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traumadumpwriter · 3 days ago
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JJ Maybank X Reader ~ Relapse and a Half
My first OBX fic. I hope y’all like it.
Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into hard drugs, but they’re unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.
Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, sexual assault, violence
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Part two
Part One:
You'd been on the edge for a while now. The relapse should've been seen from a mile off. Your uncharacteristic quietness, the way you'd get lost in your thoughts, the distant look in your eyes. Everyone could tell that something was up, but even when they questioned you about it you had no real answers to give - uncertain yourself of what was making you feel so withdrawn.
When you'd first moved to OBX with your busy mum, you'd instantly found a group of friends - a really good group of friends - the Pogues. And they'd been quick to suss out that you were hiding things - particularly JJ. You were practically never sober, for starters, and though he wasn't either, you had a way of taking it to the next level. This was fun most of the time, but sometimes it got to a level that was concerning - even to the most problematic Pogue on the island. Whenever he'd pushed you for answers, trying to figure out what exactly you were self medicating for, you got extremely annoyed and so he never really got a straight answer. You couldn't bare to be so vulnerable with anyone - let alone the boy you'd started to develop feelings for - so you remained somewhat of a mystery.
Sure, there had been nights when you'd shared a bed - both of you very drunk. You'd convince yourself that maybe JJ liked you, maybe the sex meant more to him than just sex, but then when he'd continue to treat you like just a friend the morning after, your hopes would be crushed. It’s not like you ever gave him any reason to think that the sex was anything other than casual, but that was because you didn’t want him to be able to reject you. And besides, could he not tell that you wanted more? Kiera could and she wasn’t even in the bedroom.
Then the overdose happened. The Pogue's had suspected that you'd been taking something other than just alcohol for a while. The night that you'd almost died at the Chateau their suspicions became a painful fact. You'd taken a few too many pills - benzodiazepines to be exact - and though you'd known that you were reaching a point of no return, after hearing all about the gorgeous touron that JJ had been obsessed with, you couldn't bring yourself to stop.
That night had been awful for everyone, and you'd ended up tearfully promising that you would get clean after that, unable to bear the hurt on the Pogue's faces. So you'd been almost a year clean now, blossoming into a new person that the Pogue's liked even more than the old you. Yours and JJ's relationship remained just as complicated though - still having the occasional hookup but largely seeming as if you were just friends. Now that you weren't on pills and you could actually fully remember the sex, it hurt even more in the morning after. Still, you continued, desperate to feel wanted even if it was just for a night.
You hadn't realised how much this routine was actually bothering you until in a night similar to the one you'd overdosed on, JJ had been making out with another gorgeous touron.
*Your POV*
I'd watched jealously from across the party, ignoring the sound of Kie in my ear telling me that "I was much prettier than that touron."
I appreciated the sentiment, but I knew it was a lie, and so in a split second decision, I told Kie that I was going to go home. "I'm going to have an early one." I said, knowing it was a lie. "I'll see you tomorrow."
In that split second decision, I'd decided that all of my progress didn't matter if I still felt this worthless. What was the point in being clean if it meant that I wanted to die? JJ's insistence had been one of the things that had motivated me to stay away from the pills, but he hadn't been interested in me for a while now. He hadn't even asked me for a fuck. Had he grown bored of me? Or maybe I had gotten uglier without realising it. Maybe I had put on some weight or he didn't like my haircut. Maybe he’d developed feelings for a different girl - a better girl.
Kie nodded worriedly, clearly not sure whether to believe me or not. I hadn't even directly confessed to her that I liked JJ, she was just the only one in the group who wasn't too stupid to see it.
"Okay. Be safe." She smiled, pulling me into a hug, and though I felt bad, I still hopped on my bike and headed straight to Barry's as soon as the coast was clear.
Kie would be devastated if she'd known where I was actually going. So would John B, and Pope, and maybe even JJ, but they would forgive me quicker than her. At least, I thought that they would.
Blurred memories of the night I'd overdosed filled my mind; the sound of shouting, someone's fingers down my throat, a muffled sob, flashing lights. A shiver of shame ran down my spine as I struggled to push the images from my mind.
The ride to Barry's was short, though it felt like a lifetime as all the things I hated about myself bounced around in my head like a torturous broken record. Of course JJ didn't want to be with me. I wasn't beautiful enough. I wasn't cool enough. I wasn't good enough. I would just continue to be his slutty friend that he could stick it in whenever it was convenient for him, and he didn't even seem to want that anymore. The thought made me even more ashamed, remembering all the times I'd let him fuck me, hoping that he'd found me beautiful, thinking that maybe he liked me, just to realise in the morning that I was easy to him.
Yet I knew, that if he were to approach me in that moment and ask for a fuck, I wouldn't say no. I wanted to be wanted so badly, even if it was just for a fleeting moment, and the feeling was unbearable. It ate me up inside, making my chest tight and my eyes water. I was quick to blink any dampness away from my eyes though, focused instead on the high that I would soon have - the comfortable numbness that it would bring me. My clean streak meant nothing, a stupid concept when compared to the internal anguish I felt. From my low self esteem to my repressed trauma, I had no fight left in the battle to stay clean. Sure, the Pogue's would be upset if they found out, but I wouldn't let them find out. I would keep it low-key, unlike I did before.
When I knocked on Barry's door, I was relieved that he was the one to answer and the house was seemingly empty, meaning I only had to speak to him. His friends were annoying, and though I didn't particularly like Barry, I found him funny sometimes.
"Well shit, Y/N. Been a while." He grinned.
"Yeahh. Well I'm back." I said with a mock smile.
"Come inside."
The transaction had soon been completed; a pot of pills in my hand and some cash in Barry's. I leant back into the sofa and took one immediately, swallowing it down with a beer handed to me by him.
"Bad night?" He questioned with an amused scoff.
"Something like that." I answered. "How about you? Place ain't usually this empty on a Friday." 
"Want my own company sometimes. That a crime?"
"No. Just strange is all." I murmured, taking another swig from the beer.
Paired with my already drunkenness, the feeling of the pill was starting to hit - hard and strong - and I felt my body slump comfortably into the sofa. My head felt light whilst the rest of my body felt heavy, creating a strange, cosy sensation. It was a feeling I'd missed.
"Well what happened with you, party princess?" He scoffed, cracking open a beer for himself.
I let out a light chuckle at the question, now feeling as if it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
"Dumb shit."
"You looked pretty upset when I opened the door. Boyfriend troubles?"
I raised my eyebrows in mock offence.
"Why would I have a boyfriend?" I questioned with a laugh "Who'd you hear that from?"
Barry laughed too.
"Cus a girl like you - you're pretty. I'm surprised some Kook hasn't swiped you up."
I snorted at that and rolled my eyes.
"Well thanks I guess."
I thought about having sex with Barry in that moment, just to hear him call me pretty again. But I decided against it, slightly sickened by the idea, and pulled myself off the sofa.
"I should go, see you around?"
"You sure you can ride that thing safely?"
"Yeah. I'll be fine." I chuckled before heading out the door and throwing myself back onto my bike.
The ride home was perilous, and though I did almost crash a few times, my body went into autopilot and I was soon safely in my bed, mind too numb to pick myself apart for the first night in a while.
For the next week I was able to keep the pill-taking to a minimum, only popping two a day at most. I only did it to make the thoughts stop - to bring on the comfortable numbness so that I could actually bare to be awake. So that I could actually bare to be around my friends.
I'd always managed to keep my feelings for JJ locked up and manageable, but for some reason seeing him with that touron had bothered me in ways I hadn't been bothered before. Perhaps it was because she was so gorgeous, or maybe it was how pleased JJ looked to have pulled her. Either way, it just reinforced to me how worthless I was. He brought her up one day at the Chateau and it instantly made me feel hot with annoyance.
"That touron from the other night just texted me, should I go there again?" He said with a proud smirk, looking around the room.
I rolled my eyes and picked up the half smoked blunt from the ashtray, relighting it and sucking on it in hopes that it would make my jealousy fade.
"Didn't you steal like a hundred dollars from her purse?" Pope scoffed, eyes focused on the television. Adventure Time was playing with the volume on low, and both Pope and Kie seemed more interested in it than the conversation that JJ and John B had been having. I'd been drifting lazily between the two, too high to properly contribute to anything, but now JJ had my full attention.
"Yeah. Obviously didn't notice though. Girl had too much cash for her own good." He mused, eyes on his phone screen. "Ooh! And guess what she just sent me."
"Tit pic?" John B asked, a grin crawling onto his lips.
"Tit pic." JJ confirmed, chucking his phone over to John B.
"Nice." He chuckled, looking at the phone before chucking it back to JJ.
"You guys are disgusting." Kie scoffed. "I mean like really JJ? Did that girl send you that picture for you to show your friend? You have no respect for women sometimes."
"I respect women very much, actually Kie. I respect you and Y/N. I respect your mums and Pope's mum. I just don't respect easy, spoiled touron's like her." He said defensively, and I loudly scoffed at that. He didn't respect me.
"What? You think I don't respect women too?" He asked me with furrowed brows, crossing his arms.
He was sat across the room from me; myself, Kie and Pope spread out across the sofa whilst him and John B sat in chairs. I looked him up and down, pleased that there was no lump in my throat to swallow, no butterflies in my stomach to squash and no loving gaze to hide.
“Sure, you really respect women JJ. Whatever you say.”
He looked surprised by that response, probably expecting me to get defensive, then continued on a rant about how he wasn’t misogynistic. Kie argued with him for a little bit, and John B and Pope eventually joined in too. Usually I also would’ve joined, just for the amusement of it all, but no words came to my mind. Instead I just watched, chuckling at the occasional insult being thrown and smoking my blunt.
Two weeks later and I’d upped the dose to at least four pills a day. The thoughts had gotten harder to crush, growing a tolerance. Much to my relief though, none of the Pogue’s seemed to suspect anything.
It was a hot day and we’d decided to go swimming, using the inner ring of a tire as a floaty - which we all fought over.
“I stole the tire, so I should get it!” JJ proclaimed, and though he was right, I wanted the ring.
“Okay well if you’re not a woman hater, prove it by letting me and Kie have the ring!” I grinned.
“Yeah! Prove it!” Kie added, high-fiving me.
JJ groaned and rolled his eyes, but eventually gave in with a slight smirk to me.
“Okay fine - but we’re sharing it!”
I giggled at his childish nature, feeling the butterflies rise up in my stomach that I’d been managing so well to suppress. The second that I realised what I was feeling, I knew that I needed to take another pill.
“I’m gonna go pee. Don’t wait for me.” I said, heading back indoors.
Once I was in the bathroom, I dug through my bag to find the orange pot, irritated when I realised that I didn’t have a lot left. I’d have to go back to Barry’s soon. That was annoying. I swallowed one of the pills with some water from the sink and looked at myself in the mirror before heading back out. I looked tired and unattractive and I sighed at that, thinking of how good the girl that JJ had been dancing with at the boneyard this week looked.
I reached into the fridge and took myself out a beer, cracking it open and downing half of it before stepping out of the kitchen. I didn’t expect to see JJ stood on the porch waiting for me, a slight furrow to his brow. I purposely hadn’t been alone with him in weeks and it sent a pang of anxiety into my chest.
“Starting this early? Haven’t seen you do that in a while. You feeling alright?” He asked, his voice soft.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You just seem.. different.” He was wording himself carefully, I could tell, which was very out of character for him. What could he possibly want from me?
“I’m just tired.” I said with a huff and tried to walk past him.
He suddenly put his hands on my waist, which was exposed in a bikini, holding me still. At the initial contact, I felt electrified, but I was quickly reminded of what I had missed - and the reasons why. I worried that my flesh felt too squishy under his fingers, that there was too much of it, or that the dip of my waist wasn’t defined enough. Compared to that touron I probably felt like a whale.
“What’s going on Y/N? Are you mad at me?” He asked, his eyes wide with concern, but I couldn’t think about his words - only the crippling self hatred his hand on my waist was making me feel.
I stepped backwards so that he was no longer touching me, something that only seemed to deepen the crease between his eyebrows, and blinked a couple of times before I could speak.
“I’m, uh- I’m going to grab a shirt.”
And with that I paced back inside, finishing the beer and pulling one of John B’s oversized vests over my bikini. The pill hadn’t kicked in yet and I could still see JJ stood waiting on the porch so I decided to go into the bathroom and take another. Then I grabbed another beer from the fridge and downed it, relieved when I felt the relaxing effects kick in almost immediately.
“Why are you downing beer? Since when do you do that?” JJ’s voice from behind me made me jump, his face critical.
“I’m just having a good time.” I smiled at him.
“Really? Because you don’t look like you’re having a good time. You look miserable, Y/N.”
Was it that easy to see through my charade? It irritated me that he cared now when he should’ve cared a couple of weeks ago. Now it was too late.
I huffed and shook my head, managing to walk past him this time undisrupted and lead the way to the water.
“I’m fine. Come on, let’s go.”
He didn’t bother me for the inflatable ring at all. In fact, he didn’t speak to me for hours after that. I wasn’t bothered by it though, the mix of booze and benzos that had finally hit making me entirely unfazed by everything. The comfortable numbness that I craved so badly.
I lay floating in the ring for what felt like hours, my eyes closed as I felt the waves move me freely around. The water was so cold compared to the beaming sun, but the two extremes together made me feel more relaxed than I had been in a while. Maybe I had fallen asleep, I wasn’t too sure, but when someone was suddenly directly next to me, interfering with the natural direction of the waves, I jumped up at their presence.
“What are you thinking about?”
It was Kie, her tone lighthearted though her face was concerned.
“Not much. The sound of the water mostly. You?” I answered truthfully.
“Honestly, right now I’m thinking about you.”
“Why? You into me or something?” I teased, not expecting her tone to change to match her face.
“No Y/N I’m serious. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird ever since that party with the blonde touron.”
Kie was catching on, which was bad. It wouldn’t take her much to figure out what was really happening, so I had to come up with a lie, or maybe not a lie but a distraction.
“Yeah. Okay. I’m sad about JJ… But it doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.” I confessed, relieved when I saw the stress in Kie’s face relax.
“He’s a total idiot. You can do better than him anyway.” She said with exasperation, stroking my hair.
“No I can’t.” I laughed. “But like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
Kie sighed.
“I wish you weren’t so harsh on yourself. If you could see what other people could see you wouldn’t be.”
I smiled at her, feeling appreciation for the girl buzz through me.
“Love ya Kie.”
She smiled too, but it was weaker than usual.
“Love you too… Now give me the floatie.”
When it got dark some hours later we all piled back into the Chateau and put on a movie, squeezing onto the couch. I sat on the edge and much to my displeasure, JJ sat next to me. That displeasure only lasted a second though before it was washed over by a tidal wave of carelessness, and I was able to relax my body against his like he was anyone - not the most problematic Pogue on the island.
The movie went on for a while until JJ shifted positions, wrapping his arm around me and placing his hand on my leg.
This had been a fairly standard position for us, his fingers creeping up my thigh in the darkness of the room and our friends none the wiser. Now it felt different though, and instead of being excited by it I was annoyed. Was I only good enough to touch in secret? Was he touching me now just because I was there and it was something to do? Could he only bare to touch me when he was drunk? I needed to take another pill.
With a wobble, I flicked JJ’s hands from me and pushed myself up, grabbing my handbag and heading to the bathroom. Pope and Kie had passed out on top of each other and John B was too engrossed in the movie to look up. So when I heard a knock on the bathroom door, I knew who it was before it even opened.
“I didn’t say you could come in. I could’ve been taking a shit.” I teased.
JJ’s stoney face didn’t offer a crack of amusement as he stepped closer to me.
“What’s going on with you? It’s like you can’t stand to be around me. Have I done something?”
“No. Everything is fine.” I answered with a fake smile.
He didn’t buy it, becoming visibly annoyed.
“You’re so full of shit Y/N. Don’t try to play dumb with me right now. I know you’re pissed off about something.”
“Why do I have to be pissed off about something?” I said combatively, crossing my arms.
“Because you’re acting like my touch is gonna make you sick or something and you clearly can’t stand to be around me! Is this because of that tit pic I showed John B? I don’t get it. Are you jealous or something? Or do you just think I’m a sexist pig too?”
“My world doesn’t revolve around you. Have you ever considered that I just stopped giving a shit about what you do?”
I usually felt horrible about lying to my friends, but looking at his beautiful face, thinking of how he didn’t want me, the lie came out easily. He clearly didn’t buy it though.
“Oh really? Is that why you don’t want to fuck anymore? Because you stopped giving a shit about me? Yeah right.” He scoffed and I felt my face start to angrily heat up. “What the fuck is going on? Did someone tell you some bullshit about me? Do you have a boyfriend now or something?”
I scoffed right back at him, widening my eyes in disbelief.
“Would that make you jealous? If I had a boyfriend?”
“Do you or do you not?” He demanded with gritted teeth.
I didn’t answer for a moment, enjoying the stressed expression on his usually uncaring face. Did he really care if I had a boyfriend? Surely not in any way that mattered. Just in some stupid male ego way. I sighed at that and uncrossed my arms as I answered.
“Obviously not. Who would want to be with me? Don’t be stupid, JJ. Now what did you come in here for?”
He looked at me incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I didn’t understand why he seemed so stressed for and it was irritating to me.
“For this conversation, right now! What do you think I came in here for?” He said exasperatedly and I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t know but can you leave? I need to pee.”
“No, I can’t leave until I know what the fuck is going on with you. Jesus! How much have you had to drink?”
Had I been slurring? I couldn’t tell.
“Not enough for this.” I tutted bitterly.
He sucked in his lips and took a deep breath, eyeing me like he was trying to work something out.
“Wait, look at me straight for a second.” He muttered, reaching his hand out to touch my face, angrily repeating himself when I questioned why.
His thumb stroked over my bottom lip and I straightened my back, trying to match his stare but unable to stand completely still. He hadn’t looked at me with such intrigue in a long time, and I was glad I was so high or else I would’ve completely submitted under his blue gaze. His next words instantly shattered any fantasies that could’ve been playing in my head though, instead filling me with unreasonable rage.
“You’re high aren’t you?”
I knew it wasn’t a question. The steely look in JJ’s eyes and his flared nostrils made it abundantly clear that he’d already figured out the answer for himself. But I couldn’t let him think he was right.
“I mean yeah, I’ve smoked a lot today, you have too-”
“You know that’s not what I mean.” He hissed, dropping his hand from my face. “I can’t fucking believe you. This is why you’ve been acting weird. I should’ve known.”
I rolled my eyes and mumbled “You’re overreacting, I’m just drunk” to which he quickly shot back “Oh yeah? Why are your pupils the size of mars then?”
“They’re not.” I felt my footing slip slightly as I lied, and I had to quickly lean against the wall to stop myself from falling.
“And now you’re just lying to my face. Nice one Y/N. How long had you been clean? A year, almost?”
I thought of the hours that he’d spent with me when I’d first gotten sober; looking after me when I was being sick, bringing around food, washing my hair. I’d felt so loved. I’d felt like there was no reason for me to ever pick up a benzo again.
The betrayal in his voice told me that that would never be happening again. With a huff, I picked up my bag from the side and shoved past the blonde, gasping when he grabbed my arm.
“Where are you trying to go now?” He laughed humourlessly.
“Get off me, JJ. I’m going home.”
“What because you’ve been caught out?”
“No. Because you’re being a dick.”
He wouldn’t loosen his grip on my arm despite my desperate pulling and so I started to speak louder, hoping someone would intervene and give me a chance to slip out.
“Get off me!”
“I’m not letting you go.” He said with gritted teeth, tightening his grip. “What have you taken?”
“Get the fuck off me!” I repeated louder, relieved when John B appeared in the doorway.
“What the hell is going on?” He looked between us with a concerned expression and JJ loosened his grip.
“She’s on fucking drugs again, John B.” JJ hissed and though I wanted to argue and try to prove him wrong, I quickly slipped out of the bathroom and paced out of the house, ignoring JJ’s shouts from behind me.
“What the fuck is going on Y/N?”
“Do you just not give a shit about yourself? About your friends?”
“How could you do this? You were clean for so long.”
His words stung, and though I rationally knew he was right, I was too ashamed to feel anything other than anger and embarrassment. The Pogue’s would hate me now, and rightfully so.
I understood why JJ was so annoyed. I’d listened to him seethe about his dad, about how he was an abusive drug addict - but yet, when the blonde came home and he was passed out on the sofa, JJ still always checked if he was breathing. I’d seen the bruises, and met the man who left them, begrudgingly shook his hand and tried to forget what he’d done with them. Was I reminding JJ of that? Was I like his piece of shit father?
In a rush, I picked up my bike and went to get on it but instantly fell over, dropping the bike as I did.
“You’re gonna ride home like this? Seriously?” JJ’s voice came from behind me, loud and aggressive.
I struggled to pick my bike back up, almost falling over it again, and his hands were suddenly on top of mine, holding the handles and stopping me from going. John B was quick behind him.
“Are you really on drugs, Y/N?” John B questioned, eyes wide.
“I’m just drunk.” I hissed, trying to pull the bike out of JJ’s grip.
“Right, she says she’s just drunk, let her go JJ.” John B said harshly but JJ scoffed.
“She’s lying! Look at her! She can’t even walk properly!”
Then he turned to me, his voice suddenly pleading and face full of pain. It caught me off guard and I felt another pang of guilt ripple through my body, tears attempting to escape my eyes but being successfully pushed back by the Xanax.
“What have you taken, Y/N? Please don’t lie to me. I know you’ve taken something.”
I wanted to tell him the truth so bad. The whole truth. I wanted to break down and beg for his forgiveness, to tell him I loved him and that I would get clean again.
But I couldn’t do it.
There was no point.
I’d ruined everything now anyway.
“I’m just drunk. Leave me alone.” I slurred and tried to pull the bike from his grip again.
It didn’t work. I fell backwards onto the ground, landing on my butt with a groan. I laughed at my fall instinctively, forgetting the situation I was in for a second, but when I looked up and saw my friend’s distressed faces my laughing stopped. Even John B looked suspicious now, his eyes snapping from mine to JJ’s. He bent down and pulled me up with ease, though he huffed after he’d done it.
“Y/N, can we look in your bag?”
My heart leapt into my throat and I quickly jumped to defence.
“No way you fucking pervs. Let me go home.”
He turned to JJ with an straight face and both of them exchanged a short look before looking back at me.
That was it. He believed JJ. He knew.
“I’m not letting you ride home. I’ll drive you.”
His voice had been so monotone, so void of any real offering, that it caught me off guard. He was angry. I looked at JJ. He was angry too.
“N-No. I’m fine. I can ride-”
“I’m fucking driving you home, Y/N. Get in the Twinkie.” John B cut me off sharply and I jumped backwards, almost falling again until he caught me.
They both looked so disappointed and I was so ashamed at that point that all I could do was nod, following him silently to the van. JJ said nothing and I didn’t dare look back to see if he was looking, though I felt that I could feel his stare on the back of my head. This was the worst thing that could’ve happened. Why did I have to take it so far? Why did I have to lie to their faces like that?
The short drive back to mine was agonisingly silent, all John B said was “Look after yourself” before I stepped out of the van.
My voice got caught in my throat and all I could force out was “Y-Yeah” before closing the door and stumbling towards my house.
Had I destroyed my friendship with the Pogues? It certainly felt like I had.
67 notes · View notes
unicyclehippo · 3 days ago
Note
Hey, Ollie, you mentioned AGES ago that Show Me the Way Home (Avatrice) had a second chapter, it just wasn't perfect yet-- do you think you'll ever post it? Or is that officially an abandoned fic?
its not abandoned, i actually did some minor editing on it the other day. the problem is that its a very seasonally locked piece in my mind & also im lazy & also a perfectionist & also i want to watch wn again before i keep writing it bc i need to rmbr what the characters are like & basically any one of those obstacles are enough to shut me right down so.
it actually is a four part story & if u want, i can share a little with u now? maybe that'll make me feel better for not posting it yet lmao
thursday 22nd december
// 6:55 //
Beatrice stood by the doorway of her apartment, phone in hand and duffel bag at her feet, and wished she was already at her parent’s holiday home. 
It wasn’t that she thought their reunion would be simple or pleasant; it was more that today had started hot and was getting hotter and her parents kept their home at a crisp twenty-three degrees at all hours of the day and night, environmental impact be damned. As the humidity clung to her, a bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck, Beatrice’s thoughts drifted to the crystal blue pool and the ocean wind that would blow up from the cove and she checked her phone again for any word from her driver. 
Camila’s voice travelled from the kitchen. ‘Maybe you should take the can opener with you. I mean, what if you need to open a can and you don’t have one? There might be beans. Baked beans, cannellini beans, red kidney beans.’
‘I’m sure my parents have one. They do have a kitchen. And a personal chef.’
Camila heard her. The apartment was too small for her not to have heard but she continued listing off every tinned item she could think of. 
‘Lentils, obviously. Diced tomatoes, crushed tomatoes, peeled tomatoes, puréed tomatoes.’ There was a long pause. Beatrice wondered if Camila was reading the labels of what they had in the pantry; if she was, those lentils had been there for a very long time. ‘Tinned peaches.’
‘I think those come with a tab now,’ Beatrice pointed out. She kept her voice mild, not really wanting to draw Camila’s attention to her hiding place by the door. 
At some point over the last few days, the nerves buzzing under Beatrice’s skin had jumped ship and now Camila was the one pacing the confines of their apartment. She’d picked over every inch of the house in search of things Beatrice might need—which ranged from the useful, like the good phone charger she’d “found” (definitely hadn’t stolen out of her room a month ago) to what could be charitably called not useful, like the can opener—and now she stood at the end of the hall bearing the can opener and a dark frown befitting a serial killer. 
Beatrice cleared her throat. Carefully, she said, ‘I really don’t think I need it.’
Camila looked down at her weapon. ‘Oh. Right. No, sure, of course not.’ She tossed it backward into the living room; it missed the couch, landing instead on the floor with a loud thud, the sound of their rental bond being instantly halved. Beatrice winced. Camila seemed not to have noticed, though, and with her hands now empty she returned to chewing nervously at her thumb nail. She scanned the living room, hawkish, before fixing her attention on Beatrice once more. 
‘Can I help you?’
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘Camila…’
‘Because you don’t have to. You know that, don’t you? It’s not your only option—you could come home with me again! My parents would love it, we’d all love it, I promise. And you wouldn’t be intruding at all, I swear. The boys ask about you all the time and when you’re coming to visit again.’
‘They’re very sweet.’
‘Sweet! When they want something, sure! They’re still hoping you’ll teach them how to throw people—they bring up your match with Conner every time I call home.’
‘Tell them I’ll think about it.’
‘That can be your Christmas present for them. And Pop, he says you’re the only good one of the bunch.’
‘It’s because I don’t talk.’
‘I know. Poor guy. Christmas in a household of me’s. It’s so loud we have to mime everything for him.’
Beatrice smiled. ‘He turns off his hearing aids.’
‘What? That sneak!’
‘Don’t tell him I was the one that dobbed him in.’
‘It’ll be the very first thing I say—then you won’t be his favourite anymore and the rest of us will have a fair shot.’ Laughter shone in her eyes; it faded a little as she stared at Beatrice, gaze flicking down to the duffel at her feet. ‘I’m serious, Bea. You could call up your parents and tell them you’re not coming anymore. I’d prefer you tell them to go fuck themselves but.’ She sucked in a breath, shook her head. ‘Bea. Don’t waste your time on them. Spend your holiday with people who want you around. Who love you.’
It was a tempting offer. Of course it was.
From the day they met, Camila had been Beatrice’s friend; from the second, her sister. She’d gone out of her way to be all that a sister could be—kind, understanding, supportive, deeply irritating—and offered it all without cost. Her family was just the same. 
Beatrice remembered last Christmas fondly. The singing, the laughter, her chair squashed up to the end of the table next to Camila’s, the friendly chatter, the elbows bumping, the squabbles breaking out, the yet more guests arriving and pulling up a chair, the pass the salt, pass the butter, pass the damn water would you I’m dying over here, where’s the champagne, Arthur we don’t need another bottle of champagne it’s not even midday for Christssake, Beatrice do you want a second serve help yourself sweetheart, when do we open the presents. It had been loud, sometimes overwhelming, and wonderful all the same. 
But. 
Beatrice shook her head. 
Camila sighed. ‘I had to try, obviously.’
‘I know. Thank you.’ She set her hand on Camila’s wrist and squeezed. ‘I appreciate it, very much. Please tell them… Please tell everyone I miss them and that I’ll see them soon.’
‘You mean for your surprise birthday party?’
Beatrice smiled. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’
‘Good. Because mum’s going to need a menu from you—’
‘I thought we agreed we’d buy the food, Camila, I’m not making your mum cook for me.’
‘She likes to cook for her kids. Unless you want me to tell her you’d prefer eating a stranger’s food over hers?’ Beatrice scowled at the bold threat. ‘That’s what I thought. Pick what you want and I’ll tell her. Better yet, text her yourself.’
‘If I know your mother, she has something in mind already.’
‘More like eleven somethings.’ 
They shared an identical grin. Camila’s mother had a small habit of going overboard for parties and events. A buzz broke the moment. They both glanced down at Beatrice’s phone. 
Mr. Morris I have arrived
Beatrice Thank you. I will be there momentarily.
Beatrice nodded. This was it. She slid her phone into her pocket. ‘Mister Morris is here. I should go.’ To Camila’s suddenly stricken expression, she soothed, ‘It will be fine, Camila.’ And, because she was not completely oblivious to Camila’s concern, ‘I will be fine.’
‘I know that. Of course I know that. But I want—you don’t have to be just fine. You should be having fun. You’re my best friend, Bea, I want you to be happy.’
Beatrice paused. She struggled for a moment to think of a way to explain the purpose of this holiday to Camila, explain her purpose, in a way that she would understand and accept. 
‘It means so much,’ she began, carefully, ‘to be welcome in your family. But they will always be your family.’
‘Bea…’
‘You and they are all beyond generous.’ She held up a hand to stop Camila interrupting. ‘I know they love me, and I love them. I do love Christmas with your family. It’s always wonderful and comfortable and fun.’ She paused, considering her words. ‘But this is - this is about me,’ she admitted with difficulty, and was rewarded for the effort when Camila softened. ‘I want to go. I need to find out whether I have a place with them or not. And I’ve been so uncertain of how it might turn out that I haven’t tried. But this invitation is an opportunity. One would like to make the most of.’
Camila grabbed both of her hands and pulled her close. Very intensely, she said, ‘Okay.'
'Okay? Just like that?' Beatrice asked, doubtful.
'Yeah. I’m not going to say I understand because I don’t. It honestly makes me furious and a little bit sick to think of you going back to them. But I love you and I trust you and I want you to call me if you need anything. And whatever happens, Beatrice, you always have a place with me. Always.’
Beatrice smiled. Shifted so that she was the one holding Camila’s hands. Her friend wouldn’t let her go willingly and there was a big part of Beatrice that wanted to let herself be held tight and give in to her friend’s protectiveness, to be bundled safely up into Camila’s terrifying little car and trundling off to visit family. 
It was hard to pull free. 
Beatrice stepped back and opened the door.
‘There’s no need to fret, Camila. I’ll have Ava with me, remember?’
‘Yeah. I know. It’ll be great, you’ll see.’ The tightness around her eyes told Beatrice she didn’t quite believe her own words. ‘And you’ll call me.’
‘Every day.’
With one last hug, Beatrice picked up her bags and left. 
// 7:03 //
The town car waited for her outside the apartment. It was sleek and black, washed and polished; the only evidence of the recent storms were faint specks of grey mud deep in the tyre wells.
Beatrice stopped at the bottom of the stairs, observing the car and its driver—Mister Morris, patiently stood at the kerb—and swallowed around a lump in her throat. He looked the same as when she had left. A little more silver in his hair.
He might not have changed much but she had. Now that she was grown (or perhaps, now that she was not in that household), she found herself full of questions—where was it that Mister Morris had driven from? Where did he live? Had the storms been bad on his side of town? How had he passed the time? Had they lost power? (She and Camila had huddled in their living room—it was, Camila had insisted, the perfect weather for a marathon of gory slashers—and the rain had hammered against the windows with frightening strength but had done no damage. She knew others had not been so fortunate.) Most pressing of all, how had he been? Questions that could not be answered by hiding.
Beatrice gripped the strap of her duffel and, setting her shoulders, marched to meet him.
‘Good morning, Mister Morris.’
‘Miss Turner,’ he greeted her, his smile small but true. ‘A pleasure to see you again. How are you?’
‘Quite well, thank you.’ Then, keeping her tone light and brisk, ‘And yourself?’
‘Very well, Miss Turner. Very well.’ It looked as if he wanted to say something more but then he only smiled and cleared his throat. ‘Your luggage, Miss?’
‘I can see to it myself.’
Beatrice stashed her duffel in the boot then folded herself neatly into the backseat. Mr. Morris retook the driver’s seat. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Beatrice fixed her eyes on the headrest in front of her.
‘We have another stop to make, Mr Morris.’
‘Yes, miss. Do you have the address?’
‘I do.’ She ran a finger along the inside of her watchband, rubbing away the sweat that had gathered there. She made it a notch tighter, then loosened once more. ‘They are - That is to say, she is my—’
Mr. Morris met her eyes in the rear-view mirror. His were green and kind. The kindness did not make it easier to say.
‘She is my girlfriend.’ 
‘Yes. I know.’
‘Oh.’
‘Though your mother used slightly different terminology. Companion, I believe she said.’ He kept his eyes locked onto the rearview mirror. When Beatrice glanced into it again, he said warmly, ‘Congratulations, miss. That’s wonderful. I’m very glad to hear it.’
When she had been younger, there had been a stretch of time where running away had seemed very appealing. Each time she attempted it, Beatrice had never made it further than the park four streets from her home. She’d been too pragmatic, even at ten years old, but she’d also been stubborn so Beatrice had say there in the swing until someone noticed; whomever did notice, it was always Mr. Morris who collected her. She was reminded of it as he started the engine. The sound of its growl scared old memories out of hiding—she remembered how the plastic swing creaked, the feel of the metal chain in her little hands, how the gravel of the park entry had crunched beneath the town car tyres. How the headlights had washed over her and away with the tilt of his park and how invisible she’d felt when the lights turned off. Like a ghost haunting the playground.
Beatrice stared thoughtfully at his back, remembering how he would climb out of the car and sit next to her on a too-small swing until she’d been ready to return.
‘Thank you, Mr Morris.’
He nodded. Then, ‘I do still need her address, miss.’
‘Oh. Yes, of course.’
26 notes · View notes
eddiesvixen · 8 hours ago
Text
Jessie’s Girl
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𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿, 𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝗰𝗶𝗴𝘀)
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗻𝘁: 𝟰.𝟱𝗸
the third chapter of Open Til Midnight
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June 23, 1979.
You and Eddie were at Skull Rock. Fourteen years young and laying back on a blanket, snacking and listening to Black Sabbath together. Eddie’s got his vest off, sewing a new patch onto it.
“Motörhead.”
“Yeah. Can you believe I got this at the fabric store. Kenny made it for me.” He smiles as he sews the patch on.
“Wish we could see them live. No way would they ever come here.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t even think they know Hawkins exists.”
You look over him. Eddie’s changed from a punk to thrash guy. His curls moving with every head shake to the music. “Your hair’s growing so long.”
“Yeah. Wayne says I’m starting to look more and more like my mom. Think he just wanted an excuse to say I look ridiculous again.”
You laugh. “You know he means well.”
“Yeah.. think he’s just tired of buying new shampoo. Not like he needed any hair cair.” He snorts.
“You tried another shampoo?” That’s the third one this month. Eddie just wants to make sure his mane smells good. He remembers in those interviews on Mtv that girls are attracted to rockstars and hire they smell, what they wear, what they play. With his new hairdo, new hellfire tees and promised gigs at the hideout on tuesdays, he was on the route to that dream.
“I did.” He smirks, proud of himself. “Go on give it a whiff.”
You lean in and his curls tickle your nose. You hum. “Blueberries?”
He nods. “And..”
“Something minty.” You raise a brow. “Peppermint?”
“Lemon mint.” He smiles. “What do you think?”
You giggle. “Think I have the same one.”
His eyes widen. “You’re joking right?”
“Wish I were. You’re swooning ladies with their own shampoo, Eddie.” You giggle and he shakes his head.
“Blasphemy. The bottle was in the men’s section.”
“Yeah but did you read the bottle? Did it say mens?”
“I just smelled it and put it in the cart.” He smiles at your laughter, now laughing at himself. “Damn. I can’t win can I?”
“Well you’re still new to having hair this long. And you’ve got all summer to rebirth yourself.”
“Damn straight, princess. And we’re gonna go through high school like nothing. Me and the boys can rehearse and have some real campaigns now that we’ve got the club. And since we’ve got gigs at the Hideout maybe we’ll finally be seen. Gonna focus on getting signed. Getting out of here.”
You love when Eddie gets like this. Talking about his dreams for Corroded Coffin. For his band.
“Leaving me so soon?” You nudge his foot with yours and he returns the gesture.
“I’m offended.” He clutches his chest yet again. “You think i’d let you stay here? No. Screw that, you’d be with us all the time.”
You can’t help but smile. “You are the sappiest metalhead I know. Nerdiest too.”
“Nerds have more fun.“ He winks at you. “And if im a sap so be it. You’re my best friend and you’re always here for me. We’re a package deal, sweetheart, no matter what.”
You grin. “No matter what.”
Best friends. A package deal. You and Eddie were and still are, inseparable. You swore that you’d always be there for each other no matter what, which is why Eddie’s disturbed today. He can’t stop thinking about how weird you were, how avoidant you behaved before leaving his apartment yesterday. He knew something was wrong but he didn’t want to pry. Not when there’s bigger things to focus on.
As you organize the cds, you try to focus on literally anything to get your mind off of Eddie. The ding of the door when a customer walks in, the sound of the Talking Heads from the store speakers, the annoying baby crying in his mother’s arms from the Fleetwood Mac section.
All you see is Eddie. His hair, his body, his face in those pictures. His lips so pink and arms so toned. Maybe he has been working out. Those jeans made his thighs looks so good, that slim waist.. you inly imagined how good his ass looked in them. And seeing him naked like that. His scarce happy trail leading down to his-
“Found it. Thought this broke ages ago but I can take it to Argyle’s buddy, see if he can check it out.” Jonathan says as he holds a half damaged amp from the break room.
“Looks good enough to sell. Did you check for any plugs?”
“No but im taking Robin and Steve to three different pawn shops so if we get a good deal just call.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you after.”
You head to the register to take up for Robin while she leaves. Selling the old amps and guitars, different things you don’t use anymore from the storage space next to the store. It’s an easy way to add cash to your current savings. You just hope it’s enough.
~~~~
Your shift is going nice. It’s an easy one. Monday’s usually are. Inventory is done, customers come and go and you enjoy your spot at the register, talking with different customers and introducing them to new music.
Chrissy walks up to the counter. “Hey, i’m taking lunch so Eddie’s gonna cover for me up here.”
Eddie. Just great. You hadn’t spoken to him since yesterday after seeing those pictures.
“Okay.”
She smirks and looks in the rock section. You think Eddie’s standing there but no, it’s someone else but still, someone familiar.
“That cute blonde guy’s back again.” She smiles and looks at you.
“He always comes on mondays.” You nod and shrug, not thinking much of him.
“I know. He flirts with you every monday.” She grins, with a suggestive look in her eyes.”
“Is it flirting if I don’t reciprocate?.”
“Yes.” She smiles. “Come on, you haven’t had a date since when?”
Since last October. You found him hooking up with some other girl, she looked nothing like you. And you honestly didn’t know if that hurt you more or relieved you.
“Give it a rest, chris. He’s a customer and I am not interested in some random guy-“
“Could I get one of those Springsteen pins?” He smiles, vinyls in hand and a cute grin on his face.
He’s got the cutest nose and blue eyes so captivating, the ocean would be jealous. Maybe it is. His beachy waves of blonde hang over his forehead a bit.
You grab the pin and grin as he sets his yinyls on the counter. Bruce Springsteen, Bon Jovi, Madonna, Aerosmith. Of course he gets Aerosmith, he always does.
“Madonna?” You raise your brow.
“It’s for my sister.” He’s quick to respond. “But I do love a good material girl.”
“Can’t argue with that.” You smile, ignoring how Chrissy’s been glancing at the both of you from the record player behind the counter.
“That’s a nice ring you got there.” He nods at the silver ring on your left middle finger, a dark onyx gem in the center.
“Thanks, was a gift.”
You remember turning 20, and the big party you all threw here in this very store. Steve walked you out for a surprise lunch and when you came back, everyone had party hats and hung streamers. The store closed earlier that day as you all shared cake and drinks.
Everyone gave you their gifts at the party but Eddie waited to drive you home to give you his gift. The ring looked so expensive and he explained he saved up for it for months. When he slid it onto your finger it just made since, it was perfect. And you looked into each other’s eyes. You still remember what he told you that night in the van. His voice.
“Excuse me.”
His voice.
“Shit.. sorry.”
You move to the side to let him reach under the counter. Sharpie. More vinyls to be shipped out. Chrissy steps back to let Eddie key into the register since he’s next to check out customers here.
You bag up the customer’s cds and he hands you his cash.
“Will this be all?” You ask the blonde guy.
“Yeah,” he nods and takes the bag and his change from you. “Actually um, I just wanted to ask if you were busy. Tomorrow.”
Chrissy looks at Eddie. Eddie looks at your foot. Your boot tapping against the rug. Nerves. And he feels them too.
“Um.. well, I have to work, so..”
“What time do you get off?”
“Seven.” You nod.
“How about I pick you up? Take you for dinner?” He smiles.
Suddenly Eddie hates the color blue, seeing how the guy’s eyes light up when you say..
“Sure.”
He smiles. “Well great. I will.. i’ll see you then,” he looks at your nametag then saying your name.
“I’ll see you then..”
He smiles. “Jessie.”
You grin. “Bye Jessie.”
He leaves and goes out the door. Chrissy decides to leave to avoid the awkward conversation she knows is about to take place. You focus on your register as the space behind the counter feels smaller. You’ve told yourself too many times that Eddie is just your best friend and he definitely doesn’t see you like that. If he did, he would’ve made a move, and he hasn’t made a move. You needed something. Anything, to get your mind off of the pictures of Eddie that you saw. If it was a date with Jessie then so be it.
After some silence you Eddie speaks up, his voice a bit relaxed. Too relaxed.
“Dating the Aerosmith guy?”
“I guess dinner would be nice.” You look at him and he hasn’t looked up from the clipboard as he writes down the packages he’s signed and boxed up.
“He pulled the push door again on his way out.” The corner of his mouth lifts a bit as that familiar smug smirk starts to form.
You grin. “What are you keeping tabs on him?”
He huffs out a small laugh and shakes his head, his messy curls falling with each movement. He whips his hair back to look at you this time.
“Maybe I should if he’s taking my best friend on a date.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. "Since when do you get all possessive?"
He leans against the counter, the smirk growing as he shrugs. "Since Aerosmith wannabes started sniffing around you."
You roll your eyes but the warmth rising in your cheeks betrays you. "It's just dinner, Eddie. And it's not like I need your approval."
He places a hand over his heart. "Approval? Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. But a warning? Absolutely."
You raise a brow, trying to read him. It’s a bit impossible to right now. "And what exactly are you warning me about?"
He taps the clipboard against the counter, thinking for a second before locking eyes with you. "Those guys always have an angle. Dinner leads to dessert, dessert leads to backstage passes and before you know it, you're a line in one of their breakup ballads."
You can’t help but to laugh. “Are you telling me Corroded Coffin has lines about girls in their ballads?”
He chuckles. “Did you see any girls lined up to talk to us?”
“Well, not really.” You bite your lip. “You really think Jessie’s like that?”
Hearing you say his name scars Eddie but he’s playing it cool. “Don’t know. Just looking out for you, someone has to.”
You meet his gaze with a playful challenge in your eyes. "And what if I don't need looking out for? What if I like the idea of being a song lyric?"
He leans in closer, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Then you're more reckless than I thought."
You swallow at the closeness and for a moment, the air between you changes. Charged and heavy like the static before a storm. His smirk falters for just a second, replaced by something softer, something... real. Something innocent. Those soft boyish features that hide how rowdy and chaotic he is.
A customer walks up to his register. He looks over your face and speaks lowly for only your ears. “Just be careful.”
He stands straight and greets the woman, ringing up her tapes and you swallow and stand in front of your register.
~~~~~
Tuesday. Four days until the first.
Steve managed to get a decent six hundred for a box of some of his old sneakers. Jonathan and Robin made four hundred and thirty seven dollars for the amps and an old acoustic guitar. You added the cash together from Hopper’s pile and the college dealings you and Eddie did on Sunday.
You sit in the break room, counting the cash as you hear a curse from the restroom.
You call out. “Are you okay?”
“Uh.. all good , sweetheart.”
The door’s cracked open so you take a break and walk over, walking in after he tells you to. You gasp, seeing he has scissors in his hand, his thumb bleeding as he sucks his wounded finger.
“What the hell are you doing?!” You quickly grab the scissors.
“Just a trim.” Eddie winces and reaches for the first aid kit.
You take out the bandages and shake your head. “To your bangs? You’ve actually lost your mind.”
He flips on the sink and washes his hands. Drying them and taking the bandaid from you. “Thanks mom, but I think i’ve got it.”
Your brows furrow. “But you always let me trim your hair.”
He shrugs and looks away. “Didn’t think you wanted to.”
You couldn’t blame him for how he felt. You just pull him to sit on the lid of the toilet seat and take out the scissors. He gives a small nod of surrender, letting you do as you please. You stand between his legs and get to trimming.
You speak softer. “I’m sorry I haven’t been more communicative.”
“You don’t need to apologize, princess. Just.. worried I made you upset or something.”
You raise a brow. “Why would I be upset?”
He looks up at you. “The party.”
Your eyes widen a bit. The college party? “What do you mean?”
He fiddles with the rips in his jeans a bit. “You really dont remember?”
He’s hesitant and that worries you a bit. “Eddie what happened?”
He speaks in a tone so low as if to save you embarrassment from each other. “You know, when you tried to kiss me.”
What?
“What?”
“When you had that smirnoff and we sold the last bag of K, you like.. grabbed my face and pulled me down.” He looks away.
“Oh I.. I didn’t know-“
“It’s okay. I know you were pretty drunk you had like ten of those things.” He sighs. “I guess I just.. when you tried to kiss me I kinda grabbed your hands and told you to stop. I thought you might’ve been pissed at me and left in a hurry on Sunday.”
You can’t believe yourself right now. Wanting to kiss Eddie? Hell yes. But making him feel like your behavior was his fault and not due to your own discovery? Not in a million years.
“No. Eddie I, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get handsy or weird. It’s just.. so much going on. I feel like shit.”
He looks up at you. “I don’t mind at all. I get you wanted to get drunk and forget about your worries for a bit. I just can’t stand the way things are right now.” You watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I miss you.”
You look back into his eyes. “I miss you too, Eddie.”
He sighs and stands up, pulling you into a hug in which you happily and quickly return. It feels good being this close to him. His hair tickling your skin, the warmth of his body, his scent. That scent.
He raises a brow when he feels your body tremble from holding in a laugh. “What?”
You laugh. “Blueberries and lemon mint!”
He laughs along with you. “Damn, I feel exposed princess. You’re being a bad friend.”
“You still use that same shampoo?”
“Hey it hasn’t failed me in the ten years that i’ve been using it and I plan on keeping it that way.” He points a finger at you so you point one back.
You grin, leaning closer as your finger playfully taps his. "Ten years, huh? That's commitment. You might be more loyal to that shampoo than anything else in your life."
He chuckles, dropping his hand but not stepping away from you. "Maybe. But hey if it smells good and works why change it?"
You tilt your head, your smile softening as you study him. “Fair enough.” You sit the scissors down as he rakes his fingers through his hair.
“You look really nice today.” He says a bit sheepishly.
You do. After all, you had a date tonight. You wanted to make an impression. Since you and Jessie agreed on a casual night out you wore a brand new pair of light wash jeans, the bootcut ones that show off your curves in the best way. Your pretty white notched Twisted Sister tee and your hair beautifully worn to your liking.
“Thanks. I mean, I didn’t wanna scare him away on the first date with a shit ton of eyeliner or some demonia’s.”
“If that scares any guy away then he’s blind.”
You smile, cheeks tinged with heat. “Thanks, Eddie.”
“Promise me if things get weird you’ll call me.”
“I promise.”
“Good.” He gives a small grin. “I would hate to show blondie the beast.”
“The beast?” You laugh. “Eddie, have you ever actually won a fight?”
He gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. "I'll have you know I almost won plenty of fights, thank you very much."
You laugh, shaking your head. "Almost doesn't count, Eddie."
He narrows his eyes playfully, leaning against the counter. "Alright princess, remind me never to count on you for moral support.” He straightens up a bit. “But seriously. If he does anything sketchy, call me. I'll be there in ten minutes. Fifteen if traffic sucks but i’ll be there.”
“Thanks, Eddie.” You grin.
He shrugs, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a half smile. "Anytime. Just don't forget about us regular folk when blondie sweeps you off your feet."
You roll your eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. No one's sweeping me anywhere.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
You lock eyes for a second. A warmth there that had been missing for a few days. So you almsot drunk kissed him and saw his pics, big whoop. If Eddie could move on from the avoidance so can you. The sweet moment is interrupted when Robin speaks over the intercom.
“Dingus needed at the register, the doors are now open.”
You both laugh.
“Duty calls,” he says, pushing off the counter and backing up to the door. "And remember, if he so much as looks at you wrong-"
"I know, I know," you interrupt with a laugh. "The beast will be unleashed."
"Damn right," he says, flashing you a grin before the door shuts behind him.
~~~~~
It was a nice day. No rude customers, your friendships were all good, and when you finished counting up the money you were closing in on having over five thousand. It’s only half, but it’s more than you started with before. But you promised yourself to focus on one thing tonight.
Jessie.
He’d taken you to a small bar with live music and then you grabbed dinner at the diner. You two got along well, talking rock music and careers. He was nice, a gentleman. He seemed pretty perfect. Too perfect. You two sit in the booth as you wait for dessert.
“I wanted to ask you something.” He sits up.
“Okay.”
He hesitates, not sure how to begin. But he does it anyways. “I come to the store a lot and well.. you dress differently a lot. I thought you were like some kind of goth or something.”
You smile. “Well I like goth music too but metal’s got my heart through and through.”
“Right but uh,” he shifts a bit in his seat and shrugs. “I mean you’re still normal to me, you know? Not like the rest of that crowd.”
You wait for the waitress to walk away after bringing your desserts. Jessie got cheesecake and you went for a milkshake per usual. Once she walks away you speak up.
“Rest of the crowd, huh?”
“Yeah. Like this really weird girl at my campus, she paints her face white and wears a bunch of pentagrams.” He hums and snaps. “And that one guy at Empire, with the messy hair? He’s got like some weird tattoos. I think one’s the devil-“
“It’s a horned demon from a board game.” You say softly, trying not to show how offended you feel.
“Yeah but, I don’t know. Just saying you’re not like them. At all.”
You stir your milkshake with the straw, forcing a tight smile as your stomach twists uncomfortably. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jessie leans back in his side of the booth, completely oblivious to your growing irritation. "I mean you're normal. You know, you don't go overboard with all that creepy goth stuff. You've got style, but you're not like... a freak." He laughs like he's made some kind of joke, but the sound grates against your nerves.
Freaks. What they called you and your friends in school. Years later and now on this date it all feels the same. So infuriating.
You put your milkshake down, suddenly finding it hard to look at him. "You know, some of us freaks actually like that 'creepy goth stuff," you say, trying to keep your tone light, though the edge in your voice betrays you.
Jessie raises an eyebrow. "Oh, come on. You know I didn't mean you. You're cool. But those people? They're just... weird. It's not normal."
You sit back on your end this time and cross your arms. “Define normal, Jessie. Because I'm pretty sure painting your face and having tattoos doesn't make someone less of a person."
He looks genuinely baffled, like he has no idea why you're upset. "I don't know, it's just... people like that are trying too hard, you know? Like they want attention or something. But not you, you're different."
"Sure," you say, your voice colder now. "I'm different because I tone it down for people like you, right?"
Jessie stares at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What? No! I just meant you're not... extreme like them."
You sigh and rub your temple. “Jessie I.. I should go.”
His brows furrow. “What?”
“Those freaks are my friends. The people I love and consider family. And i’m not gonna sit here and let you badmouth us because you can’t accept that not everyone is a conventional as little perfect Jessie.”
You slap a ten on the table for your meal and stand, walking away before he could say anything else. Assholes like Jessie and Larry get away with everything and you’ve had enough. You just wanted comfort. Someone who got you, someone who would never judge you, never disappoint you.
You think of the one person who’s always been there. Inserting a coin into the phone booth you call him.
~~~~~
“What a dick.” Eddie says, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his cigarette as he drives you in his van.
“It’s okay. Just.. glad that’s over.”
Eddie smirks. He figures you could use a laugh. “You know.. when he picked you up, we were being nice but the second he pulled of Robin thought it was a good idea to play Jessie’s Girl on the speakers.”
You laugh. “Oh i’m gonna kill her.”
“Kill Steve, he was really into it.” He chuckles and starts to dance. “He hit us with this move.” He wiggles his hips in his seat and shakes his shoulders.
You laugh. “You know what, you guys are so not funny.”
He smiles. “Sorry, princess. Can’t help but to tease you for going on a date with that goofball.”
"Yeah, yeah," you reply, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your grin. "You're all comedians. Real original."
Eddie chuckles again, flicking the ash from his cigarette out the window. "I mean come on princess, you can do better."
You lean back in your seat, crossing your arms "Oh, and who exactly should I be going out with? Got any suggestions, Munson?"
He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his smirk faltering just for a moment before returning full force. "I don't know, maybe someone who won't make Robin crank up Rick Springfield to cope."
You laugh again, shaking your head. "That's a pretty low bar."
"Exactly," he says, flashing you a cheeky grin.
"You deserve a guy who actually likes what you like. Someone cool. Someone, dare I say… metal." He emphasizes the word with a dramatic air guitar move, almost swerving the van in the process.
"Jesus, Eddie! Watch the road!" you yell, clutching the door for support.
He laughs, straightening the wheel. "Relax, princess. I got it under control. Besides, you're safe with me."
You give him a skeptical look, but his words linger in the air longer than you expected. Safe. Judgement free, laughing, smiling, safe with Eddie. There's something about the way he says it so casually but full of weight that makes your stomach flutter.
You clear your throat, looking out the window to avoid his gaze. "Well, maybe next time you can pick my date. Since you're such an expert on who I should be with."
He grins but doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes another drag of his cigarette, the soft glow of it illuminating his face from the night sky. "Maybe I will," he says finally, his tone teasing but with a silent edge you can't quite place.
You glance at him and raise a brow. "I'm not sure if I should be terrified or intrigued."
Eddie smirks, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music playing softly from the radio. "A little bit of both, princess. Keeps things interesting."
You shake your head, fighting the smile creeping onto your lips. "You're impossible."
"I prefer the term eccentric," he shoots back, flashing you another grin.
You smile, enjoying the ride and the music and Eddie. It’s how things have always been. How things should always be. Forget the shitty date and the corporate assholes that have been ruining your month. This moment here with Eddie is all you need to keep going.
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taglist: @pupwrites @sheneedsrocknroll92 @koshkahhh @kthomps914
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impinged · 13 hours ago
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One thing you're willing to share. Haha, well, if that's the case... Nothing comes to mind~!
That's a joke you don't voice. Again, not even all that funny either. You promised! You're going to answer!! What's a little internal commiserating before you do? It's healthy! Probably!
"One thing…" You echo, before a lap of frustration has you going, "Isa, there were hundreds—" Oh, that's not... You kind of just let that out, huh. Well, it's good thing you remember each one then! You do not tell him this. "But... Okay."
Urgh. Of course he would throw the question back at you. Suddenly, even if he says otherwise, one question doesn't feel very fair if you can only offer up one thing in return. You bury your face in the pillow while you contemplate. Argh, well played, Isabeau…!
Okay then. Good or bad. Well, you can say right away don't really want to talk about the bad. But something good feels too lighthearted given he clearly knows what happened. You rattle off a few frivolous things in your head, things you think barely satisfy such a question.
You told me about wanting to become a fashion designer! Did you know Odile wasn't really researching anything? We saw a ghost. You kept running straight into that blinding tear in the hallway and I had to pull you away. Okay definitely not that one. Ahem. Think harder, something has to be good enough…
"I'm allergic to pineapple." Despite its absurdity, you look up at him as if all the bones in your body are terribly serious. And they are. "Did we know that?? Did I ever mention that...??? Bonnie brought pineapple slices for snacks. And I..."
Well actually you don't have to say that part he probably gets it!!! You shake your head and sputter out an apology. This doesn't count. This is just something he should probably know to make sure it doesn't happen again (they were kind of good before they killed you!) A tangent to distract him from the real answer when you get to it. Very intended.
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"Sorry, that's... not my answer. I'm thinking..." Let's see... We built a bomb to throw at the King, and we did, and yes it felt just as cool as you can imagine it did... Oh! You met the Change God...? Ehh, maybe not that one. Yet. Um...
"You took me to see the stars, the night before we left for the House." Huh? Oh, yeah. Well, this one is nice, but, you didn't really mean to say it out loud. What is with you? You keep slipping up! Saying things you're supposed to think!!!
You suppose it works though. If anything, it brings it full circle. He mentioned it earlier too, didn't he? Although the way he phrased it made it sound like it was your offer, but you definitely remember it being something he did for you.
"It, uh... It happened a few times. The same time. Just, during different loops." Stars this is a pain to describe. You still remember how you felt the first time, and start to regret how jaded you felt on repeated events. He didn't know. Does now, but you won't tell him it meant any less as it continued... You don't like thinking about it like that, actually. It meant and means a lot still. No matter how your overall circumstance made you feel. No matter the repetition.
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"It was nice." Your grip on the pillow tightens. You don't know if you should say anything more. It feels like cheating. Just saying the joke at the tree here earlier felt like cheating. But it suffices as an answer, right? No follow up questions, right? Would you even allow those...? Uh... No comment.
"oh!" his laughter clipped and unsure (stunning performance, sif; bonkers timing, though!), squeezing his pillow like a lifeline trying to muffle the drum in his chest, "looks like we want the same thing, then. me staying, that is. yay us!"
alright, isabeau, he moved on! you should, too! stop making it weird.
so he does! slowly, fluffing the cushion before he sinks into it. while sif's eye is elsewhere, he takes the opportunity to study them again. an accident at first, but he lingers in silent, wistful appreciation... up until he outlines their discomfort and the blanket becomes a lot more visually inviting by comparison.
he nearly jolts, agape, "you will...? o-of course, that's more than okay."
one question... that's a toughie! deep in thought, he looks down to the hand between them, nail-painted fingers slightly curled, still experiencing the little phantom memory of sif-- how nice it felt to hold them steady, like he would've with mira or bonnie.
and the absence of feeling when he pulled away, scathed, all because isabeau overstepped, well-intentioned or not.
his skin burns suddenly, but he tries not to show it. just chock the subtle wince up to him thinking suuuper hard!
'thennn, are you free tomorrow?' he almost blurts. it's unexpected! silly! and... a bad idea if he wants sif to confide in him. there's plenty he could ask: 'why'd you go into dormont's House alone?,' 'why didn't you tell us?', 'was there anything i could've done to help?,' 'would you have let me help?,' 'please let me help'--
oops. not a question. still wants to say it, though, the way it lodges in his throat; forces him to squeeze his tired eyes before he reopens them with an equally tired smile.
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"i'm lost on how it all works, but... mm... tell me something that happened during the loops? whatever you feel like, big or small! good or bad," assuming there was anything good. he points for languid emphasis, "one thing you're willing to share with your pal isa. you set the starting point for later!"
that's the intent, anyway. a start. open-ended to offer as much, or little, as sif wants! isabeau can't be too direct (not yet). can't overwhelm him, like before! can't send him into another spiral, because that slope's really crabbing slippery! with good reason!
if only there was a magic question that'd clear things up now, before it worsens (how? he doesn't want to know, but the suggestion churns his insides). it feels impossibly out of reach (they're out of reach), but... he wants to get there. trying to.
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gayfranzkafka · 2 months ago
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btw Elliot Kalan--a man I literally only knew from his annoying 30 second ads for his podcast that I never wanted to listen to--took over writing the ongoing Harley Quinn series from Tini Howard, who had been writing one of my favorite runs of Harley's of all time. Imagine if one of YOUR favorite canonically bi female characters went from the hands of a bi woman writer who was doing a great job to being placed in the hands of a straight male podcaster you'd barely even heard of and also in the first issue of his comic she tells you she won't be able to see her girlfriend for an unknown amount of time for contrived plot reasons [one thousand skull emojis here]
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i-really-like-phrogs · 1 year ago
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HAPPY NEW YEAR GRRRAAAAHHH
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Everything I see you on my dash you just send such a nice wave of positivity and kindness and I love it so much!!!
Stay weird!! 💛💙💛💙
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you! What a fantastical New Years surprise 🥺💕 Your message left me positively aglow! ✨ (Or phosphorescent, considering my green and amphibious little pseudonym…)
I am so grateful that you find my blog to be a positive space! It delights me that I inhabit a corner of the internet that seems to attract such kind and awesome people such as you!
Have a very, very happy New Year! Hopes and wishes that 2024 entails awesome things and opportunities for growth!
Since you’re looking a little fuzzy, I hope you’ll accept a little femur-shaped treat on your way out. —Ooh, take a sparkler too! (You be careful with it now, ya hear? We don’t do hospital trips on this blog!)
Stay Safe, Stay warm, let’s make this a great year!
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ghostsprincess · 3 months ago
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I can't stop thinking about Ghost being a better boyfriend than your ex, even without establishing that title....
This is a continuation of part one.
warning: mention domestic abuse
💀
Simon was there every night you worked. You never gave him your schedule, but he'd show up and settle onto one of the stools like clockwork. Soap often joined him, and while they carried on like always, you knew Simon's gaze lingered on your body. You could practically feel the weight as you took drink orders and pulled pints. It wasn't unwelcome. In fact, it made everything easier knowing you weren't alone if your ex dared show his face.
When your shifts ended, Simon would walk you back to your new place. The one time you insisted he didn't need to do that, he grunted and said, "What if I want to?"
You didn't mention it again. Instead you got into a routine of giving him a fifteen minute warning when your shift was going to end, and you'd head out into the cold night with him at your side. He was mostly quiet while you chatted about whatever was on your mind. When you'd ask him about himself, he'd reroute the conversation back to you. Then he would wait while you unlocked your door and stepped inside.
You always had the urge to invite him in, but you were taking up so much of his time already. And what would you do with him anyway? This hulking military man with kind eyes? 
You thanked him and gave him a little wave before ducking inside, and you knew he always waited until he heard the sound of your door locking before he left. 
"Y' alright, love?" he asked one night when you were starting to feel particularly good about yourself again. Your split lip had healed which required less makeup. You felt stronger for having left your ex in the dust. You were wearing a new top that made you feel sexy.
"Yeah. I'm alright, Simon. I feel really good, actually."
You served him a drink and refused to let him pay. You really ought to make him stop tipping you at this rate. He was doing so much for you and getting nothing in return. He was doing all of the boyfriend duties just as he had promised, but he never so much as touched you other than the occasional hand hold.
What if you wanted more?
He broke into your thoughts as he said, "I can tell. Ya' been smiling more. Almost ready to go?"
Tonight you felt like you were floating along the dirty sidewalk with your hand tucked in Simon's massive paw. He was keeping you warm without doing anything, and he listened to your nervous rambling as you tried your best to work up your courage. But the two of you reached your front door all too quickly.
"Get inside," he said, voice deep and tender in spite of the command. "An' lock up."
When he started to pull his hand away, you didn't let him. And you didn't budge when one of his eyebrows inched higher. "Not quite yet," you whispered, toe tapping the cement step you were standing on which put you slightly closer to him in height. "I have to tell you something."
Simon's lips pressed together in a tight line, and his chin dipped in a slight nod. "I need to tell ya' something, too. Just don't want to."
"What?" you asked immediately, the lightness you'd been feeling instantly replaced with a lead brick inside you.
"I'm leaving. Late tomorrow night. Not until after I make sure ya' get home from the pub."
"Leaving?" you whispered, heart pounding faster. He was in the military. Some sort of special mission involvement. You knew that much. And you could read between the lines to know that someone who looked and behaved like he did was probably about to risk his life, not for the first time. "Simon, where are you going?" you asked with tears in your eyes even though you figured he wouldn't be able to tell you.
Simon shook his head, his lips curling into a soft smile. It was a rare sight, and it made you dizzy. "Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be worried 'bout me." You wanted to tell him you would be. You'd worry nonstop until you saw him again. You'd come to rely on him, but mostly you liked how you felt when he was around. "There'll be someone to walk ya' home from work every night. I can promise that."
You wanted to lean in and kiss him, but instead you threw your arms around his neck. He was so solid and warm, and the scrape of his facial hair on your cheek was somehow comforting. "But I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you asked, voice breaking on a sob.
"I'll see ya' tomorrow, love."
He didn't move an inch as you extracted yourself, and the sound of his receding footsteps could only be heard once you'd locked yourself inside.
💀
Part three
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hencheri · 5 months ago
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18+. mdni.
just thinking about jaehyun having the sweetest, loveliest girlfriend ever and not being able to hold himself back from corrupting her and fucking the shit out of her <3
.
bf!jaehyun loving the little gifts you craft for him, giving him love letters every other day, carefully put in pink envelopes and wrapped in ribbons of the same colour. he was surprised the first time you wrote him one, but he of course rapidly got fond of it.
jaehyun just loves that you love him and it makes him love you even more. however, his way of showing it is surely a little... unorthodox, treating you with his mouth on your cunt, or his favourite; making you squirt on his cock.
bf!jaehyun who lets you do his skincare, straddling his lap while he's sitting down on your bed. he swears he won't mess with you and that his hands will stay steady on your hips. you apply your best products to his skin, massaging his face as he has his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of your fingers on him.
but jaehyun never keeps his promises for too long, and his hand travels underneath your little sailor moon night shorts, rubbing your sensitive pussy until you give up and hump his palm desperately.
bf!jaehyun who is so pussy whipped the very first moment he meets you, learning all the names of your sanrio plushies right after he fucked you silly on his cock.
bf!jaehyun shopping with you, following you into every store you see, smiling when you squeal at all the cute stuff you set eyes on. he tells you to put everything in the cart, "i'll pay, take anything that you want, baby", and you thank him a million times. you make him smell all the body wash and body scrub products that you pick up, asking him "d'you like it?" and of course he always says yes, which makes you smile happily in return.
bf!jaehyun who always pulls you onto his lap, running his hands up and down your thighs while you give him kiss after kiss until he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks together, "do you think you deserve my cock?" being his favourite thing to ask. you inevitably answer yes, jaehyun replying with "how so?" and you tell him what he wants to hear; "because i was a good girl, daddy". he grins, "that's right, baby. my good girl." after, all that manages to come out of your mouth are cries of his name, eyes glossy and lips swollen, jaehyun's cock shoved deep in your little pussy for the rest of the night.
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badbtssmut · 6 months ago
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Magic Stick
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Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset
Admin note: idea by anon
Contains: Big dick JK, handjob, some boobplay, missionary, riding, reader expresses that she is uncertain if it will fit, it takes some time getting it fully in ;), reader whimpers a bit, JK’s ex cheated on him, jk cums a lot
“What’s wrong with you?” You glanced over to your best friend, he has been in a horrible mood for a week and no one knew why. Not even your mutual friends knew what was up with Jungkook.
”It’s nothing.” He mumbled in response.
“Come on, I can tell something is bothering you.” You pushed.
"Fine. My girlfriend broke up with me.” He finally cracked.
"Wait, what?” You stood from the dining table, and inched closer to Jungkook who was sitting on the sofa. “Why’d she do that?" You question, shocked by the sudden news. "You two seemed so happy. What happened?"
"She… she was cheating on me.” He confessed.
"Are you fucking kidding me? What a bitch." You really couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“Don’t blame her, I guess.” Jungkook said and shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't be silly. You’re too forgiving." You sighed.
"It's not that. The sex, my size— it just never worked out in bed. It was never a good fit." Jungkook confessed, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"So, you're saying, she dumped you ‘cause of your dick size? The fuck? That's just shallow. Why would she do that?" You sat next to him.
"Yeah, it didn’t fit, literally. I’d hurt her, it wasn’t going to work out from the start. We tried a few times, but the whole experience was just awful. I guess she couldn't stand it anymore." He said, defeated.
“That doesn't make any sense, surely you aren’t that big? Are you sure she’s not just making excuses?” You couldn’t believe his ex would end things with him over his size.
"No, I am that big." Jungkook replied.
"Really?" You were skeptical.
"I've always had a big dick." He added.
"Show me."
"What?"
"Show me." You repeated. “I just want to know if you’re bullshitting or not.”
"No." He declined, looking at you as if you said the most ridiculous thing ever, clearly embarrassed by your request.
"Oh, come oooon, we are best friends. It’s not like I’ve never seen a dick before in my life." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to judge you, I promise. Just let me see."
"Fine." Jungkook sighed. "But… I’m not hard now.” He muttered.
“Will my boobs make you hard?“
“Hell yeah. You got great tits." He said, a bit too enthusiastic, as if he had been dreaming of the day you’d offer your tits in return to see his cock. You stood right in front of him, loosening the straps of your halter top. His mouth was slightly open, as he looked at you, completely mesmerized. You removed the straps from your shoulders and let the shirt fall to your tummy, revealing your breasts.
"Like what you see?" You teased.
"Yeah. Very much." He was nearly drooling at the sight.
"Want to touch them?"
"Fuck, yeah." He nodded, eager. You stepped closer and his hands were instantly on you. Squeezing your breasts, rubbing his thumbs on your nipples, taking it all in. When he was done caressing your tits with his hands, he started to suck and lick on them, at which you moaned softly, and the sound of it made him rock hard. He was definitely huge, you could see the tent forming on his pants.
"Are you sure you want to see it? It's… quite big." He was almost apologetic, as if his huge dick was some sort of inconvenience for others.
“I do, show me already.” You chuckled, not sure what he was being shy for.
"Okay." He nodded, unbuckling his belt, and lowering his jeans, together with his boxers.
Holy shit.
How was a dick that big even possible? You didn't even think that dicks like that actually existed. And it wasn't just long, but also thick. No wonder his ex broke up with him. You were pretty sure that dick wouldn't fit anywhere.
"Wow." You couldn't believe your eyes.
"Told you. It's big. You wouldn’t believe me." He shrugged.
"Can I touch it?" You asked, still unable to avert your eyes.
"If you want." He agreed, a little surprised but not put off by the idea.
You grabbed his dick and slowly moved your hand up and down his length, marveling at how big and heavy it was, how thick. His cock was truly impressive, and it seemed to get even bigger as you stroked him. You wondered what it would be like to take him.
“Wow. This is amazing. How can you fit this inside a girl?" You were truly impressed, and couldn't help but keep stroking his cock.
"I can't." He admitted, his breathing starting to quicken. “No girl can take it, they always start out confident but when it’s actually in… they can't take it. Not even halfway through. I have never met a girl that can take me all the way, even the ones that brag about having experience are not able to." He sounded dejected.
"I bet I can." You challenged him.
"No. You can't. There's no way." He scoffed. All of the girls said the exact same thing, and it never worked out, ever.
“Want to bet? If I can’t take it, I’ll give you 200 bucks.” You said, not convinced by his pessimism.
"200 dollars? That's a lot of money." He said, surprised by your proposal, but he shrugged. “But alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
"Are you sure about this?" He asked, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
“If you ask me one more time… I will leave." You said, annoyed.
"Sorry. Just don’t want to hurt you." He apologized with a defeated sigh. It made you feel bad for getting annoyed, but Jungkook really had nothing to worry about.
You got this.
Jungkook held onto his cock as he pushed the head of it against your slick pussy lips. Your body tensed a bit, but he took his time, working on you slowly. You breathed deeply and relaxed, spreading your legs further as his shaft dragged against your sensitive skin. His cock was so hard and thick that it rubbed against every single inch of your folds.
Jungkook continued to move his hips back and forth, his errection dragging against your clit with each thrust. The sensation was amazing, and your body was trembling in pleasure, and he wasn’t even in yet.
The tip poked against your lower belly as he continued to rub the shaft against your pussy, his hips moving slow and steady.
“Want it.” You whined.
“Yeah?” He whispered.
"Yeah."
He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing the head against it. You tilted your head back, fuck, that was only the head, how could you feel this full already?
Jungkook began to slide his cock into your wet, aching pussy. His cock was stretching you out so wide, it felt incredible. He stopped when the head was all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust. Jungkook slowly pushed his cock deeper inside you, inch by inch. You could feel his cock filling up every inch of you, the stretch and pressure so intense, it was almost too much.
"Shit, you’re stretching me so good…” You moaned, as his cock kept going deeper.
"How are you taking it so well? I can't believe you can take it this far, pussy takes big cock so good, baby." He pushed in more, eager to fill you with every inch.
You couldn't speak, the sensations were overwhelming. It felt like your pussy was being stretched to its limits, and there was a pressure deep inside you that made your mind go blank.
Jungkook's cock was buried all the way inside you now. You were filled up completely, and it was the most amazing feeling you'd ever experienced.
"Don’t move,” It felt as if he would rip you in two if he pulled out even a little bit. "Not yet. Give me a minute." You whimpered, as you adjusted to his length and girth.
Jungkook nodded, kissing your neck, his hands cupping your breasts.
“This is how pussy feels, huh? Fuck, this is amazing. So tight, warm, perfect." He whispered against your ear, as he kept his dick deep inside. “It’s like my cock is being choked and squeezed, so good.”
“Told you… I could take it.” You said in a shaky breath, sitting up only to peek at where your bodies were joined, impressed to see how your body managed to take that monster cock in.
“You can move now." You gave him permission.
Jungkook started to move his hips back and forth.
The pressure from his dick was too intense, it felt like you were being split open, and you thought you were going to pass out from how good it felt. You held in your breath, unable to moan as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cock stretching you wide.
Whereas you were silent, Jungkook was grunting, groaning, panting, moaning, he couldn’t contain his pleasure. Jungkook was overwhelmed by the feeling of being buried deep inside you. His thrusts were slow and deep, his cock pushing against your inner walls, massaging them.
You opened your eyes and glanced at his face, he looked like he was in ecstasy, his mouth was open and he was moaning with every thrust.
His cock felt incredible, so big, so deep.
You had never felt anything like it before.
"I can't believe I'm fucking a pussy that can take my whole cock. Shit, it feels amazing. Pussy is so tight and wet. So fucking good. Never felt anything like it. Fuck!” Jungkook licked his bottom lip, picking up the pace.
Jungkook was pounding you now, his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, hitting all the right spots. Fuck, you were seeing stars, your whole body was on fire.
You couldn't stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. You spread your legs as far as you possible could, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you. Jungkook continued his relentless rhythm, his thrusts were hard and fast, the sounds of his cock slamming into your pussy filled the room.
The feeling of his dick filling you up was indescribable, it was pure bliss.
“Want to ride you, want to sit on that cock." You needed to feel in control, and you wanted him to watch you as you sat on his massive dick.
Jungkook pulled out and laid down on the bed, his dick standing straight up, and you couldn’t wait to take it all again.
You straddled his hips, hovering above his erection and you slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock, gasping as it slid into you, the pressure and friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.
Jungkook's hands were on your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock. He was thrusting his hips upward, matching your rhythm, driving his dick even deeper into you.
"God, you look so hot riding my cock. Never would’ve thought to see this.” He bit his lip, his eyes roaming over your body.
"So big…” All you could think of was how his cock felt inside of you, how shallow it might sound… you couldn’t even think of the person attached to it.
Jungkook was now holding onto your hips, pulling you down harder onto his dick. His thrusts were strong, and fast, and it felt so fucking good.
"Fuck, I can't last any longer. Gonna cum soon." His thrusts became erratic and he was moaning loudly, his whole body shaking. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him, trying to match his rhythm.
"Y/N… like that, love it just like that." He moaned, his breathing unsteady, his fingers now gripping into your thighs.
“Yes, yes…” You whispered, riding his cock, feeling your own orgasm build up inside of you.
“Ah!” Jungkook beat you to it, his body stiffened as his cum spurted inside of you, filling you up. He was gasping for air, his face was flushed, and his grip on your hips loosened, he ran his fingers through his hair as he squirted his cum deep inside of you. It was as if he had a never ending supply of cum, shooting spurt after spurt, his cock throbbing as it emptied its load inside you.
“Keep going, y/n, you didn’t come yet, I’ll stay hard, take what you need, keep going." He encouraged, his breathing still shaky, his dick was still hard, and it was pulsating inside you.
"Yeah." You whispered, continuing to bounce on his dick, the feeling of his cum inside of you and the sight of him beneath you, sweaty, breathing hard, his hair sticking to his forehead, was so incredibly sexy. The sound of your drenched in cum pussy sucking him back in was loud, his cock coated in your juices and the cum that was spilling out of you was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
You leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs as you moved up and down, faster, deeper, until you were finally climaxing, your orgasm taking over your body. Your body shook and your eyes fluttered open and shut as the warmth spread through your whole body, you had never felt anything like it before. You could feel the hot cum leaking out of you, and it just kept coming.
Your hips slowed as you rode out your orgasm, and when it was over, you collapsed onto the bed, panting.
“Jungkook?”
“Yeah?”
“You owe me 200 bucks.”
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a-b-riddle · 9 months ago
Text
Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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yanderenightmare · 7 months ago
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part one
TW: nsfw, dubcon, blackmail
fem reader
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As promised, you receive the pictures in the mail while the payment is forwarded almost emmidiatly. You don’t know which makes you gawk more, the photos of you or the numbers.
You also get an email—an invitation. The photographer is asking you to dinner. Or, asking is putting it nicely—which he most certainly didn’t. It’s phrased like a notice from your boss—matter-of-factly, he’s picking you up at eight, wear something nice.
You think about declining, but then you think about your friend again and how you don’t want to cause her any trouble. A free dinner isn’t really all that bad, is it?
It’s worse, actually.
“You should have told me you didn’t have anything to wear. I would have lent you something,” is the first thing he says when you get in his car. He hadn’t opened the door for you or anything, just sat in the driver’s seat waiting.
And though your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you think you’re foolish for it. You hadn't really dressed to impress him, after all—something you might as well tell him, “Maybe I just didn’t feel like dressing up. You didn’t exactly leave a good impression last time we met, so I don’t believe I owe you anything.”
He scoffs with a grin—face turned towards the road as he starts driving. “You have a lot more bite without your friend.”
“She has too much respect for you.” You cross your arms and look out the window. 
“That’s for sure.” You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t offer any more of a response. You’re glad to spend the rest of the drive in silence.
You feel underdressed at the restaurant. You hadn’t thought he’d take you somewhere so nice. Most of the other couples there are dressed as if for a gala, while you’re dressed as if you’re going to an office party.
He hasn’t tried too hard himself. But still, he fits in—fat watch on his wrist, kempt hair, neat shoes, dress trousers, and a silk shirt with one too many buttons undone—a nauseating skinny chain beneath the collar as well as the hint of a chest tattoo. You bet it’s one of those dumb tribal inks, probably with some mundane Japanese characters he doesn’t know the meaning of.
“Is this where you undermine all the models desperate for your recognition?” you sigh as you sit down.
“We haven't even gotten our menus, and you’re already causing a scene?” 
He’s the one who was rude the moment you got in the car. In fact, he was rude the minute you met him. “Might as well speed this along.”
He chuckles—his smile genuinely amused instead of angered the way you’d imagined—the way you’d remembered from last time when he sent girls crying. “You know, for a face like that, you have one hell of a tongue.”
He orders wine by the name with ease and swiftness before returning to what he was saying.
“I like that. Most models are dull, but not you.”
“I don’t agree. And I’m a model,” you snip, showing no interest in his flirting.
 “No? Didn’t you see the pictures?” Your attitude doesn’t seem to deter him—rather, it only seems to egg him further on. “I have them all mounted on my walls at home—you should come see.”
This makes you falter. Looking at him from across the table with rounded eyes. “On your walls?”
“Framed.” He smiles, finally having broken through—he only intends to take it further. Not that what he was saying wasn’t true. “I just couldn’t help myself. I consider it my best work.” 
The look on your face is something between disgusted and uncertain—speechless in a sense.
It makes him laugh again. “Does anything flatter you?”
The wine comes. He’s poured a glass for testing.
“Not when spoken by men like you.”
His grin grows as he swirls the liquid around, smelling it like a phony.
“That’s a shame,” he says before taking a sip. He nods to the waiter, and you’re poured a similar glass. Meanwhile, he looks at you. “I’d like to flatter you—I’d like to spoil you even. You seem like you deserve it.”
You sip your glass. “No need.”
“I’m not so sure about that. You currently work at a diner, right?”
You gaze at him from atop your glass, brows furrowing. “How do you—”
“I didn’t.” It’s a lie, of course, he’d searched you up and gone over every little detail he could find. “It’s clear from the looks of you—”
“Fuck you,” you snap, putting your glass down a bit too harshly, enough to make a little wine slip and spill.
He doesn’t mind it. “Oh, I want you to,” he says instead. “After I pay for dinner and drive you back. We can fuck right under my favorite portrait of you.”
You’re stunted by his crude words, but only for a second. “How about we skip dinner, and you go fuck yourself.” 
His smile doesn’t drop, even as you get up to leave. “Settle down, sweetheart.”
“Make me, jackass.” 
You’re on your way to go, but his next words have you halting. 
“Either you humor me, or I make sure your friend never models in the country again.”
You turn around to look at him. You don’t really know why you’re so surprised. The card he just pulled is the very reason you agreed to the dinner in the first place. But an incentive is very different from outright blackmail, and suppose you just hadn’t really believed he’d take it that far.
“It’s my impression you don’t want that,” he continues.
You sit back down. He tops your glass off.
“I could make her big, you know?” he offers while pouring for himself as well. “Really speed her career along—set her up for life. I’ll do the same for you, too, of course.” 
He swirls his wine, lifting it as if to make a toast.
“And all you gotta do is come back home with me.”
You don’t have the words.
“You won’t be disappointed,” he promises. “I’m good at it.” As if that’s your concern. “You’ll never want to fuck anyone else again.”
You hate how right he is. 
You’ve never cum sooner or harder before in your life, not with anyone else or on your own. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced—so good, you’re screaming—moaning out in echoes throughout his giant penthouse, bouncing off the marble floors into all unlocked rooms, creating a cacophony of your undeniable pleasure.
He’s on his knees beneath you as you lean with your back against the window overlooking the city, barely able to stand as he buries his face between your soft thighs, canting his chin up while lapping hard at your slit and clit. His hard stare set on your face and the way you throw your head back while cumming in his mouth—your hand tussled in his hair, yanking on it hard enough to make him growl.
Your legs and feet give you little support. It's his hands that keep you up as you slide further and further down the floor-to-ceiling window until you’re almost about ready to drop your weight completely.
But he’s made you come undone three times by then, and just can’t wait any longer. 
He’s spun you around before you know it, making you face the pretty lights of the city skyline—his mouth hot on the shell of your ear, “I told you so, didn’t I?”
Your breath fogs the glass with your panting—knees wobbly, only standing thanks to the thick arms he’s got supporting you, each with a tit in their hand, giving them rough squeezes as he starts pounding away at your womb—hard enough to make the city lights blend in with the stars. 
“You won’t wanna fuck anyone else again.”
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♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Aizawa, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Oikawa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin ♡ AOT – Levi ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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hotsexyemogirl77 · 3 months ago
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╭──────────── ╰─➛✎﹏ | nsfw headcanons ! .°• ੈ♡₊˚•.
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incl. jeff the killer, ticci toby, masky, hoodie, eyeless jack, ben drowned
18+ | minors dni
❦.♱ʚ♡ɞ♱❦
jeff the killer
" you look so pretty wrapped around my cock. you're such a whore for me, i'm gonna fuck you dumb "
-filthy mouth ,,, he's so graphic in bed
-always lets you know how good you feel around him <3
-he loooves watching your face
-his favourite position is definitely either missionary or when you ride him
-he loves face fucking i'm sorry he loves watching you take all of him
-likes watching you cough and tear up too
- big on degrading
-he loves edging either you're doing it
to him or he's doing it to you he goes crazy for it
-mean and dominate but he will never deny you pleasure
-you'd have to beg for it first though
-loves finishing on your face and chest
-loves being noisy he does NOT care if anybody hears you two
ticci toby
" fuuck, keep clenching around me like that, i promise i'm gonna fill you up so good just give me one more ok ¿ "
- he wants to be a dad sooooo bad (he wants to see you pregnant with his seed)
- crazy stamina he's at LEAST going 2 LONG rounds
- munch ™ but he likes loves to be all up in there. like All over down there
- very messy
- loves the idea of his and your fluids mixing together
- speaking of, he loves hearing the slick sticky sounds from them mixing
- lowkey kinda sick LMAO
- doesn't know where to keep his hands he's all over you
- he loves finishing down your throat or inside you (if you'll let him of course)
- his favourite position is doggy or reverse cowgirl
- switch dom leaning for sure
masky
" shut your mouth or i'll give you something to shut it with, i wont be bothered to be nice either about it sweetheart "
- if you think jeff was mean you have another thing coming honey </3
- big sadist
- wether him marking you up or him spanking you he's doing it all
- he especially likes spanking your ass
- he like seeing you in any position where he's in control
- likes spitting
- doesn't matter if you spit on him or vice versa he's into it
- hard dom loves seeing you so helpless for him
- likes seeing you cry or tear up
- likes the idea of handcuffs in bed
- rough and mean for sure but he knows when he's taking it too far
hoodie
" such a pretty thing for me, im sorry for being so mean you just look so good begging for me down there "
- likes head a little too much
- loves to see you begging or yknow, just on your knees for him
- sooo cocky
- he likes any position he can see your face in he has no preference for it
- likes gagging you but he rewards you for being such a doll about it <3
- he likes receiving more than giving but he likes seeing his partner happy
- he will do it because he likes returning the favour (he likes when you pull his hair)
- lowkey a masochist but he won't say it out loud
- he likes being bitten, marked up ect
- likes seeing your expressions while fucking, his favourite is when he first slips it in
- and when your eyes shut or roll back during it
- hard/service dom
eyeless jack
" look at you, so needy for me, if you ask nicely i'll give you what you want and more"
- loves the every sound you make
- every moan, whimper, cry ect
- big on telling him yourself what you want from him
- he gets a power trip from it
- doesn't make much sound aside from talking
- grunting, growling and heavy breather
- LOVES 69-ing and missionary
- loves marking you up either from hickeys or bite marks
- especially in places others can see them too
- likes keeping his hands your hips
- loves setting the pace
- service top/dom
ben drowned
" fuck yeah just like that angel, please don't stop you feel so good around me like that "
- switch sub leaning
- LOVES when you're on top
- whimpering ,,, and whining ,,
- he like cumming either anywhere on you or down your throat
- he begs a lot without having to ask
- very very eager to please you
- despite all that he can have his more dominate moments too
- loves doggy or literally just bending you over his desk
- LOVES LOVES LOVES biting, scratching, hickeys ect
- goes crazy when it's happening either way tbh
- loses it when you pull his hair it gets him so hard so fast
- likes to tell you how good you feel and are and vice versa call him a good boy
- loves under the desk support
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theosbaby · 5 months ago
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Brother’s best friend!theodore smut please!! Super soft!dom Theo where he makes LOVE to reader. Perhaps shy!reader as well??
thank you so much for your request! i really loved this idea. i'm sorry that it took me so long to write this, but i've running low of inspiration lately. i hope you like it babe!
𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ casually thinking about...
brother's bsf!theo taking your virginity
NSFW content ahead, +18
you can't believe you're actually making out with the theodore nott, sprawled on your brother's bed with theo between your spread thighs. his lips are avidly kissing yours, playful tongue delving inside your warm mouth as his hands roam over your gorgeous curves, fingers gripping your sides to tug you as closer to him as possible, not leaving even an inch between your bodies.
and you swear you're on cloud nine.
you're whimpering so prettily into his mouth, your body arching against his while you grasp his dark t-shirt between your slender fingers, the sweet flavor of your chocolate birthday cake still lingering on your plump lips as you return the messy kiss with equal fervour. the act is almost sinful —you're mattheo's little sister, for god's sake. not that he cares about it right now, anyways, not when your body molds itself so perfectly to his, like you were made for each other.
theo groans into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your backside to hoist you up against him. you gasp against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist, and you feel him grinding against the junction of your thighs, his own breath hitching as he feels your warmth through his jeans.
your pretty cheeks flush at the intimate contact between your heated bodies, your lips becoming sloppier as you struggle to keep up with him. this is the first time you're actually making out with a guy like this, and you're feeling embarrassed, nervous and excited all at once, which is kinda overwhelming.
he'd notice how your body slightly tenses beneath him. not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, he slides his hands back to your hips to give them a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure you. he doesn't want to rush you if you're not ready —but oh how bad he wants to fuck you.
the kiss comes to an end, leaving you panting against his swollen lips, agitated. the way you find his deep set, blue eyes looking down at you when you open yours, makes you feel weak on your knees, the blush on your face deepening. he gives you a lopsided smile, his eyes glazed with lust as he brushes your long, soft hair out of your beautiful face.
"you okay, pretty girl ?" he'd ask, his voice husky, just to make sure you're not regretting what's happening. "are you enjoying this?"
the pet name he gives you makes you smile. "yeah," you whisper coyly in response, nodding slightly while your pearly white teeth sink into your bottom lip, which is a bit swollen from all the kissing.
"good," he murmurs against your mouth, "because i'm really enjoying it too." he pauses, his breath warm against your lips. "i was thinking maybe we could... you know... take things a little further?" he leans in and starts kissing your neck softly. "would you like that?
your heart starts hammering in your chest at his words, butterflies fluttering about crazily in your tummy, but you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your throat despite your nervousness.
"we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?" he reassures you softly, his hands squeezing your waist soothingly.
he continues planting gentle kisses on your neck, feeling you relax little by little against him. you let out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut.
"i wanna do it," you admit, not being able to look into his eyes as you do, blushing, "just... don't tell anyone about this, my brother can't know."
you feel him smirking against your throat as he stops the gentle kisses, cupping your face to make you look at him; there's sincerity in his eyes as he says, "i won't, pretty girl."
"pinky promise?"
you'd extend your pinky, waiting for him to intertwine his finger with yours. theo smirks as he tenderly rubs the tip of his nose against your cheek, and he tangles his pinky with yours. "i promise."
he keeps kissing you for a bit more, caressing you over your clothes and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, before he starts undressing you with such care, as if he's afraid of breaking you. and you look so pretty while you're naked beneath him, just like a precious doll.
then, he'd spread your creamy thighs and ask for permission to touch you, eager to get his hands on that gorgeous pussy of yours, which is fucking soaked just for him, your juices dripping down your pink slit and onto mattheo's sheets —that fact has him painfully hard inside his pants. is he a perv? probably.
he's taking his time preparing you, thumb rubbing your puffy clit in tight circles while he plunges his thick, long fingers in your pussy. you're so fucking tight he struggles to push the first one in without hurting you, but after a few minutes, you're taking two of them like a champ, completely soaking his hand in your arousal when you finally cum on it.
theo can't take it anymore, seeing you so flustered and hearing your sweet little moans have him on the verge of bursting in his pants like a bloody teenager, so he withdraws his digits to start taking his clothes off too, and you whine at the loss. but the feeling of emptiness doesn't last long, soon he's pushing his thick cock inside your little cunt.
you're so slick that he slides in pretty easily despite the resistance of your tight walls, his dick stretching you a lot wider than his fingers. and it hurts a bit, but it's a sweet pain that has you whimpering as you beg for more. after a few thrusts, you're cock drunk underneath him, nails digging into his back and leaving scratches that he'll have to hide from your brother for the next few days.
he actually gets you to cum on his dick too, pussy milking him so good that he doesn't even have time to pull out. he spills inside you with a whimper, pounding sloppily into your spasming cunt to ride his orgasm as he stuffs you full of his cum.
more.
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cognitiveoverload · 12 days ago
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Welcome back (Front Man / Hwang In-Ho x reader)
summary: When In-ho returns from the game, he wants to see his lover fall apart under his touch.
tags: secret relationship, established relationship, fem!reader, pregnant!reader, soft smut
note: I know, I know, a lot of you don’t want kids (including myself) so we don’t want stories where reader is pregnant, but this time she is because of reasons. Can be read as a standalone, but here’s the first piece.
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When you see In-ho approaching the control room on the camera feed, you don’t hesitate to turn on your heels and head to his private room where he will most certainly go to change into his usual Front Man attire. You need to see him, you need to exchange at least a few words with him before you lose your mind for good.
You’ve been needy, clingy even, ever since you found out you are pregnant. And him? He’s been overprotective in return, doing whatever he has to to make sure you’re safe and comfortable. The way he softens around you has always been something you loved, but he definitely took it to another level lately.
And sure enough, the moment he steps into the suite, his eyes fall on you, maybe a shade darker from the need that fills his mind, and he closes the gap without much hesitation. It’s so nice to feel his arms around you again, so you bury your face into the crook of his neck and let out a long sigh of relief.
“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper to him.
He leans back to look at you, a small smile playing on his lips as he does so. “I told you there’s no reason to worry.” Before you know it, he grabs your hips and turns you around so your back is pressed to his chest, and when he kisses the crook of your neck, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan. “Are you both okay?”
The best you can do is humming in agreement, because the way he runs his hand all over your body is close to making your brain malfunction. His hand slowly slips under your pants, his thick fingers teasing you as you melt into his touch. Your skin is on fire from desire, but you know he has to stop, there’s no time to play now.
Just as you expected, he lets out a sigh and pulls his hand away. “I need to get dressed, Gi-hun has to be captured alive,” he tells you as he lets go and goes to the bed where you already prepared his clothes.
You blame your raging hormones for the way you’re staring at him. When he takes off the dirty t-shirt and tosses it on the floor, you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from making unholy sounds, because his body is a work of art you want to look at all day. The moment his eyes lock with yours, he lets out a quiet chuckle and keeps going as if nothing happened.
He knows what’s on your mind. He always does.
Soon he heads into your direction, mask already in hand, and stops for a brief moment to give you a quick kiss on the lips. “Stay here. I’ll take care of a few things, then come back to you, okay? I promise I’ll make you feel good,” he says, and you believe that he’ll keep his word.
The quiet of the room that’s left behind is nerve-wrecking, this is why you head to the computer in the office to take a look at the camera feeds, just to make sure you know what’s happening to him. It’s good to stay in the loop, because who knows when someone dares to ask you questions about such little details. In-ho would step in, of course, protecting you as always, but there will be times when you have to defend yourself alone.
Even before he showed you his face for the first time, the two of you had been working in perfect harmony, with him focusing on the game running smoothly, and you taking care of minor issues that didn’t need his attention. Sometimes these two threads intertwined, but it only made the pair of you more efficient.
Your jobs didn’t only require your attention at the time of the games, the preparations and reports afterwards were equally important, and you had a much bigger role during these times. The old man trusted you, so In-ho decided to trust you too, and he complimented you several times to your surprise, even guided you at the beginning until you learned everything.
It was some time before the old man’s death that he sent you your new uniform. When he called you to explain, he said you couldn’t wear that black jumpsuit with the square mask forever, and since the both of you had more responsibilities after what happened, it was only natural to give you a look that would be in sync with his. After all, you were partners now.
There was a tension between you, but not the bad kind, it was more like an invisible string that pulled you closer to each other, and you both found yourselves looking at the other more often. When one of the VIPs made a move on you during your second game, he stepped in to inform him he needed you to be focused on your job, essentially saving you from that disgusting moron.
Strangely, the old man knew about the unaddressed connection between the two of you. When he was on his deathbed, he asked the both of you to come see him, and while you brought your mask with you, In-ho decided to show up without it, so in the end, you put the mask away and let him take a better look at you for the first time.
That’s when the pull became stronger, when he began to invite you to his place for a drink, saying he just wanted to talk about work. More often than not, you found yourselves talking about anything but work, though, and things turned in a different direction eventually as you gave into that spark between you.
Once he’s done and headed back to you based on the route he picked, you lie down on the bed to stretch your limbs and close your eyes for a second. Despite him promising something more exciting than just lying in bed, at this point you are so tired mentally that all you want is snuggling up to him and enjoying the quiet of his room.
The door opens when he finally arrives, but he only shows himself after a few minutes. He left his coat and mask behind, and even poured himself a glass of whisky that he now places on the table near the wall. He looks down at you with a smile, but instead of giving you a kiss, he moves to the foot of the bed and wraps his fingers around your knees.
Your heart is pounding from the anticipation, because you can tell what he’s planning to do now. His eyes give away what’s on his mind, the way they are focused on you, hungry and determined, his brain probably going through each step he carefully planned one last time. Spending days apart isn’t new, but considering what he experienced there, you aren’t surprised that he seems this starved.
Before you know it, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, then kneels down as he painfully slowly moves his hands up your thighs. You prop on your elbows to get a better look at him, and you meet his gaze that’s fixed on your face as he moves to unbutton your pants, then carefully pulls it off of you along with your panties.
Once he throws them away, his lips press a kiss on your left knee, then moves up towards your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to where you desperately need him. He knows exactly what strings to pull to make you beg, and you don’t disappoint him, you soon start to ask him for more, even if you’re not in the right state of mind to know what exactly it is that you want.
In-ho lets out a laugh, seemingly enjoying the way you’re already falling apart for him, and when he rubs his thumb over your clit, you reach out to him, your fingers grabbing his hand that’s resting on your stomach to hold you down. “Having fun?” he asks you before his lips brush along your folds, his tongue darting out for a moment to tease you.
You try to move your hips in an attempt to get more, but he pins you to the bed with ease. It’s getting painful, really, the way he’s messing with your head, even though he knows how much you need him. “Please,” you ask, your voice nothing more but a thin, whining sound.
“Is this all you’ve got for me?” he mocks you, then pushes a finger inside you. The moment he hears your moan, he pushes in another one, fucking you slowly, enjoying the way you’re once again trying to move your hips to meet his moves. “I love how sensitive you’ve been lately, and how easy it became to push you over the edge. Like when I do something like… this,” he says hoarsely before curling his fingers to hit that perfect spot.
Just as he said, it’s enough to push you over the edge, and it feels so good, so different compared to the orgasms before you were pregnant. And he doesn’t stop, now that he knows you’re a little too lost in your head, he decides it’s time to push you to the limit, pulling out one more from you, just until he hears you beg him to fuck you, because you’ll go crazy if you can’t feel him inside you soon.
Been there, done that. More than once.
And he knows you love this private game the two of you play in the safety of your home or private quarters. It’s just one of the things you love about him, the way he wants to claim you by making sure no one else could ever compare to what he can give you. He’s ruining you in the best possible way, and you would be a fool if you didn’t thank him for that.
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taeyongdoyoung · 5 months ago
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hide and seek
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summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k
Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?
He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.
“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.
The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.
The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...
What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.
“Chris, please…”
Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.
Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.
Unless…
He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.
“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.
“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.
The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.
“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.
“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.
You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?
“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”
“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.
“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”
“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”
“It really isn’t…” you confess.
“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.
“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”
“Um, sure, why not?”
You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.
“I’m in.”
“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”
“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”
“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”
Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.
“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”
“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”
“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.
“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”
His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.
“If you find me,” you tease.
“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”
You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.
“Sixty…fifty-nine…”
Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.
Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.
“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”
Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.
“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.
You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.
“Last chance. Run.”
But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.
“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…
“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.
“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”
“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”
“Sure, that’s fine by me.”
“Sorry for ruining the mood.”
Chan shakes his head.
“You could never.”
“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.
“Scene?”
“Scene.”
“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.
“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”
If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?
“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”
“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.
Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.
“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.
You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…
As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.
His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.
You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.
“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.
“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.
“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.
Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.
“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.
“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.
“You feel good?”
“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.
“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”
“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”
Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.
“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.
“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.
“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.
“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”
“Action?”
“Action,” you confirm.
Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.
“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.
“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.
He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.
Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.
“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.
“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.
You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.
“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”
You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.
“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.
Wait, what did you just say?
“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.
You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.
Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.
“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”
Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?
“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.
“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.
“Better than your fantasies?”
“You have no idea.”
“So…when can we do something like this again?”
“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.
“Wait, where are we going?”
“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”
Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.
Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.
“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.
“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”
“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”
“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”
To be continued…
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greengoblinswifey · 2 months ago
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Sins of the Flesh— Father Charlie Mayhew x Nun!Reader
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summary— returning to your life of sin, you’re determined to tempt the one man bound by his faith, your hot priest.
warnings— sacrilege, smoking, dubious morality, daddy kink, degradation, praise kink, father/priest kink, face slapping, spitting kink, spanking, ass slapping, choking, face fucking, oral, blasphemy, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
Growing up, your parents knew there was something off about you, always defying authority, always choosing to do the wrong things, and it was always your way or the high way. You grew up religious, or at least they tried to raise in that way but you were always defiant.
As soon as you were old enough they gave you to the only church that would take you, they thought religion would change you, they thought being a nun make you new as promised.
As soon as you laid eyes on Father Charlie Mayhew, your old ways slowly crept back upon you, reminding you, you were still that depraved little girl. They thought making you become a nun would cause you to forget the worldly life you lived before, smoking, fucking your teachers, your father’s friends, sneaking out, partying, for a moment you even thought so too. But the thoughts ran rampant in your head the moment you laid your eyes on your new priest.
Just like before, you would do anything to get what you wanted, and that included Father Charlie.
You lighted the cigarette between your fingers, watching as the sun set at the back of the church. It was empty, you didn’t know where the other nuns were and frankly you didn’t care. All day you waited in the church for Father Charlie to show up, draped in white thigh high stockings, a short sexy backless black dress showing your ass and the veil covering your head. Tonight was the night you would get your heart’s desire and you knew that desire, desired you too.
The church was silent, save for the soft creak of the door as Father Charlie stepped in. He squinted against the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows, his gaze narrowing on the figure sitting at the front pew. At first, he thought his eyes were betraying him. The curve of a bare back gleamed in the candlelight. Surely, no one would dare—
But then you stood.
His breath hitched as his heart slammed against his ribcage. You turned to face him, and he stumbled back a step, nearly dropping the Bible he carried.
There you were.
White thigh-high stockings clung to your legs, the black dress you wore clinging to every curve and showing your ass. It wasn’t just revealing—it was sacrilege. A skimpy, backless thing that barely grazed your thighs, with a mockery of a nun's veil perched on your head. The candlelight danced along your exposed skin as if taunting him, daring him to look.
“Good evening, Father,” you said, voice low, smooth, dangerous.
He swallowed hard, clutching the cross that hung from his neck like a lifeline. “I rebuke you,” he stammered, raising the cross in trembling hands. “I rebuke this- this evil—”
You took a step closer, your heels clicking softly against the stone floor. He froze, the words caught in his throat as you raised a single finger to his lips. The touch silenced him instantly.
“Shh,” you whispered, plucking the cross from his hand and placing it gently on the bench. His breath came in shallow gasps, and he swore the metal burned against your skin, but you didn’t flinch.
“Sister Y/N,” he managed, his voice cracking, “what… what is this? What are you wearing? This—this is not of God!”
You tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips. “Of God?” you echoed, your tone dripping with mockery. “Charlie, I was never of God. This is who I am. This is who I’ve always been. And deep down, you’ve always known that.”
He shook his head fiercely, the words tumbling from his lips in desperation. “Flee from sin, sister! ‘Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own.’” His voice trembled, reciting the verse as though it could shield him.
You laughed—a soft, dangerous sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “No verse, no prayer, no scripture is going to change what I feelwhen I see you, Charlie.”
He flinched at the use of his name, his throat working as he tried to swallow the lump forming there.
“What I feel,” you continued, stepping closer, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “when I see your hands clutching that cross, when I see the way you look at me right now, Tell me, Father, does your heart race for God? Or is it something else entirely?”
“I—” he began, but the words died on his tongue.
You leaned in, close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from you, and his knees threatened to buckle. “You can fight it all you want,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his ear. “But we both know the truth. Temptation has already won.”
“Shut up, you Jezebel!” Charlie’s voice thundered through the empty church, though his trembling hands betrayed his conviction. “Temptation will never win!”
You only laughed, the sound sultry and mocking. “Really?” you said, running your hands slowly over your breasts, fingers teasing the curve of your waist before sliding down along your hips. His eyes flickered, darting between your hands and your face, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re staring at me, Father. You’re watching. That alone proves you wrong. Temptation already won.”
“No,” he hissed, gripping the Bible tighter as though it could anchor him. But his voice lacked the weight of conviction now, cracking under the pressure of your nearness, your audacity.
You stepped closer, your movements slow, deliberate, the heels of your shoes clicking against the stone floor. “You’re holding that Bible like it’ll save you,” you said, your tone soft but dripping with wicked amusement. “Deep down, you think resisting me will make God go easier on you, don’t you?”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t move when you reached out and plucked the Bible from his hands. He didn’t even flinch when you grabbed the white stole draped over his shoulders and threw it to the floor.
“Enough,” he growled, but his voice was weak, his breath shallow.
“Enough?” you echoed with a smirk before smashing your lips against his.
The kiss was all teeth and desperation, as though both of you had been starving for touch. He resisted for only a moment, his hands hovering uncertainly at his sides, before he gave in. His fingers curled around your bare back, trailing lower until they squeezed your ass hard enough to make you gasp against his lips.
“God forgive me,” he whispered against your mouth, though his actions spoke louder.
You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “You’ve already lost, Father.”
His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as you grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the raised chair where he would sit during sermons. He stumbled after you, confusion flashing across his face. “What are you doing—”
You shoved him down into the chair, the power dynamic shifting completely. His eyes widened as you dropped to your knees in front of him, your hands working quickly at his belt. “Stop this—” he began, but the words fell flat as your smirk deepened.
“You can’t even convince yourself anymore, Charlie.”
When you pulled his pants and boxers down, he froze, his jaw tightening. “You’re—filthy,” he growled, though the raw need in his eyes betrayed him.
You grinned, your hands trailing teasingly along his thighs. “And yet, here you are. Letting me suck your cock. Watching me.”
“You’re a disgrace,” he muttered, his voice shaking as he gripped the edge of the chair, trying not to let himself fall completely. But when you took him down your throat, his head fell back against the chair, a groan escaping his lips despite himself.
“Say it again, Father,” you teased, pausing just long enough to look up at him. “Tell me how terrible I am.”
“You’re disgusting,” he spat, his hand finding its way to the back of your head. “You’re nothing but a shameless little whore in a costume.”
“And you’re no better,” you countered, your voice dripping with triumph. “You’re the one holding me here. You’re the one losing control.”
He cursed under his breath, his fingers tightening in your hair after ripping the veil off. “This means nothing.”
You smiled, your voice a soft whisper as you worked. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Father.”
For a moment, the church was silent except for the ragged sound of his breathing and the gagging sounds you made on his cock. You were all doe eyed, staring up at him as you bobbed your head fast, taking him feel in your throat like you were starved.
Charlie’s grip on your curls tightened, his control unraveling with every passing second. His composure shattered as he let out a guttural moan, his body trembling as he gave in completely, letting his cum shoot down your throat. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his face torn between anger and shame.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, your smirk as wicked as ever. “Well, well,” you teased, your voice dripping with mockery. “Are you ashamed, Father? Ashamed you’re nothing but a filthy little man-whore?”
The words barely left your mouth before his hand cracked against your cheek, the sharp sound echoing through the empty church. Your head snapped to the side, your cheek stinging, but instead of backing down, you slowly turned back to him, sticking out your tongue with a defiant grin.
“Again, Daddy,” you said, the name deliberately provocative.
His jaw clenched, his fury rising as he struck you again, harder this time. The sting only made your grin widen as your hands shamelessly cupped your breasts, pushing them together. “That all you’ve got?” you purred, daring him further.
“You’re insufferable,” he growled, his voice thick with frustration. But instead of another slap, he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up, pulling you over his lap in one swift motion.
“Hey—” you began, but the words turned into a startled squeal as he shoved you forward, leaving your ass high in the air.
“What are you—”
The first smack landed hard on your exposed skin, cutting off your question and replacing it with a gasp.
“You think you’re in control here?” he muttered, his hand coming down again, leaving a sharp sting that radiated across your skin.
Each spank made you squeal, your hands gripping his thigh as you tried to steady yourself. Your cheeks burned—not just from the spanking but from the sheer humiliation of it. Yet deep down, you knew the truth. Your plan had backfired and in the best way possible.
By the time he finished, your brown skin was bruised and throbbing, your breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice low and almost taunting as he ran a hand over your sore skin. “A filthy little Jezebel who thought she could win.”
You lifted your head, still defiant even through the haze of embarrassment. “And yet, here we are, Father,” you said, your voice breathless.
He snorted, pulling you up and setting you in the chair where he usually sat, the shift in power unmistakable.
“Let’s see how a slut like you tastes,” he muttered, dropping to his knees before you.
For the first time, the smugness faltered from your expression, replaced with genuine surprise as he pushed your knees apart and leaned forward. His tongue was hot and deliberate, and your gasp quickly turned into a moan as your back arched against the chair.
“Oh, look at you,” he murmured between strokes, his tone switching from harsh to saccharine. “Squirming like the desperate whore you are. Is this what you wanted? To be worshipped like the sinner you are?”
Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in the slicked-back strands as your head tilted back, your breath coming in broken gasps. “You’re pathetic,” you managed, the words breaking through your moans. “A priest on his knees, doing this.”
He groaned against you, the vibrations shooting through your body. “Say whatever you want, Jezebel,” he muttered, his lips brushing against sensitive skin. “You’re mine now.”
Your legs began to tremble, your grip tightening in his hair as he worked you relentlessly, dragging you closer and closer to the edge. “Charlie,” you gasped, your voice rising into a desperate cry. “You’re so—”
But the words dissolved into a scream as release hit you, your body shaking uncontrollably. Your hands fisted in his hair, holding him in place until you finally collapsed against the chair, your body limp.
Charlie pulled back, his lips glistening as he smirked up at you, a mix of pride and defiance in his eyes.
“Well?” he asked, his voice low and smug. “Still think you’re in control?”
You leaned forward, your grin as wicked as ever. “Always,” you purred.
His hand shot out, gripping your throat firmly, cutting off your attempt to take control. His gaze was dark, his breath heavy, but his dominance was clear.
“Enough,” Charlie growled, his voice low and commanding. “This is my show now. You want to play games, little bitch? Let’s see how far you’ll go.”
With a sudden pull, he dropped into the seat, hauling you onto his lap. Before you could react, he positioned you above him, and with one forceful motion, he made you sink down onto him.
Your head fell back with a sharp cry, the sound echoing in the vast emptiness of the church. “Oh, my—”
“Don’t you dare,” he interrupted, his grip tightening on your hips. “You don’t get to call His name like this.”
The stretch was unbearable, a delicious burn that left you gasping, trembling as you tried to adjust. His hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you jolt.
“Move,” he commanded, his voice rough. “Do what you so desperately wanted, sinner.”
You obeyed, slowly lifting yourself before dropping down again, each movement drawing a gasp from your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, and the pace you set was erratic, your body struggling to keep up.
Charlie’s laugh was deep and cruel. “Look at you,” he mocked, his fingers digging into your waist. “Can’t even handle what you started. Struggling already?”
“I can—” you started, but your words turned into a whimper as he thrust up into you, his movements brutal and precise.
“You can’t even lie convincingly,” he said with a smirk, slapping your ass again as he began to move beneath you. “But don’t worry—I’ll make sure you learn what happens to disobedient little brats.”
As his pace increased, the sound of your bodies meeting filled the room. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you tried to hold on, your cries growing louder with each motion. But then, with a sudden crack, the sound of a cross falling from the wall startled you both.
You froze, your chest heaving as you glanced toward it. The heavy wooden symbol lay on the ground, its impact still in the air.
“There’s no going back now,” he said, his tone dark as he pulled your gaze back to him. “Might as well see this through.”
With renewed determination, you began moving again, his hands guiding you as you bounced on him. Your breath hitched, your body trembling as you neared the edge.
“Be a good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Come on, Jezebel. Let go for me.”
His words sent you spiraling, and you cried out as the coil in your belly snapped, your release shuddering through you. Your body shook, but he didn’t stop.
Instead, Charlie gripped you tightly and stood, lifting you as though you weighed nothing. You barely had time to catch your breath before he pressed you against the pulpit, the sacred space now a backdrop to his unrelenting desire.
His thrusts were harsh and deliberate, driving you further into the wood. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, his voice like a growl.
You obeyed, your lips parting as he leaned closer. His spit landed on your tongue, and he watched with dark satisfaction as you swallowed without hesitation.
“Good girl,” he said, a cruel smirk on his lips as he kept moving, his pace relentless.
You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging in as you gasped, “You’re pathetic. A priest defiling his own church.”
“And you’re nothing but a filthy little sinner,” he shot back, his voice laced with both anger and satisfaction. “But look at you—begging for it.”
Your body tensed again, the heat building as his movements pushed you closer and closer. With a final, shattering cry, you came undone once more, your legs trembling as you clung to him.
“Daddy,” you panted.
Charlie’s breath was heavy, his face inches from yours as he stilled, a mixture of triumph and shame in his eyes.
“You’ll never win,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.
You smirked, your voice soft but dripping with defiance. “I already have.”
You slid off him slowly, your legs shaking as you steadied yourself. Turning to the altar, you leaned forward, arching your back and wiggling your hips with a teasing grin.
“It’s your turn, daddy,” you purred, your voice dripping with mockery. “Don’t Catholics believe in not wasting their seed? Isn’t it—sinful?”
Charlie froze, his jaw tightening as his eyes raked over your form, spread open and shameless against the sacred altar. His fists clenched, but his resolve cracked.
“You’re despicable,” he growled, stepping closer. “Arching yourself like that—mocking this holy place.”
“And yet,” you teased, glancing back at him, “here you are.”
The last thread of his control snapped. Dropping to his knees, Charlie grabbed your hips and slapped your ass hard, the sound echoing through the quiet church. “You’re such a filthy little temptress,” he spat, positioning himself behind you.
With one swift motion, he sank into you, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. His grip on your waist was bruising as he set a punishing rhythm, each movement driving you forward against the altar.
“You’re so tight,” he muttered through clenched teeth.
“All for you, Father,” you taunted, glancing over your shoulder with a smirk. “If you keep being this filthy priest, maybe I’ll keep being your little sinner and you’ll keep fucking this tight pussy.”
He groaned, his fingers digging into your flesh as you pushed back against him, meeting his every thrust. His words came harsh and degrading, but his voice carried a grudging admiration. “You’re disgusting. Throwing yourself at me like this—like a cheap little whore.”
“And you love it,” you countered, your voice breathy as you moved against him. “Admit it, Charlie, you’ve wanted this. You’ve wanted me.”
“You’re mine,” he snarled, his hands sliding up to grip your waist, pulling you harder against him. “Do you hear me? Mine. My little bitch. And you’re going to cum on my cock again, aren’t you?”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your body trembled as the pressure built. With a sharp cry, you lost control, shuddering as your release consumed you. You squirted on your priest and the altar, gasping for breath.
“You’re so sexy,” Charlie groaned, his pace becoming frantic. “So hard to resist, but you’re mine now. Beg for my cum.”
“Please,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Please, daddy, I need it.”
“That’s right,” he growled. “You’re going to take it—all of it. I’ll fill you up until you’re mine completely.”
You let out a breathless laugh, glancing back at him with defiance. “Surely this baby will be the Antichrist,” you quipped, your smirk daring him to lose himself further.
Charlie slammed into you one final time, his grip tightening as he groaned loudly, his release marking the culmination of your forbidden encounter.
The two of you collapsed against the altar, tangled together and panting heavily. For a moment, the only sound in the church was your labored breathing.
“Look at us,” you murmured with a smirk, tracing a finger along his chest. “A priest and his sinner, tangled up on the altar. What would your God say?”
Charlie closed his eyes, his expression torn between satisfaction and shame. “Don’t speak,” he said hoarsely, his voice tinged with exhaustion.
But you only smiled, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted him.
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