your weight making you stop and curse yourself for not being as stealthy as you'd hoped you would be. You held your breath for a moment hoping that Eddie hadn't caught on to your presence, when you heard another soft moan you knew you were good to keep going.

As you approached your bedroom you noticed the door was cracked open, that's why you could hear everything so clearly, the closer you got to the door, the more turned on you became. You were always a sucker for hearing your name escape Eddie's lips, no matter the situation, even when he was mad at you it still drove you crazy when he said your name. Once you made it to the doorway you saw him, propped up against his pillow with the blanket scrunched up at the bottom of the bed. Eddie's eyes closed as his hand works his cock with ease, you could hear the squelching of the lube that coats his shaft.

You covered your mouth as you hold back a giggle, he looked so good laid out on the bed like that, all vulnerable and desperate for release. You debated on turning away and letting him be but something about your man fantasying about you while jerking off really turned you on.

"Need a hand, handsome?" Your voice called out breaking the thick tension in the air, Eddie's eyes immediately shot open and his hand stopped mid stroke but he didn't try to hide what he was doing.

"Oh hey babe," he chuckles softly "I didn't hear you come in." he looks you up and down, admiring every line of your shape "I wouldn't mind a little help" you could see the smirk growing on his face, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of you pleasuring him.

You smile and walk into the room, you get onto the bed and position your face above his crotch. "Well, allow me" you say seductively before dipping your head down to his cock, you look up at him as you swirl your tongue around his tip, the saltiness of his precum coating your tastebuds. Eddie's body shuddered slightly as you took his sensitive member in your mouth, you slowly moved your mouth up and down his length, you could taste his favorite cherry flavored lube that he loved to use on you.

His hands gripped the bed sheet beneath him as you increased your speed. "Oh fuck, just like that baby" he praised your work, you could hear his breathing becoming more rapid as you sucked him off, soft groans and slurping sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom. You knew he was close, the tip of his cock pulsating in your mouth was an indication of his approaching orgasm, you kept the same rhythm and before you knew it his cum shot into the back of your throat.

“Mmm fuck” he groans loudly as he drops his load in your mouth. His chest rises up and down rapidly as he takes his cock out of your mouth and pulls you up to his chest, you quickly swallow his seed and rest your head on his chest. You can hear his heart pounding as he comes off his high, “thank you, sweetheart” he whispers, his voice was scratchy from the intense pleasure you just gave him. He plants a soft kiss on your forehead and wraps his arms around you, holding you close as an appreciation for your service.

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Tags: @tracymbcm @ali-r3n @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @canmargesimpson @nailbatanddungeon @queermaxwooo @zestychili @skrzydlak @supersmexyandhot @themadhattersqueen @arthurcerverogf @asimpforthe80s @yeaiamme2 @thepurplelovewitch @luv4peterba1lard @boa-hemian @thiccthighbby @jethro-mcgee-tony @keirasreplies @limerence-17 @mandies24 @tlclick73 @songbirdofthenight @evie-119 @spacedoutdaydreamer @emilyj444

Join a tag list!

[princessbubblegumsstuff]

im gonna need to see ot8 with #11 smut 😇 - 🎐

Ot8- face sitting 

Requested- smut 11 

Genre(s): smut

Pairing(s): ot8 x femreader 

Warning(s): smut, explicit language, oral sex (f.receiving and m.receiving), face riding, face sitting, sex, kissing, breeding kink (?), cum eating, squirting

Words: 2,43k

prompt list (leave requests🩷)

Bangchan

After a difficult week at work, getting home late and leaving early, not seeing you much. He was so frustrated and stressed and filled with so much anger. He left the studio early, desperately needing a break. And even more desperate to see you. He basically jumped you the second his eyes landed on your figure, kissing you with so much lust and passion and hunger. Like he couldn’t last another second without feeling you. As if you were his air.

,,Wait-” you try to pull away to ask him if he’s okay, but all he does is pull off your tank top before he kisses you again. His tongue enters your mouth without no intention of leaving as he leads you to your bedroom. His hands can’t rest, roaming your body as they grope your tits and squeeze your hips. His lips move lower, licking all over your neck, biting to mark you as he groans almost like an animal. ,,Need you” 

He drops down to his knees and yanks off your shorts with your panties in one go. You wait for him to undress too but he doesn’t. Instead, he just gets on the bed and plops down in the middle, desperation written all over his face. ,,I need you to sit on my face. Come on, baby. Come here” he groans, pulling you in by your hands as he hurries you up his body. ,,A-are you sure, Channie?” you whisper and he answers with a slight bite to your thigh that makes you yelp. ,,Hurry” 

And then he pulls you flash onto his mouth, his tongue not wasting a second as it finds your clit and starts flicking it up and down fast. You moan, your back arching in ecstasy. Your sounds spur him on as he sucks on your little bundle of nerves harder, desperate to drink all of your wetness in. 

He continues devouring you until you cum all over his face and before you can come back to your senses, he has you bend over with your face in the sheets and pounds into you so roughly that you could cry… 

,,Such a good girl for me, baby. Take it, take it all. Can still taste your sweet pussy on my lips.” 

Minho

It started off with you teasing him about his oral skills. He was good at it and you both knew that, but you were just being a brat once again and wanted to see him riled up. And riled up he got. He hated when you lied and especially when you lied about his skills. It made him want to punish you. 

So that’s how you ended up sitting on his face with him taunting you. ,,You said I was bad at it so now you do the work and ride my tongue, come on.” You have been trying to make yourself cum for almost an hour, always getting close but then you couldn’t quite move since your legs were shaking, forcing you to stop and edge yourself once again. It was so frustrating, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you kept trying to make yourself cum. He would only laugh at you, teasingly licking your clit every time you failed. 

,,Please, Min. I can’t do it. Please, just do it for me. Please, you do it better” you beg, needy and face wet from tears. ,,Thought I wasn’t good at it?” he raises his eyebrows at you from below teasingly. You whine, wanting to get off him and sulk until he fucks you, when he suddenly wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you flash down onto his mouth. His tongue working immediately, licking thick long stripes and sucking on your clit just how you like it. 

You moan so loudly, it’s pornographic. You hear him scoff before he focuses on drawing little circles on your clit, trying his best to get you to cum. You gush out all over his face, covering from his nose to his chin in your essence and he happily licks it all up. 

Once you do finally cum, spent and exhausted as you try to get off him, he doesn’t let you. He only tightens his hold on you, licking your whole labia teasingly. ,,You begged me to eat you out. So now you’ll have to take it till I’m done, okay?” he smirks. ,,And that might just take a while since you taste so good.” he makes an obscene moan before he starts devouring you once again, making your whole body shake with overstimulation. 

,,Just one more, you can do it kitty. Be my good girl and give me just one more. Cum with me and I’ll fill you up so nicely, just how you like it.” he whispers into your ear once he finally gets his cock inside you. 

Changbin

It started with a joke. You were sitting on the couch as he whined about being hungry. You told him you were too lazy to cook so he could just eat you instead, giggling and not being serious. Changbin took it very seriously though. 

Soon after, he was lying on the couch and pulling your clothes off as fast as he could, pushing you towards his face. ,,Ready for my dinner, bunny. Come on, give me my dessert.” 

And eat he would. His tongue relentlessly flicking your sensitive clit before fucking into your wet hole as he swallowed everything you gave him. Sucking on your nub, trying to get all of your juices into his mouth. His thick muscled arms holding you down firmly on his face, not letting you move a single inch away. Making you cum once, twice and third time in the spam of 20 minutes before he pushes you off, lays you down under him and fucks into you with so much strength it makes your whole body flinch. 

,,My dumb bunny, just making a joke and then paying for it. Mhmm, pussy so good I could eat it all day” 

Hyunjin 

It would happen after sex, because he is a secret little freak in my opinion. After drilling into you for an hour straight, throwing you all over the bed as he thrusted deeper and deeper into your wet cunt, pulling your hair and spitting in your mouth, he filled your pussy up with his second load. Before you could even catch your breath, he laid down and pulled you on top of him. ,,Gonna clean my pretty girl up, yeah?” 

Those are his last words before he devours you completely, not letting a single drop go to waste as he abuses your cunt with his wet tongue. Sucking on your sensitive clit, licking all around your hole desperate for every single bit of your mixed cum. He enjoys the way your body shakes from the overwhelming pleasure, from the amount of orgasms he gave you already and he’s needy to give you even more, trying his best to get you over the edge as he gives it everything he has. His big hands squeeze your plump thighs as he loses his control and absolutely ravishes you. 

,,That’s it, pretty. Give it all to me, give it to me. Cum again for me, come on.” he’d moan right into you, coaxing another orgasm out of you as you cried and whined from the pleasure. 

Han

He would be so desperate for it. Eating you out was one of his favorite activities ever. He could do it anywhere and anytime. So persuading you into sitting on his face was his next goal. He brought it up suddenly. ,,Sit on my face.” looking at you with his wide eyes and a small teasing smirk. You were scared, turning him down many many times. He whined, begged and begged, reassuring you as much as he possibly could. 

One day he came from work and was feeling down. He came to the edge of the bed, laying down between your thighs. ,,I need you to sit on my face. Please, baby. I need it so much. It’ll make everything go away, make everything better. Please, please. Just once. You won’t hurt me, I swear. Even if I did die there, I’d be the happiest man on earth.” he whined, pouty lips and wide eyes as you played with his locks. 

Once you finally give in, he is so excited. Smile so big as he doesn’t waste a second and undresses you hurriedly before he lays back and beckons you to him. You are unsure, slowly moving to sit on his chest. He whines from underneath you, eyes firmly planted on your pussy as his mouth waters. ,,Sit, baby. Don’t hover, put your whole weight on me. Suffocate me with those thighs. I fucking need that, you have no idea how badly I want it.” he says before his arms push you right onto his inpatient mouth. 

He is so sloppy with it, spit and your wetness all over his face as he licks you. His tongue wondering from your ass up to your clit over and over again as he covers himself in your scent. He pushes his nose against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, needing the strongest taste of you as you overwhelm all of his senses. His nails dig into your thighs as he loses control and groans and whines right against your pussy. ,,Taste so fucking good, ah” he mumbles, completely out of it. You pull on his hair, hips moving on their own and he moans even louder when you grind on his face. 

He can’t force himself to stop and makes you cum at least five times before you yank him off. You are ready to attend to his cock when you see the wet spot on his pants. He looks at you innocently and shrugs. ,,I told you I needed it. It was so hot, baby. I need you on my face every day.” 

,,Pussy tastes so fucking good I could die. That’s it, use my face. Make yourself cum for me, use me baby” 

Felix

He was so sweet as he brought it up. He told you about his wet dream where you sat on his face and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. You agreed to try it even though you were scared and hesitant at first. He leaves kisses all over your body, praising you and reassuring you. ,,You’re so beautiful for me, y/n. Always so perfect. I want to please you and feel you completely.” he whispers as he lays down and waits for you to get on. 

You move slowly, unsure as you hover over his face. He plants a quick kiss on your clit before he giggles and moves you closer to his face, his surprisingly strong arms holding you down firmly. He starts off slow, licking all over you and easing you into it. Before he loses all of his control and absolutely devours you, munching on your wetness and making so many explicit sounds. You spam and shake and moan above him, fingers tangled in his long hair as your hips move on top of him. 

 He whines and groans. ,,Fucking hell, baby” mumbling in his deep voice as he makes you cum over and over again. Until his cock grows so hard he can’t take it anymore, causing him to flip you over and thrust his whole length into you in one go. 

,,You’re so wet, my love. I told you would like it too.” he chuckles as he fucks your brains out. ,,I’ve never been harder in my life. Need to do that again. Now just take all I give you, yeah?” 

Seungmin

Whilst you are sucking him off, deep throating his big cock and gagging around him, spit and drool falling everywhere, he can’t keep his eyes away from your bare ass. You are kneeling by his side, mouth full of him and ass up in the air, looking oh so delicious and inviting. He can’t help himself as he slaps your cheek before pulling you to him, grasping your thighs as he pulls you onto his face. You yelp, pulling off his length in surprise. ,,What- what are you doing?” you say in a shaky voice and he just pushes his hips up to your mouth and eats you out like a man starved. 

You find it hard to focus on sucking his cock as his tongue abuses your clit over and over again, licking your wetness out of you. You stroke him with shaky hands, tongue sloppily licking his slit as he tongue fucks you into oblivion. 

After making you cum four times, he decides he had enough and flips you over, pushing his spit covered cock into you and pounding you into another dimension. 

,,Such a dumb slut, pussy so sensitive she can’t even suck me off.” he groans into your ear as he presses your legs further into your chest. ,,Now you’ll let me use you as long as I want to, yeah? Be my good girl” he plants a kiss to your forehead. 

Jeongin 

He is drilling into you, holding your hips up as he fucks you from below. You whine, flinching and crying out as you feel another orgasm coming. Your pussy spams, pushing him out as you squirt with a loud moan. He smirks, pushing three fingers into you, curling them up and abuses your spot as he waits for more. He watches your pussy, notices your clit twitching and he feels an urge to taste it. 

He suddenly takes his fingers out and pulls you towards his face, sucking your clit into his mouth before he starts licking you clean. He licks off every last drop and your pussy just can’t stop streaming more. He is hungry for it, primal instincts driving his body as he devours you whole, pushing you more onto his face and fucking you on his tongue until you give him more and more of your delicious wetness. 

Once he’s done, he groans loudly and turns you around, pushing you onto all fours and thrusts into you again. You gasp, grasping the sheets before he pulls you up, flash against his chest and wraps a hand around your throat while the other one plays with your clit. 

,,Make another mess for me, just one more time and then I’ll fill you up, yeah? Come one, pretty.” he bites your neck and picks up his pace. ,,One last time. Cover me in your wetness, baby.” 

[violetarks]

"they don't love me like you do!"

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

summary: despite the countless valentines day offers he receives, satoru will only ever accept one confession. but you're confessing... to his best friend?

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, high school! au

"please accept these chocolates, gojo!" says the girl in front of him. satoru casually pulls down his glasses enough to see the red, heart-shaped cardboard box.

"oh, uh... thank you." he awkwardly says. this girl was two year below him, judging by the colours of her indoor shoes. he didn't even know her name. "this is... a surprise."

"i've liked you ever since orientation day. i hope you like these." she says with a nervous grin. she's stiff as he takes them out of her hands, standing up straight to stare at the tall man. "thank you for always being so funny and helping everyone you can."

"ah, you're welcome." he says, tucking the chocolates and the letter taped to it under his arm. luckily, the lunch bell had rung and everyone should've been off to enjoy their break. "well, i'll... see you around."

"b—bye, gojo!" she calls, waving at him as he walks the other way. he gives a kind smile before he turns the corner, dropping it immediately.

on the way to class, multiple other students watched him as he carelessly skimmed through the letter before stuffing it in his book bag, ready to throw it (and the others) away once home. valentines day was this week and it was two days before it today. yet satoru had received tons of confession letters and date proposals, none of which he had the intention of accepting.

plopping down in his chair, he groans, hanging his head, "ugh! i hate being so loveable..."

suguru rolls his eyes, outting his book down. "here we go again." he grunts, shaking his head.

"seriously! why can't i be left alone around valentines day?" he questions out lout, pulling his lunch box from his bag.

shoko bites into her sandwich as she listens to him. as she swallows, she retorts, "maybe it's because you flirt with every living being on earth." satoru sends him a pointed look. "so how many letters today?"

"seven." satoru responds, knocking his bag.

"and?"

"none of them were from y/n." he sighs out, picking up his chopsticks.

"wait, y/n?" suguru pipes up, putting his juicebox down, "as in y/n from class d?"

the blue-eyed boy raises a brow, halting his movements. "uh, yeah? l/n y/n." he recalls to his friend, tilting his head, "what? i've been talking about 'em for the past three months—suguru, have you been listening to me at all?"

"oh!" the dark-haired boy chuckles, nodding his head, "i know y/n. we're in the same literature class."

satoru stares at him in disbelief. the other students surrounding them are in their own little world, but the three of them didn't even mind them hearing if they tried. shoko continues to eat her food while suguru shrugs at his friend.

"are you kidding me?" satoru gasps out, waving a hand in the air, "i've been trying to get with them for three months and you tell me this just now?"

"you should've been more specific, man." suguru retorts, waving it off, "anyway, you gonna' ask them to be your valentine?"

satoru sighs loudly, hanging his head back, "i don't know... we only share bio together, i bet there's a lot of people who have asked them to be their valentine. they probably won't even accept mine."

shoko purses her lips and stretches her arms. "i don't know about that." she claims, "you're a pretty guy and everyone knows you. i doubt they'd pass up the chance to revel in that popularity."

"... thanks, shoko."

soon enough, the bell rings and the day goes on.

the next day, satoru notices something in your hand during biology class.

"whatchu' got there, y/n?" he asks, peaking over your shoulder. he sat behind you, enough room to see the handwritten letter you were writing.

"satoru!" you jump a little, covering the page. he furrows his brow. "it's, uh... i'm just writng something."

"is it... for valentines day tomorrow?" he inquires, curious to who was the lucky person. but you were still hiding it from him!

"no, of course not." you were lying, he could tell by the way you look to the left. a pout falls on his lips. "it's notes. for another class."

"oh... okay." he responds, a bit disappointed. why would you lie to him? he sits back in his chair, writing down some paragraphs from the textbook mindlessly. he saw the way your elbow quickly shifted, you were writing faster. your head was down too, never looking up. you were so concentrated.

he's known you for a couple of months now. you bumped into him on the way to school, and you admitted to him that you were a bit lost since you didn't live around here. satoru, being the gentleman he is, offered to escort you. you thought he was some creep (he tried reaching to hold your hand and when you jerked away on instinct, he played it off as it being the wind).

but once realising you two shared some classes together, you grew fond of him. you knew of the countless students throwing themselves at him. both older and younger. he was the school heartthrob. it's a shame though, only your smile could make his heart race like he makes others do.

when you gave him your lucky pen when he told you he didn't study and he was freaking out, you had this kind smile that made him think 'i don't want anyone else to see this but me'.

and he noticed that you awkwardly took it back from him, looking away as he clasped your hands tightly in the filled hallway and thanked you. your reactions were just the cutest...

when the bell rings, you perk up, putting your 'notes' in a suspicious looking envelope and signing it off with something. you stand up and satoru is quick to walk by your side when a classmates holds his arm to talk.

"huh?" satoru grunts, furrowed brows.

"gojo, i... i wanted to give you this." they say, holding out a teddy-bear saying 'be my valentine!'. satoru frowned when he took it. "you don't have to answer today... just let me know tomorrow, please."

as they continue to talk, he sees you exit the classroom. the letter sits comfortably in your palm, and you look left, right, before walking off. satoru is electrified.

"okay, thanks!" he says, running out of the classroom while he clutches the bear in his hands.

weaving through the crowd, he looks for the top of your head. after more and more people pass him, staring at the teddy and whispering 'who gave that to him this time?', he spots you turning the corner, a nervous look on your face. he mutters out apologies as he bumps into people heading to their next class.

the hallway you're in now is empty. you stand in front of a classroom door, waiting. notably, suguru's math class.

satoru stands at the end of the corridor, behind the corner, as the classroom door opens to reveal his best friend, geto suguru.

"suguru!" you call, smile. your shoulders are straightened, you hold the letter in front of you. not scared to show him...

"oh, y/n, hey." he responds, grinning as well. the comfortability around you two was so strange to see. "what's up?"

satoru feels like he's buzzing out. he can't hear everything you're saying, but you look a bit excited yet anxious. he hears your sweet voice speak to his best friend with such kindness that he's jealous. sure, suguru was attactive and nice and he definitely didn't feed into the popularity like satoru did, but...

why did it have to be you who was interested in him?

"please, take this." you say, handing him the same letter you had before. except this time, satoru sees the 'g.s' on it. 'geto suguru'. and you take out a box of his favourite snacks to hand to him. "thank you for everything, again. you're the best."

suguru takes it with ease, seeing how you looked at him. his gaze softens as he takes the treat as well. "you're welcome, y/n. anything you need, i'll help with." he puts the letter in his own bag before slinging am arm around your shoulders. "now, what're your plans for after?"

he was blatantly asking you out now! right after satoru told him he had feelings for you! such betrayal!

you two walk to the other end of the hallway, in the direction of your literature class. satoru slumps against the wall, furrowed brows and lips pressed into a thin line. after a second, he pushes his glasses up and lets out a slow exhale. he could get over this...

"gojo! may i please have a moment of your time?"

"wait no! me first!"

"gojo, can i talk to you?"

"please accept these!"

or maybe he couldn't.

valentines day was today and you danced into school with such confidence. you had a bouquet of flowers in your arms, chocolates of the sweetest kinds, and a bag of new perfume that you knew your crush would like.

you were so excited.

satoru, who was walking a few people behind you, was not.

he saw the amount of passion you put into the holiday, and it made him sick to know it was for his best friend. the guys was in such a bad mood, he ignored suguru and shoko's calls this morning to meet up and walk to school together like usual.

satoru clicked his tongue, thinking about how dramatic the whole valentines day idea was. really, who needed it all anyway?

in homeroom, he can hear your class (which is next to his, across the hall) start whooping and cheering when you walk in. and he knows it's you by the chants of your last name being heard. he sits in his chair in anguish.

"satoru, morning. finally." shoko says, sitting down as well. she grins, bitting the popsicle stick between her lips. "where are all of your valentines presents?"

"stuffed in my shoe locker and under my desk." he claimed, opening the top of it to showcase the blaring red and pink gifts. she picked at one pocky box, munching on the biscuits. "how about you?"

"i got a couple letters and cookies in my locker." she claims, shrugging her shoulders, "lots of 'em are from the badminton team. i don't know why."

satoru shrugs as well as soon as suguru sits down in front of him. the blue-eyed students scoffs, looking away.

"good morning, satoru." he says, noticing his friend's behaviour, "what's got his panties in a twist this morning? does he know we called him a hundred times?"

"i dunno'." shoko says, looking out the window to the school garden. "ask him."

"satoru, what's wrong? didn't get enough presents this year?" he teases, leaning in his chair to poke his head, "wake up late?"

but satoru angrily swats his hand away. the raven-haire boy blinks curiously before satoru glares at him. "why didn't you tell me you were interested in y/n?" he asks, hurt.

shoko looks back to the two boys, seeing suguru just as confused as she is. "you're into y/n?"

"what? no! who said that?" suguru retorts, hands up in defense, "i'm not interested in dating y/n, swear on my life."

"that's a lie!" satoru accuses, pointing a finger against his friend's nose, "shoko, i saw him and y/n all... all... familiar yesterday after period 2! he had his arm around them!"

"suguru..." shoko warns.

"wait wait, that's—you got it all wrong." suguru groans, now understanding. he digs through his bag and pulls out a piece of paper. "here. open it."

satoru pushes away the paper reading 'g.s'. "no way! i'm not reading y/n's love letter to you!"

"ugh! just open it!" suguru grunts, shoving it onto his desk.

satoru begrudgingly takes it and gently opens the letter, not wanting to rip it. once his eyes fall upon the page, he confirms that it's your handwriting.

'thank you for being the sweetest boy to me. i am truly honoured to know such a beautiful person, inside and out.'

satoru wants to barf.

'sitting near you in biology really helped me to understand you, satoru. you're not only a pretty face, but a world-class sweet tooth, a sucker for romantic cliches and a cologne-collector.'

satoru thinks this is the most beautiful thing he's ever read.

he contiues to read, expression changing, letting shoko and suguru understand his thoughts. the girl looks to the other boy, who shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes.

"i'm confused." shoko states, tilting her head.

"y/n isn't confessing to me, they're confessing—"

"y/n is confessing to me! me, satoru!" satoru exclaims, waving the letter around like a maniac. everyone else in the class was suddenly a listener, peaking at the trio. they were interested in finding out what the one confession that resulted in this reaction was. "oh my god, oh my god!"

suguru nods his head. placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "yes, yes, they are. i was meant to give you the letter this morning to read before homeroom, but someone was pissy." he scoffs, shaking his head, "so i had to go and tell y/n that plans had changed."

"you... helped y/n plan this all out?" satoru mumbles, "but you didn't even know!"

shoko chuckles, staring out the window again.

"i just said i wasn't paying attention so you didn't think i was snooping. which i was. and i only told you i knew y/n so you wouldn't get any ideas, like this." suguru circles the air with his finger, deadpanning at the clueless satoru, "you think anyone would do this without definitive proof the other person liked them?"

satoru continues to read the letter you wrote for him before his eyes land on the ending. "'please meet me at the school fountain before homeroom ends.'" he murmurs out, blinking, "suguru—"

"you were meant to go two minutes ago." his friend sings out, standing in front of shoko's desk. he points out the window, much like other students were doing in their own classrooms. "you should..."

when his friends turn around to him, satoru is already one foot out of the door. he's rushing downstairs (down three flights of stairs, actually) with your letter clutched in his hand. he almost flies into a couple teachers on the way to the garden, only for their attention to be caught by students opening the windows and pointing outside.

when he rushed through the doors to the garden, you're staring at the floor, still holding the flowers and gifts you brought to school with you. taking a moment to gather himself, satoru runs fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses. the pair you've complimented a thousand times.

satoru walks closer to you and when he catches your eye, you stand up straight and smile.

"satoru." you chime, not missing the thousand pairs of eyes that were following your every move. "good morning. happy valentines day."

you hold out the flowers to him. it's set in a nice box, and the treats are in a gift bag. when you give it to him, your smile is awkward but hopeful.

"happy valentines day, y/n." he replies, taking it from you. he sits down on the fountain edge, and you follow along. "i'm so sorry, i... i don't have anything for you."

"no, no, no." you retort, grinning, "it's fine. this was a surprise for you, anyway."

he sighs, "no, i'm sorry... please, let me make it up to you."

you laugh a little, placing a hand over his on his lap. the flowers were sat on the fountain with his gifts. "sure thing." you retort, "hey, suguru told me that this morning—"

"i'm sorry, i know, i just thought..." he begins, cutting you off. he looks embarrassed, heavy blush falling over his cheeks. "i saw you and suguru yesterday and you gave him that letter. had me thinkin' you were confessing to him instead of me."

you let out a small chuckle, making him gulp, "oh my goodness, i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see that. we were trying to be sneaky."

satoru's chest feels lighter, and he feels better just hearing it from you. he links his fingers with yours, facing you fully.

"ah, no it's fine." he tells you, the most purest form of adoration in his eyes that you can see from the top of his slanted down glasses. you grin softly. "listen, i have had a crush on you for months... and i was hoping that you'd go out with me. i want a chance to get to know you personally, away from any prying eyes."

you peer to the side, seeing the people watching you. they were practically hanging out the window, waving their hands and fighting to view the whole scene for themselves. cameras took photos and videos, capturing your moment with him.

"i'd love that, satoru." you say, scanning his face, "you're the best."

it only takes him a single second to reach his hand out and brush his thumb agaisnt your cheek. you don't freeze up though, only relaxing into him. he was the most inviting guy you've ever met.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, voice unwavering. his blue eyes are staring at your face with such kindness that it cannot be described.

you don't even say anything, only leaaning forward and pressing your lips to his. he's smiling against your lips, gentle hand caressing your cheek. your eyes flutter shut, holding his hand tightly.

cheers erupt from the school. screams and whoops from guys and girls alike. most students are heartbroken due to the obvious confession. nobody had even gotten that close to satoru. no one has been able to hold his hand, let alone get him to go crazy over a letter. you got him to race out of that classroom like a madman, and everyone was surely surprised.

the shouts die down as the kiss deescalates, many of the students sighing as they're forced to move on from the heart-throb gojo satoru.

when you pull away, satoru chases, leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead. your smile is wide and you pinch his cheek softly.

"you're such a drama queen, satoru." you say, standing up, "i was wondering why everyone started yelling and staring at me all of a sudden."

satoru stands with his presents, rubbing the back of his neck as he holds your hand. h goes to answer when a voice is heard from the fourth floor.

"the idiot took some convincing, y/n!" suguru shouts, waving his hand, "glad to know he's got some sense in him!"

"shut up, suguru!" satoru calls back, showing his fist.

"first period is about to start, you two!" the principle says through a window on the third floor, "this is all heart-warming, but you've failed two of ms kinoshita's classes, gojo!"

"r—right!" he retorts, pacing to the school entrance as people begin to 'ooh' at him. he looks back at you, smiling the brightest. "let's go out after school today, yeah? i'll buy you as many sweets as you want."

you chuckle, kissing his cheek, "my hero."

[yuoimia]

I CAN’T SAY ANYTHING TO YOUR FACE!

summary: they think you’re too pretty for your own good, really.

characters: wriothesley & alhaitham

notes: gn! reader, lighthearted fluff n teasing, wc: 800.

wriothesley

Does he think he can trick you again?

It’s almost funny, you muse to yourself as he routinely leads you through the fortress’ weaving labyrinths, the delicate wafts of Fontaine’s finest decadents alongside the sweet, slightly floral mist of Earl Grey tea increasing in strength with every step, naturally forming a semblance of a smile before you quickly regained your composure with a disappointed slap to the forearm.

Focus, you reprimanded to yourself. Stop thinking about cakes.

“What’s got you scowling like that?” Wriothesley lifts a curious eyebrow, surveying your face as he lightly closes the door behind you. “Pick a seat; I bought some new cushions since you complained last time that they made your back sore.”

He enunciates the complained with an air as if dealing with a petulant toddler’s meaningless tantrum.

Wriothesley notices how you don’t take a seat.

“Thank you,” you answer, prodding the rounded corners of the flowing material. It’s your favorite color, your favorite fabric.

He gazes up expectantly from his seat, taking a small sip from his teacup, swallowing with analytical attentiveness. “You know, it’s considered impolite to just stand and stare.”

“Wriothesley,” you interpose, crossing your arms behind the chair in front of him, examining his presence with a contemplative look. “What are you getting at?”

You continue theatrically spurring points when met with only silence. “Private teatimes? Customised cushions? Sigewinne’s stickers of you on my clipboards?” You take a generous breath and step, zeroing in on him over the tiers of desserts and frothing drinks, arms encasing his frame over the table. “If I didn’t know better,” you slyly whispered into his unblinking eyes. “I’d assume that you like me.”

The tension was hazardously electrifying, eliciting a sense of exhilaration with the mere possibility of a confession concocting itself into reality.

Wriothesley lets out an animated mixture between a sigh and a chuckle, dropping his head into his hands, before raising his head once more.

“You’ll need to repeat a few points again,” he muttered, smiling to himself, sounding almost disappointed. “Preferably with your back turned to me.”

“Why?” You furrow your brows; each second spent with Duke brought you with an ever-growing list of concerning questions to answer.

“Seeing you that close was quite dangerous,” he replied breathlessly. “I’m surprised you’ve never been labeled guilty.”

alhaitham

Alhaitham was stubborn. Yes, he admits, he could be fairly hardheaded and temperamental, but in comparison to you? Well, he considers that a new territory entirely.

“Birds of a feather,” Kaveh had nonchalantly shrugged at Alhaitham’s situation, nearly trickling an onslaught of sarcastic enquiries about this and last month’s missing rental payments and his growing apprehension towards Kaveh’s financial management, but that, alas, would just prove his point further. Alhaitham would rather have three meals of soup a day than let his agitating roommate emerge victorious in a verbal debate.

Thoughts surrounding soups reminded him to check in if you really had gone to bed after dinner, as you had reluctantly agreed, though not spared a wry roll of your eyes when you thought he had turned away.

It was common knowledge that if a person was sick, they should take it easy, rest often, and avoid strenuous activity and demanding tasks. While you were eager to comply with doing practically nothing all day, when the pedestal of stars rose above the fallen west horizon, so did your desire to defy anything Alhaitham suggested. And this part he fully blames himself, although grudgingly, that it was arguably a hundred percent his fault ninety-nine percent of the time. The factors? This he’s comfortably justified to alleviate restless nights—decisions were almost always influenced by bias, no? It was human, and Alhaitham was nothing but a human with human cognition.

The deliberate turn of the door handle, languid and surprisingly unlocked (what sort of scheme could you be possibly planning now?) has Alhaitham nearly stumbling out suppressed laughter of incredulity.

“What are you doing? Didn’t you promise me you'd go to sleep?” he gapes, the expression bearing comparable similarity to a blown-up pufferfish, not that you’d tell him that.

“Watching a movie. Would you like to join?” you push over blankets and pat an empty spot next to you. “I’m about halfway done so far. I’ll warn you, the protagonist is absolutely insufferable sometimes.” You release a long, suffering sigh, rubbing your forehead as if the character’s choices were causing you great distress. “Honestly-“

Alhaitham sits himself on your bed, much closer than you anticipated, cocking his head at your rapidly stumbling words.

“You’re so stubborn,” Alhaitham scowls, gently wrapping your waist with the loosened blankets. His voice carries no trace of malice, rather weaved with soft fondness. “Come on, let me see this protagonist that is causing you so much grief.”

[eomayas]

smoke break • jjk

pairings: non-idol!jungkook x f!reader

genre: fluff

synopsis: you accompany jungkook as he takes a smoke break.

warnings: smoking (jungkook)

a/n: been in my drafts for months so i decided to bite the bullet and finish it

following jungkook outside, you suck in a sharp breath at the biting, chilly air and wrap your arms around your midsection. the silk tanktop you put on for tonight feels like a bad idea despite the fact that you have a coat on, every inch of exposed skin arising with goosebumps. you marvel at how he manages the cold air in just a tshirt, not a a single raised hair on his tattooed forearms.

jungkook rounds the corner of the bar and stands in the designated smoking area, a singular dim light illuminating the side of the building. he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and puts one between his lips, letting it dangle out the side so he can pull out his lighter and shove the carton back into his pocket. glancing over at you at the sound of your teeth lightly chattering, the corner of his lip twitches before he asks, “cold?”

“it’s fine,” you lie. you don’t know why you do, but you do it. jungkook chuckles, the smirk on his face spreading as he cups his hands around the end of the cigarette and sparks his lighter. you watch him in mild awe, the steady pounding of your heartbeat slowly increasing as he drops his hands and takes a drag of the cigarette. jungkook tips his head back and blows the smoke upward and away from you, eyes closing for a brief moment.

you quickly divert your eyes when his gaze lands on you. it’s dark so he doesn’t see the way you flush, heat spreading across your cheeks and down your neck. you’ve only been seeing jungkook for less than three months, your relationship still new and not completely defined, and you still get nervous around him. he knows he has that affect on you and takes advantage of it; like right now, he lets his gaze linger on you a beat longer before smirking to himself and lightly shaking his head.

outstretching his leg, he gently taps you on the shin with the toe of his shoe, grabbing your attention. he blows the cigarette smoke up and away from you, eyes following it until it disappears into the night. “you said you had something to tell me?” he questions, a single eyebrow raised.

you wrack your brain for what you wanted to tell him earlier, mildly distracted by his mere presence, before gasping once you remember. “oh! you remember that one lady i work with—the one who i work next to? well, she got fired,” you say, quickly falling into the story.

jungkook is attentive as you talk, his full attention placed on you. he nods along with your story, only interjecting to ask questions when he feels necessary. for the most part, he just lets you talk, smiling at you fondly when you get really into your story and become much more animated than you normally are.

meeting his eye, you trip over your words and lose your place. “and she… she…” you blank, blinking at him stupidly while he just tilts his head to the side like a little puppy, waiting for you to go on. “she… sorry, i lost my train of thought.”

jungkook smirks at you and blows smoke out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. a small chill runs over your body, making you shiver irregardless of the fact that you have on a jacket. you’re convinced he likes making and watching you sweat; he wordlessly observes you for a few seconds, nothing but a smirk on his face and a cigarette dangling between his lips. “she was yelling in the lobby,” he offers, taking a pull from his cigarette.

it takes a moment for your brain to reroute and find its way back to that part of the story. “oh, yeah! so she was yelling, and our boss…” you get back into your story, breaking eye contact with jungkook for a brief moment in order to remember what came next.

jungkook watches you with a small smile on his face. each time you look at him, you quickly blink him out of your vision because it makes you blush, and by the third time you’re unable to take it anymore. “what?” you ask, face flushing in the moonlight.

shaking his head, he says, “nothing,” and flicks the ash off the end of the cigarette. it’s nearly a stub, shorter than his pinky. you look at him, lips parted, as he blows the last bit of smoke out of his lips and up into the night air. “it’s cute.” he murmurs, flicking his cigarette onto the concrete and stubbing it out with his toe.

“hmm? what is?”

“you,” jungkook replies, cupping his hands around his mouth and blowing his warm breath into them. his eyes never leave yours, and you’re positive he can see your blush despite the darkness of the night, because he smiles at you for real this time—teeth and all—as he rubs his hands together to bring warmth into them.

“whatever,” you mumble, but you’re smiling as you avert your eyes to a dirty poster tacked onto the brick wall behind him. jungkook chuckles and lightly pinches your cheek between the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger. you fake frown up at him, but crack a smile when he calls you cute again. “okay, enough.” you please, batting his hand away from your face.

“see: cute,” this earns him an eye roll, and you a kiss on the cheek since he rarely ever kisses you after he’s had a cigarette. “let’s go back inside.”

jungkook grabs your hand and leads you around the side of the building back into the bar, and you have the realization that you never got to the end or your story.

[lady-ashfade]

Cantober: can you do Yandere class 1a doing a trick-or-treat contest!

🍬 Candy Competition 🍬

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Yan!Class 1A x Gn!Reader

Fall Tober Day 2

WARNINGS: Yandere, Light-Hearted, Reader being tugged around, short but cute, rushed ending.

GENRA: Imagine/HC’s

WORDS: 1.5k

A/N: where have I been? That’s interesting- I had surprising surgery and it took all my motivation away, so I have been recovering from that….Yayyy

All weeks lead to this moment. All that time you spent putting on makeup in your mirror, saving to buy that costume, and time it spent to get it right- all came down to this moment.

“Has everyone brought a coat?” Iida shouts above your wailing classmates as they all express their excitement. It was a really nice sight to see everyone so happy and not at each other’s throats. The girls complementing one other on their costumes, taking pictures and hyping up the other. While the boys did the same, it was different. Like, some of them had fake weapons and decided to have a soft fight.

Izuku was dressed as…Of course it’s allmight but one of his old suits. He was explaining the lore to todoroki who stood there with a calm expression in a vampire outfit. It was plain, you knew he just walked into a store and then threw on whatever was in the packet. But, he looked lovely nonetheless.

“Love your costume,” a voice popped up from behind you, following with a pair of hands tugging on your outfit. Turning around you see a floating costume — Hagakure was speaking. You smile and slight shuffling away, hoping to not draw attention to leaning away from the touch.

“Thanks! It cost a lot but it was worth it!!” You shout and show it off with your hands as you giggle happily.

It took a minute to realize what she had on before your mouth started to squeak with excitement, “You’re costume is so perfect, it makes it more scary.” if she wasn’t invisible she would have turn a different shade by now. She was going as Raven from teen titans, it was cool to see it just floating and no one behind the hood.

“I also think you look wonderful” a shy but perky voice chirps. You look to the side and see koda with a shy look on his face, red tented cheeks and a avoided gaze. He was dressed up in a white lab coat, well more of a doctors coat plus all the equipment.

You giggled and reach for the bird on his shoulder who graciously allows you to pet its head, “Dr. Dolittle? A little on the nose,” as the bird pushes its head back into your hand while koda freaks out a bit, but you are quick to dismiss his embarrassment.

“Not a bad thing tho! I honestly like your costume, plus you have so many animals— it’s easily my favorite.”

Suddenly everyone went quiet, all eyes turned to you and you awkwardly shuffled. Tension filled the air and you dropped your hand from the bird who whined at the loss. “What? Why are you all staring at me?” It didn’t take but a few seconds before everyone crowned around you, pushing poor koda away before showing off their amazing costumes.

“What about me? You said you loved my costume,” Mina pouts her lips as she plays with her skirt. You quickly tried to comfort her, “So you think I look cute? Awe baby!!” She went to kiss you before Kaminari got in her place in front of you. 

“I’m a handsome devil!! Flynn Rider, from your fav Disney movie,” a week before this he begged you to be Rapunzel and even though you declined he still kept the costume. He heard you say flynn was hot, so obviously you think he’s hot now. “Don’t fight it, or the smolder.” And he pulls out the exact face flynn does in the movie….How long did he practice that?

“You helped me make the costume,” Shouji lift up his shoulders and moves is arms- he was Doc Ock. And you did help him when he asked, honestly you picked it out for him. Once you suggested it and he planned on doing what you wanted.

“I believe I get a chance to speak,” Todoroki raises his hand amongst the crowd before people talk over him.

They are all shouting now, each one of them getting pushed, many hands tried to grab you, and yet when they tried to kiss you or flirt it went over your head because something else was happening.

“Everyone stop yelling!” A loud and annoyed voice echoes over everyone, making the whole class stop and straighten up. You sigh in relief, thanking your teacher in your mind for saving you. “Everyone pay attention, you have two hours to complete this area. Who ever gets the most candy wins.”

As usual, The Dekusquad pair up, along with the Dakusquad and the more chill ones group together. “What do we win?” Denki asks while everyone nods.

“Two tickets to see F/B.” Mic pops out of nowhere and announces the prize. You let out a streak of excitement and everyone turns.

“I’m winning this thing!” your obsessed classmate glare at each other, there was only one way to get this right- is to make sure you win! Or, win themselves and take you — either way they wanna play tug of war for your attention.

Everyone including you lined up at the gates and you noticed a timer above the arch. It looks real, you think as you stare at the fake town in front of you. It was to dangerous to have the whole school in the city when you guys seem to have targets on your back, so they built a whole small city inside the USJ!! You heard that some parents are here, actors and even pro!heros who have the time to spare.

As the clock counted down in the tenths you started to fiddle, same as your classmates while getting impatient. “Good luck everyone! Sorry if I happened to get competitive.” you shout just before the time loudly goes off.

You expected to get trampled over so you started to run but the area around you changed.

You were in the middle of the street!! Fake houses to your every turn, Halloween decorations in the small yards. “What hero can transport?” it was a question that you shake off before heading to the house on your left.

Somewhere in the distance your classmates cause hell to find you, and get as much candy as they can to win.

“Two lollipops? What are you, cheap?” Katsuki yells at the old lady who opened the door, his friends awkwardly shuffling in the back. Kirishima tugged him by the back collar away from the lady and back to the path.

“Can’t yell at people man! What would y/n say? So unmanly.” kats just huffs at his best friend and pulls away from his grip. All things considered they have been doing well, their bags are getting full and heavy.

“Look who I found?” A feminine voice speaks out, making the boys turn back around. They see you tripping over your shoes as Mina gives you a little nudge closer.

“Mina,” you whine, “I love hanging out but I have to win! This is F/S we are talking about here, I would sell my soul to get tickets.” You try to stray away from them but they block you.

“We can woke together! It’s no different then going alone.” Denki was at your side and placed his arm around you, getting himself shocked at the touch of you.

“We have so much candy, wouldn’t you like to join in? We have more then you!” Sero tries to manipulate you into staying.

So you sigh and let them take you to the other houses, and soon enough your bag is full but you try and push the candy down to make more room.

“I can’t believe you guys,” you smile, “If I win, I am for sure taking one of you!!”

Green Flash.

The place you were standing in is now empty and no sign of you, a gust of wind shakes their clothes and hair. There was only one person who could have made that struck of green energy…

“Deku!” Katsuki shouts but he wasn’t heard by the corporate.

The Dekusquad had taken you and had no plan of letting you go, they only have ten minutes left to make sure you, or themselves won. And they would be damned if they let anyone else win.

“Come on darling,” a hand stroked your cheek and made your eyes open. You saw shoto looking at you, while izuku held you in his arms. “Can’t win if you have your eyes closed.”

“Yeah!” Shoto was pushed aside by a overly excited Ochako. “We wanted to help you win, we already have three full bags.” Iida, Shoto, and Froppy held up the full bags and your eyes go wide.

“Izuku, you can put me down now.” he was quickly to apologize and let you down, turning bright red and looked shameful.

“Next time warn me,” you get a feel for standing again as iida helps you stand straight without getting dizzy.

Over all you had a amazing time with your friends even if they weren’t easy to handle. And when you walked back into the gates, there was a chance of winning. Thought you didn’t win first place, the dekusquad did and promised you the tickets…

“What, which one of us gets to go…”

[pupkashi]

“satoru put me down!”

“cmon sweetheart you know I’d never drop you,” he grins, effortlessly walking to the middle of the living room with you in his arms, “hold on tight ‘kay?” he smiles, watching as your eyes grow wide.

“wh-” you’re cut off by your own shriek as the wind around you whooshes, and you feel like you’re free falling for a second before you open your eyes again.

“whoa!” satoru cries, letting go of you for only a moment, enough to make your grip around him tighten and your eyes to screw shut again, “kidding!” he giggles, holding you tighter to his chest and placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“i thought i was gonna die!” you cry out, wiggling out of his grip and finally standing on solid ground, a new found gratitude for the floor as you cross your arms over your chest. “I am never doing that again,” you mumble.

satoru pouts at you, groaning a bit as he pulls you into his chest. “cmon baby it wasn’t so bad! you got to be carried by me the whole time!” the cocky grin on his face turns into a sheepish one when you smack his chest repeatedly. “and no traffic!”

“you almost dropped me!” you fight back, trying your best to not smile at the white haired sorcerer, “i saw my life flash before my eyes” you frown.

“technically i only pretended to drop you,” he corrects, but the look in your eyes has him standing up a bit straighter, “not that it matters, i should have never done that and i should definitely repent for my wrong doings.”

he hangs his head low, as he lets out a sigh, “please find it in your kind, beautiful heart to forgive me, my love.” you can’t help as the smile breaks onto your face, shoving him slightly. satoru is quick to lift his head, a charming smile on his lips as he looking at you through the bangs tickling his eyes.

“i guess i can forgive you,” you sigh dramatically, “just this once, next time you’re done for.” satoru nods happily, pulling you into his arms and kissing your face.

just as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, he’s moving to your ear, his breath sending a chill down your spine as he speaks up. “just for the record, I’d never let you get hurt.”

your mind is a bit hazy as he straightens out, mumbling something about there being a better view across town. you’re only snapped out of your daze when you feel his arms lifting you up, eyes wide as you realize what’s happening.

“gojo don’t you-!” the air is whooshing around you once more, and the familiar drop of your stomach has you shrieking and gripping onto your lover tighter than before.

“calling me gojo now?” he pouts, giggling when you smack him and force him to put you down. “look,” he points, watching as you turn around, mouth agape as you take in the view ahead.

you could see the whole skyline from where you stood, the sunset painting the city in hues of red, oranges and yellows. “okay, maybe it’s a little worth it,” you whisper, giggling as satoru pulls you into his chest. “it’s so pretty up here.”

satoru doesn’t take his eyes off you as he hums in agreement, “beautiful,” he replies, a smile growing on his face as you shove him.

he doesn’t care, giggling uncontrollably when he sweeps you off your feet again, laughing when you shriek as he pretends to lose grip again, apologizing in kisses and setting you down.

masterlist

a/n: hi hi just another sweet little something while i finish writing this paper due tonight </3 i hope u guys liked it :3

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[angel-of-the-moons]

Peaches and Cream

Pre-War!Cooper Howard x Curvy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Smut, NSFW, Oral (f! Receiving), reader's got some thick thighs and little bit of hair down there, overuse of pet names. (You can't tell me this man wouldn't call you a pet name at every available opportunity)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Remember that line in MK 11 where Kano goes "Aren't you a peach? I could eat a peach for hours."? I just got some body wash that smells exactly like those peach ring candies and this happened upon me like a bolt of Zeus hit me whilst in the shower today

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

Being on the rebound after the messy divorce with Barb wasn't on Cooper's priority lists. Dating one of the animal trainers from one of his movies sets was certainly never an avenue he thought he'd pursue.

But when his horse got loose on set and she ignored him in favor of you? Oh, you got his attention all right... One thing led to another, and boy did the tabloids have a field day when pictures of the two of you kissing made it into circulation.

You were used to tabloids and reporters, working on movie sets. And now, dating America's favorite heart-throb cowboy? Oh, you bet your ass if you weren't used to it before you sure were, now.

You had fallen into a comfortable routine, often staying over at his place. To say Barb was prickly about how quickly he seemed to move on was... nice. She did however like how good you were with Janey, so that eased her annoyance with you some. So, she got used to seeing you around when Cooper would pick Janey up or when she dropped her off.

Today was one of those days, Cooper had run out to see his agent about something when Barb showed up to take Janey back again. You said stiff goodbyes and gave Janey a big hug, and once they were off, hopped in for a quick shower.

Your skin was still damp and your hair was still wrapped up in a towel when he got back, looking tired and annoyed.

Cooper kicked his shoes off by the front door, Roosevelt letting our short barks of excitement as his owner patted his head, before scampering back off to lay in his bed and gnaw his beef bone in content.

You just finished pouring a glass of sweet tea when Cooper's calloused hands circled your waist from behind, briefly giving your soft belly a squeeze before his fingers bunched in your dress as he kissed your neck. "Missed ya." He murmured.

"You were gone maybe, twenty minutes." You giggled, reaching up to brush his cheek with your hand as you slipped your drink, the ice cubes clinking loudly on the glass.

"Long enough. Didn't even get to kiss my baby goodbye when she got strapped into her Mama's car." He snorted, pressing his nose against your skin, breathing in the scent of the soaps you'd used.

"Damn, you smell good. Like a fuckin' peach."

"Oh?" You smirked as his hands began to roam, reaching down the front of your dress to grip the fat of your thighs in his palms, kneading softly. You bit your lip when he hummed an affirmation, his teeth grazing your skin on your shoulder.

"Mhhm... Good 'nuff to fuckin' eat." He drawled, his tone as thick and sweet as molasses; the timbre of his voice crawling through your pores.

"If you're hungry I can make dinner." You reply breathlessly, trying to interject your sense of humor.

"Nah, darlin'." Cooper growled, yaking you by the dress so you were flush tight against him; able to feel the growing outline of his cock as it filled out the crotch of his pants, "Not the kinda snack I want."

His breath hot on your ear, goosebumps on your skin; you barely had enough time to set your glass of tea down on the counter before he began tugging you to his bedroom; the towel on your head being unraveled and forgotten in the hall along the way.

The moment his door was kicked shut he turned you around and his mouth found yours like a homing missile--all teeth and tongue; dancing, twining, tugging and messy--knocking the air from your lungs as his hands blindly unbuttoned the top of your dress, groaning when the soft expanse of your bare breasts greeted his hands.

"No bra, darlin'?" Cooper rasped, pulling back from your mouth to grin.

"'s more comfortable." You barely mutter out before his lips are on you again, kissing you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed, knocking you back while he stayed standing.

His eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle as he gave you that signature smirk of his coupled with the quirk of his brow. "Oh, you won't catch me complainin' babydoll... Not at all."

You huff and reach down, undoing the clasp to his belt, hastily trying to slide it free of the loops of his pants, but his hand stops you and you pout up at him impatiently.

"Easy now, baby." He said in a low and heavy tone, his accent emphasizing "baby" and making a shiver creep down to your toes.

He lifted his other hand to tug the buttons on his shirt free, plucking each one until his button-up was open more, revealing the white undershirt beneath.

"Now..." He growled softly as he began to sink to his knees, "Told ya I wanted a snack, darlin'... Now I'm gonna get one. Just lay back and relax."

Your heart sputtered a beat as Cooper pulled your thighs apart and just tugged your panties to the side; not even bothering to remove them before giving your damp folds an open-mouthed kiss, running his tongue along the length of your slit and drawing a shaky moan from you.

His hand trailed softly over your skin, brushing over the short mess of curls before using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back; giving the sensitive nub a nip before chuckling.

"You're awful jumpy t'day, baby." He said, kissing that sweet little pearl a couple of times, stroking it with his fingers as you huff out a whine.

"Your fault..." You groaned, daring to look down at him.

Your eyes locked and he gives you a short wink, lowering his mouth again, this time dragging his tongue up your folds slowly before moving back down again as his thumb rolls your clit in opposite tune of his mouth.

Your head dropped back onto the bed and your voice seized in your throat, one hand bunching in the sheets while the other goes to grip at his immaculately slicked-back hair, tugging the strands free as you feel his tongue curl inside of you.

Cooper was good with his mouth; both on-screen and in the bedroom, this was never a debate.

His tongue was so skilled it had your legs all but jelly one night when he parked it at the local lookout; he'd lifted the cupholder separating your seats and tugged your hips over to him, leaning across the divider to eat you out right there in the front seat of his car. You barely had enough time to grasp that it was really happening before he ripped those sweet, sweet sounds he loved so much from you.

God, were you thankful that nobody had caught you two that night; "Cooper Howard caught in compromising position at Lover's Lane" you could just imagine the press salivating at that headline if they'd caught you.

You were happy he kept his antics on set confined to his trailer... but you had a feeling somebody walking by could probably hear what went on in there.

"Oh, fuck--Cooper!" You mewled, arching your back when he slid his long fingers inside of you, his lips wrapping firmly around your clit like a vacuum, writing obscene love-notes with his tongue, drawing more and more of your beautiful voice from inside of you.

Your toes curled and your hand tugged at his hair, making him groan and his eyes roll; his voice vibrating against you in a way that had you practically sobbing.

"Jus'--fuh--fuck." You moaned breathlessly, your heart pounding in your chest, your toes curling so hard you could feel your calves beginning to cramp.

"B-baby I'm--" You hiccuped; "'m gonna... gonna..."

All your words did was spur him on further, encouraging him to flatten his tongue in one long, slow drag until he could flick your clit again, his face and hand already soaked with your mess; his eyes dark and hungry like a wolf about to eat his lamb.

"That's it baby, c'mon, give it t' me." Cooper muttered against you before stroking your clit once again with his fingers, plunging his tongue and fingers inside of you in an alternating rhythm that had your brain feeling like it was turning to liquid sludge inside your skull as your climax hit you as if it were a runaway freight train.

Both of your hands gripped his hair tight, your thighs squeezing around his head, the flesh molding around his head wonderfully as he drank down your release, his hands going around your thighs to reach up and squeeze your belly while you rutted against his mouth; your voice babbling the sexiest things he could ever hope to hear from you.

When your orgasm finally died down and your legs dropped to hang over the edge of the bed, Cooper pulled back and grinned up at you, his face slick and shiny with your juices, his hair an absolute mess.

Fuck, he looked so good like that.

"You good, darlin'?" He asked you, his hands spreading over the squishy pouch of your tummy, his fingers tracing the stretch marks that lightly etched your skin.

"I... Y... yeah. Just need a breather." You pant, your eyelids heavy as you blinked up drunkenly at the ceiling.

"Good. He hummed, leaning down to kiss your throbbing clit, grinning at how your breathing stuttered and your body twitched as he did.

"Cause I can eat a peach for hours, babydoll."

[oceantornadoo]

toxic but in love fwb!simon with some hurt/comfort

“i know your gala is important, si, but can’t you come? just this once i just want-“ you were wringing your hands, twisting them into unfamiliar shapes as you argued with simon, your situationship. you two were always like this, pushing and pulling at the boundaries of your relationship. moon and tide, destined to move each other but never close enough. “we’re not dating an’ i have a work thing. can’t come.” he shrugged nonchalantly, turning his head so he couldn’t see the pleading look on your face. instead, he pushed himself off your couch and reached for his jacket by the door. the silence in the air turned sour, some dark ugly thing created by him. his heart was a dead thing inside his chest, unable to muster a beat or two for you. he wanted to. a want so deep it ran in his blood, turning him cold. “fine. see you in six months or whatever.” your voice was stony, bitter. you reached for the tv remote and unpaused the show you two were watching, trying not to care about the sounds of him lacing his boots and grabbing his keys. you were done, done with this tug of war. you felt his stare drill through the side of your head as he put on his mask, the final bit to his ensemble. he might think that’s what got him named ghost, but it was really this, this act of playing human when he just didn’t care. he was a poltergeist in your life, knocking things out of order but refusing to show when it mattered. you were done.

one night later and here you were at your first art show, the debut of your career. dressed in your fanciest attire, second glass of champagne in your hand as you tried to network your way through the room. your feet ached from your shoes and there was an itch in your back you couldn’t quite reach, but you put on your best smile as another potential buyer went on and on about their summer in the hamptons. simon wasn’t here but it was fine. the tears you had been swallowing back for the past thirty minutes were just tears of joy at your accomplishments, nothing more. you thanked the buyer and turned the corner, finishing off your glass as you took a much needed break. suddenly a hush went over the crowd, a slight silence broken by a small quip. the room went back to normal but you went to check it out anyways, hoping it wasn’t someone making a bad comment about your work.

you arrived at the entrance and almost passed out at the sight before you. four men-no, machines, dressed in full military regalia stood in front of you. soap and gaz were already working the crowd while price was entertaining one of your donors, but your eyes were focused on ghost. ghost, who traded his balaclava for a more crowd-friendly medical mask, stood in front of you with a bouquet of carnations and a bottle of wine. you approached him slowly like you would a skittish animal, taking patient, methodical steps. “read carnations are for celebrations.” he said, almost sheepishly, as he mechanically thrust the bouquet towards you. you took it out of instinct, eyes still focused on his. “you came?” you said unbelievingly. simon was here, simon brought his friends, simon brought you gifts? he had to have been drugged or something. there was no way. “you called.” he answered, breaking out of his awkwardness. “‘m sorry for yesterday. knew i was coming, jus’ gave you a hard time. had to celebrate my girl’s first show.” your mouth dropped at that. my girl. “but…but we’re not dating?” you took a step forward, the rest of the room falling away as his gloved hand touched your cheek, brushing back the wrinkles on your forehead. “d’ya want to, lovie? was at this gala all night, thinkin’ bout how fun it would’ve been to have you there with me. makin’ fun of all those puffed up generals.” you let out a small chuckle and his back straightened, encouraged by the sound of your laughter. he loved the sounds of your laughter, your drunk giggles and your loud snorts. most especially he loved the sharp barks of surprise you made, the ones you gave when something or someone made you happy without expecting it. like now. “yes. if you’re sure.” the foggy emotions in your head were finally clearing, letting in the sun. his warm eyes caressed your face, pride evident in his face. “‘m sure.” he sealed it with a kiss to your forehead, not wanting to be unprofessional at your work event. simon felt something in his chest. maybe a heartbeat. maybe he had one after all.

—

thought of the “you came? you called” tiktok audio with this one. currently on my period so y’all will only be getting emotional stuff for the next couple of days 🫶

[bowdownperv]

I’m obsessed with morning wood.. can we have more smut❤️ u find billy sat on the sofa not in a good mood so u try to seduce him since ur so horny… u sit in his lap kiss his neck and grind on him cooing him asking what’s wrong.He moans sm 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠. Eventually then he snaps out off it and fucks you on the floor degrading u for being so desperate. Idk I have lots of ideas if u don’t like thsi I’ll suggest others 🥰

18+ ONLY

One thing about Billy is that he can be a bit of an asshole when he’s in a bad mood; and he’s almost always in a bad mood.

“Hi baby, I’m home,” you said trotting over to your unamused boyfriend slumped on the sofa.

The asshole glanced up at you and nodded.

His eyes were glued to the TV screen in front of him with one hand lazily gripping the remote while the other was settled on his thigh. You walked over to him and lifted his arms up to place yourself in his lap, rubbing his broad shoulders.

“Why are you being such a grouch?”

“You’re in my way,” he said pivoting his head around you to see the screen. Despite his unamusement, you felt his bulge hardening up under your ass. At least his dick was happy to see you.

You dropped to the floor in front of him and rubbed his shins up and down.

“Come on…play with me,” you whined. Smirking as your fingers flicked the elastic waistband of his boxers.

He groaned.

“Babe, I’m trying to watch this. Can’t you see I’m fucking busy?”

Holy shit he’s an asshole. You were going to have to give him something far better to watch. Were you jealous of the TV?

You bounced to your feet and turned your back towards him. Your fingers unbuttoned your jeans allowing you to pull them down your legs extra slow. You made sure to bend over and put your ass on full display for Billy. Reaching back to cup your ass and jiggle it right by his frowning mouth.

Turning back to face him, a moan or two may have slipped out in the process as you undid the first few buttons of your shirt to showcase your cleavage.

You crawled back onto your boyfriend’s lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your hands played with his hair making your tits bounce right in his face. You grinded on his cock and moaning at the feeling of it poking into your folds. For once since you got home today, he stopped complaining.

“I’m so fucking horny right now, Billy.”

“Touch me Billy,” you were begging. “I know you wanna touch these tits—touch my pussy—put that big, hard dick inside me.”

The man was mute. The only part of him recognizing your presence was the now solid rod between his legs. You grinded on it harder. Loving the friction of it rubbing against your clit.

You mind filled with an imaginary montage of him fucking you angrily, wet, and sloppy. How good it would feel to be thrown around and have Billy take all his anger out on your cunt. How good it would feel to finally cu-

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck Billy,” you were practically screaming as you came all over his lap. Leaving a wet stain on your panties that leaked onto his shorts.

“What the fuck, babe? You’re that horny you’re gonna cum all over my lap and I didn’t even fucking touch you?”

He looked pissed off.

Before you even had a chance to speak, Billy grabbed under your arms and set you down on the floor. Pushing your head to the floor and your ass in the air, he yanked off your panties and rubbed your swollen, wet clit. You gasped and squealed.

“If you’re gonna act like a slut, you’re gonna get fucked like a slut.”

You looked over your shoulder and watched him take his dick out of his shorts and tap it over your folds. With a brave, teary eyed face, you groaned:

“Fuck me, Billy.”

His fingers dug into your ass as he plunged his cock inside you. You squealed like a fucking animal when he bottomed you out.

“This what you want, huh? Daddy balls deep inside your pussy fucking you for being such a little brat?” He smacked your ass making it jiggle.

“Fuck me harder, Billy! Fuck me like you hate me!” you screamed as he yanked you by your hair pulling your head back as he slammed into you.

Billy was grunting loudly behind you as his hips slammed into you like a machine. His balls punched into your skin so hard they left red marks.

Billy was dragging you across the floor by your hair into his cock. Your forearms were burning red from carpet burn and your ass was red from him smacking it. Your mouth wouldn’t shut no matter how hard you tried. You were squealing and moaning involuntarily from your stomach. Your pussy already bruised and swollen from Billy’s cock forcefully tearing into it. Not giving it anytime to accommodate to his size. The walls of your pussy losing their elasticity as he fucked it mercilessly. Tears began streaming down your eyes from the pleasure as you whined.

“Daddy finally gives you his cock and you wanna cry? Can’t take the cock you fucking begged for?”

“Please Billy—fuck!—i’m gonna cum!”

“Make that little pussy cum baby. Show me how much you love my cock fucking destroying you.”

Billy unleashed one hand and rubbed it on your swollen clit. Only making you cry harder. Your pussy was visibly red from the overstimulation.

“Oh, fuck, fuck fuck I’m cumming!” you screamed squirting all over his cock and abs.

He smacked your pussy with his two fingers and brought them to his mouth. Pulling your head back so he could look into your eyes while he tasted you.

“Taste so fucking good baby. If only you weren’t such a brat daddy would make you cum more often.”

“Please daddy, I need your cum.”

You reached your arm back trying to grab his dick with your hand.

“This what you want, baby,” he asked stroking his dick with his hand. “Want daddy to fill that tight little cunt up til its overflowing?”

“Yes please! Fuck me, cum inside me!”

“I don’t know sweetheart,” he sighed. “When you act like such a brat it makes it hard for daddy to want to cum inside you.”

“Please,” you were begging. “I’ll do anything. I’ll be a good girl just give me your cum! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t say sorry to me baby, say sorry to my cock you were desperately humping on earlier before cumming all over it.”

He turned you around to face his wet cock.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly said before he slid it in your mouth making you shut up.

“Okay, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna use his cock to teach you to behave, alright?”

You nodded frantically with his cock still tucked between your lips.

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl while daddy uses your mouth as his fuck toy. And you’re gonna be quiet, okay?”

“Mhm,” you hummed slobbering all over his cock.

Billy grabbed onto your ears and pulled your face Ito his cock so your nose was brushed up against his pubes. You could barely breathe. His cock visibly protruding from your throat as held your head against him balls deep. You looked up at him with tears streaming down your eyes and saliva pouring out from your mouth and around his cock. Billy looked down at you and smirked, pinching your nose shut so you were forced to suffocate.

"Pathetic thing, aw," he cooed patting your cheek.

“You’re my little slut, huh? Daddy’s gotta stuff his cock in your mouth to train you to not be so needy.”

Billy unplugged your nose and pulled out as you gasped desperately for breath, wiping your mouth.

"I'm not done with you yet, slut," he demanded. "Lay on your back with those pretty tits hanging out."

You did as he said. Scared of what the consequences would be if you didn't.

"Thatta girl," he praised. Billy kneeled down in front of you so his cock was hanging over your head leaving a shadow. It looked absolutely giant and intimidating.

"You're gonna earn daddy's cum, alright sweetheart?"

You nodded slowly. Scared for what was to come.

Billy chuckled and wrapped his hands around your jaw. Forcefully dragging your whole body up into his cock. You gagged uncontrollably with waterfalls of spit pouring out your mouth and onto the floor.

"Good, good girl," he chanted.

Your lips let out tiny shrieks. Drowning from his cock and your own saliva. He time he pulled you by your head into his lap, he'd give you an evil smirk and sometimes even blow you a taunting kiss. Sweat from his forehead dripped down onto you.

"Oh, fuck baby," he cursed out. His grip on your jaw getting tighter and his thrusts sloppier. You could feel his cock pulsing in your throat demanding for release like a kinked hose.

Your hands slapped the floor desperately. Unable to breathe. Unable to think. Pleasure and pain mixing into one lust-filled concoction.

"Almost there," he soothed. As if he was trying to comfort you from the pain he was putting you through. Your breaths were fast and shaky. Falling apart bellow him only gave him more power. Only made him want to cum harder.

"Shit!" he bawled out. You felt one string of cum shoot down your throat, shortly followed by several more, each seeming stronger than the last. Billy quickly pulled out as he watched you squeal and squirm with his creamy load pouring out your mouth. He couldn't help but flash a devilish smile when watching you suffer with a throat filled with his cum. Billy stood up proudly and marched towards you, still on the ground, with his softening cock swinging between his legs. A drop of pre cum hitting you in the face as he walked. You expected him to pull you up, comfort you, help you get cleaned up. Instead, he ended up in the same place he was when you first found him: On the couch with the TV remote in his hand.

[pickingupmymercedes]

hello! can i request “you told me you’d be careful!” with lewis? it reminded me of the story he told on hot ones about almost drowning when he went surfing once 🫠🫣 but you can make it about anything of course ❤️❤️

Honestly, his adventures are equally as exciting as they're terrifying. But then again, skydiving does sound fun to me, so maybe I'm not the best at judging him

Anyway, hope you like this, I got a bit carried away❤️❤️

"You told me you'd be careful!"

The sun started to dip on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Y/N stretched languidly on the balcony of the rental house, the crashing of waves a soothing soundtrack.

She'd spent the afternoon catching up on work emails, a necessary evil that had stay back at the house while Lewis and his friends had, yet another, surfing day.

Laughter drifted up from the beach, Lewis's voice in the mix, warm and animated. She couldn't help but smile, even after all this time, laugh was still just as infectious.

A few moments later Lewis came to greet her, his loose hair wild and a grin plastered across his face. He was a vision of sun-kissed skin and tousled hair, the picture of carefree happiness. His movements light and carefree.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around her in a bear hug. "You missed all the fun!"

Y/N laughed, returning his embrace. "Glad you had fun. You guys must be starving."

He nuzzled his face against her neck, his touch lingering a little too long. "Yeah, absolutely ravenous. But I think we can wait a bit"

Something felt…off. Lewis had always been affectionate, but not the possessive kind, and specially not the kind to cling to her like he was doing.

"Alright, lovebirds," a voice called out from behind them. "Don't monopolize the balcony all night."

Daniel, stood by the door, a mocking grin on his face and Lewis chuckled, finally releasing her.

"Just catching up, mate," he said, slinging an arm around Y/N's shoulders. "Come on, love, let's go grab some dinner."

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, good food, and stories under the starlit sky of the restaurant. But even amidst the haze of holidays, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Lewis's touch remained unusually persistent, his gaze lingering on her a little too long. Almost…cloying.

The guys that had joined the surfing trip also kept dodging questions on their day, always a nonchalant “it was fun” regardless of who asked.

When they finally retired for the night, the weight of it all was dauting. Lewis, already half-asleep, nuzzled closer to her. He was clinging to her skin at that point.

"Lew" she said softly, her voice laced with concern. "Is everything alright?"

He mumbled a drowsy reply, but Y/N persisted. "No, really. Something feels off."

He blinked, seemingly surprised by her comment. "Off? How so?"

"You're being… clingy," she said gently, trying to unravel the knot of unease twisting in her stomach.

Lewis's playful demeanor evaporated. He stared at her for a long moment, then nuzzled his face against her neck. This wasn't the relationship they had built – they could trust each other to talk about things, problems and their fear, but he seemed set on hiding whatever was going on in his head.

Pushing him away slightly, Y/N held his gaze. "Lewis, seriously, what's going on"

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flitting away briefly before meeting hers again. "I hm…" he mumbled, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Lewis," she said, her voice firm but laced with concern. "Look at me. Tell me the truth."

He sighed, the goofy smile finally fading. "Alright," he admitted, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. " I had a bad wipeout … a bigger wave than I anticipated."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Bigger wave? Lewis, you promised you wouldn’t do anything stupid…" she trailed off, unable to voice the terrifying question hanging in the air.

Lewis met her gaze, a flicker of fear still lingering in his eyes. "I got caught in the undertow. Took a mouthful of water… thought…"

He didn't need to finish the sentence. The raw vulnerability in his voice, so uncharacteristic of the usually fearless man she knew, spoke volumes.

"You told me you'd be careful!" she exclaimed; her voice sharp.

He flinched at her outburst, a wave of regret washing over his face. "I know, I know. I messed up. I should have listened to the guys that knew the area. I…"

He trailed off; his words replaced by a heavy silence. Shame hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Y/N knew anger wasn't the answer, not at that point. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down.

"Come here," she said, her voice softer now. She pulled him wrapping her arms around him, his body melting into her embrace.

"I'm just glad you're here." she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

He held her tighter, burying his face in her shoulder. "Me too, Y/N. More than you know."

Y/N kissed his forehead gently. "Just promise me you'll be honest with me."

He pulled back, gazing into her eyes, his expression a mixture of gratitude and love. "Always," he vowed.

______________________________________________________________

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[angelyuji]

seafood, see food!

happy halloween and also happy last day of kinktober!!

eddie brock x venom x f!reader

tw // she/her pronouns used, kidnapping, implied noncon, monster/creature-in-the-woods symbrock, yandere content ahead

minors dni!!! 18+!!!!!

you had started your hike an hour ago, excited to see the waterfall your friends had been raving about. however, after following the wrong path for an hour, you ended up stranded with no cell phone connection, no food, and no person in sight. you turned the map once more, looking for rest station, “maybe i was holding it wrong…” you mumble, head aching as the map only got more confusing. you take a breath and fold the map back up, continuing to follow the path. you walk into the forest for another 5 minutes when you hear a branch break. you stop, straining your ears to listen. your heart pounds as you notice the trees shake one-by-one before stopping at a tree behind you. you hear an animalistic growl from above and you take off, sprinting down the path, veering off to lose the animal. the voice in your head screams at you to run faster as the growls get closer. you can feel tears dripping down your face, blurring your vision. you try to wipe your face when you slam into a large warm chest. you scream as you fall back, spraining your ankle on the way down.

“oh god, i-i’m so sorry.” a hand reaches out to help you up. you look up at the man, taking in his half-naked appearance. chiseled jaw, tattoos down his arms and chest, and a rough beard. he looked exhausted, anxious, and soaked. “you alright?” his voice was soft, as he grasps your elbow to help you up.

you try to stand but pain shoots up your ankle, you hold onto his bicep, “s-something’s trying to k-kill me.” you sob and the man keeps you steady with an arm falling around your waist.

“woah, woah, what’s trying to kill you?” he looks around. you try to point behind you and he looks around. “i don’t see anything… but let’s find some shelter just in case.” he gives you a small smile and you nod, sniffling. the two of you start walking and after a couple minutes of silence, he speaks, “eddie.” he looks at you, “m-my name. it’s eddie.”

you manage a small smile as you limp, “(y/n).” he opens his mouth to respond when you feel a drop of water fall onto your cheek. eddie wipes it away, but you start to feel more fall. “shit” you look around, hoping to see some kind of shelter, and spot a cave in the distance. “eddie, over there.” you point towards the cave. he nods and picks you up. you let out a startled noise as eddie sprints, trying to get out of the rain as fast as he could. the two of you duck into the cave and he settles you onto a relatively flat rock.

“you okay, sweetheart?” eddie kneels down to look at your face, you feel your face warm at the nickname and you nod. he sighs in relief, “good…” he looks out at the pouring rain, “we’ll have to wait for the rain to stop.”

you look out, lips pursing in annoyance, “yeah…” you sit back against the wall of the cave, the exhaustion catching up to you.

“you should sleep. i’ll- uh- wake you up when the rain stops.” he gives you a reassuring smile and you barely got out a thank you before you dozed off.

“she’s perfect”

“no.”

“eddie, i am hungry. you have been starving me for days.”

“she- i like her. you-you can’t eat her.” … “i’ll let you eat the next person we see, i swear. just… not her.”

“fine. i won’t eat her.”

“thank y-”

“however, i am still hungry. so what will you allow me to do?” you peek an eye open as you watch eddie whisper to himself, you hear him continue to argue to the air before huffing and relenting.

“fine. just… make it quick. the rain looks like it’ll stop soon.” he turns and you quickly shut your eyes tight.

‘keep your breathing even, (y/n). don’t let the crazy stranger you basically followed into a cave know you’re awake.’ you start to feel yourself panic at the realization. the rain continued to steadily pour outside.

“you awake, sweetheart?” eddie’s smooth voice crawls into your ear and you feel a hand on your thigh, your breath hitched at the feeling.

‘shit.’ you open your eyes slowly, pretending to just wake. you fake a yawn, testing your ankle as you stretch, “h-has the rain stopped?” you try to smile, wincing in pain.

eddie sits back onto his heels, putting your hurt foot onto his thigh. “no, the rain doesn’t seem like it’ll stop for a while…” he looks at you, eyes filled with worry. you try to pull back, but he grips your calf. “ankle still hurts?”

“y-yeah, but it’s fine. i think i can walk now.” you try to move, but eddie keeps his hold firm.

“no, it’s not safe.” he shakes his head. he starts to massage your ankle and you feel tears start to fall. he looks at you, worried. “hey, hey! it’s fine, just go back to sleep. i’ll wake you up when-”

“NO.” you start to hyperventilate, using your other leg to shove eddie off by the shoulder. he falls onto his butt in surprise. “i want to leave. now. i am going to leave now and-and you can’t stop me.” you grip the wall, pulling yourself up. eddie’s face wilts, hurt painting his face.

“i know you’re scared. i’m sorry.” he stands up, turning away from you to face the entrance. “i really would’ve rather done this when you were asleep.”

“done- done what?” you carefully move along the wall, keeping your distance. you pause as you see black tar start to envelop him. “what the fuck…” you watch as the black goo completely encases him, your head tilts up as the creature towers over you.

“hello, pretty.” it turns to look at you, giving you a sharp toothy grin. “our dear eddie was keeping you all to himself…” he stalks towards you, you limp back. “but at the end of the day, there is nothing eddie loves more than to share… with me.” he leans forward and you cower.

“p-please don’t. p-please don’t k-kill me.” a sob rips out of you as the creature opens his mouth. it barks out a loud laugh.

“i will not kill you.” his tongue stretches out to lick up your face, tasting your tears and leaving behind saliva. you shiver at the feeling. it grins as it’s face opens up. you watch eddie’s eyes shine with glee, “we am going to make you feel very, very, very good.”