#and so there's nothing stopping him from continuing to do this. continuing to call himself layton's apprentice.

[shinningdance]

Continuation of this, go read every single fic of this lovely lovely writer ( ≧∀≦)

Summery: a young boy tries to steal things from your husband's room, you take him under your wing and get a personal knight in return.

Warnings: none!!!

Words: 1880

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It wasn't unusual for you to walk alone, especially in this household. While your husband is nice, he doesn't necessarily try to spend time with you. You've gotten used to the silence, being alone, the only sound being your heels meeting the floor.

But things are different now.

Trailing behind you is a young boy, no older than 12, he's admiring every single thing he sees and even takes a few things with him.

You caught him stealing from Johns office once, nothing important, just something he could sell for a bit of food. Since you didn't rat him out and instead helped him cover up his 'crime' he decided to stick close.

His walking speed picks up and he's dashing past you, towards a window. He looks out, mouth falling open at the sight. You fight the urge to smile, covering it up by looking away instead.

“It’s so big,” he murmurs, pressing his hands against the glass. His breath fogs up a small section, and he swipes at it with his sleeve. “Do you think they ever get tired of looking at it?”

You follow his gaze, even though you already know what he’s staring at. The city sprawls out before you, golden lights flickering like fireflies against the night. From up here, it all looks peaceful, untouchable. But you both know better.

“They don’t look at it,” you say simply. “Not like you do.”

He glances at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When you have something your whole life, you stop seeing it. It just becomes… normal.”

He turns back to the window, mulling over your words. His fingers drum absently against the windowsill. You know that restless energy well—he’s already thinking about what else he could take, where else he could go.

“Hey,” you say, and he immediately straightens, wary. He still doesn’t trust you completely, not yet. “No stealing anything important.”

He grins, all teeth. “Define important.”

You sigh. “Nothing that will make John notice.”

"He won't notice this!" He calls out, rushing past you while showing something in his pocket. He passes by you and runs down the hallway, making a sharp turn to the left by the end of it. Hearing a small 'thump' makes you pick up your pace.

This was not what you expected to see.

The young boy was on the floor, rubbing his head slightly. While you would have checked on him your gaze was stuck on the person standing there.

Simon.

"Duchess." He mumbles, eyes moving from your face to the small boy starring up at him.

Like anyone would, the kid jumps to his feet, scrambling for cover. His safest option? You. He presses himself against your back, small hands clutching your dress, his head peeking out cautiously from behind you.

"Good evening..." You mumble, hand reaching behind you to pat the kids head.

...

Silence.

No words spoken, no sound besides soft breathing.

"What are you starring at?" The kid asks, glaring at the man in front of you. His words were definitely not a smart choice given the difference of their status but he still chose to say it. His glare could actually kill someone, if it wasn't for his shaky hands holding onto your dress.

"Excuse me?" Simon questions, raising a brow at the courage of this commoner.

"he didn't mean it like that!" You stutter out, pressing your hand over the childs mouth in case he wants to say something again. "Excuse us" You mumble and flash him a small forced smile.

Before Simon could speak again, you already turned around and hurried the kid away.

He just stares. Watching you disappear in the hall.

-----------

Two days later and you still have that memory in your head. You scolded the kid, Leo, for his bold cjoice of words.

His excuse?

He was protecting you.

You. From Simon.

With a sigh you place the book on the table, looking at the flowers in front of you instead. The flower garden is definitely your favorite place, people are rarely there. Leo is crouching by some flower, admiring them or something

You watch as Leo reaches out, running his fingers lightly over the petals. His expression is softer than usual, a rare moment where he isn’t scheming or watching his back. It almost makes you smile. Almost.

“You like flowers?” you ask, leaning back in your chair.

Leo startles slightly, as if he forgot you were there. He hesitates, then shrugs. “They’re nice, I guess.”

“You guess?”

He frowns, shifting his weight. “They don’t talk. They don’t take things from you. They just… stay.”

You don’t respond right away. You know better than to push him when he lets something slip. Instead, you glance at the flower he’s fixated on—a small, stubborn thing, growing slightly apart from the others.

“Seems like this one’s a bit of a troublemaker,” you muse, tilting your head.

Leo snorts. “Guess that’s why I like it.”

For a moment, it’s quiet. The kind of quiet you’ve started to enjoy since Leo’s been around. But then, the moment shatters.

A voice cuts through the stillness.

“There you are.”

John

Leo tenses immediately, his fingers twitching like he’s deciding whether to grab something or run. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart toward you first.

Protecting you. Again.

You inhale slowly, turning to face John, already bracing yourself.

"Good morning." You sigh and stand up, looking at your husband. Normally his eyes would be on you, watching - almost studying - you but not today, his eyes drift to Leo, whos holding the flowers so tight they might break.

"We need to talk..." He sighs and meets your eyes, after a short moment he continuous speaking. "...alone."

Leos eyes widen and he immediately jumps up and rushes over, hands reaching up to hold your hand tightly to his chest.

"No way!" he calls out, shaking his head. "You're not hurting her."

John freezes, looking at the kid with a confused expression. "Hurt her? Why would i hurt her?"

"You all do!" Leo accuses, cheeks turning red as his eyes start to water. "You all hurt her."

John blinks, his expression shifting from confusion to something unreadable. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring at Leo like he's trying to make sense of the accusation.

You can feel Leo trembling beside you, his grip on your hand like a vice. You squeeze back, a silent reassurance, but your own heart is hammering against your ribs.

"Leo," you murmur, but he doesn’t back down.

“They whisper about it, the maids,” he continues, voice shaking. “They think I don’t hear, but I do. They say she’s a ghost in this house. That she doesn’t laugh, doesn’t speak unless spoken to. That she flinches when—”

"Enough." John's voice is sharp now, cutting through the air like a blade. Leo stiffens but doesn't let go of you.

John exhales, rubbing his temple before looking at you. “What the hell has he been hearing?”

You don’t answer. Not right away. Instead, you gently pull Leo closer, shielding him with your body. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed.

With a small sigh you pick up Leo, who immediately hides his face in your neck. "If you don't mind, i think it would be wise to continue this conversation some other time."

Not waiting for an answer you turn around and walk back inside, missing the way Leo stares down John with a tiny smile.

-----------------------------------

Leo needs to protect you, and apparently that also means when you're sleeping. It started of serious, him guarding your door while you read a book in your bead. Then he sat down on a neaby chair, eyes still on the door. And after about 15 minutes, he's in your arms asleep.

That's how you go to sleep and wake up.

The knock from outside and then the door opening made you groan slightly, Leo aswell. After you don't hear a voice or a sound, you force your eyes open.

Johnny and Kyle are in your room, both carrying a tray of what you think is breakfast.

"Good morning..?" You mumble and sit up, pulling the blanket slightly over your chest.

Kyle blinks and forces a small smile while stepping closer, putting the tray of fresh fruits on your bedside table.

Johnny sets his tray down on the other side, a plate of toast, eggs, and something that smells sweet—honey, maybe. His gaze flickers to Leo, still curled up beside you, his face buried against your arm.

Neither of them says anything about it, but the look they exchange speaks volumes.

“You don’t usually sleep in,” Johnny comments, crossing his arms.

You rub your eyes. “Didn’t exactly have much of a choice.”

At that, Leo stirs, letting out a small, disgruntled sound before blinking up at you sleepily. The moment he realizes you’re awake—and that you’re not alone—his drowsiness vanishes. He sits up fast, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his too-big shirt, before glaring at the two men like they were the ones who did something wrong.

“What do you want?” Leo mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

Kyle raises an eyebrow but doesn’t take the bait. “We brought breakfast,” he says instead.

Leo eyes the food suspiciously, like it might be poisoned. You roll your eyes. “It’s just breakfast, Leo.”

He doesn’t look convinced but leans into your side anyway, watching as you pick up a piece of fruit. Only then does he grab a slice of toast from the tray, biting into it cautiously.

Johnny exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “John wants to see you.”

Your stomach twists, but you keep your expression neutral. “Now?”

Kyle shrugs. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Leo tenses beside you. “She’s not going.”

Johnny sighs. “Kid, it’s not up to you.”

“Yeah?” Leo challenges, sitting up straighter. “Well, it’s not up to you either.”

Kyle mutters something under his breath, clearly regretting being part of this conversation. Johnny just pinches the bridge of his nose.

You exhale slowly, placing a hand on Leo’s shoulder before he gets himself in trouble. “It’s fine, Leo.”

He snaps his head toward you, disbelief written all over his face. “No, it’s not.”

And the worst part is—you don’t know how to argue with that.

"Leo," You start and bring your hands to cup his face, his eyes soft as they look at yours. "John is still my husband..If he wants to talk, we talk."

He shakes his head before throwing himself into your arms, cheek pressed against your collarbone. "Then I'm going with!"

"Leo..." You sigh and press a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm sorry but no..but you can help me get ready?"

For a moment there's no answer, then he gets up and speed walks to your vanity. After a short moment he comes back, offering you a beautiful yet simple necklace.

"Thank you." You smile and put it on.

"Mama, you look pretty with that..." Leo mumbles as he takes another bite of his toast.

------------------------

Johnny and Kyle burst into Johns office, not surprised to see Simon already there.

At the same time the men speak, out of breath from running.

"He called her mama."

-------------------------

a/n: we're not gonna talk about the missing post from this weekend. take this silly thing and enjoy!! ヾ(≧▽≦)ヾlike always, not proofread!!!

[tenderwatches]

summary: viktor and jayce feel close to cracking their current problem pressure builds from all sides, including from within

“The Council isn’t going to wait forever, Jayce.” Mel’s voice, diplomatic and calm, even in frustration.

Viktor doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. Walking to Jayce’s lab each morning isn’t exactly easy for him, and his lungs demanded he catch his breath. Now, the moment sounds a little… tense. He doesn’t want to intrude. So, he makes his way slowly, his fingers tracing the cold stone wall as he walks. The interruptions between tiles mark his daily progress like notches on a measuring stick; how far can he go before needing to rest, how many breaths between each step?

Jayce groans something he doesn’t hear, continuing, “Something about these crystals just feels… wrong, Mel. They’re unstable in ways I can’t really explain, and we know nothing about the byproducts of the energy output.”

The mention of the Hex crystals sends a tendril of adrenaline racing through him—the promise of progress, of change, of maybe finally bridging the gap between Piltover and the Undercity. But Jayce is right. Ever since his return to the City of Progress, they've turned Jayce’s runic patterns over, sideways, backwards—but nothing they do makes the crystals react in the ways they should.

“Councillor Salos says Clan Ferros is considering changes to their support of the Council,” Mel intones, her voice low. Viktor’s veins run cold at the clan’s name. He hasn't heard it in a while, but the mention and the subsequently conjured image of their intelligencer brings a nursery rhyme singing out from the fog of childhood memories.

‘Keep your fingers out of pockets, keep your fingers off the green, else a lady with stilettos will come and slice them clean.’

He tightens his grip on his crutch and tries not to think too hard about a blood-thirsty, amoral family “supporting” the council in any way. Audible clacks from deliberate, sharp motions of his cane accompany his next few steps, allowing the conversation to fall to a hush before he enters.

“Good afternoon, Councillor Medarda,” he greets with a polite incline of his head. He expects she will give him a thin-lipped smile, polite but tinged with distaste, like she’s stepped on a viridian beetle. When he catches her gaze, however, he finds it’s… warmer than he anticipates. This is actually slightly alarming.

“Viktor,” she calls as she turns towards him. There is a chary distance between Mel and Jayce, a space where casual comfort should be. Their bodies tell a story, one of paths diverged. Mel’s usual poise carries none of the coy softness she once reserved for Jayce, whilst the man himself curls forward, hands gripping the edge of the workstation he leans against. By the way Jayce stares into the middle distance instead of acknowledging his arrival, Viktor can see he’s still deep in thought.

“I was just leaving,” Mel continues, sweeping across the room, towards him and the door. She stops to put a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, and he almost reflexively shrugs out from under it. He’s far from accustomed to most people’s touch, and much less so, that of Piltover’s ruling classes. “But it’s good to see you back—I’m looking forward to seeing what you and Jayce do next.”

The underlying meaning in her words is obvious, and he’s not sure if she has deliberately made her motives known to him, or if he’s become reacquainted with the ways the people here say things beneath the words they speak. Mel, of course, is one of the greatest examples of this—if he didn’t have his misgivings about her ties to the more violent parties in Noxus, he might even appreciate her shrewdness.

Viktor offers her a smile he hopes is polite, but the way she returns his expression is full of the sharp political intelligence she’s known for—nothing cruel, but knowing. She both acknowledges Viktor’s wariness whilst also offering to him that she’s grown beyond whatever he might remember of her. There’s a slight tilt of her head that suggests she’s not offended by his guardedness—if anything, she respects it. Her eyes, as they meet his, seem to say, “Your caution is warranted—but perhaps not necessary in the way you might think.”

She waves an elegant hand over her shoulder at Jayce, a motion that dispels his absorption. He begins to pace the room with a restless energy Viktor recognises. His former partner has never been an early riser, but over the years, they've both spent countless nights in the lab with Jayce walking circles around their latest conundrum until dawn breaks.

Viktor makes his way over to the workstation. The reports he recovered from his lab floor after their argument, back on his first day in Piltover, are still strewn across the desktop. Both men’s handwriting litters the papers, bold strikethroughs mingling with notes scribbled into the margins. Some of the diagrams have been replicated and reworked on the chalkboard. and a tired sigh escapes Viktor as drops into a chair and ponders one of them now.

“So the Council is getting impatient,” Viktor tests, his voice neutral. He doesn’t mention the Ferros clan.

“It’s hardly a secret.” Jayce runs his hand his hand through his hair, further exacerbating its dishevelled state. Has he always done that? Viktor remembers him being more composed, his appearance perpetually neat, even after long hours spent in the lab. He pulls his bottom lip against his teeth, deliberately averting his gaze from the soft expression of deep thought that Jayce wears. There’s a furrow between his eyebrows that suggests concentration, the slight press of his lips hinting at both his focus and a touch of worry or uncertainty. Viktor has always enjoyed observing Jayce in these moments of quiet intellectual engagement; Jayce is so invested in the outcome of their work. He knows Jayce sees so much more than numbers—he sees the future, the possibility of progress, the greater implications their discoveries hold.

In their time apart, his love for the other man has hardly diminished. Even when he was at his lowest, when he wanted to detest Jayce with every cell in his body, he never could. It’s hard, almost impossible, he thinks, to hate something that you love. Love always wins out. He’s not sure if he’s grateful.

He’s pulled from his rumination by the steaming mug that Jayce wordlessly places next to his hand. When he looks up, Jayce meets his eyes for only milliseconds before they both look away.

This is not the first cup of tea Jayce has made him. A couple of weeks into their reunion, when their interactions still felt prodding a fresh wound to see if it still hurt, Jayce had held out a mug to him for an embarrassingly long time before awkwardly setting it down on the desk, where it stayed for the entire day. Viktor was certain that it had been an accident—Jayce, simply going through the motions of preparing himself a drink, had mindlessly prepared one for Viktor, just like he used to.

This is the first mug that Jayce given him, instead of only offering. Though the familiarity echoes the effortless routines of their past, Jayce flutters about in his periphery, suggesting this presumption is hardly intentional. Jayce has always possessed this rampant desire to be needed, to be useful, to hold secrets of you that no one else could. No matter how good, admired, lauded he is, he seems unable to quiet his own anxieties until he fulfils a singular purpose for every person in his life.

Maybe this is why Viktor pulls the mug closer to him by the handle and takes a sip. Heat floods him, washing his body of tension as the dark sweetness of brown sugar mingles with the rich taste of evaporated milk. How long has Jayce been keeping these very specific fixings? Since the day he knew Viktor had returned? Viktor hopes not—the waste would be incredibly distasteful, especially considering how Jayce had once called his preferences ‘completely insane, illegal, even’.

Though Jayce has certainly noticed that Viktor has accepted his umpteenth peace offering after almost a full month of previously ignoring each one, he, wisely, says nothing. Instead, he pulls a series of molecular renderings closer, pen tapping idly against the page as he considers the elements he’s drawn.

There is no real purpose to his review; at this point, they’re certain about their calculations, rune matrices, and stabilisation frame design. Both are restless, eager to move on to the next step, but the parts ordered from the artificers have yet to come in (on more than one occasion, Sky has had to stop Jayce from storming off to the forge to take things into his own hands). At her urging, they take waiting period to study the composition of the synthetic crystals, which both of them admit is a better use of their time. “About the energy signatures you mentioned to Mel,” Viktor starts after a while, idly rolling the warm mug in his hands, watching the tea swirl in lazy circles along the edges. “They are… paradoxical. The crystals are dense, but the readings are unusually erratic.”

Jayce almost looks relieved. “Yeah, you noticed it too?”

Viktor raises an eyebrow at him before reaching across the desk to trade his mug for one of the rough, synthetic crystals, his other hand simultaneously reaching for a loupe. He brings the crystal up for study, squinting one eye shut to peer through the magnifying lens. “There is something here I recognise, I think.” He’s afraid to dig into what that might mean, especially when Clan Ferros is involved somehow. But they feel close to something, again, some fragment of information that will be the loose thread they need to unravel this whole mystery. “It is… subtle,” he continues, sparing a glance over the edge of the loupe to see Jayce hanging on to his every word. His expression is knitted into that characteristic mixture of scientific rigour and personal concern. “Do you have the reports from our mineral testing?”

Jayce rifles through papers until he finds what Viktor has asked for, and slides it over to him. “I don’t know what you’re expecting to find.” Arcane energy makes composition testing difficult, and, as Jayce alludes, the findings from the report are less than satisfactory. But Viktor isn’t looking for the precise makeup of the crystal—he just needs to see what makes it up.

Uranium.

Sulfur.

Carbon. Hydrogen.

His eyes flick over to the diagrams in front of Jayce, narrowing slightly as his thoughts race ahead of him, towards potential solutions. “These elements,” he starts, indicating each one to forcefully slow himself down, “They’re common, environmental—nothing unexpected when creating new minerals.” He smooths out the relevant report pages on top of the drawings. “And you’ve drawn them here, as alkynes, with the expected triple bonds.” He picks up a pencil and scribbles away a connecting line. Jayce opens his mouth to protest, but Viktor silences him with an impatient hand and proceeds to circle two separate groups. There is again some recognition here, though he can’t place why. “But what if proximity to the arcane disrupts them, leading to the instability we see?”

Jayce’s fingers brush Viktor’s as he takes the pencil to hurriedly sketch out another set of connections, more clearly representing what Viktor has pointed out. “Then we’d have these compounds here—which leaves them free to form a chain over there…”

Viktor is almost too wrapped up on the precipice of discovery again to concern himself with the way the energy leaps between them as Jayce’s thoughts intertwine with his—almost. “And that,” he emphasises, commanding his own focus as well as Jayce’s with an emphatic tap on the newly rendered molecules, “would explain why your last test melted.”

”This is huge,” Jayce murmurs, sitting back in his chair with a dazed quality to his expression. “We would need account for the interference and deal with the output of the fission—”

“But it could work.”

Optimism tempers Viktor’s curtness; viability could completely change the game for the Undercity, but he hardly dares to think of the possibilities. But for the first time since they began working together again, Viktor feels that old spark of discovery—the same energy that spurred the meteoric rise of Hextech years ago. Despite the rift between them, working together like this feels natural. Their ideas harmonise and build upon another, effortlessly leaping from one point to the next without ever having to pause for exposition. Even changing directions is simple for them, like pivoting in a waltz. Slightly dizzy with excitement, he sinks back into his chair. Exhales slowly. Coughs. Ignores the way Jayce’s attention snaps to him, faster than an electric shock.

“We should document these findings properly before we proceed with any modifications.” Clearing his throat, he reaches for his crutch and hauls himself to his feet, stiffening his posture in an effort to quell his body’s trembling. He feels foolish for leaving so soon after initially arriving, but he needs to get out of this enclosed room.

The familiar rhythm of collaboration makes it too easy to forget himself, to slip back into treating Jayce like the past two years haven’t happened. He’s learnt better to than trust show too much vulnerability, as much as some part of him cries to allow himself this reprieve. His mostly full mug of tea still sits where he set it down earlier by the synthetic crystals, unfortunately abandoned.

Jayce, though, seems eager for something to do. He nods, bright with enthusiasm for their breakthrough, and Viktor can see the scientist he talked back from the ledge so many years ago. Jayce flips his journal to the next clean page, snatches a pen from the desktop, and swiftly records the date at the top. “I’ll take down the preliminary notes and then we can work on a fresh draft.” He pauses, pen nib hovering over the paper. His expression suddenly looks troubled, serious. “I know you hate when I, uh,” he waves hand in a complicated gesture, ‘you know,’ and Viktor comprehends the motion is supposed to encompass the complicated experience of being cared for by another whilst grappling with his own sense of autonomy. “But you could, maybe—well. You seem like you want to get some rest.”

In spite of his efforts to keep walls between them, Jayce reads him like a favourite book, even down to his mindfulness in not outright dictating what Viktor ought to do. “You’re… perhaps right,” he agrees with only a small amount of reluctance. The ease with which he’s fallen back into working with Jayce feels like a trap; the last time he’d let Jayce in on matters concerning his health, under the insistence that they were partners, had ended with Jayce proving himself to be like every other Piltie: someone whose grace was fickle, who seized on opportunities.

The truth of this clashes against his memories of his former partner, clashes even still with the image of the man in front of him, looking at him with warm irises gleaming with amity. He’d struggled to reconcile how this was the man who’d betrayed his trust, struggles still now to see it. He can’t begin to fathom Jayce’s motivations and, despite their proximity, can’t bring himself to ask. Some things are better left unknown. “I’ll look at your notes tomorrow,” he finishes, and Jayce beams at him as he makes for the door. Is this the shape of progress in their new, germinal relationship? This juxtaposition of timid hope for the future and fear of the past?

Behind him, he hears Jayce’s hand whispering as it dances over pages. The sound is as familiar as his own heartbeat, or his cane on the tile floors. 𓊈 first chapter | previous chapter | next chapter on AO3 𓊉

AN: Chapter 7, 'Interlude' !! i really loved writing for mel in this so we will see more of her for sure (you can read wayyy ahead on Ao3!! we're posting ch. 21 tomorrow)

[poisonsage808]

to miss is to

nsfw, 18+, mdni below the cut

intent is everything.

he came over to surprise you for the sake of spontaneity, overproduced palpitations of the heart and a strong sense of yearning. that is to say that he missed you.

to his indifferent yet mild disappointment, your roommate opened the door and called your name loudly over her shoulder. once upon a time he would’ve been tempted by her, fallen victim to a pattern that killed many a potential match. munch’s eyes drop momentarily to her ass as she walks away from the open door. well he wasn’t a changed man yet, no one could pull a 180 overnight— or even in a year for that matter. wanting to change is one thing, needing to another, and doing it is something else entirely. he wasn’t going to play the fool just to trick everyone, namely himself, that he was.

you slip around the corner and gasp at his presence, the desired reaction sending a toothy smile to cut across his face. elated with his surprise, you crashed into his arms and sent john stumbling back a bit, he had to hold the flowers high so they wouldn’t get crushed.

“what are you doing here, i thought i wouldn’t get to see you this week!”

“do i need an excuse to see my favorite girl?”

his intention was to spend a few lazy hours with you, give his restless mind a break, listen to you vent about your week and talk about his, snack on the unhealthy hoard you kept hidden in your room, hold you close and kiss you senseless a couple times just because. every night over the phone he told you that he wanted nothing more than lay behind you, press affectionate kisses to your head and try to remember what kind of shampoo you used. so that’s exactly what he did.

if his hand wandered to your waist to keep you still during the movie, if they reveled in the wake of goosebumps and traveled along your warm skin, it was merely to continue innocently touching you. he liked to keep a hand on you at all times if possible, and it rarely wasn’t.

“this movie’s boring,” you whispered over your shoulder at him.

john kissed your neck, “that’s ’cause it’s not a movie, sweetheart, it’s a documentary and it’s far from boring.”

you giggled at his innocent pecks, squirming against him again and threatening his sanity. he pinned your back to his front as if it would help.

“don’t care. i’m revoking your movie choice privileges.”

“do that, and i’ll never let you use my coffee press again.”

you gasp in mockery, “you monster.”

grinning, he huffs against your neck making you shrug and shake your head like he’s a bug that’s irritating you. only the fits of giggles that leave you tell him otherwise.

“stop!” you hiss quietly through a smile, “we’re gonna wake up lyra.”

“one, remind me again why that would bother me? she already doesn’t like me, and i’m not particularly fond of her juvenile, sarcastic self either.” john presses an open mouthed kiss to sensitive skin, taking advantage of the way you arch your back by grinding against you subtly, “two,” another, “i don’t know what this we stuff is, you’re the one being loud, and three—“

you gasp when his teeth sink in and his hand slips between your legs, past your underwear and right into your needy cunt.

“—you need to stop moving.” he warns.

but his fingers persist, eliciting louder sound from your pretty lips that he catches with his spare hand. completely trapped against him, he sits up on his elbow and nudges your knees apart with his to get a better angle, plunging two fingers knuckle deep into you. you grab his wrist tightly and for a moment he thinks you’ll pull it away but you whimper against his palm, trying to muffle the noise.

“i wish i could hear you. i love the noises you make for me.” kissing your hair, your cheek, your forehead, john whines into your ear and places a kiss there too, “feel good, baby?”

you nod enthusiastically.

you’re embarrassingly wet, something that fuels him with pride. he can feel you getting closer, he committed the signs to memory since the very first time he brought you to climax. the flutter of your eyes as they shut, the curve of your back as you arch off his chest and lift your hips to meet his fingers, circling in small circles on your clit. it replayed in his mind long after, it follows him to bed some nights, he longs to see it even after he just did, pupils wide with lust as you get your heartbeat under control. he’s dying to see it now.

“beautiful,” he breathes, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful— god, i missed you— you gonna cum, gorgeous?”

your head dropped on his bicep, nodding again.

it wasn’t enough.

he pulls his hand off your mouth, perfectly timed with a particular stroke that makes you gasp.

“john—!”

your hushed plea is a symphony to his ears. he shushes you gently, teasing your clit to keep you right at the edge. whimpering, you cover your own mouth as you seek the friction you need to push you over.

“keep quiet for me, beautiful. you’re doing so good. wanna feel you.”

he shirks his pants down just enough, barely manages to choke back a moan as he sinks into your cunt. pathetic didn’t scratch the surface on how desperate he was. he liked to tease and taste and take his time with you, not have a frenetic romp on the couch like a teenager.

“see what you do to me?” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist to push you deeper on his cock, “can’t control myself around you.”

you whined at his painfully slow pace, his fingers still gliding around your clit.

“jo— ohmygod— john, please.”

“gonna be quiet?”

“yes, yes, yes.”

a smirk pulled at his lips, his eyes affectionately calling you a liar because he would be a hypocrite if he said so aloud. he was struggling to do the same when your velvety walls closed around his cock as you drew nearer to the edge. he kissed your shoulder, partly a soft apology for torturing you, partly to muffle a moan, and wordlessly gave you what you needed. his middle finger drew a myriad of patterns he knew would push you over the top.

knowing exactly when to cover your mouth again, he stopped a cry of ecstasy from being loud enough to wake your roommate. you arched you back the way he dreamed about and he could practically see you making that gorgeous face you did as you saw stars behind your eyes. the feeling of your cunt spasming and clenching around him nearly sent him over the edge. he drove himself deep but not as fast as he wanted, still conscious of the lewd noises the two of you were already making.

“fuck, i missed this, missed how good you feel,” he grunts low, desperately, too close to begging for something, but he didn’t know what. everything he could ever want was right here. “missed you, baby, need you so bad."

you whine incoherently into his palm, clawing at him someway that returns the sentiment. he pants against your skin, delighted in the little shivers of pleasure that take over your body. you arch into him, inviting him impossibly deeper to hit all the right spots that squeeze him so fucking good his breath catches in his throat. you’re dizzying. he muffles a whine against your shoulder as his hips stutter and fall out of rhythm. shamelessly, he empties himself into you like it's a depraved claim, an attest to his words.

a shaking sigh of relief passes your lips as his heart pounds against your back. somehow, you twist and crane your neck while reaching back to pull his hair and capture his lips. the movement makes him gasp into your mouth, he grabs your waist firmly to keep you still again.

"sweetheart," he scolds, begs, lightly against your lips before conceding and melting into the kiss.

"i missed you too." you said softly.

with no intention to watch the tv, you turn back to it with a dreamy smile and nuzzle back into john. his chin falls on your head and his arms wrap around your stomach, enveloping you affectionately.

"you know she heard us," he teased suddenly.

you swat his arm.

[smile-files]

the beginning of luke doing... this...

he doesn't yet think to call himself layton's apprentice, so he's borrowing emmy's title and role of assistant: i must be helpful to the professor, so i must remain at his side even when the situation puts me in mortal peril! even when i'd be scared out of my wits! it totally isn't because i feel safe in the professor's presence... no! it's out of obligation! (etc. i've been over this before.)

what especially irks me here is that when layton has emmy and luke promise to get out of harm's way should it arise, luke just tells him to be careful! he doesn't even promise! literally every time the concept of promises has arisen, mostly layton promising to keep luke safe or uncover the specter's secret or other such things, luke hasn't believed it... and here he is, ducking away from promising to keep himself safe. what the heck!

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your bestfriend, satoru, sends your cheating boyfriend a rather explicit video of the two of you as revenge.

tags. best friend!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. dōggy style. dirty talk. crēampie. reader gets called ‘pretty, angel, baby’. cheating. consensual fīlming. anon req.

“mmshiit, should’ve fucked you long time ago,” satoru hisses, his hips stuttering against the plump flesh of your ass. he’s unable to stop himself now that he’s got his pretty best friend underneath him—in a sinful position he has only had wet dreams of.

one moment you’re crying because of your cheating boyfriend and the next you’re getting your guts rearranged by your bestfriend who comforted you through it all.

your mascara stains satoru’s pillow, your drool doing the exact same. you’re acting like a total slut for his cock, mewling for him to give you more, to give it to you faster and harder. all of which is caught on tape.

“yeah? want more, baby?” satoru coos as he holds up your phone with one hand. his other one is gripping the side of your hip—keeping your ass perked up so he can continue hitting that right spot inside of your greedy cunt. the white-haired man snickers behind the camera, “c’mon—tell your boyfriend just how much y’ need your best friend’s cock.”

you know satoru’s filming himself hitting it from the back. it’s nasty, but it only serves to excite you. you know your ‘boyfriend’ will be enraged once he receives the erotic video from you. he’s never liked satoru neither, always preventing you two from meeting each other. which was a red flag by itself.

you’ll show that hypocritical bastard.

“need more, ‘toru, please—” you babble, your voice muffled by the pillow. your body jerks with each hard thrust. every move is made with precision, with the intention of pleasuring you until your insides remember the shape of his dick only, “fuckk, ‘tis too big.”

satoru grins smugly. you’re basically admitting that he’s way bigger than that excuse of a man you’re dating. his ego gets a huge boost and it shows when he drives his throbbing cock deeper into your tight cunt.

“awwh, i know, but i bet my sweet girl can take it,” your best friend encourages you through a raspy voice. the fact that he called you his ‘sweet girl’ drives you insane. your pussy squeezes around his cock in response.

satoru’s eyes nearly roll back from the way you’re gripping him. he moves his other hand around your hips until his fingertips find your clitoris. he over stimulates you until you’re crying of pleasure.

you end up clenching around his fat dick even more. it feels like you’re trying to snap his cock in half with how much you’re sucking him in. there’s not a chance of it slipping out of you.

satoru moans loudly without any shame, letting both you and your boyfriend - who’d watch the video later - know how much he enjoys pounding your cunt like it’s actually his; “y’re so fucking tight. you sure your boyfriend’s been fucking you?”

you feel embarrassed by how much you’re enjoying his dirty talk. satoru’s drilling his cock into you so well to the point that you’ve forgotten all about the intimacy you shared with your cheating boyfriend. it was nothing compared to how satoru is treating you right this moment.

the white-haired man continues, still not believing that he’s finally living out his dreams. your body is heaven to him. satoru can’t help but whimper at the feeling your pussy sucking him in so desperately, “feels like your pussy hasn’t had any dick in a good while.”

the way you’re basically screaming into the pillow is enough evidence to confirm that your boyfriend has never fucked you properly at all. that delicious arch of your back, that ass of yours bouncing back on his pelvis in circles. . . satoru just knows it.

you hiccup and try to speak. you know your boyfriend is going to see the video and that only drives you to be more vocal than you already are. you’re going to get revenge and you’re going to make it as painful as possible.

“y-yeah,” you agree with satoru’s words. your words are basically slurred—too cockdrunk to properly talk. you lift your head up for a second to breathe and continue your whiny babbling between moans, “he’s n-never fucked me as well as you—ngh!”

your voice is perfect. everything about you is. satoru isn’t sure if he’ll even last long like this. he wants to claim you as his girl already. he wants to thrust his cum as deep as he can inside of you so you’ll only think of him.

“poor, poor baby,” satoru pouts and rubs your ass gently as he watches it bounce back at him with every thrust. the view is hypnotising. he cannot grasp the fact that your boyfriend fumbled such an amazing girl like you, “it’s okay. i’ll make it up to ya, mhm? i’ll treat you like a real man would.”

you nod and whimper in agreement, which gives satoru the green light. you’re going to be his at the end of this session. he’s going to claim you as his—finally—after all those years.

you feel yourself start to tremble. you feel tingly all over and your moans are getting louder. the curve in satoru’s dick is making your mind go blank. it makes his tip hit the deepest spots inside you, the right spots. you’re desperately searching for that sweet release.

“aht, aht, angel,” satoru clicks his tongue whilst deepening the arch of your back. his fingers trace the shape of your spine, feeling you shiver from the touch as he pounds you silly. “hold it in, yeah? need you to cum for me when i do. wanna fill this cunt to the brim.”

you try to hold on the best you can. after a couple more thrusts, satoru’s breath turns shaky and his noises turn into whimpers—a sign that he’s on the edge, “fuck fuck fuck fuck! baby- ‘m gnna cum!”

you gasp and your body spasms and squirms as you reach your climax at the exact same time. you feel your cunt being flood with spurts of semen. it’s so much—as if satoru’s been storing all of it just for you.

“there there. such a good girl,” satoru sighs and pulls out of you after making sure that you’ve settled down. he takes his dick out as slowly as possible, pointing the camera right at the lewd sight. his entire length is coated with a mixture of your slick and his white cum.

you shiver at the feeling of being left empty. satoru soothes you by pushing his cum back into your pussy with two long fingers. he films the entire process, focusing on your stuffed hole for a few seconds before putting the phone up.

satoru points the back camera at the both of you, getting the entire view of the messy bed. he grins and puts a peace sign up—ending the video with a mocking yet cold smile that’s directed to the man who’s going to be watching this video soon, “should’ve treated her better.”

oh, your boyfriend is going to be fuming. deserved..

[pandoraspurgatory]

Thinking about Canon!Bakugo Katsuki in the bedroom…

I don’t think he’d be a talker during sex, but a lot of grunts and the occasional muffled moan as he buries himself deep inside you. This isn’t because he doesn’t want to talk to you, he just struggles on maintaining his rhythm if trying to form sentences.

Katsuki would use your first name when fucking you. He can’t stand pet names and would more rather implode than call you ‘mamas’. He doesn’t even use first names for his closest friends - so when he calls you by your first name it’s an intimacy thing.

Dominant and rough sex is enjoyable for Katsuki of course. Though his absolute favourite is intimate and somewhat vanilla fucking. Even though he’s working on it, he’s still often angry and aggressive in his daily life. It’s therapeutic for him to take his time with you and enjoy each moment.

Once you get on contraceptives, Katsuki will almost always cum inside you. Since the very first time you let him release in your tight walls he was an addict for that shit. If he’s feeling extra horny he won’t hesitate to cum all over your face and watch it dribble down onto your soft tits.

Katsuki fucking adores getting head. He’s thoroughly convinced nothing is more erotic than watching you dribble and drool all over his cock, only to then face fuck you until he’s shooting ropes down your throat. Especially if your makeup runs down your face, that gets him going.

Katsuki hated the idea at first, though he is slowly incorporating toys into the bedroom. Particularly enjoying holding a high intensity vibrator to your clit until your soaked the sheets through to the mattress. He isn’t yet comfortable enough to aquire toys for himself, though isn’t fully against the idea.

When Katsuki does decide to be rough with you, count sitting down comfortably out for the next few days. He will rotate between doggy and the mating press while continuing his assault on your cervix, spanking your ass each time you cum without his permission. He likes to add small sparks from his palms when he spanks you.

Adding to that, Katsuki is a sucker for edging you. Orgasm denial is his biggest kink due to him being a control freak in and out of the bedroom. He will get you close with his fingers half a dozen times before stopping right before you climax. If you do cum during that time, he’s got a whole lotta punishments waiting for you.

[pathologicalreid]

a love song for lady earth | s.r.

in which reader has her first experience with munch!spencer

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: oral (fem receiving), munch!spencer, a little bit of overstim, d/s dynamics if you spin in circles and then squint, pwp, cumming untouched, fingering, dirty talk, a little praise word count: 2.16k a/n: this one goes out to everyone who's ever gotten shitty head from shitty guys. also to people who like their men a little pathetic.

“What are you doing?” Your voice comes out higher than you anticipated. The slight panic in your tone sets your boyfriend on high alert, his eyebrows rising in curiosity as he hovers over you.

Spencer pulls himself up until you meet his eyes, concern and lust fusing together to create nothing short of confusion. He studies your expression, investigating your interruption with the kind of delicacy that he always has when approaching intimacy, “Baby,” he starts, “Have you ever received oral sex before?”

Your lips part in surprise, wondering why that’s the conclusion he comes to, “I have,” you respond hesitantly. “I just—” you falter, “You don’t have to.”

His confusion deepens, “I don’t have to what?”

“You don’t have to give me head,” you answer timidly, “Because it’s not— you just don’t have to.”

Languidly, Spencer drags his fingertips up and down your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “It’s not what? Now you have to tell me.”

You groan in frustration, looking up at the ceiling fan while you search for words that won’t set your cheeks ablaze, “I don’t like it, and I know guys don’t like it. So, you just… we can skip that part.”

“Just out of curiosity, what about it don’t you like?” Spencer asks, sitting up fully between your legs, one hand resting on your knee, keeping your legs parted.

Looking down at him, you chew on the inside of your lip, knowing you have his undivided attention when you speak up, “I just don’t get any pleasure out of a guy trying to French with my vagina while I fake moan.”

“Ah,” Spencer breathes, “So, you’ve never received good oral sex before,” he amends his previous question.

Propping yourself up on your hands, you raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “I’m not entirely convinced there is such a thing, and will you please stop calling it oral sex? It sounds so clinical.”

He crawls over to you, putting his face right in front of yours, “Do you trust me?”

You frown, “Of course I do, what does that have to do with any of this?”

“Would you be willing to let me go down on you?” The earnestness in his tone catches you by surprise. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wants to eat you out.

Humming affectionately, you tilt your head at him, “Do you really want to? I always thought guys hated doing it.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows, “Then I guess that demographic doesn’t apply to me.”

“Oh,” you breathe, “You can… We can try,” you offer. Nerves twist in your lower belly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, your eyes fall shut as he leans his head forward, pressing his lips to yours while his hand starts to pull at the waistband of your panties.

Your boyfriend’s lips are almost unfairly soft against your own as his hands continue to undress you, pushing your t-shirt up around your waist and pulling down your underwear to the middle of your thighs. Pressing his forehead against yours, Spencer pulls away ever so slightly, “You can always tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

Nodding, you can’t help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every partner you’ve had in the past, or maybe Spencer just has a special talent with his mouth—he certainly was good at running it. “Yes,” you say, kissing him again before he moves his head down.

“Thank you,” he mutters, bringing his head back down to where it was before you’d stopped him. Spencer lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room to be found later before dropping his head between your knees, littering small, slow kisses along the insides of your thighs. “Pretty girl,” he hums, inspecting your glistening sex with peaked interest.

Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Spencer as he set on top of your mound, pulling the skin taut before blowing cool air on you. You jump in response, looking down at where he’s smirking from between your legs. Admittedly, you’d never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you, he just looks so pretty.

He hums absentmindedly, “Just making sure you’re paying attention,” he teases.

There could be an air raid siren going off and you’d still be too focused on him to take cover. His movements are calculated as he exposes your clit to the air, leaning his head down and pressing his tongue flat against your folds, licking a stripe before readjusting himself on the bed.

A constellation of feather-light kisses is left everywhere, your inner thighs, up toward your hip bone—everywhere except where you really need him. Your clit aches with need as he continues to tease you, the pad of his thumb skimming ever so slightly over the sensitive bud, relieving only a fraction of the pressure that’s building up. “Spence,” you breathe.

“Are you enjoying this?” He asks, lifting his head up and looking at you curiously.

You nod once, “Are you?” You challenge.

His head drops again, and your breath hitches when he answers, “Immensely.”

Spencer continues but doesn’t move on, studying your anatomy so intently that it only serves to turn you on even more. His hand ghosts over your folds, running a finger over your slit and chuckling when your hips buck up in response to the stimulation.

He could’ve gotten you to beg, had that been his goal, you would’ve babbled please so incessantly that the word no longer held any meaning, but that wasn’t what Spencer wanted. He wanted you to enjoy receiving pleasure in a way that no man had ever wanted before.

“You’re just so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, watching you intently.

Before you had a chance to reply, his mouth was on you again, his tongue deftly slipping between your folds and poking at your entrance. Other than working you up, you didn’t feel any different than you had previously. You give a gentle hum of encouragement—at least he tried, and at least you’d be wet enough for sex.

Spencer curls his tongue, dragging your slick up to your clit, and that’s where he finally got you. His tongue pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves as you squirm beneath him, your body moving faster than your brain as your hips move away from his mouth, “Shh,” Spencer coos, “It’s okay, baby. I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

Taking a deep shuddering breath, you nod. You open your mouth to form a reply, but the only thing that comes out is a breathy sigh.

Carefully, Spencer moves your legs, placing your thighs on top of his shoulders, giving you one more glance before diving back in, kitten-licking your clit while you try to catch your breath.

“Spence,” you cry, feeling an orgasm that you previously hadn’t thought was possible building in your lower belly. A swarm of nerves and aches of pleasure thrumming through your body like electricity.

He readjusts, lifting his head more so that his lips can wrap around the sensitive nub, his mouth gently suckling on it.

At a loss for what to do with your hand, they find their way down to his head, weaving your fingers through his hair as his ministrations drive you closer and closer to an orgasm. Tugging at the soft curls earns a groan from him, the vibrations on your clit causing you to cry out, “Oh my god.”

He drops one of your legs, moving his hand up to grab one of yours before you cum, squeezing his hand as he gently nips at your clit, further encouraging your orgasm.

“I’m— ah, please,” you babble nervously, inhaling sharply as your orgasm washes over you, cunt clenching around nothing as Spencer’s mouth continues working at you, licking softly as your back arches off of the bed, sweat causing the sheets to stick to your skin.

Your thighs are trembling by the time Spencer comes back up, his mouth shining with your arousal as he breathes as heavily as you. His hand cups your sensitive sex when he leans forward, leaning in to kiss your lips.

The taste of yourself on his lips doesn’t even cross your mind as you cup the back of his head and pull his mouth to yours. The tang of your own cunt on your tongue draws a moan from the back of your throat, and you jump when one of Spencer’s fingers gently teases your interest, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your head spin.

“Can I go back?” Spencer asks, looking down at his hand briefly before returning to your eyes for permission.

Your mouth gapes, “You want more?”

He groans in response, “Angel, I’d spend all day between your thighs if you’d let me.”

Your stomach flips, mourning the fact that you had plans in the afternoon, “I might just take you up on that someday.”

Lifting your body from the pillows, Spencer tugs your t-shirt the rest of the way off your body, leaving you fully nude in front of him, “Fuck,” he groans, gently guiding your back to the mattress as he attaches his lips to your neck, leaving your fingers clawing at his back.

His head moves lower, nipping and sucking at your collarbones, leaving light marks as he makes his way down to your chest. His lips scatter kisses all along your breasts as he moves down, down, down. Right until he’s right where you want him, and right where he wants to be. “Oh,” you whimper, taking in a shaky breath while he tentatively presses his index finger into your wet hole.

“Poor baby,” Spencer coos at your sensitivity, “You’re doing so well, letting me fuck you with my mouth. All you needed was someone to suck your clit.”

You sigh dazedly in response, every thought in your mind evacuating as his mouth drops to your pussy again, languidly lapping at your cunt while his finger eases into you, “You’re so good at this.”

He hums against you in response, the vibrations causing your body to shudder and your hands to return to their home in his hair. The feeling of his mouth gently sucking on that little bundle of nerves and his finger starting to thrust makes your walls clench.

A strangled moan escapes your mouth when he adds a second finger, his second and third fingers driving into you with a steady rhythm as his tongue flicks your clit in calculated movements. The recognition of your impending orgasm hits you, “’m close,” you breathe, gasping as his movements don’t relent, tears prick at your eyes as you chase that high.

Spencer pushes your legs further apart with his spare hand, keeping your thighs from closing around his head as he moans against your cunt. You pull on his hair, eliciting another groan from him that sends you hurtling into your second orgasm, crying out his name like a prayer as he tapers off his ministrations.

His hand slows first, gently working you through your orgasm as his tongue laps at your clit, gentle movements soothing the hypersensitive spot as you catch your breath, tears trickling down your cheeks as you smooth out the hair on his head. He pulls away from you, releasing your trembling thighs and letting them fall around him as he tiredly rests his head on your abdomen. “Spence,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, causing him to rest his chin on you, meeting your eyes as he wipes your slick from his mouth.

He hums a response, “My love,” he murmurs, eyes closing as he enjoys the feeling of you playing with his hair.

You chew on the inside of your lip nervously, “Do… do you need me?” Your question was tentative, unsure if he wants you to reciprocate.

“Uh,” he says, equally as unsure, “That’s not necessary.”

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s not like I feel inclined to, but I’d like to… to return the favor.”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, I mean I’m taken care of. I already…” his voice trails off, leaving you to fill in the blanks.

“Oh,” you breathe, “Oh.” Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, hiding your smile, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Desperately. You were trying desperately not to laugh at the prospect of your boyfriend cumming in his briefs.

He rolls his eyes in response, clearly unbothered. He seems almost proud, and you suppose it’s not often that a man finishes from giving head. “So,” he starts, moving his hand and using his fingertips to draw stars across your bare skin, “Did you enjoy it?”

You huff in response, the answer is obvious, but he just wants the victory of knowing he’s changed your mind. Who are you to refuse him of that? “Immensely,” you answer.

[nana-au]

𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍! 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐱 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 | making a mess of your panties MDNI

warnings: panty fucking? idk what to call this

(this is a drabble inspired a request i got... if it was you dw i am making a full fic)

yuji and you both decided at the start of your relationship to take things slow. sex was a serious commitment - with the possibility of becoming pregnant and not to mention both of you were utterly clueless... you both thought it was for the best to wait things out and take things slow.

and while at first you both waited... and waited... and waited; choosing to only kiss and maybe grind against each other (with your clothes on, of course) every once in a while... it wasn't long until you both started to lose the plot a little.

that was why what was supposed to be a simple makeout session ended up with yuji's wet dick tucked away into the gusset of your panties - his length rubbing against your folds. your pleasure - all sticky and wet clung to your panties and his cock - all thanks to the tantalizing feeling of his twitching dick poking your clit with every stutter of his hips.

you cried underneath him - wriggling while his tip kissed against your sensitive bundle of nerves and yuji - even with his years of playing sports was struggling to hold himself above you on his bed - his arms shaky while lost in the pleasure of his cock sandwiched between your panties and your labia.

his head spun while you mewled under him. it was naughty what you were both doing. yuji - condomless - dripping precum all down your folds while your entranced clenched and unclenched - pushing out more of your pleasure and coating his cock completely. your cunt basically begging for him to enter you - all warm and wet and ready for him to effortlessly slide in.

he kissed you tenderly, capturing your lips and putting a pause to your whines while he tried desperately not to cum just from the feeling of your warmth. he wanted so badly to beg and plead with you just to stick the tip in - wanting nothing more than to just feel the head of his cock push past the initial ring of your plush cunt - promising you it would go no further. but he knew he couldn't promise that. he completely broke your original agreement of over-the-clothes touching. he tried his luck first by getting you to agree to grinding in your underwear; something you were wary about but so cloudy with lust you couldn't help but nod and let him pull your sweatpants down. then he got you to agree to him taking his cock out - swearing to you he just wanted to feel over your panties.

he really thought he could stop there but the moment your panties started to darken from your pleasure he all but shook when begging to just slide between your folds. you had agreed - apprehensive but so turned on he probably could've gotten you to agree to anything.

so while his dick slid back and forth in between your lips and his tongue tangled with yours you could only lay there and let him make the both of you feel good.

yuji continued to leak precum - the cool fluid mixing with yours and causing his cock to slip around in your panties - dragging across your skin and missing where he intended to rut against. he broke your kiss, eyebrows furrowing in frustration and sitting up. with his cock still tucked away in your panties and with yuji now on his knees between your legs, he held the fabric down with his hands - trapping his dick back between the puddle he made of your folds. he begun grinding again and was unable to fight back a groan. with your panties and labia tight against his cock he stood no chance - roughly slipping back and forth and stimulating himself to his peak.

he came .... a lot. your panties were already soaked with the evidence of your need and now they were stained with his sperm - along with your dripping folds.

"y-yuji! you came," you cry out anxiously, sitting up to desperately get your underwear off of you - worried that some could possibly slip into your center and god forbid impregnate you.

yuji was all apologies for hours afterwards, even after helping you get his thick cum that slipped between your folds out. he used his index and middle finger to desperately scoop his sperm out of the path to your entrance - causing your hips to buck violently with each desperate flick of his fingers. he was panicked hearing you cry out and not thinking straight, he just went right in with his hands trying to remove traces of his ejaculation from you while accidentally stimulating your clit in the process. "yujiiiiiii!! a towel!!" you cried out again and he sprung to action - rushing to your dorm bathroom and grabbing your giant bath towel.

once you both got over the initial panic of the situation you couldn't stop laughing at your boyfriend and his silly solutions - and he spent the rest of the night blushing wildly - not from his embarrassingly stupid actions - but from the image of your legs wide open and your bare cunt clenching underneath him - his thick cum dripping down into your center where he secretly wanted it most; now stuck in the perverted depths of his mind for the rest of his life.

[cutiefulism]

caleb >.< lads

imagining him keeping a lil photo of u in his wallet and on his person at all times.

it's one you would call ugly, too. your mouth is open in a wide smile, eyes crinkled and cheeks flushed with mirth. the sun, as if it was your personal ring light, catches in your eyes, making them glisten even through the wrinkled, worn paper.

caleb hasn't stopped staring at it since he got it.

it captures your essence perfectly (as perfect as a replica can, anyway. it shrivels in comparison to the real thing.), and every morning before he's called in for duty, he presses his lips to it, hoping that, one day, he'll get to find out how you really taste.

but some days, that's not enough. when his subordinates have irked his nerves or when shit has hit the fan during an expedition, that morning kiss to you doesn't calm the frustration, the anger brewing in his gut.

and caleb is just a man.

"mmph, fuck—"

his thumb glides over the little slit of his tip, catching a bead of pre and smearing it down his shaft. his fist continues to pump, that gorgeous, aged photo of you somehow still delicately held in his opposite hand.

you'd be ashamed. disgusted, even.

what you don't know can't hurt you, however, and he has no intentions of letting you know what he does with this picture. not unless you ask.

then he'll have to answer, because who is he to deny his pretty girl?

your lips are so pretty when you smile, but they'd be even prettier wrapped around his cock, tongue swirling and cheeks hollowing as you struggle to take all of him. he'll help you, of course — whisper praises, sink his fingers into your hair and guide your head further, down to the hilt.

then you'd gag, big, sad tears welling up on your waterline, and he'd brush them away with his thumb.

he'd say, "'s okay, princess. you like it, right? 'm not gonna let you get hurt."

a bit of drool escapes the corner of his open mouth as his heavy balls tighten at the imaginary sound of you gagging on his dick.

caleb spits the rest of the saliva that's flooded his mouth onto his cock. it's foolish and likely biologically impossible, but he's sure yours would lubricate better.

your pussy would lubricate better, too, and that thought has caleb squeezing the head and groaning like he's in heat.

he knows these are not the kinds of thoughts a childhood best friend should have, but caleb has never thought normally. he's yearned for you, craved you, even when you forgot him.

this is nothing new to him. hell, he's fantasized with you in the next room over before.

you and those flimsy pajamas, big shirts with tiny shorts that do nothing, absolutely nothing to hide the delicious curve of your ass.

if he chopped off all the fingers and toes of his fleet members and counted them, that still wouldn't be accurate to how many times he's wanted to grope or smack, how many times he's wanted to kiss and bite.

"hah, ngh, c'mon baby..."

caleb slowly drags his hand down all seven inches before he speeds up his pumping again, faster than before, and his metal fingers just barely crinkle the photo.

you'd be so tight. your mouth, your pussy, your ass. all of it. he'd have it all, and you'd take it because you're a good girl, his good girl, and oh, fuck—

his hand is a blur as his balls draw up and his teeth sink into his lips. a long, whiny moan of your name leaves his lips, both a prayer and a curse as ropes of white stain his abs and sheets.

his cock continues to twitch, and he's but a slave to his orgasm as his head lolls back, eyes sliding shut as he strokes himself through it, milking more out of him like he knows you would do.

you're a tease, after all.

it takes him a hot minute to come down, dick jolting faintly before going limp, and caleb swallows down gasps of air.

every orgasm hits harder the longer he's away from you.

he opens one eye, his free, sticky hand fumbling for a handful of tissues. he wipes himself down, throws the soiled tissues into his garbage, and covers it with paper.

his subordinates are nosy little shits.

caleb tucks his dick back into his briefs, and he sighs, eyes wandering back to the photo of you.

his pretty baby.

he brings the yellowed paper to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your face.

"i'll make it back home to you. i swear it."

first fic heh... kinda nervous ^_^;

[suguae]

Haunted

Toji cannot move on, until he realized too late.

Warnings: Angst, slightest fluff (reader and baby 'gumi moment)

You were just a girl, standing in front of a man, asking him to love you.

How hard was that for him? Yes, he wasn’t good with his words but he wasn’t good at anything else either. He was just there.

Maybe because the woman he truly loved—he was still mourning over her. His sad eyes every time he watched an old couple dance together, wishing he had been doing that but with her. The cute babies babble with their mothers as Megumi babbles with his father, how he wished his wife was still here instead of you. He never said it, but that’s what it felt like. 

And perhaps that's what it was. 

Sometimes he curses himself out when he accidentally calls you his wife's name. During intimate times only. You tried—trying to keep the emotions in as if it wasn’t breaking every part of you, was the hardest part. “Look he’s walking...” You smiled at the dark haired baby who was walking towards you. Toji smiled, making sure he’d record every second of it; deep down he wished his wife was the one the baby was walking towards instead of you.

And it was wrong—so wrong. 

“This relationship, I’m with you but Toji—Toji this is the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” You whispered while he ate his leftovers, his brows still furrowed from the argument occurring earlier. Having Toji work from 9–5 wasn’t the best but good thing he had you, helping him out with so much. Picking up groceries, picking up his lovely son—until you mentioned that one of his teachers mistaken you as his biological mother. That right there was enough to make Toji angry for weeks at least.

But not this time.

He stopped chewing on his food after you spoke, waiting for more of an explanation. Which you figured he needed, “I don’t think you’re in love with me–” 

“I like you [name], a lot.” He cleared his throat. He leaned back on his chair as his arms crossed waiting for you to continue the sentence he interrupted. 

Right, he liked you a lot. These three rough years you’ve been dating Toji—that particular l word was never uttered once, not even if he was drunk, or having a special moment with you. You huffed trying to find the right words for Toji to understand. That was until little Megumi started crying from his room. “I’ll try to put him back to sleep, finish eating.” He watched as your fragile little body sulked its way to Megumi’s room.

He knew this was gonna happen, he knew you were bound to leave him sooner or later. 

You smiled as you opened the door to see the little Megumi standing on top of his little bed. His hands wiping his tears as he ran towards you, his arms now wrapping around your legs. “Sleep with mama and papa.” He cried out as you leaned down to pick up the little boy. “[name] and papa, not mama okay?” You corrected him, if Toji were to find out that he had been calling you that, then that argument would’ve climaxed.

The little boy nodded, his tears now gone as you swayed him around. “Sleep with you.” He mumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder as he played with a strand of your hair. “Just for tonight.” You whispered, watching Megumi pick up his head and smile. Content with your answer. 

Toji’s heart could just swell at the sight. You treated his son as if he was your own and nothing looked so much better right now, except for the fact that he wished it was his wife.

Megumi was now soundly sleeping between you and Toji, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His eyes shut tightly hearing those piercing words leave your mouth. It hurt when his wife left him, but this hurt was different—different because he knew it was coming yet he didn’t want to do anything about it. 

“I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to be the one apologizing.” He watched your soft gaze stare at completely nothing. He was confused, this was his fault. He never treated you how you needed deserved to be treated. “It was my fault for throwing myself at a man who simply was not ready.”

The next morning was silent—baby ‘gumi was confused at the saddened look on your face. Constantly walking up to you asking if you were okay. He was still just a baby, yet he read the room so well. “I’m sure we can work this out—” Toji now sitting next to you on the couch, some cartoon playing in the back as Megumi’s little head sat on your lap. “You’re not ready, Toji.” You nodded, eyes still glued on the tv as if it was meant for you and not the little Megumi. 

“And how are you so sure—”

“Tell me you love me then.” Your eyes are now fixed on Toji’s. It was hard, he felt as if his mouth had been glued shut. You sigh, bringing your gaze back to the tv, “I love you—but it’s hard when it’s one sided Toji.” 

It hurt much more, seeing you drive away as the clueless Megumi waved you out. Poor thing thinks you’re simply going to the store. The house that once felt like home was so dull now. Toji sat little ‘gumi down on the couch. 

His constant, “mama?” or “[name]?” while he kept his gaze on the door every so often. Nothing prepared Toji for this. Megumi cried that he wanted to sleep with his mama and papa, his heart swelled knowing that he had been talking about you.

You were gone, just like his wife. But it hurt—it hurt so much more knowing that you’re alive trying your best to…move on. He stayed up late that same night, stumbling upon a video from two years ago. When Megumi first learned how to walk. You and Toji had just started dating but the look of happiness plastered your face as you watched the little baby walking. 

That was one thing Toji never forgot about, how much you loved kids. Telling him how once you had kids of your own you would finally be able to live in peace. How he heard of it less and less as the years went on, he wonders if you still think that.

next part ->

[osaemu]

JJK MEN: BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK?

✩ ‧ ˚. [ GOJO, TOJI, GETO ] your boyfriend's gone for work, and you gotta convince him to come back home over the phone... NSFW

contents: fem!reader. phone sex, voice kink, video taking, dick pics, blah blah blah. you can probably guess the rest. not proofread + mostly written while i was half-asleep. 2.3k words.

★ ━ SATORU GOJO

“baby, i miss you,” satoru mumbles, voice soft and sleepy from the other end of the phone. you hear the sound of sheets rustling against his phone’s microphone as he rolls over, groaning softly. “i can’t wait to come home to you.”

you plop down on your bed and turn your phone on speaker as you rest your back against the headboard, stifling a yawn before you reply. “me too… it’s so lonely without you here.”

“i know,” satoru says, and even though it’s not a video call, you’re absolutely certain he’s grinning like the cocky idiot he is. “tell me ‘bout your day, sweetheart. wanna know what you’ve been doing without me.”

you roll your eyes and smile, checking your nails as you reply. “nothing much, it’s kinda boring without you here.”

“tell me more,” satoru murmurs, and he thinks that he’s so lucky you two aren’t on a facetime call, because his hand is slipping down to the waistband of his pants and he’s tugging them off, releasing his already-hardened dick. “i wanna know everything.”

you don’t think much of the way satoru’s breathing has gotten noticeably choppier as you ramble about the little things that’ve happened in your day so far—after all, how could you know that he’s stroking himself to the sound of your voice?

“so, yeah, that’s basically everything,” you finish, exhaling softly. the moment you stop talking, you hear the soft groans that satoru’s been fighting to hide the whole time, and suddenly, it clicks. “wait, satoru, have you been fucking yourself the whole ti—”

“maybe,” your boyfriend replies instantly, pausing and taking a long, unsteady breath before he continues, “wanna join me?” you don’t reply immediately, but soon, his voice turns pleading. “c’mon, baby, missin’ you so much… lemme hear you, sweet girl. help your boyfriend out, pleeea—” 

“okay, okay,” you give in, reaching down and tugging off your shorts. a second later, your panties are discarded as well, and your fingers start to circle your clit at the sound of satoru’s voice.

“mm, you touching yourself, baby?” satoru breathes, hand still wrapped around his dick. you hum in agreement, and the hand holding your phone grows tighter the faster your circles get. satoru clicks his tongue after a couple seconds, and adds, “don’t hold back, i wanna hear you.”

“okay,” you mumble, missing his familiar touch now more than ever. “i miss you so much, ‘toru,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky from your own fingers. but it still isn’t enough to push you over the edge—you both know that only satoru has the skill to do that.

“i know you do,” satoru teases, an amused lilt in his voice. “bet those pretty hands of yours couldn’t make ya cum half as fast as i could, yeah?”

he’s right, but it doesn’t stop you from trying—god, you wish your boyfriend were here and inside of you, but for now, his voice is all that you have. “baby, these past couple days, all i could—fuck, all i could think about was that pretty pussy of yours,” satoru chokes out, hand moving up and down the length of his dick faster. “so tight f’me, all just for me,” he mumbles, throwing his head back and gritting his teeth.

“s-satoru, i need you,” you mewl out, legs starting to tremble just at the thought of him. “need your dick inside of me, plea—”

“can’t do that, princess,” satoru sighs, groaning at the sound of your desperate request. “wish i could, though.. but we gotta wait for a couple days, fuck.”

you stop rubbing your clit and instead slip two fingers inside your cunt, wrist shaking at you pump your fingers up and down at his request. “s’ not as good as you, ‘toru,” you whine, hips unconsciously rocking against your hand. “come home soon, please, can’t wait for that long—”

satoru laughs breathily and moans shamelessly into his phone, mumbling something about work or a mission or something—but you don’t really catch the details, too occupied with fucking yourself to the thought of your boyfriend. “so impatient, aren’t ya?” satoru exhales, thrusting into his own fist and fantasizing about your warm, tight cunt instead. “fuck, baby, miss you and your cunt so fuckin’ bad—”

“then come home, ‘toru,” you plead, hardly able to choke out your words coherently. “please, satoru, i need you here—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a series of porn-worthy groans, mixing in your name wherever he can as he cums into his hand. it’s not satisfying, and it doesn’t feel half as good as it would if he were fucking your pussy instead. so, after a couple seconds, he mumbles, “whatever you say, princess, i’ll be there by tomorrow.” 

★ ━ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“you’re an asshole,” you mutter into your phone. toji only scoffs in reply, a disbelieving edge to his voice. “toji, listen to me—”

“i’m listenin’, princess,” toji grumbles. “yeah, i know i said i’d be home by tonight, but somethin’ came up. s’ not my fault i’m surrounded by idiots.” and he makes no effort of hiding his disdain at your stubbornness—some things were just out of his control, including how long it took for most of his missions to get completed.

“don’t call me that,” you snap, climbing into your bed and pulling a pillow onto your lap. toji sighs, and it’s a long, lengthy exhale that surely has to be exaggerated. “fuck you, toji, you promised you’d be home by tonight.” 

your boyfriend laughs incredulously into his phone, chortling for a good twenty seconds before he replies, “i don’t remember promising anything, n’ what do ya need me home for anyways? what’s so fuckin’ important, huh?”

well, there’s no way you’re telling him the real reason you want him home so badly—he’d just laugh at you and your desperation for him. but honestly, after going for more than a week without his dick, you’re really fucking close to telling him that. instead, you reply, “maybe i just miss my boyfriend.”

“more like you just want dick, don’t ya, pretty?”

toji sees right through your pitiful lies—he always does. you don’t respond for a long while, and your boyfriend fills up the silence by laughing again. “shoulda just said so. i missed fuckin’ that tight cunt of yours too, idiot.”

“so will you come home now?”

“mm, you gotta convince me.”

“how?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. 

“show me jus’ how much you miss me, and maybe i’ll consider comin’ back early if you can prove it to me,” toji says, and you can hear the smile in his voice as your screen lights up with a request to facetime. 

you accept, and a second later, your boyfriend’s face fills up your screen. his dark eyes are squinted from the sudden light, but the corners of his lips curl upwards when he sees you. “hey, princess.”

“hey, asshole.”

“you want to get fucked tomorrow night or not?” he drawls, a lazy smile playing on his face when that shuts you up. “now c’mon, let’s see that pussy. open wide f’me.”

you mutter something about him being the worst boyfriend ever before you tug down the waistband of your panties, exposing your neglected, puffy cunt. your clothes are quickly discarded somewhere, allowing you to angle your phone downwards and show toji what he’s missing.

“oh, fuckin’ hell,” toji mutters, navy eyes fixed on your cunt as you slip two fingers inside and start pumping them in and out of your hole. the dim lighting of your room bounces off the slick already coating your cunt, making it look wetter than ever to toji—and you can practically see the longing in his eyes as he watches you fuck yourself.

“please, toji,” you mumble, spreading your legs even wider to show off your pussy to him. “miss you so much, please—fuck, please come home,” you plead, doing your best to put on a show for him. at this point, you’re so touch starved that you’d do anything to get him back—anything to satisfy you, since your own fingers can’t even give you half the pleasure toji can.

“so desperate, aren’t ya?” toji tuts, eying you with interest. “tch, pathetic…”

you whine in response to his words, hips rolling against your own hand as you futilely try to convince your head that it’s a dick in between your legs and not your own fingers. “fuck, toji, i’ll do anythin—”

“anything?” he instantly cuts you off, cocking an eyebrow as if he’s intrigued. you nod desperately, almost willing to do anything and everything for him if it meant he could fill up the empty spot in between your thighs. “you promise?”

“y-yeah, anything,” you whimper, throwing your head back as your hand starts to grow sore. 

toji hums in approval, and a moment later, he replies, “alright then. i’ll head back tomorrow mornin’, but you’re getting fucked for the whole night after. n’ i don’t wanna hear any of that ‘toji, it’s too much!’ bullshit, m’kay?” he snaps, mimicking your voice by raising his pitch two octaves. 

“okay, i promise,” you choke out, and the second the words leave your lips, toji hangs up.

asshole.

★ ━ SUGURU GETO

“suguru, i miss you,” you mumble into your phone, burying your face into the blankets wrapped around your shoulders. usually, it’s rare for you to feel cold within your bedroom—suguru’s presence seems to make everything warmer. but right now, he’s not here, and even your own room feels barren without his comforting aura. “it’s so empty here without you…” 

“is it, now?” suguru replies coyly from the other end of the call. he’s at some sort of meeting right now, but apparently, he’s on his break—which is good, because you imagine that it might be a little embarrassing for him to take this call if he were in the middle of the meeting. “i miss you too, baby. you and that pretty pussy of yours, heh.”

“sugu—”

your boyfriend interrupts you with a soft, teasing laugh, lowering his voice when he adds, “do you want to know what i’d do to you if i was with you right now?”

you swallow back the “yes” you so desperately want to say, instead whispering, “aren’t you in public?”

“nah, i’m in the bathroom right now,” suguru clarifies. “now c’mon, answer the question.”

“...yeah,” you admit. it’s been over a week since you last had any sort of sexual contact with suguru—you’ll take what you can get.

your boyfriend laughs again, sultry voice pouring out your phone’s speakers and straight into your throbbing cunt when he starts describing—in great detail—the things he would do to you if he was on top of you right now.

“...and then, i would flip you over and fuck you face-down ass-up for hours,” suguru adds casually, enjoying the sounds of your muffled moans—you’re trying so hard to hide them, but little do you know that it’s only too obvious to suguru. 

two of your fingers are circling your clit as suguru speaks, and your own hand is clasped over your mouth as you struggle to hide the effects of suguru’s voice on you—and he just keeps talking.

“yeah, and when i finally let you cum all over my dick, i’d just keep going,” suguru cooes, tempted to pull down his pants and take care of his own boner right then and there. but unlike you, your boyfriend has some ounce of resilience, and as he checks the time on his phone, he realizes that he has to get back to his meeting soon anyways.

“suguru—” you moan, unable to stifle your little whimpers any longer. “wan’ you so bad, please—”

“silly girl, what do you mean, you want me so bad?” suguru says amusedly. “i’m already yours, aren’t i?”

“you know what i mean,” you huff, rocking your hips against your fingers in an attempt to force yourself to cum. but unfortunately, ever since you started fucking with suguru, your own fingers aren’t good enough—even if you could hypothetically make yourself orgasm, it wouldn’t give you even a fraction of the pleasure your boyfriend could. “please, sugu, i wanna see you.”

and just like that, any remaining self-restraint suguru has snaps—the sound of you begging is enough to make him do anything in the world.

suguru hastily unzips his pants, releasing his dripping dick. he runs his thumb over the leaking tip, smearing the pre-cum all over its head. “fuck, baby, i’m at work right now,” he mutters into his phone, rolling his eyes affectionately when he hears you giggle. “one pic. then i’m going back to my meeting.”

“m’kay!” you agree, pulling the phone away from your ear and turning it on speaker as you eagerly wait for the pictures to send.

suguru holds up his phone and snaps a picture of his dick resting in his palm, stroking it with that hand and sending you the image with the other. “alright, sweetheart, gotta get back to work,” suguru sighs, unable to get his boner to settle down—he figures the only way it’ll happen is if he ends the call, which he really needs to do.

“aw, do you have to?”

“yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he mutters, removing the phone from his ear to end the call.

“wait, what’re you sending me—oh, fuck, you’re the worst,” suguru groans when he clicks the notification and sees a video of what you’re doing to yourself right now—it’s a five second video of you pumping your fingers in and out of your puffy cunt to his voice, and there goes his resolve to stay at work.

“i fuckin’ hate you, baby… see you in a couple hours.”

[xochosoxo]

husband!gojo ✮| headcannons

gojoxfem!reader

MDNI -> warnings: afab reader (but anyone can read yk), sfw&nsfw, arranged marriage, slight angst, comfort, pet names, flufflufffluff!, cunnilingus, gojo is pussy whipped, fingering, creamycreamycreamiest creampies, reader calls gojo daddy!, tummypushing

a/n: i had a dream abt this with some random guy and when i woke up i was so disappointed :(( LOL angwah heres some quick gojo headcannons bc i truly miss him and im so lonely.

husband!gojo who you married per each family’s request, making your marriage an arranged one.

husband!gojo who hated the idea of being tied down.

husband!gojo who couldnt wait for the ceremony to end, however when he watched you walk down the aisle, looking so innocent, he felt a tug at his heartstrings.

husband!gojo who didnt know what to do when on your honeymoon. he didnt know whether or not to interact with you or to keep his distance like he promised himself. he decides for the latter.

husband!gojo who enjoys coming to work everyday after his honeymoon because his cute little wife always delivers his lunch to him despite not asking you to.

husband!gojo who starts to soften even more when he sees that you wait for him to come home from work. youre usually sleeping on the couch. he gently scoops you up in his arms and takes you to bed.

husband!gojo who sees that you start getting tired of the routine after a while. making his lunches, waiting for him to come home late. you stop delivering his lunches personally, opting to just give it to him before he leaves in the morning. he doesnt see you when he comes home either.

husband!gojo who makes sure to wash up before slipping into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you . he missed you.

husband!gojo who feels you wake the next morning, obviously confused to see his arms around you. he sighs before bringing you closer to his chest.

husband!gojo who whispers apologies and sweet nothings in your ear as you settle yourself into him with suspicion.

he strokes your head as he says. “im sorry. i know you didnt want this marriage either. im sorry that youve been doing all this alone. i promise ill be here for you. just tell me what you need and i will do everything to help you. youve changed me y/n.”

you look at him, with creased eyebrows, obviously still not trusting him fully.

“ill give you time.” husband!gojo sighs as he lets go of you to get ready for work. you still make him lunch that day.

husband!gojo who comes home and doesnt see you on the couch. he understands that he needs to wait for your response but there is a small part of him that is wondering whether or not you have left.

husband!gojo who sighs in relief when he opens the door to your shared bedroom, seeing you all dolled up in a pretty pj set, sitting comfy on the bed.

husband!gojo who smiles when he sees your face brighten in delight. you walk up to him.

husband!gojo who is surprised when you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with your soft lips. he groans into the kiss, regretting the fact the he never kissed you after the wedding.

husband!gojo who melts to your touch as your bring him to the bed. you remove his jacket and tie as your straddle him, kissing him more harshly.

husband!gojo who makes sure youre okay with with what’s going to happen next. he kisses you again when you say yes.

husband!gojo who takes his sweet time with you. stripping you from your garments,leaving you bare infront of him. he sinks his long fingers into your sopping cunt, your head lolling back in pleasure.

husband!gojo who’s eyes roll back when he finally tastes you. youre addcitive. he laps up your juices, swirling his tongue on your clit. you cum twice on your husband’s tongue, his hands holding your legs apart so they wont close. his fingers continues to scissor you until youre screaming.

husband!gojo who fucks you in missionary position, making sure to watch your face as your react to the pleasure hes giving you.

husband!gojo who cums inside of you only to turn that cum into a creamy mess around your pussy as he pounds into you some more. he can feel his creampie dripping out of you and down his balls.

husband!gojo who enjoys how loud youve become. moaning obscenities and calling him daddy. he wants to fuck you till your dumb!

“fuck princess, youre so fucking messy. fuc—nghh..” he tries to speak but your pussy is squeezing him too well he can barely get words out.

“please daddy!! i need—aghh.. i need you! dont stopp—ahh…” you groan as you have your fourth orgasm of night.

husband!gojo who watches hearts form in your eyes when he cums inside of you for the final time. you can feel his warmth trickling into your womb.

husband!gojo who pulls out and watches his loads flood out of you. he presses on your stomach, watching as more cum gushes out of you.

husband!gojo who brings a warm towel to wipe up the cream around your sex. you moan as he does so, still recovering from all of your orgasms.

husband!gojo who wraps you up into his arms once again, praising you for how well you did.

“you did so good love..” he says stroking your back.

husband!gojo who reminds you that he has fallen in love with you and will do anything and everything in his power to make sure that you are comfortable in this marriage with him.

husband!gojo who knows the two of you will be okay when you peck him on the lips and tell him that you love him.

[ode2rin]

new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)

You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 

And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.

Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.

Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.

Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 

He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.

The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 

There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.

“Are we… alright?” he drawled.

What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 

He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.

Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.

“Okay, Rin.”

That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.

“Are you mad at me?” 

“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?

“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.

You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)

“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”

“You so are!” 

“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”

There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.

“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 

Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”

“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.

With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 

“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.

“I’m not childish.”

“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”

Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.

“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 

“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 

They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.

He was now something more, something special.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.

It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 

It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 

You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.

Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”

“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.

note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.

[shadow4-1]

"Can you just pretend to love me tonight? Please?"

Simon's never gotten a request like this before.

He's never had any qualms about selling his body. Whether it was for his cock, units of his blood plasma, or his war honed body. He's always done what he's had to - anything to stay off the streets and keep a full belly.

The girls who've paid him always wanted a brute, someone to mount them and take them for all they were worth. That was what he was used to, not some doe-eyed sweet thing begging him to be gentle.

"I want to feel loved." You admit, leaning back on the motel bed, thighs crossed in nervousness. "I um...I know I'm not very pretty-"

Simon leans forward on his knees and kisses you gently. Well, he tries to. The tip of your teeth graze painfully together as he mouths you. You squeak beneath him, hands going up to his shoulders to try and push him off on rabbit instinct. He pulls his mouth off of you just enough to mutter an apology.

"Sorry." He swallows.

You look up at him with impeccably beautiful eyes brimming with tears. You seem to finally understand there's nothing gentle about him even when he tries to be. Simon wants you to call him off, send him out of the cheap hotel. He knows he can't be as sweet at you want - as you deserve. He's just physically not built for that. At least, he's sure of it nowadays. He has a brief memory of holding his newborn nephew but it slips away just as quickly as it came.

"Can we just...go slow?" You ask again. Simon can hear the waver in your voice. You're unsure if you want to continue, but you seem to trust him for some reason. "Really, really slow?"

"Yeah."

He can do slow. He can do glacial. If there's one thing he can do, it's be measured, methodical. He wasn't a Lieutenant for nothing.

For the first time in years, he takes his time. He's used to the fast paced, hungry fucks that pay his rent in thirty minutes. This is...new, not wholly uninvited. He kisses down your collarbone, down the swell of your breasts. He nips at the lacy fabric (you dressed up for him when he was expecting just to rip it all off) as he makes his way down further. He laps at the skin beneath your belly button, making your belly flutter. Ticklish. He likes that.

Simon noses his way between your thighs, easily spreads your legs with his thick forearms. As he kisses down your cloth covered mound he admits he likes how you smell. Usually the taste of women turns him off. He prefers men, but desperate women pay more. You're desperate alright, although its a different type of desperation. Something about the nervous wetness staining your new panties has his cock jumping in his trousers. He presses his nose to the fabric, inhales deeply, and relishes in your shy squeak. Simon starts to understand your desire.

You want to be explored, mapped, and consumed slowly. You want to give up control but feel as if you can stop at any moment. You want to be seen, tasted, then completely devoured.

Instead of slipping your panties to the side, he licks his way down your thighs. You squeal and try to squirm away from the sudden sensation but he doesn't stop. He kisses down your calves and across the top of your feet. His hands are so large that they wrap around your soles completely. Simon pushes them up until they're up by your ears. He knows the position is uncomfortable for you, but he likes the view of your soft, cloth covered mound.

He nips at the back of your ankles and calves, licks down the expanse of your thighs, ans nuzzles into the gusset of your panties. Simon relishes in the squeaks and gasps ans twitches of your expectant body. It's been so long since he's teased someone, much less a sweet lil' thing like you.

Your scent is heady, comforting, nothing like he's experienced before. He finds he really likes just inhaling you in. You whimper, thighs shaking already. He hasn't even licked you yet. Simon finally admits to himself that you're stroking his ego.

He plants a firm, sweet kiss to your cloth covered cunt. The fabric is practically soaked through. He can smell your taste on the tips of his lips. His curiosity wins. He takes a firm, long lick from bottom to top. Simon tastes you, but also the flowery tang of your favorite fabric softener. You taste good. He wants more.

Simon finally releases his hold on your thighs. On instinct, or perhaps strain, they fall apart. You try to sit up but he tugs your body further towards the edge of the bed. He can feel the tension in his old knees from kneeling, but he ignores it. You've opened up your body to him. He wants to take full advantage of it.

Simon goes back to lapping at your clothed cunt. He doesn't stop until his tongue is raw from brushing repeatedly over the stitches. Drool drips down his chin.

"Off."

You huff in confusion, trying to sit up. Instead. With too easy of a tug, off come your panties. There you are. Simon knows he should slow his movements but he doesn't care. You haven't stopped him yet, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get those sweet lips in his mouth. He spreads you apart with his middle and forefinger. You're a sight to behold. Perhaps not pornstar perfect anatomy, but you're delicious looking nonetheless. He eyes your glistening, dripping slit. As bad as he wants to force his tomgue deep inside you, instead he presses a firm kiss to the hood of your clit. You jolt, trying to back away or pull him closer, he can't tell.

Simon follows your movement. He mouths hungrily at your clit, flattens his tongue and practically drools against it. He laps at you with a muted fervor. He doesn't want to hurt you. He can tell you're sensitive. It must've been awhile since the last time you'd had a man willingly do this for you. A damn shame.

Your shaky little moans are like music to Simon's ears. He follows them like a map. He circles your clit, traces the entrance of your hood, even dips lower to tease the sides of your inner lips. You seem to like that alot based on the sounds you make. He sucks on your inner wings and you squeal, thighs wrapping hard around the sides of his head. He does it again and and again until you're hiccuping in delight. Your slick drips down his chin and throat. You're such a good girl for him.

Simon knows he's going to make you cum, it's just a matter of time and technique. He has both on his side. He uses his other hand to pet at your entrance. He tries to commit your anatomy to memory, and so he takes his time dipping the pads of his fingers against your fluttering slit. Despite it obviously having been awhile, your cunt holds no resistance. In fact, it practically swallows up the tip of his middle finger. Fuck yeah, that's what he likes to see.

With measured ease, Simon slips his whole finger inwards and upwards inside of you. You keen and gasp and he can feel your insides twitching. You're tight. So tight he can feel his finger already starting to cramp up from the resistance.

If he's going to fuck you right he's still got some work to do.

[staysdelulus]

Bang Chan - Corrupted

--Boyfriend Chan and Inexperienced Reader--

Summary: Chan's been feeling it, and after being in a relationship with you for a while, he's ready to initiate intimacy. Only if you agree, of course (you certainly did).

Warnings: fem!reader, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), pinv, penetration, etc.

WC: 1.6k

--

You knew nothing. Nothing about sex. He had laughed it off when he first heard you talking about it, thinking you were joking, but the way you had looked at him, your eyes so soft and curious… he knew at that moment, you weren’t lying.

Sex? Isn’t that just… putting your dick in there and then… yeah. The way you had said it was so funny, too, he nearly laughed. But he also nearly took you right then and there. He wanted to corrupt you, and he knew the perfect time would be coming soon. The holiday season.

Dec. 24

The two of you were at your family's party, some uncle’s house with heaps of food and lots of sweets. Presents wrapped in brown grocery bags piled in front of the tree as everyone gathered around. Chan, a long-time boyfriend now, had joined, greeting your cousins, aunts, uncles, and everyone else who was there.

As you sit together on the ground, he pulls you in his lap, resting his head on your shoulder, humming as he wraps his arms around your waist. Squirming slightly in his lap, he tenses slightly, feeling the slight bulge forming already. Your words ring in his mouth again, and he has to use everything within him to not fuck you right then and there.

Luckily, it was your turn for White Elephant now, and he had the chance to compose himself before you would be back. As the hours passed, he knew he couldn’t do it today. It was late, 12:45 AM, nearly 1 in the morning, when you two left.

By the time you were back, you were too tired, kissing Chan tiredly before falling asleep in his arms. He kisses your forehead softly, before closing his eyes. It can wait, Chan. It can wait.

Dec. 25

“Merry Christmas!”

This time, you were with Chan’s family for dinner. Chan had gotten you two there early, his mother engulfing you in a hug while his father waved from the grill. Chan had tugged you with him to his room,  and you had followed, blissfully unaware of his intentions. As you sat down, he pushes you back on the bed, straddling you as he kisses you, your eyes widening before you comply, body relaxing under his touch as he deepened the kiss.

He pulls away softly, eyes meeting yours, your chest heaving as you gasped for breath. “Chan? What-”

“Lamb’s ready!”

The call from Chan’s father rings out, and Chan holds back a groan before he pulls himself up and away from you. The whole time, he’s horny. Extremely horny. His hands don’t stop touching you, whether it’s his hand fluttering against yours, his touch flickering to your thigh, holding you there before his hand left and touched a different part of you.

That night, when you arrive home, it’s late. But not too late.

“Thank you for the presents again, Chan,” you say softly, smiling as he kisses you gently.

“Of course, baby. Thank you, too,” he says. Before you can reply, he continues. “I have one more present for you.”

Your brows raise, eyes wide. “Oh, Chan, you don’t-”

“I’ve been thinking about… moving further into our relationship.” Bang Chan’s words come out of his mouth before he can stop them, your eyes widening at the implication. “You mean… Is that why you asked me about sex?”

Chan nods, a deep flush moving to the tips of his ears as he speaks softly. “I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I just… I wanted to ask.”

Your eyes search his for a second, before nodding. “Okay.”

He freezes, reality suddenly hitting him. “Are you sure? We don’t have to-”

“Just be gentle,” you whisper. “Please?”

Chan nods quickly, his hands guiding you to the bed. “I will. Tell me to stop if you need me to, okay? I’ll go slow.” God, I’m going to fucking corrupt you, Y/n.

Chan begins to kissing you slowly, straddling you as he climbed over you, kissing you deeply. His hands move to the supple flesh of your breast, gently kneading the small mounds, his hands trailing under your camisole top.

As he cups your breast, his fingers nip at your nipples, feeling them satisfyingly harden as you gasp, whimpering as his lips left yours to trail down to your jaw.

“Up,” he murmurs softly, tapping on your bare shoulder. As you do, he pulls the top off of you before tugging off your bra. Kissing your shoulder, his lips trail down to the mounds, sucking on one as his hand played with the nipple of the other.

“Channie, f-feels g-g-good,” I whimper, my eyes wide. He grins against your breast, his hand moving down to your thighs, sliding up your pants as he strokes your inner thigh.

“I know, baby,” Chan murmurs, bringing himself up on his elbows and placing a kiss on your nose. Before he brings himself down. His teeth tug on the waistband of your shorts. Tugging them off, his eyes widen. “Y/n- what- you’re not wearing panties?”

You flush slightly. “Sorry, is that a bad thing?”

He shakes his head. “No, no, no, baby. You- why?”

You shrug. “I took a shower and forgot to bring some, so I just…”

As you flush, he just laughs, a low rumble as his breath lingers on your skin. He places a kiss on your inner thigh, lips trailing closer and closer to your core. You eyes are wide. “Chan, what are you doing?”

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs softly, placing a kiss on the sensitive bundle of nerves as you gasp at the sudden feeling. “Just relax, baby. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, your eyes wide as you lean back. That’s when his tongue swipes against your core, right through the folded lips. Your hand falls to his curls, eyes flying wide open as you gasp. “Chan!”

He doesn’t stop. Not at all, his lips sucking on your clit, licking your entrance, his thumb moving to your clit every time his tongue left it, your hips bucking as you whimpered, moaning his name, the sounds rolling off of you naturally. You could feel a pressure rising in your lower abdomen, sniffling.

“Baby, gonna stretch you out,” Chan mumbles. His lips pucker up onto your clit again, fingers pushing into you slowly. He starts with one finger, pushing in inch by inch. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper, panting slightly at the overwhelming feeling, your core clenching his finger desperately. “Ch-Channie-”

“Sh, baby, let go for me,” Chan murmurs, his tongue swiping against you once more right as you come, crying out as everything within yourself releases.

You squirt. Right onto his face, his eyes rolling back as he licks you clean. Your eyes meet his, wide as you gasp. “Chan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“That was good,” he murmurs, gently reassuring you. “That was amazing, baby. Don’t apologize, hm?”

You nod, eyes watering from coming down on your high before he moves himself up, balancing himself on his elbows, kissing you deeply, the taste of you falling into your mouth. As Chan pulls away, he gently rubs your clit again, your hips bucking as you whimper, crying softly at his touch. “Sh, sh, baby. Don’t cry, hm?”

He kisses you again, his voice soft. “Gonna take care of you, okay? Remember?”

He grins as he repeats your words. “I’m going to put my dick in there, and then… you know?”

When you turn your head away with embarrassment, Chan tilts your chin back towards him. “Hey, baby. Look at me. I’m going to make you feel good, okay?”

You nod, but speak when he taps your jaw. “Yes, Channie.”

“Good girl.” His praise makes something in you twitch, your core clenching as his thumb continued to rub against you. Gently, he aligns himself with your entrance, before pushing in. And fuck. You’re tight.

Extremely tight, more than he had expected, every after fucking you with his fingers. Cock throbbing, he pushes himself in slowly, holding himself back from thrusting in and just pounding into you until he came over and over again. As you adjust and stretch, he checks in with you before beginning to thrust. Slowly, yet building speed and momentum.

“Chan-” your gasps get shorter and shorter as you whine, tears pricking your eyes at the beautiful sensations you were feeling.

He doesn’t stop. Not even when you reach your high, sobbing and whining and writhing. Just holds you down, one hand flat on your stomach, the other pushing down a leg. He continues, fucking you until he comes, thrusting through his pleasure.

And when you think he’s done, he starts again. Over and over again. Completely, utterly, obsessed.

With the way you looked, coming for him, eyes rolling back, lips parted as you sobbed in pleasure and desperation, unable to take it yet being such a good girl for him. With the way his cock could just push into you, your pussy forever clutching him. He doesn’t stop until even he can’t move anymore.

“Baby?” he murmurs softly. “You okay?”

You manage to weakly nod. He shifts his body against you, holding you as he kisses away the tears on your face. “Get some rest, baby. I’ll clean us up, okay?”

Managing to nod again, he kisses your eye, your temple, your forehead, your nose, your lips, before he just holds you, letting you fall asleep. This wouldn’t be the last time the both of you would be intimate. That much was for sure.

-

The next day, Chan finds a text from you, a smile tugging on his lips. I guess sex isn’t just a dick in there. I’m still damn sore, Chan.

Chan grins cockily before replying. It won’t be the last time you’re sore, baby.

[lokis-army-77]

Private Viewing

Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 6.8k

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.

Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.

Masterlist

Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 

You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 

Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 

You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 

“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 

“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 

It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”

You want to cry.

“Four.” 

The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.

“Three.”

You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.

“Two.”

The tears are flowing now.

“One.”

You let out a strangled scream.

“Cum baby. Do it, now.”

Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 

With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 

When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

And then the live is over. 

Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 

…

Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 

You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.

The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 

You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 

He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.

It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 

His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 

It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 

Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 

“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 

Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 

It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 

Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 

When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.

That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.

…

Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 

‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’

‘No…’ 

‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’

You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 

Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.

He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 

You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 

Princess23: hi Ed

His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"

There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.

Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.

The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 

"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.

Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 

It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"

Princess23: yes please

"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 

You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 

Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.

He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.

"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 

As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 

Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.

"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 

"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 

"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 

You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 

"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 

You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 

The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.

The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.

There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 

It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 

So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.

You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 

"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 

He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 

He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.

The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 

Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.

He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 

“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”

“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 

The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 

Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 

With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 

…

It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 

Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 

You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?

There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 

“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 

“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 

“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 

He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 

“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”

You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”

"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 

You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?

…

You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 

It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 

Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 

You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”

“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 

You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 

Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 

“What was that?” He asks.

“What was what?” You answer. 

“Why did you slam your phone down?”

“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”

“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”

A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 

“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.

Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."

… 

After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 

It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 

You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 

You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."

He turns to you. "Hum?"

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."

"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 

"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."

He doesn't look all too surprised. 

"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."

Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 

You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.

Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.

Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.

When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 

He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 

"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 

The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 

"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 

You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 

He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.

Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 

You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 

'He knows." You argue with yourself.

'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'

The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 

So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 

Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.

He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 

You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 

You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 

Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 

Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.

He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 

It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 

"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 

Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 

In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 

…

Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 

Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 

You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 

“Hi, Sweetheart.” 

“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.

“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 

“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 

Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 

Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 

Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 

“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.

He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”

He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 

You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 

As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 

“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 

“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 

He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”

“Yes, but-”

He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 

“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 

They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 

To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  

His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.

With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 

When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."

You pout. "But Eddie…"

"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."

You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 

It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 

"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."

He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."

You moan loudly at his praise. 

"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."

His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.

"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.

"Kiss me again," you beg. 

He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 

The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.

"So good for me." He praises.

You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.

"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.

"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 

You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."

Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 

You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 

You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.

"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.

The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.

"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.

"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"

It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 

Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.

You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 

"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 

Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 

He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.

The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 

He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 

You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 

Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 

The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 

In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 

“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 

You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 

Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 

“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 

Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 

You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 

“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 

He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 

Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 

“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 

“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 

“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 

“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 

Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  

You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 

You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 

Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.

“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yeah?” You whisper. 

“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 

Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 

It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 

“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 

He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 

“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 

That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 

He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 

Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first.