#I feel so stupid and pathetic for getting so worked up over something that isn't that big of a deal but it feels so bad and I hate it

[angered-box]

you will never be able to guess who's being a loser and crying it's eyes out right now

[imrllytootiredforthis]

i want hannie to eat me out is that so much to ask for 😞

worship me

han jisung x reader

warnings: dom reader, afab reader, sub han, oral (afab receiving)

a/n: wrote another short fic, bc hannie would get down his HANDS AND KNEES and beg for even the chance

listened to this song (worship by Ari Abdul)-

"darling, what are you doing?"

it always starts like this.

him being needy and horny and unable to help himself anymore. he's always been so insatiable, you knew this when you started dating him.

a night of cuddling just like tonight always ends up with him between your knees.

"please?"

his body sliding down onto the floor, resting one of his soft cheeks against your knee as he looks up at you wide needy eyes.

you roll your eyes at him with a huff, reaching down to play with the ends of his hair, twirling the strands between your fingers. "and why should i let you, hmm?"

his cheeks flush but you don't let him look away, holding his gaze with yours, tugging at his hair in warning.

his mouth opens, closes.

he rambles. a lot. that's what made you fall in love with him, his endless talking and the endearing look in his eye when he went on about something he was passionate about.

but you couldn't say that you didn't love when he was utterly speechless.

when there isn't a single thought in that pretty little head of his, only the idea of putting his mouth to some better use.

you wouldn't say that you liked them dumb but you did like when you could make them go dumb.

"hmm?"

"i just," he noses against your bare skin with a purr, "want you to feel good," he whispers with a hot kiss to the spot right above your knee.

you spread your legs and he lets out an appreciative hum, slotting his body between them as you maneuver your shorts off. his eyes fall before your fixing them back on yours.

"is that it?"

you know it isn't. he knows it isn't.

as much as he'd love to preach that he loved to eat you out for just your pleasure you both knew that wasn't it.

he could spend hours between your thighs. with his tongue worshipping you and his lips sucking at your clit and your cum sliding down his throat until his thoughts into mush.

"please baby? please just let me..." he hesitated but when you made no move he continued. "let me feel your pussy on my tongue. i wanna feel you...so bad."

your nails scratched at the nape of his neck and he barely shivered before hand in his hair shoved him against you.

he whimpered.

"f-fuck, oh fuck, you're so wet."

his tongue is quick to work against you, licking broad strips as your taste and your smell flooded his senses.

he was a man starved and you were salvation in a desert.

"fuck baby," his head spins when you moan. "just like that," with the way you grind against his mouth, with the way you softly tug at his hair and call him your good boy.

it makes him so hard, eating you out while you praise him.

his soft lips wrapping around your clit and sucking ever so slightly, smiling and whining against you when you gasp.

he throbs and he could cum like this. he has before.

with your thighs wrapped around his head and everything so hot and fuzzy he could pass out.

his tongue, wet and slippery, sliding up between the lips of your cunt and tasting you before he lets it slip inside. It's pathetic the way he moans, like you’re the most delicious thing he's ever had in his mouth.

but you are.

he's stupid when your legs rest over his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs as his tongue thrusts into you, your heels digging into his back but he can't help it.

his hips thrust, fucking into nothing but the fabric of his soft pajama pants. he's so sensitive he could cry.

his whines send delicious vibrations throughout your body, adding to the sensations coursing throughout your body, bringing you closer with every flick of his tongue.

"use your fingers," you mutter and he obeys wordlessly, like a dog without any better purpose.

he thrusts them into you, fast, just the way you've taught him. and he lets you use him, just the way you like.

letting you grind over his tongue and face however you like. you pant and he moans like he's the one being eaten out as he listens to you praise him. you keep muttering, "fuck, that's it, such a good boy, good boy for me hannie." and it makes him so, so horny he can hardly handle it, can hardly think straight except for your taste and the way your clit drags over his mouth and the way he just wants you to cum all over his face.

how he could suffocate right here and now between your thighs and he'd have no regrets except for maybe the fact that he didn't get to feel your cum around his fingers and down his throat.

and fuck, you're tightening around his fingers and even though he knows you'll scold him later he pulls them out and replaces them with his tongue.

and his thumb rubs at your clit, his eyes crossing as your nails dig into his scalp and you push his head harder against you, letting out a cry as you cum.

right as he does.

making a mess of his pants as you let go, thrusting against him weakly to ride out your high, sighing as you come down.

you lighten your hold just to see the dumb look on his face but he grips your thighs, not letting up as he mewls.

"baby?" he sighs dreamily, looking up just enough to meet his eyes. you can see the hearts practically glowing in them.

"did i make you go dumb puppy?" you coo and his heart races.

"one more?"

you roll your eyes.

"you're gonna be the death of me."

but it wasn't a no.

a/n: i haven't written a descriptive afab oral scene in literally forever so honestly this isn't the best but...😭

[ultravioletrayz]

KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY NINE: DEGRADATION w/ ELLIE WILLIAMS

"Are you trying to get yourself killed, or did you just want to be treated like a whore after acting so fucking dumb?" Ellie spits out, her words laced with venom and cruelty as she tugs at your hair, pulling your ass flush against her pelvis, the belts of her strap scraping against your plush skin, making you sniffle and let out a choked sob as you twitch and writhe.

All you can do is whine pathetically, grinding your drooling cunt against the base of the dildo for any form of alleviating pleasure. Ellie scoffs, shoving your face back into the pillows.

"Fuck, I should just get rid of you myself. Beats having to blow your pretty brains out when you finally get turned. Unless you just wanna hurt me. Wanna get killed and leave me to rot alone. Fucking bitch." She growls, her hand moving to your aching clit, squeezing and twisting it cruelly. You let out a moan, unable to help yourself despite the pain. Ellie chuckles darkly, her other hand reaching around to grab a fistful of your hair, holding your head still as she continues to torment you.

She thrusts her hips forward again, driving the dildo deeper into your sopping wet cunt with a sickening squelch. You can feel the heat of her body against yours, the sweat dripping down her flushed skin as she leans in close.

"You know you love this." She whispers maliciously in your ear, her hot breath tickling the lobe as she grinds her hips against you in a slow, teasing rhythm that she knows isn't enough for your greedy pussy.

Her other hand moves to grope and massage one of your breasts, pinching the nipple roughly between her fingers. You try desperately to wriggle away from the pain and the humiliation, but every move only serves to drive Ellie's dildo deeper into your cunt. Her thrusts become harder and faster, mirroring the intensity of your own rising desire. You can feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm, even as you beg for mercy between shuddering gasps.

"Please... Ellie..." You whimper pathetically, arching your back off the bed in an attempt to escape the torment. But Ellie doesn't relent. Instead, she tightens her grip on your hair and on your breast, leaning in close so that her tits press against the heated skin of your arched back.

"Say it." She pants out, her breath hot against your neck. "Say that you're fucking useless. Say that you're only good for your dirty pussy."

Your face burns with shame as you comply weakly, too fucked out and desperate to retort, "I'm useless. Only- only good for my pussy."

With a low, triumphant chuckle, Ellie picks up the pace, thrusting into you so hard and fast that you can barely catch your breath. Your insides are a mushy mass of aches and pleasures, every nerve ending on fire with desire and humiliation. She slams into you over and over again, grunting with effort as she works your body into a frenzy. You can feel the headboard thudding against the wall with each brutal thrust, echoing the rhythm of her hips.

Your cries mix with her grunts, your pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears as Ellie takes what she wants from you. And she wants it all. She wants to break you down and make you hers, to own your body and soul until there's nothing left of either one. Those thoughts are usually more pure, but right now, something sick and angry inside of Ellie wants to punish you for your stupid mistakes out on the last scout, those mistakes that almost costed her the love of her life.

You stupid bitch.

Your pussy clenches and throbs around the strap as your orgasm hits you like a freight train, tearing through every fibre of your being as Ellie's hands clench tighter in your hair and around your breast. You scream out her name in a mixture of pain and ecstasy, bucking wildly beneath her as you gush around the girthy silicone.

Ellie breathes heavily as she pulls out of you agonisingly slow, watching the way your pussy gapes and squirts as you collapse onto the stiff mattress, sobbing into the pillows.

"Sorry. Just... be more careful next time." Ellie huffs, getting up to tidy herself up and leaving you there to think about what you've done.

THIS IS UNINTENTIONALLY SO ANGSTY OML

@xluvablz

[taintedcigs]

i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.

ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER

summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!

author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes

also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!

DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.

You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 

Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 

Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 

But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 

You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 

Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 

Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.

Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 

You weren’t special. 

Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 

So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 

DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?

Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.

Too late.

                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?

You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.

You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 

“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 

Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  

Shit. 

“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.

“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 

“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 

“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”

Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 

With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.

“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’

“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 

“The song?” He nods in confirmation.

“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.

He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 

“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.

“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 

A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”

He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.

Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.

“You’re annoying.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.

“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.

“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 

“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 

“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 

“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 

Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”

“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 

“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.

But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 

“What? What guy?” 

“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  

“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”

“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 

“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.

You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 

But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?

Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.

“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 

And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 

“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 

That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.

“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.

And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 

Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”

“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 

“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 

You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.

He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.

“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 

“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 

He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 

He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 

The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 

He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   

Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 

You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 

His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.

Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”

You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 

That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 

“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 

And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 

Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 

You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 

“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”

“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 

Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.

“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 

“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 

Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 

He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 

Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 

“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 

“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 

“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 

You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”

His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.

And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?

“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 

Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 

But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 

Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 

He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.

Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”

“The song…”

“I told you I liked it.”

His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”

“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.

“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 

“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 

Was he… actually gonna do this? 

“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 

“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.

“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 

“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  

You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 

“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 

He felt the same way.

Eddie felt the same way. 

“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.

“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 

“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 

“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 

“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 

“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.

“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.

The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.

Everything he wanted and more.

He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”

You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”

“So, does that mean we're dating now?”

“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”

“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 

He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 

He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”

That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.

He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.

[scary-grace]

hands-off, hands-on - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

This was inspired by this art and a comment left on it about the risks of trying to jerk off with a quirk like Decay. It was also inspired by @obsessedtomone and @scarlettcryptid, who encouraged me to write it and then to post it. The pun in the title was my idea and not their fault.

Shigaraki's quirk makes life difficult in a lot of ways, but there's only one he can't find a way around, and since you joined the League of Villains, it's gotten even worse. When the truth comes out at last, he's expecting it to be a disaster and nothing else. He definitely isn't expecting you to offer to help. (cross-posted to Ao3) Canonverse, one-shot, smut.

Shigaraki Tomura’s quirk is everything to him. It’s how he found himself alone in the world as a five-year-old, even if he can’t remember the details. It’s why Sensei took an interest in him, why Sensei took him in, why Sensei chose him to carry on his work. It’s the perfect tool for someone like Shigaraki, who hates everything, who wants nothing more than to destroy everything he doesn’t like. Decay is the best thing that’s ever happened to Shigaraki. And at the same time, it absolutely, categorically sucks.

Shigaraki might hate everything, but he doesn’t hate it all the time, and the times when he doesn’t hate it are times when he’d love to be able to just have whatever it is without being one wrong move away from ruining it. Name a thing he likes, and his quirk is ready and waiting to fuck it up – gaming, eating, sleeping, even reading the fucking newspaper. He can do all those things four-fingered, if he stays focused. It’s the stuff he can’t stay focused on that’s impossible.

He can’t stay focused when he’s horny, at least not enough to keep from potentially Decaying his dick off. Shigaraki doesn’t actually know if his quirk works on himself, and he’s not interested in finding out. And that means that no matter how horny Shigaraki gets or how many poorly timed boners he pops, jerking off is permanently off the table.

That’s not to say Shigaraki’s never finished. He has. He’s spent so much time humping pillows that he had to learn to do his own laundry. But there’s something really pathetic about being twenty years old with two working hands and still be stuck grinding on a pillow to make himself come, and it always takes so stupidly long. Now that Shigaraki’s got the League of Villains, now that he’s got plans to make and Sensei’s legacy to fulfill, he doesn’t have that kind of time. When he wakes up with the world’s worst morning wood after a dream he doesn’t remember clearly, there’s nothing he can do but wait for it to go away.

It fades – enough – but the feeling doesn’t, and eventually Shigaraki doesn’t have a choice but to drag himself out of bed. He slinks from his room to the bar, hoping it’ll be empty, with the rest of the League out and about preparing for the mission and Kurogiri somewhere nearby if Shigaraki needs him but not actually right there to ask him what’s bothering him. Shigaraki can pour his own drinks. Maybe he can get out of this if he gives himself whiskey dick on purpose. Kurogiri’s not in the bar, just like he was hoping, but it’s not empty, either. You’re there, sprawled out over the bar with a sweating glass of water on a coaster in front of you.

Shigaraki’s jaw clenches at the sight. “What are you doing here?” he demands, and you look up. “Don’t you have something to do?”

“I did it already.” You yawn. “Using my quirk tires me out.”

“Really?” Shigaraki can’t keep the irritation out of his voice. “Making people stupid is that exhausting?”

Your quirk is a weird one. It lets you increase or decrease a target’s ability to plan, reason, problem-solve, remember things, and learn – in other words, their intelligence. “From this distance, for as many people as you need me to hit?” You yawn again and drop your head back down to the bar. “Yeah. Remember, I have to keep them all being stupid the same way, right up until it’s too late. Or your plan won’t work.”

Shigaraki had the pieces of the plan before he made you use your quirk on him, but once you used the quirk on him, he did some fine-tuning on the strategy, and he came up with the idea of using your quirk the opposite way, too. While the rest of the League is planning to make the attack on UA’s summer training camp a success, you’re using your quirk every day on the heroes in charge of planning the camp itself. Shigaraki’s not actually going to know if it works until after the attack, and that pisses him off. “Go nap somewhere else, then.”

“I’m not going to bother you,” you say. “Where else am I supposed to go, anyway? Your room?”

Shigaraki’s this close to saying yes, just to get you to leave, before he remembers what his room looks like – and remembers that he spent a while trying to see if grinding one out would work this time. He can’t kick you out of the hideout. You look like shit, and you’ll attract a lot of attention. “Fine. Shut up.”

“Yep.” You fold your arms on the bar and rest your head on them, shutting your eyes.

Even when you aren’t looking at him or talking, your presence bothers Shigaraki. It’s bothered him since the beginning – as much as he’s bothered by the others, in a different way than he’s bothered by the others. While the others can at least manage to avoid pissing Shigaraki off, there’s nothing you do that doesn’t cause some kind of problem. If you’re talking to him too much, he’s annoyed because he doesn’t know why you’re talking to him. If you’re not talking to him, he’s pissed about that, too. If you’re not around, he’s mad that you’re avoiding him, and if you are around, he wishes you weren’t. The fact that you’re here was a big problem for him even before he started having the dreams.

Shigaraki can’t remember the details of last night’s dream, but he knows you were in it. He pours himself a drink, takes the bottle with him, and sits down at the far end of the bar from you. You don’t look up again, and Shigaraki finishes his first drink, then half of his second, with no improvement on the situation. He shifts on the barstool, trying to get more comfortable. He needs to find something else to do. Something that will distract him from how stupidly horny he is.

You’re right there, and being irritated with you for doing anything at all is as good a distraction as anything else. “If all you’re doing is making a couple of heroes slightly dumber, you’re not really pulling your weight, are you?”

You don’t stir, but Shigaraki sees your shoulders stiffen. “What else should I be doing?”

“More,” Shigaraki says. You lift your head to look at him dead on, and Shigaraki hates that so much that he loses his train of thought for a second. “I don’t want them slightly dumber. I want them so stupid they can’t walk in a straight line. You have to get closer to them for that? So get closer. Get out of here and –”

“If I make them that stupid, the heroes will know that something’s wrong,” you interrupt. “My quirk’s in the government databases. If I do anything too obvious, they’ll know I’m working with you, and they’ll change their plans. Or they’ll change who they’re using to execute those plans. For my quirk to work on someone, I need to know who they are.”

Shigaraki knows how your quirk works. He’s not stupid. “I could do what you want me to do, but it would ruin your plans,” you say. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I wanted to take a nap,” you say. You sit up straight on your stool, get to your feet and start towards Shigaraki. “Now I want to know what I did to piss you off.”

You’re coming closer. Shigaraki feels a surge of panic. “Get away from me.”

“No.” You sit down one barstool away from Shigaraki, but still way too close for comfort. Shigaraki’s skin feels hot, and in spite of the fact that he left his room wearing sweatpants, they’re getting tight. “You let me join the League, but ever since I got here, I can’t do anything right. You’re mad at me all the time, and today you’re even madder than usual.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” you say. You keep staring. Shigaraki looks away, and you say the first thing he’s ever heard you say that makes you sound like a villain. “Either you can tell me the truth, or I’ll use my quirk on myself and figure it out.”

Shigaraki’s stomach lurches. “I thought you were too tired to use your quirk.”

“Not on myself,” you say. Shigaraki glances back at you. You’re almost smiling. He’s seen you smile before, talking to Toga or Magne, but not like that. “You can tell me, or I’ll find out on my own. Your choice.”

You’re not screwing around. Shigaraki thinks fast. He could Decay you, but – Shigaraki writes off the thought before he can even complete it. He has to tell you something, and it has to be convincing. But he doesn’t have to tell you everything to keep you from using your quirk. It’s going to be humiliating, but nowhere close to as humiliating as the whole truth, and he opens his mouth and spits it out. “I’m horny.”

You blink. “So jerk off.”

“I can’t.” Shigaraki sees your eyebrows lift, skeptical as hell, and loses patience, even as his face heats up. “My quirk. Anything I touch with five fingers –”

“And you can’t jerk off without –” You break off mid-question, looking just as uncomfortable as Shigaraki feels. “So you’ve never –”

“No, I have, I just –” This is way more information than you need to know. Shigaraki grits his teeth. “You wanted an answer. There’s your answer. Leave me alone.”

You don’t leave Shigaraki alone. You actually move over onto the stool next to his. “So you’re just going to be a dick to me any time you’re horny.”

It’s your fault Shigaraki’s horny. Before you showed up, he could deal with things on his own, but now instead of videos and games to fixate on he has fantasies – because he can imagine about what you’d look like under him, what you’d sound like, what you’d feel like. All of which are the worst possible things for Shigaraki to be thinking about right now. He’s completely hard, again. Maybe you can tell, or maybe you’re using your quirk on him after all, because you’re making a really weird face. “If you’re going to be a dick any time you’re horny –”

You break off. Shigaraki thinks, fleetingly, about Decaying you. At this point he’d rather Decay himself, because if even he kills you, he’ll still have to remember that this happened. You take a deep breath, let it go. “Do you want help?”

Shigaraki’s mind blue-screens for a second. “What?”

“If this is why you’re like this, then it’s easy to fix,” you repeat. Your hands are clenched into fists on your thighs, and you slowly uncurl them. “Do you want me to help?”

“Help with what?”

“Jerking off,” you say. You make an awkward gesture, and every muscle in Shigaraki’s body goes tense as he imagines your hands around his cock. You have to be messing with him. There’s no way you’re actually offering – that. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Shigaraki finishes his drink and stands up before he can think any more about it. He grimaces as his cock strains against the fabric of his pants, and feels a surge of embarrassment when he realizes you’re looking at it – but it’ll be over soon. In the face of getting some, and getting it from you, nothing else matters. “Let’s go.”

Shigaraki’s nerves kick in on the walk back to his room. Not enough to make the hard-on he’s coping with fade even slightly, but enough to remind him that this is probably a bad idea. But you’re following him, and you haven’t changed your mind. Shigaraki’s not chickening out first. The nerves get worse when he opens the door to his room and realizes what a mess it is. “Uh –”

“Where do you usually sit?” You don’t look impressed – or disgusted, now that Shigaraki thinks about it. “On the bed?”

Shigaraki sits down on the bed – which he didn’t make, because he never makes it – and you sit down next to him. You don’t do anything. “I thought you were going to help me.”

“Show me what you do,” you say. Shigaraki stares at you. His heart is racing, his pulse hammering so hard that he feels it everywhere. “Go as far as you can, and then I’ll keep doing what you do.”

That makes sense, probably. Shigaraki’s mind is startling to scramble. He decides to think about it later and catches the hem of his shirt, hiking it up and out of the way. He knows from experience that it’ll slide back, so he pins it between his teeth and reaches down to his waistband, shoving at it until his pants are down around his thighs and his cock is free.

His hard-on looks like it feels. Uncomfortable, leaking, hot to the touch when he wraps three fingers and his thumb around his shaft. Shigaraki tries a few of the same insufficient strokes as always and feels the muscles in his abdomen and thighs clench. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. A frustrated sound edges out around the fabric in Shigaraki’s mouth. Aren’t you supposed to help him? He looks at you. You’re looking away.

“Hey,” Shigaraki says, the hem of the shirt falling from his mouth, and you look at him. “You wanted to help. Pay attention.”

Your face is flushed. You nod, and you reach out – but only so you can grasp the hem of Shigaraki’s shirt and pull it out of the way again, your knuckles brushing over his abdomen in a way that makes him twitch. You’re sitting closer to him now than you were before, close enough that he can almost feel the heat of your body, and imagine how it would feel to have you pressed against him. One of your hands is holding his shirt up. The other comes to rest on his lower abdomen, fingertips brushing through his hair, centimeters away from the base of his cock.

Shigaraki squirms involuntarily, trying to move your hand lower and jeopardizing his own strokes at the same time. Even when he lifts his hips to meet his own hand, he can’t lose control the way he wants to, can’t chase the feeling he needs. He needs it. He needs it and he’s never come even close to having it, until now. Shigaraki tries to focus. You’re only going to help once he’s gone as far as he can, so he’d better get there as fast as possible.

He shouldn’t have told you to pay attention. Now you’re watching everything, your face still flushed and your eyes glued to Shigaraki’s every move, taking everything in. Do you like this? Do you like watching Shigaraki’s pathetic attempts to get himself off? Whether you like it or not, you’re still touching him when you don’t have to. Shigaraki’s fingers tighten involuntarily around his cock, his fourth finger almost coming down, and he loosens up in a hurry. But that’s no good, either. He tries again.

It’s the same as always. Shigaraki makes it one or two strokes before it gets dangerous, enough to show him what he could have and not enough to get him there. He’s sweaty and his heart is beating too hard and the same frustrated tears as always are stinging his eyes. He curses, lets go – and a warm hand slides between his legs to replace his.

Shigaraki almost comes on the spot. It takes every ounce of willpower he has, and he almost blows it again as he watches you adjust your hold on him, shaping your hand more closely around his cock. You’re slow about it, but you sure as hell aren’t hesitant. Shigaraki can’t look for longer than a few strokes. It’s too humiliating to see the intensity of his own reaction, precum oozing from the tip of his cock and his hips jerking upwards into your hand. He clenches his jaw and shuts his eyes.

“Hey. Pay attention.” Are you making fun of him? Shigaraki opens his eyes and finds you looking at him. “I need to know if I’m doing it right.”

“What do you think?” Shigaraki forces the words out through gritted teeth. “Do you need me to tell you you’re doing a good job or something?”

“That might be nice,” you muse. Your hold on him loosens slightly – not enough to complain about, more than enough to read as a threat. “Since I can’t do anything else right around here, I at least want to be good at getting you off.”

Your grip tightens again, and you run your thumb lightly over the tip of Shigaraki’s cock at the end of the next stroke. Shigaraki couldn’t pull a move like that if his fucking life depended on it, which it would. He was going to tell you not to ask stupid questions, like if you’re good at getting him off when he’s two seconds away from blowing his load all over himself, but instead he moans, so loudly that people can probably hear it two streets away. You replay the same stroke, slower this time, pulling Shigaraki’s back into an arch to match the upward motion of your hand, and then you spend a few seconds just toying with his tip, barely touching him at all.

Are you trying to make him squirm? Shigaraki hates that it’s working, hates that you won’t just give him what he needs – but then you’re back to stroking his cock again, and Shigaraki relaxes, as much as it’s possible to relax. It feels good, even better than he thought it would. And even better than that, because he doesn’t have to do anything. All he has to do is sit back and enjoy it.

“Hold your shirt up,” you say, and Shigaraki grabs it clumsily. Your now-free hand traces quickly down Shigaraki’s chest, along his stomach, skidding sideways over his hip before sliding between his legs. There’s not room for both of your hands. Shigaraki spreads his legs without thinking twice.

You make a weird sound – maybe a gasp. “Stop that,” you say, but now you’re cradling his balls in addition to stroking his cock, so Shigaraki’s not interested in stopping much of anything. “It’s working.”

No shit it’s working. Shigaraki’s entire body is wound tight, so much that he can’t even twitch or thrust or squirm – all he can do is strain, agonizingly tense, every atom of his body focused on the motion of your hands. Shigaraki squeezes his eyes shut. His shirt crumbles away as he claws at it, the sheets on his bed going the same way a second later as he fights to ground himself. He needs more. Shigaraki needs to come right now, before he grabs onto something he can’t replace.

The word struggles out of his mouth sideways, twisted and strained just like the rest of him. “Please –”

You don’t answer him, but Shigaraki feels you shift closer to him. He opens his eyes and you’re right there, close enough that he can feel your breath against his skin. You’re watching him, head tilted, lips parted, so close. Shigaraki’s so close, and he needs more from you. He seizes the front of your shirt to pull you down to him, only for it to Decay when you’re halfway there. But Shigaraki gets lucky. You lean in the rest of the way and press your lips against his.

It’s not because of that. Shigaraki’s coming hard enough to see stars, hard enough that he blacks out for a second, but it’s not because you’re kissing him. His cum spills everywhere, onto his sweatpants and his stomach and over your fingers, and you keep stroking him with slick hands. You don’t pull away until Shigaraki’s whining against your mouth and you’ve drawn out every drop of cum he has to give.

And then you sit back, and let go, and look away. “I need a new shirt.”

You’re sitting next to him, on his bed, in just your bra. The sight would get Shigaraki hard again in an instant if you hadn’t just made him come hard enough to disconnect his spine. He raises a shaky hand and points to his hoodie, slung over the back of his computer chair, but you don’t go for it. Instead you get up and head to the bathroom to wash your hands.

Shigaraki needs to wash everything. His sweatpants, himself – the stupid mattress, since he was dumb enough to Decay the sheets off it right before he blew what feels like the biggest load in history. What else was he supposed to do, though? No way was he going to be able to control himself while you worked him over. No way is he going to be able to think about anything else the next time he sees you do anything with your hands. Or with your mouth.

It occurs to Shigaraki vaguely that while he’s solved the initial problem of being too horny to function, he’s set himself up for something even worse – more dreams, made all the more vivid because he’s got experience to back them up. He might be good to go for now. Probably for the rest of the day, since it’ll be a miracle if he can do anything other than clean up and take a nap. But he’ll be right back where he started the next time he wakes up from another dream about you.

The water from the sink shuts off, and a moment later you come back out, snagging Shigaraki’s hoodie off the chair and pulling it on over your bra. Shigaraki feels a faint twinge of foreboding at the sight, but it fades fast. Sure, he could wake up tomorrow morning with the boner from hell and it’ll be all your fault. But now he’s got a way out of it, and the way out of it is so good that what it takes to get there barely even matters. And he’s in a good enough mood to admit to himself that you do things right a lot more than you do things wrong.

Which reminds him – “Hey,” Shigaraki says, still humiliatingly breathless, and you pause in the act of pulling the hood up. “You did a good job.”

He might still be out of breath, but your face is still flushed. “Good,” you say, and you turn to leave. Shigaraki doesn’t hear you speak again until you’re already out the door. “Next time I’ll do better.”

Better might kill him. Next time. Shigaraki pulls up his sweatpants so his dick isn’t hanging out, makes no other effort at cleaning up, and falls asleep with something that feels like a smile on his face.

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Looking for Part 2? Click here!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.

[mrsshabana]

Modern/after all odds Gyutaro definitely did it on the motorcycle despite the risk in being a secluded alleyway or smth since someone was needy and impatient. Gyutaro would have it on or even rev it up sitting backwards while having y/n ride him. The hypersexual thoughts have lead me to a wild imagination once again 😞 Also can I be the 🍰 anon if its not already claimed? ^^

𝐀𝐀𝐎 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⋆ 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, Against All Odds au, public sex, vaginal sex, creampie (if you aren't familiar with my Against All Odds fic, it's an au where demons live amongst humans in a modern au. And all of the kny demons go to university with reader.) ꒦꒷‧₊ Note I decided to write about AAO Gyutaro since I really miss writing that au! And of course, you can be the 🍰 anon if you'd like. Sorry for answering this so late btw. I've been working on other things lately but I was in the mood to write something quick today so I hope you all enjoy it. ♡

"That fucking student council meeting took so long, what the hell were you guys talking about anyways?" Gyutaro growls as he parks his bike behind the science building.

"Douma couldn't decide what color banners we needed for the festival this weekend," you giggle, watching your boyfriend's face contort in annoyance.

"Idiot," he rolls his eyes and turns off his bike, "Making me wait so damn long..."

You look around, confused as to why he is stopping behind the science building on campus. "Um Gyu, why are you stopping here?"

He flips around so he can face you and begins to unbutton his pants, "Cuz I'm gonna fuck you."

'WHAT!?" You yelp, and Gyutaro immediately covers your mouth with his hand.

"Shut it!" he snarls, "I've been so horny all goddamn day ever since you put on that stupid skirt this morning. And now since you made me wait so long, I don't have any other choice but to fuck you right here."

He smirks and pulls his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, already incredibly hard. The large vein that runs down the side of it already popping out, that's how you know he's been hard for quite a while.

"B-Babe I-," you start but he cuts you off.

"Shh, it's ok. The sun's already gone down so no one will see us. I promise..."

He bites his lip and pulls you in for a kiss. His other hand goes under your skirt, slipping into your panties to feel you've already started to get wet. But how can you not when seeing him so hot and bothered for you?

Pleased by this, he groans and pulls you into his lap. Slowly bucking his hips, gliding his cock along your slick panties.

"Gyu..." you whimper, "maybe we should move off the bike. I wouldn't want it to fall over..."

"Typical human, always worrying," he smiles, showing off his sharp teeth, "It won't fall over, I promise. My feet are on the ground so I can balance it while you ride me."

"R-ride you?" your entire face goes red. Usually, your boyfriend is on top, taking control and plunging into you aggressively is his favorite way to have sex. So it isn't often that he asks you to be on top, but you can't deny that you enjoy doing it. And he does too, it's just that most days he can't stop himself from fucking you silly. But today he doesn't have much choice.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it right?" He smirks mischievously as if challenging you.

"Of course I can!"

"I dunno... maybe you're too weak to take it. I mean you are just a pathetic human after all," he teases.

You furrow your brows, determined to prove him wrong. So you lift your hips, move your panties to the side, and gently lower yourself onto him.

"F-fuck," a breathy moan leaves his lips as he sinks into you and bottoms out.

"That shut you up, huh?" you tease back as you begin riding him.

He can't deny that you took his breath away, he didn't expect you to take control like you did. His nails dig into your thighs as you pick up the pace. Moaning loudly as you bounce on his lap, squelching sounds filling the air as his thick shaft splits you apart.

"C-C'mon babe ah, if you k-keep movin' like that I'm gonna cum too soon," he clenches his teeth and tries to hold back his moans.

"I don't want us to get caught," you gasp, "Ngh- you do want to cum in me don't you?"

"C-course I do," a needy moan escapes him. He moves his hands to your hips and begins to move you up and down, assisting you in your motion.

You lean forward until his cockhead slams into your sweet spot, "Ah- right there!" Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the mess between your legs spreads all over your thighs.

Your legs are beginning to feel sore but you're too determined to chase your high to even care. Moving faster and faster despite the pain and your thighs trembling.

Usually, your boyfriend would take over at this point but he's too high on cloud nine to pay attention to anything but the way your slick walls wrap around him and squeeze him so tightly. Making it impossible for him to hold back any longer.

And with a strained groan, his nails dig into your skin, his cock twitches inside of you, and he leans back - accidentally revving his bike. But he's too busy filling you with his seed to even care.

Wanting to make sure he got his cum as deep as possible he tightly grabs your hips and thrusts up into you. Creating an absolute mess. A combination of his cum and your slick splattering all over your skirt and the seat of his bike.

You were already getting so close, but now the breeding instinct of your demon boyfriend brings you over the edge. Your walls tightening around him as your desperate moans fill the air.

Gyutaro smirks, pleased with himself as you slump over onto him. Feeling your body shake uncontrollably, he feels satisfied.

"That's it baby," he whispers as he gently kisses the side of your face, "You did so good for me."

"We should do this again sometime..." you whimper and nuzzle against him.

He smirks, "Hell yeah, but let's get you home and cleaned up for now."

He ignores the mess on his bike and pulls his pants up. Then he turns, positions himself properly, and shifts his bike back into drive.

"You good back there?" he shouts, making sure you're holding on tightly.

"Mm hm," you nod, wrapping your arms around him and leaning your head on his back.

"Y'know, maybe we could do this every week after your student council meetings," he snickers as he revs the engine.

[burdenandacrop]

i need a fic with schlatt or ted (or both (separately)) obsessing over the reader’s tits. like, tongue in there, kisses, squeezing, the sorts.

- angel 💙🪽

˗ˏˋ ❝ developed a taste for you. ❞ ˎˊ˗

oh delicious, delicious, de-LISH. this is rather detailed so i hope you enjoy ! :> i'm honestly so happy someone requested ted, i go guh guh guh over that man.

summary : this is pretty much just straight to the point, not really a plot. giving the entree to you personally.

⋮ ⌗ ┆body worship, INTENSE praising, breeding kink??, a bit- messy??, more subby than anything, fem reader.

schlatt

the night was only growing older, but in his eyes; it couldn't last long enough for his liking. the two of you lazily laid on the bed as the haze of the television purred, your attention more focused on whatever broadcast was playing. his eyes stuck on how your gaze was transfixed on the screen, then slowly down to how your arms were gently crossed. coincidentally, giving him the perfect view of one of his favorite parts of you. the cherry on top being the fact that you were wearing one of his shirts. that thin athletic material was doing you justice, he felt like if he looked long enough he would feel a pool of drool spill onto his lap. it was pathetic but it was a perfect display of just how enamored he was by you.

"this isn't boring to you?" he spoke out, interrupting the silence between the two of you. you cocked your head over to his direction to see the sight of him leaned against the headboard, you knew exactly what lied under the tone of his words. "it's late night tv- what? is it boring to you?" you reply, gently adjusting yourself to face him more. the sudden movement causing a slight ripple to occur with your chest, and it was obvious where schlatt's eyes were wandering. "not what i asked." he muttered, his eyes trailing from your chest back to your face. his tongue slyly fiddling inside his mouth, as if he was trying to manifest the taste of you. he was awfully terrible of hiding how he felt. especially when it entailed when he needed you. every part of you.

"you're not making a lot of sense tonight, are you?" you softly giggle out, the clear message from him hitting you in the face. he didn't care about the stupid broadcast, he was wasted on the thought of you. something that still kept you confused, as to how he was still so caught up with the idea of you. "just thought you'd need something more- what is it." he states, clicking his tongue as he ponders on what to say, his eyes failing him as he eyes your shirt's fabric perfectly creasing with your cleavage. "entertaining. yeah, that." he finishes, letting out a quiet sigh as he tried his best to get a hold of himself. not that he really wanted to anyhow. he knew he was making himself obvious. he wanted it that way.

you drop your shoulders with a sigh that was a silent motion of giving in. your arms relaxing against the fluffy pillows, only giving schlatt a much clearer view of what he so desperately craved for. you softly grinned as you saw him shake his head, looking back up into your eyes with a knowing look. "what's your idea of that?" you chuckle out, only sending him further off the edge. he knew you knew exactly what he wanted to do. you saw how his face gently scrunched from the irritation, "oh please don't play that card tonight, baby." he pleaded, before pushing himself closer to you, softly pressing his lips onto the crook of your neck. the sudden gesture making your needy whimpers escape. "not tonight." he whispered into your neck as his lips continued to place deep kisses along your sweet spots over and over.

he quickly found his left hand groping along the cup of your breast. gently groaning as he felt the weight of it in his palm, his thumb swirling around your nipple. loving how quickly he could feel the bud growing harder under his touch. how excited he could get you, with little to no effort. he was going to put some effort into his work, especially tonight. he really couldn't understand what his deal was tonight, but it felt like he'd never done this before. as if it was a delicacy he was just now granted, all just for him. his right hand began tugging up the shirt, letting his hand roam along your soft skin. the delicate feeling under his fingertips was enough to drive him absolutely crazy. he pulled his lips off of your neck and looked down to the sight of your chest.

he let his hands pull up the shirt as his eyes were stuck on the enveloping scene in front of him, the second your breasts popped out; he was done for. quickly cupping his hands around them and leaning down to latch his lips around the left one. the sudden motion making you fall back, only exciting him further. his low growls escaping his muffled lips as he sucked down, his hands wrapped on the side of your waist as he continued. he loved how your body contorted as he touched you, how you became human clay for him to mold. his fingertips pressed down into your skin as he circled his tongue on your sensitive bud, making sure to keep you in place as he explored every nerve ending. "god, you're perfect." he muffled out as he continued his pacing.

you felt your stomach flip as he said that, he was always treating you as some other worldly being. something you still had to adjust to. your neck crooked back as he continued, hungry and desperate for anything from him. the second he felt your body start to move, his fingertips were quick to hold you down. as if he wanted you to just sit through this and take in every last shock. in which he absolutely did. "you don't even have to-" he groans out as he trips on his own words as he keeps his other hand gripping your free breast. "you don't even have to do anything." he grunted, you looked down to the sight. seeing how knitted his eyebrows were, his eyes shut as he focused so intensely on how he wanted to worship you in this way. it was utter perfection.

his grip on your breast became increasingly stronger, his other hand roaming along your side to keep you steady. "so full." he choked out before peeling his lips off, a long line of saliva connecting his lips from your breast. "fuck." he sighs out, looking back up to you with his warm brown eyes. you knew exactly what that look was. what underlies under the sweet nature of it. he kept his hand on your other one, letting his hand sprawl out so he could get a good handle of it. watching as it moved with him, the weight of it making him want to just pass out right then and there. "need to knock you up just so i can watch em' get bigger." he mumbles out, the desperation growing in his voice. you were honestly too stunned to speak with such a statement from him. you saw how his eyes slowly blinked as he eyed the wet spot on your nipple, aching to just latch right back on.

with that one look, that's all he needed. the longer he looked, the better it was. he took his two hands and pressed his thumbs into each nipple before rubbing gently along the sensitive buds of them, circling his hands to make them bounce right in front of his eyes. the sight was only making things worse, he was even turned on by the veins showing through your skin. in fact, he loved when he noticed you had a new one he could see. just meant that they were getting bigger. more for him to play around with, it was evident he was always going to be a tits guy. "fuck- could you imagine?" he muttered out once more, almost stuck in a haze from how beautiful he found you. even if it was just this one part of you, you knew you weren't going to find another who would eye you like you were some sort of art piece.

he took a soft gulp as he realized the sight was genuinely making him salivate, a bit embarrassed at the fact but who cares. he loved his lady. "might need to make that happen." he whispered as he continued pressing his thumbs into your nipples, loving how you were still so sensitive to the touch. a sly grin growing on his lips as he saw how ready you were. "this is about you, baby." he groans out before pushing your breasts together to slick his tongue between. the warmth making his entire head spin, his eyes closing as he began to lose control of his senses. every little thing was you now. how soft you were. your scent. your porn worthy noises. he was absolutely whipped in the best way possible. "all about you." he groaned out before latching his tongue back onto your left breast, lapping his tongue over and over.

the feeling was beginning to feel a little overstimulating, he could tell as well with the whimpers you were making. he just kept licking the right spot that made you jolt, to the point it could drive you numb. "everything." he muffled through the desperate kisses on you. he shook his head as he continued, "beautiful." it was catching up to you quickly with a feeling you didn't even know you could possess. a sharp inhale shooting from your lips as you felt the shock run through your body. your eyes widening as you realized on what the possible feeling was, schlatt's face poking back up to look at your somewhat distraught look. "thought those were a myth, didn't you?" he snickered out, making you sigh and poke his shoulder with a defeated expression. "you watch too much porn." you mutter softly with a groan. "seems like it came in handy." he said with a shrug. he was such a smart ass, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hated any bit of it.

ted

it was another excruciatingly hot day in LA, who's shocked? at least ted's apartment had decent AC. not good enough to the point you could wear normal clothes though. you had been sitting on his couch in nothing but your basketball shorts from high school and a shirt that didn't make you profusely sweat from the fabric. somehow. you knew ted was supposed to get back to his place sometime soon, or at least he said he would. you knew deep down it was silly to just be sitting here when the two of you were basically just good friends who fucked occasionally. heavy on occasionally too, he couldn't get a hint even if it hit him. you could throw yourself at him and he'd think it was some sort of bit.

now the times he actually got the hint? that was a different story. the secrecy of it all also got you going, considering he was quite- the popular one. to put it in a nice way. hot nerds get a lot of play, okay? you just knew if your friends knew you were smothered by the heat on his couch patiently waiting for him to come back, you'd have a humiliation trial done on you. in which the heat was really about to get the best of you. your eyes wandered over at the numerous quirky wall pieces he had, seeing a small framed photo that looked oddly familiar. your eyes squinting to attempt to make it seem clearer. that effort not working, you rose off the couch and slowly walked over to it. your eyebrows knitted as the realization began to strike you right then and there.

a little polaroid perfect encased in a frame, the two of you. honestly, you assumed he just threw it away. considering it was taken on a night where you had too many cocktails and became a mess of a person. he didn't though. instead, left it on display right in his hallway. a small smile appeared on your lips as you noticed the dark pink kiss mark on the side of his face in the polaroid. did any of it have some sort of meaning? were you looking too far into it? he had plenty of female friends, he probably had numerous photos with his other friends pinned to his walls. your eyes roamed the walls to try and track down any other ones. a wave of ice ran through your body as it hit you. you were the only photo he had on the wall besides the nature or nerd posters. that felt weird. some part of you just wanted to toss the fact to the back of your head.

you brought yourself closer to the framed polaroid, as if you were trying to investigate every little pixel of the photo. maybe there was something hidden behind it, maybe if you just looked close enough. your eyes transfixed on the glass before you realized there was a large fingerprint right where your face was. you couldn't see it unless you moved your head to let the light hit the glass. was the fingerprint his? if so, why would he be ... poking? it? such a stupid small picture was arising so many questions in your head. maybe it was the heat exhaustion, praying that was the outcome of your endless thoughts. right as you were almost booping noses with the glass of the frame, you heard the sound of the front door's locks being jingled. your head whipping around to be met with a sweaty ted, who was wearing a very ill fitting tank top.

"you actually waited up for me?" he chuckled out, as he wiped his face afterwards. quickly shutting the door behind him and fixing the locks, it was LA after all. you were somewhat stuck between speaking and silence. you didn't know which was the right answer. on one hand, you felt like a loser for waiting so long just to see him. then there was the other feeling of just wanting to run into his arms. you couldn't decipher what that collision was. "your ac is better." you stifled out, immediately palming your face internally. what kind of response was that? what has that stupid polaroid done to you? even the stupider fingerprint. he also looked somewhat perplexed on your answer. running a hand through his sweat filled hair, you could see how his pomade was beginning to fail him. those perfect little strands falling on his forehead, he really was a pretty one.

"thought you said my apartment sucks?" he sneered out with a grin, walking over to you and eyeing where you were standing. beginning to think to himself, why on earth were you just looking at his wall art? you tongue your teeth as you ponder on how to back yourself up, "change of heart." you say with a shrug, fully turning your body to him with a weakened grin. "you're so fucking weird." he chuckled out before standing right in front of you, you really couldn't ever get tired of that sight. especially with how he looked right now. his freckled shoulders with the sun-kissed tone. how you could see how dark his eyelashes were from how sweaty he was. really was a sight to behold. "you hang out with me, so what does that say about you?" you shoot back, making him force a pained expression sarcastically. closing his eyes tightly to be dramatic with a wince, "mean too..." sneakily opening up one eye to peek at you with a chuckle before shaking off his expression. "anyways, i gotta hop in the shower." he adds on.

with that, it was as if something overtook you. not exactly sure as to what it was. but you were thinking about him. all day. now seeing all of this in front of you, it was basically a gift. "wait-" you choke out, a bit too dramatically for your own taste but. whatever. he looked to you with a hint of confusion, but also curiosity. "what's with um." you sigh and point over to the polaroid, and look back to him and stick your hands in your pockets to appear more on ease. even if you were the complete opposite. "the uh. picture." you end with, clearing your throat. his eyebrow tilted up and looked to the polaroid, "nice night." he sighed out, his tone a bit more softer. which was surprising considering how he normally spoke. "you didn't notice the gundam poster? just that?" he snickered out, going right back to his normal personality.

"yeah. i saw the- all the nerd shit." you mutter softly, a bit defeated with his reply. you wanted something more. just something to explain the weird gut feeling you had. "i think it's a nice set up." he replied rather quickly, as if he was trying to convince himself of something. you just couldn't tell yet. "you fit well with all my other favorite things so." he adds on hesitantly, looking into your eyes with a slight grin. hoping to anything that could hear him that he wasn't sounding stupid in this moment. you felt the weight lift off of you, as if it was some burden stuck in your chest. without a second thought, you rose your hand to his bicep. just letting it rest there, watching as his eyes followed your hands. suddenly, a quiet beeping could be heard. you cocked a brow as you looked around the room to find out where it was located. ted quickly looked down in embarrassment to his apple watch and smacked it quiet.

your hand left his bicep before you looked back into his eyes with confusion, "what was that?" you question him. he nervously chuckled and shook his head as he tapped his apple watch's screen off. "just- stupid glitch." he stifled out, waving his arm back down to his side. you slowly nod and narrow your eyes at him, not really understanding quite what the hell that could've been. what if it was some other girl trying to get a hold of him? that was the last thing you wanted to know right now. especially in this moment. "well, get it fixed." you state as you raise your hand to rest on his bicep again. you didn't know how to send the right signal, so you were hoping this was gonna do the job. he looked down at you with a grin, his eyes softening as he watched your expression.

then, there it was again. the beeping. now the creeping thought of another girl trying to reach him was settling further into your brain. it had to have been. you remove your hand once again and look down to his watch, but before you could get a good view of what it was. ted quickly pulled it away, tapping away the beeping. "seriously, what is that?" you questioned further. ted's face only growing more nervous, shaking the watch on his wrist. "it's just being stupid." he stammered out, but as he brought up the watch. the screen lit up again. you finally saw what it was. "why is your heart bpm 102?" you ask with concern, which quickly made him pull away his hand and back to his side. "i worked out, remember?" he nervously chuckled out. hoping you'd buy it.

you didn't. you knew there was something hidden under his tongue. you look to him in silence for a moment and look to his arm and back to his eyes. contemplating on what your next plan of action would be. you quickly raise your hand back up and let it rest on his collarbone, immediately feeling as his chest tightened. "you're being silly, yknow tha-" ted tries to explain, but is interrupted by his watch. yet again. your eyes widen and look down to his watch, his heart rate was through the roof. "shit." he sighs out, tapping away the incessant beeping. he knew was in deep shit now, he couldn't play the nonchalant card any longer. you eyed him as you could see the embarrassment filling his face. "stupid watch." he says before sliding it off with a groan. immediately reaching his hands on either side of your head and pushing his lips onto yours. making your balance falter, causing the two of you to crash onto the wall as he hungrily kissed you.

it happened so quickly. what was in the air today? was it his workout? all you knew in this moment was how sweet he tasted, oddly enough. he pulled his lips off of yours, still keeping his hands wrapped on both sides of your head to keep you tightly in his grasp. "this what you wanted?" he breathily stated, his fast movements catching up to him. "you knew that already." you choke out, lightly licking the moisture off your lips. "and you didn't know you made my heart do that by now? bullshit." he stifled out before mashing his lips onto the crook of your neck, dropping his hands down to your breasts. giving them a tight squeeze as he bit down gently on your neck. "keep coming around me and i might have a heart attack." he groans as he muffles through your skin. as odd as the sentence, it kind of made the goosebumps on your skin raise. you had that effect on him?

you closed your eyes due to the ecstasy, quickly wrapping your hands to his back to pull him in closer. you guys have slept together a couple times but something about this felt so different. as if there was hunger bridled into it. you backed your head into the wall, feeling the soft canvas of a painting on the back of your head. hoping you wouldn't cause anything to fall, especially the polaroid. he was quick to pull up your shirt, itching to feel how your skin felt under his hands. the second he knew your skin was exposed he dropped to one knee to better focus his lips on the area. the size difference was making you ready to just pass out. his hands roaming on your hips to stabilize himself better, his soft lips landing on your breasts as he smothered them with deep sloppy kisses. you moved your hand to your shirt to just throw it off, giving him a full view of what he desperately wanted.

"can't believe you trash this." he groans into your skin, letting his hands crawl up your skin to squeeze the bottom of your tits. getting a good handful before sucking down. the sudden shock throwing your balance off once again, but he was ready. grabbing your ass to keep you steady. it was almost annoying of how much he knew. how much he worked on 'perfecting his craft.' you suddenly felt his tongue slip up and all around your breast, sending a shock down your body. it was so messy but it was so worth it. seems it always was when it was him. "you waited here all day for this?" he stops himself to say, looking up into your eyes. "and be honest about it." he breathily states. you look down to him, a bit bummed that he stopped.

"i just want you." you reply, knowing just how pathetic you sounded in the moment. you could almost see his ego grow as you said it too, his stupid smile as he took it in. "glad you held your promise then." he chuckles before mashing his lips back to your breasts, licking up and around your nipple. "reasons why i have you on my favorites wall." he groans into your skin, gripping harder around the edges of your breast. every word he spoke made your spine shake, this was the answer you were pleading for. on top of the electricity he was putting into your body, this was all you could've ever begged for. you grabbed the edge of his chin to bring him up, making him trip and fall onto you. looking you into the eyes as he stabilized him by grabbing onto the wall, "just say it again." he practically whispered. "i just want you." you reply almost instantly, making him slyly grin. "i can arrange that." he chuckles out before mashing his lips back onto yours.

author's note : sorry for the small hiatus !! also holy shit i didn't know how different i write for ted. 😭 butttt !! i hope you enjoy, and i am pleased to tell you i am FINALLY back home and able to write to my hearts contents. gonna be working on submissions all night !! :> thank you all for the sweet messages and patience with lil ol me. you all are SEWWWW KIND !!!

[intoanotherworld23]

Not Free To Go

Summary: Sheriff Tyler Owens catches you breaking into his home, and he takes you back to the station to teach you a little lesson

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, dominant Tyler, sheriff Tyler, submissive reader, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, use of authority, mention of crime, attempted burglary, implied sex

A/N: comments and reblogs are totally appreciated to show support for your writers! If you wish to be added to my Glen Powell tag list let me know so I can be sure to add you! Thanks everyone so much! XOXO

Hall of hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Glen Powell: @djs8891

"So you like breaking into peoples home huh?" The sheriff asked sternly as he bent you over the cold steel table. “Well you picked the wrong fucking house to break into.”

"I'm sorry." You whimpered pathetically as his foot pushed your legs further apart. In fact too far apart you could feel a slight burning in your muscles on your inner thighs.

"Oh now you're sorry." He chuckled devilishly at your poor excuse of an apology. You broke into the sheriffs home, and all you had to say or could say was just a plain and simple sorry. "I think you're just sorry you got caught.”

You weren't meant to get caught at all. It was just a dare that went too far, and you're the only one he was able to grab. Your stupid friends dared you to break into the Sheriff Tyler Owens house, and try to find something nice and expensive. Only thing is you didn't expect him to be at home waiting.

Then he had no time in driving you back to the station throwing you in a cell. There was something about the way he handled you, and looked at you that was dark. There was something much more than anger behind his eyes. You couldn't quite tell what it was though.

"Please I'm sorry I wasn't going to steal anything." Hoping that would make things better, but the sheriff just ignored you knowing that you were just lying.

"Were you by yourself or with friends?" Hands patting your legs squirming in his hold.

"Isn't a female supposed to check me?" You asked turning your neck to get a better look at him.

"Shut the fuck up." He raised his voice at you. "You lost that privilege when you decided to break into my home."

"You can't treat me like this." Speaking out again.

"Better watch that mouth sweetheart or it's gonna get you in big trouble." There was something in his tone as he said those words that had your thighs pressing together. It was the kind of trouble a woman like you was looking for.

"Or you'll do what?" You were really pushing him this time.

Tyler was fuming at this point, and all he had on his mind was teaching you a lesson. The way you talked back to him like a spoiled child. You were just asking for a punishment. There was only one way that he knew for sure would work.

"Now answer me." Feeling his hands now patting close to your area. "Who else was with you?"

"Nobody." You lied quickly not wanting to rat on your friends like that.

"I don't believe you." Tyler responded as he swatted at your inner thigh making you jump. The smack echoing around the room.

Most people would be terrified being in this position, but right now you were incredibly turned on by how dominant he was becoming. You couldn't help but feel you weren't the only one feeling this way.

"I'm telling the truth, sheriff there wasn't anybody else." Pleading with him to believe you. He still wasn't buying it.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time." His voice quieted as his thick hand pressed against your clothed core. "Was there anybody else?"

"What are you gonna do?" Whispering loud enough for him to hear fear and lust evident in your voice.

"Whatever I want with you." His hand smacking down where it laid your legs folding together.

The air had left your lungs, and it felt as if someone turned up the heat in this room several degrees. The only sound that could be heard was your heavy breathing. It felt like the room was closing in on you two, and there was no way to escape.

Quickly opening your legs back open for him. Feeling his hand back on you as he kept it there for a few seconds. He could feel how warm you were between your legs, and he was loving it. He was glad that you were feeling the same mood that he was.

“I bet you are just completely soaked down there.” He was stating more matter of factly than a question. It was the truth though if you were wearing any pants you would be dripping down your legs. “Bet you’ve got a creamy little cunt too.”

You could tell him you don't want this, and scream for help in hopes someone would come running in and stop all this. Instead you chose not to, and wanted more. You were hungry for his touch, and lust was all you could think about.

Tyler rubbing his hand up and down the pants you had on the fabric pressing into your clit. A tiny whimper slipping past your lips. Biting down on bottom lip hoping he didn't hear that. The air around you was becoming thicker making it harder for you to breathe.

"That feels good doesn't it sweetheart?" Tyler grinned knowing exactly what he was doing to you. Putting more pressure on your core just wishing he could feel how drenched you were for him. He wanted nothing more than to reach his hand down your pants, and collect your juices on his fingers.

"Just tell me what I want and I'll let you cum." Tyler whispered seductively in your ear pressing his now fully clothed erect cock into your backside.

Pushing unknowingly back against him to feel more as he kept rubbing his hand up and down more aggressively this time. Tyler saw what you were doing and chuckled to himself. He let you keep it up for a little bit before pulling away from you making you cry out.

"Ah ah ah." Pulling his hand away this time too not letting you get exactly what you wanted right away. "Not until you tell me what I need."

He already knew the truth that you didn't work alone, but he was the one in charge right now, and he needed to hear you say it. Right now he needed you to submit so he could also get what he wanted.

"Okay fine there was others." Blurting out finally telling him the truth just so desperate to feel anything at this point.

"Good girl." Patting your ass with praise making your cheeks heat up. "See that wasn't so hard now was it."

Before you could even respond the same hand that was rubbing on you was now sliding your pants off down to your ankles. Pushing past your panties feeling exactly how turned on he was making you. Tyler almost growled at how drenched you were so quickly.

"Fuck you are wet for me aren't you?" You could only respond with a moan unable to even speak as he touched you like a piece of artwork.

Able to easily slip his fingers inside of you pushing all the way to his knuckles. Your mouth hanging open as he pulled out and then pushed back in. Immediately starting a rhythm that had your body rocking against the table.

“Such a tight little cunt for a little thief.” Hissing more to himself than you as he watched your walls suck his fingers inside of you.

Pressing his whole body into you so that you were squeezed between the table and his body. Wanting nothing more than to rip yours and his pants off, and fuck you until tomorrow. He had patience though, and knew it would be worth it to hold out a little more.

"Is this what you wanted?" His tone condescending, and you felt ashamed for wanting this so easily.

"Yes yes yes." You babbled out already feeling the pressure building between your legs.

Tyler wanted a different response as his free hand smacked your ass harder this time. This time you could really feel the sting from the impact. He wanted you to know he was the one in charge, and the one with all the power right now.

"You wanna say that again sweetheart?"

"Yes sheriff." Responding back to him hoping that's what he wanted.

"That's a good girl for me." He praised again his fingers going faster this time as his palm smacked against your pelvis.

The suction noises echoing in both of your ears hearing exactly how drenched you were. Feeling your ears and cheeks burning a sudden embarrassment washing over you. Tyler was loving it though more than he ever thought he would.

Maneuvering his thumb so he could rub your clit pushing you over the edge. Crying out as his hand grabbed your mouth to keep you quiet. Hushing in your ear, but never once stopping or slowing down his movements.

"Can't have anyone know what I'm doing to you in here." Whispering in your ear as he nibbled on it. "Can you imagine what they would say if they caught you fucking the sheriff?"

That's the last thing you wanted for everyone in this town to hear about this. To know how easily you folded for him, and you broke into his house. Your reputation would be completely tarnished, and nobody would look at you the same.

Tyler knew he had the upper hand here. He knew you wouldn't say anything to anybody, cause they would probably take his word over yours. In fact Tyler might even keep you around longer to do this again.

"Dirty little thief spreading her legs to keep from going to jail." He kept going as if it was a shared secret between you two. "You'll do anything to keep from going to jail won't you?”

It came out more like a statement than a question because he already knew the answer to that one. He could tell you were the type of girl who would do anything to avoid jail time.

"Please." Begging him feeling so close to release already.

"Please what?" He teased again knowing what he wanted. Not wanting to let you get off so easily without having to work for it first.

"Please sheriff I wanna cum so badly." That was all he needed to hear for motivation. His hand gripping onto your hips as his fingers literally drove themselves into you pushing and pulling your body. Clenching around his fingers as your hands gripped the edge of the table.

Tyler’s fingers stayed still inside of you as they curved inside motioning in a come here action. Gasping loudly as you turned your head to bite into your arm at the motion. Tyler having you right where he wanted you.

Your entire body was on fire right now. Your legs were already trembling, and you didn't know how much longer you'd be able to last. Thank god for him holding you otherwise you'd have collapsed to the floor.

Tyler’s inner beast was banging against the cage wanting to be let out. All he wanted to do was devour you right against this table. He wanted you completely at his mercy, and to hear you beg for his cock.

Watching as your body wriggled under his hold, and how you couldn't control what your arms and legs were doing. It was like something was possessing you, and Tyler was the reason. Who would have ever thought getting caught breaking into the sheriffs office would leave to an amazing orgasm.

"Fuck yeah I want you to cum for me." Growling into your ear. "Want to feel that cunt cum around my fingers."

That was all you needed to hear as your entire body tightened. Legs shaking as your orgasm came over you violently. Mouth hanging wide open as whimpers and moans left your lips.

Tyler keeping you in place though against his body his cock really pressing into you. Imagining the whole time it was him inside of you instead of his fingers.

Your entire body felt defeated and weak. Not being able to lift your head or even move your arms. All that was just from him fingering you. Not sure if you were gonna be able to handle his cock now.

"Fuck I could tell you needed that." Tyler joked as he soothingly rubbed his hand up and down your back.

If you weren't in such a state of bliss you would have felt so ashamed for what you just did. Not being the type of girl who would spread her legs for just anybody. Let alone the sheriff of this town.

"Am I free to go now?" Asking timidly wondering if he would let you go.

"Oh no baby girl," hands gripping onto your hips harshly, "I'm not nearly done with you yet."

"But I told you what you wanted to know." Cranking your neck to look at his reddened face, and blown out eyes staring down at you.

"You still need to tell me your friend's names." That made your eyes go wide. "For that you get to cum around my cock."

[adams-angels]

Talk to me

Adam X f!reader

🎸I hope I do you all justice. Don't be mad if this isn't very good. I generally am not very good!🎶

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Smut below. Minors dni thx

This isn't the first time you and Adam argued. It sure as hell won't be the last but today was a little different.

It's started off fine. You were at Adams apartment for the weekend. You made him breakfast, he showered you in kissed, shared a bit of banter... And that's where it went wrong. You said something which made Adam say something unexpected and worse. So an argument ensured. It ended when Adam had been called into work.

The last thing you said was "fine, I won't say anything ever again." It was petty! You were being petty. It's not like you hadn't said it before but you always did speak again, of course you did! But no. Today was different. You were keeping to your word.

Adam got ready to leave. "Okay. I'm going now." You looked up and nodded. Not even a kiss goodbye was had. He left the apartment scowling while you stayed up and sulked.

As the day went on her texted you. "Ugh, work is so dumb. Idk y they even wanted me in 🙄" you picked up your phone and read it. You made sure to read it. So he would see that you saw it. Petty.

Now you know Adam. You know Adam needs attention 24/7. Even if you're not together you need to text him back. You need to make sure he knows you're still there. You're still his.

So of course he saw the read receipt. He knows you have your phone in your hand. "What are you ignoring me?" Read. "Don't be so pathetic." Read. "Why are you doing this?" Read. "whatever! You think I care?! I'm FUCKING ADAM! I'M THE FUCKING DICK MASTER! I DON'T NEED YOU!" Read. "ANSWER ME?!" Read. "Haha, check out this meme." Read. "Please say something." Read.

You had him reeling. His trust issues taking over his mind. What if you've left him? What if fucking Lucifer's got his tiny ass claws into you?! "NO!" His wings flare, he charges towards the nearest window and takes flight. He can't stand you ignoring him. He can't stand the thought of you leaving him.

He lands on his apartments balcony, you're not in the livingroom. His heart pounds in his chest. Opening the sliding door he enters his apartment. A very broken "hello?" Escapes his lips. No response. The silence is too much.

He explores his apartment, a bead of sweat forming on his temple. "Y/N?" He heads towards his bedroom and there you are. Lying in bed. You're not asleep, you're on your phone, still ignoring him. You could of swore you heard a sigh of relief. It doesn't take long before he's back to his arrogant self. "What up sugartits? Still not talking?" That cocky smirk fills his mask.

He hops into bed next to you. You glance up at him, that stupid smile. "What? I didn't do anything, babe. C'mon, why don't you just say something?" You respond with a glare. He sits up, his smile waivered slightly at your resistance. He brings himself close to your ear, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I know how to get you to talk."

His hand slides down your arm, to your waist then your thighs. You know where this is going. With no resistance from you he moves one of your legs, spreading them. His fingers trace along your pantie line, just to tease you. You can feel your face flushing. "You're too cute, babes." He muttered, causing you to look up at him. As soon as your eyes locked with his, he moved your underwear to the side. Sliding a finger between your folds. He can see you holding back a whimper. "Wow, you're already soaked? Thinking about my cock all day, huh? Of course you were."

He continued sliding a finger between you, gently hitting your clit cause you to twitch. But still no sounds from you. He frowns slightly. "Why don't you tell me how much you want it, Gorgeous." It was so hard not to break. How much your wanted to tell him you wanted him. But no. Then he would of won. He always wins! You hold strong. "Fine." He grunts as he gets up. He crawls between your legs whipping off her robe revealing his, always surprising, massive cock. Throbbing with anticipation.

"I'm gonna make you beg." He grumbled. He wasn't happy you were still not saying anything. At this point he missed your voice. He missed your laugh. Your tuts. Your groans. Anything. Any noise! He wanted you do make a single sound. You watched as he positioned himself and got ready for him to thrust into you. He grabbed his member and lined up with your entrance and stopped. You looked up at him confused. That smirk was back.

He began jerking him against your aching cunt. His tip brushing against your clit you can't help but whimper. You quickly cover your mouth. "What was that babe? You want me to fuck you?" He asked with that shit eating grin. You nod, looking at him with desperate eyes. "Use your words, baby." You furrowed your brow, positioning your feet you buck your hips to try and get him inside of you but he's too smart for that, pulling himself away. "Nuh-uh. Words, y/n. Use them." He purred, teasing you. He moved back, continuing rubbing himself off on you.

You whined in frustration and desperation. "Fuck 'm getting close, babe." Your eyes widen. No way was he close, but his brow twitched which told you he wasn't lying. He was going to cum soon. "Fuck me Adam! Please fuck me! I need you!" You begged. "ah, you want me now?" "Yes, please. Please Adam?" It didn't take him long before he was inside you. Feeling your walls clenched around his thick member. You moan in ecstasy. Adam, gripping your waist, pulling you as close as he can so he can get deep inside you. "Fuckin' feel so good~ such a good girl." He grunted, pounding into you.

It's hard to read his true expression with that damn mask on, uou managed to get your fingers under the chin of his mask and pull it off. You can see his flustered face, how desperate and needy his eyes are. "Sso p-pretty anh~!" "Shut up.." he burrows his head in the crook of your neck, embarrassed, small whimpers escape his lips as moans roar out from yourself.

"Fuck, y/n-!" His arms wrap themselves around your waist as he holds you down and close. Filling you with his seed. His head still pressed against the nook of your neck. "'m sorry..." He whispered into your skin. Your arms slid round to his back, gently running your fingers up and down his back. "Please don't ignore me again." He mumbled. "I won't. I'm sorry." You reply, holding each other close.

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed this one shot. It was fun to write! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

[god-has-entered-my-body]

On a train (again) - Matty Healy x fem! Reader

A/N: oh my god hello im alive i think. classic abouttofillhisshoes era style banner im going back to my roots. mpind revival no one was ready for ❤️

content warnings: smut, blowjobs, fingering, switchy throughout for sure, fingering, sex in public spaces the fucking freaks cant wait, they get caught and its as terrible as it sounds

word count: 1.7k

This is a horrible idea, you're sure. 

A cheap soap bar clatters onto the ground as you somehow force the door of the bathroom shut, squeezing you and matty into the cramped space. There's barely any room to stand, your knees touching his and foreheads pressed against each other, both of you panting heavily as Matty’s grin makes something stir inside of you. 

“We’re fucking mental for this, you know that?” He breathes out, that stupid smile contagious as you roll your eyes at him, smashing your lips together in a heated, sweaty kiss. 

The train rumbles underneath you and you can hear fellow passengers chattering outside, the danger of it all having you drip into your panties, soaked through in a matter of seconds. Hands roam aimlessly up and down your figure, clothes torn off haphazardly as Matty paws at your lacy bra, desperate enough to pull the cups down instead of unbuttoning it as he usually would. You dont have enough time for propriety, definitely not. 

“Need you now, want you so fucking bad babe.” you moan into his ear, lips attached to you throat as Matty bites and sucks messy hickeys into the skin of your neck, his tongue finding the little charm of your necklace in an instant. The cursive M that dangles on a dainty silver chain, forever in plain sight drives the boy insane, his eyes glued to the metal while his fingers work at pulling your too-tight skirt up and over your hips. 

His hands squeeze the fat of your sides, kneading and bruising the skin harshly as you whimper into his touch, hands scratching his back raw, red lines visible in the crooked mirror behind him. You see a light flicker, but pay it absolutely no mind when Mattys fingers finally pull your thong to the side, not even bothering to slip it off. No, he needs you just as much as you need him. Right. Fucking. Now. 

The rough pads of his fingers swipe at your clit and you let out a whine, a hand quickly clamped over your mouth to muffle your noises. The door might be thick, but it isn't soundproof. The thought of someone walking in on you in this precarious position makes your heart thrum in your ribcage, and an excited smile creeps up onto your lips. 

“Fuck, oh my god, Matty.” you whimper as he speeds up, curls obstructing your vision but not hiding the way Matty bucks his hips forward, back flexing in the mirror behind him in a way that makes your breath hitch. 

You're breathless, Mattys fingers working at a dizzying pace and the feel of his cold rings grazing your walls makes you clench around him, earning yourself a proud chuckle. “You’re so fucking hot, angel. Got me rock hard for you, all f’you” Matty’s voice is raspy, low as he whispers filth into your ears, the knot in your core tightening with each syllable that leaves his spit covered lips. “Doing so good for me sweetheart, gonna make me come s’fast.” you slur your words, but the praise spurs him on, his non dominant hand holding you tightly and you can barely contain the pathetic moan that threatens to rip itself from your throat as the heel of his hand grinds against your clit deliciously. 

It doesn’t take long until you're close, it can't, given the location you’re both currently in. You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you whisper the words “M’xlose, fuck- please baby.” into his ear, burying your head into his neck as your orgasm washes over you in mind numbing waves, Matty’s tongue nipping at your earlobe driving you fucking insane. 

And right when you think you're done, exhausted, Matty takes his slick covered fingers, and sticks them into his own mouth. The way he sucks on them is absolutely obscene, and it awakens something more inside of you. “Y’taste so good darling, like honey.” you’d cringe at his painfully cheesy comment if it wasn't for the lust filled look he was giving you, eyes filled with suggestion and willingness.

You dont think as you drop down to your knees, banging your heels against the door in the process. The position is cramped and awkward, yes, but all of that fades away the second you see the way he strains against his jeans, twitching at the way you look up at him, batting your mascara covered eyelashes. 

“What's got you this worked up, hm?” you tease, a hand coming up to squeeze his ass firmly, making Matty yelp in surprise. “You’re a fuckin minx is what you are. Got me hard and now you’re teasing.”

“Jesus, you complain too much, don't you think?” you bite back before biting for real, taking the fly of his jeans between your teeth and pulling it down slowly, relishing in the way Matty threads his hand into your hair, tugging unintentionally as his fingers catch a knot, making you whine at the sudden strike of pain and pleasure through your body. 

Matty whimpers and leans against the unstable sink behind him, gripping onto it with his other hand. The faint wet spot on the front of his boxers as you pull the trousers down makes you giddy, licking your lips in anticipation. Matty knows better than to say something now, not when hes so fucking close. “Please.” is the only word that slips past his pressed together lips before you take him out of his underwear, pressing a teasing kiss to the tip of his leaking cock. 

You resist making a comment on how wet he is, wanting to make this last at least a few minutes before he spills down your throat. But its just too fucking good to pass up. 

“God, you're just soaked for me, aren't you angel? Just need me that badly.” 

Matty nods frantically, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy as you guide him into your mouth, the warm wetness of your throat sending him into a frenzy. He feels like he's reached some sort of other world, pure pleasure enveloping his body as you tongue at him, your little hums of satisfaction at his reactions making him louder and louder, threatening to expose the both of you. 

Matty’s eyes widen as you guide his hand to push you forward, nodding slightly as he gives you a look of confirmation. “You’re a fucking wet dream, fuck.” 

Your mascara flows freely down your cheeks as he grips your hair harshly, pulling you back before thrusting his cock back into your warm mouth, small gasps of pleasure filling the cramped bathroom. 

The both of you freeze when you hear a quiet back from outside, scared to death it might be a knock. Ten seconds go by, then thirty, and you're sure the person had moved on once realising the door was locked. You shoot Matty a relieved look, and he giggled in return, whispering an exhilarated “Could you imagine if they had realised what we were doing in here? Id fucking die of embarrassment. 

“You’re getting your dick sucked, how could that possibly be embarrassing?” you answer, raising your eyebrows at him, and a string of spit connects your lips to his tip. Matty doesn't take his eyes away from that spot the entire time you speak. “Yeah, in a train bathroom, it's all dirty in here!” 

“Can’t be dirtier than what we’re doing, can it?” you grin, sticking your tongue out to lap up the precum drooling from his cock. 

The feeling of him hitting the back of your throat over, and over, and over again makes you drip between your thighs, your hips shifting slightly to try and get some friction on the seam on your panties. Matty pants loudly, biting his lip as your eyes tear up even more, your makeup absolutely ruined in your effort. 

“M’so fucking close, darling girl, fuck you feel so good.” He moans, tightening his grip in your hair even more, forcing you in place as he fucks your throat, hard. You can barely form a coherent thought, the sound and smell and taste of him filling every sense. You arent prepared when we finally does spill into your mouth with a guttural groan, holding you down as the taste of come lands on your tongue. You swallow, much to Matty’s satisfaction, but not before showing him the remnants of his orgasm.

“Gonna fucking kill me babe, that was amazing.” You grin at him, aching knees almost buckling underneath you as you get up to kiss him, his little whine a the taste of himself on your lips makes your head spin. The bathroom reeks of sex and sweat, your hair is a mess and Matty’s shirt is still half undone as you open the door and peer out, being met with a pair of piercing blue eyes. 

An old man stares at you from a seat facing the bathroom, a look of disgust on his face as you pull back into the space, the horror evident in your expression telling Matty everything he needed to know. 

You both do the walk of shame down the aisle, making uncomfortable eye contact with multiple passengers who you now know definitely heard you. God, were you embarrassed. 

By the time you make it back to your still empty seats, both of you are red in the face, yet still giggling at the absurdity of the situation.

“Never again. We are never doing that again.” you force out, letting your head fall onto his shoulders. 

The both of you burst out into a fit of laughter as Matty replies. 

“Was hot though, you on your knees-” 

“Never. Again. “ 

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt 57

part 1 | part 56 | ao3

“I need a ride.”

Max is glaring at him over the counter with a skateboard tucked under her arm, no hello and no further explanation because why should he deserve one? Seriously, what is this? National Annoy Your Babysitter Day?

Steve leans over his side of the desk and rests his weight on his forearms, giving her an unimpressed look. "Did Dustin put you up to this?"

"To... needing a ride?" she asks him like he's stupid. God. All these kids are little assholes.

"Uh, yeah to needing a ride." He straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest and resting a hip against the counter. "How do I know this isn't some convenient little-" he snaps his fingers for the word "-little scheme you shitheads cooked up to get me to sub in for Hellfire?"

"Steve," she says with feeling. Tucks her chin and holds his gaze. "Do I look like a dork to you?"

And, like, he can’t not take the opportunity, right? She handed it to him on a platter. He scans his eyes over her face, playing it up and humming to himself like he's just really not sure, like he needs another minute to think hard about the question.

"Oh, screw you!" She flips him the bird, but he can tell she's trying not to smile because he’s doing the same thing. Can feel himself caving already like a total softie. Something about these kids, man.

"Okay," he says; feels his face doing something tender and vaguely pathetic. He can't have her thinking he's gone too soft, though — that's how he ends up with another 'unlicensed teen driving his car while he's concussed' situation on his hands — so he pushes off the counter, widening his stance and pointing at her. "I’ll give you a ride, but you can't touch my radio.”

"Fine."

"And I'm dropping you off by 5:30."

That one, she protests. "Five-thirty?”

"Five-three-oh. I have a date tonight."

"Ew."

Wow. The goddamn entitlement. Like he isn’t doing her a huge favor right now. "So what I'm hearing is that you don't want that ride after all."

"I didn't say that," she says in a low rush.

"Mhmm." He glances down at the clock. "My shift's up in ten minutes. You can hang out in here while I finish up if you don't make a mess."

"Oh, if I don't make a mess?" she mocks. "Wow. So generous."

"Thank you," he answers. He goes back to working, keeping an eye on her browsing the aisles while he runs through his end-of-shift tasks — wipes down his work space, pulls his drawer. She seems bothered. On edge. Every time he glances over she's either tapping her foot or chewing her lip or throwing tense looks over her shoulder like someone's watching. If Steve didn't know her he'd think she was psyching herself up to shoplift.

But Steve does know her; knows all the crazy, horrifying shit that she's seen.

The twitchy way she's moving is starting to give him goosebumps.

When he goes to the back to clock out, to put his stuff up and say hey to Keith, she follows him. Hesitantly calling his name down the hall, a nervous quiver in her voice.

"Steve," she says, poking her head around the office door. Quiet. Urgent. Her face so suddenly pale that she looks carsick.

Keith wipes grease on a stack of reports and says, "Hey, you can't be back here," through a mouthful of chips.

Max ignores him. "Steve, I need to go."

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, one second, just gotta—"

"—No, now."

Steve turns and starts counting his drawer as fast as he can. The numbers jumble in his head. He curses under his breath and starts again. Twenty, forty, sixty, seventy—

"Steve!"

"Okay, Jesus, I'm hurrying!"

Eighty, eighty-five, ninety, ninety-one, two, three—

Max snatches his keyring off of his vest.

“Hey! What the- Max!” he shouts as he chases after her.

She’s already tugging open the driver’s side door by the time he catches up. Got a headstart while he was begging Keith not to fire him for running out without finishing his count.

"What the hell?" he demands, wrapping a hand around the fist she’s holding his stolen keys in.

She glares at him over the car door. “I’ve driven it before.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t have my permission then, either, you little shit.” Steve pries her hand open and takes back the keys. Frowns at her as she sneers right back.

Fucking stalemate with a fourteen year old girl, that’s what Steve Harrington’s life has turned into.

But under the bravado he can see that she's afraid, that something's seriously spooked her, and he needs to know what it is.

“…..Go around,” he sighs and slides into the car.

—

part 58

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

[xhoneygirlxx]

Fade Me

Older!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: your night is ruined when your date is a no show. maybe the handsome stranger at the end of the bar can fix it.

warnings: slight angst. reader is 30, Eddie is early 40s. Modern au! Reader's date sucks. Eddie is a sweetheart. Fluff. Swearing. Shitty writing and grammar mistakes!!! Not proofread!!!! Also Minors go away, I'm an 18+ blog.

*if I missed anything lmk

a/n: WELCOME TO MY BIRTHDAY BASH EVERYONE!!!!!!! I'm so excited to be celebrating with all of you guys!! This isn't my best work but I think its cute and that's all that matters. Love you all and hope you guys like this <3

Oh, maybe, you could devastate me.

Little lady, come and fade me.

Everything at the moment was pissing you off, setting spark to the last small fuse that sat within you. The pain from sitting on the hard bar stool was shooting pain right to your tailbone, not going away no matter how many times you switch your position. The unforgiving squeeze of the uncomfortable heels radiated pain all over your feet and you knew they would be swollen in the morning. The group of rowdy girls at the back of the bar were shrieking with joy over something you have no idea about, but you did know that you wanted to drag all of them by their scalp and remove them from the bar. 

This was stupid, so fucking stupid, and you knew from the very start that it wasn’t going to work. It never does and the next time you see your friends, they aren't going to hear the end of it. Dating sites and dating in general were things you didn’t like to partake in and for good reason. 

Out of all your friends, you happened to be the only single one and you were fine with that, but they weren’t. They begged you, since the moment you broke up with your college sweetheart, to get back out into the dating world. It was actually irritating that they cared so much about your relationship status so much, if you were hooking up with anyone, all under the guise of wanting you to be happy. Truthfully they did want you to be happy and they knew you craved having a relationship, but you were pissed and wanted to stew in your own anger.

Well, right now you were everything but happy. In fact you were furious. Furious with yourself, with them, and most importantly your stupid ass date, Luke. After your thirtieth birthday, your friends all but tackled your phone out of your grasp, making you a stupid tinder profile. 

“Thirty is the new twenty one, babe,” Dahlia said as she and the two other girls scrolled through pictures to post. 

Twenty one your ass, you think, especially with the way you’re fighting a yawn at only nine thirty on a Friday night. 

So you gave in, swiped on a few different people who snatched your attention, one of them being Luke. He was handsome, smiling brightly with a bottle of Corona in his hand and a pair of Raybans perched on the bridge of his nose. His bio was simple, straight to the point, and it was the least douchey thing you’ve read while on the app. 

After making short conversation, you learned that he was an investment banker, working in the Citibank building downtown. His interests were the same as yours, very shy yet loved to have a good time with friends. The best selling point was his dog, Cali, that could be seen in a few of the other pictures he had. 

You were sold, with his witty banter and the fact that he had his life together at thirty two didn’t make the decision hard, especially when all the other people you know that are your age don’t have a solid plan. Which in argument's sake is fine, however you weren’t getting any younger and the want to get married and start a life with someone was getting strong, even though you’d never admit it to your friends. 

So that’s why you’re sitting in a swanky bar in downtown Indy, waiting patiently for your date, who happens to be an hour late, in a dress you spent sixty dollars on. It was a pathetic feeling really, putting this much faith into a stranger in the hopes of finding the one. It’s actually why you didn’t want to do it in the first place and why your friends would have to face your wrath when you get home. 

The buzzing of your phone on the wooden bar jolts you awake, the wave of adrenaline coursing through your veins making your heart pump erratically. 

IMessage 

Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand. 

With a defeated sigh you turn your phone face down, not having the energy to cuss the asshole out for making you wait so long. Pulling your focus on the bartender, you flag him over and order a martini. Dry martini. Very dry. 

When the man places the glass in front of you, he gives you a weak smile as if he knows what’s happening. He probably does know what’s happening, he’s probably seen this happen more times than he’d like to admit and it only adds to your frustration. 

Muttering a small thanks, you take a big swig from the crystal glass, letting the liquor burn down your esophagus. It hits your stomach causing an instant burn, more fuel to the fire that’s been shimmering below the surface. The pity you started to feel has now turned into a new found rage. 

Quickly picking up your phone, you ignore the burn from the sting of the bright light, and tap on Luke’s text. 

Staring at it, you can feel the fire ripping through your body, all the anger and embarrassment you’ve let build up while sitting here coming out as you read his last message. 

Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand.  

You: That would’ve been awesome to know about an hour ago. Thank you for wasting my Friday night asshole. 

Before you can text more insults, a gruff voice interrupts the quick tapping of your acrylic nails on the screen.  

“Trust me sweetheart, he’s not worth it.” Pulling your gaze from your phone, you try to find the owner of the voice. 

Turning to your right you see him, two seats away from you, tucked away into the corner at the end of the bar. You’re not sure when he got there or if he’s been there the whole time but his presence alone is pissing you off. You’re ready to aim your dagger like tongue at him and tell him to go fuck himself when you take in his appearance. 

A plain black tee shirt pulled taunt across his broad chest, tattooed arms squeezed by the material just right. On his hands sits more black ink and nice silver rings, gleaming in the low light of the bar. His hair is brown with a streak or two of salt and pepper mixed in, wisps of hair framing his face from where it fell out of the low bun it’s been pulled into. The crows feet by his eyes are fitting, especially when his dimpled smile is peaking through from where it sits behind his glass of whiskey. 

He seems older, at least from the discolored hair and stubble on his chin, but he’s very handsome. Actually he’s hot and if you weren’t so mad right now, you’d be flirting with him. That’s not the case though, not when he has a smug ass smile on his face like he’s all knowing. 

“What d’you know?” You bite back, waiting for the handsome stranger to answer. When he takes more than a second to answer, you cock an eyebrow at him like it’s taking him too long. 

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” He replies cooly, putting his glass down on the coaster, “Don’t text her, it’s not worth it.” When his eyes meet yours, you can’t help but stop breathing. 

Big brown eyes looking right at you, so soft and gentle. You sink into the warmth of his eyes on you, almost letting yourself drift away. But you’re mad and this stranger is the perfect person to let it all out on. 

“No they’re not a she, and even if it was you don’t know anything.” You look back down at your phone, tapping away at your keyboard finishing what you had started. When you hear him huff out a laugh, the frown that was on your face before quickly deepens. 

“You’re right, sweetheart, I don’t know anything. What I do know is when a pretty girl like yourself has been sitting alone at a bar for longer than an hour and suddenly starts tapping away on that thing, like you are right now, I know she’s been stood up.” 

His statement brings you right back out of your phone, willing yourself not to wipe that ‘know it all’ look right off of his pretty face. Your scowl is piercing right through him, hating the way that he could see right through you and yet not having a clue who you were. 

“Hey, I’m not judging,” He throws his hands up in surrender, “But I promise, whatever douche made someone as stunning as you, wait in a bar this long for ‘em, doesn’t deserve you. Plus, you’re too pretty to be lookin’ that angry.” He picks his glass up, finishing off the rest before nodding to the bartender for another. 

In any other situation you’d be telling them off, yelling at them to get lost, but something about this stranger feels different. You could write it off and say it’s because he’s attractive but in all actuality, it’s because he’s gentle when he says it. His eyes aren’t roaming your body like some pig, hoping to get into your panties by sweet talking to you. It’s like he actually cares about you, the stranger in her pretty dress who has been stood up by her date, like he’s known you his whole life. 

Slowly you set your phone down, relaxing the sour look on your face, and you take a deep breath. The last thing you want to do is cry, especially in a bar, and especially in front of the caring hot stranger. 

“Is it that obvious?” You ask shyly, picking up your martini glass for another sip. The man shakes his head, moving his posture so that he’s leaning towards you. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, “Don’t start thinking down on yourself. Yes it was a little obvious but my suspicion grew more when you didn’t order a drink after sitting at a bar for five minutes.” 

The statement makes you laugh wetly when he says it, a single tear escaping your eye causing you to wipe it hoping it’s not noticeable. If he sees it, he doesn’t say anything, instead moving over to the seat next to you. 

“Listen, don’t let whatever dickhead person ruin your night. From what I’ve witnessed you’re a pretty badass chick, so whatever frat bro did this to you should be scared.” An inked hand places a white napkin in front of you, a peace offering that you’re quick to take. 

“That’s the worst part, he’s not even a frat bro. He’s a finance bro.” When you chance a look up at him, he’s looking right back at you, pearly white teeth staring at you. 

In a split second he’s laughing, a deep belly kind of laugh with his head thrown back. As much as you want to defend yourself, tell him that Luke wasn’t your first choice, you can’t. Following suit, you start giggling as well, placing the white napkin to the corner of your eye to collect any unushered tears. 

“I gotta tell you sugar, that’s even worse.” The pet name doesn’t get lost on you, heart stuttering the minute it falls from his lips. Trying to pull yourself together, hoping he didn’t see the way you stiffened at the name, you clear your throat. 

“Tell me about it,” You playfully roll your eyes, taking a sip of what’s left of your drink. 

When you move your sight back over to him, he’s leaning back, dimples showing off, almost like he knows something you don’t. He does know something however, he knows that he has some sort of effect on you, watching you with pink flushing your cheeks and it’s not from the alcohol. 

“So,” You break the silence, “Sugar, huh?” You furrow your brows questioningly and it only makes him smile bigger than before. 

When he leans forward you catch a whiff of his scent, pine and cedar, musky and smoky. He’s even prettier up close and your eyes are trying to map out every detail of him so that you can remember it when you go to sleep tonight, dreaming of the good looking stranger who made your night better. 

“Well, between the softness of your laugh and your scowl that could kill,” his voice is low and husky, saying a secret for only you to hear, “You have a little bit of sugar and spice. Kind of like that cartoon with the badass power wielding girls.” 

“Do you mean the PowerPuff Girls?” Cocking your head to the side you laugh, his true age showing in the way that he described the Cartoon Network show. 

“I’m showing my true age, huh? Well, in my defense I was fifteen and you probably weren’t born yet.” His crows feet become more defined. Shaking your head, you wave to the bartender for another martini. 

“Actually, I was five but you were close enough.” His eyes go wide in shock with your admission. When another glass is placed in front of you, you send a smile to the bartender and he gives you one back. 

Looking back at the man next to you, you raise an eyebrow, questioning why he’s so surprised at your age. Blowing out a big breath it seems he’s been holding the whole time, he takes a swig of his own drink. 

“Sorry, I just,” he sighs, looking back up at you quizzingly, “wow, you’re really thirty?” Although there’s no malice behind his question, you can’t help but frown at him. He notices and immediately back tracks. 

“Fuck, no not like that I just meant,” You wait for him to dig himself a deeper hole. When he finally gets his thoughts together, he looks at you, really looks at you and it makes you want to melt. “Listen, I really didn’t mean it like that, I promise. Honestly, I felt like a perv when I first started talkin’ to you, thinkin’ you were like twenty one. When you said you were thirty, I was just surprised, that’s all. Maybe a little excited knowing I might have a chance.” 

You take in what he says to you, how sincere his voice is, and you know he isn’t lying. You don’t want to give in so fast though, you want him to sweat it out a bit. So you take a sip of your drink, your eyebrow still arched in fake annoyance. With an extra shot of courage, you look over at him, fake pout on your red stained lip. 

“How can you have a chance when I don’t even know your name?” Your voice is like silk, smooth and soft. The older man clearly likes it, the way a smirk is formed on his pink kissable lips is a clear indicator. 

“M’Eddie, Eddie Munson,” He offers you his ringed hand for a handshake, “And you are?” You give him your name and he hums with delight. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

You snort loudly at his comment, covering your mouth to stop from any further laughter from falling from your lips. Eddie arches an eyebrow at you, questioning what you found so funny. 

“I’m sorry, that was just so corny.” Another giggle slips from you and the cool facade he had crumples, laughing along with you. 

“S’pretty bad, huh?’ He scrunches his nose and you think it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Yeah it was bad, who told you that would work?” You take a sip of your martini and look at him from over the rim of your glass. 

Chuckling and shaking his head, Eddie rubs his forehead as if he’s stressed. Now he’s the one fumbling and nervous, you got him in the palm of your hand. 

“Goodness, it was going so well too.” You continue to tease, the playfulness dripping from your voice. Looking over at you Eddie can’t help but smile, those damn dimples back on display. 

“You’re trouble, sugar.” It’s said with the utmost confidence and it has you blushing.

“Oh you haven’t seen anything yet, babe.” It’s an invitation for him to find out and you hope he catches it. 

“How about I find out on Sunday over dinner and some drinks? What do you say?” Eddie leans into you when he says it, getting the closest he’s been to you, letting his husky voice fill your ears. 

Trying to hide the chill that runs up your back and the excitement that settles in your belly, you lean in just as close. “I’d say you have a date, pretty boy.” 

The two of you stay like that for a minute, smiling like giddy teens. Breaking away from the small moment, he pulls his phone out from his pocket, unlocking it and opening up the phone app to type in a new contact. 

Handing you the phone, his face seems boyish and giddy, you’re sure if he wasn’t sitting he’d be bouncing on the ball of his feet. Typing in your number, you shyly smile up at him handing back his phone. 

“I better hear from you Eddie Munson or finance bro won’t be the only one gettin’ his ass kicked.” Pointing a finger at him, you try your best to look as mean as possible but your plan quickly fails when you see his eyes shining at you. 

“Yes ma’am.” Throwing a wink at you, he reaches into his wallet and pulls a crisp hundred out and places it on the bar top. “I’ll be seein’ you soon, sugar.” Wrapping his fingers around yours, he places a kiss to the back of your hand. 

The feeling of his lips on your skin makes you ache for more, and the moment it’s gone you wish you can make him do it again. Pulling your lip in between your teeth, you look up at him like he’s hung the stars. 

The moment is cut short when the bartender asks Eddie if he wants change. Surprisingly he doesn’t look at the older man with anger for ruining it, instead he gives him a nice smile. 

“No Paul, the change is all yours. Also, this beautiful young lady’s drinks are on my tab.” Nodding his head, the bartender thanks Eddie for the generous tip. 

Pulling his attention back to you, he cuts you off before you can chastise him for paying. “Let me pay for the pretty girl who made my whole night, it’s the least I can do.” 

Rolling your eyes, you try hard to not let him see how flustered you are. When he bids you a goodnight, you can’t help but feel the ache of his absence. The whole time you’re in the Lyft home you think of him, staring out the window and replaying everything in your head. 

Once you get home, you sit in silence on the end of your bed, not worrying about the shower you need to take. You can’t believe the luck you had in meeting Eddie and a part of you wants to thank Luke for not showing up. 

The ding of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, your heartbeat picking up when you read your screen. 

Maybe Eddie: Hey it’s Eddie, just wanted to make sure you got home safe. I wanted to ask if you could thank that loser for not showin up, he really did both of us a favor tonight. 

When you read it, you can’t help but giggle a little. Although corny and maybe a little dorky, Eddie had thought the same thing as you and for some reason it sent the butterflies in your tummy on a rampage. 

Maybe Eddie: You’re totally laughing at me right now, aren’t you?

Bursting into laughter, your tummy flips in excitement, imagining him blushing on the other side of the phone. Tapping away on your screen, you send him a reply. 

You: Oh you know it 😉

You: Thank you for making sure I got home by the way, I appreciate it. 

Eddie: I should’ve known. Glad you got home in one piece. 

Eddie: Night, sugar. See you Sunday 🖤

Fuck a text, you were going to send Luke a thank you card and maybe some chocolate.

I hope you guys liked this! I can't wait to continue this week with all of you! See you all tomorrow with the next fic :)

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[turtlecleric]

bay!donnie x female reader, angst/hurt/comfort; technically nsfw but this is not a spicy fic

ah fuck. cws: negative thoughts? negative self-image? I... think that's all?

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Truthfully, you should've seen this coming. Work has been hard lately. You've been feeling a little down and a lot stressed out for a while now. Tired all the time. That negative voice in your head speaking up more frequently, other people's words cutting a little deeper than usual. Amplifying the negative and brushing past the positive, letting things get to you even though you know sometimes your brain is a lying asshole.

So, really. You should've known. You should've said something. Something about how sensitive you're feeling. How normally you love a good mixture of degradation and praise but right now you really, really need him to stick with praise. You should've said something. 

But you didn't. 

The tears come suddenly. The dull ache in your chest sharpens, like a shard of glass, wedging itself between your ribs and pressing in further with every inhale. You feel like you're not getting any oxygen at all, your lungs seizing as your breaths quicken. You can't- you can't breathe. 

Just a stupid fucktoy, Donnie had called you. And normally you love that. Normally that's perfect - you've come to the sound of those words plenty of times before. But now…

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. A stupid fucktoy. That's all you're good for, isn't it? You can't do anything right except be used. But, oh, you can't even do that right, can you? Because now you're crying, and he's stopped using you. He's stopped, and you're truly useless now, and you're so so fucking stupid. 

He calls your name. Takes the gag out of your mouth. Gently wipes at the tears streaming down your cheeks and asks if he's hurt you. If he went too fast, if you weren't fully prepared. If you want him to stop. 

You can't speak, but you shake your head. 

“Dove, what is it? What's wrong?”

Nothing. Everything. You. It's just you, you're what's wrong. You're wrong and useless and stupid, and you can't breathe. 

“Hey, hey, you're okay. It's okay, here, come here, it's okay.” 

He's holding you. Cradling you to his chest as you sob like the pathetic thing that you are. When the soft cuffs that held your hands behind you are released, you can't help but cling to him and bury your face in his neck. The sounds you're making are so ugly, so whiny, and you- you hate yourself. Fuck, you're pathetic. He's murmuring sweet words, brushing a hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. He’s kind, and gentle, and you…

You don't deserve it. 

Donnie is confused. You can tell he is, and you want to explain but at the same time you don't. It doesn't really matter, though. You wouldn't be able to make yourself speak even if you did want to. Everything is too much right now, and you still can't breathe, and you're starting to feel sick to your stomach. 

Stupid. Why are you so goddamn stupid?

You cry. And cry. And cry. Muscles stiff, face swollen, you're miserable and exhausted and fucking mortified. Donnie was feeling good. He was enjoying himself, and you ruined it with your tears. Ruined it. Stupid girl, you ruin everything. 

You try to apologize. It comes out garbled, but somehow he understands. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Dove. You've done nothing wrong.” Donnie presses a kiss to your hair, still running a hand up and down your back. Soothing, kind, gentle, he's everything. And you don't deserve him.

Time passes. Sobs turn into sniffles, which start to come farther and farther apart. When you finally go completely quiet, he's still murmuring sweet words into your hair. 

You feel sick. Tense. Nauseous and shaky and gross. Inside and out, you feel wrong. Hollowed out, scraped clean of everything except this ache in your chest that won't go away.

Stupid. So fucking stupid. 

Donnie moves, still cradling you close with one arm as he leans forward and reaches for something. A blanket is draped over you. You hadn't even realized how cold you were, but the relief is instant. Your muscles start to fully relax, and you find yourself melting into his hold even further. 

He presses another kiss into your hair. “What happened, my love?”

You swallow thickly, glad that your face is hidden in his neck. You don't want to tell him. It feels so- so stupid. For you to have reacted like that. For you to be so affected by nothing. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Nothing, nothing, that's all you are. Nothing. 

“I'm going to list some things. Just shake your head or nod for me, okay?”

After a moment, you nod against his neck. 

“Did I go too fast?”

You shake your head. 

“Did I hurt you?”

You hesitate for a moment, then shake your head. There's a stretch of silence where you swear you can hear him thinking, analyzing your hesitation.

“Was it what I said?”

You should nod, but you can't make yourself do it. There's a thick, heavy anxiety there, keeping you from confirming even though you're not sure why. Donnie understands anyway, because of course he does. He's perfect, and kind, and smart, and you're just so-

His arms tighten around you. He doesn't say that you should've told him you were feeling down. He doesn't say that you should know better, that you should know that he doesn't mean it and that it was just part of the fantasy. He doesn't say any of that, because he understands. He understands, as he always does, that what you need is for him to keep murmuring kind words into your hair. To keep gently caressing your skin, holding you like you're something precious. To combat the venomous thoughts that are holding you hostage.

He understands. 

It's okay, Dove. You're okay. Everything is alright. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, okay? You're not stupid. You're not whatever mean things your head is saying right now. You're perfect, and I love you so much. I love you so much, Dove. You're perfect just as you are, okay? My pretty girl. Right here with me, where you belong. You're so good, sweetheart, so good. I've got you. 

His words are like a balm on your soul, and you drink them up greedily. Holding onto him like he's a lifeline - because he is. He is. 

The tears come back. You can't help the ugly keens, the way your body shakes. Through it all, he holds you close and soothes you inside and out in the way only he can. 

Not stupid, Dove. Smart. Kind. Brave and capable and good. You're so good, and I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you-

You'll never understand how he does this - how he makes that feeling of wrong wrong wrong fade away. But he does. The sharp tangle in your chest is unraveling, and you're finally able to breathe and actually feel like you're getting oxygen. You're so grateful, and you're so fucking lucky, and you love him so much. By the time you start to drift, with his soft voice echoing in your ears, both you and the keratin you're resting against are warm. 

Later, when you wake, fully soothed and capable of speech once again, there will be more to talk about. But for now, Donnie holds you. Soothing you with his voice, his hands, his everything. And you finally, finally let yourself rest. 

[thechy-fychannel]

hi i am a chase adorer and as such would like to know your opinions on that weird little himbo

it is my belief that chase has/had a rather strong crush on house, probably influenced to a large degree by his severe case of the daddy issues (fawning subtype, in contrast to house's fighting subtype). i think that combining this with his lack of self-esteem (see: voluntarily working for house for ~7 years) would make him INCREDIBLY vulnerable to house asking him for sexual favors. like even if it was a joke i think chase would just kinda go for it and probably freak out house a little, but i digress. do you see my vision?

anyway my point is i am a chase lover and chouse shipper, do you have thoughts on my blorbo or my ship?

hi anon i'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get around to answering this!! honestly it took me a WHILE to put my thoughts together about chase bc I have a lot of em!!

first of all, chase is SUCH a weird little himbo, he's incredibly complicated and accomplished and tbh I feel like the show never took him seriously enough until the very end when they were setting him up to take over for house. there's something about that catholic guilt and the constant need to be the specialist boy in the whole world while NEVER succeeding at being treated like the specialist boy in the world that's just lick your fingers delicious when you break his character down. he's filled with so much need and desire and is any of it ever fulfilled? No. As are many such cases.

anon, I see your vision SO MUCH and it's exactly how I feel about them too. while I don't necessarily ship chouse in a positive sense, I also dig the very unhealthy dynamic they would have as this gross unbalanced hookup situationship where chase is like "🥺 he wouldn't keep propositioning me if he didn't actually like me, even if he won't admit it 🥺" and house is like "damn, he looks pretty on his knees, maybe i should follow him into the bathroom" alfjalfklakfld.

I was just rewatching clips from when chase's dad visits and house genuinely feels so bad for chase bc he sees the amount of hurt his dad caused him and he definitely sees a lot of himself and his own daddy issues there. (bonus points for house calling him "robert" in this soft way that I rly love) I could definitely see this being the catalyst for something happening between them, chase is sad and broody with those sad watery eyes and house has a real moment of vulnerability with him, says something nice to him and then tries to cover it up by saying something inappropriate. As a joke. Obviously. but chase takes it literally and makes a pass at him that house initially rejects, but then chase gets even more sad and embarrassed and house actually feels bad for the guy— that poor pathetic blond puppy with wet eyes and a pretty mouth... and he rolls his eyes and tells himself he "lets it happen" while being a very active participant in whatever comes next.

the first time could be written off just as two repressed men taking comfort in each other in a moment of father-induced vulnerability... but the rest of the times are definitely an unfortunate combination of chase's lack of self esteem and house's selfish, manipulative nature. chase is just so much prettier (and cheaper) than the male hookers available in the tri-state area and he's just as easy. chase isn't stupid by any means, he knows what house is looking for when his eyes drag up and down his figure and make some comment about his pretty lips or girlish waist or "chase in his little short shorts." but poor chase is just so eager, so hopeful, so romantic. he could easily convince himself that they have something deep and meaningful when it's really just bj's in the sleep lab or the very occasional late night booty call.

and house can be so gross about it too, especially when he learns that he can be gross and it doesn't deter chase— actively holding his job over him in such a teasing and casual way that chase convinces himself there's no way he'd ever get rid of me, look at the way he throws the threat around if I stopped giving him what he wants, it's all just a joke to him. And then house fires him :) and oh boy would chase have a meltdown and reevaluate his entire life bc what do you mean he's not house's special boy? he was supposed to be his special boy. but he isn't, and he never will be bc he's doomed to be daddy's little disappointment forever, just like house :)

[dangerous-disposition]

47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.” 💕💕

YES! I'm still working on asks from THIS ask game, and I absolutely will be happy to receive more (since I'm using these prompts as exercises to write short shit without context to overcome my pathological need to write So Much Context)

[ NOW ON AO3 ]

There was something distinctly heartbreaking about playing wingman for the guy who made you believe in the entire concept of soulmates, Eddie thinks as he leans against the trunk of Steve Harrington's Beemer. It's not even that he thinks they're soulmates, but what the dude has with Robin is really convincing. And maybe Eddie is pretty sure Steve is his soulmate, even platonically, even if that thought makes his pining ass want to vomit.

He refuses to pine after a straight man for eternity, and yet...

What's stupid is that Eddie is a shit wingman, so it doesn't even make sense that Steve keeps taking him out with him to bars and shit. Half the women that wanted to even approach Steve were afraid of Eddie, and the other half were fucking mean to him which lost Steve's favour immediately which... hey, Eddie couldn't complain too much about that.

But still, that meant that Steve was striking out every single time and Eddie was feeling bad about it because he was happy about it. He got to spend a whole evening with Steve and sometimes they would spend the night together because Eddie's place was closer and Steve was too tired to drive all the way home. Eddie could pretend this was a real date, that Steve Harrington was dating him.

Jesus H. Christ, he was pathetic.

Steve sighs next to him. "Why is this so hard?" he asks, and at Eddie's questioning look, Steve elaborates, "Dating, getting laid, whatever you wanna call it?"

Eddie huffs a laugh, and shrugs. "Well, I mean, I think I've got it worse in that department, Stevie," he mutters, taking a drag of his cigarette. Steve's known about him being gay for months now, which makes it even more wild that the man still shared a bed with him and took him out to bars almost every Friday night. Tossing his cigarette onto the asphalt and stubbing it out with his boot, Eddie asks, "What are you even looking for?"

Steve pauses, staring at the ground. "Someone who makes me happy, who gets me, who wants to be with me, the real me, y'know?" he asks without even looking at Eddie, which is good because Eddie's sure the way his heart was breaking would be visible from fucking outer space.

Me, that's me, Stevie. Choose me. That's what Eddie wants to say, to shout and scream and even stomp his feet a bit because it's not fucking fair. He's all those things and more and he wanted to be that for Steve.

"Think you might be putting too high of standards too early on these poor girls, Stevie," Eddie laughs instead, grinning crookedly over at Steve and stopping short at the intense gaze being leveled back at him.

"See, that's the thing, Eds. I'm starting to think I've been looking for that in all the wrong places," Steve says seriously, shifting so he's standing in front of Eddie.

And Eddie is sure he's dreaming. He's actually fast asleep and he's going to wake up literally any second and this was all just some terrible dream thought up by his awful, gay, pining, stupid brain. Because it actually sounds like Steve, the love of Eddie's life, is about to confess something huge to him.

"What makes you say that?" Eddie croaks out before clearing his throat, glancing at Steve's lips before meeting his eyes.

"I've always had these big dreams about my life, what it'd look like if I wanted to be happy, and before I always thought of these grand things that involve a wife and a whole pack of kids," Steve says and Eddie feels his already shattered heart break even more.

Eddie manages to laugh, though, even if what he really wants is to crawl into bed and cry. "Okay, so now you're raising the bar even higher on these poor girls?" Eddie asks, shoving Steve's shoulder with his fist.

Steve isn't swayed. "You don't get it, Eds, that's not what I want anymore," he says, running his hands back through his hair. "That isn't what I imagine when I think about being happy."

"Then what do you imagine?" Eddie asks because, apparently, he's a huge fucking masochist.

"Eds... you're really going to make me say it out loud?" Steve asks, almost teasingly, and then he steps just a little bit closer.

Eddie's heart stops, once again struck by how not real this has to be. "Yeah, I'm gonna need you to say it with your outside voice, Stevie," Eddie says. "I'm not a mind reader."

Steve sighs heavily and puts his hands on his hips as he visibly considers his next words carefully. Something comes over his expression that takes Eddie's breath away, something fierce and brave and beautiful, and now the full force of it was turning on him when Steve's eyes meet his.

"When I picture myself happy," Steve starts, stepping close enough that the heat radiating off of him begins to warm Eddie's chilled skin. Steve lifts a hand to cup Eddie's jaw as he says, "It's with you, Eds."

Eddie blinks owlishly at Steve. "What?"

"I think I'm--I've been into you for months, and when you came out to me I got so hopeful, like I actually maybe stood a chance, which is obviously stupid. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you're into me but still," Steve rambles a bit as Eddie tries to form a coherent thought. Steve chews on his bottom lip and asks, "Eds? What do you--is this, like, okay?"

Eddie slaps himself in the face, just hard enough to sting, and Steve jumps.

"Eddie, what the hell?" Steve asks, bewildered.

"Sorry, just checking that I'm not dreaming. Pinching wouldn't've been enough to wake me up from a dream this good," Eddie breathes, twisting his hand in the front of Steve's polo and pulling him close. "You mean that, Stevie? You want me?"

"More than I've wanted anything in my life," Steve confesses easily, and he stumbles when Eddie gently shoves him back.

"Then take me home and we can make out about it in private, yeah?" Eddie suggests, grinning as he scrambles to get into the passenger seat of the Beemer.

When Steve gets into the car, he's grinning, and Eddie leans across the center console. "One kiss for the road?" he asks, batting his lashes up at Steve.

"Absolutely," Steve agrees, and then their mouths slotted together perfectly, like they were made to be kissing each other all along.

And yeah, Eddie was really starting to believe in soulmates actually...

Thank you again for sending me this ask!!! Send me more of these fun prompts? Also, if you like my writing, please consider checking out writing blog -> @gerrystamour