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lookingattoys-blog · 2 years
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Rarest masters of the universe figures
Rarest masters of the universe figures
Rarest masters of the universe figures There are several rare Masters of the Universe figures that are highly sought-after by collectors. Here are a few examples: “Pre-Production” He-Man: A prototype version of the He-Man figure that was produced before the final version was released to the public. “Pre-Production” Skeletor: A prototype version of the Skeletor figure that was produced before…
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worldsover · 1 year
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Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin
length ✦ 10k
genres ✧ it's a lot of oral, but hey, there's plot too; friends-to-lovers!Heejin
✦✧✦✧✦✧
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Your fist clenches in a tight ball.
"If I die because of you, you better feed my fish."
"Die? You're being ridiculous," Heejin says.
You have a lot you could retort in that moment. Such as, "Me, the ridiculous one?" Or, "I'm being serious, I'm gonna actually die." Or, "You're actively contributing to the degradation of the meaning of language if you're claiming my suffering as ridiculous and assuming I'm participating in the honorable but currently inapplicable trope of hyperbole." All these things you can say, and you're without audible retort. This is the fourth time today Heejin's lips encircle your shaft; you were past dry by the third, because she would not let go of your cock for five minutes after your climax (because you didn't stop her).
Heejin's eyes beg, her lashes flutter, her tongue tempts, slithering, slick, and you think maybe you can spare her one more load.
Her mouth slips smoothly from the base of your cock to the head and then, pop. One big bubble of spit. She adds more, saliva foaming up on her tongue that's sticking out and toying with your tip.
"Don't die? Pwease?"
How ridiculous—or you could transcend to immortality at her behest.
All the while, she's sucking your dick in this bathroom like it's mere leisure for her. Like cigarettes to a smoker, she's blowing you like smoke, dirtying her throat, burning you up. Far past dignity now, the only thing she has between her knees and the floor is a bunch of toilet paper. The picture of addiction she paints is unfortunate and raw honesty and vivid contrast between such an elegant woman and such an inelegant solution to hunger. Despite how cavalier and practiced she is about introducing your tip to her uvula, Heejin will never give you a tidy blowjob. She salivates, every time, her tongue a wicked beast of its own, a serpent that can't lie above its love. And on the other hand, you can grumble and grouse all you want—if Heejin says your cock is going in her mouth, then…
You should've seen this coming like how you don't see yourself cumming because your eyelids are wired shut by the pretty agony of this orgasm. When you open them, her (fake, important to make the distinction) glasses are covered in streaks, her hands still twisting, tongue still licking your underside. Determination in her eyes says that every drop will be wrung out. It's possible this isn't leisure, but rather, business, and cum margins are getting lower as damnable inflation rises. She'll squeeze you dry for every last dollar of semen, no apologies to the sperm banks.
When Heejin is done, she sips on your cockhead, then a final kiss. You slump over the toilet and she pats your shoulder, laughing; it's a mean-spirited chuckle, but your dying wish is to hear that laugh one last time, so good on her for the penny of kindness she could spare like an insurance company donating to a hospital.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"How could anyone love sucking dick that much?" Jinsol asks.
You look at Jinsol, then look at Heejin. Then, look at Haseul, and look at Heejin again. You've never gotten used to this dynamic. How much are you supposed to interject between three drunk girls talking? Are you meant to at all? The topic has already gone off-course, and there's no captain to steer the ship back when you're six bottles down.
Your eyes fall on Heejin, then Haseul.
"Oh, man," Heejin says, downing a shot. Her hand falls around her cleavage, as she feels the warmth of the alcohol envelop her and shudders, eyes closed. "Do you really want to get into this?"
Look at Jinsol and Haseul as they laugh, and you join in laughter, and you look at Heejin again; now, she's serious, rolled up her sleeves for good measure. Let's address the whole looking at Heejin thing, because it's so apparent, even to your drunk ass, that it must be apparent to the others too—you asked her out a while ago, first year of college, rejection, but you're still friends now. Then, despite that, she started getting touchier, somehow more flirtatious. Drove and drives you fucking mad. This little hangout thing at Haseul's place is a long ways away (call it half a year) from getting four oral sessions in a day, though you remember it as being a pivotal stepping stone to the routine.
Focus. You're always putting on a performance, and the actors of the nerves of your brain are having trouble getting the script from the filing cabinets. Question: is it more or less suspicious to allocate, say, three glances toward Haseul and Jinsol each to compensate?
"Sure," Haseul says, still giggling to herself. She's been doing that ever since asked the first question. "What's so wonderful about getting your jaw sore and your mouth dry?"
Heejin makes an angry noise and says through gritted teeth, "It's not about that, obviously. There's so much more to sucking dick than the…" She gestures with her arms, unable to find a word.
"Why do you like it, Heejin?" you ask. Everyone stares at you. "Sorry, nevermind."
"No, no, it's fine," Heejin says."Lemme just, how do I put this? It's like, when you're sucking dick, you feel like you're controlling the dude. You decide when he gets hard, when he gets wet, and when he cums."
"So, you're a sadist," Jinsol says.
"Sadist, my ass," Heejin retorts. "It's… empowering. Sucking dick is empowering."
Huh. The alcohol fizzles and dies in your mind, and Heejin's deep voice echoes in your head to take the place—oh, Heejin is fucking wasted, by the way. Drank as much as the other two combined, but still standing (sitting), but barely.
"Weird," Jinsol replies.
Haseul crosses her arms, facing Jinsol. "Hey, don't kink shame."
"No, no, you don't get it. There's another reason," Heejin continues, verging mad by now. Her cheeks are turning red. "Dicks taste good. Taste amazing, even. And… dicks have faces."
Haseul spits out soju. Jinsol coughs soju. You're lucky you weren't mid-drink.
"Dicks have faces?" Jinsol and Haseul say together.
"Y-yeah," Heejin says, her face flushed. "Dicks have faces. Like, if you suck on the head a bit, you can see different expressions. If you lick the underside, you can see them smile. If you swallow deep… they cry."
Your pants tighten. Somehow, you get it.
She says quietly and quickly, "Oh and also I like the taste of cum. Alright, fine, I really like the taste of cum." She gets louder. "Fine, okay, geez, I LOVE the taste of cum! Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Everyone bursts out in laughter. Heejin sips angrily on soju.
"Alright, Heejin," you say. "That was quite an enlightening explanation."
"Shut up, you," she says, sternly.
You gulp.
Haseul and Jinsol go get snacks from the kitchen, leaving you and Heejin alone.
"Dicks have faces, huh," you say.
"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"
"Not a chance. You know, no one made you say all that."
Heejin grumbles. You try to get closer, but she puts her hand on your thigh.
"You've got a boner," she says. "Stop."
"Wha? What do you mean?"
"Stop." Heejin stares at you with a serious face, contrasting all the redness in her cheeks.
You don't know where to start with a response.
"It's just, I don't wanna make things weird"—too late—"and obviously all this girls' talk has you riled up or whatever"—by the way, Heejin's hand is slinking higher up your pants—"and I know it's not your fault, but, we're friends, and I don't wanna ruin that."
"S-sorry."
"Good boy."
Heejin had to look in your eyes while saying that one, huh?
You clear your throat, and all efforts to tame your second brain fail. Another drink. It's agonizing, waiting for Haseul and Jinsol to return. Then, Haseul and Jinsol return. Snacks. Too little, too late. There are probably other conversations as the night goes on, but your mind is already spinning from the alcohol, spinning even further at dirty thoughts incepted by Heejin. Eventually, Haseul and Jinsol conk out, and Heejin helps you carry them to Haseul's room.
"Heejin," you say. "I can carry them myself."
"Yeah, I know. Isn't it usually Jinsol who passes out last?"
You would scoff at Heejin's remark, though with your mind elsewhere, you just nod. After you lay Jinsol and Haseul delicately on the bed, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, where you jerk off furiously. You've never tugged yourself without a video in tow or some other material to assist, and you've never felt this urge drunk, but the mere concept of Heejin sucking off your cock like she needs it is enough for you to cum. Mark this as the inevitable inciting incident: the door swings open as you pump your last shot.
You make eye contact. Heejin blinks. Cum flies.
"Uh," you say.
"Woah," she says.
You say nothing.
Heejin closes the door.
"Shit," you mutter and you've used too much toilet paper wiping down where you shot and you're fumbling and you almost trip over yourself and—goddammit, what the fuck just happened. Once you clean yourself off, you go outside.
Heejin is standing there.
"It's fine. Don't sweat it," she says.
"I… I don't know if I can. You know. If I can, like, not sweat it, fuck." You sigh. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing. Look, I'm gonna take the bed in her other room, you're fine with the couch right?"
You're drifting in and out of consciousness on the couch when Heejin shakes you awake.
"Huh?" you say.
"You know, I lied."
"About what?"
"Sucking dick having faces."
You blink. You rub your eyes.
"I lied. Dicks don't have faces. Cocks have personalities."
You're too tired to say anything. You just stare at Heejin. You smell a bit more alcohol on her shirt.
"Well, no, I mean, it's true, dicks have faces. But also cocks have personalities."
You think, but no words come out.
"The difference is, um, when a cock has personality, it has preferences and stuff. Like… preference for speed, depth, and tightness. When a cock has personality, you can tell when it likes and doesn't like what you're doing."
You nod off.
"Like, I could tell you would really like if I take all of you in my mouth. You definitely look more like an intimate, slow deepthroat kind of guy, you know, instead of the facefucking, gagging thing. It's like MBTI, yeah, that's it. Your cock is definitely an I, not an E. Oh, maybe a lot of tongue action? But not in the teasing the tip for the whole time sort of thing. Or, am I wrong? What kind of blowjobs do you like? Because you have the kind of cock I wanna tease, and the kind of dick I wanna kiss and why did you waste that load on a tissue, like are you kidding…"
Your eyes are closed.
A woman's deep voice. "Right. Well. Anyways, it's pretty late, and we're both drunk. So, uh. Good night. I guess."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You wake up. Sunlight. Snack wrappers. Haseul and Jinsol nowhere to be found, or awake, rather. Heejin is next to you on the couch—no, you're hugging each other—actually, she's draped over you like a blanket, and your erection is pushing against her ass.
Heejin wakes up.
"Shit," you say, getting up. "I'm sorry."
"Didn't I tell you to... ugh, whatever."
You sit on Haseul's couch, rubbing the sleep and hangover out of your face, crust out of your eyes. You stretch, hearing creaks in your bones. Heejin sits up, looks forward.
"Last night," she starts. "I might have said some, uh, crazy things."
You snort.
Looking at you, she frowns. She doesn't seem hungover at all, not a bead of sweat on her forehead. Her hair is perfect, as are her pouty lips.
Your brow upturned, you scoff. "Like, crazy? That's one way to put…"
There's a twist in those lips now, like she's running it back in her head; now you are too.
"I mean—yeah, that's the right word, but..."
She's still staring at you, and your mind's really running in circles and sure she laid out the track herself but you could just run off it at any time.
Oh, you're following the track still? "It's, just, I'm, I'm sorry for, what I was, you know, doing. Last night."
Heejin sighs. "I told you. Stop apologizing. It's fine."
"Okay," you say.
You make an excuse to Heejin about getting home, despite wanting nothing more than to spend time with her. What's the point of hanging out when it's just going to make your crush on her worse.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
When you get home, you end up jerking off three times in a row in your own bathroom, but at least you aren't interrupted any of those times. 
A few days after the party, you've been thinking about Heejin's joke a lot more than you should.
The worst thing is that Heejin is being all chummy with you again like nothing happened. You wonder if she's doing that on purpose. Either way, you've learned that you need to distance yourself. You've been avoiding group hangouts. You haven't answered your texts in a couple days. You've avoided the pet store the both of you always visit, instead opting to support local businesses like—insert large delivery corporation here (no free advertising)—for your fish food. This goes on for a week.
The week ends when Jungeun comes to your house.
"What?" you say, lounging, staring at air bubbles floating to the top of your little aquarium.
"Don't 'what' me," Jungeun replies through the closed door. "Open up."
"No."
"Look, I'm here because Heejin is really sad, and so Haseul wanted to know why you're not talking to Heejin, and I volunteered because I could tell Heejin really wants to see you and not just talk to you."
"Jungeun, I don't know."
"Listen. I'm not leaving."
Ten minutes later, Jungeun is eating potato chips in your room.
"So… why are you avoiding her?" Jungeun asks.
"What does she want to say to me?" you ask.
Jungeun pauses. "She… told me to tell you to go see her."
You sit on your sofa next to Jungeun, grabbing chips out of the bag. They're your chips.
"She didn't tell me to tell you what exactly it is, but it's important," Jungeun continues. "But honestly, what's been up with you?"
"Nothing's been up with me. I'm the same guy."
"That sounds like someone who has not been the same guy."
You eat more chips. "And how are things going with you and Jinsol," you say.
Jungeun stops slouching. "Hey, don't try and change the subject. For the record, it's been going fine, thank you very much."
"Sounds like you're still in the friendzone."
"You're the last person I want to hear that from."
"Me, the last person? I'd assume Jinsol would be the last person you want to hear that from."
"Fine! Just stop being a dumbass, okay? Heejin really, really wants to talk to you."
You put your hands up. "Okay. You win. I'll talk to her."
"Awesome." Jungeun looks down at her phone, then looking back up, she smiles. "Oh, by the way, Yerim just texted me, she finally finished exams for the semester. What if Heejin and Yerim both come over? We can get everything out of the way, two for one deal."
You sigh. "Yeah, I guess."
She pats you on the shoulder.
You feel no less comforted.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Two for one deal, your ass. You're pacing around your bedroom. Yerim and Jungeun are playing Smash in the living room, and Heejin is… somewhere, probably. The door is shut. All the noise in the world is muffled. You don't know what to expect. Obviously, Heejin needs to talk to you; you're her friend, one of her best friends, and you've been ignoring her for the past week. You sit down. Take a deep breath.
Knock, knock.
"Come in," you say.
You sit on your bed. So does Heejin. You look away. Look down. She smells really, really good, sweet and warm. You've missed her, a lot.
"Hey," Heejin says.
So she's talking first. "Hey," you respond.
You were already loosening up your tense shoulders, but Heejin says "So, Mr. Dickface" and you laugh and you look at Heejin, casually stunning in a simple outfit, a white tee, black shorts.
"Heejin, come on. It's been a week. I swear I would've forgotten if you didn't bring it up."
She pouts.
"Okay," you say, "alright, I would have not forgotten, fine. I still can't believe you. Dicks having faces."
She laughs now.
There's a lull in the conversation. The sound of Yerim shouting and buttons mashing is barely audible. You turn to face Heejin, and she's still looking at you. Her eyes are… soft, vulnerable. She's holding herself.
"Listen," Heejin says. "I'm sorry if I've been weird these past... mmm, months? I know you're not dumb, and I guess, I've been treating you like you are."
You whisper, "I am dumb though."
"No, you're not." She scoffs. "I'm sorry, seriously. We're friends. And friends don't lead each other on and play games"—the sound of a cheer coming from outside the room, definitely Jungeun—"okay, well, they do, but friends don't keep their friends wondering."
"Wondering?"
Heejin sighs. "Let me just get this off my chest. So, yeah, I like you. A lot. Obviously, you've liked me since the beginning. Or, well, loved. When you asked me out, I was excited and nervous and confused, but I... You know me. I've got a million things going on at the same time. Dating as a possibility didn't even cross my mind."
"Yeah. I get it. I don't blame you for that. I guess if we're both laying it all out, I get it. I swear I do. It's that dynamic that always fucks up a friendship between guy and a girl, and I think it's good we got that question out of the way early. But like, I was shocked, obviously, when you started touching me so much, holding hands, sitting on my lap, hugging me." You pause and look away. "It felt good, but it also felt wrong. Like you were playing with my feelings."
Heejin reaches out and takes your hand. "I wasn’t playing with you," she says softly. “I was playing with myself"—half a giggle comes out of you, adding some levity, and she smacks your shoulder—"No, not like that. What was I saying? Right, I guess I was trying to figure out what I wanted."
"Right." Your head hangs again. "So what? I'm just a bystander? A side effect?"
"Yes."
She laughs, squeezing your hand. You pout.
"I'm kidding. You're more than that. Way more. I've learned that much by now."
Heejin takes a long pause.
You can hear breathing, neither exhalations nor inhalations matching pace. It's tense.
"You know what else I learned? Because there's something else on my mind right now. Sort of, sparking in my head, shouting. I know we're having this whole heartfelt thing and I'm sorry for ruining it, but I have to say this because you have a boner and it's springing in your pants and I might be drooling or something—fuck. I've learned that I love sucking dick. A lot. Okay?"
This is the first time you've seen Heejin get so flustered, so bothered. So are you.
She isn't looking at you, yet she continues anyway: "Well. I have to be honest. That's all hypothetical. You know, I've never actually done it. I've just thought about it. A lot. And, obviously, you know, cucumbers turn to dildos and other toys and stuff. And then I saw your dick. And now I've thought about your dick and keep thinking about it."
Your heart skips a beat.
"Yeah." Heejin starts nodding, gaining confidence. "Yeah. I'm certain now. And please, don't think you're taking advantage of me or something, because you're not. In fact, I want you to take advantage of me."
Your breath stays in your lungs.
"How about this," Heejin says, leaning in more. "Do you wanna… fuck around? Or, well, I mean, that's a crass way of putting it. Be my partner in crime. Suckbuddy. Fuckfriend. Whatever you call it. No strings attached. You want a blowjob? You'll get a blowjob. That kind of thing. Even if it's not dating or whatever, we just do what we want to do and we can figure it out later."
Your smile grows slowly. "You know what? Sounds good to me."
"That's it? I drop all that in front of you and you're just, 'sounds good to me'?"
"Okay, fine. Here. I forgive you. That good?"
"Actually, that helps." Heejin exhales, a sigh of relief. "Great."
Silence. Cleared throats. The both of you sit closer now. Her knees bump into yours, and she giggles. She holds your hand. Your eyes meet. You're holding her gaze and her body heat is emanating from her skin and you want her, badly.
"You look handsome today," Heejin whispers. "Have I told you that lately?"
"No," you say, quieter, feeling meek. "You haven't. Thank you."
Her free hand brushes strands of hair.
"Your hair, so cute," she says, happily humming.
Heejin scoots even closer as her knee nudges between your legs.
"Nothing to say? Mm… okay. I have a question."
"What is it?"
Heejin kisses you, immediately catching your lips before you can breath, a taste of chocolate-tinged lip gloss, as her tongue mingles with yours. Her hand lays over your bulge, and her leg is still bumping into your crotch. She pulls away.
"Wow. You're kissing good," she says, flustered.
"No, you're better at it. Amazing. You're amazing."
"God, you're sweet." She laughs.
Your mouths are together again. You pull her into a hug, and she squeals.
"Woah there," she says.
"Sorry. Got a little excited."
"It's fine." Heejin looks away. 
You squeeze her harder, and she squeezes you harder. You break the hug.
"Hey. How far," Heejin starts, "do you think we want to go?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, right now. In the moment. If I'm reading this right, and I think I am, you really, really want me. So how far? Are we just gonna kiss this time? Or do you wanna go a bit further? A lot further."
You freeze. "Honestly, you decide."
"You sure? Because, if I had it my way, I, um, I don't think I'll stop sucking your dick until Yerim finally wins a round and they wonder where the fuck we've been."
Your eyes are wide. "Y-you're really picturing that, aren't you? The two of them barging in while my cock is down your throat."
She does not reply.
"You are unbelievable."
"I can't help it," she says, almost whining. "You have the sort of cock I really want to play with."
You pull Heejin back into another hug, kissing her. She pushes you onto the bed and straddles your thighs. Her body heat, her scent, her hands caressing you. This is the first time you're feeling this much of her body against your own, and it's incredible. Even better—much, much better—is when she lifts up her shirt, revealing a simple, black bra. She takes her shirt off completely, and your hands grab at her stomach. How many times have you watched her do ab workouts for an ungodly amount of time, hoping one day you could feel her six-pack for yourself? Your hands then trail up higher, until you're grabbing at her tits, still ensconced within the confines of a bra, but her breasts are heavenly, perky, waiting to be squished and bounced on your hands.
Heejin has other designs for you: she grabs both of your wrists and pins them to the bed above your head. Your pants are tenting, and she grinds against your cock. You moan.
"I love seeing you like this," Heejin says. She lowers her torso onto yours, breasts spilling out of her bra a bit. She grinds harder, and you moan again. "You're so hot, and you're all for me. God, I wanna… fuck around so much."
She backs up, dragging her crotch down your leg as she descends. When she reaches your foot, she sits and puts it between her legs.
"Shit, Heejin," you say.
She bends over to kiss your neck.
"Your foot… feels good. I'll never say that again, so don't you dare make fun of me."
"Wouldn't dream of it. You can always tell me what you like."
She's rubbing her crotch against your ankle and taking your shirt off. Her lips move down to your nipple, licking circles around it.
"Your cock… feels big," she says. She grabs at it through your pants. "I'm so fucking excited for the real thing."
You've imagined this moment so many times. You'd fantasized about being pinned to a bed, about being teased by Heejin, of course, but you didn't expect, couldn't ever picture how she'd really sound, how she'd actually feel, how it would feel to be touched, licked, kissed by her. And yet here she is, biting on your nipple, moaning herself as she uses your foot.
She lets go. "Your… chest is so nice."
"Uh, thanks."
Heejin smiles and returns to biting, but on your other nipple instead. Her next pecks and licks are on your own abs, tracing over your six pack, following the ridges and dips with her tongue. She takes your waistband in her mouth. Slowly, she pulls down. You lift your hips, and then your pants are off. Heejin drags her cheek against your cock through your underwear, eyes closed.
"Your scent… is amazing." She licks the fabric along your length, where it bulges. "Mmm, this is what I'm talking about."
Your cockhead is poking out of your waistband. She kisses it, and then sucks on it through your underwear.
"Heejin, take it… off."
She stops, eyes wide. She pulls your waistband with her mouth, and you lift your hips again. She tugs it down, your cock sprinting out.
"Oh, wow," she says.
"W-what is it?"
"Your cock… is really, really gorgeous."
You gulp. "Thanks."
Heejin takes your cockhead in her mouth. You close your eyes. She swirls her tongue around the tip. She bobs down, lips wrapped around your shaft. Then, pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand.
"Is this… okay?" she asks.
"More than okay. Really, really, really okay."
"Good." She jerks you off, her spit easing the friction.
"Shit, Heejin."
"God, I love hearing you say my name."
She moves faster, your cock slick in her palm. She alternates between fast and slow. One second, she's going quick, and the next, her hand is barely moving, and your cock is twitching in her grasp. Her thumb strokes your underside.
"I… love teasing you," Heejin says. "I love making you beg for me to go faster."
"Please, go faster, then."
"You're so cute." She goes slower. You groan.
Heejin moves her grip to your balls, stroking your underside with her thumb again. Her other hand grabs the base of your cock. Her mouth returns, sucking on your balls. She's pumping up and down.
"Fuck, Heejin, please… go faster."
"Again."
You gulp. "Please, Heejin, go faster."
"Good boy."
Her hand speeds up. Your balls are getting sucked, her tongue licking around them, and her other hand is jerking, and it's like she's milking you. Your climax is imminent. You warn her.
"You're gonna make me cum."
Heejin pops off your balls and takes your cock out of her hand. She lowers her torso.
"I've been waiting so long for this," she says.
She swallows you.
Her tongue is slathering your shaft, and she's bobbing down, and her lips are tight around you. The tip of your cock bumps into the back of her throat. Her hand is caressing your balls. Her other hand is pumping the rest of your shaft. She comes up, taking a deep breath, and her eyes are watering. You wipe the tears away. She smiles, as if she's satisfied with having gagged on your shaft, as if she believes with her heart of hearts her own doctrine, and in such resolve of her mouth returning, you can't deny it.
Maybe her jaw hurts. Maybe her throat's dry. But you sense none of it. Deeper, you hit the back of her throat again, and her lips still curl up into a smile even through more tears. She's still pumping, and her other hand is pinching her nipples. Heejin moans. Her moan vibrates your cock, and her moan vibrates her throat, and her moan vibrates her tongue, like, holy shit, you've never felt anything better. And then…
"Heejin, I'm… cumming."
She stays down. You shoot. Her eyes widen. Another shot, and her eyes are closed. Another shot, and you're groaning, and her throat is swallowing. More shots. You're pumping Heejin full of your cum, and she's pumping you empty. Heejin, relentless, keeps sucking. You try and push her off, meteors dancing in your mind, but she won't budge. She stays down, her eyes still closed.
"Heejin, wait, wait, I'm so, so sensitive."
Heejin shakes her head. With her mouth still full, she says, "Wah, want… ahll."
You collapse. Heejin keeps sucking. Your cock is twitching in her mouth, and you try backing up in your mattress until you hit the headboard. You grip the sheets. You can't stop cumming. Every suck Heejin takes is another shot down her throat, each one joined by a satisfied "mm, mm", and swallowed without hesitation. You lose track of how many shots you pump into her. Even when you stop spurting semen into her mouth, and your orgasm is subsiding, Heejin stays down. She moves her lips from the base of your cock up to your tip, and she sticks her tongue out to cushion the underside of your shaft. You're shaking. You can't stop shaking.
"Heejin," you say—no, you gasp it; you croak it out; you despair for the name, "wait."
She does just that. Wait. With your cock in her lips like a popsicle, and she's waiting for you to melt. She breathes through her nose, humming to herself. You shudder. Your cock is still sensitive.
"Please… wait."
Heejin listens. She doesn't suck, and she doesn't bob. She waits. Your orgasm is over. Your mind is fading.
Pop.
She sucks the tip. Pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand again. Her tongue sticks out and licks up your shaft, where all the leftover cum and spit and saliva has gathered.
"Ahh." Her tongue is covered in white cream. A gulp. "Ahh." Her tongue is clean.
If you need a few more breaths, unfortunately you've used up all the air already, and you're just running on whatever other fumes now. "You… are insane," you say.
She giggles. "Was it that bad?"
"No, no, no, it was… the best. And the worst. A-are you gonna do that every time?"
"Do what?"
"Never mind."
Heejin crawls on top of your body. Your cock is nestled between her thighs. She lies on top of you.
"Did you like it?" she asks.
"Yes."
"Do you wanna… keep being fuckfriends with me? Suckbuddies? While I talked all the game about blowjobs, I wouldn't mind if you gave me a little oral service once in a while too." She says quietly, like she's felt bashfulness for the first time in her life, "And, I, um, am down to do more too. A little later. Or something."
"Of course. Yeah."
You wrap your arms around her.
"Good," Heejin says.
She kisses you. Your cum is on her lips, and she's sharing the taste with you. You taste yourself. It's nothing terrible, but she did gulp your load down without stopping, so, you can't fully empathize with her enthusiasm. Still, you reciprocate, savoring Heejin instead.
You hear cheering from outside the room.
"Think Jungeun won," Heejin says.
You snort. "Should we… go out? Pretend like nothing's changed?"
"I'm sure we'll figure something out."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You and Heejin end up deciding not to hide anything, but not telling the girls either. They'd find out sooner or later, and besides, you'd both want to brag about it, eventually.
After the three of them say their goodbyes and leave your house, you head straight to your bathroom. You thought Heejin's lips fully drained you dry, but apparently not, because you shoot more loads thinking of how her throat swallowed you.
You receive a text from her.
> miss you already ;)
You smile.
> Miss you too. can't wait for next time.
Heejin sends a photo. A strand of spit falls from her lips, down to her cleavage. Your heart skips a beat.
> neither can i <3
You save the photo.
Your phone buzzes again.
> don't jack off to it though
> Too late.
You send your fingers and shaft covered in cum.
She sends a photo again, of her frowning.
> wtf!! that was my load! i'm gonna kill you!!!
You laugh and send a text with your other hand. 
> Love you.
> lol yeah yeah whatever
You send another photo of your cock.
> another pic. As my apology
> wait.... didn't you say you just jerked off
> yeah?
> and you're still hard?
You gulp.
> guess so.
> you're such a stud. come over. i'll help you with that
You can't get dressed fast enough.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You meet halfway. A park, late at night. Fastest option, you're both too horny. You and Heejin are behind a building, some sort of community center, too late to be open or for the sun to shine down on the two of you being so daring outdoors.
Heejin's lips are on your neck, bound to leave marks, but you can't find yourself caring. Her hand is massaging your balls over your shorts, her other hand is down your underwear pumping your shaft, and her thigh is grinding against your cock. She kisses you.
You grab her jaw and pull her off you. "Um, I'm sorry. I, um, I think we might wanna establish some ground rules or something."
She stares at you, wide-eyed. "Ground rules? Like, safewords and stuff?"
"Uh, I guess, yeah. I just… I don't know, it'd make me feel more comfortable if, you know, we had some boundaries."
Heejin sighs. "Fine. Fair. Makes sense, I guess. I'm not a huge fan of… talking about feelings and stuff, but, I get it."
"Right, so, um, obviously, no feelings, and, I dunno, no dating?"
"Yep. You can see other girls. I'll see other dudes. Nothing serious."
"Sure. Yeah. Okay."
Heejin continues pumping your cock. "Anything… else?"
You gulp. "Safeword, I guess. And, like, is there anything you're… not okay with?"
"Um, not sure. Never thought about it."
"Okay, well, what's a word you hate?"
"Hmm… dick."
You blink.
Heejin giggles. "Just kidding. Um, I dunno, uh, penis? Cock? Uhh… sausage."
"Sausage?"
"Yeah. Sausage."
You pause. "And if, you know, I can't speak?"
"Tap three times on me or whatever. Three for sausage. Sounds good?"
"Yep. Three for sausage."
"Great. Anything else?"
"There was one thing in particular I was thinking about. So like, one time, I nutted seven times in a day."
Her mouth starts to water. "Really?"
"Yeah."
Heejin pumps faster. "That's… amazing."
"No, but that's the thing. I gotta set limits, Heejin. Even this, third time, it's, it's a lot. Too much."
She frowns. "What, so… no multiple nut sessions?"
"Once a week. Maybe."
"Fine, fine, okay. Once a week."
"Okay, cool. Ground rules established. Sausage as the safeword. No dating, seeing other people. Three times for sausage. One nut session a week."
"Got it." Heejin resumes pumping your shaft.
"Hey, Heejin, um, what do you want me to… do, when you're blowing me?  Anything you want? Because it feels like I'm just"—she gets on her knees—"kinda doing nothing and"—she pulls your shorts and underwear down—"you're doing"—she puts your cockhead in her mouth—everything, see!"
Pop. "Yeah. I dunno. Don't worry about me. Focus on yourself."
"Wait, Heejin, but, aren't we partners in crime, fuckbuddies, whatever, I wanna, like, make you feel good too."
"I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Dickface." She jerks your shaft, and your knees buckle. You figure you might as well sit on the concrete floor, your back slumped on the brick wall. It's a makeshift position that you'll learn to get used to. She lowers her face to your crotch, then continues, "But don't worry. Feeling your cock cum is enough to make me feel good."
Heejin licks circles around your shaft, where the precum has gathered. Her hand is pumping the rest. Your cock is already twitching.
"Besides," she continues, "if you focus on me… we'd never get anywhere."
Pop.
She swallows you.
"Heejin, shit."
Her bobbing is relentless. She's pumping your shaft and massaging your balls, and she's deepthroating your shaft. Her spit is drenching your cock, and her lips are tight, and her tongue is slathering. Heejin's bobbing up and down, and your cockhead bumps into the back of her throat. Your balls clench. You shoot.
Pop.
Heejin takes your cockhead out of her mouth. Her hand is jerking, and the first shot hits her lips. The second, she opens her mouth to catch. The third, she closes her lips. The fourth, she catches in her mouth again. The fifth, she swipes up with her tongue. The sixth, she catches. The seventh, she misses, and your cum lands on her cheek. The eighth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her chin. The ninth, Heejin opens her mouth, and your cum falls right in. She gulps. The tenth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her neck. Heejin's pumping slows.
"That… was… amazing," you say.
Pop. "Yeah."
"Fuck. I'm just saying. Next time, I'm going to get a taste of your pussy." You open your mouth. "See, my mouth's watering just thinking about it."
"Yeah?" She jerks your shaft. Another shot lands on her neck. She wipes your cum and sticks her finger in your mouth. "You're adorable. But you're right. Next time."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
The two of you had ramyeon at a convenience store after, then said bye. Like friends. Just friends.
The next time is two days later, at night again. This time, you finally go to Heejin's apartment. You haven't been here in a long time, not since she moved in. It's cleaner than you remember.
"Make yourself at home," Heejin says.
You sit on her couch. She sits next to you. You kiss. Your hands are groping her breasts, and her hand is pumping your shaft. You lift her shirt, and her tits are freed from her bra. Her nipples are hard. You pinch them.
"Hey, wait, stop, stop," she says.
"Sausage?"
"N-no, I'm… fine, just, wait."
"What is it?"
"Um, so… I kinda… made a mess. Earlier."
"What… kind of mess?"
She giggles. "On my bed. You'll see."
Heejin leads you to her room.
"Holy shit," you say.
"Surprise?"
She's made a mess, alright. Sheets stained white, spots and splotches, streaks and trails, the whole nine yards. Your cock twitches, even if you're confused how one woman could make such a mess on her own.
"I was, um, thinking about sucking your cock all day yesterday. I didn't wanna touch myself, but I couldn't help it."
"I'm glad."
Heejin lies on her bed, pulling her shorts and underwear off. Her pussy is glistening. She spreads her legs.
"Come. Lick it."
"I've been waiting for this." You crawl on top of Heejin's body and put your face between her legs. You lick circles around her slit. You lick up and down her folds. "I don't exactly have toys to practice on like you... so I'm gonna need to do plenty of catching up."
"Don't worry. Practice away."
You lick circles again, and Heejin's quiet. You lick up and down, and she's quiet. You flick her clit, and Heejin's quiet. Your tongue is slathering her slit, and she's quiet.
"Wait, Heejin, is… everything okay?"
"Yeah. It's fine."
"What is it? Is my tongue rough or something?"
She looks at you. "Oh, no, no, not at all! No, it's, um, your technique's, uh, kinda lacking."
"Ah. Yeah, see."
"Here, I'll show you."
Heejin sits up and pushes you down. She's straddling your face.
"First," she says, "spread my… my lips. Like this."
She spreads her labia.
"Then, you wanna, kinda, stick your tongue inside, like, deep."
Heejin uses her finger to spread herself wider. You stick your tongue inside her hole.
"Now… use your thumb to, like, rub my clit, and move your tongue around. Like, you're, um, writing, something, with your tongue, I guess. Inside me. Like, a, um, circle. Shit, I dunno."
You rub her clit. Heejin moans. You lick circles inside her hole.
"And, uh, yeah, that's… about it. Oh, and, move your, your finger and thumb. Not at the same time. And I'll grab your hair and move you around and I guess just tell you what to do. And then you can figure it out after that, right?"
"Yeah. Got it."
Heejin lies back down. You spread her lips. You stick your tongue inside her hole. You rub her clit. You lick circles inside her hole.
"A little lower. And, and, like, lick, not circles, but, a, like, a line. But not a straight line. An, um, I dunno, a diagonal one. But not a diagonal one. A, uh, a curve, but not a curve. Um."
You lick lower. You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve.
"There. Yeah. That's… good. Keep going."
You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve. Heejin moans. Your tongue is still licking, and she moans, and her hand is on top of your head.
"Use your, your thumb, and, and, like, stick your index finger inside. Like, curl your finger and, and, find my, my, um, g-spot."
You rub her clit. You stick your index finger inside. You curl your finger. Heejin moans. Your tongue is licking diagonally, but not a diagonal. Your index finger is curling, searching, and you find her g-spot, a soft patch inside her walls. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Heejin moans again.
"Add… another finger."
You stick your middle finger inside.
"Curve both, both your, your fingers. Both fingers."
You curl both your fingers.
"And, and, like, twist. But not twist. Rotate. But not rotate. Uh, fuck, um, shit, I dunno, uh, fuck, whatever, just, um, fuck, uh, wait."
You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You curl both fingers. You rotate, but not rotate. While you're going through advanced mathematics under a tutor under a slightly lust-drunk stupor, you're starting to understand both sides more. On the one hand, your mouth is indeed going dry, and your jaw is starting to hurt. On the other hand, you're drooling. Whatever taste Heejin's pussy has is starting to get really addicting, enough for your cock to stay hard the entire time, enough for you to ignore the fatigue.
"Add… another finger."
You stick your ring finger inside, which immediately earns a moan from Heejin. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Your fingers are curled, rotated, twisted, whatever. Heejin moans again. You're rubbing her clit.
"Fuck, more, more. Rub my, my, rub my clit faster. Fuck, lick faster."
You speed up. You curl your fingers. You rotate them. You twist them. Heejin moans again. Her hand is tight on top of your head. Her body is trembling. You move your free hand and press it onto her stomach to keep her still. Your three fingers are thrusting in and out of Heejin's pussy, and her hips are buckling. Her walls are clenching. She moans, a final time.
Heejin lets go. You lick. Your fingers are thrusting. Your thumb is rubbing her clit. Heejin shudders. More gushes of cum coat your tongue and fingers. She's going to drown you. You understand how she made that mess. Your three fingers are pistoning in and out of Heejin's pussy as her climax subsides. More gushes. More. Less. Some.
"Wait," she says. "Hold… hold it. My spot."
You stop rotating, twisting, and whatever-ing. Her walls are fluttering. Your three fingers are still. Her girl cum is trickling out of her hole.
You take your face off Heejin's crotch.
"Holy… fucking shit," she says.
"Wild ride?"
"That was… amazing."
You flex your fingers. "Yeah. Didn't know you could squirt like that."
"Neither did… I."
Heejin props herself up. You stick your three cum-soaked fingers in her mouth. She sucks. She moans. You stick them deeper down her throat, and her lips are wrapping. Her eyes are closing.
"Thanks for… teaching me," you say.
Pop. "Mmm. Of course."
Your three fingers return to her pussy. You pump, and her girl cum is slicking your fingers. Heejin lies back down. Your three fingers are pistoning again. She moans.
"Wait, wait, sausage, sausage!"
You stop. "Shit, sorry."
"It's fine, it's fine. Just, sensitive."
"Got it."
Heejin giggles. "Sorry. Sometimes… I squirt a lot. Um. Overstimulated."
"Well, at least you know how I feel."
"Wait, was that a sausage moment, because I feel so bad and—"
You interrupt Heejin with a kiss. "No, it's fine. In fact, it was really fucking hot, and besides, I already told you about how much I can cum. Oh yeah, by the way—" another kiss, because there is no such thing as too many with Heejin "—I kinda wanna see the toys you were talking about."
"Really?"
"Yeah. If that's… cool."
She smiles. "Sure. Lemme, lemme clean up first."
"Alright."
Heejin cleans her bed with tissues, and you help her wipe up. Then, you head to her closet. She opens it, and… holy shit. There's an assortment of vibrators and dildos and g-spot stimulators and other contraptions and tools, almost an entire shelf dedicated to sex toys.
"This is… incredible," you say.
"Hey, um, by the way, could you, um, close your eyes?" she asks. "I, um, dunno, it'd… feel less embarrassing."
"Sure."
You close your eyes.
"And, like, turn around."
You turn around.
"Okay, okay, so, um, these ones"—you hear plastic tapping against plastic—"are just the vibrators. These ones"—plastic tapping again—"are the dildos. And then… um, these ones are for g-spots, and, and then there's more for anal, and then… um, I dunno, basically, um, the rest is stuff I've gotten on impulse because it looked fun."
You snort. "Impulse, huh?"
"Shut up. Um… open your eyes."
You turn back around. Heejin's holding a Hitachi wand.
"Okay, so, like, this, this is probably my favorite. Wand. Magic wand. And then"—she puts it back and holds a simple, white vibrator—"this is the, um, the next one." She puts it back and holds a curved, purple toy—"then this. Um… this is, this is the biggest"—she puts it back and holds a monster of a dildo—"um, and then, this is the smallest." She points to a cute, pink bullet vibe.
So many questions flood your mind, but the only thing you can blurt out is, "Impulse purchases, huh?"
Heejin shoves you. "Shut up! Um… and then, this"—black anal beads—"and, um, this"—clear, pink butt plug—"are for anal. Obviously. And then, um, basically, I've, um, experimented. A lot."
"Experimented, huh?"
She shoves you again. "Stop… saying huh!"
You wrap Heejin in a hug. "I'll say huh as much as I want."
"Whatever. Um… anything you wanna… try?"
You gulp. "C-could I watch you use them?"
Heejin steps away. "Wait, really?"
"Yeah. I mean, if you're comfortable. Like, right now. Or something."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Really."
Heejin sighs. "You… absolute pervert."
"You're the one with"—you point to her shelf—"all that."
"Fine, fine. Um, sure. Which… do you wanna see me use?"
You gulp again. "So, um. You said you practiced sucking dick on one of them right? Imagined it was me?"
She rubs her thighs together. "Y-yeah."
"Which… was it?"
Heejin reaches for one. She holds a flesh-colored dildo, about the length and girth of your own cock.
"This one," she says.
"Then, that one, please."
She nods. "Okay… sit on the bed. Get comfy."
Heejin puts the dildo on her bed and closes the closet door. She undresses completely, tossing her clothes to the side. Your cock is tenting. She returns, picks the dildo, and then she lies on her bed next to you.
"So… you, you just wanna watch me use this? Suck on it and stuff?"
You nod. "Yeah. Please."
Heejin bends her legs and spreads her thighs. Your cock twitches. Her free hand rubs her slit. She's spreading her lips.
"Shit, Heejin, you're so hot."
"Thanks… pervert."
She sticks the dildo inside her hole, and you love watching how her pussy stretches for it. Especially knowing your cock will be doing the same soon. That image makes you harder, enough for you to pull down your pants and start jerking.
"Heejin, would, would you… talk? Your voice is so pretty."
Heejin blushes. "Thank you. What do you want me to say?"
"Just, like, anything. Tell me… what you're imagining. What you're feeling.. Your fantasies."
Heejin gulps. "Um, o-okay."
Her free hand is rubbing circles around her clit. The dildo is slowly pumping in and out of her hole.
"Sometimes, um," she starts, "sometimes I imagine… it's you. Inside me. Your cock. And, um, usually, we're, we're doing missionary, and, um, your hands are on my tits. Pinching my nipples. Wait, come here. Pinch my nipples."
You follow her command, sitting closer to her so you can grab a nipple with one hand while your other jerks faster. Heejin moans. You jerk faster.
"Oh, god, mmm. If I could keep your gorgeous fucking dick in my mouth all day I would. I'd suck it every second. God, I'd, I'd wake up to it. I'd go to sleep sucking on it. Hnnh. Your hands… are making me feel really good. Or we could cuddle and watch a movie, and the whole time you'd be... fuck, you'd be slowly sliding your cock in and out of my asshole. Mmnh. God, and, maybe we'd have friends over, and you'd fuck me from behind, and no one would know. Shit, especially when we're at Yerim's, you could take me to her really nice bathroom and rail me in her really nice shower. Mmm."
The dildo speeds up, and her clit rubbing is speeding up. Your jerking is speeding up too.
"Or we'd go out to eat, and, fuck, you'd finger me under the table, and then, and then you'd order dessert, and instead of eating the real thing, you'd feed me your cock, and I'd cream myself. God, shit, your hands. Mmfh. Or, or, sometimes I imagine, we're on the couch, and Jungeun and Jinsol and Haseul are hanging out, and they're just chatting away, and I'm sucking your dick, or you're fingering me, or I'm warming your cock in my pussy, and no one would know. Shit. Or they do know, and they pretend like I'm not even there on my knees sucking you off. Fuck."
You're about to cum. "Shit, Heejin, keep going, I'm so, so, so, so close."
"Nngh. And I'd even—wait, d-don't waste that cum yet." She takes the dildo out and moves closer to you. "Feed me. Put it in my mouth."
You do. Heejin's jerking the rest of your shaft, and your tip is in her lips, and she's pumping, and her spit is slathering. You groan, and she moans, and a shot fires into her throat. Her jerking doesn't stop. Another shot, and your mind is fading. Another.
Pop. She's gasping for air, trying not to spill the load as she speaks. "Ahh, waih, feed me, hah, some cum, wifh your hand."
You take your cock out of her mouth, masturbating some cum onto your palm. Once your climax eventually subsides, you offer your hand to Heejin, and she makes eye contact as she slurps up your seed and licks every joint of your fingers.
After she has every drop she can get in her mouth, she looks up, gargles, and then gulps. "Thank you for the meal."
You sigh. "Jesus, you're crazy."
"Only for you."
You kiss. "I'm honored."
"Um, by the way, can I finish?"
"Yeah, of course."
Heejin lies back down and picks the dildo. Her free hand is rubbing her clit again, and the dildo is pumping in and out of her hole.
"Hold on," you say. "Could I… use the wand on you?"
She stops. "Really?"
"Yeah. Unless it's sausage time."
Heejin giggles. "No, no, it's fine, just, um, lemme… get comfy again." She gets on all fours, and you move to a squat, holding the wand in one hand and the dildo in the other. "And, um, don't turn it on the highest setting. Not yet."
"Got it."
You stick the dildo inside Heejin's pussy and move the wand to her clit. You turn the wand on, and the sound of buzzing fills her room, followed by a moan from Heejin.
"Tell me more fantasies," you say.
She tries her best to give you everything she's thinking about, from bending her over the kitchen counter to tying her up and edging her, from fucking her mouth blindfolded to having a whole day where you fuck her whenever you want, free-use style. You're glad that she trusts you enough to share her kinks. You're looking forward to experiencing them someday.
Her dirty talking devolves into incomprehensible moans, and her doggystyle position is faltering, her face in the mattress. You stick the dildo deeper, and you turn the wand to a higher setting. She screams.
"Shit, sausage, sausage!"
You immediately stop everything. Heejin's trembling.
"Oh, god," she says.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Fine. Just, too much."
"Fuck, I'm so sorry."
"No, no, it's fine, just, sensitive. But you owe me."
"What do you mean?"
"Turn the wand off and give me the dildo. I'm going to cum with your cock in my mouth because that's where it belongs."
You comply, handing her the dildo and turning the wand off. Then, Heejin lies back down on the bed. You're uncertain about where to go, until she grabs your ass, pulling you to mount on top of her chest.
"There we go."
You look back and see Heejin starting to dildo-fuck herself again, and before you can look at Heejin's face again, she's already captured your cockhead in her lips.
"Oh, fuck," you say.
She moans. You jerk off the rest of your shaft, and she's moaning hungrily around you. Heejin's free hand massages your balls, and she pistons the dildo at a hearty pace, a loud, sloppy pace. As if she were imitating what your cock would sound like, if it were pounding her hole. Having painted a million pictures in your mind, and having heard her talk about so many fantasies, your mind can't help but fill in the blanks. The biggest blank is her throat.
"Heejin," you say.
Pop. "Mmm. Yeah?"
"Could I… choke you with my cock?"
She giggles. "Go for it, stud. Shoot it straight down. I don't care. It'll make me cum harder. I wanna feel my throat bruise."
You gulp. "A-are you sure?"
"Mmm. Totally. I'm gonna keep fucking myself and sucking you off and if I tap three times on you, then it's sausage time, and you stop choking me. Deal?"
"Deal."
Heejin takes your cockhead back in her mouth and moans. Her free hand goes back to your balls, and you place both your hands on the sides of her head. Slowly, carefully, you force her lips to travel past your tip, and to reach halfway down your shaft. Her cheeks are concave and your palms can feel her slobbering. Once she reaches your base, her eyes are watering. She looks up at you, her dildo fucking faster, her lips tight. You pull on Heejin's hair to move her head up. She moans. Her whole body is trembling again. You slam her head back down.
"Heejin, I'm"—she moans—"about to"—she gags, a broken vibration around your cock, and she moans—"cum!"
Her gagging, however, only urges you more to fuck her throat with your cock. Heejin gags again, and her throat walls are clenching, and a whole bunch of spit comes out, drenching your balls. The last thing you feel before your mind fades is her final whine, lost to the whole of her universe. Your spasms return, your hips shake, and this time, you see her whole body tense up—finally you and Heejin cum together, with her dildo ramming her hole and your cock ramming her throat. She's squealing and squeaking while taking your cock down to her base again, her gagging more persistent. After all her fantasies, the real thing is so much hotter than your imagination, and your brain starts painting new pictures on instinct.
Pop.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit," she says.
Your cock twitches out spurts of your seed, coating her face. Her dildo has disappeared from her pussy.
"I'm, I'm sorry, about, um, being… a bit too rough," you say.
"Are you fucking stupid?" she asks. "Do you have, do you have any idea how fucking hard I came? God, and the cum you're firing in my throat, thank you, thank you, thank you. Your cum is what gives life purpose."
You grin. "I'm glad you think that way. My cum was only alive because of your pretty little mouth, though."
Heejin licks up every streak and spurt.
You lie back down on her bed next to her. "Hey, uh, you… still owe me though."
"True," she says. "What do you want? Another oral service tomorrow?"
"Can't tomorrow. It's already one in the morning."
"Ah, fuck. Morning."
"It's fine." Your voice is meek. "Let's not do anything. For a while."
"What?"
"This is fun. And I'm sure we could come up with a million ways to jerk each other off with our hands and mouths and words. But, you were thinking it too, right? When you had that, that dildo inside of you. Fucking you. I mean, I don't, I really don't wanna pressure you, but I thought it'd be fun. You know. If we just held off of anything, sex, cumming, masturbating, all of that, and we just… wait. How about until your birthday?"
"What?! That's like, twenty days away."
"Exactly, once in a while we could do other stuff. Wouldn't it be fun to just get edged every day until then, waiting, anticipating, and when we finally do fuck, it'll be the best sex of our lives, the perfect present. I mean, you got yourself off plenty of times already. I bet you could go without a nut for a while."
"Oh, no. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"And vice versa, I guess."
Heejin grumbles. "Fuck. Fine. Deal. But no matter how much I tempt you, no matter how much you tempt me, we're not going to cum. We're gonna edge each other. No matter how hard I suck. No matter how hard you thrust."
"Deal."
You shake hands.
"Um, by the way," she says.
"What?"
"You, um, you're a pervert."
You sigh. "I know."
"But you're, um, you're a pretty nice guy. And smart. And hot. Okay, that's enough for your ego, goddammit."
"Keep going, you're gonna make me cum."
Heejin grins. "Oh, that's all it'll take, huh?"
You kiss.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You wake up on Saturday morning, having stayed the night at Heejin's place. The two of you have a breakfast of leftover ramyun, and you say goodbye at the door.
"Wait," she says. "Hold on. I forgot something."
You turn around. "What?"
Heejin kisses you. "Bye."
You return the kiss. "Bye."
You go home, and on Sunday, you wake up to a text from Heejin.
> morning. :)
You smile.
> Good morning.
You send her a picture of your cock, already hard in the morning. She sends a photo of her own pussy, spread open with her fingers. It's scintillating, dewy. Your cock twitches.
> morning wood?
> Yep.
> you know how bad i wanna suck that dick right now
> Yeah. I'm thinking about fucking your throat.
> godddddddd i love it when you say that shit
> Do you think you're gonna nut today?
> probably not. if i can't even last a weekend without cumming, i srsly need to reexamine my life
> lol. true. well, good luck.
> you too
You send a photo of your cock, with a drop of cum at your tip. It only took a token effort of stimulation to get a bead of pre-cum.
> wait were you fapping just now
> Yeah. Just a bit
> godddddd youre so bad
> Don't worry. I don't plan on cumming until it's inside you on your birthday :)
> fuck you
> I thought we were gonna save that for your birthday too :(
> shut up
You smile. 
> I miss you.
> me too
> Next week. We can meet up. See how we're feeling about this whole thing. Maybe get dinner or something.
> like a date?
> Well, no dating. Obviously. Ground rules and all.
> "k fine. sounds good
> See you then <3
> yeah yeah whatever <3
You laugh. This is going to be fun.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Happy birthday to the best girl! Once again, this falls under my time-honored tradition of incomplete-but-complete-enough stories to post for some deadline, so I'm not bothering with crossposting (okay fine I am just too lazy).
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belokhvostikova · 9 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 "𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐠"
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | A night after Homecoming has you reveling in the loneliness of your mind, but a drug dealer "meandering" his way by is there to solve your issues, especially after finding a particular toy of yours.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, mentions of drugs/drug dealing, minor comments about food, feelings of embarrassment, overthinking, mentions of mean friends/exclusion, loneliness, insecurities, and explicit sexual content: fondling, one spank, edging, orgasm denial, praise kink, sir kink, oral (female receiving), rimming (female receiving), anal play/fingering, use of sex toy (butt plug), and unprotected vaginal sex.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Everyone be honest: do you actually enjoy my writing being this long, when little to nothing is happening? I don't know, I feel like I dramatically wrote this, it's kinda comical. Also, this is literally an entire Soundgasm audio I heard, but can no longer find- the agony! All script credits to them, I’ll try to link it once I do find it! And, @strangerstilinski is a lot better at Pinterest than me, so big, loveable thanks to you for the photos!
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
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Cold and creamy, the slab of lotion smearing its enriching silk onto the skin of your shaven legs to prevent that inevitable itch in a couple days had been the only thing to smooth over your mind in the suffocating humidity of your bathroom. But even then, the sweetening smell of coconuts and vanilla couldn’t fully appease your feelings from the nagging reality of how isolated you felt from the people closest to you. 
Quinton Reeves.
For whatever reason, retired number ninety-five of Hawkins High’s baseball conference champions of 1983, still had the popularity chokehold of high schoolers, despite the matter of being into his second year of his community college career, while brandishing the golden name tag of the multiplex theater he hadn’t left since junior year. Something about giving away free tickets to greedy teenagers, that’s what made him “cool,” though utterly pathetic in your eyes. 
But unfortunately, in the eyes of swooning cheerleaders, Quinton Reeves’ “maturity” had made his Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road the main priority of your friends’ plans, after a grueling night of sore toes and itchy fabric that was the Homecoming dance. An actual celebration, where booze monitoring or debauchery dance moves couldn’t be policed by the faculty of your soon to be alma mater. Not that it was celebrating much, those green and orange jerseys adorned by the most admired only saw scuff marks with no touchdowns; yet another year of despair for Hawkins High’s athletic department. And yet, somehow a trophy-less trophy cabinet did little to sway the big egos of the prim and proper. Funny. So now, you sigh, basking in a night of a hot shower, trying to exfoliate and shave off that icky feeling in you that you knew resided deeper than superficially. 
Because while your friends drank the night away at Quinton Reeves’ Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road, you sat forlorn with a kitchen full of purchased junk food, a bathroom full of face masks, a bedside table full of magazines, and a television stand full of movies, because despite being planned a week in advance—after you conveniently got left out of Stacy Wither’s girls night—Quinton Reeves’ Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road became more important than your girls night. 
Softened skin bundled in cozy clothes, you watched your saddened reflection in the foggy mirror of your bathroom, where a squeaking wipe to the condensation allowed for pellets of water to race down the glass. Beneath the mask of green gunk that claimed to heal those pesky bumps of raging hormones on your skin, you could still see the dampen expression of your sorrow face, where you recollected the comments of your so-called friends. 
Buzz-kill. Bummer. Borning. Rummaging through the entirety of the B section of Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Thesaurus just to really cement the fact that they wanted nothing to do with your itinerary-riddled girls night. 
You splashed your face with the wake of lukewarm water. To hell with them; your skin was glowing, body freshly cleaned, your scalp free from any solid itch of hairspray, fingers and toes wiggling with a beaming white polish, and you had an assortment of snacks to rake through while ogling at Ferris Bueller, watching him have a day off with his friends who actually care. Perhaps you should take a stroll through Chicago, and catch a Cubs game. It wasn’t anything but a state away. And if you got lucky, maybe you could find Sloane Peterson’s fringe jacket in your stack of magazines. 
Surely, Ferris Bueller was cuter than any twenty-one-year-old who still spent his weekends partying with high schoolers. 
Christ, a parked full driveway. 
Eddie, four hundred seventy-six dollars richer, Munson craned his neck, ticking his tongue at the scale of which your house stood at 11:28 p.m on this Friday night. One hesitant sniff at his shirt, and he regretted the decision of not moving Samara Lawson away any faster, when the drunken girl attempted the flirtatious endeavor of receiving that twenty-five percent discount you were always accustomed to. 
Perhaps her revenge on the dealer, himself, after he politely declined with a harsh line to his lips was forcing him to reek of booze after a tight hug to ensure her chest squished against his just enough that Samara Lawson surely thought it would deduct a dollar or two. It didn’t. 
“Fucking two stories, man…” Eddie sighed, kicking the mulch of your mother’s meticulously cared for garden, as the bricks of your home seemed to drag onward for an eternity from his five foot eleven stance (six feet if you’d ever ask). 
A towel in hand, you gently dabbed away the excess water from your face, before you turned to serums and creams to gently massage your face with, hoping to ease any worry lines your friends have cost you in the wake of disappointment. Mint flavoring of stringy floss proceeded to invade your mouth, as you plucked all you could from your teeth to triumph through your oral hygiene care. Not that it mattered, though, a party-sized bag of Doritos was awaiting its fate of being empty by the time Pretty in Pink began its course of replay. 
If Eddie Munson knew anything, it was the probable fact that your bedroom could be found from the dimly lit window on the left wing of your home, where white curtains cascaded against a potential entry to your room. In the instances in which Eddie found himself in the weekly routine of taking three steps up porch and three knocks to the door, the stained glass that adorned your front door for decorative reasons always allowed him the warped sight of you appearing from the left side of the second story, before bouncing down the stairs like Yasmin Bleeth running down Will Rogers State Beach. 
And for the brief one minute and thirty-seven seconds it took to exchange the half ounce for fifteen dollars—prolonged extensively by Eddie Munson’s attempt at small talk—Eddie lavished in the bubble that was your true element. While cheer skirts became devastatingly enticing when you wore them, something about pajama pants that pooled at your feet for the entirety of being too long with sweaters that swallowed your tiny hands in comparison to his truly had his heart cinching with the tight grasp of utter devotion. 
It became the only thing that inveigled him to make the thirty minute trek across town to deliver your demands. What a surprise it was when Chrissy Cunningham revealed the dealer, himself, never offered her home visits, after too many complaints of making the eerie journey through the woods to receive her goods had you suggesting to your friend to give him the call you did weekly. But a groaned out, “You know he’d never do that; his whole ‘I don’t come to you, you come to me’ policy,” had you perplexed in the face. He had never disclosed you of that. Huh.
“For the love of God, please just let me be right for once.” Eddie huffed, as his calloused hand collected itself around the gutters that followed alongside your home, which provided him the leverage to denounce the white window sills with dirty scuff marks of Hawkins’ muddy winter sleet. 
How more pathetic could you possibly look? A frown had permanently etched itself onto your face, where a fake smile was once plastered before Lucy Coleman informed you of the fact that no one was showing up to your scheduled ‘Homecoming’s Coming Home Girls Night.’ God, you even had a cute name for it… ish. 
Freaking twenty-one-year-old multiplex ushers. 
Giving up the bathroom for the night, a trip following the banister down to the kitchen became a dangerous game of stuffing your feelings with carbohydrates you’d eventually come to regret the next morning. Your father had made the safe assumption to ignore the ruckus of opening cabinets and crinkling wrappers that appeared behind him from the living room, because eighteen years of living with you had taught him you were always one, “are you okay?” away from exploding from the angsty teenage rage that bubbled inside you. By tomorrow, you’d eventually come to him with a sadden face and wails of a hurt tummy, and just like you were seven, he’d be there to comfort you with a hearty breakfast and open arms. 
Littered posters, rumpled white sheets of little red heart, a vanity besmirched with powders and glitters, and a heavy resemblance of laundry piles that mimicked his bedroom floor—saved from the blacks and denim, only colors and lace this time. If, for whatever reason, this wasn’t your bedroom, Eddie Munson would be heavily concerned. 
With an artillery load of snacks on hand, your father followed your huffy stomps through the living room and up the stairs. “Wanna save me some?” A joke terribly unappreciated on your part, as a scowl met his lighthearted smile.
Your bare toes dug into the carpeted steps to solidify your displeased mood. A little dramatic, and unserious, but only targeted to your flippant father, who found amusement in the little jabs that made your face crease like your mother’s. The actual hurt and betrayal that lingered within was still discreetly churning in your belly with the fretful epiphany of how lonely your friends made you feel. 
But as mentioned, that’d be a discussion for tomorrow morning, when you could cry into your scramble eggs. 
One step at a time, the view of your bedroom door—cracked, and flooding the hallway with the mustardness of lamps—came to light, as a guttural sigh left your mouth as a “fuck you” to the stir of messes you felt, pounding at your head with no mercy, as if the shitty friends you had wasn’t enough, they were capable of making you feel horrible, awful things. 
Yeah, fuck yo- “Ah!”  
Bags of chips and wrappers of candy avalanched down the doorway of your bedroom, as Eddie Munson’s already large eyes rounded to the ghastliness of yours, hunched and frozen in stance of that of a burglar, and suddenly Eddie was coming to the realization of how utterly creepy he looked.  
“Sweetpea?!”
“Hon?!”
A call from the living room, a call from your parents’ room; your mother and father’s voice boomed with concern of what could be another dramatic yell fueled by teenage temper or actual danger. But Eddie’s surrendering hands, with a look of desperate apologies that had to go unspoken unless he wanted to be caught by your parents had made it apparent that Hawkins’ local drug dealer who wandered about with a gaudy jewelry and hair you’d like to braid had little to offer when it came to harm. 
Also, the way in which his fretful finger was comically signaling to his prized lunchbox had let the understanding of business ventures finally hit you. 
“S-Sorry! Um, giant spider!” Stifling their consternation of any imminent danger, Eddie cracked a tiny smile, before treading down to your feet to pick up what he caused to drop in the first place. 
One after another, your pile of snacks were now being examined under the scrutiny of your drug dealer. “Friends coming over for a sleepover or somethin’?” 
Insulting. “No.” You mumbled with a particular sass he hadn't usually been indulged in, that had him quietly chuckling. God, him and your father would get along. 
Sat aside on your bedside table to be feasted upon when cute, unwarranted company couldn’t witness the giant devour, you quietly closed your bedroom door, and stood watching Eddie Munson awkwardly swing his arms. 
“You’re probably-”
“So, um-
“Oh, I’m sorry, go ahead.” He encouraged you with a tight-lipped smile.
You shrugged, and sat upon the edge of your bed. “I was just going to ask why you snuck into my room… at this hour.”
Eddie cleared his throat. “No, yeah, um, I realize how weird this must be, but, uh,” his eyes gallivanted to the notable furniture that adorned your bedroom—bookshelf, arm chair, desk—to avoid the knowing look on your face he’d have to be met with, because for whatever reason it was, it was now just painfully dawning on Eddie Munson how terrible of a move this was. “Well, I was just heading home, passing through the neighborhood,” lie, “and realized you weren’t at the party- Reeves’, I mean, you weren’t at Reeves’ party.”
And you truly gave the man, himself, little to offer with your subtle, “yeah,” that would force him to grab a crowbar to pry what little information he was willing to take for the night if it meant you’d just keep talking to him. 
“Just, uh, all your friends were there, bought from me n’ all, but, um, I don’t know, just kinda figured you’d be there with them since you always are.” He mustered out, as his eyes rapidly jumped about to scan the movements of your body. “And, well, didn’t see my number one customer.” 
And Eddie smiled, as your heart began pattering with stirring feelings that had your throat tightening with disbelief. “You came to check on me?” So softly spoken. 
“No, no.” Oh. How more embarrassing can this get for you? He might as well point and laugh in your face for being so lonely. “I-I, um, thought I could, uh, drop off your usual, y’know, squeeze in some extra cash.” Of course. “I saved you some.” Eddie patted his battered box. 
He watched your body deflate, and suddenly he wondered why he went that route, when it clearly caused the frown line on your face to deepen. “Right, um, thanks.” You sighed. Junk food and weed? At the very least, you could be high when crying tonight. 
One second to open your bedside drawer, but another second halted by Eddie’s voice that stopped your movements from stretching to reach for your wallet inside. “I- y’know what? Free of charge.” He propped open the metal lid to grasp onto the reserved baggie of the usual half ounce, before placing the lunchbox down to hand the substance to you. And he read you confused look quickly, as your hand hesitantly graced his fingers to take the goods. “Just, um, loyal customer, figured I should give back.” 
“Eddie, you already gave me a discount, I really don’t mind paying.” A promise to indemnify him for all that he already did. 
“Ah, well, you should, because I’ll be terribly offended if you do pay me.” He broke a smile that had your shoulders slumping with relaxation. “Just, uh, gotta let me hang here for a minute, if that’s okay with you.” 
“You want to stay here?” 
“Food, weed, and your company? C’mon, what kind of man would I be to pass up that opportunity?” And thankfully, that was enough confidence to have you shyly giggling before him. “Just a little break before I head home, I guess.”
“Had too much fun partying?” You teased. 
“Think I would’ve had more fun if you were there.” Oh, no. Pattering heartbeats, and now fluttering butterflies disrupt the peace of your tummy, as Eddie stared down at you. “Mind if I sit, uh, next to you, or over there, or wherever?”
You nodded to his request, complying by moving to the center of your bed, where you and Eddie sat back in the bundle of your rumpled duvet and pillows. A pregnant pause consumed over, as Eddie chose to linger in the silence to get a good view of the knick knacks that disheveled your room perfectly, and you admired the glow in which his profile became illuminated by. With bouncing eyes, it became the shiny embroidery of gold italics on the velvet sash that read “Homecoming Court” that paired cheaply with the tiny, plastic $3.99 Party City tiara that had dug into your scalp for the three hours you had to endure that night that caught Eddie’s attention. 
“You win?” He abrasively asked. 
“Uh, no.” You quietly answered. “Chrissy Cunningham got the bigger crown.” 
Eddie nodded along. “Figures.” He added. “She’s sweet.” 
It was your turn to nod, as the lips concaved into your teeth, while your fingers rustled with the plastic baggy in hand. “Yeah, she is.” 
“Kinda boring, though. Don’t you think?” He tossed his head back to meet his eyes upon yours. 
“Chrissy?” 
“No- well, not really, I mean Chrissy winning, y’know? Carver, too.” He clarified, as he watched your face with the suggestions he was making. “Like, why even vote- or hell, go to that shitshow if we already know who’s going to win? At the very least, throw in a curveball. Like-Like, Johnny Katowski.” Eddie laughed. 
“The kid from chess club?” You quietly giggled, as Eddie sat up.
“Yeah, him!” He declared. “How great would it be to see a kid like him winning Homecoming King, I mean, he may have bitched me out when I knocked into his lunch table and messed up his little figurines-”
“Pawns?”
“Yeah, pawns.” He laughed. “But the point is, why not give some other people the light, y’know?”
“Oh, well, Johnny Katowski is a really nice person, but I think he’d be too shy to enjoy everyone staring at him.” You quietly spoke, as you fiddled with your fingers under Eddie’s stare. “But, um, other people like you?”
“I meant other people like you.” Eddie smiled. “I’m too good to be king.” He joked, as you laughed at his cockiness. “I’m sure that dance would’ve been better if you had won, ‘s all. Just like the party.”
Your brows raised with gentle curiosity. “Oh, did you not have a good time at the dance?”
“Oh, no,” he waved you off, “didn’t even go. Dances aren’t exactly my thing, sweetheart.” 
You softly giggled. “You didn’t go to the dance, but you went to the afterparty?”
“Can’t exactly sell my supply on school premises, Y/N.” Eddie jokingly protested. “And even so, you went to the dance and not the afterparty.” Like tightening rope around your throat, your gut was hit with the simple analysis Eddie concurred. Though rather obvious, it somehow manifested worse coming out in the words of others around you who clearly saw the disconnect between you and your friends. Sure, a little more information would solidify it, but in the overworking mind of intrusive thoughts that made up your mind, Eddie’s phrase managed to concoct the notion that all of Hawkins High was now acutely aware of the fact that the ties of friendship with the girls closest to you was now being severed at the hands of no longer wanting you. “Hey, you okay?” His face lowered to catch yours, only to quickly move as you suddenly cleared your throat whilst straightening your comfortable posture. 
“Yeah, yeah, just a little tired, I guess.” You mumbled, providing him a small smile to end whatever prodding he was about to dig into. You no longer wanted it. 
“Oh.” He spoke. “Um, you want me to leave, leave you alone?”
“No, no.” You assured him. “It’s okay.” 
Another silent pause. Eddie Munson laid his cards on the table. A, he could cut the awkwardness short, and be on his way back home, sufficed with the fact that he, at least, got more words out of you than the usual “thank you, here’s your money, see you next week” routine, that he’ll be stuck with for the rest of the school year, until you inevitably leave for college- I mean, good for you, but then he would be stuck with a whirlwind of what if’s that would eat him alive, all while you got the live your prosperous life in god knows what city, where some dude who actually had to balls to make a move on you would get the honor of being called your boyfriend. Deep breath. Or B, he could just be a friend right now, because it really looked like you needed one. 
“You’re sure you’re okay?” You slowly peered up at him. “I mean, like, you’ve always been kinda quiet, just, y’know, from seeing you around, but you seem a little more down now. Like mime quiet.” He smiled, eliciting a worn giggle from you. “Just feel like you have something to say, but you’re not saying it.”
“I…” you sighed, “it’s really stupid, Eddie.” Because suddenly sitting back with Eddie—whose personal life details were spread around town for the sake of small town gossip to enact who could and could not associate with the shunned of Hawkins, Indiana—your problems felt entirely too small. The last thing he needed was to be drowned by your superficial problems. The last thing you needed was to be judged for feeling the way you did, when Eddie Munson would give the reality check of a lifetime, and tell you to grow up. “Yeah, just, um, really miniscule things that I don’t, uh, wanna annoy you with.” You attempted to laugh off.  
“I asked you.” Eddie stated matter-of-factly. “You’re not gonna annoy me when I’m literally asking to hear you, sweetheart.” He chuckled in disbelief at your resigned behavior, baffled by the notion you could even believe anything about you to be bothersome. “C’mon, just say it, say it with your chest, just lay it all on me. Can’t do any good to keep it in, no?”
Eddie Munson had quite the knack of being a cute motivational speaker, as your giggles caused by his coltish self seemed to abate the linger tussle of depressive hesitancy in your mind. “It’s just… y’know, my friends, n’ all.” A hearty grunt of agreement coming from Eddie had you laughing through your words, as his face of distaste for your friends made it easier to speak. “Like, I just know they-they don’t want me- or, at least, it really feels like that. God, Eddie I rented out all these movies, bought some face masks- which are really expensive, by the way, and these damn snacks, ugh. Why-Why is some lame party more important than my plans, than me? They just don’t care! And I get I’m more quiet than them, but why does that mean I have to be left out of everything?! A-And, y’know, they always say I’m a bummer, but they don’t think about the fact that they make me a bummer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love shopping just as much as the next guy, but knit-picking everything that’s wrong with how a dress looks on me isn’t exactly going to make me an ecstatic person, y’know?!”
Eddie Munson used to be able to count the number of words you spoke to him on the fingers of one hand. And right now, that was, at least, twenty-five singular hands. And the thought had him smiling in the distance, when in actuality, that stagnant pause was an invitation for him to speak, as per a normal conversation. So it became that very smile that had your stomach flipping with ignominy at the fact that your overthinking thoughts were transpiring right in front of you: Eddie Munson thought your problems were laughable. 
A quiet “huh” was all he had to say.
“Well?” Your face, unfortunately, contorted with desperate validation. “You think it’s stupid, don’t you?” Almost accusatory, but in all seriousness, his lack of words were only cementing the scary thought that infested your head: you were the problem.
While deliberating, Eddie was really trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, he really was. But for the love of god, why were you allowing these people to have this much sway over your life? Three days ago, Courtney Keller, co-captain of Hawkins High’s cheer team, who conveniently sat a desk over in Eddie Munson’s English literature class thanks to Ms. O’Donnell’s tyrannical assigned seating, was overheard asking if Romeo and Juliet had been inspired by the 1978 cult classic Grease. Ah, yes, because William Shakespeare surely looked to a Hollywood blockbuster love story of a goody-two-shoes and greaser to write his most notable play. These were the people making you miserable?! You bombarded your letterman jacket with a bunch of tiny, obscure pins for crying out loud! Only you could make those god awful, gaudy, green jackets look remotely cool. Not to mention the fact that when looking at you from a distance—totally not creepy—Eddie could make out those funky, little doodles that indented the cover of your notebooks, before being thrown into your stuffed locker of knick knacks and stickers. Pins and doodles? Totally cool in Eddie Munson’s book. 
Okay, maybe not the most substantial aspects to determine one’s coolness, and perhaps, most wouldn’t look to the super, super senior to constitute what is, but the fact of the matter was that Eddie Munson, himself, thought you were pretty damn cool, so who the hell were some peaked-in-high-school nobodies to tell you otherwise? 
“What do I think? Uh, how do I put this?” Eddie reiterated, playing out the right words to confront you with. Though, Eddie Munson wasn’t necessarily one to speak so eloquently. “I think you’re kinda acting like a dumbass,” and your fallen face had him stuttering into recovery, “n-no, I mean, like, not that you’re dumb or anything, you’re really fucking smart. It’s just, I dunno, c’mon, you’re smart enough not to let them bother you.” He exasperated. 
“Like-”
“Like- sorry,” he interrupted, “I just mean that you’re so much better than them. Like, in every aspect, you have so much more going on than their puny life.”
“Well, according to them, I don’t even have a life.” You grumbled, knees wedging themselves against your chest to provide the perfect burial for your head. 
Eddie sighed, choosing to sit up against the headboard of your bed to get your smushed face to follow his movements. “Hate to break it to your sweetheart, but getting shitfaced at some boring party isn’t exactly the epitome of having a life. I mean, sure, maybe to the people who thrive in small town shitholes like this place,” and luckily, Eddie was able to follow along with your airy giggles, “but you and I? Hell, no, babe, nuh-uh, we were made for bigger shit than Hawkins.” He smiled.
And you smiled, too. “Like New York?”
“Like New York.”
“Ooh, or somewhere pretty like Paris or Marseille?” Your head finally perked up.
“Sure… I mean, I think I can put up with French people for you.” He joked, letting that genuine laugh fall from your lips so effortlessly. “Kinda draw the line at eating snails, though.”
You gasped dramatically. “What?! You’re telling me you’ve never tried Benny’s escargots?!” Yeah, you were way cooler than any Courtney Keller clone. 
Eddie’s head leaned back, as his hearty laughs quietly fanned your face, until the atmosphere was finally at peace with steady breaths. “I mean it, sweetheart, just gotta look them right in the eyes, use those big, beautiful things you got, and tell them to fuck right off.” 
While undeniably making your heart patter in your chest, Eddie Munson’s comment also served to become the catalyst for the most humiliating moment of your life. With your face turned away into your knees to shield him from the lovesick smile you were embarrassingly about to flash him, you terribly missed the single opportunity it would have taken to redirect Eddie’s devastatingly—for you—short attention span away from the beaming jewel that rested in your still opened drawer. 
“What’s this?” Pink and glimmering under the lowlight of your lamps, Eddie couldn’t resist the encrusted jewel lined with silver. And you hummed in question, oblivious to his findings, turning around all too late. “In your nightstand.” His hand inching closer and closer.
In your nightstand, in your nightstand, in your nightstand, echoing like a nightmare on repeat, as your eyes widened at the epiphany that Eddie Munson had found your- “Don’t touch that!” Your father’s brow cocked, wondering what movie it was this time eliciting dramatic reactions from you. But Eddie’s calloused fingers had already grappled onto the silver handle, pulling out what was beyond mortifying for you, as the lamp shade had fully revealed what concealed item contained that sparkling decoration.
“Oh, damn…” Eddie blinked, swallowing the nothingness of his throat, as a stir began to tickle his naval just below the belt. Both sets of eyes glued to the bulbous end of your plug, though Eddie’s incoming smirk seemed to differentiate tremendously to your gaping mouth of disbelief, where you sat frozen in horror at the events transpiring before you. Held like a priceless jewel, Eddie examined your personal toy with a devious smile to pair. “You use this? Like, it really goes up your ass?” 
Your internal being was screaming at the top of your lungs, all masked by the stoic features of your face that refused to accept the reality of what was happening. “Eddie.” You managed to mutter out. “Please, put that back!” Harsh whispers smacked him in the face. “Eddie, I- sorry, just please, I’ll-”
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” His free hand came to secure itself around your knee, allowing that tightening breath to finally make its escape from the anxious hold in your chest. “Really, I just- it’s cool, just caught me by surprise ‘s all.”
“Okay, well, can you please just put it back, and forget this ever happened?” You pleaded, wishing him away for the night, hoping to never meet his eyes, the same eyes that made your butt plug fall under scrutiny. “I swear, it’s not mine- well, it is, but, like, I didn’t buy it, my stupid friends, ugh-”
Palms digging into the sockets of your eyes, you wielded this as your punishment, hoping the pain would come to mask the utter humiliation of Eddie finding your personal belongings. Uptight, they joked. Laughing with those giggles you learned to despise as you unwrapped the decorative paper that covered your birthday present. A book, a journal, sketch pencils, or plant, any and everything that could have sufficed as personal presents that would have been highly appreciated. But your friends seeked another personal route, with the jabbing comment of wanting you to “loosen up.” And so what, gag gift or not, the use of that particular toy came about as no one else’s business, because while the contribution came at the expense of the devastating realization that your friends were grade A assholes, there was no judgment in exploring yours- GOD.
“Hey, seriously, sweetheart.” Eddie’s hands came to pry yours away, letting his lighthearted eyes cast away the round, sadness of yours. “I just, y’know, didn’t think you were like that- or into that.”
“Oh, right, because I’m so uptight and boring.” You defensively rolled your eyes at him, before attempting to move from your spot next to him, but Eddie worked quicker to keep you in place.
He spoke earnestly. “Hey, no, don’t put words in my mouth, I didn’t say that.” Eddie sighed, jumping through the endeavors to show his action didn’t come maliciously. “Seriously, you know that, alright. Don’t think of me as being that kind of person.”
You sighed in defeat. “Eddie, this is just beyond humiliating.” And he desperately just wanted to take a hold of your adorably sullen face. 
“I don’t think it’s humiliating.” He smiled, of course, it wasn’t his butt plug in his hand. “Think it’s kinda… intriguing. L-Like, sexy.” Your eyes peered to his height, searching for the laughter of a joke you swore was about to follow. But Eddie Munson had never lost the hold of your eyes, piercing his through yours to strike that flame in your body with a burning match. 
“Really?”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah.” His fingers continuously fiddling with your toy in hand, as his pants tightened at the mere thought of it being inside of you. What you did, late at night, to destress, finding an escape in the pleasure of being plugged, and played with. “Knowing what you like, testing your body, yeah, sweetheart, it’s really fucking sexy.” He slyly eyed you down, as your throat went dry under his dark stare. “Wouldn’t even mind seeing it.”
“W-What?” You stuttered out, thighs tightening to rub that aching thump brewing between your legs. “Like, um-”
“If you’re okay with it, Y/N,” Eddie took over for you, “I’d like to see how you make yourself feel good.”
Your mouth gulped like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words that were lost in the tangled disarray that was your overthinking mind, beating heart, fluttering tummy, and pulsating heat. But even that gnawing anxiety couldn’t deny you the unbearable urge to have Eddie Munson ravish you. “I- right now?” You spoke so quietly, nodding to the sentiment. 
“Yeah,” his tongue drenched his lips with one swipe, “let’s just say it’s for, uh, educational purposes, what do you say? Might even, y’know, get your mind off things. Relax. Feel good. Better than that fucking weed can do.” His ringed hand took a hold of the plastic baggie from your side to place away in your nightstand- inside, where you apparently held your most precious items. 
You swallowed the nerves away, allowing yourself the selfish pleasure of Eddie’s touch to wash away the heavy troubles of your mind. You want this. You deserve this. “Please?” So delicately spoken.
“Yeah?” He sneered. You nodded. Under his gaze, you made the move onto your knees to comfortably shift out of your pajama shorts, but your hands couldn’t move further than grasping onto your waistband, before Eddie made a quick call to stop you. “Woah, woah, what are you doin’, sweetheart?”
Your mouth opened to speak, but you froze in the awkward position, and eyed him worriedly. Surely, you couldn’t have possibly read this entirely wrong. “I- you said you wanted to see, like, taking off my clothes.” You meekly explained, as the burns of a suffocating bonfire blazed your cheeks with embarrassment. 
“No, c’mon, baby, you gotta let me be a gentleman first.” Eddie chuckled. “Can’t just start fillin’ you up without kissing you. Get over here.” He patted his lap. 
Your leg thrown over his had you seated on the thickness of Eddie’s thigh, as the skin of yours nipped at the graying denim of his black jeans. Plug aside, his fingers teased at the seam of your shorts to encourage your hands to place themselves on his chest, where he saw you hesitantly reaching for. Feeling the cracking print of his worn band tee had suddenly brought you a sense of contentment, allowing you to comfortably press your weight onto his legs, a sign of snugness that had him smiling at you lovingly. Goosebumps arose in the wake of Eddie’s fingers brushing down the sides of your thighs to connect with the creasing of your knees, finding the fold as leverage to bring you forth. 
Chest to chest. Nose to nose. “You gonna give me what I’ve been dreamin’ about?” Your lips grazed the oncoming stubble of his upper lip, just seconds of subtle, bare touches that were feeding into that aching desire igniting inside both of you, before fully securing your mouth upon his. Eddie’s lips became a suction, refusing to let you go, as his hand crept with security to the back of your neck. Your tiny moans melted into the kiss, with tenuous grinds against his bulge that bent the zipper of his jeans, all too deliciously for Eddie to handle, leaving his mouth drowning with saliva that slicked your lips with the taste of Eddie Munson. “Don’t have to worry about anything with me.” He murmured into you.
A hungry “mhm” was all that could be trusted to come out of you, as your hips rolled with greed, entirely fueled by his tantalizing hand that squeezed at any fat he could latch onto. 
“Everybody deserves a break, baby.” He cemented with firm pecks that left your lips raw with the sound of spit smacking to echo into your ear. “Just let me be nice to you- let me be so fucking nice to you.” You nodded against his face, nose bumping with harsh breaths, as neither of you could find the will to pull away. “Let’s- fuck, let’s get these off now, pretty.” Eddie snapped your stretchy waistband against your hip.
Tingles coursed through your legs, as you found the strength to dig your pedicured feet into the rug of your bedroom, and stand before him. His blunt nails gently scratched down your legs to invigorate you to declothe. Your bottoms slid down, pooling at your feet, before you stepped out to have your pussy on display for him. 
“Mm.” Eddie lowly hummed, enthralled by your mound, so perfectly decorated with the hairs of your pubes, and puffed between your thighs. “Damn, you standing here without your shorts makes me wanna listen to music.” He smiled.
Your brow pointed, gifting him the sight of your confused, little face that had him chuckling at you. “What?” You asked. 
“Y’know,” he snickered, “‘cause I wanna use your thighs as headphones.”
Your girlish giggled made him feel good about his awful joke, finding all enjoyment in seeing your hands cutely hide your face from the shyness of your nature, despite standing bare in front of him. “Eddie, that’s so corny.” You laughed. 
“But I got a smile out of you, s’all I care about.” His hands came to yours to twiddle with your fingers that differed from his thick ones, lavished in the loud jewelry he brandished. “So, uh, I imagine I gotta get you ready first, y’know, wet. Don’t wanna hurt you.” You softly nodded to confirm his words, suddenly feeling the tickles in your belly moisten you, as the realization of this actually happening was becoming truer by the second. “Somewhat of a handyman, myself, can grab some DW40 or somethin’.” 
“Eddie.” You flirtatiously chastised, mewling a whine of gauche, of which you had a real talent of making cute. 
He laughed. “Look, look, there’s no… romantic or- fuck, I dunno, chivalrous way of asking someone if you can eat their ass, so can I just eat you ass, sweetheart?”  
Eddie’s unabashed bluntness had your face burning with the intoxicating sensations of humiliation and want, brewing something nasty in you that always laid dormant under the unexplored aspects of your desires. Leave it to Eddie Munson to elicit that filth with the raunchy words of his mouth that already showed you just how sinfully good it could make you feel. Just for you, you hoped. But surely, Eddie had to have obtained these skills from some practice. And you wondered if that’s what you were. Practice for the next gal to have her world rocked. Or… just thoughts. Loathsome thoughts, the very things Eddie has dedicated to clearing from your pretty head, because someone with a face like yours, and being so sweet had no reason to suffer, as you did. Practice? God, no, you were just everything. So Eddie Munson made sure to give you everything. 
“Yeah.” You tenderly answered. “Just, um- well, I already showered for the night before you came here, but, like, I can, you know, clean up-”
“Baby-”
“Just so you’re comfortable with every-”
Roughed by heavy car parts and heated guitar strings, his all but soft hands felt so gentle in yours, with fingers dancing in the intertwine of a caring hold, flooding you with security, as his eyes without word complimented the contours of your figure silently but so earnestly. Eddie squeezed your hand. Eyes searching inside you through yours. “Stop, stop.” Your nervous rambling came to halt. “I don’t care. I know you’re clean, I wanna taste you.”
“Yeah.” You took a deep breath. A squeeze back to show love to his tough hand. “Yeah, okay.”
A smile breached his face. “That’s what I like to hear. C’mon, bend over for me, pretty, let me ease you from your mind.”
With the rumpled duvet sinking with the load of your limbs carrying you to the center, the air felt cold against the oozing slickness of your bare cunt, spreading its welcome with the curvature of your back with tits hung from their weight on your chest, as you allowed yourself the liberty of resting your head upon your pillow. The falling of Eddie’s creased sneakers against your floor appeared louder than reality when blood was pumping in your ears to the overworking beat of your heart. Naked and vulnerable, several deep breaths were taken to appease that anxious thought in the back of your head of what you might look like to a boy you liked so dearly, but nothing ameliorated you better than the waking touch of Eddie’s hand against your ass. 
“Fuck.” And suddenly his voice had a way of coaxing your hands to relax against the harsh hold of your sheets. His hands rounded the globes of your ass, feeling the fat wobble beneath, when a sharp spank landed on your right cheek, forcing you to suppress the whine with a metallic bite to your lip.
You mewled out your reprimand “Eddie! My parents are still here!” Having to whisper your frustrations, because now having a taste of what an Eddie Munson spanking could do, you wanted more, but couldn’t under a parental household. 
“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He chuckled, a complete lie he muttered just to calm you, because forcing your ass to ripple with the slam of his hand would be nothing he’d apologize for. “It really is just so spankable.” Eddie’s hands worked to massage the brief sting of his abuse that had you quietly pushing back for more. “So fucking perfect, all soft n’ shit in my hands. Nice to just fucking grab, and spread apart like that- fuck.” Fingertips digging into the dough of your cheeks had pulled your pussy lips to reveal strings of sweet arousal, and two pulsating holes Eddie was desperate to fill. “That’s so fucking beautiful.” His thumbs came to brush the hairs of your lips, inspecting what he was about to cherish on his tongue. 
His soft proclamations had you smitten with a smile that would surely strike him to his knees if flashed at him, but you contained yourself in the soft fuzz of your sweater that pooled at your breast to allow him the pleasure of running his course down your spine. Just an exploration of your body, feeling all his could while he can, because while your mind had a funny way of overthinking, his did, too; Eddie Munson was slapping himself to right your worries, because one wrong word, one wrong touch, one wrong stroke of his tongue had him rampant in the head that you’d leave disappointed in his actions. Forever. 
“Eds.” But as Eddie Munson was there to ease you, you were there to ease Eddie Munson. You’ve nicknamed his status to something closer than drug dealer. And the salacious click of your tongue had you proving to wanting to push that status further.
Eddie smiled at the possibility. Your gasps were all that could be heard next, feeling the tip of his wet tongue browse your tight hole, as your ass swallowed him in. His mouth lathered you with the spit that once coated yours, though now preparing your asshole for the stretch he’d succumb you to, lips nipping at your hole that had you salivating your moans into your pillow. A feeling all too foreign for you, allowing someone in your most intimate area, and Eddie took it with such delicacy, manifesting all his love for your ass in the mewls he shoved between your cheeks. 
It quickly found itself to be something better than lubricating your ass with the use of your slick and prodding your hole with a curious finger. Eddie had managed to bring depraved sensations with the globs of his spit and the intrusion of his tongue, forcing itself to snake past the pulses that attempted to keep him out. “Fuck, you taste so good.” Pumps and pumps of his wet muscle tickling the walls of your tight ass, as his hands pinched your body in tight grips, shaking all fat in his vicinity to do everything to be consumed by you. 
“Eddie!” You hugged your pillow, suddenly feeling the fire of your warm sweater, as your ass danced along his face. “Want you to- mm! Want you to keep doing that!”
“Sorry if I’m takin’ long, baby.” Like spitting the taste of nicotine out of his mouth, a warm glob of saliva impurely landed on you, giving leeway for his thumb to massage your squeezing hole, before submerging in with your moans to accompany. “Just really wanna make sure you’re ready. Fuck, and, um, I know I said I just wanted to see how a plug works, but can I please eat at your pussy, baby, it’s right there.” God, he could smell you enticing him, seeing your pussy hole clench completely neglected as your asshole got the fun of his touch. 
“Yes, please, Eddie, just want your mouth on me.” Hips thrusting back to chase what left, leaving him with nothing to do but smile and ravage your thighs and hips and sweet kisses. 
“Nasty, little fucking thing, aren’t you?” He proffered no time to answer, giving himself what he wanted, face becoming smeared with the gleam of your wetness. Your pussy tickled under the scratch of his light stubble on your lips, the shoving of his nose in your sopping hole, and his tongue flicking of your clit igniting every prurient urge you ever tried to satiate on your own. 
That delicious tang of your cunt infiltrated every sense within him, surrounding him in nothing but you— the hearing of you, the sight of you, the smell of you, the touch of you, the taste of you. Your raw bud throbbed under the exploitation of his mouth, sucking the shockwaves to cause your thighs to quake.
“Too much. Eds- fuck me, I can’t, s-sto- uh!” Your hand reached back at an attempt to push him away from the stampeding orgasm you were too insecure to experience him seeing. But no matter the sting of your pretty nails digging into his scalp, nothing was stopping Eddie from seeing the sheer tremble, cry, and gush he could bring your body to. 
With his thick thumb plunging into your asshole, his free hand sadistically pulled at your cheeks to expose as much of your pussy as he could, leaving you to mewl at the stretch of your skin. The sole separation of your puffy lips had him moaning at the sight; such a tight pussy hole aching for something to fill it, needing to squeeze down to spark your greedy orgasm. “Shit, fucking pussy pulsating just for me.” His tongue buried itself inside, letting his finger fall to pinch at your vibrating bud, rewarding it with the tight circles of rubs that felt unbearable. “Taste so fucking delicious!” His words were barely eligible in the crevices of your cunt, but they provided all sensation to push you into your tonic state. “Cum for me, fucking cum!”
Fucked by his tongue and finger, you no further denied him, unleashing a gush of your spent to ravish his mouth, as your holes kept him in place with their tightening hold. If it wasn't for the fault of your parent’s bedroom being on the other side of your home, they would have surely heard the vulgar corruption of sweat and sex condensing the air of their daughter’s bedroom.
“Fuc- mm, uh…” Like a Pavlov dog, your pillow had soaked itself wet from the salivation of your chewed lips, as your legs shook under the grasps of Eddie’s hands. 
“Shhh, baby, I’m gonna put it in. Let me play with it.” When limbs went numb after orgasmic bliss, the dealer knew now was the time your body would accept it. Gaping from the size of his thumb, Eddie’s gentle insertion made the process enjoyable, placing a delicate kiss to your asshole, before your plug was indulged in the tightness of your ass. Now crowned with a pretty, pink jewel to top. And you mewled, softly shaking your ass to adjust to your decoration, trying to find feeling in your shaky legs. “God, you sound so fucking cute.” He rubbed your ass with groping hands. “Don’t let that get into your head, though, I’m still in control here.” Eddie chuckled. 
Despite falling limp, Eddie’s strength found no trouble in pulling you onto his lap, once he fell back onto his calves. While a hammering bulge was fighting back against the restraints of his cuffed belt, you couldn’t deny the fact that he didn’t feel the satisfaction of a bursting orgasm, yet your mind pondered on the reasons as to why his heart was pounding so profusely against your spinning head. Your hand splayed against his chest, as you peered up at him. “Are you nervous?”
Eddie Munson swallowed thickly. And ignored you completely. “You’re a really dirty fucking girl for playing with yourself like that all alone.” His hands pinched at the sweaty skin of your back, as your face contorted with the creases of confusion at his now unnecessary comment. “But… now you have me, though, right? Gonna play with me always?” Though, any confidence Eddie previously had speaking to you that way was gone under your scrutinizing stare, and you could hear it in the slight quiver of his voice. Because Eddie Munson wasn’t trying to dirty talk you. No, Eddie Munson was trying to seek your desire to want him around. 
And you gave it to him. “Yeah.” Free of any sexual suggestion, because Eddie knew you saw through his assertive facade, piercing at his vulnerability and choosing to accept it through the deep breath of relief of his nose. 
With his tongue swiping at the surrounding areas of his lips, you assisted his clean-up, thumbing at the gleam that coated his chin, subsequently letting the burden of his heavy head fall into your gentle hands. “Y’know, I see you a lot at parties- like, more than just us doing deals, I see you.” He cleared his throat. “And I’ve had this thing. This, uh, really big thing for you for a long time now, Y/N. A-And I know it’s your friends dragging you to these parties, but, I dunno, when I see you you just look so… meek, I guess, but like in a good way. Like, this whole elegance you got to you.”
Both you and Eddie stumbled into soft giggles at his boyish articulation, trying to grasp the concept of feelings from a man who’s never been graced with the excitement of committed reciprocation. But there was one thing for certain, Eddie Munson was damn sure trying this time. “Wouldn’t necessarily call myself elegant.” You chuckled. 
“No, but you are.” He earnestly protested. “Y’know, you show up, not even wanting to, not saying a word, just keeping to yourself, and everyone just looks at you- notices you.” 
In a town of Stacy Withers, Chrissy Cunninghams, Lucy Colemans, and Courtney Kellers, that felt like a big, fat lie smeared in your face. You brushed the stinging sentiment with quiet laughters of pain. “No one notices me, Eddie-”
“I notice you, Y/N.” He urged you to see, hands molding onto your body for fear of you not seeing what he gets to so lovingly see. His lips landed upon your cheek, brush-like strokes, dragging his affection to the canvas of your face, before a devout kiss seared your mouth to his. The swelling muscles of his arms squeezed to tighten around your back, savoring your being, and exploding when your sweater-clad arms mimicked his fervor around his neck, experiencing first-hand what was Eddie Munson’s first requited love. “Just to be here,” his lips spoke against yours, pausing to kiss away the ache that fell constant when your tongue wasn’t dancing upon his, “playing with you,” your mouths clicked with the slobber of his spit, ridden with the tart honey of your pussy juices, the same ones beginning to sog the stitching of his jeans, “just cracking that armor you got on, it’s heaven on Earth for me.” Your lips strung apart, as your thumbs soothed over his chasing movements, caressing the beating pulse point of his neck. But where you smiled, Eddie continued to try to kiss your upturn beam. “You’re not kissing me, why aren’t you kissing me?” He whined, trying to pull a pucker out of you. “Just smiling, aren’t you?”
You nodded. “Yeah,” giggling against his hungry lips. 
“As pretty as you are smiling, I need you kissing me, baby.” Eddie playfully admonished with a hefty squeeze to your hip in a puerile way of presenting his frustration. 
“It’s just,” late nights of perfecting the solos of various guitar sequences allowed your fingertips to skim over the delicate purpling of his under eyes, “I don’t know, Eddie, the night has just been really shitty, and you’ve somehow managed to make it a lot better.”
“Probably because I gave you one hell of an orgasm.” This time you’ll allow his refusal to accept the complimenting sincerity of your words, masking the mush of giddiness inside him with a comment of sex, because at least this one made you laugh in his hold. 
“And other things, Eddie.” But there you were to peel that mask away, and dump your kindness of wanting him all over his walls. “You gave me other things.”
A building appreciation for yourself. 
The cynicism of his eyes jumped hurdles to search for any fibbery he may have found himself trapped into, but you were so warm. To the touch, your skin sent his hands aflame with sparks of desire from the true benignity of your being. Warm eyes, warm lips, warm heart, working to secure a blanket of security over his shoulders from the sheets of coldness both of you have been offered by those who cared too little for your wellbeing. “Y/N, I need to tell you something.” His mouth moved without thought, as his body grew sore of ignoring the very thing it wanted: you. “Look, I’m just gonna jump right in, and say it, I want you to be mine- I want to be your boyfriend.” His eyes bounced around the brightening features of your face, creasing with lines to make room for the smile that enamored his chest. “But first I gotta prove to you.”
“Prove to me?” You gently prodded, mind working overtime to control your hands from balling the fabric of his shirt from uncontained excitement. 
“See, I kinda just got this thing in my head, y’know, that I gotta prove my worth to you-”
“Eddie-”
“No, I know it sounds bad, but really, it’ll just be for my own peace of mind.” He assured you with the earnestness of his voice soothing the concern you were about to tackle to confirm Eddie Munson was, in fact, enough. “I know it might not be the biggest deal to you, but I just wanna be able to take care of you- like, please you. Make sure I can make you cum.” He whispered into your face. 
You wondered where he was for the last five minutes, somehow forgetting the euphoria he had just pulled from you with the sole use of his tongue. “Didn’t- I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but didn’t you already… just do that?” 
“I mean make you cum l-like couples do.” He bashfully iterated, eyes falling down, as if he hadn’t spoken the dirtiest things to you before. Though, perhaps, the beginning stages of what would blossom into a loving relationship had the boy suddenly at the age of fourteen, wondering when that momentous occasion of a first girlfriend would come. Having sex a year later surely doubled the probability, though Nicole Summers wasn’t exactly one that stuck around to find out. “Won’t exactly feel too great if the only way I can get my girlfriend off is by one single way. Let me prove to you that I can be good for you.”  
“Quite presumptuous of you to believe I would even say yes to you asking me out.” You’d a hundred percent say yes. 
Eddie smiled, before the strength of a sole arm entrapped you soundly against his chest, as his torso dropped forward to lay back against the plushness of your bed. Before a sharp moan could elicit the concern of your parents, Eddie brought forth his mouth to yours, once his bulge caught a steady rhythm against your buzzing clit. “Don’t think,” his hot breath concocted with yours in the heated makeout, “I got to see your tits.” Too neglected for your liking, your sweater found itself bunched under your chin, under glowing lamp lights that shadowed your peaked nipples. “Fuck me, pretty girl, just too,” a kiss to your valley, “ fucking,” a kiss to your breast, “perfect.” Eddie Munson swallowed your pert bud whole. 
“Mm, that’s so nice.” You quietly mewled, with polished fingernails delicately weaving through the tousled curls of his head, sweaty and dampened from a whirlwind of nightly activities. 
His hands groped at the fat, squeezing them together to tongue at your nipples, harsh flicks that had you arching into his face. “Just too fucking beautiful for this world.” He nuzzled into your chest, his nose flaring hard to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume, crisp and clean just for him to lose himself in. 
“Are you going to fuck me now?” A guttural groan burrowed its way out of Eddie’s throat, crawling forward to shove kisses along your cheek that had your head pressing into the softness of your pillow.
“Not gonna worry about your folks?” When the Indianapolis Colts saw a hopeless comeback of being seven to twenty-seven against the Dallas Cowboys, your father knew to save him the anger of witnessing another pass interference with a click of a button that blackened the screen; a definitive call for the night. The heavy steps of your father’s movements followed along the stairs, wood creaking with the shift of his weight to bring him amongst the bedroom doors of the second floor. One look at your door. As every night would go, a quick knock at your door would allow your father entry into your room, hopefully catching you in that green gunk of a facemask you’d like to smear on your face, to provide your father the perfect joke to hear that loving, “dad, stop!” But given the crotchety tone of your previous engagement, your father guessed he’d follow the the statement if his gifted ‘#1 DAD’ mug, and leave you for the night. Embarrassing you will have to wait for Saturday morning’s event. And off to bed he went. 
You hadn’t even realized your luck, allowing Eddie Munson to bruise your neck, oblivious to the predicament you slid by. “We can be quiet.” You pleaded, running your legs along his to feel the scratch of his itchy jeans, desperate to receive any and all sensations against your exfoliated skin. 
“Open your legs for me more.” Your thighs pried open to his body, sanctioning him the authority to squeeze all he could to bring lines of tingles to your core. “Good girl, feels so fucking good to finally be touching you. Your plug in good?” Sitting snug between your cheeks, where a sticky stream of your cream pooled down your ass, bringing an extra shine to the gem of your plug. 
“Mhm, feels nice.” You dug into the sheets of your bed, hips pivoting forward to the chase of Eddie’s thumb massaging into the dough of your inner thighs, hoping they’d make their move to examine your pussy with the prying of his curious fingers. 
“Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable ‘s all.” He mumbled. A hand invading the crease of your thigh and hip had him softly chuckling to himself; quiet guffaws of disbelief to the radiating fever warmth that was congenial from the suffocation of your meaty thighs.
Your bitten lips twisted into a pout. “Why are you laughing at me?” 
“Not laughin’ at you, baby.” He laughed. Eyeroll. “Just love that pussy heat, y’know?” Eddie callowly smiled, bringing forth a burn to your cheeks, as your watched wrinkles of titillation annex his face from the sheer look of your natural body. “I dunno, guess it kinda makes my head a little bigger knowing she’s waiting for me.” He became delirious on the hypnotics of your moving hips. “Fuck, want me to touch you, pretty girl?”
You were falling desperate under his command. Your nails dug their crescent shapes into his hand, skin flooding with the pumping veins from the stinging rush, an urgent call to have him finally give in. “Please, Eddie, been waiting too long.”
“Ah-ah, have some fucking manners first, not gonna get it that easily without asking nicely.” He tortuously tantalized with the coming of his hand beginning to lightly rake the wisps of your manicured pubes. A whine of despair was all he was met with, nothing but your hips attempting to gyrate his hand to your needy clit. “C’mon, don’t get all greedy on me, baby, remember this is about you, you’ll get it all eventually. Just need you to feel everything as much as possible. Let me just rub the outside; up and down.” The weight of his fingers interfered with the glue of your slick, now pulling at your pussy lips to showcase the rawness of your cunt, strung by webs of your syrup that had him itching to shove his tongue in once more. “And maybe, I’ll just take my finger,” his pointer, pushed out ever so lightly to tickle the wet skin below your pussy, before the rigid callouses dragged up to spark the nerves of your puffy labia, catching a rub to your erecting clit, “and touch you whenever I feel like it.”
Your breath became caught in strings of gasps. “Eds.” Purring with delight at the tease of his finger brushing at your impulses of sensation. “Please, please, can I have you?”
“Just wanted to see that sexy fucking smile you do when you get all excited.” Eddie admired, reveling in the twinkle that bedecked your face to light up from the touch of his fingers. “You are so fucking hot, man.” Mumbling to himself, his head refuting the belief of this being reality. But your body moved with the liveliness of feelings, your voice rang with melodies of harmony, and your smell infused his skin with the sweetness of sugar and oils; no matter how hard Eddie Munson’s eyes welded shut with dubiety, there was no dying the realness of a woman before him. “Wanna play a little game with you, baby.” 
“A game?” Your voice softly upped in review of him, as he climbed over with a heavy hand turned soft to pet your head with loving strokes that matched the brief attachment of his lips to yours. 
“Yeah, just a little one, nothing to worry about, just love seeing your face n’ everything.” He vaguely detailed, letting your mind lose itself to the softness of his peppered kisses. “First, you gotta any names you wanna call me: master, sir, daddy?” 
Eddie watched your eyes shy away from his brashness, adorably being unable to endure the heat of his words. “Um,” your teeth pinched into your lips, “I-I think sir’s kinda nice.” You timidly admitted, only ever divulged by the encouragement of Eddie’s affection. 
And he smiled against your lips, dragging his devotion to your cheek, temple, and forehead. “I think it’s kinda nice, too.” From you? Anything would have his body stirring. Eddie abruptly sat up from your body, his mangled hair briefly frizzing from the overhead reach of his shirt, that left his torso blank of any band tee he’d previously adorned. His abdomen came to light as a soft tummy lined with the harsh crevices of flexed muscles in a strive to show off a physique he thought would look best for you. But your warmhearted hand relaxed the strain of his stomach with a single stroke to his naval, sending shockwaves with every graze against his happy trail. 
In the midst of pulling away the worn leather belt from the clinking metal buckle, your words swiftly halted his movements. “You’re very pretty, Eddie.” 
His head bowed, soft laughter coming through the nostrils of his nose, as he shook his head with a smile that adamantly won over his face, despite a hefty attempt of biting his lip to keep it down. “Feel like I should be the one telling you that, look at you.”
“Would it be so wrong for you to hear the truth, too?” A smile so pure, it shot straight to his heart, causing a speed bump to the rhythmic beating of his chest. 
His cheeks darkened with vulnerability. “I- yeah, you’re really about to fucking get it…” both of your soft laughter mingled into the air, as he tugged the length of leather from his belt loops, “…and thank you.” His lips pressed to your inner knee, whilst undoing his pants. But then, he paused. Eddie Munson had not even the slightest idea of how easily you were able to undress before him. Perhaps, it simply fell down to the principle of the matter that Eddie Munson was already head over heels crazy about you before you ever spoke to him. He’d like to thank Chrissy Cunningham- or, actually, whatever stress it was she was enduring for being the sole reason why she went seeking him that fateful Friday afternoon. Now, he understands the grossness of that sentiment, but, truthfully, as an aspiring entrepreneur, the problems of your clientele surely become the profit of your business. And while he wasn’t exactly looking to better this capitalist venture, it did, in fact, lead him to you. Standing in the back, watching reddening leaves fall to the ground, under the guise of being your friend’s lookout. C’mon, that rotting bench hadn’t seen company for years, Chrissy Cunningham was merely weary of his presence and needed backup. But gladly so, as for once, someone’s uncalled for judgment allowed him the privilege of staring at their pretty friend. So excuse him for suddenly falling insecure about the look of his body. You were quite literally everything to Eddie Munson. Would he be for yo-
“It’s okay.” What? “I want to see you, Eddie.” You smiled so perfectly. 
Without notice, stirs of anxiety turned into fluttering butterflies in his belly. And Eddie Munson smiled back. Following the squeaks of your bed, he headed off, taking a hold of what was his pants and boxers into a tight grip, and finding the confidence to rid himself of any further clothing. Springing from confinement, seven inches of weight bobbed against his naval with a smack, as you relished in the sight of his cock with bulging veins that strained to pump blood to his scarlet, mushroom tip. Any concerns about the appearance of his area abruptly left his rampant mind, after witnessing the dragging pull of your plump lips opening for your mouth to widen in awe. Your thighs rubbing in heat, a desperate attempt to satiate that rubescent, needy clit that thudded with tingles from the mere sight of him naked. 
Yeah, nothing to worry about- in fact, quite a large inflation to his ego. “Decent enough, huh?” His lips twisted with a sneer. 
A deprived “mhm” moaned its way out of you. 
Rushing to place himself between the warmth of your legs, Eddie positioned his cock to sit heavy against your tummy. His large balls of cum became immersed with the slick of your pussy, as his velvet skin rubbed against your drenched folds to fully show you the length of his member; nudging it to your belly button, whilst the chaos of his pubic hairs titillated your thighs. “This game, baby, the only thing with it is that you can only cum when I tell you.” His eyes kept a close watch of your rippling stomach with every smack of his cock he caused. “You understand?”
“Yes, I understand.” You sighed, becoming antsy with the tickle on your abdomen from the sheer weight of his dick. 
“That’s the right fucking answer,” he darkly chuckled, “just gonna start playing with you, pretty girl.” His hand directed the fat tip of his cock to butt at your clit, forcing your hips to jolt awake with the electricity of pressure against your sensitive nub. “Just like that, you fucking like that, don’t you?”
“M-More, please.” You clawed at your bed sheets, stressing the material with every rub of his length against your cunt. 
“Nah, baby, gonna treasure this, take it nice and slow.” He agonized, sucking in breaths with every tense of his balls, as you brought pulsating tingles to his body by doing nothing, but laying pretty. “Fuck, you really do something to me, whatever you got going on is doing a fucking number on me, sweetheart.” Saying all the right things to you, his words shot straight to your pussy, making it impossible to hold back your soft moans. “Honestly, baby, not really one to talk about my feelings, I guess, but you- everytime I come by knockin’ on your door, I just get these nerves n’ shit. Gotta talk to myself, too,” he husky laughter pierced so sexily, “honestly, like ‘damn, gotta pull yourself together, can’t let her pretty ass see you like this.’” Eddie’s cock dragged through your folds, separating strings of wetness to marinate on your raw cunt. “And I just wanted to kiss you for the longest, wanted to be right here playing with this fucking pussy.”
“I want you, fuck.” You heaved, hips chasing an itch he refused to have you revel in. “Always want you, Eddie.” 
His cock spurred excitedly. “Shit, sweetheart, can’t say things like that to me, fuck.” Eddie’s tip ran through your slit, the swollen head now prodding at your hole, just a first glimpse of the stretch you were about to endure. “God, just having me lay here with you, seeing you, hearing you, touching you, it’s the greatest thing ever. Does that feel good baby? Like me teasin’ you?”
“Yes, sir, please, Eddie.” You hummed, trailing a high that was building too slowly for your liking. “Want more.”
“Mm, really like hearing you say that, love your pretty, little voice.” Eddie’s free hand dropped by your head, supporting his weight to hover over you, letting his unruly hair cascade a waterfall around you. “As a matter of fact, you should speak up. Tell me you wanna be a good girl for me.” So close, his cock was barely grazing the entrance of your cunt, all before tortuously leaving your warmth to dissipate that spark in your body. And up above, Eddie was enjoying the show of your contorting face of frustration. “C’mon, you can say it.”
“I wanna be your good girl, sir.” You pleaded, taking a grasp around his supporting wrist to help find your rhythm against his teasing dick. “I promise, I’m your good girl, just let me have it.”
“Yeah, you wanna be my good girl.” He mocked, aligning his slick head of precum and your arousal to your clenching hole that oozed more wetness. “Here’s the thing, you’re already mine, so who am I to deny you- mm, fuck!”
Falling chest to chest, your nails clawed up his back at the burning sensation of his girth breaching your seizing walls. Eddie’s forehead dropped to yours, as the mixture of both your hot breath confined what little space was left between your gaping lips. “Slow, slow!” You urged him, as his bangs crumpled against your head with a fervent nod to listen to your pleads. Every clasp of your cunt had him harshly breathing through his nose, fighting the onslaught of sensations that were subsequently bringing him closer to the edge far faster than anticipated. “Uh! Fuck, you’re so big!” Inch by inch, your body was giving way to the pleasure of his deliberate intrusion, welcoming him in with a warm hug from your cunt. 
Nearly lacerated by his nails, Eddie hoped the balling of his fist would defuse the overwhelming feelings churning in his chest, but suddenly being submerged balls deep into your body had his mouth spewing with all he felt for you. “Fuck, you really don’t understand what you do to me.” He whined against your face. “First time I saw you, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I don’t really get in situations like these often- hell, fucking ever, but you! I just had to do whatever I could to get you. Honestly, it kinda pissed me off.” Eddie breathlessly chuckled against your lips, driving his greedy hips to drag his cock along your walls. “Holy s-shit, fuck, how the hell was I letting some girl have this affect on me. But you’re not just some girl, Y/N. God, mm, you’re fucking everything.” 
Leave it to Eddie Munson to confess his feelings from the tightness of your pussy. 
“Eddie!” His cock found no trouble in abusing that spot within you that had your legs occupying his waist like a lifeline, toes curling from the rapture that trembled your legs. Your hands forced his head to your lips, swallowing each other's moans to consume the desperation of night. Where spit messily slicked your lips, a ring of cream surrounded Eddie’s cock that smear the wetness against your pussy. 
“Fuck, just wanna do everything for you.” His lips dragged against yours, bodies bumping with every pound of skin slapping Eddie caused with his dick. “Got your holes all plugged up, nasty, little fucking thing.” Pursuing that desperate high, your pelvis began meeting his with an impassioned gyrate; the swollen head of his cock bruising your g-spot, all whilst the tickle of his pubes itched at your inflamed clit. “You wanna come, baby- fuck, I know you do!” His stomach clenched with every squelch your pussy created under the squeezing hold of his dick’s continuous reentry. 
Licking and rubbing your cunt to a tender mess of cum and slick had your second orgasm of the night pummeling quickly under Eddie’s intrusive cock, and you were pleading to see white stars from the fucking of his body to yours. “Yes, please, please, sir! Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna- mm!” 
Sweat coated your rubbing bodies together, where you nipples abraded against his to have you wailing with all sensations, yanking that orgasmic string within you. “Squeezing down on my fucking cock, yeah, baby, you can cum, but not until I say so.”
Eddie Munson was torturing himself when his body stilled inside you, but seeing your desperate face twist into a crying mess was far better than dumping inside you within the first five minutes. “No, no, sir, please!” Your hips attempted to fuck themselves deeper onto his cock, but Eddie’s harsh hand imprinted itself to the fat of your curves, holding your down from any endeavors to cumming. 
“Hey, hey, listen, listen, sweetheart.” He took a hold of your jaw, forcing your eyes upon his. “Remember, you’re my good girl; gotta be good for me.” All along this is what Eddie wanted, turning your mind into deprived mush to cloud those overcrowding thoughts that hurt your little head. And he watched it transpire before him, seeing you desperately nod to his words, completely at his mercy with full trust to care for you. “I know I’m being mean, baby, but you gotta believe me when I say this will feel so good.” His puffing breath fanned your face. “I’m so proud of you, so proud of you getting all that shit off your chest, so proud of you letting me play with your holes, being this perfect, dirty girl for me. Now, I want you to come, okay, just gonna play with your pussy-”
“Ah, fuck!” Your body jolted under the tight, circling rubs of his rough fingers against your clit. 
“Sh, sh, don’t want your folks disturbing us, baby.” His devilish sneer taunted your face. “Just tell me you wanna come, okay? Say it.”
Your lips incoherently spewed out. “Iwannacomesir-” 
“Slower, pretty girl, slower.” Eddie demanded, with each pinch to your buzzing pearl fueling that plucking string of hot cum inside you to burst. 
“I want to cum, sir.” Your trembling hands secured his hot cheeks to bring him forth, as your lips whispered against his with tiny kisses. “I… want to… cum, sir.”
Eddie smiled against your lips, before planting a fat sucker on them. “Good, now shut the fuck up, and you better listen to me.” With your heads bound closely, all of the world became lost in the homey environment within Eddie’s curtain of hair. Where his two-in-one shampoo clashed with your coconut hair mask, and the smell of sex fermented the humid air of hot breath, Eddie began hammering his cock into your sopping pussy, with spurts of wetness jumping to souse your connecting bodies. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” He huffed. “Anyone can see that plain as day- so fucking incredible. You deserve the fucking world, deserve to be taken care of, and I swear, baby, I swear on my life to be that man.” Eddie moaned into your ear, his wet lips exciting every nerve in your body with hot whispers, that had you mutilating his skin with streaks of unbearable red. “Just feel me playing with you, pleasing you, only you, pretty girl- f-fuck! Tell me I’m yours, fucking tell me.” 
Your legs tightened around his backside, driving the heels of your feet to the tiny plush of his ass, forcing him deeper into your cunt. With your hands caressing the beauty of his face, you managed to find the strength to open your screwed shut eyes, and meet the round ones that were pouring desperation into yours. “You’re mine, Eddie.” Spoken so delicately from the hoarseness of your throat, whilst the filthiest actions were occurring to your body. “You’re all mine, Eddie. No one else. Just you.” Sealing it with a searing kiss that had him sobbing groans onto your tongue, in a heated mix with your whines. 
“When I tell you, cum for me, okay, baby? Ten.” His heavy hand forced a grip to your leg, hiking them higher for an angle unbeknownst to you, leaving you to squeal into the crevice of his neck. “Nine… eight… seven, love how fucking greedy your body is, almost there, my pretty girl.” Eddie’s balls were seizing with twitches, as his engorged cock was building up a hot load that was on the precipice of flooding you. “ Six, look right at me, five… four, wanna see your pretty face when you finish.” Too much pressure was mounting on your cervix, as your body began losing itself to the thrills of an impending orgasm. “Three… two, tell me you wanna cum.”
“I wanna cum!”
“Louder!”
“I wanna cum on your cock!” Singing it to his ears with cries of harmony had his body cramping with pleasure. 
“One, fucking do it, cum for me!” Your back arched with the snap of your orgasm, a scorching gush of creamy white invading his cock with unfathomable squeezes and squelches. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… f-fuckkkk!” A hose of his sizzling seed fucked itself into you with stuttering hips that had you wailing into his buff shoulder, nails bloodying his alabaster skin with reds of passion, as your bodies convulsed in the aftershocks of pure hedonism. “T-There you go, fucking ride it out, sweetheart, ride it out with me.” His muscles flexed under the intense explosion of his bust; beads of musky sweat falling down the length of his body to infuse the creamy cum that matted his pubic hair. “God, you’re so fucking sexy, so fucking beautiful.” 
“Auugh!” Your fogged mind whined in the lost stars of white that flashed your vision. 
“It’s okay, my baby, just relax, you’re alright.” Eddie brought you back to reality, peppering kisses of adoration along your perspired skin, cementing every word he ever uttered to you in the heat of the moment. A brief cry of discomfort from his cock pulling out had him comforting your body with gentle caresses, all while witnessing the artistry that was a pearly concoction of both your hot cum painting the pink jewel of your butt plug with a filthy iridescent. “Fuck, you really are fucking mine, Y/N.”
Your soft voice ripped through the sounds of heavy breaths, as your body felt like waves of crashing water under his touch. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
You weakly laughed. “Yeah, you can definitely be my boyfriend.” As if that was ever a question.  Your gentle mewls echoed into his ears, as his thick fingers made the move to smoothly twist out your butt plug from your needy hole, that felt the need to keep its clamping clutch onto it. Eddie swore under his breath, falling in love with the winking gape of your asshole. While a clean-up was surely at hand, your beckoning voice had him dropping your toy to lay by your side. His lips found solace in the company of your own, as he brought your sticky being of sweat and cum close, snug under the protective arms of his body. “Yeah, I’m your boyfriend, and you’re my girlfriend.” Eddie Munson’s lips upturned to a damning smile that had you clinging to his closeness for the rest of the night.
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roygbivvie · 5 months
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-TF2 MERC KINKY HEADCANNONS-
*This is like my first time writing anything on here so have mercy on my mortal soul*
Nsfw warning obvi, so 18+..but also it gets pretty damn kinky in here so beware.
- [x] Spy
Spy in my mind is absolutely a switch. He absolutely has a daddy kink and a knife kink, but he also wants more than anything for someone (scouts mom) (or you ;0) to yank him down by his tie and force him to his knees. He likes surprises. These can be sexual in nature or not. I feel he would also like blindfolds regardless of who’s wearing it. covers your eyes and says “guess who” ass motherfucker. He’d growl too i think.
- [x] Sniper
many thoughts are to be had about this man in particular. For starters, by no means am i one to kink shame. My blog would be more of a testament to that if my likes were public. However, i simply do not think he has a piss kink. I think he puts absolutely no thought into pissing in jars besides the fact that it’s purposefully insulting to his targets in game. With that out of the way, his kinks. Do i even need to say primal kink? This fella read most dangerous game and thought: damn.. that’s kinda sexy. He wants to set you loose in the woods and track you down to fuck you. he wants it outside. he wants it dirty, sweaty, covered in blood and mud. He wants it animal style but literally. Aside from primal stuff, he loooves roadhead and hitting that thang from the back.
- [x] Scout
Now scout is a tricky one. Unlike basically all of the other mercs, i don’t think he’s super kinky. Here’s some thoughts anyways. He’d definitely start out kinda preformatively domineering, but the man has no ability to bluff. he’d ask constantly if he’s doing ok / if there’s something you want him to do. He is an absolute sucker for any praise. Compliment him on literally anything, and he’ll be a puddle in your lap.
- [x] Pyro
The mask STAYS. ON. during sex. The only way i could see them removing it is if they first blindfolded you. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just refuse for absolutely anyone to see them. So i hope you have a mask kink, because they’ve certainly developed one. Other kinks they may have would be sensory play. I’m talkin hot wax, ice, feathers, incense, maybe even needles. basically the whole shebang. Pyro also has a love for fantasy, and i feel like Ovipositors would lend quite well to that. They probably have quite the extensive bad dragon collection.
- [x] Engineer
He absolutely makes you toys.. and them suckers are POWERFUL. He’d absolutely make a fuck machine, or several. I think he’s extra into having anything you use to get off be made by him. He’s mega into overstimulating you. He likes to watch his handiwork absolutely wreck you over and over. He may even want others to watch too. I think he’d have a size kink whether you’re bigger or smaller than him, I just think he’d like the difference.
- [x] Demo
I think he likes cuddlefucking and somnophilia. Nothin sobers him up faster than waking up to head. Now when he gets in the mood for it, it’s degradation BIG time. like so bad that he probably feels he has to apologize afterwards.
He also likes to spit on you. Also i don’t know how it would work, but there’s potential kink-ery with that ghost eye of his. I don’t know how, but the potential is there.
- [x] Medic
Oh boy this freak..
Did someone say knife kink? yea. yeaaaaah. And it’s pretty extreme. He’s not just threatening you, he’ll really do it. He likes to keep you strapped to a medical bed n shit too. I think he’d like to spoon-feed people. He gets off on giving you sugar pills to make you “feel better” wait.. were those really sugar pills? fuck. You’ll wake up sore with maybe an organ or two missing, but that’s the price to pay for those big sexy jugs he’s got. Don’t worry he’s a master at aftercare.
- [x] Heavy
Size kink outta the way, I think Heavy is into Dollification. He wants to take care of you, dress you in frilly outfits, and keep you on a shelf like a little collectible next to Sasha. He might even share you with medic.. take you in to get “fixed” if he ever brakes you..
……….. fleshlight position 0////0
- [x] Soldier
WAM!!! (wet and messy) for sure. I mean the honey in the comics certainly did something for him. wearing red, white, and blue? you won’t be wearing anything in no time. I feel like degradation is also a certain for him. Don’t tell anyone but he secretly wants you to put him in his place .. he definitely doesn’t want more than anything to follow someone’s orders..
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gunnerfc · 7 months
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Cata Coll NSFW Alphabet (18+, minors DNI!)
A: Aftercare
Cata is so sweet after sex, whispering sweet nothings as you catch your breath
B: Body Part (their favorite body part of themselves and their partner)
Cata's favorite body part is her thighs, you've gotten yourself off on her thigh many times
Her favorite body part of yours is your waist/hips, she loves holding you tightly as she fucks you
C: Cum (anything to do with cum)
Cata loves making out with you after eating you out
D: Dirty Secret 
Cata wants to join the mile high club and when you do, she can't get enough of the adrenaline rush that comes with it & potentially getting caught
E: Experience (Are they experienced? Do they know what they are doing?) 
She is but the two of you have learned a lot since being together and have discovered liking new things
F: Favorite Position 
Loves fucking you from behind
G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)
She's serious for the most part but if you two have been out drinking with the team, she's a bit more giggly
I: Intimacy (How intimate are they during the moment?)
She's more intimate after sex
J: Jack off (Masturbation HC) 
Doesn't have an opinion on it, if you gotta get yourself off, have at it
K: Kink (One or more of their kinks) 
Spanking, your ass is always sore the morning after
L: Location (Favorite place to have sex)
Your apartment usually but she wants to try outside your apartment
M: Motivation (What turns them on?) 
Hearing you say her name any way, hearing you moan her name really drives her crazy
N: No (Something they wouldn't do)
She doesn't like restraints, she wants her hands on you at all times & she wants your hands on her
O: Oral (Preference on giving or receiving)
Cata prefers giving but she really likes receiving as well
P: Pace (Fast & Rough? Slow & Sensual?) 
Fast and rough all the time and it's why you feel sore in the morning
Q: Quickie (Thoughts on quickies) 
She likes them, they usually happen right before you have to leave somewhere and she has to have her hands on you
R: Risk (Are they open to experimenting) 
The most she's willing to go is having sex somewhere semi public
S: Stamina (How many rounds) 
You two can go for a few rounds with lots of orgasms
T: Toys 
She has a strap that she uses all the time as well as a vibrator that she uses to tease you with
U: Unfair (Do they like the tease)
Cata loves to tease you, she's a bit sarcastic with her comments
V: Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make) 
She's a little loud when she's on the receiving end but she's not that loud when she's fucking you
W: Wild Card (Random HC)
On a flight home, when the team was all asleep you and Cata joined the mile high club and the idea of one of your teammates hearing you made her fuck you harder
Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
It's pretty high, sex with you is one of her favorite things to do
Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
You both fall asleep pretty quickly when you’re done
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lisaalmeida · 3 months
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Ma nuit est comme un grand cœur qui bat.
Il est trois heures trente du matin.
Ma nuit est sans lune.
Ma nuit a de grands yeux qui regardent fixement une lumière grise filtrer par les fenêtres.
Ma nuit pleure et l’oreiller devient humide et froid.
Ma nuit est longue et longue et longue et semble toujours s’étirer vers une fin incertaine.
Ma nuit me précipite dans ton absence.
Je te cherche, je cherche ton corps immense à côté de moi, ton souffle, ton odeur.
Ma nuit me répond : vide ; ma nuit me donne froid et solitude.
Je cherche un point de contact : ta peau. Où es-tu ? Où es-tu ?
Je me tourne dans tous les sens, l’oreiller humide, ma joue s’y colle, mes cheveux mouillés contre mes tempes.
Ce n’est pas possible que tu ne sois pas là.
Ma tête erre, mes pensées vont, viennent et s’écrasent, mon corps ne peut pas comprendre.
Mon corps te voudrait.
Mon corps, cet aléa mutilé, voudrait un moment s’oublier dans ta chaleur, mon corps appelle quelques heures de sérénité.
Ma nuit est un cœur en serpillière.
Ma nuit sait que j’aimerais te regarder, chaque courbe de ton corps, reconnaître ton visage et le caresser.
Ma nuit m’étouffe du manque de toi.
Ma nuit palpite d’amour, celui que j’essaie d’endiguer mais qui palpite dans la pénombre, dans chacune de mes fibres.
Ma nuit voudrait bien t’appeler mais elle n’a pas de voix.
Elle voudrait t’appeler pourtant et te trouver et se serrer contre toi un moment et oublier ce temps qui massacre.
Mon corps ne peut pas comprendre.
Il a autant besoin de toi que moi, peut-être qu’après tout lui et moi ne formons qu’un.
Mon corps a besoin de toi, souvent tu m’as presque guérie.
Ma nuit se creuse jusqu’à ne plus sentir la chair et le sentiment devient plus fort, plus aigu, dénué de la substance matérielle.
Ma nuit me brûle d’amour.
Il est quatre heures du matin.
Ma nuit m’épuise.
Elle sait bien que tu me manques et toute son obscurité ne suffit pas pour cacher cette évidence.
Cette évidence brille comme une lame dans le noir.
Ma nuit voudrait avoir des ailes qui voleraient jusqu’à toi, t’envelopperaient dans ton sommeil et te ramèneraient à moi.
Dans ton sommeil, tu me sentirais près de toi et tes bras m’enlaceraient sans que tu te réveilles.
Ma nuit ne porte pas conseil.
Ma nuit pense à toi, rêve éveillé.
Ma nuit s’attriste et s’égare.
Ma nuit accentue ma solitude, toutes mes solitudes.
Son silence n’entend que mes voix intérieures.
Ma nuit est longue et longue et longue.
Ma nuit aurait peur que le jour n’apparaisse jamais plus mais à la fois ma nuit craint son apparition, parce que le jour est un jour artificiel où chaque heure compte double et sans toi n’est plus vraiment vécue.
Ma nuit se demande si mon jour ne ressemble pas à ma nuit. Ce qui expliquerait pourquoi je redoute le jour aussi.
Ma nuit a envie de m’habiller et de me pousser dehors pour aller cherche mon homme.
Mais ma nuit sait que ce que l’on nomme folie, de tout ordre, sème-désordre, est interdit.
Ma nuit se demande ce qui n’est pas interdit.
Il n’est pas interdit de faire corps avec elle, ça, elle le sait. Mais elle s’offusque de voir une chair faire corps avec elle au fil de la désespérance. Une chair n’est pas faite pour épouser le néant.
Ma nuit t’aime de toute sa profondeur, et de ma profondeur elle résonne aussi.
Ma nuit se nourrit d’échos imaginaires. Elle, elle le peut. Moi. j’échoue.
Ma nuit m’observe. Son regard est lisse et se coule dans chaque chose.
Ma nuit voudrait que tu sois là pour se couler en toi aussi avec tendresse.
Ma nuit t’espère. Mon corps t’attend.
Ma nuit voudrait que tu reposes au creux de mon épaule et que je me repose au creux de la tienne.
Ma nuit voudrait être voyeur de ta jouissance et de la mienne, te voir et me voir trembler de plaisir.
Ma nuit voudrait voir nos regards et avoir nos regards chargés de désir.
Ma nuit voudrait tenir entre ses mains chaque spasme.
Ma nuit se ferait douce.
Ma nuit gémit en silence sa solitude au souvenir de toi.
Ma nuit est longue et longue et longue.
Elle perd la tête mais ne peut éloigner ton image de moi, ne peut engloutir mon désir.
Elle se meurt de ne pas te savoir là et me tue.
Ma nuit te cherche sans cesse.
Mon corps ne parvient pas à concevoir que quelques rues ou une quelconque géographie nous séparent.
Mon corps devient flou de douleur de ne pouvoir reconnaître au milieu de ma nuit ta silhouette ou ton ombre.
Mon corps voudrait t’embrasser dans ton sommeil.
Mon corps voudrait en pleine nuit dormir et dans ces ténèbres être réveillé parce que tu l’embrasserais.
Ma nuit ne connaît pas de rêve plus beau que celui-là.
Ma nuit hurle et déchire ses voiles, ma nuit se cogne à son propre silence, mais ton corps reste introuvable. Tu me manques tant. Et tes mots. Et ta couleur.
Le jour va bientôt se lever.
- Frida Kahlo, Lettre à Diego Rivera (12 septembre 1939)
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hot-bumblebees · 1 year
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Picture this… hear me out… Doma with a he/him coochie
Contains: masterbation, oral, fingering, genital piercings, reader and Doma are kinda nasty
Doma who had been a demon for a hot minute already but has never tried to change his genitals/gender until he saw another demon do it and was reminded that he could also do that.
He wasn’t interested in having more feminine features, he liked the way he looked, but there was something about having a pussy that excited him.
So he does it and he loves it so much! It’s so much more comfortable to sit down and live. And it’s not like he could get a period so he got all the pros and no cons.
But his favourite part was when he would get touched there.
The first time he touched him self he didn’t last long, the feeling just being too good. He now understood why women were so loud when he pleased them and he couldn’t blame them.
Doma who loves to take his time and feel himself up and edge himself until he’s ready to cum on his fingers.
The way his fingers felt against clit was so incredible as rubbed small circles on it. His slick helping him glide his fingers across the sensitive surface as he moaned and wined. When he’s ready he uses his other had to insert two fingers inside of him, making the pleasure border line too much. it only took a few more movements to make his hole twitch around his fingers.
Doma who gets a vch piercing just so that every time he sits down or does a specific movement the bar rubs against his desperate clit that could never get enough.
Finally one day you came along and you had been getting closer to Doma. You noticed that his posture was different from other males, he would sit cross legged and he would never complain about how being uncomfortable, which most males do when they sit cross legged. That was one of the things that you noticed but never minded to ask.
One day as you guys were sitting outside on the porch you asked him if he ever considered changing genders since he could do that. Doma looked at you and smiled.
“Of course I have Y/n! And I have! It’s so much better than a dick!” He responded laughing lightly, amused by the conversation.
A mischievous smile appeared on your face.” Oh really? In what ways Doma?” You knew exactly where you were going with this.
“It’s much more comfortable and feels so amazing when I touch myself!” Doma raved at the thought of pleasing him self.
“Yourself? How about others?” You asked knowing the answer already.
“Unfortunately I haven’t tried that out yet.” He pouted as you moved closer towards him, placing your hand on his upper thigh.
“Oh Doma you poor thing.” Empathy in your tone.” Let me fix that for you. Can’t have you deprived like that.” You stand up and put your hands in front of Doma to help him up and led him back to his room. Lucky all the members were sleeping.” Take your cloths off and sit on your bean bag.” You order and watch him obey, peeling his clothes off and going to sit down on the bag. You walked up to him and sat beside him to kiss him. He immediately took control of the kiss making it aggressive as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Your dominant hand going in-between his legs to toy with his sensitive bud, but to your surprise the was something cold and hard there too. Pulling away from the kiss you looked down. There was a small silver curved bar bell sitting on top of his puffy clit.” What’s this for? Hmm? It’s pretty cute.” You complement as you flick the metal bar making him gasp and shake.
“I like feeling cute and every time I sit down it makes me feel good.” He responds as he watches your hand as it starts to rub circles on him.” Sometimes I rub my legs together just for a little relief but it never works” He frowned as he sighed.
“Your so dirty Doma… such a desperate slut.” You go to kiss his pale neck as your fingers keep playing with him.
He seemed to really like little tight circles with added pressure, so you continued that motion and going down to his hole to collect wetness and to tease him a little.
Doma was getting louder as time went by and you could tell that he was going to cum soon so you pull your fingers away and detached your self from his neck. Doma whined at the absence of your fingers.
“Why’d you stop? You’re being mean.”
“Open your mouth.” You ignored him. He opened his mouth and sucked on your wet fingers, tasting himself. After you felt like your hand was ‘clean’ enough you pulled your hand out of his mouth.” How do you taste?” You ask as you go down to the floor, pushing his thick thighs open and taking in the sight of his pussy.
“I taste so good y/n! Your very lucky to have the chance to taste me!” Doma flaunted as he looked down at you.
“Indeed I am.” You mumbles as you went to lick a strip up his slit. He tasted so good and sweet, so you went back in for more. Starting slowly at working away on licking Domas clit. the blond hair that he trimmed was tickling you face but it was ok, it added to the appeal.
“Oh y/n! More please?!” He desperately asked as his hips tried to hump you face for more friction. You complied latching onto his clit sucking it as his whines turned into moans.” Ya just like that y/n! So good!”
His head tilted back, as the familiar feeling of his climax approached. The only thing that was missing was the fingers inside of him, but you seemed to read his mind. You used one hand to hold his legs down to keep him folded and your other hand was coming to put two fingers in him and rub his g-spot.
Tears started to build up in Doma rainbow eyes. The feeling was so good, better than it ever had been. His orgasm was rapidly approaching but time it felt different, there was a pressure also building up in his bladder, something that never happened before but it felt so incredible making him cry in pleasure as his body was taken over by tremors. You kept going until Doma was done riding out his orgasm and your face was covered in cum and squirt.
You pulled away form Domas sticky cunt and wiped your face on your shirt. Moving back up to Domas face to quickly peck his lips.” How was that?” You asked as you stood up.
“It was amazing y/n! I want to do it again!” He expressed as he sat up with excitement.
“Of course Doma.” You smiled as you went to go get a rag to clean him up.
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Slow Hands
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A/N ::: This one is living rent free. Now and forever. Inspired by Yuzuya/Tamaki Amajiki. Thank you, @callm3senpaii. This is just ... Heavenly. HEAVENLY.
C/W ::: Sorta slow burning, Suggestive at beginning, crack/slit licking, tiny bit of dirty talk (really, very little), sex toys; spacer bar, oral M->F, fingering, tongue/face fucking, M->humping the bed, M->orgasm, F->orgasm, squirting, F->little cum tasting on M->lips.
WC ::: 2,650
NSFW under the cut.
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Slow Hands
Amajiki walked you back to his apartment after dinner. You both agreed that you'd had such a good time you didn't want the night to end yet. "Well, this ... this is my place. You're s-sure you want to come, uh, up?" He asked, looking away from you because he couldn't possibly live through the crushing disappointment of you turning him down. Despite it being your idea, for all intents and purposes, to go home with him after your lovely evening.
You smiled and reached your hand out to take him by the chin. Turning his head to meet your eyes, you nodded. "Mhm, I do, 'Maki. I'd really like to come in and continue our conversation from dinner." After you'd sated his nerves, you brushed his purple hair back over the tip of his pointed ear. You liked his ears, they were so playful and cute. A perfect fixture for his sweet appearance.
He pushed the button on the elevator and after what seemed like an eternity, the doors opened and he stepped aside so you could get on first. Your purse was clutched to your stomach as you crossed into the lift and watched him follow you in. There were mirrors everywhere in there. It was hard not to focus on him fidgeting with his fingers while he stared at the floor. The apples of his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears were a bright pink.
"'Maki, are you alright?" You asked, looking at him through the mirror in front of the two of you. Your eyes fell a little, saddened by the thought that he wasn't having a good time anymore. Then you notice the way his pants were tenting out. "Oh, 'Maki ... you're ..." He raised his head to look back at you through the mirror's reflection. He smiled, ever so slightly. "I'm what, y/n?"
He wasn't going to acknowledge it. Ok. "N-nothing. You just look really handsome tonight." Rubbing his back and eye fucking the bulge in his pants, you took his arm and got out of the elevator to follow him to his place.
His keys were already in his hand as he began fishing for the one to open the door. He turned the knob and stepped inside, holding it open for you, he took your hand.
And you could not look away from his inseam. You wanted to talk to him about it, to tell him it was ok that he was feeling this way.
Maki ... I feel the same way. Kiss me, please ... You thought.
But that would probably scare him away. He always seemed so timid and shy. It was but one of the things you liked about him; He wasn't loud or obnoxious. But he still maintained a great sense of humor and the charm of ... well, him. He was charming no matter how insecure he was feeling that day. Maybe it was because of the fact that he was shy and so careful that you were drawn to him. Or maybe it was because you wanted to draw him out of his safe little shell and see what was on the other side of that fragile persona.
"This ... this is me, only inside, *heh*”. He started talking fast, almost frantically once you were both inside. “Um, oh! May I take your coat, would you like something to drink? Feel free to take your shoes off and get comfortable. I'll give you a tour if you're interested. I have an amazing view from my balcony. At night, especially. On really clear nights you can see all the way over the ---"
"'Maki ..." You went to him, sitting your purse and jacket down on the arm of his couch and you put your arms around his neck, leaning in to put your nose against the warm skin of his neck. "’Maki ... would you like to do something?"
He swallowed hard and loud as he looked down at what he could see of your face against his collarbone. "L-l-like to do s-something? L-like something like w-what?" His hands went to your shoulders and it almost felt like you were going to be pushed away. Though to counter his caution, your grip tightened around his body. You kissed and sighed happily into his adam's apple.
The noise that bubbled up from his throat was such a sweet little whimper. Something between shock and utter euphoria. It went straight between your legs. "Did you like that, Maki? Would you like me to kiss you? Some more?" You began to sway your body against his in an attempt to get him to loosen up. What it did, though, was tense yours up. When you moved adjacent to him, all you could feel was his hard cock brushing into your abdomen.
You ran your fingers up under the base of his skull and teased the hair that hung there. Pulling on it as you rubbed your nose against his. "Do you like having your hair played with, 'Maki?"
His hands hung at his sides like they were being held there by some invisible force. Something stronger than gravity. "Uh-huh *aheh* Yes, I-I do like that. Feels good. Real-really good, y/n."
It made your heart skip a beat at how he tried to speak up about it. "What else do you like? Do you want to show me? Or tell me ... about that?" There were probably 5 steps to his couch, you figured. "Sit with me, please?" Amajiki nodded dopily and was finally able to move his arms. He took you by the shoulders and let you show him the way to somewhere he's probably been able to find on his own thousands of times.
You sat down on the couch, facing him. He sat looking forward, hands resting in his lap. It occurred to you that he was still trying to hide how hard he was. And right then and there, you decided to get under his metaphorical blanket and see what all the fuss was about. 
A couple of minutes went by and he only looked you in the eye a handful of times.
"Tamaki ... look at me. Would you please?" You reached for his hand and brought it to your lips. You kissed the back of his palm and ran your thumb over the tips of his fingers. "You're so beautiful, Amajiki. I had a lot of fun with you tonight. Is there something you'd like to ... explore?"
He finally looked at you, eyes wide and glistening, his cheeks flushed pink, and his mouth hanging open slightly. "E-explore? L-like ... what?"
You knew he was nervous. That's probably why it felt so right taking on this feat of getting him to open up. If he couldn't convey what it was that he wanted clearly, then you'd do your best to gauge his reactions and go from there. "Would you like me to help you ... touch me? Or ... maybe yourself?"
He let out a long exhale and nodded quickly. "Y-yeah, I think I would like that very much. But I don't want to make you---" There was no way you were going to let him finish that sentence.
"You're not making me do anything I didn't already want to do, handsome." You pulled him towards you, making him lean on your shoulder. You let your hand travel down his back and around his waist. He was still stiff, but it seemed like he was relaxing a bit. "I can kiss you some more. Here *kiss* ... annnd *kiss* here *kiss* ... we can do something you want, too? Just tell me. I want to. I want to do this with you, 'Maki, whatever you want."
He nodded again, this time resting his forehead against your own. You couldn't believe how smooth his skin was, it was like running your hand over the softest silk. His purple eyes, finally aligned with yours. It felt like you'd swallowed a fire and it was going to consume you wholly if you didn't kiss him soon.
His breathing got deep and slow until you put your hand on his thigh and began to massage the muscle lightly. You could see his eyelids getting heavier the higher up his leg you went. And when your hand landed just before his cock, he gasped.
"Oh god, y/n ... I, oh god, I ... " He whined, biting his lip as you ghosted your hand over his pants. He couldn't help but lift his hips to meet the pressure you were putting down. "I don't think ... I can … I can’t ... fuck ..."
You could feel the wetness between your legs starting to soak your panties. It wasn't often that someone made you this wet this fast. You kissed him finally, tenderly. Parting his lips with your tongue, he moaned into your mouth. "Mmphh" came out in a shaky breath as he kissed you back.
The kiss was all-consuming. He was so thorough and gentle with you that you truly thought that fire inside of you was going to blow your body to pieces. Tamaki met your every advance with perfect cadence and a pressure so delicious you were scared you would let yourself die rather than come up for air.
But life.
You pushed back from him and the two of you looked like a couple gone mad. Your lipstick was smeared over both of your faces. The look in your eyes made him question if bringing you up here was a good idea, after all. What he couldn't see, though, was that he had an equally fervent gaze that made your knees buckle.
"Y/n, I don't know that I can control myself with you. I think I ... I want you so badly. I hope that doesn't scare you. But the way you just kissed me, I ... do you?"
You stood and turned your back to him and peeked over your shoulder, "Unzip my dress?" You debated whether to just tell him or not. But the unknown variables of this situation were too great, so you asked instead. 
He reached out and his fingertips grazed your skin as he unzipped the dress. It fell off your shoulders and onto the floor.
You were standing in front of him, still seated where he was. His big eyes took in every visible inch of skin you shone. "Oh y/n. You're ..." he exhaled. "You look ... c'mere." He pulled you to him, burying his face into the soothing warmth of your belly. "Beautiful."
Amajiki was looking down at your feet until his hands started at your ankles and he ran his fingers up to cup your thong-clad backside. "Turn around ... turn around."
You raked your fingers through his hair once more before doing what he told you to do. And as you stood there, your ass cheeks against his face, that's when you felt the tip of his tongue dragging heavily up your crack. Moaning as he bent you over. His mouth was pressed so deeply against you that the vibrations went beyond even the fattest part of your body and melted down what few defenses you still had standing.
"You taste ... you taste so fucking good. I can't ... I can't get enough ..." He licked and sucked at you until you were so wet that you knew he could feel it on his face. 
You couldn't help but reach back and press him in deeper. It was so hot. You wanted to feel him everywhere. "Mmm ... 'Maki ... I can't ... I want to ... please, oh god, lick my pussy."
He stood up and spun you around, lifting you up onto his hips, he carried you to his bedroom and put you down. "Lay back, y/n. Lay back and ... let me ... I want to ... fuck. You're so wet and ... fffuck, spread your legs." Tamaki turned to go to his closet and he rummaged around for a moment until he pulled out what looked like a bar with cuffs on both ends. "Y/n. Would you ... maybe consider ... something? You asked what I liked. And, well, this … is what I like."
You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked back and forth between him and the spreader bar. The smile on his face was vastly different from the cautious façade he so easily sold you at dinner. "I'll try whatever you want to try, 'Maki."
He kneeled in front of you, taking your hands and kissing your knees and up your thighs to your covered slit. He breathed heavily on you, making you shiver with anticipation. "I ... I've never felt so ... can I ... take these off?" He pulled at your thong and you nodded.
The elastic snapped back and he pulled it down your legs and off, throwing it across the room. He put the bar between your legs and cuffed your ankles. "Ok?"
You shook your head yes. "Do whatever you need to do." You looked down at him between your legs, his hands on your inner thighs. He was biting his lip so hard that you could see it going white. "Maki, don't be afraid. It’s ok.”
He nodded and took a deep breath as he pushed your legs back. Your feet were pointing towards the ceiling as he lifted your hips and pulled your body towards his face. "Oh my god. you're ... dripping. Fuck. This is the best thing I've ever seen. Fuck."
He began to lick you like you were a dripping ice cream cone. It was slow and steady. He made sure to cover every inch of you with his tongue. He licked your pussy lips apart with the tip of his tongue and slipped two fingers just beyond the clenched muscles. The words that left your mouth didn't even sound like English.
As he continued to lick and suck at your sex, he pumped his fingers in and out of you. "I think ... you're gonna cum, y/n? Keep moaning for me, sunshine. I love the sounds you make." He made noises with his lips against your cunt that you didn't think were humanly possible. The sloppy squelching. The wet prodding of his tongue in your hole. His jittery exhalations as he found the spot that threatened to undo every remaining ounce of your composure.
"Is this it? Is this the spot that has you shaking so badly beneath me?" Amajiki backed away, barely a breath of his could be felt. But it wasn't his tongue that had you unraveling. He was rolling and grinding his hips against the mattress. He was humping his bed with your pussy still in his face.
He moaned loudly into you, pushing his face in and out of your cunt in time with his thrusts until he came in his pants. Your orgasm hit you seconds after his. So hard that you came with a heavy moan and a rush of liquid spilled down your ass and onto his sheets as your body tried to fold in on itself.
You breathed heavily, your arms above your head as you tried to focus your eyes. Tamaki's face was pressed against your thigh. "Oh god, oh fuck, y/n. I'm ... I couldn't help it. Oh my god, you're so fucking beautiful." He unlocked the bar from your ankles and laid down beside you. He ran his hand over your stomach as he kissed your cheek.
You turned to him, "'Maki, anything you want. You are so special." You kissed him again, tasting your own cum on his lips.
"Y/n? You're offering? Might just take you up on that." He put his hand on your waist and pulled you in close.
“Is that right?" You kissed him again, hoping that tonight would never end. And you knew that Amajiki felt the same way. 
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Taglist of my Turkeys (Happy Thanksgiving and thank you to anyone reading this though!) ::: @darkstarlight82 @millennialmagicalgirl @callm3senpaii
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uneessencesensible · 5 months
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J'ai cherché dans mon téléphone, ce qu'il me reste de toi. Tout est sur l'ordinateur et je n'ai pas le coeur d'aller regarder tes 1.300 photos. Moi, qui pensait atteindre les 2.000 photos de toi. Tu étais tout le temps collé à moi, dans des positions plus qu'improbable. Maman disait toujours que tu étais sans cesse avec moi et qu'elle ne se demandait plus où tu étais, quand j'étais à la maison. Je ne m'en rendais pas compte. Pourtant, c'était véridique.
J'ai cherché pour ta grande sœur, mais je n'ai plus de photos d'elle sur moi. Je devrais en mettre quelques unes. Les plus belles. Je devrais me créer un dossier "Mes plus belles étoiles" et le garder pour toutes ces fois où je ressens le besoin de revoir vos bouilles.
J'ai encore le coeur en miette ce soir, parce que vous me manquez, toi et Cao. Demain, je vais voir le tatoueur pour poser une date. Je vous ai dessiné, tous les deux, côté à côté. Comme à l'époque. J'ai besoin de le mettre sur ma peau, encore une fois. Vos initiales ne me suffisent plus. Le chat ailé tatoué deux jours après ton départ ne me suffit plus.
Ça fait 13 ans que je n'accepte pas les conditions dans lesquels est partie Cao. Mais j'accepte encore moins la tienne. Je n'ai pas pu te dire au revoir, comme j'ai pu le faire pour ta soeur, même si je n'y étais pas préparée. Et ça, ça pèse lourd sur mon coeur. Beaucoup trop lourd.
En écrivant, je pense à quelque chose. J'ai fait une création en ton nom à maman, car je sais ô combien tu lui manques. Mais je vais m'en faire une également, avec Cao. Ca sera mon lieu de recueillement, là où je pourrais vous parler, penser à vous (même si je n'ai pas besoin de ça), ou juste libérer ma peine.
La douleur de votre départ ne part pas, je m'y habitue. Vous étiez mes meilleurs amis, vous l'êtes toujours. Dans mon coeur, vous avez toujours la même place. Personne ne vous remplace.
Il n'est pas vous et pourtant, Pin's est aussi calin, aussi joueur. Il me colle, où que j'aille. Il adore dormir dans mes vêtements, dans mes sacs, dans mes cartons. Comme vous. Il adore venir sur le bureau, se frotter à moi. Il ronronne fort et il veille sur moi quand je vais mal. Comme vous. La relève est assurée et je ferai tout pour qu'il soit aussi heureux que vous. Je veillerai sur lui, comme j'ai veillé sur vous.
Mes meilleurs amis.
Cao, Loustik, Pin's.
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peut-etre · 6 months
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C’était encore en mars. Il m’envoyait des messages mais je ne répondais pas, rencontre d’internet où tout est permis encore - même la méchanceté. Un soir j’ai répondu et c’était ce soir ou jamais. Il est venu, rencontre d’internet et j’étais prête jusqu’à mourir par un homme méchant. Je suis descendue, nous montons. Dans l’ascenseur j’étais prête à l’embrasser tout de suite mais la décence…la décence m’a empêché. Il apporte une bouteille de vin blanc, je le sers dans de grands verres. Il s’assoit face à moi, à l’autre bout de la table. Il dit dans l’ascenseur je voulais déjà t’embrasser. Je dis je suis intimidée. Il dit nous ne sommes pas obligés de parler. Nous fumons. Pourquoi tant de désir si vite. Il dit ce n’est pas que physique c’est le rapport au langage qui se voit chez toi, ton port de tête. Impression de déjà le connaître, déjà connaître cette scène. Donc… je le fais s’assoir à côté de moi, sur le petit canapé gris sans accoudoir. Je ne sais plus le premier baiser, c’est comme s’il avait déjà existé. Je sais à peine encore son corps. Je sais seulement la douceur de sa peau et ses cheveux coiffés rares, comme Holywood, un acteur, un comédien. Je ne l’ai même pas regardé rouler ses cigarettes. Je ne l’ai pas assez regardé, aveuglée du désir. Aveuglée. Il part le lendemain tôt à Bruxelles ; Bx. Un comédien. Le meilleur des mondes. Plein de pièces et d’auteurs américains que je ne connais pas. Il a presque quinze ans de plus que moi et j’ai l’impression que c’est moi qui l’ai attendu tout ce temps. On ne fait que s’embrasser. Devant la fenêtre il me fait cambrer par ses baisers, la bouteille à la main qu’il enroule autour de moi, il colle cette bouteille fraiche contre mes cuisses. Il part. Il part…Quinze jours d’attente quand il est à Bx. Ville maudite. Peux même pas dire le nom. Prête à y aller mais la décence m’empêche. Le lendemain il dit : j'ai des images de toi et la sensation de ta peau, la prochaine fois dormons ensemble. Peur jusqu’aux mains de tout gâcher, de perdre le désir ou qu’il devienne trop fort. J’ai perdu le curseur. J’attends. Tout est mauvais signe. 
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an-orange-twilight · 8 months
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Subtle Gear for Cat Therians!
Hello! My Pinterest and Etsy are full of cat related things, so I thought I'd share some things that could make cute and interesting gear for the therian community!!
Most of these you can wear, but remember gear can take any shape and form, meaning it could also come in the form of decorations :3
Enjoy!
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33-noctambule-33 · 1 year
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Je ne sais pas trop comment la décrire cette énergie quand tu me tiens...c'est comme une onde chaude que j'aspire et qui me colle à toi de la nuque au reins.
Quand au détour d'un couloir ou d'un rire, tu t'arrêtes et m'offres un câlin, je commence par fondre, puis je t'inspire car ton odeur est mon parfum.
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mmdisney200 · 1 year
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Tiana & Cinderella Platinum Series dolls celebrating #Disney100  are available for pre-order ✨ retail price is $45
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yuzusern · 1 year
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Bluelock is now a band!
Merchandise details will be released at a later date from Colle-toy!
https://colle-toy.com/collections/ブルーロック
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pupurpupull · 10 months
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Texte écrit en début d’année pour une revue qui semble en pause/abandon
Il y'a des redondances (résonances ça fait plus classe) avec le petit chapitre “Gâteau de pute” du livre l'etoile de mer car écrit au même moment sur les base des même notes
Voilou
***
Celle qui sort.
La nuit a été ma première et ma seule vocation, le lieu et le foyer de toutes mes rêveries enfantines. Dans la cour de récré se distribuent les rôles du papa, de la maman et j'annonce aux camarades que moi je ne veux être ni le père ni la mère : je suis la jeune adulte, celle qui sort la nuit. On m'assigne le rôle du bébé.
Durant de longues heures passées dans les salles de concert et les trajets nocturnes, ma peau subit les résilles des collants, le vent, la pluie, les tabourets. Le bitume et le béton martèlent la chair de mes pieds. Les salles de concert sont pleines de filles tristes au corps fatigué.
Je flâne entre les toilettes et le bar, je cherche des pièces de monnaie, je vis ma timidité le plus pleinement qu’il est possible de le faire, je trouve une ombre dans laquelle m’asseoir. J’attends que quelque chose se passe et vienne me modifier. Quand je bois suffisamment, j'accepte des mains dans mon slip et des ébats grotesques dans les buissons. La nuit brutalise mon corps et mes organes, elle m’ennuie, me désespère, elle me remplit de rien. Il n’y a rien de plus vide et plus bête que mes nuits. Cela tombe bien : j'aime le vide et j’aime la bêtise. La nuit est mon âme sœur.
Voilà quelques semaines que je me promène avec ce qui ressemble à un petit ami. C’est si rare que je renifle la moindre tendresse. Mon museau sombre dans des coudes, de la nuque, de l’oreille et des mailles de tshirt sans que jamais l’odeur de la mort ne vienne à poindre. Un tel réconfort n'est pourtant jamais gratuit.
Je dis “mon mec” dans les conversations et personne ne réagit. C’est donc que je suis normale ! et donc il est normal pour les gens de me voir faire des choses normales. Personne ne semble avoir compris de quelles horreurs est fait l’amour.
En classe de cinquième j’ai constaté que mes seins tombaient déjà, l'idée d’être aux yeux des garçons un thon intouchable s’est installée dans chaque cellule de ma peau. Les séries TV et les romans ont continué de faire naître divers songes de romances. Je les ai cultivés comme les bactéries secrètes d'un laboratoire hermétique.
Je dis “mon mec” dans les conversations et j’ai le sentiment de répudier mon monde. Le monde des cageots et leurs élevages de moisissures.
Il est 4h30 et mon mec me demande pourquoi on ne rentre pas, qu’est-ce que je trouve ici d'intéressant ? Nous sommes fatigués, je ne sais pas quoi lui répondre.
一 Je suis désolée, je ne veux pas rentrer. Je préfère rester c’est toujours ça qu’ils n'auront pas !
一 Qui ça “ils” ? Moi je vais rentrer toi tu restes ?
Je lui demande de m’attendre et rassemble lentement mes affaires.
Dans le tramway, Un mec met un coup de sac à dos sur ma tête, et mon voisin me défend :
一 Eh ! Oh !
一 Oh la la désolé
一 T'as mis un p'tit coup là ! mais allez c'est pas grave !
Les deux parlent très peu le français. Ils se sourient. Le voisin sort de son sac une barquette cellophanée de poulet Le Gaulois. Il murmure quelque chose qui semble le rendre heureux.
Je prends la main de mon mec avec l’impression de contaminer le monde.
Il me semble que si je rentre (chez moi, dans mon foyer, dans mon lit, dans les bras de mon petit ami) mes progénitures clandestines s’éteindront. J’aimerais que le chauffeur de tramway m’emmène au dépôt et me recouvre d’une vieille couverture sale. Tant que je reste dehors…
Je tourne la clé dans la serrure de mon studio et la nuit se dissout dans une orgie de produit à lentilles et de dentifrice. Sous la couette, mon mec se colle à mon corps que je fige ; il touche une peau que je crispe. «Tu es ma paresseuse préférée». Je simule les modulations de l’endormissement. J'entends l’emballage d’une capote se déchirer et son sexe comprimé de latex se faufile dans l’obscurité menaçante des draps. Je marmonne : «Tu vois, tu as fini par rentrer.»
Ce n’est pas grave, rien n’est grave. Tout est normal et je suis normale. La prochaine nuit me repêchera. Toujours ça qu’ils n'auront pas.
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