#I have other hyperfixations to obsess over you know | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

birdantlers · 1 year

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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

•

Muting notifs

#artists on tumblr #Artistic #digital art #art history #anthropology #humanity #art discussion #art theory #skit yells

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etherealkissed88 · 5 months

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its all about self, not the physical object.

its so interesting knowing u are never manifesting a material object, but the version of u with that object. u are always manifesting urself, thats why we always want the feeling & why the material world (3d) is always neutral. since everything is u -> u are always manifesting you!

stop trying to "get" the material object and BEcome the person who already has it. there is a difference between the two. there are infinite STATES, infinite versions of YOU, not versions of that car or that acceptance letter (<-reread this until it clicks!) BE it, dont chase it.

the object does not define the person. edward art said that two ppl can have the same clothes. lets say two ppl have a juicy contour tracksuit; one knows they are poor and ugly & the other knows they are rich and beautiful.

the object doesnt mean shit for their identities!

objects cant change who you are - YOU change who you are! even if you think otherwise like the object brings you confidence aka a new identity, at the end of the day it is YOU deciding to change based on the object. its all you. stop putting objects on the pedestal! the change in identity and what you know to be true about yourself comes from YOU. THATS what u have to CHANGE, NOT the object itself. crave BEING that version of you, NOT the object.

you're always only manifesting yourself, never the object. this is a fact so idc if u think im wrong. we are always being (manifesting) a version of ourselves. and this version might have a material object but the root of it all is that we are always manifesting a version of US! NOT THE OBJECT. this also makes sense bc everything is only you (consciousness) so ofc you will always be manifesting yourself. thats why we say the only success story is when you change self/states/your identity or fulfill yourself! its all about YOU YOU YOU, not the OBJECT!

this connects to "you dont want the object, u want the feeling (knowing/fulfillment)." listen: OFC U WANT THE OBJECT. but yall gotta realize that the object gives u some kind of validation or satisfaction so thats WHY u want it.

you want a car -> you want the feeling/freedom of driving wherever, whenever; having control you want a glow up -> you want to know/feel comfrtoable in your own skin or have people love the way you look; self validation or validation from others you want to be with this sp bc you love them -> you want to be loved & give love; want to feel worthy of love, etc

everything comes down to SELF, what you KNOW about you. its the feeling that comes first and THEN the object. its not you want the object THEN the feeling. that makes no sense.

theres nothing wrong w acknowledging u want the feeling first. some of yall love arguing about how this is wrong but it actually helps so many ppl who get so hyperfixed on the object itself, getting unhealthy obsessions & anxieties over objects when getting objects isnt the goal.

i know for a fact that the ppl who say its wrong are the same ppl who havent felt fully fulfilled w something they want. bc when you become truly fulfilled, you literally KNOW you have it even when you dont physically have it. the feeling feels SO powerful.

you can even get fulfilled / know "negative shit" in the 3d. thats proof that the FEELING CONTROLS ALL. regardless of the physical, regardless of the objects. this is especially true since everything in the 3d is NEUTRAL. so feelings are all you can receive from it!

★ you are always manifesting yourself, not the object

☆ you want the feeling first, then the object regardless if you believe it

★ having a object doesnt change your state/identity -> you do

☆ stop focusing on the object & just be

kisses, cutie jani ☆

#etherealkissed🎀#etherealkissed #law of assumption #loa blog #manifesting #loassumption #neville goddard #edward art #imagination creates reality #loastates #loass states #loa assumptions #loa states #loassblog #loa tumblr

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meo-eiru · 2 months

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What is he found another human? Like i know it might not be the most common for him to find one and it's a rare thing, but like hypothetically. If he obsesses over his darling so much, would he also be fixated over someone else just because they're a human, since it's his hyperfixation? Would he want to keep them both, to interact with each other like some puppies? Or would he get possessive over the one that was first if other human was with them all of sudden? Would he even take the other human in?

(it's just something that came to my mind randomly, i know it wouldn't have much sense for the plot lol)

While Silas is interested in humans in general once he gets his hands on you you’ll be the only thing in his small mind.

Let’s say, hypothetically, he found another human while picking fruits for you. He would go “omg another human!” but wouldn’t try to bring them home like he did with you, his mind is simply too preoccupied with keeping you safe and well fed to do more than acknowledging the existence of another human.

It’s kinda like if a cat lover saw another cat on the street but didn’t go out of their way to pet or feed it because they already have a cute and adorable and best in the whole world kitten waiting for them back home.

You’re his number 1 priority and what his whole life revolves around.

#asks #Silas #yandere elf

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taintedcigs · 1 month

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— even if it’s handcuffed i’m leaving here with you

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: steve asks eddie for his handcuffs to spice up things in the bedroom with you, and once things go wrong, the two of you turn to eddie for help… in more ways than one. (wc: 3.1k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI, smut smut smut, or*l (f!receiving), handcuffs duh, lots of praises, dom!eddie, steve kinda subby but also soft!dom? the dynamics are mixed LMAO, pet names (sweetheart, honey, baby, slut), mmf, three way kissing idk

authors note: so this is what happens when a girl mixes her three hyperfixations; 9-1-1, steddie and CHALLENGERS. i wrote this v long ago it is a bit shitty and not proof-read SO IGNORE ALL MISTAKES THANK U. (also this is sm more meaningful to me now bc i got this song as my surprise song like i accidentally manifested this WAIT.)

and please, if you wanna support me; reblog + like + comment ILY!!

Steve is embarrassed.

Embarrassed that he has to ask Eddie for this. For handcuffs to use that he has no idea what the fuck to do with.

And of course Eddie finds it all amusing, a smirk plastered on his face while he teases Steve, rosy-cheeks turning pinker.

And normally, it would've pissed him off, Eddie's teasing, his flirty comments towards you, towards him.

But for some reason, it doesn't.

The three of you have this dynamic that he can't quite put his hand on, it's different, exciting, new, it intrigues him, more than anything.

You and Steve had just started dating, a couple months in, the honeymoon phase and all, and of course, Eddie had been there for it all.

The first moment you caught Steve's eye, you caught Eddie's too, the dynamic settled in then with Steve charming you right away, while Eddie's flirty antics didn't go unnoticed by you.

Yet, somehow, someway, it snowballed into you dating Steve. But it didn't end there. The three of you hung out often.

Very often.

So much so that you had regular movie nights, always ending up high out of your minds with Eddie’s shitty weed, talking each other's ears off 'till the sun came up.

You knew everything about his life, his shitty band gigs (the one Steve dragged you to, and surprisingly his music didn't suck), his uncle, his girlfriends. Or the lack thereof.

Eddie always mentioned how he just hadn't found the right one yet, just a bunch of meaningless sex.

And he made sure to always come to the both of you afterwards, telling everything, in great fucking detail too.

Maybe it was weird for anyone else. But for the three of you, it was your normal.

Especially for you, because you enjoyed them. Enjoyed his stories as they made you squirm in your seat. Reactions not going unnoticed by Steve.

And it's what led to Steve wanting to spice things up in the bedroom with you. He knew the sex was great. He was obsessed with you, and you were with him.

But, fuck, there was something missing. Something he couldn't pin point exactly. And he was willing to try out anything, especially when he remembered how much you reacted to one of Eddie's stories with the handcuffs, later mentioning to him that you really liked the idea.

The idea of losing control, giving yourself fully to another partner, and Steve's knees almost gave out right then and there.

He didn't know where the fuck to obtain handcuffs, hence why he immediately ended up at Eddie's door, enduring his endless teasing, sort of hoping that he'd offer to help.

An idea that crossed his mind, but one that he'd never verbalize, unless, you mentioned it too.

The second he showed you the handcuffs you squealed in excitement, putting on your best lingerie, making a show out of everything before the two of you didn't hesitate to jump on each other. His clothes scattered in the room, you in your lingerie, hungry for each other.

His mouth lingered, scent so intoxicating that you could feel your thighs dampen, lips all over your skin and hands squeezing whatever he could grab onto, both of you feral.

“Y'know I didn't wanna have to do this,” he murmurs into your lips, bringing the cuffs in your view, playing into it, enjoying the giggles you give him in return.

“Please, sir, promise I'll be good,” you pout with those doe eyes, making Steve almost cave in, cock stirring against his tight boxers, begging to be attended to.

He gives a rough grunt before pining your hands above your head “That’s my girl.”

“But you still have to be punished,” he hisses quietly, putting his weight on top of you, the cold metal off the first cuff making you shiver, he tightens it as soon as he locks it, making sure your other wrist is free, for now. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya, doll.” His hums make you whine loudly.

“For now.” You can feel his smirk widening when his lips attack yours again, hungry, as his bulge presses against your inner thighs, his hand holding your cuffed one in place, making you mewl desperately, kisses traveling down your chest.

And of course, you use his distraction to your advantage, quickly grabbing onto his free hand, the second cuff clicking onto its place before he can even attempt to protest.

“I guess we’re even now, pretty boy,” you tease with a sultry voice, but Steve’s head pops up to meet your doe eyed gaze with a panic.

“Did you just handcuff us both to the bed?” He asks, shear dread overtaking his face, making you furrow your brows.

“Yeah, baby, that’s the whole point,” you giggled, attempting to kiss him again but he pulled away. “Fuck,” he groaned, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh c’mon, I know you have a thing for women being in control.”

True, and it would’ve turned him on, almost made him bust out right then and there, if the context was any different, but instead he could just groan in panic. “Oh, sweetheart, I do, but fuck-”

“What?” You ask, face puzzled.

“The keys are in my pockets,” he murmurs, gaze trailing near the dresser.

Your eyes follow his, the jeans you threw in a hurry were placed upon the dresser, far away from the two of you, and there was no physical way to reach for them.

Both of you, cuffed to the bed, and no one there to save you.

“Oh, shit.”

The two of you tried every possible position to get out, but there was no fucking luck, and that’s when you finally settled on calling someone for help.

It was obvious the only person you could call for help was Eddie, but you knew his teasing would be relentless, curls bouncing each time a laughter rumbled from his stomach, making you huff out immaturely.

“Seriously, Eddie, this isn’t funny!” Steve chided, a bit playfully considering he knew how stupid the two of you must’ve looked, and it just made Eddie chuckle louder and louder.

“Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my week!”

“C’mon, Eds, just help us.” Your soft tone caught his attention quickly, his smirk disappearing just as fast before he approached the two of you closer, now able to get a much better look at the two of you.

“Oh, Harrington, what did you even do?” He rambled, trying to ignore that feeling he always got, but this time much stronger, you in your lingerie, and Steve’s obvious bulge that made Eddie gulp physically. Shit.

“I totally should’ve offered to teach you both.” He didn’t even know where the fuck that came from. Word vomit.

“Why didn’t you?” Curiosity got the best of you, and you didn’t even realize the implications of your words, until the two boys snapped their heads in your direction, like you’ve blurted out the most scandalous shit ever.

“I- uh- what?” Eddie stammered, eyeing Steve carefully, not knowing if this was a joke. Or if both of you actually meant it.

He never thought it was possible. This. The three of you. Sure the dynamic between all of you had been tethering on something more. But never straight forward like this.

It surprised both of you when Steve spoke up, lips twitching into a smirk. “Why didn’t you offer to teach us?” The two of you finished each other’s sentences, it almost looked intentional, as if the two of you have planned this, like the two of you ever talked about this.

You didn’t, it was just natural. Something you both had been too ashamed to admit.

Something even Eddie couldn’t admit to himself, other than a few jokes, and some drunken confessions here and there, but nothing like this.

All he ever wanted.

Eddie’s usual confidence was wavering, and it was amusing to see, exciting. Something you’d love to explore. Make him beg. God, you knew he’d sound pretty as fuck when he whined.

“W-would you guys want that?” Stammering, again, yet you can’t get too cocky, because you know once Eddie fully wraps his head around what the fuck is happening, he’ll lean back into that domineering side. After the countless stories the two of you have heard, it intrigues you both. So you and Steve unanimously help him to get there.

“If we didn’t, we wouldn’t offer it, Munson,” you encouraged, watching the way his eyes oggle both of you, curious, ecstatic, that dirty mind conjuring something.

“So… you’re both sure about this?”

“Sure that I want to be fucked by both of you? I think so, Munson.” You roll your eyes, so bored of the fact that you’ve been handcuffed for the past twenty minutes with no action, and because you knew it’d rile Eddie up. You’ve seen the flare in his gaze before, jaw locking in each time you rolled your eyes at him.

And it works, like a switch, you see the dominance bubbling up on his face.

“Feisty that one, isn’t she, Stevie?”

“Mmhm, the dirtiest mouth,” Steve adds, soft hands squishing your cheeks with a smirk, insides feeling gooey with the way they both eye you.

He tssked, “Haven’t you taught her some manners?” You whined slightly at that comment, they both knew what you wanted, what you desired, your boundaries… everything.

A dynamic that’s been brewing for months… finally exploding into reality, and of fucking course you couldn’t hide your excitement, making Eddie grin.

He’s quick to uncuff Steve, a groan leaving his lips at the relief from the cold metal against his skin, making Eddie’s cock stir at the sound. His two play things. And he’s going to have so much fun.

“Wanna help me teach her some manners, pretty boy?” Steve didn’t even answer, holding you down and spreading your thighs while Eddie grabbed your other hand, cuffing you properly this time, tightening it and relishing in your pathetic mewls.

Biting the inside of your thighs, Steve didn’t hesitate to tease you, spreading your pussy lips open to show it to Eddie, both of them grinning hungrily, “look how pretty she looks, Eds.”

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Eddie hummed, admiring, groaning with a deep sigh.

All he fucking dreamed about.

Glistening with your arousal, inviting him in, and those goddamn sultry eyes were driving him insane, making him blink twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining, both of you looking at him like you wanted to eat him up.

A kind of attention he wasn’t used to, but it got him more and more riled up, confident, trailing his fingers by your inner thighs, the sensation of Steve’s lips brushing against your thighs while Eddie’s fingertips softly teased at your skin was something straight out of a dream.

Eddie looked at Steve, a subtle need to get his permission to press his lips to you.

So new… boundaries blurred and unknown, and Steve was quick to nod, hungrily watching the two of you, cock straining so hard against his boxers that he was aching.

Desperate.

Eddie was more or less the same, especially when you initiated the kiss, the softness of your lips brushing against his, making him whine pathetically.

It didn’t take long for him to take control again, the dynamic between the three of you changing ever so quickly, Steve still ghosting inside of your thighs, stomach, chest, legs, everywhere.

And shit… Eddie was a good kisser.

His lips were demanding, soft but somehow still teasing, attentive. His tongue didn’t meet much resistance as it danced against yours, smooth, on beat, the type that made flutters appear in your stomach, all the while Steve’s touches making your thighs dampen.

Too much. But in the best way possible.

If your hands weren’t tied up, it would’ve been surfing through their soft hair, demanding more attention, making you grew more and more frustrated, a smirk sitting on both of their lips at your pathetic moans.

A light scruff of Eddie’s beard scratched against your cheeks before he broke the kiss, “Steve,” he hummed, gaining his attention, head popping up all ecstatic, “C’mere.”

Both of them stick to your side, weight of the bed shifting as the gazes exchanged almost burned each other through the core. Full of longing, desire, and hunger.

Eddie angled your face toward Steve, “Kiss her,” he demanded.

A demand that didn’t take Steve a second longer to obey, thick fingers brushing against your face as his big hands cupped your heated cheeks, with your lips parted slightly he didn’t hesitate to push his tongue inside your mouth, possessing you fully, completely, an uncontrollable whine slipping past your lips.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, “you guys are so hot.” His breath fanned against your neck, hot hands running down your body, all three of you growing more and more impatient with each ragged breath, Steve’s tongue still shoved down your throat while Eddie played with your breasts, lips on your neck, making you squirm.

You could feel Eddie’s needy cock pressing against your ass, while Steve’s was barely confined in his boxers, prodding against your thigh, you don’t know how or when it happened but Eddie had joined in on the kiss too, the three of your lips moving in synch, busy between each other’s hot mouths, tongues curious and on beat, all magical and tempting.

Dark depths you always wanted to explore but never could, sloppy and filthy in the best way possible, shutting your eyes close as you enjoyed it, felt it all.

Unsure of who’s tongue was tangled in yours at this point but you could careless, disorienting you in a way that you couldn’t tell whose hands were hot all over your body, everywhere, messy, and uncontrolled.

And fuck, did you need more.

You could tell they did too, dicks twitching against you in a way that made you flutter.

And it felt like the three of you communicated, telepathically, because both of them, somehow managed to break the kiss, making your face fall in for more, unable to do anything with your hands cuffed to the bed. Infuriating, and not helping the wetness that had well already pooled inside of you.

“Awww, our pretty baby is needy, isn’t she?” Eddie mocked, both of them shifting down to your thighs, attention all on you as they spread you wider, mesmerized gaze following your every slight twitch.

“Relax,” Eddie cooed, amber gaze dangerously warm, both making you whine and giving you comfort at the same time, and before you could think, Steve’s hands warmed you up as well.

“Let us take care of you,” he added, and you couldn’t help but enjoy their squeezing, kneading, making you feel so fucking good.

You nodded, squirming as Eddie’s bearded chin tickled your skin, planting kisses inside of your thigh, while Steve’s fingers teased you, and all you could do was whine, hips rising from the bed, lust overshadowing the initial doubt.

“That’s our good girl,” Eddie praised, your thighs spread open, pussy exposed, completely. The two of them taking care of you, hands everywhere and one of their thumbs teasing your entrance, collecting your juices, smearing it around your lips, making you go airborne.

You could barely comprehend what happened when fingers slipped inside of you, one at first, then two, slicked in your juices, teasing, pumping in and out of you.

Head thrown back, you embrace the euphoria, different fingers entering inside of you, both of them deeper and deeper, squelching noises and your whimpers so heavenly that Eddie could feel his cock twitching, while Steve pathetically rutted into the sheets, desperate for some friction.

Fingering you until you could hear how wet you were, opening you up. Fully exposed to them.

You were too fucked out to notice that they had both started kissing your pussy lips, lapping up your juices, drinking you in, Eddie on one side and Steve on the other.

Heaven-sent.

You moaned like a bitch in heat, Eddie and Steve’s dripping cocks stirred at the sound, desperate to make you cum, to taste you.

Their fingers linked inside of you, thumbs continuing their rubs, and that hot white spot appeared behind your eyes.

You wanted to cum.

Fuck that.

You needed to cum.

And who were they to deny their little angel?

You had earned it.

Back arched, hands tight against the cuffs, all you could do was mewl as their fingers were stretching you, licks all over your hole making your breath ragged, “E-Eds… Stevie… I-I… shit!”

Eddie was quick to pop his head to meet your gaze, fingers still continuing their movements, flicking your sensitive spots as he gave you that goddamn grin again. “You wanna cum doll… don’t ya?”

Your body was frail. The most beautiful ache. Your entire nerve system felt like it was about to explode.

Everywhere. All at once.

“Come for us,” Steve encouraged, his and Eddie’s fingers moving faster, Steve lapping up your juices while Eddie’s tongue found your clit, sucking on it like it was his lifeline.

The softest tongue, but the roughest movements. Just fucking perfect.

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, “E-Eddie, S-Steve!”

“That’s right, slut, scream our name while you come for us,” Eddie demanded.

And fuck you wanted more, so much more. Just the idea of having two of them inside of you at the same time was enough to have your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head.

But you couldn’t wait.

“You-you’re both so… fuck… fu… fu… fuckkkkk…” Your words got caught in the back of your throat, pathetic noises was all they could make out, especially as Eddie’s tongue circled around your clit, suckling, fingers working faster as it finally brought you over the edge. Making you jerk and come so hard that white spots flew behind your eyes.

The wildfire and the chemistry between the three of you burning your insides, that tingling warm sensation prickling every inch of your skin.

“God, you taste perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie praised with a low hum. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that fucking moan?”

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” Steve growled, making you his while he gently uncuffed you, each of their praises sending warm tingles down your spine.

Fuck, they were good.

And as Steve was about to get up, Eddie stopped him with a quick tut. “Okay, pipe down, sweetheart, you still have a lot to learn.”

With that dumbfounded look on his face, he turned to face Eddie, making him grin wider.

“Oh, Stevie you look so cute with that confused look on your face, such a pretty face isn’t he?” Eddie’s attention turned to you, still so domineering that all you could do was frantically nod.

“Do you wanna help me teach him, baby?” You nodded, again, gaze glazed, overtaken by desire.

The two of you were quick to pin him down, skin meshing all together when you helped Eddie cuff him.

“Let us take care of you, pretty boy.”

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader

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gothcsz · 3 months

Text

The Boy is Mine | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~7k wc | Part 1 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You become obsessed with the new DEA attaché.

Tags: oral (m receiving), stalking, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation (f), we're humping a pillow y'all, light spanking, javi's gun makes an appearance, some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, dubcon, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i told myself i was going to take my time with this but i've been hyperfixated on this song and music video since it dropped... imagining my favorite pedro boy and... well i cranked this sucker out so fast. oh to break in to javi's apartment and blow him into oblivion 😫 let me know what you think! i might write a part 2 if there's interest for it xoxo mwah enjoy queridas. 🖤

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

You’ve never seen a man so handsome. So determined. So capable.

So perfect.

You knew from the moment you laid eyes on him that he was the one.

You’d been waiting outside of the embassy in the pouring rain for over an hour trying to catch him while on his break, wanting to get a quote from the new DEA attaché on his plans to tackle the Cali cartel.

That’s why you’re here in Colombia. Fresh out of grad school with a masters in photojournalism. Your advisor had presented to you a great position in South America involving documenting the war on drugs and its subsequent effects. Despite Pablo Escobar’s death, this so called war remained relentless, and with your ability to capture photos that truly are worth a thousand words, your advisor knew you’d be perfect for the job.

So here you are, immersed in a beautiful country, working your dream job. It had its bad days just like anything else; but your passion and prowess made those hard days worth it.

When he finally did emerge from the government building, you shivered and it wasn’t because you were soaking wet from the rain.

Your handbag did little to nothing to shield you from it as you held it over your head and jogged over to him.

He immediately blew you off, quickly eyeing your appearance before giving you a simple ‘no comment’ which would usually piss you off and have you press further–– however, you were left in a trancelike state by merely being in his presence.

He was more handsome than you could have imagined. You didn’t know what he looked like before arriving, solely going off the description given to you by your boss then what little his secretary had told you when you called to ask for a meeting earlier (which you were denied).

Brows cinched together in a perpetual frown, pouty lips turned downward in a scowl with chocolate brown eyes that make you miss the warmth of your hometown.

He had taken your breath away entirely, leaving you standing there in a puddle of both rain and arousal as he darted off in the opposite direction.

That was all you needed, really, to be thrown into a pit of absolute delusion and wanton want for Javier Peña.

You watch him relentlessly. At first, it began with scouring through the archives, reading any printings that involved him, seeing his photograph on countless articles and video footage of him giving press conferences.

The more you dived in to the professional life of the agent, the more devoted you became.

Then the following started. To and from work. Late nights at the bar. While tracking down leads. You can’t help yourself, you are obsessed. Everything this man does is fascinating, further deluding you into an infatuated trance.

You don’t know where this side of you came from. You’re usually so unproblematic and independent, your sole focus being your career with little to no time to even fathom romance.

There’s just something about him that flipped this twisted switch within you, rendering you a cock-thirsty, lovestruck mess.

One night, you watched him bring another woman home and that’s when you realized how palpable your obsession had gotten. The jealousy that bubbled in your chest became unbearable. So much, that it led you to get out of your car, climb the fire escape of his luxurious apartment building, and onto his balcony.

You observed from the other side of the glass door, in the shadows, as he took this woman on his couch.

A plethora of toxic emotions swirled within you. Envy and arousal the most intense, your thighs clenching together at the sight of his bare torso against the gentle, warm light of the singular lamp that was on.

A sheen of sweat glistened over his tan skin. He is so chiseled with a softness that makes you want to run your tongue against every dip and ridge, all the way down to the enticing trail of hair that leads right to what you crave the most.

You sighed, fantasizing about being in that lucky bitch’s spot, with his hands running all over you, kneading and squeezing your curves, the scratch of his mustache having your skin curl beneath the coarser touch. You managed to control the whimper that threatened to slip up your throat in the off chance that it got you caught.

It’s not until you felt your pager in your pocket that you returned to reality, the buzz forcefully pulling you from your erotic daydream. With a final glance at their moving bodies, at him, you swiftly descended the fire escape and to the nearest phone booth.

Since that night you’ve been insatiable. You just need one taste, a small, micro dose of him to keep your hunger at bay.

It’s not until a few days later that you return to his apartment. He’s away for work in Cali (you followed him to the airport, watching him board the plane behind your thick sunglasses and a newspaper) leaving his place empty with no surveillance. You ascend the fire escape again, the city lights of the capitol twinkling in the distance.

Slipping your gloves on, you expertly pick the lock of the balcony door before suavely entering the space. You’ve been practicing on your own at home in preparation.

It’s neat and clean. Not much personality to it which is unsurprising considering how stoic this man is. His hardened demeanor amongst the many things about him that drive you crazy. There’s never a break in his expression, always painted with typical tension and weariness.

You wonder if you could be the one who is able to crack him. To get a reaction out of that handsome face.

After surveying the entirety of the open space, you sneak down the hallway and push open the door of his bedroom.

Immediately, his smell engulfs your senses and your eyes flutter close at the scent. It’s comforting yet enticing; nothing different than what other men smell like, but there’s something about Javier specifically that you just can’t describe.

It’s so satisfying. A fucking aphrodisiac.

Walking deeper into the room, you diligently rummage through his belongings, beginning in his en suite bathroom.

With every little piece you study, you learn more about the agent. What toothpaste he uses, the brand of razors that he buys, the specific shade of blue of his towels.

Little things you wouldn’t be able to catch during your, plainly put, stalking.

Back in the room, you open the drawer that stores his shirts, your fingers running along the front of a brightly colored pink one that’s neatly folded at the top.

You imagine yourself walking around in this and nothing else, the softness of the fabric hanging from your curves, unbuttoned enough to expose the swells of your breasts, and maybe even a nipple slip to tempt him even further.

Would he think you look sexy in his clothes?

You now stand at the foot of his large bed, the window behind it casting the silver of the moonlight against the mattress tantalizingly, as if urging you to go full on goldilocks by climbing in it and pretending it’s a bed you share with him.

You stare and you stare, lower lip pinched between your teeth before you gently crawl onto it, lowering your chest so it brushes against the duvet as your nose trails up up up until it’s at his pillow, inhaling deeply as you get a more potent smell of him.

A sweet moan pushes through your lips, your clit throbbing in tandem with your heart as you lose yourself entirely, your mind already conjuring an erotic fantasy.

Your lips against his thick neck, licking and biting the salty skin while he fucks you in missionary. The details become so vivid; that familiar furrow of his brows as he concentrates on your soaking cunt swallowing his cock, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he praises you for taking his dick like the good little slut that you are.

You whimper, grinding your hips against the mattress, the friction delicious against your clit, while your nose remains buried in the pillow.

Deciding that you need more, you lift your head momentarily to grab one of the other cushions and then slip your jeans off; tossing them on the floor and placing the cushion between your thighs.

Positioning yourself at the perfect angle, you bring the pillow he sleeps on up to your face and begin to grind down on the one between your legs.

Drifting back to your lewd thoughts, you picture him beneath you while your hips move at a sensual pace. You know you’d take him bare, needing to feel every vein and divot�� how thick he is breaking your pussy open while simultaneously molding it to fit perfectly tight around his cock.

His mouth on your bouncing breasts, nipping and sucking on your nipples while his large hand runs down to land a harsh slap against your ass cheek, groping the skin to soothe it before repeating the action again and again and again.

You move faster against the pillow, your now ruined panties only adding to the overwhelming sensation as the wet fabric rubs against your needy pussy.

“Javier…” His name falls from your lips in a gasp when your face leaves the pillow, your body needing fresh air but you being selfish and wanting to suffocate in his scent. You know your wetness is smearing all over the pillow but you really don’t give a fuck at the moment, too caught up in your own pleasure and delusions to think of how wrong this is.

But it feels so good.

Your free hand goes under your shirt and bra to massage your sensitive tit, stomach tightening as your orgasm begins to creep up on you.

You think of his devilishly curved nose and how fucking magnificent it’d feel nudging against your clit while you ride his face. That position specifically has always made you a little nervous due to the thickness of your thighs and ass, but you just know that he would be able to handle it like the sex god that he is.

His tongue would lap over your slit hungrily, kissing your folds before wrapping his lips around the flesh of your clit and sucking hard. The phantom sensation of it is enough to get you to hump harder against the pillow and bury your face into the one in your hands once more, your cunt clenching around nothing as euphoria washes over you.

The room is filled with your muffled moans and cries of his name as you come undone, hips wildly thrusting against the cushion and your juices absolutely soak through it.

It’s an out of body experience, really, as you attempt to return back to earth.

You’ve never came that hard, especially not on your own.

Breathing heavily, you take what feels like an eternity to calm your shaking body down. Once your mind is a little clearer, you wobble off the bed and proceed to wash the pillow you just marked like a possessive cat, lounging around his apartment until you’ve made sure everything is as he left it before swiftly making your exit.

His return comes in the form of a news broadcast. You’re in the middle of cooking dinner when you hear the anchorwoman report that one of the Cali godfathers, Gilberto Rodríguez, has been arrested thanks to the joint efforts of the DEA and Search Bloc.

The kitchen knife falls from your hands and onto the cutting board as you scurry over to the boxy television set in your living room, fingers twisting the knob to increase the volume as he appears.

You’re kneeled in front of the screen, face damn near pressed up against it as you intently watch him command the room. He stands behind a podium with microphones pointed at him from every direction, cameras shuttering, an array of men on either side of him and a large crowd gathered at the front.

“I promise you… the other three godfathers will fall.”

You nod your head as if he is speaking only to you, “That’s right baby, you tell them. So hot.”

You stand, attention still fully on the television as that familiar stir of arousal begins to heat up within you.

He’s home and your resolve is wearing thin. Thin enough that you decide to say fuck it.

You need another taste.

Dinner is long forgotten as you go to your room, pulling open the closet and grabbing a solid black box from the top shelf.

You purchased this little number when your fantasies had begun. Wearing it around your apartment while you teased yourself, roleplaying him coming home after a long work trip and using your pussy to help him forget the horrors of his job.

Using a realistic looking dildo, you imagined it to be the man of your dreams while you fucked yourself with it in a myriad of positions.

The outfit is simple. A short, black leather dress with a corset bust and sheer sleeves that cover your shoulders and arms, doing a great job of making you look sexy. The skirt falls at your upper thigh, exposing your nylon clad legs paired with simple black heels. You slip on your mesh gloves, your red acrylics popping against the black, almost see through material.

The ensemble looks divine against your skin but you feel like something is missing. Taking one, long look at your face you realize that you’re not ready to fully reveal yourself to him, so you turn back to your closet and your eyes light up once you see the cat mask you wore to a costume party not that long ago.

You smirk at the idea.

A sexy little cat burglar. Breaking in to take what she wants.

Putting it on, your reflection stares back at you and you feel like a whole different person. The corset cinches your waist just right, your thighs curvy and inviting beneath the stockings, tits pressed together and almost spilling out the top.

The lacy mask covers half your face, leaving your glossy lips exposed with cute kitten ears at the top.

You’d fuck yourself, honestly. This new wave of confidence does nothing but fuel your determination.

Walking over to the opposite side of your room, you tilt your head up to take in the shrine of photos you’ve made of him.

Most come from you and your camera, all those days you spent watching him and documenting his every move. Others are from newspapers then there’s some messy sketches you did out of boredom.

Your finger comes up to trace his sharp features on one of the pictures, lingering on his nose and your pussy tingles as you breathe out a wistful sigh.

You can’t wait to try him.

Throwing on a black trench coat, you leave your apartment and take the familiar route to his. It’s raining, but not harsh enough to spoil your plans. Just a light drizzle.

When you arrive, your heart sinks at the fact that he isn’t home yet. Of course. He was just on TV! You hadn’t really thought this plan all the way through, absolutely blinded by your desire.

Whatever, you take the time to touch up on your makeup and fix your hair. The night presses on until finally you see his jeep coming down the road and pulling into the garage of the building.

With a final look over in your rearview mirror, you exit the car and cross the street to make your way up the familiar ladder, careful not to slip against the slick surface with the heels you have on.

Thankfully there’s no one out tonight, and if there was you aren’t sure how the hell you’d explain what you’re doing. You don’t even know how to explain it to yourself.

The butterflies in your stomach wildly flutter once you make it to his balcony, rain droplets adorn the glass door and you crouch to keep yourself hidden.

He walks in not long after, looking exhausted as ever as he pulls his tie loose around his neck and tosses his keys into a small bowl at the entryway table. His expensive dress shoes are kicked off, suit jacket slipping from shoulders revealing how broad he is. You bite your lip.

He stalks across the apartment, not even glancing in your direction, unbuttoning part of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves. His figure is a little blurry due to the condensation on the door but you don’t care, you’re under his spell as you watch him pour himself a glass of whiskey.

Wetting your lips, you can almost taste the spicy liquor as he drinks it in one shot before pouring himself another. Except this time it’s on the rocks.

Would the ice make his lips cool? Surely. A shiver dances down your spine at the thought of them pressed against your heated skin.

The orange street light casts softly into the space, the shadows sharpening his features and making him look more rugged and masculine and just downright fuckable. You want to so badly break through the glass and take a seat on that chiseled jaw, to have him harshly grip your ass as you fuck yourself on his tongue.

He disappears down the hallway and into his office, giving you the opportunity to sneak in like last time. You give yourself one final pep talk before fully committing, slipping off the trench coat and tossing it aside.

After picking the lock, you very diligently and quietly slide the door open and enter, shutting it behind you.

Just like the cat burglar you pretend to be, you suavely follow his trail down the hallway, leaving a wet trail of your own from the rain, stopping at the cracked door of his office.

You see him hunched over his wooden desk, back facing you, deep in thought at whatever documents lay sprawled against the surface.

His back muscles tense with every subtle move he makes, your dark eyes taking him in entirely from his slutty little waist to the curls at the nape of his neck.

You can tell he’s been frustratingly running his fingers through his hair since it’s sticking up in some places, making it look so sexily tousled.

You want to tug on it, run your fingertips against his scalp while he devours you whole.

So lost in your observance of him, you don’t catch the moan that escapes you and his head snaps up at the sound.

Your eyes widen and you take a delicate step back, still watching as he reaches for the gun that’s nestled against his lower back.

Trying not to make too much noise, you make your way further down the hall and into his bedroom, heart in your throat as you climb into his bed, laying on your side with your body weight propped up on one hand as you anticipate his presence.

This is it. This is what you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you laid eyes on him.

The first thing you see is the silver tip of his pistol as the door opens further, then he comes fully into view with that goddamn scowl on his face that makes your skin tingle.

His breath hitches once he lays eyes on you, large hands squeezing the weapon as you sexily wave at him.

“Hello agent.”

Your sweet voice fills the space, the muted sound of the weather picking up outside serving as the perfect white noise to set the ambiance for this scene.

“Who the fuck are you and how the hell did you get in here?”

Oh, his voice. So smooth yet raspy like the whiskey and cigarettes he can’t live without.

“An admirer that saw you took down one of the godfathers and decided to come thank you in person.”

His gaze narrows, gun lowering slightly as he contemplates whether you’re a threat or not.

You are, but not in the way that he thinks.

“How did you get in?”

“That’s a trick I’m going to have to keep to myself.”

You shift your body, moving to rest on your knees and you watch as his eyes lustfully trace the contours of your figure. You’re absolutely keening beneath the heaviness of his stare, loving the fact that you have his undivided attention.

It doesn’t even worry you that he’s got a fully loaded gun pointed right at your pretty face. If anything, it just turns you on even more.

“What do you want?”

“I already told you. To thank you in person.” Your eyes roll and his jaw tightens.

“Thank me in person?” He echoes your words with a dry chuckle, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Let me show you.” Your tone is hushed and dripping with suggestion, slipping off the bed slowly and sensually.

You watch his adam’s apple bob at your change of position, letting him see you in your full get up, watching intently as his eyes land on a different part of your body with every second that passes.

“Drop the gun, Javier.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I could do right now.”

You cock your head to the side, eyes narrowing behind the mask as you contemplate your next move.

He’s standing on the rug that’s spread out against the wooden floor which gives you an idea.

“Please? I’m not going to hurt you.” You whine with a pout, beginning to lower yourself to the ground as if showing him your unwavering submission.

The seconds that tick by feel like hours as you attentively take each other in. Then you hear it, your ears twitching at the faint sound of the safety switching on and it’s enough to spur you into action.

You don’t know where this newfound strength comes from, probably the adrenaline you feel of simply existing in the same room as him. You yank the rug, causing him to lose his footing as he falls onto his back with a loud thud, the gun slipping from his grasp and sliding across the floor.

He groans out in pain but you don’t care, pulling him closer, then fully on your knees as you begin to crawl over to him.

“I told you to put the gun down.”

He’s still on his back, making no attempt to move as you draw closer. He does lean up on his forearms, dark eyes fixed on you, watching as you shuffle on your hands and knees until you plant your hands on his shins and work your way up.

You barely graze the hardening bulge in his pants, causing him to shudder, and white heat licks at your core knowing that in this moment; he wants you too.

The two of you don’t break eye contact as you straddle him, gloved hands falling on his pecs.

“I’m not usually like this…” you begin in a gentle murmur, running your open palms anywhere you can, relishing in feeling his taut body beneath yours after fantasizing about it for so long, “Shit, it’s like news to me, but I can’t ignore my heart anymore.”

One of your hands wraps around his tie, tugging on it harshly until you’re nose to nose with the man that’s been living in your head rent free for the past few weeks.

His lust blown, brown eyes search yours, as if trying to discern your identity which you assume he’ll never figure out. You’ve only ever had that one interaction and even then he had barely paid you any attention.

You feel his breath fanning across your mouth, so badly do you want to press your lips against his but you suppress the urge.

You continue to play with him, enjoying this sense of power you have with how compliant he’s being.

You expected for him to be fully dominant, which you know he’s capable of being since you watched him fuck the shit out of that one girl. But it seems like this, your taboo act and the suddenness of it, is affecting him in an entirely different way.

You put pressure against your palms, having him lay flat on his back and you hover over him, taking in all the small details of his charming face.

The frown lines, hairs of his mustache, blemishes and faint scars. Every little detail making you fall harder and harder for him. He has no idea just how much he means to you.

“What game are you playing at here, gatita?” He gives in, entranced by this enigma of a woman that’s perched over him. His calloused hands grip at your outer thighs, blunt fingernails almost ripping the fabric of your stockings.

You hum at his touch, loving the sound of the pet name, gently rocking on his lap and clutching his shirt in your fists.

“One where you’re the prize, handsome.”

You lean forward, sticking your tongue out and slowly licking a broad stripe from his chin all the way to the tip of his nose, curling your tongue when you flick at it.

His chest vibrates with a groan and you smirk at the feeling of his cock twitching underneath his pants.

“You looked so good on the news tonight. I couldn’t help myself.”

You undo his tie, toying with the notion of wrapping it around his wrists to detain him, but with what you have planned on doing to him tonight, you’d rather keep his hands accessible.

Maybe next time.

You toss the silky fabric aside to focus on unbuttoning his shirt. He does nothing but remain silent, his chest heaving up and down while he suppresses the primal urge to take over and fuck this sweet little thing that’s dropped herself on his lap.

And you know he’s more than capable of switching the roles. He’s strong and skilled, could easily flip you onto your back and proceed to exert his dominance over you.

But you’re the one with the grand plan here, not him, and he’s indulging in your shared fantasy by letting you do whatever it is that you want, lost in a horny daze of his own.

The silence is comfortable and it further builds the sexual tension. You finish getting his shirt undone, opening it wider to get a better look at his toned body.

“So hot. You drive me crazy, agent.” You’re so wet, the slickness of your arousal seeping through the flimsy material of your thong smears against his fancy dress pants.

“Y tú, kitten, look like something out of a wet fucking dream. I have to be dreaming.”

You giggle, blushing at his words as some coyness slips into your facade.

“You’re not dreaming. I promise you.”

Leaning down once more, you begin to leave wet kisses against the cut of his jaw, suckling on the warm skin then running your nose along the length of his neck.

You take in a deep breath, smelling his cologne atop of his sweat and natural scent and you feel so high.

No amount of cocaine comes close to how Javier Peña makes you feel.

You suck a love bite against a protruding vein in his neck, a grunt pushing past his lips at the sensation of your teeth grazing the skin.

Satisfied with your possessive marking, you lick from his jaw all the way up to his ear, biting down on the lobe.

“Now I’m going to taste you.” You purr seductively, leaning back to look down at his absolutely wrecked face.

His puppy eyes stare up at you like you’re the only woman in the world, a goddess that’s decided to bestow such an erotic experience onto him. He knows you’re about to ruin his body for any other woman that comes after you.

You decide to be a little theatrical, slowly pulling off your gloves to reveal your pretty hands and fresh manicure.

He can’t help but bring his large hand up to grasp your wrist, pulling your hand closer to his face as he studies your nails before gently nipping at your fingers, then slipping two digits into his mouth, running his tongue all over them and sucking them softly.

You gasp at the sensation, not breaking eye contact while he smirks at your reaction. Suddenly, lighting strikes and the room is illuminated for a split second in the white light.

You both look so feral, suspended in this vivacious moment.

Pulling your hand away, you let it drag down his pouty bottom lip, pinching the delicate skin before shuffling back on his lap.

You hover again, this time at eye level with his chest as you place soft kisses against his brown skin, tongue peering out to lick his pecs then down his soft tummy.

His hips buck involuntarily and you pull back, tilting your head to the side as you look down at him.

“Stay still or this little kitten is going to find someone else to play with.”

A litany of curses fall from his lips in both English and Spanish, but you pay it no mind, your attention on his belt as you unbuckle it then pop the button of his dress pants.

Leaning down, you bring your face until it’s right at his crotch and you catch the metallic zipper between your teeth.

Slowly pulling it down, your eyes flit up to him and he’s intently watching you, his own tongue hanging from his mouth like a dog in anticipation of what you’re about to do.

You press your nose into the fabric of his now exposed boxers, nuzzling your face against his erection and his breath catches in his throat.

Your wetness managed to penetrate through his pants and onto his boxers, so you kitten lick your arousal from him and he lets out a guttural moan.

Basking in the sounds of his pleasure, you continue until there’s a giant wet spot on the cotton.

Deciding that it’s time you get what you came here for, your fingers hook at the band of his bottoms, dragging them down to his mid thigh and he assists you by lifting his hips.

His cock is so fucking big. Your eyes widen at the sight as it rests against his left thigh.

It’s thick, like you imagined, with ridges and veins that are begging to be traced by the tip of your tongue.

The color of it is a little darker than the rest of his body, the weeping tip plush and leaking with excessive precum from your foreplay. It’s cut with a subtle curve, long enough to where you know if he angles it just right; he’d bruise the fuck out of your cervix.

“Mmm,” you hum, licking your lips like a woman who has been starved for far too long.

“¿Que pasó, nena? Cat got your tongue?” This asshole, teasing you as if he’s not the one at your mercy.

But is that really the truth? One would observe that you’re the one at his mercy; considering your obsession with the DEA agent.

“It just looks so delicious,” you purr, bringing your hand to hover your face.

Meeting his gaze, you seductively lick your palm, wetting it with your saliva before wrapping it around his throbbing length.

“Mierda,” he hisses, head dropping back against the hardwood floor as you begin to pump him in languid motions, getting a feel for what he likes. Attuned.

His flesh feels warm and smooth beneath your smaller hand, your thumb swipes over his tip as you collect some of his precum.

You bring it up to your lips, sucking it into your mouth and you whimper at the taste. Salty, heady, intoxicating.

You need more.

Your hand leaves his cock as you position yourself in between his strong thighs. His dick stands erect, waiting for you to lavish it in your attention.

Leaning down, you poke your tongue out to run one long, broad stripe from his balls all the way up to his head.

He shudders, fists clenching at his sides while his slit spurts out more precum.

“I got you all wet, baby.” you gloat with a gentle laugh, repeating the motion a few more times.

Each groan of his and twitch of his body influences you to keep going, placing open mouthed kisses all over his base then up and down his cock. Making out with it.

You let a wad of spit fall over his tip and watch as it drips down obscenely over his length, bringing your hand back to pump him a little faster with a tighter grip. Your saliva drips from in between your knuckles.

“That’s it, gatita, just like that pretty girl.” He’s getting more vocal now and you’re intoxicated, drunk off his praise.

You slap the fat head of his cock against your pursed lips a few times before letting your tongue lap at the slit then sinfully lick around the tip.

Your tongue continues its assault on his girth, lapping every inch of it like he’s a refreshing mango popsicle on a hot summer day.

The attention is then shifted on his balls as you continue to jerk him, the tip of your muscle outlining the sensitive skin before you suck one into your mouth softly.

“Puta madre, bebita, esa boquita feels like fucking heaven.”

You whimper, nuzzling your nose against his sack and taking in his musky smell. Your mouth waters, drool leaking from the corners as you reposition yourself back over his hard cock.

You part your lips, taking him slowly, inch by inch as you savor the weight of him inside your hot mouth. Your hand remains at his base while you swallow him whole, tongue lapping around the bits that it can reach.

It’s not until you feel him tickle the back of your throat that you pull back slightly, sucking your cheeks in and beginning to set a slow pace.

Up, down, up, down.

He’s so fucking big, you’re not able to take him fully down your throat… yet. You’re gonna need a moment to break open your mouth enough to fit him.

He continues with his praises. The sweet filth that fills your ears urging you to be a good girl and to suck his cock like your life depends on it.

Because it does. All you want to do is lose yourself in him, to become nothing more than just Javier’s plaything.

Tears pool at your tear ducts from the messy head you’re giving but it doesn’t deter you. You just blink them away and take him further down your throat.

You splutter and gag as he presses against your uvula, causing him to inadvertently bring his hand down to the back of your head, fisting your hair.

You wince but the pain feels delicious on your scalp. You pull away and his saliva coated cock falls from your swollen lips with a trail of spit connecting you two.

“I want you to fuck my face, Javier. Can you do that for me?”

You bat your lashes, biting on your lower lip as you look up at him.

Your back is arched sexily, giving him a good view of your ass behind you as you remain on your knees in between his legs.

“Si, gatita, whatever you want.”

He gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding you back to his cock.

He slips back into your mouth easily, his hips bucking upward to fully bury himself down your throat.

You breathe through your nose as he begins to set the pace, much harsher and faster than what you’ve been doing on your own.

The filthy sounds of his groans mixed with your gagging and squelching of your mouth fill the room and it’s like music to your ears.

You fucking love this. Love the way he’s fucking your throat and using it to get himself off.

His other hand falls down to tenderly caress your cheek, cupping your jaw and that sets off an explosion of fireworks against your needy pussy, moving your hips against nothing. The simple act is enough to get you closer to your own orgasm.

Your fingernails dig into his meaty thighs when he manages to fully situate himself into your mouth, the tip of your nose brushing against his coarse pubic hairs.

He keeps you there, depriving you of oxygen and your jaw aches with how it’s been widely unhinged for the past however long.

You don’t care about your pain, you only care about tasting his cum when he finally releases inside of you.

“I’m so close baby, god damn it I could die in this pretty little mouth. Such a filthy whore, breaking into my apartment just so you can suck my cock.”

You whimper, the sound vibrating around his shaft and you bring one of your hands down beneath your skirt and panties, rubbing tight circles against your engorged clit.

He goes back to thrusting in and out of your throat while you pleasure yourself; both of you teetering on the precipice of your respective orgasms.

The hold on the back of your head tightens as his climax begins to peak, and the tension of it is enough to send you over the edge first.

You splutter and groan all over his cock while you cum, your release coating your fingers and dripping down your folds and onto your inner thighs.

“Fuck I’m about to come. You better swallow every fucking drop gatita. Isn’t that what you came here for? Ah-shit, to milk my cock like the perverted bitch that you are?”

If you hadn’t come already, you would be now with his abrasive words and rougher thrusts of his hips.

“I bet, fuuuck, bet that pussy tastes so fucking sweet and feels as heavenly as this mouth. Ay gatita sucia, you gonna let me destroy your tight little cunt or are you going to leave me with just a taste of your boquita?”

You want to respond, to tell him that you want nothing more than to have his cock split you open, to render you a mess that can’t walk for days after getting fucked hard by him.

His thrusts stagger and he comes with a primitive growl, his hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat.

You moan at the feeling and he holds you flush against his pelvis while he empties his balls into you.

When he’s finally drained, you tentatively let him fall from your mouth with a lewd pop, some of his spend still resting on your tongue.

You climb up his body again, noticing the bead of sweat dripping from the tip of his brow and down his chiseled cheek. His lips are swollen, much like yours, from chewing on it due to the intensity of your ministrations.

His dark eyes are swimming with lust and adoration, shallow breaths exhaling from his nostrils.

You open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out so he can see his milky cum against the pink muscle before you retract it and swallow exaggeratedly, smirking as you bring the back of your hand up to wipe the saliva and other fluids that coat the bottom half of your face.

“Thank you for keeping us safe from the narcos, agent.” You whisper, reaching for your gloves to slip them back on.

He watches intently before he raises the hand that had just cupped your cheek affectionately to the edge of your mask, beginning to lift it up to expose your identity.

“¿Quien eres, gatita?”

You stop him by grasping his wrist harshly, shaking your head.

“Un secreto,” you whisper back, close enough to where your lips are softly brushing against each other.

Moving his hand away from your face, your eyes gaze into his one final time before you lean in to press a sweet kiss against his lips.

It’s everything you dreamed of and more, the feeling of his mouth slotting against yours in the most passionate kiss you’ve ever shared with anyone.

You pull back before things get heated again, your mission now complete until the next time.

“I’m going to leave now,” you begin in a hushed tone, “and you’re going to stay right here. You’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”

Another tilt of your head and you can see the resistance in his stare, how badly he wants to keep you here like a pet. His kitten.

But he nods ever so slightly.

“Will I see you again?”

Yes, but you don’t reveal this to him so easily.

“Only if you do something worth warranting a visit.”

With that, you rise from his lap, your long legs on either side of his waist as you look down upon this man you just wrecked without giving him your name or letting him get a good look at your face.

His eyes trail over you, trying to etch the image of you in his mind for the lonely days that are about to come.

He won’t forget you, that’s for sure. You’re about to infiltrate his mind in the same manner in which he infiltrated yours.

The soft click of your heels can be heard as you depart from his bedroom, leaving him with his soft cock out and pants down his legs.

Before closing the bedroom door behind you, you stop and look at him over your shoulder.

“Goodnight agent.”

The minutes tick by agonizingly slow before he scrambles to get up, grunting at the subtle pain in his back as he tucks himself back into his pants and picks his gun up to place on the dresser.

He follows your wet trail down the hallway and to the glass door of his balcony that you purposefully left cracked; an answer to his earlier question.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

He smirks when he sees the heart shape you’ve left against the surface.

#javier peña smut #pedro pascal smut #javier peña x you #javier pena smut #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #stream eternal sunshine for good fortune

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animeyanderelover · 2 months

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May or may not write in the next few days also some poly!relationship with Morticia and Gomez Addams (as portrayed in the two movies in the early 90s). For now I would like to try my skills with my currently other hyperfixation. We're talking about the Wolverine version as portrayed in the first 3 X-Men movies.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, overprotective behavior, death

Wolverine Hc's

The situation would be quite difficult and most definitely unexpected for Logan. He has spent years just aimlessly wandering around with no clear recollection of who he is and how he came to be, spent years just getting by somehow before Professor Charles and the X-Men offered him the closest thing to a family he has had since he came to be. He's loyal yet still sees himself as a loner who prefers keeping to himself. He's very conscious of his own feelings above anything else and even though he's known for his short temper and crude attitude he is by no means a bad person which is why he tries to put some distance between the two of you, fully aware that you shouldn't associate with him. At that point it is most likely too late already. For Logan to get so attached to you to the point of obsession it's likely that the two of you have known each other for a while now and that you've opened his heart up without even being aware of it. You've essentially just gained yourself a guard dog who will take any physical harm for you all too gladly.

Whilst Logan can be very possessive, especially in an established relationship, above all he is very protective. He spends most of his days just watching you from a distance, usually able to track you down by scent and sound alone. Normally his days do not require him to be overly busy unless Professor Charles needs something from him so he has a lot of time on his hands which he gladly devotes to you. All too often you have him always a few feet away from him, watching over you and willing to interfere as soon as anything or anyone should pose a threat to you. As someone who doesn't like when his own freedom is limited Logan at least gives it a try to not be too protective yet the fact that his senses are so much keener do not make this task easier. Never think that he isn't good in noticing your current mood. He hears it when your heart starts racing and his elevated sense of smell makes him very sensitive to changes in your body odor as he's able to detect the chemical changes when your emotions change. This plays a role in how he reacts and if his darling is highly emotional or on a more anxious Logan will be naturally more protective.

Your existence is a blessing as much as it is a curse for him simply because you make Logan aware just how painfully lonely he feels now that he has started yearning for you. You make him miserable in more than one way. Somehow he makes the situation even worse for himself though whilst being your devoted watchdog from the shadows. He's usually there when you spend time with friends or family outside, observing from a safe distance all whilst feeling a strange sensation tugging at his heartstrings, a strange sensation edging between warm comfort and cold loneliness. He'd like to be by your side too but knows that there are things he still has to work on. Jealousy is one of a few emotions that tends to make you aware that there is in fact a man following you around and the first time you hear that guttural growl from behind you you believe for a short moment that a beast is standing right behind you. One may call him too protective but he isn't irrational when he's jealous for neither his nose nor his ears lie to him. He knows exactly when you feel attracted to someone or vice versa.

People have insulted him more than once as being no better than an animal, a beast with no mind of his own. That is not true as Logan doesn't blindly attack people but killing others he will do if it guarantees your safety. There's a difference between arrogant stupidity that some may put up for show and the genuine bloodlust , the will that it takes to kill someone and Logan is able to tell the difference which often spares idiots their life as a few simple threats with his adamantium claws are more than sufficient enough to have grown men running away like little kids. Anyone who really comes for your life though will be met with the beast he has been called he is. Logan is fully prepared to murder anyone who would even dare try to lay a finger on you and his regenerative abilities tend to make him very reckless, fully prepared to use his own body as a shield and endure all injuries if it means that there isn't a single scratch on you. The one mistake someone could make though is triggering him to go berserk by hurting you, leaving him attacking and hurting anyone around him blindly, his mind clouded in red rage as he tears through blood and flesh.

In all the years since he has awoken without any memories of his previous life he has never been able to settle down once as a unease deeply rooted within his soul kept him moving from place to place, too restless to ever allow himself to sit still for even a moment. He has no place where he could keep you and Logan knows that yet strangely enough the longer he starts spending time near you the more he feels a previously unfamiliar ease washing over him, one that motivates him to give a permanent stay in a place a chance, something that previously used to be unimaginable for him. Even if he were to actually take that step and buy a small house he would still refrain himself from kidnapping you unless his trauma that lays dormant somewhere in his mind would resurface when he has to witness the heart-shattering situation of almost losing you, a vice on his mind that would taunt him forever that you almost lost your life because he couldn't protect you. The guilt will most likely only serve as an additional shackle around his soul yet his paranoia would ultimately outweight his guilt.

You may fall in the same trap as others do when they initially lay eyes upon the wild-looking man. Whilst Logan is gruff, crude and quite aggressive at times he is not only that. He's more but that is a side he only reserves for the people he trusts and you figure out that there is far more beneath his hardened surface. He's kind, he's loyal, surprisingly gentle and downright flirty once you get to know him better. He's usually careful with his touches, aware that his grip may hurt you more due to the adamantium that coats all of his bones. Your scent usually manages to calm him as soon as he gets a whiff of it unless it would be tinged with distress in which case his own emotions would quickly start stirring up with worry. There are still occasionally moments where he appears more uncertain and hesitant, moments where he questions just how much he should indulge in all of this and to a degree even how much he deserves it. At that point he's already aware that it is far too late to recover though as he'd leave half of his heart with you if he were to distance himself from you now, doomed to always live only half the life he could have if he were to have you.

#yandere marvel #yandere x-men #yandere x men #yandere mcu #yandere wolverine #yandere logan #yandere logan howlett #yandere x reader #x men x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader

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lovinglokilaufeyson · 6 months

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That’s What I Call Repressed Sexual Tension - A.A.

Pairings: Astarion x Fem!Reader (Paladin)

Warnings: 18+, Pining, Baldur’s Gate 3 Act I spoilers (I’ve only just now gotten to Act II), Smut (Sub!Reader x Dom!Astarion) – Fingering, P-in-V, Breast Fondling, NOT proofread, Astarion’s a bit of a perv – but still gentle, Fluff, Astarion is whipped (and calls you sickeningly sweet pet names), you’re kind of oblivious; I tried to make this as body-inclusive as I could, but still Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4,230

Summary: You were nearly certain that you hated Astarion and Astarion hated you. Until one day, after battle, you decide to partake in a wash. So does Astarion, much to your surprise. The truth of yours and Astarion’s true feelings towards one another is revealed.

A/N: Hey guys, welcome to the new hyperfixation! Right now I’m doing a playthrough of BG3 and I’m OBSESSED with Astarion. I’ve also read quite a few stories on here, and felt the need to provide my own as well. Please let me know what you think! Expect to see more Astarion in the future on this page!

God, you loathed Astarion. Or so you thought.

He was a selfish, reckless, devious pig. And he knew it too.

Little did you know, Astarion’s behaviors were exacerbated due to, well, you. Obviously his aura of cocky arrogancy radiated regardless of who was around, but around you he felt the need to… cover, more. Secretly, he was quite smitten for you. But obviously, he didn’t need you to know that. You had just finished battling it out against the goblins, which had been a tiring battle. Now, you were headed back to Emerald Grove. “Darling, you know, you didn’t have to smite him. That was kind of a waste of energy for you” Astarion sauntered over, making a quip at you. “You know, Ass, we won, didn’t we? Does it even matter? We’re going back to camp now; I’ll be resting soon.”

Ass was the nickname that you had so lovingly given him one night after he had drunk from you for the first time. You woke up to find him leaning over you, fangs exposed, ready to press them against your neck. After you had willingly allowed him to continue, you woke up woozy and drowsy, almost unable to walk. He came to check on you, making fun of your trembling. “Wow, darling. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who got lucky last night.” He winked.

“Shove it, you ass.” You snapped back. “Eh, I’ve been called worse, I assure you.” “Well, say hello to your new nickname, Ass.” “Quite clever darling, it’s almost as if it’s a shortened ver-“ you cut him off. “You ever want a taste of my blood again, you shut your mouth.” He clamped his mouth shut almost instantaneously, his lips forming into an impressive pout.

Since that day, Astarion had been relatively whipped by you. The sight of you trembling, the actual kindness that you displayed towards him in allowing him his first taste of “thinking” blood. God, he would trade all of his meals just for a taste of your blood again. He hadn’t gotten a taste again, but he frequently inquired about the subject and whether or not you’d be willing to allow him to indulge yet again. The real reason he had even said anything about your energy level post-battle was due to the fact that he would prefer you to save your energy for other circumstances, namely him drinking your blood – or other things. Other, dirtier things.

The trek back to camp was long and tiring. But you were alive, and that was all that mattered. You had Karlach and Gale along with you as well, thankfully. So you weren’t alone with the vampire. Although, he would have preferred it that way. He was hoping that he would have a chance alone with you later in the evening. Typically, other members of the group would jump at the chance to simply be in your presence, so he rarely got the opportunity. Tonight would be different, he reassured himself.

You decided that this late afternoon would be a prime opportunity for a wash. You had slept for about an hour to regain your strength, and Shadowheart had used her magic to mend you. Of course, Astarion had kept a close eye on you to make sure you were alright. So, when you wandered off, Astarion followed. “She needs supervision” he had told the rest of the group. Then, he sauntered off after you, careful not to make his presence known. He was a stealthy one, that’s for sure, and it came in quite handy in situations like these.

The nearby pond was mostly still water, despite the glorious waterfall that fell from the rocks that formed above it, clearly streaming from a larger body of water nearby. The rocks were all fairly dark and gray. The pond itself had strikingly blue-green water, that was still clear mostly. There were spots where algae had developed and broken off, but the water still cleaned better than the majority that you had witnessed in your travels. This place had become your own personal spa, in a sense.

He watched from afar as you began to strip your clothing off. He hadn’t been able to make a full assessment on you yet, as he had only seen slivers of your bare skin between the top and the bottoms of your pajamas, although he always hoped to see more. And now, he was going to. Finally.

You began at the top, peeling the shirt from your bodice, revealing your bra underneath. It was a translucent-white, which effectively made Astarion’s breath hitch in his chest. He could have taken red, black, blue, whatever other color you desired. But – white? Gods, it made his mind wander. And his cock harden. He couldn’t help the way that you made him feel. He had spent too many nights alone in his tent, at least for his liking. Next to be revealed were your legs, which looked beautiful despite various scrapes, bruises and cuts scattered about them. His only wish now was to have them wrapped around him – anywhere and everywhere. Around his head, around his pelvis, around his legs as he cuddled you softly to sleep in his tent. Ran his hands through your locks. Kept on high alert – just in case. He always did, but it would feel more important if he had something so precious to protect.

Astarion’s daydreaming almost tore him from the sight in front of him. Almost. The next time he looked, you began removing your bra. “Oh Gods…” Astarion spoke, thankfully quietly enough to maintain the secrecy of his presence. Your breasts were no longer under their cover, and Astarion could hardly contain himself any longer. He cupped the bulge in his pants gently, he needed the slightest bit of friction in that area. The next to be revealed was your glorious heat, not entirely cleanly shaven, but clearly well-maintained.

It was within the next few minutes that you decided to indulge in the water, laying a towel out on a nearby rock for after your dip. He noticed you head towards the waterfall, your hips swaying generously for his eyes, and he almost let his focus falter. Astarion then made the decision to make his move, sliding his shoes off, then stripping himself of his pants, shirt, and underwear. He also made the conscious decision to sneak your own clothes away from the towel you had to delicately laid out, perfectly upon the rock. Just because he was mildly infatuated with you, didn’t mean he would play nice. In fact, it made him want to play even rougher.

You were fairly oblivious to the rogue in the shade, currently your only focus was relishing in the waterfall and running your hands through your hair, combing it out gently with your fingernails. It was the most relaxed you had felt in the past 24 hours. Little did you know, a certain rogue had set his sights on you – hoping to relax you even further.

The water was lukewarm from basking in the sun for the majority of the day. Exotic flora surrounded the pond, making it look inviting and tropical. However, some of the plants could be deadly, which kept both yourself and Astarion from getting close to them. Astarion glided himself into the water, careful to maintain quiet and stealthy as to not alert you to his presence – yet. He glanced at your bottom again, taking it all in. Soon, he hoped you’d be all his. If everything went as planned.

The water barely covered Astarion’s pelvis as he floated over to you. His fingertips played along the surface of the water, taking in the beautiful scenery. It wasn’t often that Astarion was able to do so. But now, he felt relaxed, yet almost – nervous? For what was to come ahead. It wasn’t often that Astarion felt unnerved in this way. You just meant so much to him. And he didn’t want to lose that. He began to contemplate his current choices and whether or not this would end poorly for you both. Perhaps you would be enraged, forcing him out of the party and never to speak to you again. Perhaps you would denounce his desires and state that you longed for someone else.

To his surprise, you yelped and jumped, trying to cover yourself as much as possible. You had seen him. You hid behind the waterfall, sinking further and further into the wall of stone. You covered your bosom with your arms, much to Astarion’s disappointment. Astarion’s confidence rose again, approaching your form behind the waterfall. “No need to hide away, darling. It’s just me, after all” he tutted. By the time he had crept fully into the other, more secluded side of the waterfall, you had sunk into the water, on your knees now, merely your head poking out of the water. Your eyes looked up at him almost submissively, which nearly made his knees buckle in excitement.

“What are you doing here, Ass? How long have you been here?”

“Long enough, my sweet. Just out admiring the view, washing up, you know.” As much as Astarion longed to tower over you, he needed to get down to your level. He sank down himself, until his eyes were meeting yours, just above the surface of the water. You were always quick to spit back at Astarion, but given the nature of the situation, you simply couldn’t. Any thoughts that you had about snipping at him were completely and entirely blocked out of your consciousness. Instead, you uncertainly inquired “how much did you see?”

“Oh Gods, dear. I’ve seen everything.” His response made you shutter, although the smirk placed upon his lips led you to believe that he was indeed happy about this fact. You wondered why. “Let me help wash you, petal?” You shifted for a moment, pondering the possibility. Astarion had already seen all of you, hadn’t he? You wondered for a moment whether or not to decline. Maybe he was just trying to be helpful, you thought. Your mind raced through a variety of complex and simple possibilities, trying to track each one. Astarion caught on to this, merely catching your attention with a “dove?” “I- uhm- oo-kay” you responded slowly beginning to rise out of the water, and Astarion followed. You kept your arms firmly planted around your breasts, careful not to reveal yourself too much.

Astarion stood behind you, washing your back with handfuls of the waterfall that he so gently placed on your neck, shoulder blades, and spine. “Darling, you do know I have seen those breathtaking breasts of yours, correct?” You nodded hesitantly in response, still in moderate shock from the present situation. You thought you absolutely detested Astarion, and he you. But, here he was, helping you wash blood and dirt off of your back, so – intimately. You had been intimate with people before, however, this felt slightly different. And it felt different to Astarion as well, unbeknownst to you. Good different. Slowly, you began to drop your arms from your breasts. Astarion watched intently as your nipples were freed once more, it was pertinent that they were chilled from their prominence. “You know,” he whispered into your ear from behind “if you are scared of anyone happening to see them – I could hold them on your behalf.” Astarion’s voice sounded as if it was winking at you. Truthfully, now that Astarion was aware of how shell shocked you were, he knew he needed to be gentle with you. At least at first.

“Uhm – well I – uhm well sure” you managed to stutter out. “Good girl” Astarion whispered into your ear once more, bringing his hands to play with your nipples. You let out a soft mewl at the sensation. “Ooh, you like that, don’t you love?” Astarion teased, tutting his tongue again. You nodded feverishly, although this did not seem to please him. “Use your words, beautiful.” “Yes, I do Astarion. I-It feels g-good.”

Astarion’s hand molded and palmed your breasts, and he went to speak. However, you had beaten him to it. “Pl-lease m-more” you begged. He took one of his hands, bringing it down to your heat. You were nervous, as you were fairly sure you were embarrassingly wet down there, and your body began to reflect that. “Darling, why are you shaking? Please, don’t give in for my sake, I want you to want this.” Astarion spoke with more care than he ever had with you. You turned to face him “Ass, you fool, of course I want this…” you had built up confidence to divert back to his nickname, which he was glad for. But then you remembered the reasoning for your timidness. You were dripping. “I- just- well- I- I am really wet.” Your cheeks reddened as you spoke, you felt yourself sinking back into timidness in front of him, but you had nowhere to hide “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for your desires, doll. I’m more than thrilled that I have been able to bring this out of you. That I have this effect on you. I was terrified of your rejection, darling girl.” Given Astarion’s newfound openness his emotions with you drove your desire for him to new heights. Your next move was to pull him into your lips, your hand wrapped around his neck as you did so. As your lips landed on his, you felt a rush of adrenaline surge through your body. Your confidence built once more, using your teeth to pull on Astarion’s bottom lip before finally releasing it. You winked, while Astarion stood in awe of your previous actions, finally stating “you cheeky little pup.” He took this opportunity to grab your waist, picking you up and lifting you out of the water. You yelped, surprised at his action. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Astarion carried you over to where your towel lay, gently placing you down on it, then allowing himself to follow.

His leg hooked underneath you, and you willingly allowed it to push your legs apart so that he could hover between them. He leant down to place a gentle kiss upon your lips, which you welcomed. His lips were breathtakingly sweet and supple, you had felt them on your neck before, but that hardly amounted to the feeling you had now. Although his lips on your neck certainly did have the capacity to drive you mad. “Please Astarion, take me.” He wasn’t used to hearing the entirety of his name spoken from your lips. But it was a welcome thing to hear his full name fall from your lips. To know the full extent that you wanted him. Because he wanted you too. Desperately.

“Patience, my sweet.” He spoke, retreating from your form. You immediately tried to grab at him to pull him back, but then realized where he was headed. He tutted in response, speaking the word again “patience. Allow me to indulge in you.” Astarion’s lips peppered kisses along your upper thighs, before reaching his hands to assess the state of your heat. He used one hand to pull the folds of your labia apart, and the other to bring a finger to your clit. You were right, you were very, extremely wet. You whimper as his fingernail flicks across your clit. You tense, but his words bring you back down “relax, my dear.”

He spoke once more, this time with a proposition rather than a demand. “You can say no to this darling. But I would love to taste you, while I taste you.” “Huh?” For the first time, you were confused by Astarion’s words. “I would just place a little bite ‘here’ and ‘here’” he pressed into your inner thigh with two fingers, displaying where his fangs would penetrate your skin and release your sweet blood. “Then, I would drink from you while also sipping on your sweet nectar.” You nodded feverishly in response, eager for this stimulation that this would bring you. “Use your words, love.” Deviously, he placed his finger upon your clit, humming in contentment as he watched your body convulse in ecstasy in front of his eyes. “P-p-ple-ee-a-se.” You moaned out, barely able to make a single word out at this point. “I’m sorry, what was that dear? I couldn’t make that out.” “F-fuck y-you… t-te-ase.” “Oh, you will darling. You will. All in good time.”

“Bite me, Astarion. Plea-.” You finally gathered yourself together enough to state it, and you felt his fangs sink into you before you could even finish your sentence. You whimpered as he fed from your thigh, holding it down with one hand, the other arm resting on your opposite hip. Gods, you were delectable. You had brought your hands to tangle within his hair, gently massaging as he began. He suckled your skin, allowing him to intake more blood, but also causing your skin to latch closely to his tongue, where hundreds of blood vessels burst and petechiae formed, leaving a carmine-tinged love mark. A small “hmm” of pleasure left his lips as he pulled away, the circular marks that his teeth left were prominent, and bound to leave a mark. You felt woozy, similarly to the other times he had fed from you, but almost blissfully so this time. “Mmmm” the moan left your lips easily, flooding Astarion’s ears with pleasure. “You alright my love?” He peaked up at you, and you nodded. “Just a little lightheaded is all.”

“Alright, my sweet. If you need me to stop, just say the word.” You nodded as he brought his tongue to your clitoris, circling around it in a perfect spiral, suckling on it whilst savoring the taste of your sweetness. “Mmmm” you whimpered, which made Astarion’s instincts nearly feral in nature. He brought a hand to play inside of your heat, which was still rapturously wet for him. He started with one initially, and nearly moaned himself as he felt your walls clamp around just one finger. He began to imagine what it would be like to have your core wrapped around his throbbing member. Even though he had released it from his undergarments, he was still desperate from the friction only you could provide him with, the only thing that could give him relief. But right now wasn’t about him. It was very much about you, and him providing pleasure for you.

As if you could read his mind, you used his hair to pull him away from you. “Astarion, please, get inside me. Now.” You demanded. “Although you are in no position to make demands here, my sweet, I wholeheartedly agree with you.” “Yes, sir.” You agreed with him. In this particular position, Astarion was completely and utterly in control. And you think you liked it that way.

Astarion towered over you for a moment, analyzing every bit of your form. He let his eyes roam over your breasts, stomach, thighs, and then back to your slick core that ached for his entrance. And who was he to deny you such pleasure? He hovered over you once more, placing a quick yet compassionate kiss on your lips. His penis sat in between the folds of your labia, the member wettened from the contact. He grinded down ever so slightly, allowing pressure to be placed on your clitoris yet again. Then, with one swift movement, he slid back, and then within the muscular cavern of your vagina. “Fuck” you responded, you were ready for him, or so you thought. He was huge, and you weren’t sure the last time you had taken a lover. He held himself inside of you, his tip nestled against your cervix, waiting until he could proceed. “Gods darling, you’re so tight.” Astarion prompted. His pelvis pressed perfectly against yours, your thighs spread to make room for his shape.

Once your muscles had accommodated him, you looked up at him with dangerously innocent eyes and simply nodded. He took this as his sign to continue, sliding his length out of you slowly at first, and then pressing into you once again. “Mhhm” you moaned wantonly, writhing in delight. Astarion’s movements became more fluid, rocking his hips so that he moved in and out of you with ease.

You moaned over and over with his rhythm, and he pulled your legs over his shoulders, somehow enabling him to pound into you even deeper. Your core quenched around him, tightening around him even further. “Oh, sweetness. Can you take me inside of you?” He asked, and your response was a ferocious nod. “Please do” you whimpered. “Are you close, my love?” he asked, seemingly very concerned about you reaching climax together. “Mhmm love.” Astarion’s heart fluttered, knowing that you too, were close, and that the pet name he so loved throwing out could also be received.

After several more pumps inside of you, your muscles began to convulse, writhing around Astarion’s member, holding him more tightly than before. Your shaking released Astarion’s own pleasure, and he flooded your cavern with ropes of cum as you finished together. You moaned wantonly.

Astarion pulled out, allowing his fluids to begin dripping out of you. He placed a swift peck on your lips, then sliding next to you on the towel. “Gods, Astarion, that was phenomenal.” You spoke as you were finally able to catch your breath. You turned to face him. He placed a hand on your cheek, using his thumb to rub gently. “Thank you darling. That was… amazing.” His crimson eyes stared into yours, analyzing every breath, every possible thought going through that beautiful mind of yours.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind, my sweet?” Astarion inquired softly. Even though the intimacy you two had shared was incredible, he was still scared of the feelings – or lack thereof – that you may harbor for him. “Gods, I just- I didn’t think that would ever happen.” Astarion looked at you with a puzzled face, so you clarified, responding “I thought you hated me, and to be honest, I thought I hated you too, from how much we bickered.” “Ohhh, darling” Astarion sounded exasperated. “That’s what I call ‘repressed sexual tension.’” You smacked your face into your hands out of embarrassment. “I suppose you’re probably right” you mumbled. Astarion pulled you back upwards, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re just fine, my love.”

Your stomach rumbled, indicating to you that it would be desiring to eat soon. Astarion pulled you towards him, wrapping an arm around your bodice so as to keep you warm. That, and he knew that your time, for now, would be coming to an end soon. “Someone’s famished from battle today?” He asked, and you nodded. “I am quite much so, yes.” He savored himself in one final kiss on your lips. “Well darling, as much as I would love to lay here forever with you, I know you need nourishment to recover from today.” He winked.

“Yeah, yeah. One last thing before we go?” Astarion nodded, ushering you for your question. “What exactly are we?” You inquired. Your feelings were so jumbled you didn’t know what to think regarding the whole situation and where you were to stand with Astarion now. Was this just a once-off? What did he want from this? “Well, I had hoped that me marking you as mine would assert where I stand on the subject. I want you, in every sense of the word, my dear.” As he finished speaking, you had a giddy grin placed upon your mouth. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You almost shrieked in excitement, but then decided to restrain yourself. You were adorable. Truly. “Will you come to my tent tonight, after everyone has fallen into slumber?” Astarion asked. “As much as I would love that, I’m really worn out from today, and I don’t know if I could-“ he cut you off “just for a cuddle, my love.” You nodded in response to this.

You began to rise, moving your hands around you, trying to find your clothing that was scattered by your towel. “Ass, where the hell are my clothes?” You turned to look at him, and he merely looked at you with a cheeky, blushed look on his face. “I can’t tell you it wasn’t me.” He winked. “Come on, please…” you begged. “They’re by mine, over by that rock over there.” He gestured to the rock that he had hidden behind. Astarion got up as well, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your figures as you waltzed over to the rock and began to dress yourselves, Astarion taking extra time to admire you.

You walked back to camp, and Astarion shortly after. You didn’t want to make things so dreadfully obvious to your companions. The regular bickering commenced shortly after. But only you two knew what truly happened behind closed doors. Astarion finally had you, and that was like a dream to him. As he was unwinding for the night, and the stars had settled in the sky, he heard footsteps approaching his tent and your whisper, stating “Hey, love, I think everyone’s gone off to bed.” He eagerly approached the curtain, revealing your beauty behind it. “Come in, please, my darling.” Astarion was happier than he had been in 200 years, as long as he was with you.

#astarion vampire #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfiction #astarion x reader #tav x astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fandom #baldur's gate iii #astarion smut

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cl3fairyyy · 7 months

Text

hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

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In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters.

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you.

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months.

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other.

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment.

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment.

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you.

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery.

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved.

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you.

we’re finally making some REAL change : )

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek.

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it.

‘Dear Riddler,

Come find me.’

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before.

He definitely likes it.

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine.

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner.

You’re his prey.

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out.

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms.

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.”

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently.

“Looks like you caught me.”

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine.

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it.

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.”

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.”

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible.

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee.

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him.

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.”

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.”

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit.

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.”

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say.

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.”

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look.

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes.

“I need more.”

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm.

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex.

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask.

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.”

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him.

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.”

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands.

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.”

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...”

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you.

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?”

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat.

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.”

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own.

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor.

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.”

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you.

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.”

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax.

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.”

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly.

“I didn’t go too far, did I?”

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in.

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.”

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking.

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.”

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips.

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.”

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

#dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #paul dano #riddler 2022 #riddler x you #batman 2022 #edward nashton x you #riddler x reader #danocel #danonation #dano!riddler #the riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you

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cyzi4 · 2 months

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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

How jjk characters would be with an autistic partner

Warnings: none. Just fluff.

Parings: Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki, Maki Zenin, Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo, Suguru Geto.

~ 𝐘𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢, Hyperfixates with you

Yuji is always happy to hear about your newest hyper fixation and listen to you tell him every little detail. He loves listening to your rants and will probably try and get into whatever your new interest is.

“Yuji! This game is so good. The plot is so simple but its also really well crafted and the characters are amazing and theres one that I’d really think you’d like. You have to play it with me!” You beamed about your new obsession. Yuji listened to every little detail attentively. Your extensive knowledge on your favorite topics reminds him of how he obsesses over the human earthworm series. “That sounds so fun! We can play after training!”

He likes listening to all the random facts about your interests and he even gets into some of them himself so that you two can be even closer. He makes sure to do his own research on your interests so that you two can talk about them together.

~ 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨, both lack social skills

You and Megumi both lack social skills, although for very different reasons. You tend to not understand social cues while Megumi understands them, he just doesn’t care about them. However he’ll try to help you understand.

“Wait so I can’t say gn?” Megumi nods. “Some people think it means you don’t care enough to spell out the whole word” “but its more convenient?” “I know, but some people care about stuff like that” “oh..”

Megumi also makes sure to clarify what other people mean if you’re not getting it so you aren’t confused.

~ 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢, mute buddies

If you’re non-verbal, you two kinda have an understanding of each other. You two talk all the time through sign language and you always understand what he’s saying when he’s speaking in onigri ingredients.

“Tuna?” ‘I know. How is gojo even a teacher? Is he even certified?’ “Bonito flakes.” The others stared at you two. “I think they’re talking about gojo. I know a little sign language and they signed “gojo” “ Nobara stated matter of factly. “They’re saying Gojo’s an idiot.” Maki stated with a bland expression.

Sometimes, you do speak, however you speak just like inumkai with rice ball ingredients. He even tries to teach you how to speak onigiri.

“Bonito flakes?” ‘No, no’ “mustard leaf” ‘ohhhh. Tuna mayo.’ ‘Exactly.’

~ 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧, always stands up for you

Another one for if you’re non verbal. She is not afraid to get confrontational for you when someone’s bothering you. If someone even breathes in a slightly disrespectful manner Maki is staring them down with the most piercing gaze.

If it seems like someone’s invading your space, Maki will come over and physically push them out of your space. “You’re making them uncomfortable. Move.”

Someone messed up your order? Maki’s making sure they understood what you asked for. “They asked for no pickles.”

Someone speaking to you with an even slightly aggressive tone? “Speak to them like that again, asshole, and Ill make sure you never speak again.”

Maki will go to great lengths just to insure that you’re comfortable and happy.

~ 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, comforts you during meltdowns + feeds your hyperfixations

Gojo always treated you with extra care, even before learning you had autism. He’s always been comforting towards you and does his best to help with your meltdowns.

“Shh shh. It’s okay my love. Come on, wheres that smile?”

Anytime you mention even the slightest thing about any of your hyoerfixations, Gojo will have a new gift centered around it in a heartbeat. You might end up running out of places to put these gifts so gojo keeps some as little reminders of you

~ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨, steals your stims

As a cursed spirit, he doesn’t even really know what autism is. He just knows that your cute little movements mean you’re excited with something, and he thinks its a good way to show when he’s excited with something.

You squealed in excitement when you saw that your favorite tv show was on and flailed your hands in excitement. Choso saw and copied your movements when he saw the tv. “Baby look, our shows on!” “I know!!”

You once asked him about it. “well when you’re happy, you do them, and seeing you happy makes me happy, so I do them too.”

~ 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, appreciates your bluntness

Geto often doesn’t trust others initial inputs. He values your unfiltered nature and likes your blunt and truly honest opinion.

While you, Geto, and Gojo were making your way to the school, you started to take notice of Gojo’s posture. Geto noticed as well but didn’t think it was something to be brought up. However you did. “Gojo, you really need to fix your posture.” Geto slightly chuckled to himself as he watched Gojo straighten up his posture begrudgingly, slightly offended by your remark.

Another time, you and Geto were about to go on a mission when you started to take note of Geto’s appearance.“Geto your hair is getting extremely greasy. You should really wash your hair more frequently.” Geto was a bit taken aback but he was also quick to wash his hair.

…Geto also thinks that sometimes you can be overly blunt. But he loves you all the same.

#jujutsu kaisen #fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #megumi fushiguro #geto suguru #choso kamo #gojo satoru #maki zenin #yuji itadori #inumaki toge #jjk smau

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lodeddiperactivate · 2 months

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A new kind of high (Barry x Reader)

Pairing: Barry x fem!reader

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: smut, drugs

Summary: You have never done drugs before but decided you wanted to try it just so you can finally understand what the hype is all about.

Author’s note: I'm obsessed with Barry pls I need him to split me in half. I have a lot of Barry fics coming soon so please reblog if you enjoy this so I would know, and that would fuel this hyperfixation.

You have never done drugs before but decided you wanted to try it just so you can finally understand what the hype is all about.

"Aight princess, so what you need to do is..." Barry started explaining the basics.

You've only met him a couple of times in passing when Rafe needed supply. And even though, everyone has warned you to stay away from him, the truth is that you were intrigued, which is another way of saying you had a crush on him. You couldn't really help it when he's so flirty with you but you do know that there is a dark side to him, which is why he was not your first or second choice when you finally decided to try drugs.

"Rafe, come on, you're really saying No to this? You?"

"I'm sorry but I have to go to the mainland today for business. Why don't you ask Topper to teach you?"

"I already did but then he freaked out so I think he might rat me out to my parents. I need someone I can trust!"

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. We'll do it when I come back!"

"Yeah, in two weeks!" You called out to him as he boarded the truck with his dad. You sighed and decided to walk back home. That was when you saw Barry talking to one of the kooks, probably selling them stuff.

You stood there for a while, deciding if you want to ask him to help you out. You decided against it and started walking away when you heard him call your name.

"Oh hey Barry."

"Hi princess, is country club at home right now?"

"He just left for the mainland, won't be back until the end of the month."

"Shit, I swear that kid's gonna take a beating when he comes back."

You haven't realized it but you were now looking at the small bag of white powder in his hands. He looked down at what you were looking at.

"Saw something you like?" He said as he lifted the bag.

"Oh no, I was..." you stuttered. "Yes, err maybe?"

Barry gave a light chuckle before admiring you in your cute yellow sundress. Your innocence intrigued him but he was mostly impressed with your insane level of curiosity.

He moved closer and placed a hand on your lower back guiding you closer to his side as he whispered, "Come on, let's go back to my place and I'll teach you how," he said as if reading your mind. You obliged.

"Aight princess, so what you need to do is bring your nose closer like this and snort the line," after Barry showed you how it's done, it was your turn. Surprisingly it was not as bad or difficult as you thought it was.

"Good girl," he whispered in your ear. You can feel your pussy pulsate at his words. You find yourself leaning closer to him as if in a trance, wanting to close the gap between the two of you. You snapped out of it when you heard him talk.

"You alright, princess?" He had his hands on your shoulder to steady you.

"Yeah sorry, I just didn't expect the effects to be that quick," you said as he did another line. He looked at you and grinned.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just thought you were one of the good ones."

"The good ones? What's the supposed to mean? I can be bad," you tried to defend yourself.

"That's not what I meant, dollface," Barry said as he rested his arm on the back of the couch, leaning closer so that your lips are mere inches away from one another. You haven't realized it but your hand was on his knees, supporting your weight as you leaned even closer.

"I know you can be bad," his other hand pushed the hair over your shoulders as it trails down to play with the strap of your sundress. "Why don't you show me how bad you are hmm?"

You half-breathed, half-moaned his name before allowing your lips to crash on his. You were quick to reposition yourself so that you were straddling him on the couch. His hands found its way to your ass, lifting your dress along the way so that there's little fabric between your pussy and his cock. You grinded on top of him and you feel him groaned and moaned your name into the kiss.

With one quick move, he unbuckled his belt and lowered his shorts to reveal his fully erect cock. You moaned at the sight, obviously feeling the full effects of the drugs now, you instinctively got off him and on your knees ready to taste him.

"Why don't you show me what that pretty mouth can do?" His voice was like honey and you mindlessly licked him from base to tip, before sucking him fully. Barry threw his head back and grabbed your head, guiding you.

"Oh baby, you're so bad," he said encouraging you. "I bet none of the guys on your side of the town can make you feel this kind of rush huh?"

You lifted your head up to him smirking, "you have no idea how boring that side of town is."

"Hmmm you get off on a little danger huh, a little fear?" Barry said as he pulled out a gun from the back of his shorts. You froze at the sight of the gun.

"Don't worry baby, not gonna hurt ya, come here."

You straddle him and he arranged a line of coke on the flat portion of the barrel, and he held it up to your face. "Go on baby, it's gonna feel so good," he encouraged. Your mind was hazy from the first but you can feel yourself get even more wet from this whole thing. You grind on top of him, trying to feel as much as you can of him as you snorted the line on his gun. He then proceeded to lift your dress and pull your panties to the side so he can tease you by rubbing his tip at the entrance of your pussy. The knot in your stomach becomes more evident as you cannot control your whimpers, you rested your head on Barry's shoulders as he positioned himself, ready to enter you.

"It's alright princess, I got you," he said as he slowly dipped the tip inside you. You moaned his name into his ear. He couldn't believe this was happening, he had always to some extent fantasized about you but never really did anything as he thought his lifestyle was too much for you. Seeing that you were more than interested in learning all of it, he took that opportunity and eased himself even more inside you. Your walls accepted him as you feel every inch of him inside you, hitting all the right spots.

"Barry, please.." that was all he needed to bottomed himself inside you. You yelped at the impact but slowly adjusted. He was big and thick and filled you in all the right ways. You started to slowly grind on him, your hands on his chest supporting yourself. He looked up at you with hooded eyes and your head was thrown back, moaning his name again and again.

"Never thought I'd hear you moan my name like that princess. Fuck!"

You looked at him and smirked, "told you I'm not some fragile spoiled kook," you leaned in to whisper in his ears seductively, "I can take it."

"Oh yeah?" Barry grinned as he burried his nails on your hips, holding you into place, and proceeded to rail you thrusting his hips upwards so you can take more of him. You were held in place by Barry's strong grip so all you could do was hold the back of the sofa for support and another hand on Barry's chest. Your mouth was wide open and your eyes rolling from pleasure. Barry has no intention of slowing down and you were almost at your limits. Barry kept pounding you, thrusting his hips upward as he brought yours down, matching the rhythm perfectly.

"Barry, please, I'm close!"

"That's right, such a needy little slut, tell me what you want baby."

"I wanna come! I wanna come! I'm gonna come!"

"Shit, me too baby. Where do you want me to come?"

"Inside me, please, I want it. I need it!"

"Fuck!" Barry moaned as he felt you cum all over him, followed by him blowing his cum all over your insides.

You collapsed on top of him, him still inside you. You rested your head on his chest as you tried to calm your breathing. Coming down from the high, Barry let out a low hum as he stroked your back and hair, pushing it away from your face. You grinded a few times before letting him slip out of you.

You were both still breathing heavily as you sat side by side, slouched on the sofa. When you looked up at him, he had his eyes closed. He can feel you watching him.

"So how much do I owe you for the coke?" You jokingly ask.

He opened his eyes and looked at you, he had a wild grin on his face. He leaned closer so you were looking directly into his deep rich brown eyes, "Maybe I can come up with a different kind of payment method for you," he said as he planted a soft kiss on your lips.

#outer banks #obx smut #barry obx smut #barry obx #barry obx x reader #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #obx!barry #rafe cameron

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