#and hes just like 'no fuck that hes coming back with me to the County'

[sunflowercider]

....man, it's kinda fucked up in ch 304(?) that Javier decided he'd force Lloyd back to Lorasia even if Lloyd wanted to stay in Seoul. Javier? Hey bud? Thats kinda fucked up my guy (affectionate)

[gutsby]

Stupid Prizes

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Before you head back to college, your dad wants to go on one last family outing: the county fair. The only problem? Your secret fuckbuddy, Joel, is there.

Warnings: 18+. Sneaky, unprotected p-in-v. Joel pining for you while your dad is beside him, oblivious for now. Semi-public sex (on a ferris wheel—don’t ever do that). Gross misuse of a candy apple. Age gap. Jealous Joel. Teasing. Angst(!) Mentions of infidelity/abandonment.

Word count: 10.0k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The gingham dress was your best idea yet.

For Joel, nothing could’ve been worse.

He’d cum down your throat no more than ten minutes ago, and with just a glimpse of your new getup bounding down the stairs—you’d had to change after he painted your last one white—Joel almost inhaled his Heineken.

He coughed and sputtered and hacked the beer back up while you strolled past the sofa and grinned at your dad.

“Ready to go, old man?”

It was just a short red frock with a sweetheart neckline.

The fabric cinched at the waist and flowed with every step you would take. Turning slightly to toy with the hem, and teasing the only eyes on you, you corrected yourself:

“Sorry…old men, I mean.”

Something like amusement flashed in Joel’s eyes.

Didn’t seem to mind this old man’s cock down your—

“I was born ready, kid,” your dad answered, still messing with something on his key ring, “How ‘bout you, Miller?”

“Yessir.” Joel stood.

He recalled you saying something similar before opening your mouth in the guest bathroom just fifteen minutes earlier. Joel’s cock twitched in his jeans at the memory, and his cheeks might’ve tinged a little, remembering how fast he’d cum. You’d only smiled and sucked your thumb, getting a taste of the residue that had missed your chest.

“Quite a mess you made there, Joel.”

And you repeated those words, at length, with only you and him to know what it had meant to you both before.

You gestured to the smattering of crushed potato chips on his shirt, and your grin got bigger. Joel grew redder.

“Yeah…” he mumbled, brushing the crumbs off his front. He wasn’t nearly as fast with the comebacks as he was with other kinds of comings and goings, and he knew it. He set the bag of Lays aside and seemed ready to leave.

But when he’d licked the salt off his lips and caught you staring—when he saw his friend go back to the kitchen:

“I had to be quick,” he said. Then, lowering his voice, “You know better’n anyone what a messy eater I am.”

Of course you knew that. Joel winked at you, and you winked back, mostly making fun of the boomer move. He reached for you—the edge of your skirt scarcely hanging a fraction of the way down your thighs—and he opened his mouth to speak again, when there was the sound of heavy boots at the threshold of the room. Joel leaned past your body and snagged the bag of chips instead.

“Food for the road?” He turned to his friend.

“All you,” your dad replied, smiling and waving the chips off as he went for the front door, “I swear your stomach’s a bottomless pit, man. Eatin’ me outta house and home.”

Joel looked at you when your dad was past you both.

House and home ain’t the only thing I’m gonna—

“Let’s go,” you chirped, fast, “I call shotgun!”

This would be a long, long day, no doubt.

The county fair had been his friend’s idea. One last day of ‘family fun’ before his little girl went back to school out East, and Joel hadn’t seen Bellville in years, so he’d asked him if he wanted to join. After a shared, brief stint in abstinence camp, the answer should’ve been clear:

‘NO.’

But Joel hadn’t learned very much from the Fireflies in the less than 72 hours he’d spent living—and also fucking you—there, so he’d nodded and said ‘Okay.’

Now you were twenty minutes out from the fairgrounds with a near-depleted tank of gas in the truck, obliged to make a quick pit stop at a Texaco. It was the first time he’d been alone with you since you’d set off from Austin. The second his friend was gone and headed inside to buy a pack of smokes, he heard a seatbelt come undone.

Earlier, he had raced you and beat you to the car to lay claim on the passenger seat, so you’d been in the back this whole time. He barely saw you before he felt you, climbing over the center console and then into his lap.

Straddling him while the Eagles played faintly overhead.

“Feel fucking insane not being able to touch you right now,” you huffed against his lips, kissing him hungrily.

Joel groaned. Felt your lower half grind into his. Almost rutted his hips up and yearned to have you seated on something other than just his denim-clad crotch when he sucked in a breath and remembered where he was. He nudged your hips and fisted the fabric in his hand.

“You in this dress ain’t helpin’ me either,” he growled.

You grinned against him, then hiked the red-and-white material up your legs a little more. Joel felt something like a shockwave when he saw what was underneath it.

Or, rather, what wasn’t there at all: your panties.

“Bathroom quickie?” you said, already breathless, “I’ll tell my dad I got cramps. I’ve been so wet this whole ti—”

“Darlin’.”

Joel’s eyes had drifted down to the place where your body and his were touching—rubbing—now. Even from this limited vantage point, he could see a glistening patch sticking from your bare seam to his jeans, and it was pooling on the fabric. Practically oozing out of your cunt while you rocked your hips and begged him please.

“Please, just one. I’ll be good the rest of the day, daddy.”

“Fuck,” Joel hissed.

His pupils were wide, and his mind was seriously considering it. Stupidly so, he reckoned; your dad was bound to be back any second, and surely you couldn’t both be gone for more than five minutes without raising suspicions. It was a reckless endeavor, he already knew.

And when he saw his old friend strolling out the front doors of the Texaco, his decision was made for him.

He watched you scramble off his lap and back to your seat, body quick and lithe and giggling the whole way.

“Gonna get me murdered, girl,” Joel panted, gruff.

Your own smile didn’t waver; you just settled back into the middle seat and let your gaze trail out the window, trying to fix your eyes on something to calm you down.

You already had the sense that nothing would. Your teeth bit your bottom lip between them to forestall the threat of another laugh while your dad approached the vehicle.

From the radio, ‘Life in the Fast Lane’ kept playing.

As old as they were, Joel Miller and your dad had a funny way of acting more like kids than you ever had, at any age. As your trio approached the wide, gleaming gates of the Austin County Fair, you saw your dad nudge Joel, and Joel shoved him back, and somewhere in the midst of all the ribbing, you heard your dad say, clear as day:

“If I’m takin’ a whole day off work, I’m gettin’ hammered.”

You knew by that tone this would an interesting afternoon, to say the least. You held your ticket tighter.

And for a moment, you wished you’d worn underwear. It’d been a split-second decision to peel them off before skipping downstairs, and it had worked well enough—Joel walking with a limp all throughout the parking lot and trying to shield the tent in his jeans—but now you were the one in greater danger still. Seeing your secret family-friend-with-benefits in his tight, light, heather grey shirt and jeans, hips adorned with a hefty belt and moving deliciously with each new step he took, you were transfixed. Left to watch him and gawk and grow wetter between the legs with every passing second, there was nothing you could do about it now. Likely sensing this, Joel raked a hand through his grey-flecked hair and hummed to himself. His bicep bulged through the sleeve.

“Nice little view, ain’t it?” he asked, nodding to the outline of a dozen shining rides and attractions ahead.

Go fuck yourself, Joel.

“Can’t wait to ride that.” You pointed to the ferris wheel, though the finger in your mind was aimed closer to him.

“Funnel cake,” your dad beamed, eyeing a nearby stand.

The three of you weren’t walking for much longer before he insisted on buying one. Joel had had a hankering for lemonade himself, so he’d fallen in line behind you and your dad. When it was your turn to order, you paused.

Then, pointing again:

“Can you get me one of those?”

You’d had to stand on tiptoes to see it inside the display, but from Joel’s own height, he was certain to have seen what you meant. While your dad shilled out the cash, not batting an eye, the man behind him clenched his jaw.

Candy apple, hon? Real fuckin’ mature.

Your eyes met his as soon as you’d turned, treat in hand.

I thought you liked seeing big things in my mouth, Joel.

He would’ve scowled if he wasn’t next in line—and your dad wasn’t walking so close behind, sniffing his food.

Joel ordered his drink, drank it fast, and found his thirst no better quenched than when he’d started. You’d sat across from him at the table and made sure of that.

You dragged your tongue up the sugar-coated apple just like you’d done to his shaft that morning and blinked, savoring the taste. Feigning innocence as he looked on.

And what else could he do? If not watch you, then peer at your father, furtively, and make sure he wasn’t able to see so much as a second of this little show you were putting on now. Joel glanced around you, too. No one else seemed to notice what was going on, even when your lips left a soft, sweet suction near the top of the apple, and he could’ve sworn he’d heard you moan.

It was just in his head. He was remembering how you’d done it that morning, mouth sinking down his length and whimpering when you’d reached the base. The way your eyes had watered, your free hand had reached between your legs, and your lips had welcomed him in; it was all burned in his memory, and not retreating any time soon.

Neither was the blood rushing to his dick, he reckoned.

You didn’t seem to care. Even when a bright pink river of spit and sugar trickled out of your mouth, you didn’t flinch. You let it slide down to your chin. Right before it reached the end of your face, and you were certain Joel’s gaze was glued to the spot, you licked a little bit of it off. You didn’t get it all in one go, so you shifted your snack to the other hand and then swiped your thumb under your lips. You brought it up to your mouth and sucked it, just like you’d done with Joel’s cum on it earlier that day.

Joel chucked his cup in the trash. Your dad took another bite of his deep-fried pastry and, talking between chews:

“That was fast.”

“Need’a stretch my legs,” Joel announced, abrupt.

He turned to you, and your thumb came out of your mouth. The frown on his face was unmistakable, though your father probably thought it was just from having to squint against the sun. Not because he was incensed.

Out for revenge.

“Ready to get wrecked, kiddo?” he asked you.

Your eyes widened, and your tongue quit licking.

What?

Then you saw him nod to some spot over your shoulder. You didn’t have the nerve to follow his gaze as he did.

Faintly, you could make out a smirk crossing his lips.

“Arcade’s over there. Unless you’re too scared.”

Your dad raised a dumbass, not a quitter.

You’d accepted Joel’s proposal without a second thought, and your father seemed pleased to have the chance to peruse the food stands and beer carts to his heart’s content. You’d set off quickly. Your candy apple was still in your hand when you saw your friend lean over.

Joel opened his mouth, and he took a big, angry bite.

“You’re insane,” he said after, words muffled by fruit.

You took your first steps inside the dark, cool building littered with machines and fun activities of every kind, and deep down, you were happy you’d had that treat. You took a bite yourself, then discreetly patted his ass through his jeans and told him, ‘Only for you, Miller.’

You weren’t sure why you’d said it. As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you regretted it, no matter how stupid and playful the message was meant to be read. But then Joel nudged you back—actually wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side.

His mouth was close to you, and you could feel the smile:

“Just how I like it.”

Your cheeks heated a little. You weren’t so fond of the intimate move—in public like this, even as dark as the arcade happened to be—but you couldn’t deny the flutter in your stomach. You swallowed the rest of your apple, and with it, any shred of emotion, or so you were hoping. You nudged Joel off of you under the guise of trying to point to something new, and his eyes followed.

“C’mon. At least pick something you’ve got half a shot of winning,” he said, swiftly. Sounding smug as he spoke.

You plodded on anyway, not hesitating at all.

“I’ve got more than half a shot,” you assured him, tone arguably twice as conceited, “Now if you’re scared—”

“You can’t use my own lingo against me, little girl.”

“Then nut up or shut up, old man.”

Joel scoffed. You chewed. The two of you approached the Skee-Ball machines with near identical looks of ambition and zeal, and sensing this tension wouldn’t dissipate with any more shit-talking, you got to work.

The first game was close. You beat him by less than ten points, and you guessed that that had been due in part to Joel’s own will. You saw him make more than two pitches so outrageously bad that you’d had to have guessed he was going easy on you. As soon as you felt that, you’d scowled. Pointed angrily at the scoreboard.

“You can’t just let me win, Miller!” you said, shrill.

Joel’s hands went up, and you knew he’d deny it all.

“No need to gloat, now, honey—”

“Fuck off,” you snapped, all while fighting back a smile, “Gimme your A game or don’t bother playing, honey.”

And he did.

The next game left you destroyed, roughly 900 to 320. You stepped back from the machine, feeling a frown start to form on your lips but knowing you’d asked for this, and just as Joel was about to lean in to offer a conciliatory hug, he had to stop. Both of you turned.

Somewhere behind you, you’d heard a voice.

It was young, male, and audibly amused.

“He really whooped your ass, huh?”

Your eyebrows raised as soon as you saw the source. Your scowl morphed into a smile, and your eyes were bright—too bright, almost. You ran over to hug the boy.

He was a boy, after all. Likely no more than half Joel’s weight soaking wet and wearing the biggest, dumbest grin that could only belong to a guy your age. He hugged you back, and his arms tightened around you. Comfily.

“Wade!” you gushed, squeezing him hard. You stepped back and looked him over, as if in shock, “It’s been…”

“Forever,” Too-comfy-cozy Wade finished for you.

Joel frowned.

“And here I thought you were gone away for good!” you laughed, “Went off to get that fancy Stanford degree—”

“—and you, in Boston—” the boy chimed in.

Before the reminiscing could go on much further, you remembered yourself and turned back to Joel. Still beaming as bright as you’d been when you first saw the kid, you gestured indistinctly, tongue-tied for a second.

“This— Joel, this is Wade Pritchett, one of my friends from high school,” you introduced him. Letting the two men—or, rather, mustached boy and muscled man—shake hands. Evidently, you were too stoked to notice.

“He moved out to Sacramento our senior year, and none of us thought— well, we— we figured we’d probably never see him again. Fuckin’ west coast hot shot he is.”

You smirked as you nudged his ribs, and something in Joel turned to month-old milk: sour, rancid, and heavy. His stomach turned inside him, and he hardly knew why. All he noticed was that he didn’t like the eyes you were making at him, and he hated the face Wade had for you.

Joel was just looking out for you, really.

You could do so much better than this douche.

“This is my friend,” you said to Wade, motioning back. Then, reconsidering just a second, “My dad’s friend.”

Joel didn’t like that.

Wade gave him a brief once-over and hardly seemed to see him at all. In that millisecond of a look, Joel saw it:

‘Old family friend. No worries there.’

Foolishly, Joel wished the chump could’ve seen what you’d been doing the night before—impaled on his cock and riding him as hard as your knees would allow you:

‘Daddy, please, daddy, daddy, daddy.’

“Joel?” Your voice cut in his mind like a knife.

Joel blinked.

“Yeah?”

“Okay if Wade joins?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah.”

Not that it mattered now. Royal pain-in-the-ass Pritchett was already getting the machine next to yours set up.

Joel eyed him once more and tried to swallow his pride.

Somewhere along the way, it got stuck in his throat.

Three rounds was all he could take.

You on Wade, Wade on you—goading each other on in the most sly, flirtatious ways. Or maybe it was just Joel imagining that. Regardless, the man didn’t feel guilty at all when, at the conclusion of the third game, he’d tried to feign a casual tone and told you your dad would be expecting you back any minute, better wrap things up.

“He texted me like twenty minutes ago saying he’d be neck-deep in craft beer for an hour. I think we’re good,” you replied, and the indifference in yours didn’t have to be faked. You grinned at Wade, and Wade grinned back.

“Well, he texted me a second ago that he was holding a spot for us in line at the ferris wheel, so let’s roll, kid.”

That was a lie.

Joel didn’t like himself for doing it. But, again, he didn’t like Wade Pritchett even more, and he reasoned that he was doing you a favor, anyway. He searched for the exit.

“It’s alright, my mom’s probably looking for me, too.”

We get it, Pritchett. You’re a mama’s boy.

“Ah, okay.” You almost sounded sad.

Don’t be, baby. You’re daddy’s girl, remember?

Wade pulled you in for a hug; Joel wanted to deck him.

“I’ll be in town all week if you wanna—”

“I wish. My flight leaves tomorrow,” you cut in. Now your tone was really despondent. Your mouth was pouting.

It was just Joel’s eyes. He was seeing things. He was thinking you cared for this guy more than you probably ever did, and he was getting himself worked up over nothing. He clenched one hand into a fist by his side and waited for the anger to subside. Sadly, it was slow to go.

“Maybe we could…go out for drinks later or something?”

That suggestion didn’t make things any easier on Joel.

“I’d love to.”

Your reply didn’t exactly set his mind at ease, either.

At last, he decided he’d had enough. Turning on his heels, he bid a terse goodbye to shithead Pritchett and walked out of the arcade. He didn’t stop until he’d hit one of the bar carts your dad had been raving about outside.

He contemplated buying a drink. Maybe two. In fact, he’d just been eyeing three cans of Coors Light and was fishing for his wallet when he heard your voice again.

“Joel?”

“Yeah?” His tone was clipped.

If you felt it, you didn’t show it.

“Are we riding the ferris wheel or not?”

He probably should’ve given a verbal answer in the affirmative. Instead, he’d just nodded his head and started off the other way, expecting you to follow.

The walk was short. You’d had to weave through a sea of fairgoers, including schoolkids, college-aged drunks, and more than a fair share of loved-up couples, but that wasn’t too bad. Joel just ignored each one and didn’t stop until you’d reached the line for the ferris wheel.

Or what was left of the line, anyway.

Unlike what Joel had told you, there was no wraparound queue for you to join. Your father wasn’t there. Once you’d passed a look over the dozen-odd people waiting patiently for it to be their turn on the ride, you felt your stomach turn. Joel had never texted your dad at all.

“He’s not coming, is he?” Dispensing with the obvious.

Joel still wouldn’t look your way. He’d just sidled up behind the last people in line—a group of older folks who all seemed eager to get on the ferris wheel. You scoffed when you saw Joel’s expression harden, and you planned to turn away. Then the people up front started to move. For a moment, you were torn between telling him off and leaving him there. At length, you settled on saying, low:

“You lied.”

Joel followed the moving line, and a few more people started to trickle in behind you. Before you could even think to speak again, you were nudged ahead by the force of that crowd, and had only to keep glaring.

“Hey—” you hissed, only five steps away from the platform now. The ride attendant was scanning the line, appearing to count the people approaching the gate, and when his eyes landed on you, you made out a little grin.

“Aww, your daughter scared’a heights or somethin’?”

He’d said it to Joel, sounding cheeky. His teeth gleamed in the light of a hundred different neon bulbs, and you had to avert your face to keep from revealing its disgust.

So everyone else still thinks he’s my dad. That’s nice.

You couldn’t see Joel’s expression, but you imagined it looked the same. You shuffled ahead, reluctantly, and heard a lady behind you laugh; the sound had a tipsy lilt.

“My kid’s the same way—you’ll be fine, hon,” she slurred.

Heights aren’t the issue here, you’d wanted to snap back, for no other reason than your own disdain for Joel and the present situation. He walked in front of you, still refusing to meet your gaze, and soon you were perched on the platform, sandwiched between two semi-rowdy throngs of fairgoers with no clear means of escape. You crossed your arms and stared up at the back of his head. The look you gave him probably could’ve burned holes in his skull if irritation had been the means of achieving it.

You were seated on the ride in minutes. The compartment was surprisingly large, and its walls high, with glass on every side. Under a waning afternoon sun, the views you expected to see were bound to be pretty. All that was left to detract from its splendor was Joel— hunkered down opposite you and manspreading. Wide.

Sitting in total silence with his denim-covered legs split in a ‘V’. Watching you and rubbing one thigh, absently.

“You’ve got some nerv—” you started in.

“Yeah, no. No. That kid was gettin’ on my nerves—”

It amazed you how fast Joel was to return your words with a hostile quip of his own, anger flashing in his eyes.

“What’d he even do?! He’s my friend— my best friend—”

Fury flitted to something like discomfort, momentarily.

“Oh yeah? Just friends?”

“What the fuck does it matter to you?”

In your own expression, rage flared unchecked. You didn’t particularly care what Joel thought now if he was immature enough to act like this, and the walls of the compartment were thick enough to prevent anyone else’s hearing a word of it. The ride continued to rumble along, letting on new passengers with each new stop.

Joel might’ve paused. Could’ve stared out the window for all you knew—everything but the wheel itself seemed to be moving at lightning speed, and time was sliding.

“Because I— I— I give a shit, kid. I care.”

“And that makes lying to me alright?”

“I was just worried for your—”

“Bullshit. What would you need to be so worried about? Me playing Skee-Ball with an old friend and maybe getting drinks? You can fuck right off with that.”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, but he shut it when the ride suddenly jolted to a stop. It sputtered. Then, after a long, tense moment, it slowly ascended again. You took this lull in speech as your own chance to re-intervene:

“That’s not ‘care.’ Or ‘worry,’” you continued, words dripping with condescension, “That’s controlling.”

“Controlling?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

Joel Miller always did.

“It’s not—”

“It is—”

“Protecting you from assholes like him—”

“—he’s not—and I never asked you to do that!”

“So I just sit by and watch him touch what’s mine—”

“I’m not yours, Joel!”

Your last words echoed through the car like a shotgun’s report. You’d said it with such force—so emphatic for him not to be mistaken in what this was, or whose you were—when you hardly even knew how you felt yourself. It was a knee-jerk reaction, and one that Joel knew only too well. The last time you two fucked, he’d begged the same: ‘Say you’re mine,’ and no matter how close you’d been to release at the time, you simply couldn’t say it. Now, clear-headed and mostly clothed, you still despised those words. Emotions. Uniquely juxtaposed with Joel’s jealousy over Wade, you’d never wanted to say it louder:

“I’m not yours, and I never will be. So just stop.”

More cruel.

“Are we clear?”

The car came to a halt near the top. When Joel still hadn’t deigned to answer, you leaned in closer.

“I said, are we fucking clear, Miller?”

Then you didn’t have to wait.

“I hear you.”

Of course he heard. His face was hard. His eyes were like two brown stones in the sockets, and the line of his mouth was tight. Whatever use you might’ve had in trying to decipher that look was ignored for the time being; you were still too angry. And, perhaps owing to this state—with a white-hot look fixed on him and your head full of blinding, bitter thoughts—you were more than susceptible to surprise. You jumped when you felt it.

Felt him with a hand moving from his leg to yours.

It went quick but was almost too ridiculous to fathom—how swift Joel was in reaching for you, hoisting you into his lap, letting your limbs straddle his hips with all the ease of old, welcome habits. It might’ve worked just as well, were it not for the tension in your legs. The short, sharp, ‘Joel’ and a look flitting out to either side of you.

“What?” he grunted.

You heard a fly unzip.

“We’re on a—”

Before you could finish, and as if to furnish the answer for you, the ride shuddered back to life. Its descent was slow, but any movement now made your stomach churn. It didn’t matter that most of the cabin was encased in metal, the rest semi-tinted plexiglass, or that your space was almost entirely shielded from the view of other cars—it was too much of a risk, as was everything with him.

Joel remained blind to it all. Your cabin came to a stop, still high in the sky, and then you felt him grip something between you. In one swift motion, he had the head of his cock rubbing your seam. You sighed; his eyes were cold.

“C’mon then…show me what ain’t mine,” he murmured.

His voice was low. You hated those words. This was more than just that. Your cunt slid and accepted him anyway.

For a second, your gaze was level with his. Your hips hadn’t stirred, and he was crawling inch-by-inch inside you, pulling you down. The act could’ve been intimate, had the words that passed before not been so harsh—and the place not been a fucking amusement park.

When the ride resumed its slow, rumbling circuit, he didn’t make your bodies part, but instead flipped you around. Your back was flush with his front, and by all appearances, you were innocently perched on his lap.

What the tens, or dozens, or hundreds of strangers ambling around down below couldn’t see was that a cock was nestled inside you, too. That with every gentle bump of the wheel, a man several decades your senior was filling you to the hilt, sending waves of pleasure through your body and his while he stuffed you tight. What your dad didn’t know was that this was his friend. That the nose nudging the skin between your sleeve and your neck belonged to Joel, and his breaths were short.

Trying to calm the flutter of his pulse and the pull of his lungs, he flattened his hands on either one of your thighs. He rubbed his palms back and forth, and you glanced down to find the insides of your legs extra shiny.

Slick, pretty, and full of him. He tilted your chin back up.

“Nice and quiet for daddy—nice and still. No squirmin’.”

He nudged your hips forward, and his cock brushed a wet, spongy ridge inside you. You had to purse your lips to swallow a noise. You felt your cunt drool even more.

The car swung low, in the line of sight of far too many eyes, and then it stopped again. You weren’t at liberty to move at all, and still, the feel of Joel inside you was raw.

Grating, almost.

It made the prospect of conversation seem the tiniest bit easier, though—forced to face away from each other and act civil now. Right before the ride started up again, you gripped the armrest and anchored your feet to his boots.

“Feels…good,” you whimpered.

“That so?” Joel murmured back.

“So—oh.”

Your words fell apart at the next brush of his hand, sliding down to your heat and taking his index and middle fingers to the precious, pulsing bud in between.

Soon the car was up at a comfortable height. You sighed.

Your legs pressed together over Joel’s, and you felt him rub the tips of his fingers even harder, circles tighter.

“I know,” he said, sensing your words before they came, “I know it feels nice, baby. Keep that chin up for daddy.”

Don’t let them know I’m inside you. Stay quiet.

But his girth was so much. The tug of his smooth, throbbing manhood between your walls was almost more than you could take. You laced the fingers of your free hand with his over your thigh, and you held them tight as your hips wriggled back. You couldn’t help it, feeling a welt of pleasure start to blossom in your belly.

“Joel—” you started.

“Don’t talk,” Joel grumbled, stern, “It’ll draw attention.”

You sensed there was more to it than that. Your fingers threaded even deeper through his, and he squeezed them back. Between your bodies, there rose a soft, gentle tap, tap, tap with the thrusts Joel was able to deliver now that you were back up high and out of sight. If there was any time to speak, this was your window.

Joel probably wished you hadn’t, but you tried, anyway.

“You know it’s been years since—”

“Since?”

Now you didn’t want to say it. But you knew you had to.

“Wade’s been my friend since—”

Another influx of something soft and tender inside you. Joel holding your hand, pushing himself deeper, and trying not to groan when you clenched around him. Hating that he had to hear that name, most likely.

You despised the words even more before you said them:

“—since my mom left.”

It was an awful time to be bringing this up, admittedly. Both of you on the brink of release with Joel’s cock buried as far inside you as it would go, his fingers entwined with yours, and the ride drifting lower.

And lower, lower, lower still. Joel’s breaths picked up.

The car shuddered to a halt almost halfway down. You didn’t have to see his face to picture it a little more rigid than it’d been before. He’d known your dad long enough to remember the time his wife had walked out on him.

“When we were, like, thirteen—” You continued, as if you needed to remind him of any of the particulars. Joel hardly knew you back then, though, “—he was my friend. Wade’s been one of my— my closest— he was there—”

You couldn’t be sure if it was the subject of discussion or simply how close you were to cumming that kept your tongue from forming a coherent string of words, but here you were. Joel’s grip on your hand had loosened, and the movements of his hips had slowed considerably. You hoped he’d be too lost in his own pleasure to care.

“I remember,” he returned quietly.

That was all he said for a moment. Out of habit, your legs parted more for his touch, and you whimpered, feebly, as the fingers kept circling your clit. The ride started again.

“You don’t have to—” And again, his voice was low.

“I’m not saying that as an— as an excuse or anything.”

You didn’t know why you were saying it at all. You just wanted Joel to know he didn’t need to be jealous. That Wade had been a friend through a dark and bleak season of your life, and that was all it had ever, or would ever, be.

While the car was still suspended in air, and the sights below all relatively small, you got the sense you’d have to deal with this budding bliss inside you a bit quicker than anticipated. Joel was all wordless encouragement. You almost wished you could’ve seen his face as he urged you to come undone, keep making yourself feel good, that’s it, cum for me, but frankly, it was probably for the best you couldn’t look him in the eye right now. Beyond just needing release, you wanted him to see you in a more vulnerable light than you’d ever been—facing away seemed the least painful position to have that happen.

With your fingers and his still interlaced and your hips moving a little more quickly, Joel could feel your pleasure soaking his jeans, and he pulled you down closer to him.

He nudged the back of your neck with his nose. He panted against it gently, tenderly. Then he kissed it.

“Don’t need’a say anything else, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry.

Under any other circumstances, an apology from a man would have been the last thing to send you over the edge, but today, you couldn’t help it. Just as the car started up again, you hit your peak with Joel still stuffed inside you, and you gripped his hand as hard as you could. You fought to keep the moans contained behind your lips, but it was hard—and Joel’s constant, tender caresses with his lips and fingers made it that much worse. He trailed kisses down your neck and shoulder and told you gently, ‘That’s it, good girl, that’s my girl.’

My girl.

Again.

You almost didn’t mind it being said this time around.

Almost.

In truth, you didn’t have half a mind to think much of anything in that moment. You just curled your toes and pressed your back into Joel while the warm, euphoric waves coursed through you, and you let yourself be content with what he’d said. Whatever he meant by it.

In the minute that followed, you sensed he was perilously close to finishing, too. So, as soon as you’d made it down from your high—and the ride, too, was circling back and making its way through the final cycles—you crawled off of Joel. You got on your knees. For the first time in what seemed like hours, you locked eyes with him; your mouth moved lower still. You’d barely latched your lips onto the head of his cock before he was shooting off rope after rope after rope of his cum. Warmth splattered down your tongue and throat, and you swallowed it all obediently.

You didn’t need to be told when the ride was over. You heard a buzz, felt it jolt, and, unfortunately for you and Joel, your car was one of the first to be let off. You had to hurry off your knees and back into your seat, across from your panting, silver-haired friend, just seconds before the door to your left swung open. You began to stand.

Joel followed you out. His spend was still stuck to your throat in some places, the scent of his skin and his stubble and his extra heavy load all fresh to your senses. You wiped one corner of your mouth and kept walking.

And it was in this state you remained another second or two. You were just about to take your first steps off the platform, mind floating over somewhere tranquil and warm, when your thoughts were presently interrupted.

Your steps, too, were cut short. Joel had stopped you.

Then he grabbed your face, and he kissed you.

Your world froze a moment. You didn’t have time to think, or react, or even kiss him back, so you just stood there and let him hold you to him. It was over in a blink.

And one glance over Joel’s shoulder after he did it, to the ride attendant and nearly every last person in line, said they were just as stunned. Some sick, by the looks of it.

‘He’s NOT my dad!’ you wanted to yell, out of habit.

Seeing the eyes Joel had fixed on you—the smile that followed—their suspicions didn’t matter to him at all.

You walked off together, still considering those words:

My girl.

A month wouldn’t be so bad. Two was tolerable, even.

The next few hours spent with Joel made it seem like you could go a year or longer without seeing his face, and nothing between you would change too much.

He was a friend. A good friend. Not just your dad’s old companion, but your own. Whatever else was left beyond that could be explored down the road, but for now, you were content to just let him hold your hand in places you weren’t likely to be seen, and kiss you in those he hoped your dad wouldn’t be. Maybe fuck you on a ferris wheel.

At the thought of going back to college tomorrow, not seeing him again until Thanksgiving or Christmas at the earliest, you didn’t feel too sad. You did get an extra burst of yearning when Joel’s hands would find your hips and push you off to some shaded, semi-discreet area and he’d tell you, softly, ‘I don’t know what I’m gonna do without ya, kid’ before kissing you with a hunger all over again. That made you think you might miss him a little.

You’d warned him not to lie to you again. He promised he wouldn’t. You believed him, at least as far as your general mistrust of men would allow, and you had left it at that.

Now the tips of his fingers were brushing your own, and his mouth was grinning—coated in all sorts of sauces from the barbecue you two had been devouring. It was approaching six o’clock. He held the last Carolina-style pulled pork slider up to you, and you shook your head.

“I’m stuffed,” you said, pained.

Really, you were. You and Joel had decided to join in on the fair’s 25th annual BBQ and Chili Cook-off an hour ago, and now your stomachs were suffering immensely.

You made a face in disgust when he tried to push it closer, ‘Joel, I’ll projectile vomit if you don’t— don’t—’

You squealed when he leaned in, thinking he was planning to smush the patty in your face—you’d done that to him with some coleslaw not too long ago—but instead, he dropped the burger. He pressed what non-sticky parts of his hands he could get on your face and, cupping your cheeks between his palms, he kissed you.

Then he kissed you again, and again, and again.

This time, it felt more like an attack. Not an attempt at being affectionate, which he’d shown himself amply capable of all day, but really just a way to smear your lips and chin with sauce and get you extra pissed off at him.

It worked. You bit his lower lip at the last kiss.

And, instead of wincing in pain or biting you back, Joel surprised you by groaning a little bit against your mouth. His grip loosened from your face, and he leaned back.

‘Behave’ was all he said. Smirking.

If any one of Joel Miller’s quasi-fatherly lectures had ever met with success before, this would not be one of them. You only rolled your eyes and were about to reply with some variant of ‘Make me’ when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out to see the new notification.

Nothing more than a reminder to check in for your flight. But that sight also roused some awareness in you that it was just then starting to get late, and you hadn’t heard a word from your father in hours. You and Joel had been extraordinarily fortunate that day in hearing that your dad happened to run into some friends at the livestock show, and had been occupied—plastered, most likely—ever since. You hadn’t thought to question it before, just happy to have your dad out of your hair for the afternoon, but now that it was late and all the shows were long since over, you had to wonder if it wasn’t time to shoot him that text. Bring your last happy, fun-filled night with Joel for the next two months to an end, and head home.

You started to send him a message. Joel peered over your shoulder, absently wiping his hands on a napkin.

“He said he was headed over to a concert last time we talked. Some band he likes,” he hummed, “Wanna go?”

You weren’t too keen on seeing the likes of any Creed-adjacent artist your dad so loved to listen to himself, but if it gave you an excuse to stretch your time with him and Joel, you didn’t mind. You nodded, then deposited your phone back into your pocket. You were just about to stand when Joel held you back. He’d snagged your hand.

“Hang on, ya got a little—” he said, soft. Then he lifted his napkin and started wiping at the sides of your mouth. His motions had all the crude, brute force of a man who’d never wiped a person’s face before—he seemed more concerned getting the vinegar-based glaze off your cheeks than impressing you with how tender he could be—but the gesture was received well enough. For once, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes and just smiled.

“You’re taking me to the airport tomorrow, right?”

“Long as it’s alright with your dad.”

“You could spend the night, too.”

Joel paused. He flitted a look from your lips to your eyes, then, finding a sly playfulness in both, only hummed. Stopped wiping long enough to kiss you on the cheek.

“We’ll see—”

“I’ll be real good—”

“Oh, I bet you won’t.”

But by the end of it, Joel was grinning too. He didn’t protest when your lips returned the favor from his, and they left an equally sweet and clean kiss on his cheek.

He didn’t bat an eye when your hand slid up his leg either. He just squeezed yours back and helped you up.

“Gonna get me murdered, I’m tellin’ you,” he murmured in your ear as you stood, just like he’d said to you earlier.

You figured if he’d had his pick of ways to risk his life, sneaking into your room tonight wouldn’t be the worst possible option. You threw your trash away and started off for the entertainment pavilion, following the music.

It was almost like you could feel Joel contemplating whether to sling his arm over your shoulder while you walked. Not once, but twice did his fingers twitch beside him, and he looked around you both from side to side. He decided against it, at length, and contented himself instead to just nudge your elbow and tell you that he liked that dress a lot—he hoped you would wear it again.

Come up for a football game, and you might see it then, you’d urged him back. The red of your dress wasn’t quite the perfect match for your school’s hundred-year-old crimson and black color scheme, but that was alright. You’d bend the rules for him. The two of you were just approaching the outskirts of a big, noisy crowd when Joel was about to respond. Your eyes glazed over a sea of people, surprised by its size, when you cut back in:

“We’re never gonna find him in here.”

Joel assessed the crowd. Checked his phone. Heard the wail of a guitar from somewhere up at the front and instantly surmised this was a Lynyrd Skynyrd cover band—and that your dad wouldn’t leave until he’d heard every song. Silently, he kicked himself for suggesting coming to look at all. He could’ve taken you on a few more rides, filled your overstuffed belly with a little more cotton candy, popcorn, or ice cream, if you’d been up for it, but instead, you were obliged to find your old man. It wouldn’t have been awful if it wasn’t so hot and—

“Hey,” Joel broke in, before he could think.

His eyes had landed on a person—a pair—in the crowd that you hadn’t seen, and his heart clenched in his chest.

You’d barely tilted your head to him, “Yeah?”

“We should go,” he told you. He hadn’t meant for his voice to come out so rushed, or strained, but it was.

He couldn’t help it, especially when your gaze had shifted fully to him. Your eyes searched his, curious.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I…” Joel trailed off, looking around. Scrambling to procure an excuse of some kind, “I gotta…go piss.”

“Then piss. I’ll wait here,” you replied.

You didn’t get it. Really, there was no way you could. You hadn’t yet seen the short-sleeve, turquoise-colored PFG shirt at the back of the crowd, the beaming face Joel spotted above it. You hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of the man’s profile, much less the full, wide smile on his face, the beer in his hand, or the woman by his side. She was either laughing, or singing, or nudging his hip. They looked happy. And yet, you shouldn’t see it.

Joel would kiss you—that was it. It would be the riskiest thing he’d done, but at least it’d save you from seeing.

So he tried. Joel leaned in and ventured to press his lips to yours, gripping your face, but the second he did, you pushed him away. Your eyes were wide. Cheeks heating.

“What the hell, Joel?” you hissed, “Dad could be—”

Your gaze darted to the side, and then you stopped.

The eyes grew wider. Your lips stayed the course, as if to keep going, but no sound came out, and all that was left of your mouth was a round, stunned ‘o.’ You blinked, like you couldn’t believe it: the two people were kissing now.

Joel reached for your arm, but you were far too fast. You shot off to get away, toward them, and didn’t stop until you’d made it to the edge of the crowd where they stood. The music was loud, the audience was rowdy, but still, even at a distance, Joel could hear you as clear as day:

“Dad?!”

The man and the woman split as quickly as they could.

You were standing there, watching them watch you in utter shock for a second or two. Joel wasn’t counting, but he did find himself next to you before he could blink. He was reaching for your arm again, then stopping. Looking to his friend, whose gaze was plastered on his daughter with all the markings of awe. Embarrassment.

“Honey—” he started.

“What the fuck is this?”

Bad question. Terrible timing. Joel knew what it was—clearly his friend knew it too, but you weren’t supposed to find this out yourself for at least another month or two. That was what he’d told Joel back then, anyway.

“Sweetheart, this is my—this is Helen.”

You looked like you wanted to be sick.

“I know who she is!” you spat. You waved an angry, inarticulate hand in Helen’s direction. Helen looked away.

“Why don’t we go someplace quieter?” That was Joel, cutting in over the thumping bass and the strain in the air like he might’ve been a father to you himself. Wanting to shield you from what was coming next if he could help it.

Once more he reached for you, and still inflamed, you shoved him off. Your eyes were too hurt to turn away.

“What? This is y—your—” you started back, stammering.

“We were going to tell you, honey, I swear.”

In all the years he’d known him, Joel had never seen his friend look so contrite—or fucking moronic. The man had ditched his beer, was wringing his hands trying to pace a little more carefully your way while he spoke, but you weren’t having it. Or anything, really. When Joel brushed his touch against your elbow the slightest bit, about to murmur words low in your ear, like, ‘We’ll talk. C’mon,’ you’d jerked your arm away from him entirely.

He didn’t need to see your face to hear the pain in:

“Fucking stop, Joel!”

That caught your father off-guard. He didn’t hesitate before he cut back in, looking more pointedly at you.

“Hey. You don’t talk to your Uncle Joel that way,” he said, sharp. Joel winced. He went on, “I’m the one who told him not to say anything, okay? Now just calm down—”

And whatever effect his friend had intended to produce created just the opposite in you. Instead of focusing on your dad, your eyes shot to Joel, and in an instant, your body was turning. Your face was half-hatred as you did.

“You knew?!”

“Honey, I told him—” your dad tried saying.

But your look was too enraged. Your jaw was too tight. Your mouth could barely form the words you wanted to say, and your eyes were like two bloodied daggers. Joel was amazed you could speak a syllable at all, but when he heard it, he got a sense for why that was. He had to.

“You knew?”

You were hurt.

When you left, he followed. He wasn’t sure what he’d bothered saying to your father as he did, but it sounded like an excuse—‘It’s fine. I’ve got her.’ He didn’t, though. You were gone quicker than he could turn around, and by the time he’d made it far enough away from the crowd to yell your name, you were too removed to hear it. He saw the top of your head through a whole new cluster of strangers, and he yelled it again. You kept walking.

Joel was fast, but you were adept, all things considered. You slipped through the crowd with ease and gained more and more distance than he could attain in twice the time. Joel bit the inside of his cheek and kept going. He didn’t reach you until you were approaching the front gates, when he called out for you again, out of breath.

You probably wouldn’t have turned if you’d had a choice. But as it was, you were up against a bottleneck effect of more people trying to leave than the exit could fairly handle at once, and everyone at the back was at a standstill. Your jaw tightened when he said your name.

“Darlin’— hey— baby, just let me—” Joel had weaved his way around your neighbors, but the area was cramped.

You didn’t move. Your gaze was trained elsewhere.

“—explain. Let me explain, and I promise, I didn’t—”

The line shifted forward, and you moved with it. Your body was turned; while you kept walking, shuffling, Joel earned a few uneasy looks from the people around him.

“I didn’t mean—” he forged on.

But as soon as he reached for you, he knew he’d overstepped. Confirming every onlooker’s suspicion that you didn’t want to be disturbed, you snatched your arm away, and your eyes flared with anger. You faced him.

“Fuck you.”

Before he could reply:

“Leave me the hell alone, Joel.”

And, while the words were still fresh on your tongue and no one else tried stepping in themselves, you walked off.

You left him again—for what other place, Joel wasn’t sure. You just made off the other way, breezing past carts and stands and now-shuttered booths and more faces than either one of you could count. You kept walking until you found an open space a tolerable distance away from all the noise, then went further.

Your face was fixed in a hard, immutable stare when Joel approached you again. The look behind your eyes was worse; he could tell in a second you were about to cry.

“Darlin’—”

“You knew this whole time,” you said. Seething.

“I didn’t—”

“My dad’s been dating the woman he cheated on my mom with and you didn’t think to fucking tell me?!”

“I thought—”

“Not ONCE?! Huh?” you screamed it this time, “Known you my whole goddamn life and you hide that from me?”

Joel winced. He knew the tears were coming before they even filled your eyes, but the sight still made him hurt. You wouldn’t let him near you, either. You just shook your head and swallowed a lump and blinked hard, and he felt stupid. Whatever favor he’d thought he was doing your father—and you—seemed infinitely small to him now.

That knot you’d tried pushing down in your throat kept you silent for a minute. Joel opened his mouth to insert a word or two himself, but then you looked keen to keep hold of the conversation, no matter how much it hurt, and you were starting again. Blinking harder. Hating it.

“She’s the reason mama left,” you said, hoarse, “Helen was her best friend, and then she went and— and— and— fucked my dad, and because of that, I didn’t have a family for half my fucking adolescence. You knew that.”

Another beat. Joel’s own throat constricted considerably as he considered his next words, but there was no need.

“You saw how much I hated my father, and her, and myself for years, thinking there was something just…wrong with me not being enough to make her stay. And you knew all that, and you still kept it a secret from m—”

“I know, baby. I shouldn’t have kept it from you, I know.”

He’d also known your dad was in the wrong. That hadn’t stopped Joel from trying to rationalize his friend’s actions while they happened: it was a one-time hookup with Helen, then a casual, no-strings deal that the man only indulged when he was feeling extra lonely, then a thing, a relationship of two, three, six months now. Joel had known all along what kind of profound ramifications these decisions would have if you were to ever find out. But his friend wasn’t so easily swayed from old habits, and Joel couldn’t stomach having to break it to you.

Then the roadtrip from Boston happened.

You seemed to be remembering the same.

“Was fucking me a way to make yourself feel better?”

Your words had never struck Joel with more deliberateness or force. He croaked ‘No’ in a moment. You took a step back, and there came the look again—more spiteful than before and repulsed to its core.

“Is that why you offered me a ride back in the first place? Just felt guilty for all the stuff you knew my dad was—”

“No. No, no, honey, I would never, ever—”

“Then why hide it?! Why all this? Why bother?”

You gestured between his body and yours; you didn’t seem to know what you meant. Your cheeks were wet with tears. You had to scrape your palms down your face, sniffling and struggling to clear your own vision, but the efforts appeared to be in vain. You couldn’t stop crying.

“For you,” Joel said, and he hated the way his own voice was splintered. He didn’t know how to make it better, “You were off at school when it started, then— then Boston. Just thought it’d be safer…for you…for us—”

Somewhere in his brain, he’d meant to say that he didn’t want the news of your father to hurt you, or else jeopardize a shred of something Joel had had with you.

It was stupid. Your instantaneous reaction said as much.

“Us?!”

Joel blinked. The eyes across from his were alight.

“Us, Joel?! Are you fucking kidding me? There is no us.”

Their brilliance wasn’t appreciative by any means. If anything, the words made the flow of your tears even worse. You pressed your hands to your face, rubbing your cheeks and trying to shield your eyes, and saying again, ‘There is no ‘us,’ Joel, that’s not an excuse—you knew!’

With his insides in knots, Joel wanted to hold you again. You were still in pain, and your scowl wouldn’t move, and when he tried to touch you, you stepped back in disgust.

He knew better than to think he could reach you now.

“Whole thing was a mistake,” you spat, unfeeling.

“Baby—”

“You and me. Dad and Helen.”

“You don’t mean—”

“Anything you need to keep a secret probably isn’t worth keeping at all, right?” And when you said it, he could tell you’d meant it to hurt him. As if the tears and the time and the sheer resignation in your eyes didn’t say enough.

Now Joel felt an ache in his bones, worse than it’d ever been, and he still couldn’t touch you. Where the heart demanded comfort of a kind you couldn’t give, the head knew better than to ask, and his hands fell limply at his sides. He saw you cry and had only himself to blame.

You turned back to the fairgrounds’ exit. The crowd was as big as it had ever been, but anywhere away from him seemed to be as welcome as anything else, Joel guessed

He’d try something stupid. Again. Even more desperate.

Never in his life had he said the words to someone else, and he sensed it wouldn’t do a thing to change your mind right now, but he’d say it anyway. If not to extricate himself, to let you know what he felt beyond every thing that had taken place tonight. He reached for you again.

“Darlin’, I lov—”

But before the words could register with you, the simple act of pressing his fingers to yours made you blanch. You hadn’t heard him at all, and seemed only concerned with jerking yours away as fast as you could, then shrieking:

“I HATE YOU, JOEL!”

Then you choked back a sob, trained your glossy gaze on him in one last pitiless look, and left him. He didn’t move. He didn’t try to. Sights and sounds and the ground underneath him seemed apt to swallow him whole, and still, he couldn’t move an inch. Somewhere ahead of him—too serendipitous, really—he heard you call a name.

Of course, it wasn’t his. You weren’t running to him.

It wasn’t Joel in the crowd making its way out the gates. It wasn’t him standing a little ways off to the side, eyes wide and confused as he watched you rush over. Almost stumble over yourself falling into his arms and hugging him, burying your face in his chest. Joel watched it all with a raw and hollow heart and wished it were him.

But it was Wade.

Wade hugged you back and held you close, and the look on his face was too bewildered and distraught for Joel to blame him. He hadn’t been the one to hurt you. Joel had.

He watched you leave.

There was nothing more to say.

[starkeyisthelastname]

dealer!rafe x reader when he gets out of jail😵‍💫

get ready to get pounded 😜

Rafe had been in an out of jail many times, it wasn’t anything new to him. Drug trafficking, burglary charges, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder. Yet somehow him being Rafe Cameron, he got away with everything. His daddy was rich and powerful and so was he. He had the best lawyers and Ward may or may not have done some shady arrangements to always get Rafe’s charges cleared.

It was new for you though, and the last three weeks without him was starting to make you wonder if he was going to get out. You had only gotten to visit him once, wanting to cry at having to see your boyfriend wearing orange. He did make it look good though, white wife beater hung tightly against his broad chest and orange scrub pants that read Kildare County Jail in faded black letters, hugged his toned hips. He reassured you that he was fine and people knew better than to fuck with him in there.

After working some kind deal out with the DA, Rafe was a freeman again, and oh was he showing you just how much he missed you. Laid back against the king size bed, you were getting the best dick down a girl could ask for. He had had your legs bent back, knees nearly touching your chest as he pounded into you. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as the pleasure was almost too much to handle. Almost 4 weeks without sex for the both of you, and the two you had a lot of making up to do.

“Daddy…” You mewled, a kitten like whine leaving your sparkly lips as your baby pink nails dug into the expensive sheets. He felt so fucking good, quite literally fucking you numb as he fucked the built up tension after being locked in a cell surrounded by men for the last few weeks.

You felt his hand grab your chin, forcing you to bring your eyes back to him all while his thrusts continued to abuse your wanting hole. “Keep those eyes on me ma, daddy wants to see your pretty face while he fucks you.” He breathed out.

Your long lashes fluttered back open, focusing on your man. He looked too good with the pricy chain back around his neck, toned abs flexing with each thrust, his cheeks pink from the building heat he was feeling in his gut. You couldn’t help but reach out to touch him, your acrylic nails running over his muscular arms as he held your curvy hips firmly. “Missed you… missed daddy’s dick.” You mumbled, earning a small laugh above you.

Rafe looked down, watching your pretty soaked hole creaming on his dick as he slid in and out. He had never had a girl to come home to after jail, always settling for some random hook up to get his nut in. But you were his princess, the same one that had the house cleaned, fresh clothes picked out for him, a meal cooked knowing he had only been eating shitty jail food for almost a month. Here you were making love to a thug, taking his pipe like a good girl not asking him shit about what he did or the kind of person he really was. He planned on making you his wife, you just didn’t know it yet.

“What the fuck have you done to me, baby girl.” He whispered, a low groan coming from his throat as he felt you clench down onto him.

[princessbrunette]

when spoiledexgf!reader ponders on her relationship with rafe, it always come down to one thing. how on earth did they end up together in the first place? her scowl upon thinking of this would often soften into a reminiscent smile in realisation. it was his attitude that drew her in.

you remember where you were— at the county club, shock horror, and you were all alone. you weren’t in the mood to socialise that day, after one hundred things had already pissed you off you were simply there to pick up some lunch and head on home.

you frequented there, so you knew all the faces. even guys like rafe cameron, who would always stare or have something to say like you didn’t know all his tricks already. yes he was fine, but he was going to have to work a lot harder if he wanted to actually stand out.

you totter through the club in glittery sandals headed straight through to the bar where you could order your food and drink to go. you do so, and stay there whilst you wait for the order to be prepared. you’re actually lost in thought, tapping your nails on the plastic menu on the counter before you feel a big looming presence at your side.

rafe cameron leans on the counter top, already that smug little smile on his face. the one that made him look all smarmy and expensive. he’s nursing a whiskey in his hand despite the time being only along the lines of 4PM — and you move along slightly, clearing your throat. now he’s just blatantly staring at you.

rolling your eyes, you feel your lashes kiss your brows as you turn to face him. “can i help you?”

his mouth turns down in amusement as he holds his hands up defensively. “nah, just here to talk. is that… is that not okay?” he plays it off like a nice guy, but you know how fucking crazy he is. you’ve heard the tales. the future version of yourself bangs on the glass wall of the memory, begging you to just walk away.

you say nothing, turning to face the front once more. this doesn’t deter rafe from making conversation.

“y’know i uh, couldn’t help but notice how good you look today… i mean you always look fine as hell but today… mhm.” he hums, taking a sip of his whiskey and you feel him lean back just a little so he can eye you.

“thanks.” you state blankly, trying to ignore the way his special attention warmed your stomach ever so slightly. you wanted to slap yourself for being so pathetic.

“yeah… for sure.” he licks his lips before moving up alongside you to stand closer. “look, lemme get to know you, alright? i’ll take you out.” he offers.

“i have a man.” you blurt out, and it’s instantly met with a scoff that melts into a strained chuckle as he runs a hand down his face, shaking his head. oh? you blink at him. it wasn’t technically a lie. you were seeing someone, whether or not you’d call him your man was unimportant. “what?”

“nah, nothing.” he smirks, still clearly amused as the aftershock of his laugh still bubbles past his lips. “you got a man, huh? then uh, why are you here… ordering n’payin’ for your own shit?” he reaches down and gently plucks your hand off the counter, observing it. “and uh, why are your nails not done? yeah i’m not sure this guy knows what he’s doing ‘cause uh—”

you snatch your hand away, feeling your face heat as you huff. “its not your business.” you stare up at him, probably thinking you look real intimidating but those doe eyes only made you reflect the appearance of an angry little kitty-cat. you’re distracted, so when the country club worker returns with your food in its to go box, rafe maintains the eye contact with a lazy smirk, leaning over you to tap his card on the reader, paying for it.

“you’re welcome.” he states, before sliding your phone off the counter where you’d rested it and holding it out for you to take. “guess you owe me now huh? why don’t you go ahead and unlock your phone so i can put my number in there n’i’ll go ahead n’call it even. alright?” he raises his eyebrows, and you couldn’t believe it — but something about the way he was handling you made you wanna back down. submit like prey. you swallow, feeling that attitude disappearing little by little as you silently unlock your phone and hand it to him on the contact page.

he smiles, satisfied and nods before typing it in and handing it back. “text me. i’ll get you right.” he lets his lips curl up a little again, all pleased with himself as he finally steps out of your space — instantly striding off without a glance over his shoulder as he heads towards one of his friends that had just entered.

you couldn’t help your intrigue. but as the famous saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

[latenightdaydreams]

https://twitter.com/Elizabeathof/status/1786741799345656150?t=tcjcoF3QJ3RVZBD8p2GWnw&s=19

Can you write about retired Konig who now lives in the country, walk pass the wood and accidentally catch reader like the video above and...well, you know, they fuck=)))

Imagine how lucky he would feel coming across reader. Also how lucky reader would be to come across a man like König. The one man I'd be okay seeing in the woods🤭😮‍💨🐻

Retired!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, voyeurism, p in v, oral, filming

1.4k word count

🌲

Once König had turned forty-seven, he decided it was time to retire. He had put thirty years into the service. It was about time he settled down and lived life. With some of his money, he paid in full for some land out in the county. It was 20 acres with a pleasant home on it. Part of the land was a heavily wooded area. It was perfect for him to start his new life away from KorTac and being Colonel König.

Today was like any day. After König ate breakfast, he puts on his boots, and leaves out the door. It is a bright summer day, so he heads into the woods to enjoy the shade. Branches snap underneath his heavy footsteps. 

He bends down to grab a big stick, hitting it against trees as he wanders. When he’s in the woods, it’s as if he is a kid again. He approaches his favorite tree to climb when something distracts him, looking around, wondering where it’s coming from. It sounds like a woman moaning. 

He walks with soft steps, being as quiet as he can be. His eyes darte all over, searching for the sound. That’s when he spots a white car parked on the side of the road near the tree line. As he approaches, he can see a fully naked young woman; bent over with a little pink thing dangling between your legs. His cock gets hard as he watches your body shake from the pleasure you’re feeling.

As you lean against your car you moan out loud, breasts jiggling as your body jumps. You make sure the camera is picking it all up, filming it for your Only Fans account. Looking up with a flirty smile, you grasp your breast. Moans continue to spill from your lips until you turn around and see an enormous man just looking at you.

“Oh, my god!” You jump, eyes wide as you look at the man.

König steps forward slightly, but still gives you space. “It’s okay.” His eyes are taking in your figure. “What are- why are you doing this here?”

“I’m filming…for Only Fans…” You slowly pull the vibrator out.

“What is that?” König doesn’t go online much and is out of the loop.

“Um…porn.” A small chuckle leaves your lips.

A heavy blush fell on König’s cheeks as he heard you film porn. “Oh, well then. I’m sorry to have interrupted.” His eyes gloss over your body once more. “Be safe out here.”

You look up at him, his eyes gazing into yours for a moment. He is a huge, older man. Good looking… it would be risky, but you’re filming porn, right? Might as well make it interesting.

“Excuse me, sir?” You call out as he walks away from you. 

“Hm?” König turns to face you again.

“What’s your name?” 

“I’m König. And you are?”

“I’m y/n. I was wondering if…” Your eyes drop from his icy blue to see the erection straining against his pants. “You’d like to film with me?”

König stood there appearing stoic when inside his heart began to beat 100mph. “Film?”

“Yeah, like sex. Of course, if you don’t want to-”

“I do.” He quickly cuts you off. 

You smile, turning to your car to go into your glove box. Pulling out a condom you turn back to face König. He nods and grabs it from you, looking slightly nervous. You walk to him and begin to reach for his belt buckle.

“Is this okay?” You ask in a low sensual voice.

“Ja…” He watches as your small hands work on his pants and pull them down. A cocky smirk appears on his lips as he sees your reaction to the size of his dick. Your eyes go wide as you kneel before him with his cock in your face. 

Grasping it, you begin to stroke him gently. König lets out a sigh and looks down at you, caressing the back of your head as he gently pushes your head closer to his cock. You open your mouth and accept him in. Sucking on the tip as you continue to stroke him. König looks up into your car to see the camera recording. Feeling instantly bashful, he looks back down at you.

Slowly you lower your head down onto the shaft of his cock, beginning to gag yourself on his length. König lets out a soft groan, lightly pushing you down so you can go farther before pulling your head back by your hair. You look up at him with a string of spit connected from your bottom lip to his cock, a smile on your beautiful lips.

You slowly open the condom and hold it up to his cock, rolling it down his shaft. Both of you share a deep gaze as you do. 

“Are you ready?” 

König nods in response, watching you stand up from the floor. You barely come up to his chest, you’re so short. Turning around, you position yourself so that you’re leaning on to the car, ass sticking out. König’s big hands slide down your thigh to hold behind your knee, lifting your right leg so the camera can get a better view. 

With his free hand, he grasps his cock and pulls the condom down a little more. He rubs it against your wet pussy before thrusting forward, pushing his cock inside. Once his head slips in, you ball your hands up into a tight fist, looking back at him as he pushes in two more inches. 

“Oh fuck, your cock is so big.” You moan. 

König’s pupils fully dilated as he looks at you. Feeling your tight cunt struggle to take him as you give him those eyes is all too much. His other hand moves to your hips, holding it firmly as he pushes his cock the rest of the way in. Your walls flutter around him, being stretched like never before. 

He begins to roll his hips forward at a quicker pace; his pants falling down from his thighs to his ankles. Small grunts leave his lips as his eyes fall to the way your ass bounces off of him with every thrust.

Lost in the moment he drops your leg. Pausing his thrust to pull his shirt off, revealing his strong body. His skin pale and covered in scars, his body solid like rock from all the years in the military. The flesh on his stomach is a little softer now that he’s retired, making him look desirable. 

König returned his hands to your hips and began to thrust into you at a rapid pace. The sound of his hips slamming into your plump ass echoing around you. He lets out an animalistic groan as his hand comes down and slaps your ass hard.

The feeling of his cock fully shoving into you, hitting your cervix, made you bend over more. Standing was becoming harder as you couldn’t keep up with his pace. Slowly you lean into the open car door. The camera capturing your face contorted in pleasure as you moan out, reaching behind you to hold his arm as he fucks you so ruthlessly. 

“I’m going to cum!” You shout as your head drops, the camera picking up the ripples of your ass as König holds it up for him to fuck.

“Cum on my fucking cock.” He growls.

Your tight walls flutter again on his cock and squeeze him. König’s head drops back and lets out a loud moan. “Perfect!” 

Once you’ve calmed down, he quickly pulls out and flips your body over in the seat. Leaning in, he licks both of your nipples before lightly biting one. He pulls away, slapping his cock on your swollen clit. Rubbing it back and forth quickly as your leg’s twitch. You reach behind you and grab the camera, holding it for a better view.

As you hold the camera to your pussy, he slips his cock back inside of you. Lifting your legs up and to the side, so he can push all the way in. When he feels something suddenly change. The heat and wetness of your tight little cunt feel 1,000x better. Looking down he can see the base of the condom with scrunched up rubber around it. This is when he realized the condom broke. 

In a split second he decided that he didn't care. He wasn’t going to pull out or stop fucking this pussy. Little did you know about König, he hasn’t had sex in a very long time, years actually. He has all this pent-up sexual energy and he plans on getting it all out on you. It's not every day a beautiful young woman readily offers themselves to you.

[milla-frenchy]

Imagine Tommy pussing you off so go find Joel, Joel fucks you, you call Tommy and put it on voicemail so he can here you screaming Joel’s name

Does Joel put on a show? Does Tommy jerk off ti the sound? Does Joel get mad at you for getting him involved in this and and and and-

Mood board @aurorawritestoescape 😍🤌 (pic for mood only)

0k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist Warnings: 18+ mdni. Infidelity, masturbation (m), degradation, piv, creampie. No age specified

a/n: @romanarose I changed a little part of your ask, hope you’ll like what I imagined 🙏 @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing 💕😘

***********

Joel was not particularly a good man. His sense of morality was questionable. It always had been, and that would probably never change. So when you knocked on his door to complain about Tommy after he ended up at Travis County for what seemed like the 100th time, Joel didn't think it could be a bad idea to let you in.

When you sat on the couch and told him that Tommy had hit on a waitress in a bar, and that her boyfriend had beaten him up before the two of them were taken away by the cops, he didn't even hide his smile. His brother had always been a loser, and that wasn't going to change any time soon.

“I’m so tired of his shit, Joel. How many times have I got him out of prison? And he was flirting with another girl. Again. I wonder if he fucked that one, too.”

And that’s how you ended up in Joel’s bed, legs spread, his cock pounding your cunt hard and fast, eyes fixed on your dripping hole, that was covering him in white.

When you got a call later that evening, your head was buried in a pillow and Joel was gripping your hips. You didn't even check who was calling you.

When your phone rang again the next day, Joel’s cock was buried balls deep in your core. And when he saw his brother's name on your phone, he told you to pick up. You were still pissed off and didn’t hesitate, putting the call on speaker just as Joel started fucking you again. Your moans were the only sounds that came out of your mouth.

“Uh, babe? What the hell is going on?”

“You broke your toy, little bro. Now I’m fixin’ it… oh fuck, that pussy’s so fuckin’ tight...”

“The fuck? Joel?! Babe, is that a fuckin’ joke?”

Joel was fucking you so good, spreading your walls around his cock and perfectly hitting your g spot, that you didn’t even bother to answer Tommy.  Besides, Joel was dealing with him perfectly.

“You didn't tell me she was so good at takin’ a cock. Suckin’ it too. Blew my load down her throat this morning. Been fuckin’ her all night, shit…”

“Fuck, baby? Why are you doin’ this to me?”

“Well, I think it has something to do with the other women you’re banging, jackass...” 

“Oh fuck, baby, come on… You know I love you, right?”

“Oh, shit. She’s suckin’ me in, Tommy. She’s squeezing my fuckin’ cock so tight…”

Joel knelt between your thighs, one hand gripping your waist, fucking you as if you were a rag doll. Rubbing your clit with his thumb, spitting on it for Tommy to hear. His brother was no longer talking, and you only heard his breathing. More and more unsteady.

Joel sneered and said “Jesus Christ, Tommy, you’re jerking off, hearing me fuck your girlfriend?”

You let out a moan that wasn't just from Joel's cock and finger.

“Gonna fill her up soon. Hope she’s on the pill or something, or we’ll have some weird family lunch, lil’ bro...”

You heard Tommy grunt, and the fist clenched on his cock sped up his movement. You could hear the fap fap fap as clearly as if he had been in the same room as you. Watching Joel railing you.

“Shit Tommy, you’re such a loser. Ya gonna fuck her through my cum tonight, uh? She’s so full of me, man…”

“Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna come…”

“Yeah? Ya want your toy back after I fixed it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Baby, wanna fuck you… want you to be full of me too. Please? Please, baby. Lemme fuck you tonight.”

“Tommy…oh, fuck, Joel is fucking me so good… I’m gonna come on your brother’s cock… again.”

“Fuck, fuck. Yeah, keep talkin’ to me like that.”

“He made me cum so many times since yesterday, you know… Oh, god… His cock is so thick, baby…”

“Shit, oh….oh fuck I’m gonna…ah fuuuuuuuck.”

Tommy shot his load onto your bed and on his fist, and you came hearing his moans, clenching on Joel’s cock. He told you “what a good girl you were, taking his big cock so good” until he filled your cunt already full of his spend. You heard Tommy panting over the phone. “Get your ass over here and fuck her in my bed. And when you’ll stick your dick in her cunt, your cock will be soaked in my cum.And I bet you’ll cum in 5 seconds, little bro. Like a damn loser.”

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Kinktober Day 4 - Hate Sex

Sanemi X Fem!Giyuu

A/n: Ngl, this is one of my favorite stories i've written for kinktober. I need to write hate sex more often, it is so fun! Also sorry for the radio silence on here, I've moved to a new county so XD A touch busy with life. But anyway, enjoy!

Gluck glurck gluck.

Sanami laughed as the filthy sounds echoed throughout the air, tossing his head back as he took pleasure in the situation. He always loved it when he won the bet, his pride swelling as he got the bratty woman to submit to him.

Giyuu was between his legs, her pretty pink lips stretched around his cock, a blush on her face as she deep-throated him. His cock was drenched in her saliva, dripping down his balls and making a mess of the mattress he was reclined on, but Sanemi didn’t mind. Was it truly a good fuck session if the sheets didn’t need changing after? Leaving her dressed in only her panties and her top, he got quite the view from where he sat, her perky ass perched up in the air as she bent on her knees to suck him off. He was completely naked, enjoying the power as he got to order her around the whole night.

The black haired woman glared up at him as she heard him laugh, her blue eyes would have been intimidating were it not for her dilated pupils. She pulled off of his cock, a string of saliva connecting his cockhead to her lips for a second before it broke apart. “Don’t act so fucking smart.” She said, cursing at him even as she jerked his cock up and down. “Why not?” Sanemi retorted, always enjoying when Giyuu was a mouthy brat at him, “Actually, be a good girl and remind me what the price of winning the bet it?” She simply clicked her tongue, averting her gaze from his prideful smirk. But of course, Sanemi wasn’t going to just let her be. His hand shot out to grip her face, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips to pout, making her face him. “I asked you a question.” The man growled, pressing on her face tighter, “Where’s my fucking answer?” Giyuu whined, trying to break away from his grip but failing. She huffed, the action looking quite adorable with her pouty face, before she answered:

“Whoever kills the most demons submits to the other for a day.”

“Exactly.” Sanemi said, pushing her face a bit as he let go, “Now enough with the attitude and get back to sucking.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And I’m going to fuck yours with no lube if you keep running that mouth of yours.”

 With another click of the tongue, Giyuu once again placed her mouth on his cock, Sanemi tossing his head back as she started taking him in again. He got comfortable against the headboard, his hand coming up to grab the base of her ponytail, ignoring her whine of protest as he helped her deep throat his cock once more.

He disliked Giyuu the second he met her. Sure, she might have been a Hashira for a bit longer than him, but her high and mighty attitude mixed her with a sarcastic tongue quickly put her on his shit list. Sure, he might have thought she was beautiful, with her dark raven, spikey hair put up in a ponytail and her deep, blue eyes but her looks weren’t enough for Sanemi to like her. And it was no surprise that she wasn’t quite fond of him either.

Giyuu disliked Sanemi the second she met him. Not only did he snap at Ubuyashiki, but he was also violent, loud and had a short temper- all attributes that she did not have the patience to deal with. Sure, she thought he was handsome, his stark white hair and his piercing eyes which she found to be attractive rather than scary and not to mention the scars on his toned body that made him even more manly- but his looks weren’t enough for Giyuu to like him. And she didn’t care that he disliked her too.

But it was after a drunken night where everyone was tipsy from the alcohol, that their little bet first came to fruition. The rest of the Hashira were either passed out or flat out drunk, Sanemi and Giyuu being one of them. With one brash insult after another, the two of them were close to fist fighting were it not for Uzui stopping them:

“Shame on you, Sanemi!” the man said, loud and drunk, his words slurring, “No man should ever- ever fight a woman!”

“She’s not a woman.” Sanemi responded with a sneer, “She’s a rabid bitch!”

“And you’re a pissy little cow who throws a temper tantrum every time something doesn’t go your way.” Giyuu retorted, “even babies are more mature than you are.”

“The fuck did you say?!”

“Now, now.” Uzui said, trying to calm them down by ruffling both of their heads, “let’s not fight. Both of you are frustrated with each other and there’s a very simple way to resolve this tension.” He paused, making sure both of them were listening before he continued:

“You just have to fuck it all out.”

“What?” Giyuu asked, “HUH?!” Sanemi barked.

“You two always butt heads and it can be solved if you just fuck.” Uzui continued, taking another shot, “Trust me, a long night of rough sex is the perfect remedy.”

“Hah! Like I’d ever sleep with this pig.” Giyuu snapped, “I bet he’s not even good in bed.”

“Please- My dick works just fine as long as I’m sleeping with a beautiful woman and not some witch that was fished out of a well!”

And thus, the bet was born. Whoever got the most kills on a mission would be in charge in the bedroom and fuck the other however they please. Sanemi won the first round and he couldn’t be happier rubbing it in her face, the man going wild as he fucked her, insults and curses spewing from both their mouths. It was a fun and intense night but it proved Uzui wrong. It didn’t resolve anything- but rather- made them even more competitive.

 Giyuu demanded a rematch. Which she won. So Sanemi demanded a rematch but Giyuu won again. So he demanded another. And then she demanded another. And she wanted a rematch after that one and well- now they’re here.

“Fuck yeah,” Sanemi growled, fucking Giyuu’s face mercilessly, his hips leaving the mattress to fuck into her mouth, “That’s it- take it- take it you nasty bitch!”

Giyuu couldn’t even glare at him, her eyes watering as his cock slid down her throat over and over again, her gagging adding more pleasure. His grip on her hair was unrelenting, using her mouth like a toy as he mercilessly pounded into her, his balls slapping against her chin. Giyuu assumed she’d be used to the sensation considering the number of blowjobs she’d given the man but, apparently not. Sanemi had a deliciously big cock (not that she’d ever tell him that) with a long, thick shaft and an angry red head with heavy balls. The first time she saw him, hard and dripping with pre-cum, she had to try her very best to not look fazed, lest the man get an ego about it.

“G-Gonna cum!” Sanemi moaned, tossing his head back, eyebrows furrowed as he felt the tell-tale signs of an orgasm rush over him, “Swallow every drop like you fuuuucking love it!”

Giyuu groaned around him and that just increased the pleasure, his balls clenching as he got ready to unload. A couple more thrusts and a loud shout later, Sanemi climaxed. He moaned loudly, toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of his head as he came, pulling at Giyuu’s ponytail and keeping her flush against his abdomen. Cock shoved deep, deep down her throat, her fingernails digging into his thighs, Giyuu gagged around Sanemi’s cock as he came. Rope after rope of cum shot down her mouth, her throat constricting around him with each gulp, the man so far down she could barely taste him.

His balls throbbed with each pump, Sanemi lightly rolling his hips against her as he milked his dick for every drop, letting out a satisfied sigh as he watched the woman take him so perfectly. “There we go…that’s it…yeah, you fucking love it~”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Sanemi eventually let go of her hair, strands of it having been pulled out of her ponytail. She gently detached herself for his cock, leaving behind a sloppy, slobbered on mess.  His dick was still hard, needing several rounds before it went limp thanks to his line of business and the stamina he built. Not that Giyuu was complaining of course.

“So full of yourself.” She teased, giving him another eye roll. “Oh yeah? Then maybe don’t enjoy it so much.” Sanemi retorted. “You think I’m enjoying this?”  “I do. But please, take those panties off and prove me wrong.”

Giyuu pouted, knowing full well that her panties were drenched, her pussy dripping. Sanemi laughed, giving her a light pat on the face, “That’s what I fucking thought. Now show me those tits.” Still pouting, Giyuu straightened up and sat on her heels, fingers getting to work on her uniform. Sanemi continued to recline against the headboard and enjoyed the view, peeks of her skin getting revealed as she unbuttoned her top. So many people in the corp were head over heels for Mitsuri, Sanemi having to scare of many a perverts to keep the pink haired woman safe as the Love Hashira was too nice to actually hurt humans. But he always thought people were blind for not realising just how sexy Giyuu was.

An ample chest, toned body with beautiful curves and a nice ass- she was stunning. Not that he’d tell her that, of course.

“You’re staring like an old pervert.” Giyuu said once she tossed her top and bra aside, her bare breasts out for Sanemi to enjoy as she crawled towards him, already knowing what he wanted. “Yeah, well.” The man said, eyes indeed glued to her breasts, plump with cute, pink nipples that were already hard as she sat on his lap, straddling him, “You’re good for something.”

“I can say the same thing about you.” Giyuu said, grinding her panty covered pussy against his cock, making him hiss at the sensitivity. He smacked her ass harshly, making her gasp from the contact, the pain getting dulled as he grabbed a handful of the cheek he just spanked, groping it like a toy. Two fingers slipped into the fabric of her panties, caressing her soft skin, inching closer and closer to her wetness. Deciding that he wanted boobs more than to retort, he simply ignored her comment in favour of opening his mouth and sealing his lips against the tit that was right in front of his face.

Giyuu bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from moaning, refusing the let Sanemi know just how sensitive her breasts were- or rather- just how good he made her breasts feel. The way he sucked at her nipple was addicting, his hot tongue running over the hard bud in circles before flicking it mercilessly, each flick making her body shudder. Her hands ran up his shoulders to clutch at his hair as he suckled on a nipple, his long eyelashes tickling her skin as she grabbed onto fistfuls of his silver locks.

“’Not enjoying this’ my ass.” Sanemi growled as he pulled away from her nipple with a pop before running his tongue over her breasts to make his way to the other bud, “I’m not even touching your pussy but I can feel how wet you are.”

“Sh-shut up- ah!” Giyuu gasped as he licked at her other nipple, giving it a gentle nibble before wrapping his lips around it and suckling harshly. All the while, without her knowing about it, her hips were grinding against him, her body aching for pleasure. She hated that he could see right through her, but she did get turned on by sucking his cock. No- she was turned on the second he got her in his room. Pushing her in, ordering her to strip while he took his clothes off- the passionate way he kissed her before pushing her onto the bed-

“Sa-aah-nemi.” She called out with a gentleness he rarely heard from her, the woman tugging at his hair, “I- fuck- I want a kiss.”

“Hmm? What was that?”

“Y-You heard me, asshole.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” He sucked on her nipple again, ignoring her request entirely which made her groan in frustration. “Fuck- fine- I- I want a kiss.” Giyuu relented. “You want to kiss me?” Sanemi asked, flicking her nipple with his tongue and loving the way she jumped. “Y-Yes. I do.”  “Then kiss me, bitch.”

He grabbed her by the back of her head and roughly pulled her down, making Giyuu yelp at the sudden movement. He crashed his lips against hers, immediately slipping his tongue in and swallowing her little moans. He loved it when he got her like this. Needy and desperate with just enough attitude to make things fun. She moaned against him as he continued to grope her butt, her pussy grinding against his cock shamelessly, her cute whines for more was music to his ears.

“Ah-ah!” she squealed, feeling dizzy as Sanemi’s hand slipped into her panties just as he started biting her tongue. She could feel him snicker as his rough, thick fingers touched her bare pussy, the sound of his digits rubbing against her wetness already loud. He rubbed at her clit, giving it quick strokes before rubbing rough yet slow circles on her sensitive bud. Oh he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on it, but that would come later. For now, he wanted to move on with the main course.

Giyuu pulled away from the kiss to moan, overwhelmed by the sensations as Sanemi suddenly slipped two fingers inside her, her pussy so wet he didn’t need to work up from one. He watched as she rested her head against his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around her waist as he fingered her open, her juices dripping down his hand.

But he wasn’t going to let her off that easily.

“What was it you did the last time you won?” Sanemi asked, a knowing smirk on his face as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, “Oh, that’s right. You tied me up, rode my cock and came over and over again- but you didn’t let me cum even once.”

“That’s-“

“And what was it you called me? Your personal dildo?”

“Uh-“

“Now, convince me.” Sanemi said, stopping his fingers as he looked up at her, nudging her so she’d move her head from his shoulder, “Why should I let you cum, hmm? Right now, you’re my personal pussy and do toys deserve to feel good?”

Giyuu bit her tongue before an insult could escape, Sanemi’s hand on her hip preventing her from grinding against his fingers. If she wanted release, she’d…have to submit.

“I-If you let me cum- I’ll let you cum inside me.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

She mewled as Sanemi started to lightly thrust his fingers, not moving enough to truly give her pleasure, but enough to remind her of her fingers stretching her pussy and that his cock would feel even better.

“Y-You can fuck my ass?”

“I think you’d enjoy that more than I will.”

She bit her lower lip, gnawing at it before she threw away her pride and said:

“Th-Then…the next time we bet…we’ll consider you the winner.”

Sanemi raised an eyebrow, a smile on his face, “Three times.”

“Two. Take it or leave it.”

“Oh, you think you’re in a position to negotiate?” Sanemi asked, curling his fingers just right inside her, hitting her g-spot and making her gush like a fountain.

“F-Fine! Three times! The next three bets- you’re the winner.”

“You better not fucking forget it!”

Taking his fingers out of her, Sanemi pushed her, both of them tumbling into a new position. Giyuu grunted as her back met the mattress, her legs spread wide for the white-haired man to tower over her. His hands grabbed at her panties and pulled them apart, ripping them like paper. She had to remember to chastise him for ruining another pair of her undergarments but for now, she was too desperate to care.

Sanemi licked his lips as he grabbed her legs and spread her apart even more, his dick twitching with excitement as he gazed at her pussy. Perfect, juicy and oh so fuckable, he had spent many an hour eating her delicious cunt and even more time stuffing his cock inside it. He gripped at his member, giving it a few tugs before he placed it at her entrance. Giyuu watched, excited as both of them didn’t care for words anymore.

She gasped as he started to push in, his fat cock splitting her apart deliciously. She’d never get used to his girth inside her and Sanemi would never get used to her tightness. He grit his teeth to stop himself from moaning as he pushed inside her, her pussy so wet the glide was smooth and so, so deliciously hot. Eventually, he bottomed out, both of them gasping and panting like virgins doing it for the first time.

Seeing Sanemi on top of her, the mans face flushed red and eyebrows furrowed, clearly overtaken by pleasure was a sight for sore eyes. Sure, it was fun seeing his hungry expression as she ordered him to eat out her ass or the frustrated look in his eyes as she rode him without giving him release- but she might enjoy this a bit more. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, pushing him even deeper inside her and making both of them moan as his cock touched the entrance of her womb, her body aching for more.

And more he was going to give.

With a grunt, Sanemi started to thrust, muscles tightening as he worked his body the way he knew she liked. With her gummy walls milking him, he rolled his hips against her, smirking triumphantly as she let out a sweet moan, letting him know he found her g-spot. Aiming for that spot inside her, he picked up the pace, snuggling his face into her neck as he fucked her- no- as they made love. “S-Sanemi- Sanemi!” Giyyu screamed, balls slapping against her as he pounded into her, his cock leaving her breathless, “Yes- yes- oh yes!” “Yeah, scream for me baby~” Sanemi cooed, not missing the way her pussy tightened around him as he called her the adoring nickname, “Milk my cock like a goooood fucking girl~ You like my cock? Hmm? Oh, you love it, don’t you?”

Ever defiant, Giyuu shook her head, making him laugh out loud but this time, she laughed with him, even if her laugh was jumpy due to the force of his thrusting. “Th-there’s n-no way your c-cock will- oh fuck- hnng- make me feel g-good!” “No way huh?” Sanemi asked with a snicker, knowing the woman was full of shit, “Then should I stop?” “No!” Giyuu protested, eyes wide as she wrapped her arms around his tighter, “No- No please-“

“Then beg me for it.” Sanemi snarled, looking her right in the eye, sweat dripping down his brow as he continued with his pace, “And- fuck me- apologize.”

“I-I’m sorry for l-lying.” Giyyu said, tears in her eyes over the pleasure, feeling his cock throb inside her, “I want you- I want your cock to f-fuck me silly!”

“Good girl~” Sanemi pepper her cheek with a few kisses before he took her lips again, picking up the pace of his thrusting. Giyuu dug her nails into his back, leaving behind bright red marks- scars that he’d wear with pride. There was no more talking- just lust. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, of moans, of cries and of kisses, both of them going dizzy from their desires.

“G-Gonna cum!” Giyyu whined, panting heavily, feeling like she wasn’t taking enough air into her lungs from how much Sanemi had ruined her. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was him. “Me too!” Sanemi said, his hips almost a blur with how passionately he was pounding her pussy. He was determined to make her unable to walk tomorrow, “Fuck- fuck! Cum around my cock, baby~”

“Cum inside me!” Giyuu begged, tossing her head back as her tits bounced up and down, Sanemi occasionally taking a greedy grope, “Want you- inside me.”

“Fuck- cumming!”

“Cumming- cumming!!”

With a scream, the two of them climaxed simultaneously. Giyuu screamed, eyes rolling to the back of her head and her back arching in a perfect ‘C’. Her muscles tensed and her toes curled, her legs shooting out straight and her fingers digging even harder into Sanemi’s back. Her orgasm hit her like a truck, taking away her breath as all she could do was cry and moan, her body trembling like a leaf. She giggled happily as she felt him cum inside her, pumping her womb with his seed. He filled her up deliciously, Sanemi always cumming gallons. He came and came, filling her up so much she felt him spill out a bit. Sanemi wasn’t any better. The man bit into Giyuu’s neck, marking her as he moaned into her skin, the slightly pain turning into her pleasure. His balls clenched as he shot out ropes of thick, hot cum into her eager cunt, filling up her baby maker. Was it risky? Absolutely. Was it fun? Absolutely.

 Would Sanemi be upset if he got her pregnant? Absolutely not.

His body tightened, his muscles spasming as he came, hugging her tightly as he rolled his hips, pumping every last drop inside her of her, refusing to let any of it go to waste. Eventually, both of them came down from their highs, Sanemi completely collapsing on top of her once they were done cumming. Giyuu winced at the pain on her neck, grateful that the uniform would cover it up but that was a problem for future Giyuu. For now, she simply caressed Sanemi’s hair, his cock still stuffing her cunt as they returned back to Earth.

“That was…fuck…” Sanemi said, voice slightly muffled.

“That was great.” Giyuu agreed, pressing a kiss to his head.

“…finally got you to admit it.”

“I didn’t admit shit.”

“So you don’t want me to fuck your ass?”

“…I didn’t say that.”

“Of course not.”

[wheels-of-despair]

It's a Wonderful Life (Even in Hawkins) Pairing: Eddie Munson x Evil Woman Summary: What would the lives of Eddie Munson's loved ones look like if he didn't exist? Contains: A bad night for all, a violent outburst, regrets, a bitchy ghost, a peek into another life, a Christmas party, a happy ending. Words: 5k

(This is inspired by It's a Wonderful Life. There are mentions of suicide and visions of a dark world without Eddie Munson. Takes place sometime after graduation.)

Eddie Munson can't wait for the worst night of his life to be over.

He screeches to a stop in front of the garage Corroded Coffin "practices" in and leaps out of the driver's seat, ready to get the band and all their shit out of his van and out of his sight.

"Well that was fucking embarrassing," Gareth grumbles, rolling out the back doors with an armload of equipment.

"We might as well have played kazoos," Jeff adds, yanking out his guitar case.

"Never showing my face in public again," Grant whines, joining the unloading parade.

Eddie fumes and slams the back doors shut. Well, he tries. Instead of latching, they bounce and fly back at him. He gets it on the second, slightly-less-violent, try.

Corroded Coffin just opened for a band from two towns over that people actually show up for. Someone from a record label was in the building. This was supposed to be their shot at getting noticed by someone who mattered. They were supposed to rock everyone's socks off. But no. They played the worst show of their stupid little lives. Even Wayne, who hardly ever got to see them play, looked horrified at the shit-tastic show they put on.

His girl leans against the side of the van, next to the busted taillight that earned him a ticket from that asshole Callahan on the way to the show. Not even she can pretend Corroded Coffin didn't suck a fat one tonight. There's pity in her eyes, and it makes Eddie even madder. He turns and directs his rage at the band, not wanting to crack under her annoying gaze.

"See you dicks around," Eddie snaps. "Since there's no point in ever fucking practicing again."

"C'mon, man," whines Gareth.

"What about the Henderson's Christmas party?" asks Grant.

"At least we can go drown our sorrows in cocoa," Jeff sighs.

They just bombed so hard, they'll probably never be allowed to perform in the tri-county area ever again. Their careers are over before they even started. And they're worried about a shitty little Christmas party thrown by Dustin's mom?

Eddie Munson is mad at himself for being a failure. Mad at his woman for feeling sorry for him. Mad at his dumb band for sucking ass. Mad at the Hendersons for scheduling a party and being a distraction on a night this important. Mad at Wayne for not coming on one of the nights they actually sounded good. Mad at the world for giving him a sliver of hope and snatching it away just when he thought he had a chance of making it big and getting out of Hawkins Fucking Indiana.

He needs to get out of here. Right now. He turns with the intention of stomping to the driver's side door and driving off like a bat out of hell, but she's blocking his way.

"Baby, it's not the end of the world," she says calmly, putting a hand on his chest. The act breaks a barrier and unleashes his barely-contained rage. He smacks her hand away, maybe a little harder than he meant to, and her eyes widen in shock.

"What would you fucking know about it?" Eddie seethes. He can feel the blood boiling and the vein pulsating in his neck. He can't stop. The words keep coming, and Eddie closes in on her. She shrinks. "You've never had a fucking dream! You've never wanted something more than this shitty little life in this shitty little town! I'm sick of you fucking holding me back!"

"Shut the fuck up, man!" Gareth yells, stepping between them and giving Eddie a shove backwards.

"Oh, now you react to something on time?" Eddie laughs cruelly.

There's a blinding flash of pain, and Eddie's suddenly staring to the side. He slowly swivels his head back to Gareth, standing in front of him with balled fists and a red face. Eddie's jaw throbs. Did his own drummer just punch him in the face?

He attacks.

Grant and Jeff are on them in an instant, trying to get Eddie and Gareth apart. Everything becomes a blur of grunts and blows until Jeff gets Eddie's arms behind him and drags him out of the open garage door.

"Cool off, man!"

This isn't how tonight was supposed to go. He was supposed to be signing a contract and sipping spiked cocoa and eating cookies. Kissing his girl under the mistletoe and promising her a mansion in Beverly Hills. Celebrating his talent and good fortune with everyone he loves. Instead, he's standing outside a cold garage, staring at the disappointed faces of all the people he let down.

A sniffle draws his eyes to his girl. His Evil Woman. The love of his fucking life. The look in her teary eyes makes his insides turn to ice. He hit her. He yelled at her, and he fucking hit her. He takes a step closer, wanting to hug her and tell her that he didn't mean it.

She flinches.

She's scared of him.

He's just like his old man.

Eddie climbs in the van without another word. He doesn't know where he's going, but he knows he can't stay here.

He speeds and spirals and re-lives the worst night of his life over and over. It takes him several miles of squinting into the dark to realize his headlights aren't even on. When the van finally comes to a stop, he's at the quarry. He doesn't know why he came here. But by the time he turns off the ignition, he's exhausted from beating himself up.

He slides down from the driver's seat and walks to the edge of the cliff, kicking rocks as he goes. Each breath sends out so much fog, it looks like he's smoking. A smoke would be nice. That'd take the edge off. He pats his pocket for his pack and pulls it out. Empty. Of course.

He tosses the empty pack over the edge and leans over just a little bit, hoping to see it fall. The darkness swallows the little white box almost immediately. It's a long way down. The only light comes from the moon, and it reflects on the still water below like glass. It's both beautiful and unsettling.

The cold starts to seep into his bones, but he welcomes the ache. He deserves it. Eddie sits near the edge, sighing and looking up at the starry sky, wondering how the fuck his friends are ever going to forgive him for this.

Maybe they weren't really that bad. Maybe they tried their best. Maybe he put too much pressure on the younger guys. Maybe the person from the record company didn't even come. Maybe the band that they opened for sucked too, and they could all chalk this horrible evening up to bad acoustics.

Maybe Eddie hadn't just ruined all of the most important things in his life in the course of one night.

His heart hurts at the thought of what he said to his girl, whose only crime was caring about him. Holding him back? Where the fuck did that come from? It's all a little fuzzy, now that he thinks about it.

Eddie touches his swollen jaw and winces. Little Drummer Boy packs a hell of a punch.

He fucking deserves this pain.

Eddie pulls his knees to his chest and hunches over, curling into a ball near the edge of the quarry cliff.

He wishes he hadn't blown up and said those awful things to the person he loves most. He wishes he hadn't forced his friends to practice until their fingers bled. He wishes he'd never begged (and traded a considerable amount of weed) for the chance to play a three-song opener for some douchebag band from the city. He wishes he hadn't turned into a total cunt the second he saw a chance to live out his stupid teenage dream of becoming a rock star.

Hell, why stop there?

Eddie Munson wishes he'd never even been born.

"Don't even think about it, asshole," a voice rumbles from behind him.

Eddie turns, surprised that he let someone sneak up on him. A guy really lets his guard down when he's got nothing left to lose.

An ass thumps against a rock nearby and Eddie squints at the silhouette in the moonlight. That curly hair looks familiar, but he doesn't know for sure who it is until the stranger takes a drag off a cigarette and his face is illuminated by the burning cherry.

"Hargrove?"

"Knew you couldn't be as stupid as everyone said you were." Eddie can't see the smirk, but he can hear it.

"Not a good time, Hargrove," Eddie sighs. "Don't have anything on me."

"I'm not here for drugs, dumbass," Billy says, taking another drag. "I'm here to save your eternal soul or some shit."

"Sounds like you've already been into the good stuff tonight," Eddie deadpans.

"Nobody ever fuckin' believes me," Billy groans, staring upward and blowing a long stream of smoke into the air before turning his intense gaze to Eddie. "Listen up, dickhead. You fucked up, you hurt people, you wished you were never born, et cetera. I was sent here to show you the error of your ways or whatever. Let's take a little trip."

"What is this, like a Christmas Carol thing?" Eddie snorts. "What are you on, man? I want some."

Billy sighs and flicks his cigarette out over the water. He stands and stares at Eddie, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Let's go, fuckface," Billy orders.

"I'm not going anywhere with your stoned ass," Eddie laughs, trying to pretend he's not a tiny bit afraid.

Billy stomps over and grabs Eddie's jacket and hauls him to his feet with surprising strength. Maybe he was right to be scared.

"Woah, calm down, Ghost of Christmas PCP," Eddie snarks, sounding braver than he feels.

"I said, let's go," Billy repeats, dragging Eddie backward. Eddie tries to dig in his heels and resist, but his sneakers slip and slide on the loose gravel.

"Where are we going?" Eddie asks, his ears beginning to ring.

A blinding flash of light makes him cover his eyes, and when he lowers his arm and opens them, he's standing in front of Wayne's trailer. The glow of a street lamp shows more of Billy's face than Eddie has seen tonight. He stares at Eddie through unblinking, half-lidded eyes. Eddie doesn't like it. Not one bit.

"Kay, thanks for bringing me home, I owe you one," Eddie mumbles, trying to side-step him and get away. Billy blocks his path.

"This isn't your home."

"Yeah, it is," Eddie argues. "Since I was eight."

"You wished you'd never been born, remember?" Billy asks pointedly. "Now you get to see what that's like."

"Isn't the first ghost supposed to be the nice one?" Eddie asks. "I thought the third one was the mean one."

"You only get one ghost," Billy says. "Only gonna need one stop, too. Made a bet that I could break you quick."

"Good fuckin' luck," Eddie scoffs.

"C'mere," Billy orders, reaching for him.

Eddie feels the urge to bolt, but before he can act on it, Billy grabs him by the collar and drags him up the steps and through the door.

Like, through the door.

"Did we just--? Did you just--? What the hell?!" Eddie splutters, looking around him for answers. The door is still closed. And then he begins to notice other things. This isn't that ugly brown carpet that's been here since the 50s, when this hunk of junk came off the lot. Those aren't the right curtains. Where are Wayne's mugs? And his hats? And his chair?

There's a small Christmas tree on a table by the window and a few wrapped gifts beneath it. There are plastic toys and wooden blocks on the new-ish rug, which is an odd green color. Photos of prettier places than Hawkins adorn the walls. Carefully arranged pillows line a yellow couch that doesn't belong here. Aside from the toys on the floor, it's neater than he's ever seen it. This isn't his house.

"What is this?" he asks, turning to Billy. "Why are we here?"

Billy nods his head toward Eddie's room, and Eddie follows his gaze to a body stepping out of it. A woman. She lingers in the doorway for a moment, then reaches in to flip the light off and close the door.

Eddie's heart drops into his stomach when he sees her face.

His one and only.

His Evil Woman.

She looks tired. The dark circles around her eyes remind him of the time they experimented with zombie makeup. Something is different with her hair. Has she lost weight? He inwardly cringes at his own question, knowing she'd give him a smack for it. But she can't read his mind. She doesn't even acknowledge his presence.

She tiptoes down the hallway and takes a left in the kitchen, pulling out stuff to make a sandwich. Four. Four sandwiches. She assembles four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, packs them in crinkled brown lunch bags that have seen better days, then folds down the tops. There's one bread heel left. She stares at it for a moment, then wraps it up and puts it back in the bag.

She looks around, as if she can feel someone watching her. Eddie shifts uncomfortably, almost wishing she'd make eye contact and laugh because he fell for whatever sick joke this is. But she looks right through him with her dull eyes. Where's that wicked twinkle he loves so much? Why does she look so sad? What's she looking at? Eddie glances behind him. Is she waiting for someone to come in the door? Looking at the tree, maybe?

Just when Eddie thinks he can't possibly stand that blank stare for one more second, her face crumples. She sinks to the floor, grabbing a kitchen towel on the way down and holding it to her mouth to stifle her sobs. Eddie wishes he could look away and save her this indignity, but he can't. He can't take his eyes off of her.

"What happened to her?" Eddie whispers, afraid she'll hear.

"It's more of a what didn't happen to her," Billy answers somberly. "She never met you."

"Is that all you got?" Eddie scoffs, turning to his companion with annoyance. "She never met me, so she cries sometimes? Get fucked, Hargrove."

"No, asshole," Billy seethes, taking his attention from the crying girl on the floor to the metalhead at his side. "She never met you and became a social pariah, so she actually made friends with the popular kids. Became quite the party animal. Hooked up with some older guy one weekend, who happened to possess some illicit substances that needed to be distributed to the desperate students of Hawkins High. Sound familiar?"

Eddie thinks for a moment, and when he understands, his jaw drops.

"Rick?" Eddie asks. "My girl was selling for Reefer Rick?"

"She's not your girl," Billy growls. "You don't exist, remember? Anyway, she was doin' a lot more than selling for him."

"No fuckin' way," Eddie protests.

"Yes fuckin' way," Billy argues. "They were together for almost a year before she realized he was stickin' his dick in anything that would let him. By that time, it was too late."

"Too late?" Eddie asks hesitantly.

"She'd already had the baby."

Eddie feels the blood drain from his face. Wait, does he even have blood in whatever this freaky little fever dream is?

"While her classmates were dancing to Cyndi Lauper or some shit at prom, she was in the hospital having a baby," Billy continues. "She never got to graduate. Got into a real bad fight with her mom. When her dad found out that his unwed teenage daughter got knocked up by the town drug dealer, he took her mom to court and won full custody of the little brother. After the kid got shipped to his dad, her mom sold the house and went back to live closer to the rest of her family. And then when she found out Rick was fucking around, it was just her and the baby…"

Eddie tenses, sensing an "until".

"Until me."

"You?" Eddie asks with an accusatory tone.

"Me." The corner of Billy's mouth twitches, like he's remembering something nice. "I liked her in school, but she was Rick's… until she wasn't. Then I moved in. Then came the triplets. They're absolute hellions, but she loves 'em," Billy sighs. "And me. Nobody ever loved me like she did. I wish to Hell,"

Thunder booms, and Billy winces.

"I wish to Heaven," he says, looking up at the ceiling apprehensively, "that I hadn't tried to drive that night. It was hard sometimes, but we were happy, y'know? I didn't mean to leave them all alone like this."

Eddie focuses on the longing in Billy's eyes, rather than the broken woman he's staring at.

"She didn't deserve this," Billy whispers. His face hardens, and he turns to Eddie. "She didn't deserve that shit you said to her either, asshole."

Eddie feels almost as bad as he did the second those words left his mouth.

"So you're dead?" Eddie asks, desperate for something else to think about.

"Yes, I'm fucking dead," Billy rolls his eyes. "You don't exist at all in this world, and I got drunk and drove my car into a tree just before Christmas last year. What a fuckin' pair we make, huh?"

Eddie sighs and turns his attention back to the girl who's now staring blankly at the floor, silent tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"Why's she in Wayne's house?" Eddie asks suddenly.

"Thought you'd never ask," Billy says, lighting another cigarette. "Only place she could afford. Guy cut her a real good deal, after what happened to your uncle."

Billy pauses and makes Eddie ask: "What happened to my uncle?"

"He blew his brains out," Billy says matter-of-factly, pointing to the spot where Wayne's chair should be with his cigarette. "Right there."

"Bullshit."

"Why do you think a trailer this old has a new carpet and wallpaper?" Billy asks.

Eddie surveys the place. The kitchen is mostly the same; same sink, same stove, same fridge, even some of the same ancient magnets he used to play with as a kid. But the living room…

"Why?" he breathes.

"Hmmm," Billy hums, pretending to flip through the pages of an imaginary book and pointing to some imaginary answer. "It seems that dear old Uncle Wayne had a little bit of a drinking problem."

"Wayne never drank anything but beer," Eddie argues.

"Well, funny thing," Billy says, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing his smoke in Eddie's face. "Seems he gave up hard liquor when his punk-ass nephew came to live with him. And since in this universe, he didn't have a nephew… he just kept on drinking. Even though he was already depressed, and the liquor just made it worse… and worse… until one day, he'd had enough."

"No," Eddie breathes.

"Yeah," Billy nods, not looking very sympathetic. "Wanna hear about your little sheepies at school?"

"No."

"Tough shit," Billy scoffs. "Little Drummer Boy, before he got shipped back to Daddy-O's, was in the marching band. Wedgie City, man. The big guy with the curly hair got bullied so bad, his mom decided to home-school him. He's so scared of everything, he hasn't left the house in months. Brace-Face joined the fucking Mathletes, thus ensuring him a lifetime of virginity. And the rest of those little weirdos just try to lay low and survive. Your little club that brought them all together and made them proud to be freaks? Doesn't exist. Never will. Most of 'em don't even know each other."

"Stop," Eddie says weakly.

"You want more?" Billy asks. '''Cause I can keep going. Wanna know about the worst thing your girl's ever done to make rent? Or how she'll never be able to fix the relationship with her mom? That her own brother won't bother to invite her to his wedding, when he finally finds some four-eyed geek who will have him?"

"Stop," Eddie begs.

"Maybe you want to hear about your parents? How they only had you as an attempt to save their marriage, and how they fared with another miscarriage instead? It wasn't pretty, man."

"Stop," Eddie begs.

"Wanna circle back to the uncle? And how all he ever did was work and drink and had no friends and no reason to live? About how the first time he'd smiled in years was the night he loaded that pistol?"

"Stop!" Eddie shouts.

"YOU STOP!" Billy shouts back. "You've got a good life on the other side of this shit, and you're wishing it away like a fucking loser! Oh, boo-hoo, you're not gonna be a rock star. You've got a fucking family and friends and people that love your stupid ass! You know what, I don't think you even deserve to go back. I should tell the man upstairs to make this reality the real one, and as payment for erasing your sorry ass from existence, I should get another shot at this life!"

Billy and Eddie stare at each other for a moment, both breathing hard and wondering who's going to break first. Then, the clock in the living room chimes, and Billy looks at in a panic.

"She needs you, man," Billy says quickly. "She needs you to pull your head out of your ass and think about why she's with you. Holding you back? She's the only reason you made it this far, dipshit. She's the reason you graduated, the reason you're not in jail, probably the reason you're still alive. She could've gone anywhere, done anything she wanted. But she stayed in the shittiest town on the planet, and she was happy about it, because you were there together. Never had a dream? What a crock of shit. You were her dream, asshole."

Eddie feels tears prickling at his eyes.

"Now, you get your stupid ass back to your reality and you tell that girl and those nerds how fucking sorry you are," Billy yells, his voice getting louder and barely overpowering the ringing increasing in Eddie's ears. "And you better fucking mean it!"

Eddie nods. Billy grabs the collar of his jacket and gives it a tug. The light flashes white, and Eddie hides his face in his sleeve.

"HEY!"

Eddie opens his eyes and raises his head, but the light hasn't gone out yet. He lowers his head again and hears a scrape. A shower of gravel hits his side. He looks up in surprise. The light moves.

"What are you doing out here, you little shit?"

Eddie squints and makes out a flashlight pointed to the ground… and a pair of boots… and tan pants…

"Hopper?"

"You hurt?"

"No?"

"Then why aren't you at Mrs. Henderson's Christmas party?"

"Uh…" Eddie racks his brain, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make Hop beat his ass.

"Only a Munson would choose to freeze his balls off alone at the quarry instead of being at a Christmas party with all his friends," the chief sighs. "Get goin', kid. People are worried about you."

"Doubt it," Eddie mutters without thinking.

"Oh yeah?" Hop asks, lighting a cigarette. "Then why am I out here looking for some dumbass when I could be riding out the last of my shift at the station with Flo's fruitcake?"

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. Someone really sent Hop looking for him? After all that?

"I'm off in thirty, and I'm coming by for the cookies Dustin promised me. If you're not in there having a good time with all your dumb little buddies, we're gonna have a problem. Got it?"

"Got it, Hop," Eddie confirms. He can't help but smile.

"Move your ass, then!" Hop orders.

Eddie scrambles away from the edge of the cliff, heading for the van.

Hop follows him down the quarry road, saying goodbye with a honk when they part ways. Eddie smiles when he sees Hopper's lights turn in his rearview mirror, almost missing the chief's company after his crazy night.

He doesn't have to feel alone for long; he can see the glow of the Henderson house from almost a mile away.

Dustin's mom loves Christmas more than anyone else Eddie's ever met. She's hosted a Christmas party for Dustin and his friends every year since they moved to Hawkins, and other moms may try to compete, but they simply can't. Claudia Henderson bakes the best cookies in the world. She decorates the house like she was trained at the North Pole. She has never once run out of hot chocolate or snacks, or let a guest leave empty-handed.

Eddie hopes his friends are having too good a time to stay mad at him.

The turnoff is easy to find. He's never seen so many lights in his life. The mailbox is covered. Every tree in their yard has a string of lights on it. The driveway is lined with lights and filled with cars Eddie knows, including Uncle Wayne's truck and Jeff's car. There's a light-up Santa on the roof. There are plastic reindeer in the yard.

And there's a black shape smoking on an otherwise well-lit carport that looks very familiar.

Eddie eases out of the van and jams his hands in his pockets, approaching the figure cautiously. His Evil Woman meets his eye but doesn't say anything. When he gets close, but not too close, he stops. He stands. He stares. She stares back. He doesn't know where to start. Begging? Groveling? Punching himself in the nuts until she tells him he can stop?

And then she offers him the lit cigarette she'd holding.

The simple gesture floods Eddie with warmth.

Overwhelming warmth.

The kind that makes a person's eyes water.

Eddie rushes forward to wrap his arms around her. He feels her shift, like maybe she's dropped the butt and stamped it out. She hugs him back, and he melts into her.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"I know," she whispers back.

"I didn't mean it."

"I know," she repeats.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"I know," she says again.

"I love you."

"I know."

"You're saying 'I know' a lot," Eddie notices.

"I know."

"We should definitely have tons of sex tonight," he says, holding his breath while waiting for a response. Too soon?

"Dream on, dickweed."

He snorts and pulls back, and she looks up at him with the smallest of smiles. He'll take it. She reaches for his hands, and Eddie takes her freezing fingers in his. How long has she been out here?

"Do you still love me?" he asks, almost afraid of the answer.

She hesitates. Eddie's blood runs cold.

"Do you really think I'm holding you back?" she asks quietly.

"God, no," Eddie sighs, fighting the urge to drop to his knees and hug her around the middle while he grovels. "I don't know where the fuck that came from. You're everything to me. You're probably the only reason I'm still alive."

She considers it. Makes him squirm. Eddie bites his lip, preparing for the worst.

"The night is young, Munson."

She smirks. Eddie lets out a sigh of relief, head swimming at the comfort of a familiar threat. She reaches up to touch his swollen cheek. Did she just wipe away a tear? Fucking traitorous eyes! Eddie wipes angrily at his face, just in case.

"I'm sorry tonight didn't turn out the way you hoped," she says softly.

"It did," Eddie cuts in quickly. He doesn't want to think about that. He doesn't want to think about anything but making things right with the people he wronged. "I'm at the best Christmas party in Hawkins, with all my favorite people. If… if you think they'll let me in?"

He glances uneasily at the front door, decorated by a massive wreath with Santa's jolly face at its center.

"You think those boys, who've been playing D&D with you for years, have never witnessed an Eddie Munson Tantrum?" she teases, with that beautiful, amazing, wicked sparkle in her eyes.

Eddie's face burns with embarrassment.

"Oh!" she remembers suddenly, digging in her jacket pocket. She extracts a folded napkin and opens it to reveal a pile of cookies. Eddie's favorites.

"I snatched the last of the double chocolate chip. Apparently they're Mike's favorites too. I know he's a skinny brat and all, but damn that boy can stuff his face."

Eddie looks from the cookies to the girl, his eyes tearing up again. She did that for him? After he did that?

"C'mere," she orders, shoving the cookies back in her pocket and pulling him in for another hug. Eddie closes his eyes and buries his face in her neck, not ever wanting to imagine a world where they don't have each other.

"I love you," he croaks.

"I love you too," she responds. She squeezes him as tightly as he's squeezing her. He's never, ever letting go.

She seems to read his mind, since her hands soon find their way under his shirt. Eddie jumps out of his skin and lets out an honest-to-God squawk when those icy fingers make contact with his warm back, and she laughs at him. It's the most beautiful thing Eddie's heard all night.

Is she really like this because of him? Fun and happy and everything a person should be?

A car door slams, and both of them turn to the driveway to see Chief Hopper approaching.

"Munson, you got a taillight out."

"Yeah, I know," Eddie sighs.

The trio stands there awkwardly for a few seconds, before Hopper asks, "Wheeler eat all the cookies yet?"

"Just about," she grins. "If we hurry, we might be able to grab a few crumbs before he licks the plate."

Hopper chuckles and walks toward the front door. She takes Eddie's arm, tilts her head to Hopper, and waggles her eyebrows suggestively. Eddie shoots her a fake glare, and she laughs again before leading him inside for the party of the year.

What started out as the worst night of Eddie Munson's life ended up being one of the best. The band had softened under the influence of sugar, and did not murder him when he reappeared. Eddie spent a great evening surrounded by the people who matter most, in a place they all call home, with hundreds of cookies and gallons of cocoa. Eddie had so much fun, he didn't even groan when all the moms started singing Christmas carols at the piano.

Although he did nearly have a heart attack when Billy Hargrove, who'd been dragged to the party by his step-sister Max, tapped him on the shoulder and asked to bum a smoke.

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

masterlist (part 1,2,3,4) Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.

Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.

"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.

You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.

"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.

You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.

Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."

"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.

"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.

You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.

"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.

Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.

He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.

"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.

Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.

"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.

He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"

"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.

"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."

Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.

"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.

"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.

There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.

The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.

You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.

-

Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.

You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.

“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.

“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.

“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.

Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.

“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.

“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.

You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.

You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.

“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.

"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.

"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.

You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"

"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.

You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.

"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.

Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.

You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.

"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.

"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.

"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.

"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.

"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."

You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.

"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."

You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."

Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.

"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."

"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.

"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.

"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.

"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.

You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.

The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.

He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.

"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."

The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.

"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.

"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.

"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.

"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.

You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.

Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.

-

guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.

much love as always, isabel

[msgexymunson]

Prettiest Bitch

Description: you and Eddie have a special way of showing each other you care.

A/N: this is a real life fucking story of me and my partner lmao. Please like and reblog if you enjoy it sweetheart. 

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, established relationship, mean Eddie and mean reader but it's just fun and games, reader is AFAB, female oral receiving.

Masterlist

900 words

Laying on Eddie's sofa, you bask in the warm glow of being near him. Your legs were draped over his as you rifled through a book that you were barely paying attention to. Eddie's hand is up your loose pyjama pants, tracing soft circles on the  bare skin of your calf. 

"Eddie?" 

"Yeah sweets?" 

"You've always got to be touching me, don't you." 

"Suppose so."

You smirk, pulling his hand out of your pants. He whines like a child that just got his favourite toy confiscated. 

"Why?" 

"Dunno, I just want your skin."

Laughing loudly, you scoot closer on your knees, just shy of climbing onto his lap. 

"You want my skin? That sounds so fuckin' weird." 

Eddie drops his voice into an odd gravelly gasp, the one he reserves for goblin NPCs when he's DM. 

"Eddie wants it! Give Eddie your skin!" 

Before you can react he's pulling you onto his lap, hands wandering up your top and stroking hard at the exposed flesh. 

"You dumbass that tickles! Stop!" 

"Never!" He doubles down his efforts, lifting your t-shirt and blowing a wet raspberry on your stomach. You try to lean away but he has you trapped. 

Finally wiggling from his grasp in a fit of breathless giggles, your rump bumps heavily on the floor. 

"You're an idiot, Munson." 

"Yeah? Well you like me, so who's the idiot now?" 

"Still you!" You flip him the bird and he pokes his tongue out at you at the same time. 

Now eye level with the coffee table, a leaflet catches your eye. 

"What's this? Hawkins County fair?" 

Leafing through it, you hear Eddie's chuckle. 

"Yeah, just a bunch of farmers showing off the size of their pumpkins and shit, it's so stupid."

"But look!" You wave the ad in his face as he rolls his eyes. 

"Dog show Eddie! Dogs! Look, they've got categories and everything." 

He goes to steal it out of your hands but you hold firmly on, reeling off some of the different categories. 

"Senior dogs… there's one for puppies that's cute… oh haha look, prettiest bitch! I should enter." You nod at him and his gaze softens, sinking down to join you on the floor.

"Oh sweetheart" his thumb brushes your cheek as you melt under his gaze. 

"You're not pretty." 

Gasping, your eyes snap back open to see Eddie rolling on the floor gasping with fits of laughter. 

"Edward James Munson! Gonna make you regret that!" 

You straddle him, fingers digging bruises into his sides, trying desperately to find ticklish spots. 

"It was a joke! Come on sweets, you know I'm not ticklish there." 

Grinning devilishly, you straddle him backwards, clinging onto his legs like a koala.

"Nope, but you are here!" 

Your fingers tickle at his socked feet as he writhes beneath you. 

"Fuck, no fair! Stop!" 

"Never!" Your relentless onslaught continues.

"I will kick you in the head!" 

"Say I'm pretty!" 

"Fine! You're pretty, stop, stop!" 

You finally relinquish your hold and clamber off him still giggling triumphantly. 

"Am I forgiven?" 

"Nope. That was really mean Edward." You huff dramatically, folding your arms over your chest. 

"Kiss it better?" 

You both use that phrase. It started off with kissing your knee when you fell, then you used it to comfort him once when some jocks had been particularly mean to him, then it just melded into your day to day life. 

"OK." 

His smile is wicked as he pushes you to your back, fingers hooking into your pyjama pants. 

"The fuck are you doing?" Gazing down at him, he smiles sinfully as he pulls your pants down in one smooth motion. 

"Didn't say where, sweets." 

His tongue runs the full length of your pussy and runs around your clit in a smooth circle. 

"Fuck, Eddie!" Hands make their way into his unruly curls as he continues his apology, suckling at your clit. 

Thick fingers probe your entrance, gliding in to curl in that spot just like you like it. 

"Sweetheart, you're the prettiest girl in this trailer." 

Not giving in that easily, you pull his hair. 

"I'm the only girl in this trailer!" 

He laughs and sucks your clit again hard, making your back arch off the floor. 

"OK," he practically breathes into your cunt, "the prettiest girl in Hawkins?" 

"Better." 

"Fine, the prettiest girl in the fucking world." 

"OK, oh shit, oh you're forgiven!" Moans replace words as he fucks you hard with his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to release.

"Don't stop, don't stop, I'm gonna come, Eddie!" 

He presses the flat of his tongue against your clit hard as you ride his face into a searing wash of ecstasy. 

Releasing in a broken scream, you melt into a puddle. Moments later, a very smug Eddie hovers over you. 

"You are the prettiest bitch" He says, pressing a soft kiss to your nose. 

Too fucked out to argue, you pull him close and hold him. You'll get him back later. 

@munson-blurbs @roanniom @eddiesprincess86

[starscabaret]

Omg, I love yandere cowboy!! I’ll call him David cause the name Lane reminds me of someoneDavid x a chubby reader? You said he’s careful with the reader but at the same time he’s really strong, right? So, he is kinda rough with her while they make love. Him thinking you being chubby you can take it better. At first it hurts a lot but reader gets used to it and even enjoys it

Cowboy Yandere! Lane  x Chubby Fem Reader  ✧.*

pairing :  yandere! lane x chubby fem reader

summary :  quick drabble to this ask, started this last night, edited the best I could. 

authors note : im still alive just busy with college but, im always happy to answer ask if I have time I am more motivated to write if I know itll bring someone joy, please give me feedback on this, it was a biggg task

warnings : nsfw, teasing, first-time having sex, fingering, slight argument, PIV sex, daddy kink, breeding, mating press, etc

You and Lane had been on a few dates ever since he saw you at your local honky tonk bar, on the county line. Since then you two had been almost inseparable, very much due to Lane’s unabashed obsession with you. He took you on dates very often and spent as much time with you as you allowed when he wasn’t working. He was courting you, yes, but you’d never had anyone lay it on so strong. It was bliss, having someone be all about you, especially your favorite cowboy. Lane insisted on you being his “ol lady” after your first date, but you wanted to give it time, and for you, he yielded… for now. 

With no date or plans with your cowboy arranged for the day, you set out downtown for a day of antique shopping and sweet treats. As you are leaving an ice cream shop, a man stops you.

“Hey Miss, where’d you get the ice cream, I can’t find the place?” the kind stranger asks.

And just as you begin to answer him, you hear an all too familiar roar and hum. 

“Y/N ! Get your little ass in this truck now.” Lane shouts from the window of his truck as pulls up beside you and the man. 

Embarrassed by his outburst you turn to the man, “Two shops down, sorry about that sir, have a good day!” you rush out, running over to the passenger side of Lane’s truck cone in hand. 

As you get in slamming the door, you glare at him before he can even speak, “Lane have you lost your damn mind? Screaming and cursing at me in public!?”

“No, I think YOU have lost your damn mind, you know I don’t like it when you curse little lady, and more importantly who the hell was that guy?” he shoots back at you as he darts off down the road to God knows where. 

“Are you serious right now? Just some fucking guy asking where I got the ice cream from.” you roll your eyes at his possessiveness.

“Serious as a heart attack, sweetheart. Now eat it before it melts,” he commands.

“I thought you had business to take care of today, Lane?” you ask accusingly.

“Did, it’s taken care of now. You are coming to my house; I’m making you supper.” he states.

“Ugh you Brute, didn’t ask, didn’t call or text, you’re lucky I walked downtown.” you sigh out irritated. 

The rest of the ride to Lane’s house was a quiet one as you both brewed in your thoughts and slight irritation with one another. You’d been to his home before, when he took you on a scenic walk and picnic around the property for a date and tried to convince you to move in. 

Once you had arrived and settled in Lane spoke up, “Go in the master bedroom and wash up so you can help me please doll face.”

Once you entered his bedroom, you breathed in deeply, it smelled completely of him, of his manly musky scent that drove you crazy. 

Making your way to his bathroom sink you begin washing your hands, it is not long after that Lane’s tall form is pressed against your plump backside. 

“Hi, honeybee,” he spoke as he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Hi Lane.” you purred as you leaned into him.

“Come sit with me on the bed, we have time.” he spoke as he took your hand guiding you back into his neat and rustic bedroom. 

Sitting you on his lap he begins to kiss all over your face and down to your neck. Your hands move to wrap around his neck and steady yourself.  

His lips meet yours as his hand presses at the back of your head, as you launch into a searing kiss. Tongues down one another’s throat, as you suck and caress each other’s tongue with urgency. 

The kiss creates a warmth in your core, like everything else about him. You could be embarrassed but it is impossible to not feel him hardening beneath your thighs, letting you know he feels the same. 

He reluctantly pulls away from the kiss to stare you in the eyes, as you both attempt to catch your breath. 

He moves his hands down your body to grope and fondle all of your curves with stars in his eyes. 

“Gorgeous girl,” he murmurs. 

He is so entranced by looking at and squeezing your body, that your moans sound like white noise to him. He also doesn’t notice the dampness caused by your pussy crying for him. Or the darkening spot on the zipper of his blue jeans where his tip began to leak precum. 

What he does notice is you, taking off your top. You’re not sure what urged you to do so. Perhaps it was wanting to show yourself off even more, to make him physically drool over you. 

“Aww sweet girl, getting undressed for me? You want me to see more of your pretty self?” he asks as he continues his hands-on exploration of your body.  

“Ugh yes.” you moan out at his teasing praise.  

“Well let me help,” he says as he stands you both up.  

Before you can move to unbutton your skirt, he is on his knees in front of you, face buried in your soft pudgy tummy, as his fingers knead at the fat. He pecks away the skin as he unbuttons and pulls your skirt down.  

The second your skirt is down, and you are left in your underwear and bra, you expect his eyes to fall on your pussy clad with embarrassingly wet panties, but they don’t, his eyes and hands launch to the fat of your thighs. 

“Pretty, thick thing huh? Just perfect for me, aren’t ya?” he asks as his hands run up and down your legs stopping to grope the fat of your ass cheeks and around your hips.

Dumbfounded, you don’t respond, you just continue to stare down at his handsome face in awe as you caress his short dirty blonde locks. 

He rises up from his knees to tower over you, while taking off his tailored t-shirt revealing his chest and torso that is paler than the rest of him due to hours of toiling in the sun. You eye the raised scar on his chest from what you recognize as a brand, the number 4. You recall he regarded it as his lucky number. 

Once his shirt is removed, he wraps his arms around your back, pulling you closer to him.

“May I?” he asks as he fiddles with the clasp of your bra. 

“Please.” you moan out. 

“Yes mam,” he flashes you his big bright white smile. He was elated at your trust and want for him. It created a feeling of fullness in his chest at having you this way, he hoped to have you fully in every way soon. If he had his way it would have been the day you two met.

Once your bra is removed and discarded somewhere in his room, he gently guides you to lie in the center of his bed. You reach your arms out and whimper, gesturing for him to join you. Missing the warmth of his body against yours, and of his large hands laying tender touches over your plump form. 

“I’m coming sweetheart, don’t rush me.” he breathes out teasingly, staring at you almost naked on his bed as he works on unbuckling his belt and pulling down his jeans. 

You try not to stare at the bulge in his boxers. Lane was a big guy, you weren’t shocked. Your eyes avoided his dick, to keep yourself from jumping his bones. 

Making his way onto his bed, straddling your plump flattened thighs, he continues your make-out session with even more fervor. 

Pulling away he brings your hand to his mouth after trailing his kisses from your mouth, to down your neck, and up your arm, finishing with a darling peck to the back of your hand. 

“You want me?” he asks against your hand.

You move your head to nod but stop yourself as you know Lane will only accept a verbal answer, “Please,” you breathe out, breathless from your arousal and activities.

“Atta girl, Lift up for me” he praises as he moves to slide your panties down your hips and thighs, eventually throwing them somewhere off to the side.

You draw your legs up, feet planted on his bed, spreading your legs, to make room for him between them.

Being naked in front of anyone is enough to give anyone anxiety, but since your first meeting, Lane has done nothing but praise your beauty. Just your smile brought him to his knees, practically begging to cater to your every need. By the time his eyes moved down the rest of your face and body, he was enchanted. He always ensured you had some point of physical contact when together, claiming he couldn’t get enough of his “gorgeous girl”.

Your anxiety was low, you were happy to share your body with him, as he had proved he could be trusted with it. Trusted with you, your heart, your every need. 

One of his big hands moves to spread your folds so he can have a peek, “Ahh look at that pretty flower, you been hiding it from me?” he teases. 

His thumb rubs your clit as his other hand holds you open, so he can see all of you. He refuses to have anything hidden from his view. His thumb gently makes its way down your puffy wet folds, to your hole which throbs at the sight and feel of him. 

As your greedy wet hole practically sucks his thumb in, he groans aloud, “God you’re so pretty Y/N, please say I can have you?”

He peers up at you as his hands continue their exploration of your pussy.

“Yes Lane, I want you,” you respond, throwing your head back into his fluffy white cotton pillows. 

“Daddy’ll take care of ya,” He replies moving up to peck your sweet lips. 

His words didn’t even catch you off guard, it was very clear that Lane was the kind of man to provide, lead, and care for you beyond your wildest dreams. Hence why your relationship was moving fast by your standards, of course still much too slow for him. 

With that promise, Lane began prepping you. He swiftly pulls you into his lap, setting his back against the headboard. You go to lay your legs flat in front of you, having no clue about his goal. He stops you immediately, pulling your back to his front, and splaying each of your legs over his muscular thighs, making you wide open to him. His head comes to rest with his chin on your shoulder, looking down so he can see the mess he is making between your legs. 

You feel two fingers enter you as his thumb prods at your clit again. You are beginning to drip all over his hands and soon his sheets, as he works you like some sort of familiar machine. As you feel your climax approaching, he swiftly removes his fingers. You whine out, wanting, no needing them back in you. 

“Don’t worry doll I’m not done,” he whispers in your ear kissing the side of your face and urging you to look at him. 

He plunges his two middle fingers back into you at an alarming rate. Your blush has spread down your chest at the feeling of him fucking you on his fingers. He continues his brutal pace even as he feels your wetness increase.

He doesn’t even come to a stop when you begin to go stiff in his arms, moaning his name loudly repeatedly as your orgasm forces your thighs to tremble and try to close around him. 

“Please Lane” you beg.

“Please what sweet girl?” he hums and asks as his fingers slow.

“You, want you.” you breathe out.

“You know I can’t say no to you” he winks as he takes you off his lap, laying you on the bed.

On his knees between your legs, he removes his boxers and you don’t know what to look at first. 

His large cock is hard and dripping between the deep v shape of his muscular hips, It’s covered in short almost blonde tufts of hair at the base. His balls swing beneath it like they’d been aching for you.

He comes in closer to you, leaning over you, centering himself between your thighs. He lays his dick on your soft fat tummy. Going past your belly button, and letting you feel the warmth, throb, and weight of him.

You both gaze down at the sight in awe, letting out moans and groans at the erotic image. You have to bite your finger to keep yourself from begging him to fuck you.

His hand wraps around it giving it a few strokes before he’s tapping the heavy tip at your clit. 

He groans and moves his other hand to grope one of your breasts as he continues to move his tip through your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

“Beautiful tits, beautiful pussy, beautiful tummy, could you be any more perfect for me?” he speaks up while looking into your eyes. 

“Glad you like it,” you breathe out biting your lip.

“Like it? No, I love it, I adore it, sweetheart. Matter of fact I’m more sure than ever of you being mine. My ol lady, my girlfriend, my boo, whatever you wanna call it. You’re mine. That means no more talking to random fuckers in the street, and no more cursing.” He states hand on the side of your neck rubbing his thumb over the column of your delicate throat. 

You truly didn’t realize how upset he was by earlier events until he slid his whole length into you at once. His hips meeting yours. His bush tickles your clit. Causing you to moan out and your hole to seize around him. He let out the deepest groan you had ever heard from him. 

You could only respond, “Yes Daddy” while sucking in a sharp breath. Even if his possessive almost controlling nature upset you, you did not care in the moment. You were the fullest, wettest, and warmest you’d ever been and it was because of him.

“That’s right darling, and you won’t be bad again. Ill make sure of it.” He responds with hearts in his eyes but sternness in his tone.

He really meant it, pulling his hips all the way out just to slam back into you in seconds. You were wet enough, and he felt your pussy wrapped around him begging for him to move. You knew that Lane was strong as an ox. All-American football player, horse rider, champion bull rider, and all-around farm boy, it wasn’t until now that you realized just how strong his hips, and legs were. He was absolutely plowing you, better than any field. 

He felt so good inside of you, as his dick kept stroking, and rubbing every spot inside you. His strong arms caged you underneath him, as he bent down to kiss your lips, never once slowing in the pace or strength of his thrust. 

You open your mouth to tell him to slow down, to pull out, to let up, but your brain short circuits with him inside of you fucking you so thoroughly. It is not long till his headboard is slamming against the wall with every thrust, which would drown out the sound of anything you had to say.

He continues his powerful thrust only slowing to move your positions a little bit. Now you can catch your breath to speak up, “ ’s too much Lane please, my pussy is gonna hurt.” you breathe out, not mentioning any pain. The pain that did come from the stretch and sheer force was not so much that it interfered with your pleasure at all. 

“Whaddya mean too much doll? I picked you for a reason, I know you’re strong, firm, plump, and beautiful. Perfect for me to use how we both want.” he coos at you as he moves your position into a mating press.

“Don’t tell me you can’t take a dick? A beautiful well-built woman like you?” He asks as he brings his hips up high and all the way back down into you in your new position. 

You give no answer at first too cock drunk, at the feel of him in this new position. You thought you were full before but by god, you thought you might die as his balls hit your tight ass hole, and his muscular thighs held down your own. You couldn’t see him entering you, he was so big and going so fast. All you could see was your tits bouncing over your chubby folded-over body, and his over yours holding your legs up. 

With his arms still wrapped around your legs he falls onto you bringing his chest down to yours, you smell his heady, manly scent, making you moan out at each thrust he gives you. 

His hips do all the work as he continues slamming into you with loud plaps, you hardly notice the drops of both your arousals squirting all over your tummy from the impact. 

“Huh? Making you feel good yeah?” he moans into your neck, his face pressed passionately against yours in an effort to prevent himself from spilling inside you.

Now that was a question you could answer, “Yes!” you scream out as you pulse around his cock. 

“See doll, Daddy knows what he’s doing.” He pulls away to smirk at you. You feel your stomach and your hole begin to quiver around him. With him on top there’s not much you can do to brace yourself except wrap your arms around his neck above you. 

Recognizing the feel of you around him, he keeps at the same pace, his tip hitting the same spot inside of you over and over again. 

You tighten your arms around his neck and hold him close to you as you cum all over his dick. 

“Atta girl” he groans pecking you on your pursed lips. With his hand on your jaw as his thumb lovely brushes over your face, he continues pushing and pulling out of your pussy at a slower pace. You watch as his eyes move down to watch the way he splits you open as your hole still breathes around him. 

It’s not long before he pushes into you with renewed strength. With one last harsh thrust, he buries himself inside of you cumming in his little flower. 

His groan is loud as he falls on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“You were perfect, more than I ever could have imagined. Ya okay doll?” he asks turning to you breathing heavily. 

“Yes, lane felt so good” you mewl out, “It’ll hurt when you pull out.” you remark, still feeling him inside of you. 

“To be expected, ya took me so well.” He smirks. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it sweetheart, as soon as I pull out you’ll feel my cum dripping out, that’ll cool ya down.”

“Then I’ll take you to the bath, wash you up, bring you back to bed, and give er’ some kisses, how’s that sound?” he asks.

Caught up in your ethereal look of bliss, after your lovemaking and orgasm, he can’t stop admiring and kissing your hot blushing face. His smile can’t be contained, having you in that way made his heart beat faster than any strenuous activity. You let him have you fully. To take care of you stirred something in him, he could only compare to raising up animals, a good harvest, or a job well done.  

It was now, he realized you’d forever be his favorite thing to care for, his pride and joy. He’d stop at nothing to make you the most kept woman in the world. For the rest of his life, any of his success would be to impress and provide for you. 

[ghastlyfilters]

Pleeease write some headcanons of Art trying to cheer up a GN reader who's stressed over school/work/etc. 🥺🥺🥺 pretty please 🤧🤍🙂‍↕️

art with a s/o who’s struggling with work!!

pairings; implied art the clown x gn reader

warnings; mentions of violence (this is what ya get when your fictional crush is a murderer babe 😔) stress, and gotta add in fluff

gifs made by me!! :)

THE HEADCANONS:

• If there’s one thing about Art that everyone should know by now, is that he is INCREDIBLY curious. However, when it comes to anyone studying, this man is bored out of his little clown mind.

• He thrives off your happiness when you’re in a good mood, but when you’re stressed.. Art’s kinda at a loss..

• Despite Art absolutely living for other people’s misery, seeing you so stressed actually freaks him out in a sense. He’s a ticking time bomb. And his brain can’t handle shit when your brain also cannot handle shit 😭

• His horn’s practically his best buddy at this point, and if it cheers him up, it’ll maybe cheer you up? Right?

…. Right??

• Yeah, him honking his horn in your ear whilst you were trying to study your ass off did not seem to sit well with you. When you told him to stop, he gave you that sassy judgemental look, raising one drawn on brow. He knows the power he has over you. Art could’ve honked that fucking horn all day if he liked. It’s not as if you could stop him.

• But.. your boyfriend has respect for you.. sometimes. And he did in fact stop honking his horn whenever he noticed that you were studying.

• Art is awake literally ever single hour of the day. He doesn’t necessarily need to sleep, he more so sort of lounges around. But he can sleep if he really wants to. This makes him literally ideal for going out and getting you food if you’re up at three in the morning studying.

• He did it so much now that you didn’t even ask anymore. You’d be up in the early hours of the morning on your macbook, and Art was already out the door. He could care less if anyone saw him. Most people think he’s some asshole just dressing up as the Miles County clown.

And that’s the mistake the cashier at Subway made that night.

• Art is so SO prone to being insulted easily. So if someone does think he’s trying to dress up as himself, it pisses him off. BAD.

• You learnt this very quickly when he came home with two blood stained Subway bags. And when you went to open one.. dawg.. it wasn’t your food.. ☹️

• It had been the severed head of the cashier he killed. But at this point you weren’t even squeamish anymore. Art always walked around smelling like someone’s insides. But it just made it incredibly awkward when he stood in the doorway blinking at you, making that O shape with his mouth, realising your food was in the other bag..

• One night you’d fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from filling out all the files your professor had sent you. Art smiled down at you before waltzing past with his usual looney tune, cartoonish looking walk. He wanted to raid your snacks again from the kitchen. Art could be a fat shit when he wanted to be. Your laptop was on the dining table, wide open. He hadn’t noticed at first, before a notification sound filled the room in under a second. Art had snapped his head round and squinted, noticing your professor’s name pop up. The prick sent an email lecturing you regarding not enough work being sent back, despite the fact he was sending a shit ton of files. This caused Art to type a very lovely little email back. And when you awoke, he was gone.

… So was your professor apparently when the head of your college sent everyone emails that morning to note that he would not be returning.

• When Art came strolling back in, covered head to toe in that familiar red liquid, you immediately knew.

And this was your long awaited break.

• At last you weren’t having anymore documents sent to you for a while. Atleast until they found a replacement for your old professor. So finally you could relax, watching your lanky boyfriend on the couch across from you, grinning like the madman he is at the horror flick on the TV.

Maybe that clown could cheer you up with everything after all.

HII! this was so fun to write. i adore art so much and i’m desperate for more requests for him!! (also ik a 24hr subway isn’t that common, don’t come for me 😭)

[myboykillme]

This is a fanfiction of Ray from Binary Star Hero, what would have happened if you counties teasing him... It is a smut so minors do not interact or whatever they say. I hope you enjoy?

Smut under the cut, 18+

Maybe inviting Ray to sleep in bed with me was a bad idea, the feel of his hard body against mine is distracting. I can feel his growing hardness twitching in his pants, the thin pajamas I'm wearing doing nothing to stop the feel of him. Despite his earlier warning, I decided to back into him again, this time without saying a word except for a tiny whimper.

Embarrassment flooded my veins at my reaction, has it been so long since I had any sex? Suddenly, I felt a grip on my hips and a breath on my neck from a deep chuckle. "Your thoughts are loud, Star. Don't say I didn't warn you..." I couldn't see him but it made it even more exciting.

A gasp could be heard from me as he ground his dick into me with a groan, then he started kissing my neck softly, teasing me. My pulse quickened from his teasing, I became more and more aware of the wetness that was gathering in between my thighs. "Ray, I didn't mean to-" He flipped me onto my back, his eyes having a slight ruby tint, like he was still holding himself back.”You knew exactly what you were doing…”. I felt myself getting lost in his eyes, I brushed some loose hairs out of his face and kissed him.

It was more of a kiss of lust than love, he dominated the kiss while feeling me up like I would disappear if he wasn't touching me. I combed my hands through the strands of his golden hair, giving it a harsh tug, pulling himself towards me. Deeper, I needed to feel his honeyed tongue against mine. He whined into the kiss from the pain, and that's when I heard the sound of fabric ripping. I pulled away in shock, and then he smirked, liking my reaction to his want. "I'll buy you a new one..." I nodded shyly, shrugging the tattered garment off of me, eagerly unclipping my bra.

Ray sucked a sharp breath in, then he started attacking my chest with kisses. I giggled at his softness, that's when his eyes darkened, and he bit down on my neck. Letting out a louder moan, the pain going straight to my core. That's when I uttered the words I never thought I would, "More~". He smirked against my neck as he started sucking on the skin, making me whine and whimper. Trailing down my upper body with increasing fervor, my lower half felt on fire.

Suddenly, I became aware of his lack of nakedness in contrast to mine, knowing he could read my mind. I just tugged at the end of it, gesturing for him to take it off. He quickly took it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. The scars littered across his upper body made him look like a mosaic painting. I could feel the blood rushing to my face, I traced the muscles on him absentmindedly before realizing he was watching me also with awe. "You look breathtaking, Ray..." I said with a hushed breath, feeling his eyes looking into my very soul. "Star, you have no idea what you do to me."

My hero traced my hips with his fingers, before slowly easing me out of my pants and undergarments. Goosebumps came all over my body from the intensity of his gaze, he seemed like he would swallow me whole if he let him. Feeling his hands brush over my sensitive areas made me move closer to him to gain some friction.

Finally, I felt little circles on my clit, I threw my head back on a loud whine of his name. "I'm going to ruin your body, make it all mine, little Star" He pinched my clit making me whine in pain, almost in no time his finger was deep inside of me. "You're such a greedy little thing, you suck me in as a whole" Easily sticking another finger in, my eyes rolled back to my head. He relentlessly attacked my G-spot while circling in my clit. "Oh fuck! RAY!" I cried out his name from his attacks of pleasure, grasping his arm, feeling hazy burning spasms of mind-blowing sensations flooding my body.

My orgasm was coming quickly, I wasn't even sure what was going on, all I could focus on was Ray's piercing eyes as he drove me crazy. His eyes looked like he wanted to devour me as a whole, a divine offering. He kept eye contact as he gave my nipples little licks, then sucks. God how can someone look so sexy? Thanks to his never stopping stimulation, my built-up pleasure came to a mind-numbing finale, my climax took my breath away as my juices came out of me.

I screamed his name when I came, my eyes rolling back into my head. Slowly but surely, the pace of his fingers came to a halt as I came down from my high. A whine left my throat when he removed his long fingers from my cunt. Embarrassment washed over me at my body's reaction, but Ray looked feral…

Ray licked his fingers clean, savoring the taste of my arousal without a hint of revulsion. His eyes gleamed with hunger as he took in my flushed and panting form. In a flash, he unbuckled his belt and shucked off his pants and boxers, revealing his impressive erection. I couldn't help but stare in awe at the sight of his muscular physique glistening with sweat, his cock throbbing and leaking precum.

Catching my gaze, Ray smirked and tilted my chin with his fingers, forcing me to meet his eyes. "My eyes are up here, Star," he teased, chuckling at my flustered expression. I playfully swatted at his arm, still blushing at being caught ogling him so brazenly.

Without warning, Ray grabbed my legs and placed them on his shoulders, the new position leaving me open and exposed. I gasped as I felt the blunt head of his cock nudging against my entrance, already slick and ready from my earlier orgasm. He was so large, I could feel myself stretching to accommodate his size as he slowly pushed forward, inch by delicious inch.

"Oh fuck," Ray groaned, his voice strained with pleasure as he finally hilted inside me. I let out a high-pitched whine, my walls fluttering around his thick length. "You were made for me, my Star," he murmured, his hips starting to move in a slow, hard rhythm. "I hope you like it rough..." Before I could even process his words, Ray began to increase his pace, each powerful thrust sending sparks of pleasure-pain shooting through my sensitive body.

The combination of sensations, the lingering ache from my climax, and the new stimulation of his cock driving into me had tears springing to my eyes. I could only cling to him desperately, my nails raking down his back as I surrendered to the overwhelming onslaught of feeling. My screams and moans echoed off the walls, a symphony of lust and ecstasy.

He began thrusting harder, his hips slapping against mine with each powerful stroke. Somehow he never even faltered once, he seemed motivated to make my cunt remember the shape of him. "Fuck, you're so tight, like you were made for me" Ray grunted, his voice steady but clouded with lust and admiration. "I knew you'd feel amazing, but this... shit, you're perfect."

He captured my mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue plundering, claiming every inch of me. Suddenly I felt a hand wrap around my throat, adding to the hazy sensations. I whimpered into his mouth, the feeling of him around me all-consuming.

He hooked my legs higher, which allowed him to go even deeper, and I screamed as he hit a spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids. My pussy clenched around him like a vice, greedily trying to keep him inside, to hold him hostage in my heat.

I cried out, my voice breaking on a sob of ecstasy. "Harder, Ray! Fuck me harder!" I was lost to the pleasure, drowning in the sensation of being so filled, so utterly claimed. I wanted to be ruined, wanted him to mark me, to make it so that I would never forget this moment, this feeling.

He gave me a confident smile as he continued ravishing my insides, knowing I'm getting closer and closer. “Such a pretty slut, taking me so well” I felt my front hit the mattress as he flipped me with an unnatural speed, then immediately slammed back into me. My voice broke as I let out another scream at the sudden intrusion, which I welcomed despite his dick almost reaching too deep.

My insides burned with the flames of passion, igniting the coil in my lower stomach that was about to burst. I gripped the sheet now like an animal, his larger frame fucking me into the mattress vigorously. In that moment we only let out grunts and moans, knowing we were losing ourselves in this instinctual rhythm called sex. The grip on my hips were bruising as he just kept going harder and harder, I felt myself cry into the sheets in ecstasy as the hot flood of my orgasm hit me.

He never once faltered as he fucked me through my orgasm, but it started to feel to much. “Oh god Ray, please, please, please…” Mindless words spilled out of my mouth, from the sheer overstimulation from his thrusts. “You wanted this… my Star. I'm going to ruin you” Despite his words after a few moments he spilled his seed inside me, making me fully his. When he pulled out of me I could feel his cum dripping out of me onto the sheet, I collapsed with a satisfied smile.

“You know if this hero business doesn't work out, you could just be a pornstar.” I watched his reaction to this statement, he looked a bit baffled but confident lighting his cigarette, taking a long drag. “Alright, but only if we partner up.” I gasped in surprise, not expecting his possessiveness to let him respond like that. “You would let others see me?” Ray chuckled in response, inhaling more smoke before he spoke. “I will buy them all off of you, don't even think for a second otherwise, pornstar”

[swappedandtrapped]

Rent Help - Part 1

Hey, first thing I'm posting here. Character consistency with AI is difficult for me, so just go with it.

It wasn't a good time in my life. The pandemic hit, making me unemployed. I stayed at home to avoid getting sick and with nothing to do I was starting to find any excuse to go out of my room. I was renting this flat with another guy I found on Craigslist, Roy.

Roy was my age, he moved in from some place outside the county a few years ago and we managed to stay out of each others' way. Maybe except a few times I heard his booming voice shout at the TV, cursing other players in some online game. He was also too comfortable in the house, taking off his shirt and staying like that even when guests came over.

Slowly, the world came back to order. The quarantines stopped, but I was still out of a job. I ended up searching for a long while. I was struggling and really tried to be frugal. Eating cheap, saving up, the usual. But my savings were about to run out.

I was desperate, and even though I felt bad doing so, I asked Roy if he could lend me the money for rent. Roy, to my disappointment, refused. He said he had really bad experiences with friends he lent money to, but never payed him back. I begged, said it was a sure thing, I was willing to do anything, sign contracts, whatever he wanted.

"Sorry man," He said. "You know how it is, I can't let my friends owe me money," He insisted. "But if you're willing to do something for me in return, I think we can still work something out." I was hesitant. "What do you mean? Like doing your laundry?" "Well. Sort of." He smiled. "Just make sure to be free this weekend so you could help me with that thing." It was either that or become homeless, so I jumped to hug him "Yes, of course! Anything! Thanks man!" "No worries. I'll give you the details Friday morning."

The week went by quick. I wasn't sure what he wanted, but I guessed it was just some house work or doing errands for him. He was straight, so anything sex related was out of the question. I relaxed and knew that I won't be kicked out of my place. At least this month.

…

Friday morning came, but my alarm didn't go off. I woke from the direct sunlight peaking through the window curtains when I knew that my window was facing west. But the first thing that I knew was wrong was the smell. Something smelled... Wrong... Like someone else's laundry. In my half-asleep state, I turned on my side to get my phone to check the time. Eyes still closed, I couldn't feel the phone on my nightstand. I opened my eyes to see where the hell was it, but my heart stopped when I first saw my hand.

It definitely wasn't my hand. Darker skin, hairier, and a bit bigger than mine. I saw it was attached to a foreign arm with the same features of the hand. Darker skin, more hair, and bigger than mine. I gasped in fright and used the hand and arm to take off the blanket and reveal what was underneath.

Not my body. This is definitely not my body. I was wearing only pajama shorts, which I never do. My chest was thick, heavy, and hairy. My gut spilling over its own weight. My legs wiggled with fat from my movement. Wait, is this… Roy's body? I touched my chin and felt the beard Roy had. I took a look up from my body and saw I was actually in his bed, which is also in his room. What the fuck happened to me? What is going on? I run to a mirror to see if my fear is true. All I saw was Roy, having the same expression of horror I had.

I screamed, only to quickly stop and cover my mouth. What the hell was this sound coming out of me? "Ahh, test, test." I tried to listen and realized I also heard Roy's voice coming my throat. MY throat! I couldn't escape it. I tried looking for a way out of this body, clawing my skin to find an opening, but all I did was hurt myself.

I was out of breath. I started to sweat. The world was spinning and I had to sit down. After crashing on the shared living room sofa, my heartbeat lowered to a normal pace, but I was still shocked. "What the fu-" I said, surprised again to hear Roy's accent through my teeth. Was this a dream? What the fuck is going on?

"Can you keep it down? It's barely 8 o'clock." a voice behind me said. My voice. My real voice. I looked up to see who I assumed was "Roy?". I stood up to face him. "I didn't think you'd wake up this early, but whatever, I guess we can do this now." "You… You knew about this?" I stammered. "Wait. Did YOU do this?!" "Don't make a big deal out of it man, I told you I'll needed you on Friday." "FOR WHAT!?" I shouted, with his booming voice. "For replacing you?!"

"Don't give yourself too much credit. It's just for this weekend.". He started getting ready to go out. "And I don't need you to replace me, I just needed to not be me for a bit." "WHAT THE FUCK ROY?!" I started getting out of breath again. Maybe even a low-key panic attack. "Why didn't you say anything about that? I thought I was just gonna clean your room or something!"

"I don't understand why you're so upset. You're getting free rent money for basically just sitting on your ass all day." "Because you TOOK MY BODY." "Don't be dramatic, it's just for the weekend. I'm borrowing it." He put on my coat on his way out. "Couldn't you tell me before? How did you even do this?"

"That's not important, I've had this thing since I was little." He started putting on my shoes and tying his shoelaces. Listen, if you don't want this, we can switch back now, but forget about the rent. I'm not giving out free money. It's your choice."

I started to form an insult, but quickly realized this might be my only option. And is being in Roy's body for a weekend really that bad?

"And this is just for the weekend?" "Yes." "And all I have to do is stay here?" "Or go out, I don't care. I just need your body." "But why?" "That's where the money comes in. Most of the pay is for you being discreet about this." The gears in my head turned. "What, like something illegal? Sex? Don't do weird shit in my body." "Nothing sketchy, I promise, but I really need to go. I'll be back tomorrow."

He closed the door after him, leaving me still shocked at the situation he got me into.

Thanks for reading. Part 2 out soon.

[sensei-venus]

(Smut, GirlCock!Sam, Shower Sex, Almost Caught in the Act)

The idea of Sam being so pussy whipped that she begs Reader to come over all the time when her family is out.

They hook up and have sex in her room because she’s scared they are going to pass out and get caught if they do it anywhere else in the house. Sometimes it’s so bad that Sam basically has her pants half way down and just fucks the shit out of a half clothed Reader sideways on the bed. Borderline humping into the poor girl. It’s just sweaty and nasty.

The worst point in their little sexual adventure was when the two almost got caught by Amanda.

Sam was able to get Reader to come over while her mom and dad were out getting groceries while Anthony was out hanging with friends. It seemed like the best time for the two of them to hook up. She knew her parents would be out most of the day leaving a huge time gap for the two girls to have some much needed fun. Reader was happy to help her girlfriend out as soon as she got the text to come over.

They end up fucking for almost half the day until Sam finally realizes her parents should be home soon.

In a panting haze the two finally stop to get their composure. Just laying on the bed in a sweating panting mess. Sam’s hair is stuck to her face and Reader is covered in cum, inside and out. After a little while of just cuddling in each others arms they opt to get in the shower. Both of them needing to wash off, Reader needing to get clean to leave and Sam so that her parents didn’t question her unruly post sex look. They grab their clothes, dump them onto the bathroom floor.

What was supposed to be just a quick shower turns into a heavy make out session under the shower head, which then tunes into Sam bending Reader over and plowing into her form behind while she grips the tile wall. In some kind of luck being so tired makes them less prone to making to loud of sounds while going at it. The water from the shower covers up what sound they do make.

The sound that DOES end up scarring the shit out of them is the loud knock from outside the bathroom door.

“Sam are you in there? Me and your dad just got home with a truck full of groceries. Can you come down stairs and help put them away?”

Sam has the mind to shove a hand over Readers mouth just before she can squeal from the thick cock hitting the right spot inside her. She swears her eyes cross at that moment.

“U-uhh yeah mom I’ll be out as soon as I can! I just got in so it might be a minute!” Voice almost cracking in shock.

“Okay but please hurry, your dad wants to go out golfing with one of his friends at the county club later. We need the groceries away by then.”

She can’t hear over the running shower but she can only guess her mom left. She hopes she at least closed her bedroom door. In that moment she mentally sighs, thankful for the fact they brought their clothes into the bathroom.

Who knows what her mom would have done if she found Readers clothes on the bedroom floor.

She can’t think much about it because Reader is suddenly gripping down on her cock which has he gasping. The sudden adrenaline rush has both of them on a high. Almost getting caught while in the act has both girls on hyper drive. It doesn’t take much to have them cumming.

Reader ultimately ends up squirting, shaking against the wall and almost falling over. If it wasn’t for Sam holding her up she would have definitely fallen over in seconds. Her orgasm has Sam moaning out, dick sliding out from her girlfriend twitching cunt where she then unloads all over the chubby girls thick back. Thick white spurts fall over the girls fat ass and back. It’s quick to be washed away by the now lukewarm water.

Moments later the two are rushing to get out of the shower and dry off before shoving their clothes back on. When Sam cracks open the door she fines her door closed and room undisturbed. 

They kiss goodbye before Reader is shimmying out of the window, hoping down from the roof and quietly sneaking out the back gate.

Sam falls onto her bed with a groan but not before remembering the reason they almost got caught in the first place.

Stupid groceries.

[velvet-paradox]

Chaste

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Virgin!König x Female reader Summary: König finally meets his match. Length: Long (idk what's gotten into me with these but you are welcome) Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, virginity loss, kissing, (protected) p in v, detailed smut. ENJOY!!!

He's panicking.

He can practically hear his hair growing, his pants are too tight, his hands are getting that weird kind of clammy he gets when he's about to take aim. He's beginning to sweat and is currently now wondering if wearing a white button up was the right choice.

He already stands out.

Of course he does. And not just by height alone, not to mention the weight his body carries, how broad his shoulders are. Also the crisp mask that covers his face and drapes around his shoulders is a dead give away. He slouched a little to make room for the chattering couple headed over to get their seats, giving him shy smiles but he knows their whispering about him. Their always whispering about him. Maybe he should just leave, get out of dodge, mention he's not feeling well, which is only partially true.

He's so sick with nerves. His anxiety meter is about explode.

….

Months of talking, letters sent over state, county, and country lines. You even had his SAT phone number just in case! It felt silly at first, he hid the frequent Pen Pal flyer that hung amongst other such distractions at the base. There were plenty of names to choose from with just a sprinkle of information.

Rhys was 26, worked in IT, loves video games. Tegan 32, makes and sells seashell earrings. Statler, 38, enjoyed hiking and the outdoors. Nate, 33, was a fisherman, Trout specificity. His blue eyes scanned the sheet until one name stood out to him for some reason.

He started writing to you immediately and he couldn't seem to stop. After the third letter exchange you gave him your social handles and phone number. God he was so nervous to hit the call button, but he was pleased when you answered after the first ring.

He'd get a tingly feeling in his gut when his civie phone would ping, a well sought out and selected little chime that singled you out from the rest. It took him hours to find just the right sound that not only would remind him of you but one so defined that if he were to hear it he'd jump out of bed immediately. It didn't even have to be a selfie to get him smiling, a simple good morning handsome would suffice.

'How's your day going so far?'

'I'm proud of you.'

'Oh the praise!'

You threw buckets of it at him and he gobbled it up with glee. He was curious how well he could conduct himself in person. Hopefully not bust in his jeans like some degenerate.

He'd be lying if it didn't get him hard though, his thick cock pulsing from your honest affirmations, holding and biting the hem of his shirt as he jerked off.

Coming to the niceties that would fall from your lips.

"Come on, come on. I'm right there, oh you look so cute. Bet you give great hugs, fuck, to feel you against me. Oh god!"

He couldn't help it.

It made him feral, groaning your name only made him work and twist his fist even tighter, even harder. He felt a little guilty though, this was your first time meeting in person and he'd already jerked off to the thought of you twice this week alone.

The theatre was getting filled up rather quickly as he sat at the top, next to the stairs so he could survey the area. It was better to have your back against the wall than to be vulnerable and in sight. Combat has taught him that very early on.

He looked down at his watch, 7:24. The movie was to start soon but where were you? Was this a joke to you, was he the joke? Were you standing him up. Were you out with someone else? Maybe you were ashamed to be seen with the likes of him. Maybe this was a bad idea-

"König!" He looked started until he saw you at the bottom of the stairs, excitedly waving as you ran up the stairs, two at time once you got closer. Excusing yourself to others finding seats. He stood to show you he'd saved you a seat, certainly inot excpecting you to jump at him, into his arms. Luckily for the both of you he's got incredible reflexes.

"You're bigger than I thought!" You exclaimed when he set you down.

Looking over your pretty sundress, with its' delicate floral patterns and pastel shade beneath. Your sneakers were bright and looked fresh right out of the box.

"I get that a lot. Um, here, I have saved you a seat."

"You mean iyou're not my seat?"

Oh dear!

You giggled and told him you were only joking, he wouldn't have minded really but he was unsure how you'd feel about feeling him half-hard already from seeing you, smelling your perfume that he hoped would last throughout the night. Possibly linger on his clothes long after you split.

You wiggled down in the saved spot, looping your arm through his chatting away before the lights dimmed down and the trailers emerged on the screen.

During the film he feels you breathing, wiggling and bumping up against his arm. You're so distracting even though you staring forward and not at him like he's looking at you. You smell so nice, your skin is soft and in the brighter scenes on the screen he can see down the front of your dress. He had to correct himself twice. No fucking staring, big man!

"So! What did you think?" you ask joyfully as you left the theater, still attached to his arm.

He would actually have an answer if he weren't watching you for most of the movie. So he shrugs and gives hopefully a somewhat honest answer.

"I liked it." He didn't have a lack of restriction when you mentioned your favorite movie was getting a long awaited sequel and that it would be in theaters by the time he got back from deployment.

"I think it held up quite nicely, I'm glad they went the route they did. Rumor had it they were just gonna' recycle the same old script and mix some junk in there for flavor. Wait, we didn't get any snacks, you've gotta' be starving, you didn't eat any popcorn or candy!"

" 'm alright, Y/N."

"Are you sure? There's a nice little diner just down the road a bit. I'll even feed you if you want." Your face lights up with a smile and a wink and König is blushing all over beneath his hood. How could he say no to that?

You idid in fact feed him a few bites of your biscuits and gravy, he'd seen it before but was always turned off by the fact he may not enjoy the combination. So he he stuck to his usual soft scramble eggs platter they offered. The gravy wasn't bad.

"So how many dates have you been on? I imagine one sees 'experienced military' gets you a fair share of dinners and phone numbers."

König choked on his coffee under the mask. He set the cup down but kept his hands around the mug for warmth. "Uh… you are actually my first."

"Really? Of the week?" You enquired sweetly.

He shook his head. "Nein."

"Ohhhh of the month?"

Again he shook his head.

"Of the year?" You asked, tilting your head.

"Of forever. You are my first date, officially."

"EVER?!" you quickly covered your mouth and smiled at him across the checkerboard table top. "I'm your first date?! Talk about pressure! Now I really gotta' step up and show you a good time. Can't have you going around destroying my reputation."

His brows creased behind the mask. "You have a reputation?"

"No but it would be pretty neat if I did!" Your laugh made his stomach lurch and for the first time, in a very long time, he might actually be a little happy.

"Are we going for a walk now?" König asked once outside the diner, the air had cooled off a bit which was a relief because your flirting and smiling face was making him hot beneath the collar. Fingers and toes crossed he wasn't visibly sweating.

"Oh. Do you want to?"

"Is that not what you're supposed to do?"

"I mean you can. There's no rules."

"That's what they do in the movies." König pondered out loud. He'd seen in done so many times he just thought 'oh I'm going on a date, eat dinner, then walk around for a bit'. No harm in that really. Now he felt embarrassed and kind of ticked off that he'd had that logged away in his memory for so many years.

"We can walk, there's a park with a pond behind those trees over there."

Before he can stuff his shame back into his pocket, he's being yanked across the street, dodging some traffic and a dog that should have been on a leash.

It was nice. He didn't have to think so much, you were taking the lead which was refreshing. You weren't scared of him, or threatened by his size. He dwarfed your body easily, no questions asked. Used to orders from the higher ups, though a colonel himself, he was raised on a routine, strict guidelines to follow correctly. With you, even for this first initial date, he was so attracted to you, so much so that he allowed you to drag his weight around the park.

"Maybe next time I could cook for you. Would you like that?" You asked, strolling along the cobblestones. The branches swaying in the warm night air. Petals from some rose bushes had fallen around the base of the bush like a halo.

His heart surged. "There is going to be a next time?"

"I hope so."

"I wasn't sure if maybe you were taking pity on me."

"I'm not like that. I'm having a good time with you. You're safe with me ya' know?" You stopped and held his hand, using it for leverage to pull yourself up to stand on a park bench. You were closer now, your eyes bright and face aglow. He was in trouble. Even more so when you placed your hands on his shoulders, he walked closer and smiled when you hugged him again.

He plucked one of the roses out from the bush and kept it hidden behind his back while you walked around a bit more before parting ways. The way you squealed with delight, how cheeky you got, how you inhaled the given rose made him smile. He hadn't felt like this before.

….

"What's got you in a mood?" Simon asked once he was back on base. The lieutenant shared an on-suite room with him, just coming back from the showers by the looks of it. König had maybe done a little spin once in the safety of his room.

"Nothing, L.T." König slipped the movie stub into his keep sake box. Locked of course, inside held his personal belongings, his passports, SAT phone, all your letters and a few polaroid's you'd taken.

"Ah, you can't hid nothin' from me, colonel. I know ye' too well, yer jus' like me." Simon finished shaking out his wet blonde hair like a dog, watching him lock the box with the key.

"I am nothing like you Simon, the only things we have in common are military backgrounds and close in height." König snorted.

"That's what you think! So where were ya'?"

"I had a date, thank you very much." König admitted and by the gafwed noise Simon made, maybe he should have kept his big mouth shut. Because now Ghost was wild eyed and begging for gossip, sitting down next to him on his bed, getting water everywhere. He'd have to change out his sheets now.

"You on a date, sir? I can't wrap my head aroun' that!"

"She's nice and funny and I didn't have to think so much. No jumping through hoops with this one, she's direct and very easy on the eyes. And she wants to cook for me." König couldn't help it, once he got going telling Simon little pieces about you, Simon turned into mush, collecting these little nuggets like breadcrumbs.

"Cook for you? Hot damn, König, you must've made some impression."

"Ja, I guess I did."

"So what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. I just, I am not experienced in this, talking phase or dating, relationships. That sort of thing is in the unknown to me. I barely have any friends, no romantic affairs, no wild tales of my youth. You know me, I signed up the moment I could. All I know is this," König exclaimed, gesturing to their barrack room. Cold and lonely, nothing cozy about the place. Just beige, white and cement. No color. Drab. "What if that's not enough for a woman like her?"

"Look man, I don't know this bird but what I do know is this," Simon clapped him on the back twice. "You had a successful date, mission complete. You're about to get a free dinner out of a lovely gal and who knows, she likes you this much to cook for ya'. I'd say you're enough."

He thought about that all night. Hung up his white shirt, after inhaling it when Simon left, smiling into the crisp fabric because your scent was faintly there. Was he enough? He worried a hole into the ceiling, laying there in his sweats and socks.

You texted him that you had gotten home safe, sending a quick picture of yourself holding the rose to your face. He stared at it for little longer before closing his eyes.

….

"I'm sorry to break it to you boys, but we've been called into action. Boots on the ground, simple recon. I know I know. Hit me with it already," Captain John Price announced a few days later in the debriefing room. His statement was met with groans of disappointment, sighs of defeat. They just gotten back to base, couldn't they found a better, eager group of recruits for a recon? Even the colonel let out a huff, tapping his foot against the table. "Two days time and we head out. Dismissed."

König bit at the inside of his cheek the whole way back to his room, taken away from you yet again. He grabbed his phone and pulled up your contact photo. It always gave him pause when he saw you now, your face, make up or bare. The one he chose was you fresh out of the shower in your bathroom, soft, wet, supple skin. Little drops of water clung to your neck. You were smiling, no teeth, cheeks high and with a wink you snapped it just for him. This one was nowhere to be found on any of your socials and that made him feel a little better. You did like him, enjoy his company.

"Hey, are you busy?" He'd asked when you picked up right away, dogs barking in the background as you told Barkley to 'cool his jets!'.

Whatever that meant. You were dog sitting for a friend for a few days, you did that fairly often as you had a whole camera reel of you playing with him, laying around, posing. Barkley is very photogenic.

"Nope, just at the dog park, why? What's up?"

"Do you think I uh, maybe I could stop by. I need to talk to you about something."

"Oh? Yeah sure, I'll just uh, send you my location. We'll see you soon König! Say bye Barkley!"

To König's surprise the dog did in fact bark back.

You lived in a beautiful brownstone building close by, off street parking, lots of trees and a decorated stoop. The top step had a decent chunk missing on the left side. He turned off his bike, flipping open the visor as he looked for your apartment number on the buzzer. The door unlocked and up the stairs he went, second floor, third door in the middle. He only knocked once before you were there, opening the door and trying your hardest of keep Barkley from escaping.

"Sorry, he's kinda' wound up. Got himself a pretty good stick, he's very proud of himself."

König had to duck to get inside, like most places, door frames were not made for men the size of small houses. He took off his helmet and kept it tucked under his arm. Barkley, your two year old Doberman slid into the hallway, holding said stick in his mouth.

Barkley stopped short and tilted his head to the side, bright white teeth started to unfurl.

"Barkley, no. We like him, he's my special friend, okay?"

"Might be the mask." König chuckled, his heart beating a little bit faster, he carefully pulled it off and held it out to the pet. I'm her 'special' friend, he thought gleefully. He didn't even recognize what he'd just done until he looked up at you, blinking quietly, shocked.

"What?"

"You just… you just took off your mask." You sounded almost breathless, slowly pointing at him.

Oh no!

König went to quickly put it back on but in his haste and excitement Barkley snatched it with his teeth and ran into the living room.

"Get back here you silly thing!" You shouted and followed him, he could hear you tussling and trying to negotiate with Barkley while König freaked out in the kitchen. How could he have let this happen? What had gotten into him? Just exposed his face to civilian, a woman he was actually interested in? Oh this was bad, so vary bad. What if you thought he looked like a monster, turned off by his exterior? He'd never live with himself!

A little out of breath but smiling you popped in, joining him at the counter.

"Sorry about that, cutie. He's been in a playful mood all day." You were holding out the mask with one hand and covering your eyes, head turned to the side.

What did you call him?

He took it and hastily slipped it back on, righting it so he could actually see.

"Better?" You asked and took a little peek, making sure he had put the streaked cloth back on to his head.

"Much."

"I mean it though; you are a cutie. I mean, I knew you would be, but seeing your bare face, sheesh. Could've warned a girl, huh?" You lightheartedly sighed, fixed your shirt and bit bumped into his shoulder on purpose, resting your head there, looking up at him with those eyes, those lashes. He never wanted to kiss someone so much as he did right then.

"You actually… you think I'm cute?" He blushed something fierce, from the base of his neck, to the cartilage of his ears, he was burning up.

"Uh huh. Just like you think I'm cute."

"You… oh no, nein nein, you are… spectacular. I could write poetry about you! A muse. I don't know how this happened but, you came to me like a siren in the night, calling out to me to rest at your shore. Surely you might drown me, a risk I am willing to take. But instead you took pity on me, let me go after luring me into your clutches."

"Wow. That's uh, that's some high ass praise. I don't think anyone has ever been that excited about me before." You squeezed his arm, he could feel your pulse, the added warmth.

"Well they were all fools then."

"Yeah, I guess so." You stared at each other, not saying a word, just looking. Usually König couldn't stand eye contact, only to his superiors, had to give them recognition and attention of course. But this was the longest he'd looked at someone this long. It didn't feel as jittery as he was used to. Eyes flickering over each other, mapping out your face, the shape of your ears, the curve of your mouth. Which was soon turning into a smile.

"You said you had something to tell me."

"Oh! Right right, um, sorry. I know I just got back but, according to this morning I'll be MIA again."

It hurt to say it, to know he'd be gone from you once you two had hit it off so well, it stung when your face dropped and you looked away from him. It burned like hell when you pulled away.

"You just got here!"

"I know but what the captain says goes." König shrugged.

"Gimmie' his number."

"What?"

"Your captain! I oughta' give him a piece of my mind for this. I finally find a decent guy, we have crazy chemistry and he's just gonna' steal you away again? uh uh, not on my watch!"

Concern quickly left when you broke out in hysterics, doubling over with laughter, pushing his arm playfully. Clearly Barkley's energy was rubbing off on you!

"Don't worry König," you grinned. "I'll be here when you get back."

….

The three day recon had turned quickly sour and was now on its' 6th consecutive day. The target was being moved around at all hours of the day and once they thought they had gotten their man, they were a step and a half behind. Tedious work.

In the safehouse, face lit up by his phone screen he waited for those little dots to convert into text.

'I miss you, I hope you're being safe out there. Weather has been messy back home. Did you find an apartment you like yet? Not saying you have to but my building has a FOR RENT sign up!'

'Oh we would be so close'

'you mean neighbors :)'

The thought of living off base, not having to share a room with Simon any longer would be a real treat. Moving would be a breeze, he could always buy a pull out couch if he wanted. He didn't pack much and was not actually too sentimental, until recently that is.

You picked him up from the base, waiting patently by your car when he exited the helo, duffel over his shoulder in his gear. He smiled behind the hood at you waving to him wildly with both hands, as if he could ever miss your beaming face.

"Hiya cutie! Thought I'd surprise ya'. You look massive in uniform, damn!"

He maybe blushed a little as the rest of the company walked past. "I missed you terribly, my dear." König happily lifted you off your feet in an embrace. "I can't stop thinking about you."

"Me either. Have you got stuff to do here or do you wanna' come home with me?"

Home? With… you.

He swallowed, seeing Ghost give him a thumbs up as he walked by. The FOR RENT sign should have been flashing neon lights at him as he rode passenger, holding his things in his thick lap as you pulled in front. Second floor, third door from the middle; he remembered. He also took a mental note of the phone number to call if interested.

"I know you probably don't have--"

"One sec!"

You held up a finger and ran into your bedroom, you came back with a small container. You had taken the time, the care to make him a little treat. How thoughtful. You had remembered what soap he mentioned he liked, preferred body oil to lotion, too sticky. A fresh pair of shampoo and conditioners, face wash. You were taking care of him.

You smiled up at him, presenting it to him. "For you."

"For me? You did not have to do any of this." He said, noticing there were fresh washcloths and an exfoliating cloth.

"I know. I wanted to. You know if case you stay over sometimes."

"You um want me to sleep over? In your space?"

"When you're ready."

After using your shower, incredible water pressure he thought, he toweled off and decided to keep his face bare. Tossing the mask, along with his uniform into a pile on top of his duffel bag.

Something smelled delicious when he came around the corner, you had an apron on over your skirt and top, your legs looked amazing in those pantyhose. The thought of shredding them lingered in his brain hours later. The quick inhale of your breath when you saw his face again, the cute little grin, the way your mouth twitched. How you continued to call him cutie.

"You went through all this trouble, there must be something I can do." König sighed as you gathered up the plates.

"It's not a problem König, I enjoy cooking. It's my love language I guess." You said with a shrug, sure of yourself as you rinsed them off a bit before adding them to your dishwasher. If the apartment(s) for rent in your building were anything like this, he would have made the score of a lifetime! A gorgeous woman interested in him, doting on him, cooking for him, calling him cute… and to not deal with Simon.

He'd hit the lottery!

"If you want to do something in return," you sang, wiping off your hands and took his in yours. "You can snuggle me on the couch. Deal?"

Deal.

He'd thought about it for months, how he would hold you in his arms, craddle you there, play with your hair, the hem of your shirt. To smell you, to feel you. Touch you. He would be lying if he hadn't dreamt up a life with you. He was, after all, getting of that settling down phase of his life.

You had the plushiest of blankets draped over the back of your couch that you dragged over you two once you got comfortable. Leaning against his side, tucked beneath his armpit. He was greatful he had an extra set of clothes in that bag of his, because laying against his unifomr, 6 days of sweat and grim would inot be ideal.

He drummed his fingers over your shoulder, you are so warm, he thought, even more so when you laced your much smaller fingers with his.

"I'm not, I'm not as experienced as you might think." He said suddenly, before you got the chance to see him grimace.

"I know. You said I was your first date."

"Ja, you were. In fact, if you desired, you would be my first; everything."

He got a little nervous when you stayed quiet before turning your head up against his shoulder, touching his jaw. "Everything?"

"Well, I once held a girls' hand and she got grossed out because I got all clammy, she made me so nervous! I did not know what to do." König expressed.

"That's ok. You're fine."

"You mean, you're… you're not weirded out by that?"

"No way, cutie. If you want, we can take easy steps. Remember what I told you on our first date?" You smiled, what a wonderful smile, and patted his cheek, thumbing over the bone. "You are safe with me, I meant it then and I mean it now."

"What do you mean by easy steps?"

"Well, we can hold hands like this or we can kiss, we can make out, you can touch me if you want."

"Do you want me to? Touch you that is."

You snorted out a laugh and faced him on the couch, sad that your body heat was leaving him wanting more. Come back here hase!

"Not to be a little perv, but what I want you to do to me, is a lot more than just touching."

"Like what?"

"Ah, curiosity killed the cat you know? um, let's see." You pondered, tapping your chin before giving a full answer. "I want to kiss you, all over. And I mean all over, I want to learn your body, what you like what you don't like. Good and bad touches. I want to your hold your hand over my heart so you can feel how much I want you. I also want you to learn me as well, feel me, inside and out. Taste me."

God that sounded amazing. How he had wanted the same, had dreamt about it, had stroked his cock to it. Watching porn, situations he wanted to be in with you. All the positions he knew and maybe more than you knew, that you could teach him. Oh the possibilities!

But then…

"What if I'm not good at it?"

"That's what practice is for silly!" You bopped him on the nose.

"You mean this wouldn't be like a --"

"One time thing? Heavens no! König, I see you as my boyfriend. We're in a relationship."

A relationship. He's your boyfriend. You his lady. Jackpot indeed!

"Simon is definitely going to give me shit for that, first relationship and I'm almost 40!"

"There is no rush. People make such a big deal out of sex and relationships when its' really not that complicated. Either you do it or don't. You're either turned on by the idea or the intimacy, or you can go without. No two people are the same. Look, if you want like a routine or itinerary, I know you're used to that, I could come up with a game plan. Get you prepared."

"You would do that for me?"

"König, I would do anything for you."

….

Back on base he pulled up his tablet, excited, giddy with the potential of being intimate with you. He didn't even have time to jerk off, instead his mind was a cluster fuck of what you had in store for him. How exciting! You had quickly made a checklist of sorts, he was eager to punch each line, each owrd, each iactivity into his tablet.

Now this he could work with.

He even made time to call up your landlord, leaving a message after hours.

He was going to know your body like coordinates and that, for whatever reason, made sense and excited him even further. His pants getting a bit tight as he laid on his bed.

What Y/N enjoys (FOR YOUR EYES ONLY CUTIE ;p )

Hitting all the bases

The good, the bad, the absolutely NOT

You were thorough, giving just enough information as he logged it all in. Only hiding his evidence as if it were pornography when Simon popped into the room, unannounced, tossing him a stolen cinnamon roll. His favorite.

"Now are you sure? We don't have to do anything." Your voice was even as you two sat on your couch, he'd been excited when you suggested sitting in his lap. Eager to feel you against him, you sat across his large thighs, kicking and rubbing your feet against the cushions in anticicpation.

"I'm positive. Green." He nodded several times, holding on to your side. His fingers twitched when you lifted off the mask, you smiled and booped him on the end of his nose.

"Ready?"

"Here goes." König voiced, though it sounded more like he was talking to himself then to you.

He closed his eyes, tried not to squeeze them so tight, but dammit if this wasn't nerve wracking! He's a grown man, he's been to war, has seen carnage and gore. Has had a lot of it on his own hands, under his nails, stained clothing, broken bones. Scars, some self made, most of the others had been fought for. That, oh he could do that stuff in his sleep but this… being vulnerable, not in his repertoire.

He puckered up and you snickered. "What are you doing?"

His blue eyes opened in a panic. "What? I thought we were going to kiss."

"Well, yeah, we are but not like that. That's some Hollywood mumbo jumbo. A kiss needs to be felt out like, like this." You held his face in your hands, looking into his eyes softly, and tilted your head. With your eyes looking down at his mouth he felt your lips against his own, plump and warm. Ghosting them there before you shut your eyes and pressed your mouths together.

Oh, that's nice.

He breathed you in, fingers relaxing on your ribs as you started to move your mouth now, opening your lips a little wider, taking his top one solely into your mouth. You hummed and pressed your body against him before pulling back a few inches.

"See, like that. That's just a basic--"

König surged forward then, kissing you a little harder, taken aback but not unwarranted you met him kiss for kiss, smacking against one another. You made him jolt when you licked the seam of his lips, on instinct, and because it kind of tickled, but he let you in. Tasting him, his tongue seemed to know what to do as you made out. You pulled back once more, out of breath and smiling.

"You're a fast learner. Pretty damn good at it too, you're a natural."

You mused and kissed him one more time.

Learning the bases was pretty straightforward and simple.

First base, was already established. Second wasn't as trembling of a thought when you guided his hands when he faltered. You wore a dress this time, laid back on your bed, ankles crossed as he laid next to you, mapping out your body.

Your neck was soft under his calloused palm, your collar, he froze when all he wanted to do was hold your breast. You sat up enough on to your elbows for him to do so.

"Go on, give my girls' a good squeeze." You winked and smirked when he followed orders. They were soft and supple in his large hands, the noise you made urged him further, smoothing over your stomach, your thighs. God your thighs, he thought. How plush and how nice they would feel around his waist, around his head.

"That's it König, you're doing such a good-- oh!" You snapped your mouth shut when he covered your entire mound with his hand, feeling you pulse and twitch. He smiled and leaned down for a kiss.

"Color? Can I look?"

"Fuckin' green all the way. You can do more than look, hot stuff!"

Oh did he look. Eyes paying close attention to you pulling off your panties, tossing them off the edge of your bed, spreading your legs as he moved into a sniper position.

Not only did he look but he touched, moving your legs apart, smiling to himself that he could see a line of arousal leaking down your slit. iI did that! I did that! Your body pulsed around him, made him feel dizzy with need. Your pussy is so pretty, he thought.

Or at least he thought he only said to himself.

"Well thanks."

"Mind if I--"

"I told you green, cutie. She won't bite." Your chuckle disappeared into an inhale when he started to touch you, feel you, the whines you made were making the man rock hard, his skin was too tight and this was the best decision he'd made in a long fucking time.

You came around his fingers twice when you showed him what you liked, knuckle deep in your cunt, soothing your engorged bundle of nerves, he even snuck in a kiss or two. The way you showed him how to massage the sensitive skin around, how you liked to make a V with fingers, displaying the tender meat of your cunt.

"Oh baby that's it! That's it!"

….

"You're moving quite fast, König." Simon said on his last evening at the base, emptying the already sparse on-suite room. He had all of his belongings, except for a bed, in only 3 standard issue duffels.

"For the last time, Riley, I am moving into the same building as Y/N, not in with her."

"Still! You barely know the bird." Simon tried to reason, watching König move about the room, making sure he didn't leave anything of importance behind.

"I know enough Simon, enough to get me out of this linen closest next to your snoring ass."

"It's not that bad!"

"Simon; these walls are cement, why can I hear you breathing? Got yourself a real problem. Should get that checked out asap."

Ghost rolled his eyes and König chuckled. "Just so you know I am taking over your room as soon as you leave base. More room for me then! No take backs' either!"

"Have it big man, I'll see you around."

You weren't just some woman he just met, not a toy like Johnny liked to call his little bunk bunnies. You were his girlfriend, still a shocker to say it out loud. König has a little lady of his own.

The move in was easy, he'd ordered a new bed online. He slept at your place until it came, as a housewarming gift, you got him his first candle of the season and silk pillowcases that you absolutely swore by.

You two tested it out, bouncing on it after an impromptu pillow fight that landed you in his lap. His eyes never left yours as you tossed one of the pillows away, sitting on him.

"Is this okay?" You asked and must've seen the twitch on his faintly scarred bottom lip.

"You're perfect." His breath came out lighter than usually, had more of soft ring to it.

Your pretty face lit up, practically glowing before leaning down to kiss him. Gently, touching his face, over his arms, his hands finding purchase on your hips. He breathed you in, molding himself to you.

"Open your mouth baby."

He groaned and listened, the feeling of your tongue slipping into his mouth. Tangling together, the noises you made were fantastic, rolling your hips against his. One hand moved up under your shirt, feeling your back, you wiggled further into him.

Baby still sounded so foreign, he had never been one to be made to feel small. Hell, he was 5'11 in the fifth grade! But the way you sighed it or moaned it, he did feel softer. Lighter.

König boldly sat up, holding you close and pulled back, looking over your spit slicked lips. "Take off your clothes." Even bolder still, he held your eye contact. Your left eye twitched.

"Are you sure?"

It was his turn to cup your face, tilting his head, brushing his lips over yours. "Ja, I want to. I want to do this with you."

"Color system?"

"Ja, sounds good to me."

Like a sly fox, you backed your way out of his lap, standing between his legs. He watched you undress, peeling down your leggings one at a time. A glimpse of your lace red underwear. You then peeled your top off. Oh dear, it was a matching set! König licked his lips, his heart going to battle with his ribcage as you grinned and climbed back into his lap. His favorite shade.

"It's your lucky night baby. I just picked these out last night."

"You planned to show me these ? How did you know I would be ready?"

"I didn't!" He watched your heaving chest, breasts so close to his face he could smell your sweat and perfume, intoxicating him further. "I just knew I wanted to buy it to wear for you."

"You are going to be the death of me. You look like a dream."

"I'm a real vision, huh?" You chuckled and kissed him again.

He couldn't believe this was finally happening, you took your time. Letting him slide down the straps of your new bra, mouthing over your neck and collar. You huffed out a breath and unclasped it, peeling it away to expose your upper half.

"You alright?" You asked, he went deaf for a moment looking at your tits, right in front of his face. He blinked blearily up at you, hands on his shoulders.

"Again, my dear, you are perfect." He cupped them, urged on by your hands over his own, giving them a squeeze. You inhaled his name when he leaned forward, taking an already pebbled nipple into his mouth. Lapping at the taste of you, your hands in his hair as he tasted your skin. He treated the other same, indulging as he went on.

"Green?" He asked and you nodded.

He rolled you onto your back, his pants were getting uncomfortable and he soon felt overly dressed. His room was bare, save for the new bed and sheets, a sturdy nightstand and his belongings still mostly in those duffels but it felt right. To have you here, reaching out for him once he was out of his pants.

Your legs opened for him, fitting himself in between there, rocking side to side to fit.

"Condoms?"

"I have some in the nightstand." König reached over you, fumbled around for a bit until he grabbed the unopened box.

"This should be plenty."

You rolled your head over to see a larger than expected box, giggling beneath him. "You planning on a marathon there, tiger? Goodness!"

"Well I wanted to be prepared! Is that so wrong?"

"No, cutie. I'm just givin' you shit is all," you brushed back his hair, looking at him so sweetly, moving your hips just so, the lace of your underwear felt disgustingly good against the crotch of his boxers. "Do you want me to suck you off first?"

He went rigid, the thought of your beautiful mouth on his dick, laced with spit and pre-cum, slipping in and out of your mouth… he was grateful in that moment that he had decided to jerk off in the shower that morning. Can't be running around with you with a loaded gun.

"Maybe after." König sucked in a breath when you slipped a hand between your bodies, groping over his groin, rock fucking hard for you. "I'm so ready for you I think I might bust from that alone."

"What an ego boost." You breathed out, low and full of lust. He'd never heard you sound like that and it was because of him. Because he made you feel that way, desire licked behind your eyes and you bit your lip. "You are so hard right now!"

"I'm always hard for you." König admitted, kissing you, enjoying your hands in his hair, tugging lightly at his scalp. He hoped you would do it a little harder once he was finally inside you.

With a grin you dug your nails into his shoulder, "Whenever you're ready, tiger. I'm all yours."

König eagerly rubbed you through your panties, wetness forming on the pads of his fingers, circling your clit like you had taught him a few weeks ago. He moved them aside as you kissed, gasping into your mouth when you moved a bit, his weight on you welcomed with wide and open arms.

You tugged at his shirt. "Take this off, baby. Wanna' see you."

"Uh it's a little iffy under there." König hung his head against your own.

"Baby," you crooned rubbing your thumbs over his chin. "I want all of you. You're safe with me, remember?"

"There's just a lot goin' on under this shirt." His laugh held little to no humor, scars of old, past battles.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you, my dear. I just… only my company has seen me shirtless. Their used to what messes can be made in combat."

"Well," you started. "It's up to you, but I'm telling you right now, I will love all of your stripes. No matter where they came from."

König couldn't kiss you harder or fast enough, fucking his tongue into your mouth would soon become a favored past time, he thought. You whined against him, wrapping your hands around his thick forearms. He gave your pussy a few taps, mewling into his wanting mouth.

He pulled down your panties, your little feet kicking them away so you lay naked beneath him, panting and begging for him. Pleading. He leaned heavy to one side, shimming out of his boxers, tore open and rolled the condom on like he'd practiced. He panted above you, blue eyes taking in your pretty face, fuck you were pretty. And his lady. And next thing he knew he was grabbing at the back of his t-shirt, yanked it off his head.

"You want all of me, ja?"

"Yes baby, every inch."

He groaned at that and like so many videos he's watched in his lifetime, been told tall tales, Soap's escapades, Simons' late nights, Horangi's notch list, Prices' black book, he lined himself up with your leaking entrance.

"Green?" He dare ask.

You answered with a smile and a nod.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the first plunge, he took time to let you adjust to his size. He knew he was thick, didn't want to hurt you at all. God forbid. You whined and looked down at where he was ever so carefully inching inside you, your pussy so warm and tight and he thanked fuck again that he had gotten one off before this. This was incredible, being inside you, becoming one, jointed together.

"Oh baby, yes!" You keened, lifting your legs to rest at his ribs, knees digging into the bones.

"Oh fuck you feel…this is… holy shit ja. Fuck this is good, so so good."

König had to adjust himself several times, listening to your body, watching your expressions, your words. The way you arched into his touch, his hands groping over you thighs, kissing your neck, beginning to thrust, lightly, into you. He still took his time but fucks sake, he'd never felt this good in his life.

"Fuck yes, ho-how do you feel baby?" You asked, rubbing his arms that caged you in, locking fingers together as you moved with him.

"I feel like I could fight god."

"And win-- oh hah fuck, oh whatever you're doing keep doing that!"

Your laugh turned into a cry out, you raised your head again watching him pump himself inside you, stroke after stroke you took his thick cock like a champ. You moved one hand down and started rubbing your clit, matching moan for moan with you, the sounds of your sex pounded in both of your ears. He grunted your name, holding the crown of your skull, hissed through his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut as you came with a shout.

"You're so pretty so fucking pretty, my dear."

"Oh my god you feel so good, I want you. I want you so badly."

"You 'ave me, all of me."

Your hands on his skin, touching his scars, vulnerable but willing. Giving and taking, his throbbing cock was driving you mad. You whimpered, tossing your head from side to side, biting your fingers when he pulled out, smearing your mixed arousal over your cunt. He even tapped it a few times before slipping back in with a low groan.

"Ohhh tiger, fuck this is good. Should've done this sooner."

"You sound so pretty too, Oh fuck-- can you, can you pull my hair a little."

A fucked out grin greeted him in between kisses, grabbing up at his reddish hair.

You licked your lips, his chin, your free hand reaching up and wrapping around his throat was so nice, he actually whined.

"Oh baby, you are fucking me so good. You were made for me, huh? Huh, tiger? Hollowing me out, making room for you inside my pussy? I am so wet I can hear it. Can you hear how good you're making me feel? Oh my god."

"Oh fuck!"

You were right, the squelching, the slap of skin on skin, how desperate you two were for one another was downright perverse. He could feel you pulsing, pulling him in like the tide. You fucked your tongue into his mouth, praising him, calling him good, telling him how you felt, what you needed a little bit more of. Yanking his hair, scraping over his back.

"Again! Oh god König, make me cum again! Fuck yeah."

And he did. He pulled out and spat on his own cock before bullying it right back into you, he knocked your hand away and used the techniques you'd shown him to assault your clit. He was mesmerized by you body, writhing and rolling for him, grabbing his head at one point to stare into his eyes.

Another condom spent, you on top of him, rocking down onto him, holding on to his shoulders. When you threw your head back he latched on to your breast, holding the other, toying with your nipple. You grabbed his hair again, almost forcing him to keep going as you cried out in pleasure.

"Well baby, how do you feel?" You asked after the third round, laying on your side, out of breath, your eyes blown out, body radiating from adrenaline.

"Incredible," König faced you, head lulling over on the divine silk pillow case. He grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles. "I think I am falling in love with you."

You hiccupped a sort of laugh, he felt a little cheesy saying until you patted his face.

"Oh baby, I'm already there."

"You love me?"

"Mhmm."

König was over the fucking moon, moving too quickly he kissed you.

"Ich liebe dich."

"I love you too."

Without discussion he got up and grabbed another condom. "One more round couldn't hurt."

You laughed your way into his arms, rolling his weight on top of you once more.

Tagging: @nepomami @powerfultenderness @weallhaveadestiny