#best way to sell your house

[todaynewsonline]

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[homefront1]

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[wacashhomebuyers]

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[motomamita]

fugitive!könig × naive!farmer!reader

warnings: smut, +18, no condom, innocence kink, breeding kink, baby trapping, virginity loss, female reader, dub-con!!

fugitive!könig who managed to escape the law, after committing several crimes, and now travels throughout the country hiding his identity.

On one of his many trips he ends up arriving at a small town, almost lost in time, where its few inhabitants live off their animal farms and orchards. Apparently no one had televisions, and the few radios only broadcast music that was overshadowed by static. This ensured that no one there would be able to recognize him and gave him the opportunity to stay and rest for a few hours.

Tired of walking and extremely hungry, König sat down in a small cafe to have a drink. The people around him looked at him strangely, not only because they didn't know him but also because of his intimidating appearance. His back was broad, he had long legs, and the muscles in his arms were noticeable even though he was wearing a wind jacket that covered him. However, no one seemed to be bothered by his presence, the people there loved tourists and König seemed completely like one.

When it was time to pay, he noticed that he had ordered and consumed more than he could afford. He was about to offer some of his "camping" knives in exchange for the money he was missing until a figure approached him.

"Don't worry if you don't have the money to pay." you spoke with a sweet voice and doing everything possible so that Konig would not feel embarrassed. "I sell the fruits to the owner of the place so I'm sure I can reach an agreement with him."

König was fascinated by you. Not only because of your timely friendliness but also your very natural and almost unique appearance that was very difficult to find in other places. You were wearing a jean gardener, some comfortable shoes and you were carrying a basket that minutes ago was full of fruits and vegetables from your garden. König looked down, somewhat shy and not knowing how to react to you, the truth is that during his escape he had not met many friendly people.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return." You smiled when you saw that no words came out of his mouth. "Here we greatly appreciate tourists and travelers, after all they are the ones who keep this small town from turning into a ghost town."

You invited König to take refuge in your small house for as long as he needed before leaving again for another place. König accepted, surprised at your remarkable naivety in letting a complete stranger into your house and providing him with all the care.

When he arrived, you showed him where the shower was and what his room would be where he could rest. You left a clean change of clothes on his bed and selflessly went off to make dinner. Once he cleaned, König followed the delicious smell and came to the kitchen where you were on your back stirring a large pot of what seemed to be a stew. You were so focused that you didn't notice the presence of the big man behind you. he thought about how easy it would be to cut your neck with one of those long knives you had there. But the idea quickly disappeared when you turned around and a wide smile formed on your face when you saw him.

That stew was the best he had tasted in a long time, so much so that he served himself 3 plates, leaving you totally pleased. The next morning, König didn't really know exactly what to do. He could stay one more night and wake up in the middle of the night to raid your entire home, even leave after having a trip with you. He was hesitant, and that hesitation turned into doubt when you offered to cut his hair and trim his long beard, which he accepted.

That same afternoon König sat down to drink a lemonade made by you while he watched you harvest super large, red strawberries from a distance. He fixed his gaze on the way your pants hugged your butt in a tempting way and how you hummed a melody quietly that he couldn't make out. A tingling appeared in König's tummy and he suddenly noticed an erection growing inside his pants. You looked so pretty, so innocent. It was obvious from afar that you didn't kill a fly and that your care for him was sincere.

The days passed and König seemed to have no intention of leaving, that didn't bother you at all. Now he helped you with the heavy work on the farm, carrying large amounts of hay on his shoulder and feeding the animals. His favorite activity was watching you milk the cows, fantasizing about your hands and the way the milk dripped from them.

His approaches to you intensified, taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to touch you or rub against you. he soon discovered that you had no idea about any sexual activity, acting confused at his double meaning words and insinuations. You were the perfect muse to fulfill all his fantasies without anyone being able to stop him.

Your parents had died a long time ago, leaving you alone in charge of the big farm and all the obligations of the adult world. That led König to think that life on that farm couldn't be bad. He knew how to handle hard work well and you did everything you could to teach him and please him. The idea of ​​starting from scratch, with you there, totally convinced him.

You were a healthy, hard-working woman and you needed someone like konig with you. But König needed to have something that would force you to keep him there with you, forever and that would confirm the mutual love that you both had to give each other. That's when he found the solution: he had to get you pregnant.

That afternoon he made a point that you wouldn't leave the stable until you were full of his cum. He started by complimenting your dress and how pretty that color looked on you. Then the caresses that increased in intensity until he managed to let you be carried away by him and his carnal desire. Now he had you under him, with your skirt up and your underwear hanging from one of your feet. Out of desperation, König only lowered his pants to his heels, even with his work boots on. You were on a large pile of hay, sweating from the great summer heat and moaning loudly.

His thrusts were brutal, making their way inside you that you barely had time to understand everything that was happening. The pleasure was so much that you could barely think about anything other than König's gaze and the way his balls slapped your ass.

"Oh, baby. You're so so tight.. And wet, shit" König groaned, sighing loudly at the pleasure your pussy was giving him. "Tell me, how did a cute little thing like you stay a virgin for so long, huh?" You opened your mouth to answer but only moans came out. "Uh? Talk to me, sweetheart, talk to me.."

"I.. I don't know.." you managed to say, overstimulated by everything. König's rough shirt rubbed against your clit, giving both pleasure and pain. König was so big that he covered you with his entire body, leaving you with almost no place to breathe air other than his breath.

"Uh? Don't you know? These farm boys are idiots... They wouldn't know how to please a pretty thing like you..." König cut off his sentence to get even closer to you and kiss you, putting his tongue inside your mouth. You tried to keep up with him but that triggered the kiss to be even wetter and hotter for him.

"König.. Give me more, please!" He smiled as he heard the urgency in your broken voice. You looked so pretty like that, almost not understanding what was happening but still pleased and eager for him to give you even more.

He, ready to please you, grabbed your legs and raised them to your shoulder, adopting a new position. His thrusts continued, his fat cock forcing its way into your no longer so virgin pussy and the simple sound of your skin slapping together made your warm walls embrace him. Not really knowing what to do, you brought your hands to König's big, muscular shoulders, feeling a few scars on them.

"Oh, my pretty little thing.. I'm going to fill you inside and you're going to be the prettiest mom in this whole damn town.." You dug your nails into his shoulder and your gaze was filled with confusion. "You like it, huh? You're going to make me so happy, isn't that what you want?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what he meant but his cock rammed even deeper into you leaving you almost without any thought. Tears formed in your eyes from the pleasure and absolute adoration with which he looked at you.

"Come on, mommy.. Make me happy, carry my precious baby.."

In the same way that König had managed to get his way in prison, he had gotten his way with you. Now you both lived together as a couple on the farm, happy and with a baby on the way inside your fertile womb.

[lov-3-rs]

Let’s be Honest

Simon Riley (Bodyguard) x Reader!!

(mdni 18+)

Your father is an undercover investigator working a dangerous case on a human trafficking ring. Unfortunately, they somehow discovered his intentions, and now they're out for revenge. So, they’ve put a bounty on your head, claiming you’re worth millions to whoever is able to find you and sell you to the best bidder. Despite the danger, your father can’t abandon his mission as there were other lives on the line. He’s too close to cracking the case, rescuing the victims. To protect you, he hired someone no one would see coming for them and that was going to be protecting you. He hired a Ghost.

————————————————————————————

The moment you saw the brute, you couldn’t believe it. This 6’3”, 220lb, constantly masked man was supposed to be by your side for who knows how long. The sheer size of him was intimidating enough, but the mask? It kept you wondering what kind of man was beneath it.

You couldn’t argue with your father, though. He wanted you safe, and you weren’t about to be taken and sold off to some creep. So, you dealt with it. But now it’s been two months too long. Two damn months of constant monitoring, endless rules, and the same warnings: 'You need to listen to me Y/n,' 'Stay by my side,' or ‘It’s not safe.' It was honestly getting sickening at the fact he had complete control over your day to day life now.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I was thinking of going shopping today, get some fresh air,” you say, taking a bite of your breakfast. He stands near the window, eyes scanning the street outside like he always does. “Maybe,” he says, his voice low, almost disinterested. You roll your eyes. “Jesus Christ, why not? It’s just us walking down the street, Simon.”

You started using his real name after weeks of pestering him to tell you. It felt weird calling him “Ghost” all the time—like something out of a video game. What good was being around someone this long if you didn’t even know their name?

He glances back at you, his expression unreadable behind the mask—if there’s an expression at all. Then, just as silently, he turns back to the window. “You never know.” You put your fork down and stop eating, “Simon, I can’t keep going days without stepping foot outside, i’m literally going insane”, he steps away from the window and pulls a chair out to sit beside you. “Everything I do and everything I say is to protect you, that is the whole reason I am here”. you looked into his hauntingly dead eyes. “Please you can’t keep me trapped in these walls”. You say with hesitation in your voice wondering if this will be another useless plea to let him agree for you to get out the house. He paused for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. You smile, “oh my gosh really? we can go?!” you say quickly standing from your chair in excitement. “yes. but the moment I feel something is off we leave, immediately” he says sternly. You were already putting your plate away and running to your room to get ready.

You visited a few of your favorite stores near your house, picking up small items here and there. Simon stayed close, as usual, walking silently beside you. As you stepped out of another shop, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We’re going to one more store, then we’re heading home. Do you understand?” You shot him a side-eye but nodded, not in the mood for another argument.

The last stop was the lingerie shop—you had been eyeing their new fall line for weeks. You grabbed a few panties and bras before something else caught your eye: the most stunning, sexy set you’d ever seen. You had to try it on. Walking into the dressing room, you slipped out of your clothes and into the delicate lace set. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin. You peeked your head out, only seeing Simon waiting, his posture as stoic as ever. You stepped out to check yourself in the mirror, admiring the way the set hugged your curves. From the corner of his eye, Simon caught sight of you. His jaw clenched almost immediately as he tried to keep his focus elsewhere, but it was impossible. He’d been around you every day for two months, and he had seen plenty—your tight shirts with no bra, shorts that barely covered anything. He’d always kept his cool, reminding himself that you were off-limits, and he took care of himself whenever you were asleep or when he took a shower. But seeing you now, in something so revealing, stirred something deeper in him that made his jeans tighten. He forced himself to remain still, but the tension in his body betrayed his thoughts. Respect for your father, the job—those were the only things keeping him from acting on what he felt. And he had to keep it that way, or at least he was trying to.

You caught Simon’s gaze in the mirror, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. His eyes were unreadable behind the mask, but you could feel something he wasn’t saying. You quickly looked away, clearing your throat. “What do you think?” you asked casually, but your pulse quickened. You didn’t know why you even asked—it wasn’t like you cared what he thought about lingerie. Or did you?

He blinked, caught off guard. “About what?”

“The lingerie,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I thought I’d get a professional opinion.” His jaw tightened more, but you caught the flicker of something in his eyes. “You don’t need my opinion.” You stepped a little closer, testing his boundaries. “Maybe I do.” He stayed still, but you could see the tension in his stance. His voice, when he spoke, was low. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You laughed lightly. “What? Shopping?” His eyes met yours, and for a second, there was nothing but silence between you. “No,” he said softly, almost reluctantly. “This.” The weight of his words hung in the air. For a moment, neither of you moved. His response was a beat too slow. “You should hurry up,” he muttered, his voice deeper than usual. You rolled your eyes, but his tone made your skin tingle. There was something about the way he held himself that made you wonder—did he see you the way you were starting to see him? You slipped back into the dressing room to change, but the tension lingered, thick in the air. When you came out, dressed again, Simon stood up immediately, his shoulders tense. “Let’s go.” The rest of the walk home was quiet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted.

You walked into the house, setting your bags down and slipping off your shoes. Simon followed closely behind, immediately locking the door and heading to the windows like he always did, scanning the outside for any sign of danger. But your mind was elsewhere, replaying that one word—this—over and over again.

What did ‘it’ mean? You had to know.

“Simon,” you called out softly, still unable to meet his eyes. “What did you mean earlier?” He stiffened immediately, turning to face you. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he’d been hoping you would let it go. He didn’t mean to let that word slip out, and now he was trying to think of a way around it. “What do you mean?” His tone was even, but there was a slight edge to it, a hint of tension. You swallowed, gathering your courage. “You said I was making this hard. I’m not sure what that means… I want you to tell me.” Finally, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Simon just stared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching like he was fighting with himself. His silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, as though he was weighing whether or not to tell you the truth. He turned back to the window, staring outside as if it would give him the answer he needed. “You’re making my job harder,” he said after a long pause, but there was something in his voice—a hesitation. But you had a smirk on your face knowing exactly what it was, “it was the set wasn’t it?” there was a pause, “you thought I looked good, too good right?” you stepped closer to him testing his limits wanting more reaction out of him. “I think you should keep this fantasy shit to yourself” he said quickly snapping back at you, but you kept pushing, “I don’t blame you Simon, I bet it’s been months since you got laid and I won’t lie it’s been a hot minute for me too with you being around me all the time, having me cooped in this house” you can see his brows furrowing. “you’re crossing the god damn line” that’s what he was saying but the raging boner in his pants said completely different about your attitude.

Before you knew it, he was stepping toward you, his hand gripping your arm firmly. “You’re pushing me too far,” he said, his voice low and rough. You met his gaze, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “Maybe I need you to push back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment was charged, and without warning, one of his hands let go from your arm to lift up his mask above his nose exposing his lips. your eyes widen never seeing anything but his eyes for the last few months. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, It was intense and consuming, leaving both of you breathless and more entangled than before.

He picked you up and put you on the dining table. the kiss became more passionate with his hands tangled in your hair, you could feel your core throb waiting to be touched. Simon pulled away from you and looked into your eyes, “you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to touch you” he says breathing heavily. “all those times you walked around with no bra and I could see your fucking nipples through your shirt and the times you walked around with your ass out, god I wanted to bend you over, i’d fuck you right there and don’t even forget about the times I could here you moaning in the shower doing god knows what to that pussy, ya fuckin minx” your cunt was practically dripping at his words, your breathing became more heavier, “Then do it Simon, bend me over and fuck me” before you could say anymore he already was turning you over on the counter and pulling your pants down. “already planning on it love”. Simon pulled your pants down then slowly pulled your panties down revealing your wet pussy. he bent down to get eye level with it bring his fingers up to your folds and playing with your clit. You moaned at his touched, “fuh-fuck”. Simon pulled his fingers away and replaced it with his tongue, licking your throbbing clit and making you squirm.

He ate you out till you came on his mouth, “Si please”. Simon got up and looked at your bent over form while he started unbuckling his pants, “please what love?” he already knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. “fuck me hard” he smiled at your words taking his hard cock in his hand rubbing his pre cum all over the top of his head giving it extra lubricant. He aligned his cocked to your hole and slammed into you making you jump, “Shhhhhhhit” you hiss out the word from the painful pleasure. He started to thrust in and out of you hearing your moans made him want to cum already but he couldn’t, it felt too damn good to stop now. Simon bent down to your ear, “All those fuckin times you were playing with this tight cunt in the shower, who were you thinkin about huh?”. You didn’t want to answer out of embarrassment but you did it anyways, “y-you si, I thought about sucking your cock and you cumming all over my tits” that snapped something in him when you said that, his pace picked up he started fucking you harder, his balls slapping against your clit. “what would ya daddy think of the man he hired to protect you fucking your pussy raw?”. You could feel your self about to cum, “Si I’m gonna cum on your cock” his thrust became sloppier feeling himself about to finish too, “cum baby, cum”. Simon thrusted harder into your cunt making your back arch more and your ass jiggle against his hips the sight was pushing him over the edge, “god damn baby i’m gonna to cum” his hands gripped into your hips harder. “Simon cum inside me god please”. He busted a load in you, pushing his cock feel in you making sure nothing came out, “fuckin hell”.

After the intensity of the moment subsided, Simon and you lay there in the aftermath, the room now quiet except for your shared breathing. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “I didn’t plan for this,” Simon said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and affection. “I never wanted to cross that line.” You turned to face him, your own emotions swirling. “Neither did I, but… it felt right in the moment. I just want to know what this means for us.” Simon looked at you with a conflicted expression. “I don’t have all the answers. This situation is complicated, and I’m still trying to figure out how to balance my feelings with my responsibilities.” he says lowly “I understand,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “I just need to know where we stand. Do you want to try and make this work, or is this something we need to move past?” There was a pause as Simon considered his words. “I care about you more than I should,” he admitted. “But I also need to focus on keeping you safe. We’ll have to navigate this carefully.” You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said, squeezing his hand.

“As long as we’re honest with each other.”

[artbyblastweave]

Playing through Fallout:New Vegas for the first time in years. And I'm developing a newfound appreciation for the damage done to the intended pacing of the narrative with the addition of the Courier's Stash. I wake up in Goodsprings, and as part of the extended tutorial you have Ghosttown Gunfight, the fairly self-contained faction war between Goodsprings and the Powder Gangers. And the design intent, I think, is that this is probably supposed to be a pain in the ass, with only one or two avenues of support available to you given the low level at which you'll pick this one up. Six Powder Gangers, some in body-armor, would be a serious threat, and committing to fighting against that with your dinky 9mm and a varmint rifle seems like a rough time! An actual uphill battle, doing the right thing instead of the easy thing. Fortunately, Benny inexplicably left my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, so I cleaned up.

I'm working my way south, and, you know, in a version of the game where Benny didn't inexplicably leave my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, this would have been the knock-on effect of my "good" Karmic choice in defending Goodsprings; the road south is littered with powder gangers who'd have been neutral had I not kicked the hornet's nest. As it stands? Free experience. I hit Primm, and fighting through the cramped hallways of the Bison Steve I encounter an enemy armed with what was clearly supposed to be the first heavy weapon I'd encounter in the world. Tight Corridors. Inexplicable Grenade Launcher. I clean up. South I go to the Mojave outpost, Nipton, that whole thing. And clearly, clearly you aren't meant to take a swing at Vulpes here, right? You're supposed to take it in, get a sense for the legion. In the version of the game that shipped you're supposed to get bodied if you try to kick the beef gate here. There are allowances in the game for if you pull it off, sure, but I did try with just the service rifle, without the glorious first-strike capabilities afforded to me by the 40mm grenade launcher that Benny inexplicably left in the grave with me. It didn't go very well!

So now I'm dogged by Legion hit squads on my way to Novac, which I get the distinct impression was not the point in the game at which this was supposed to start happening to me, because I am gathering up some pretty expensive equipment, all sold for space. I punch through to Vegas, and at this stage, the clear developer intent is that you need to spend some time milling around Freeside or Camp McCarran in order to gain access to the Strip- do odd jobs to scrape up the money, buy the forgery from Mick and Ralphs, gain monorail access, get your science skill high enough to hack the robot. Get the lay of the land, get a feel for the people, send some time stewing in the human cost of House's walled garden before you head in and hear the pitch from the big man himself.

Except I've got 5000 caps from selling off all the legion killteam equipment. In I go!

And the fun thing is, right, the Courier's stash can't be diegetic, but it is having a very direct impact on the world here. A top legion guy just went down to my inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher. Whatever else I'm roleplaying as, I am roleplaying as a guy who woke up in the possession of an inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher, and neither I nor my character can plausibly ignore that fact given its terrible bloodstained utility. I play a man, a man who would be a good man, a man nonetheless bewitched by the terrible resolutory power of the grenade launcher. My best friend, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher! My worst enemy, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher!

[myladysapphire]

High Infidelity

scorned and betrayed by your husband, you find solace in the arms of his uncle.

based of this request

word count: 2,455

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, cheating (both reader and Aemond), p in v, oral (f reciving) fingering, slight violence (legit a single punch), name calling. not proofread!

Gwayne Hightower x fem!reader/Aemondswife!reader

Masterlist

authors note: Gwayne is Alicents youngest brother in the books, but apparently he is the oldest brother in the show, but i’m still gonna make him younger than Alicent, who’s about 34, so in my head gwayne is around 30-32, and reader is older than Aemond.

He was with her again.

every night it seemed he would leave you. His wife. In favour of her.

You didn’t know who she was, were he met or, if she lived in the keep or in flea bottom.

All you knew is that he spent night after night alone with her.

He would come back smelling of wine and her perfume.

The smell seeping into your bedsheets.

The bed he insisted on sharing , even after fucking another woman.

After calling you ugly.

saying he never would have chosen you, not for your brain and certainly not your looks.

It wasn’t that you were ugly. Just that your hair was untamed, your clothes never quite fitting right.

It was the little things he picked on, insecurities you had noticed time and time again. And though you had strived to change these insecurities. Spending the crowns money on dresses from the best dressmakers, on hair oils from Essos. Aemond still found a way to make you feel insecure.

He loved to point out the insecurities, loved to belittle you, loved to bring to light insecurities you never knew you had.

You had been married nearly three years now, had provided him with both a son and daughter and yet to him you were still not enough.

The words of love and kindness he once gave you, in the first few months of your marriage, vanished. And in said cruel tormenting words replaced them.

Instead, those sweet words were now given to her.

And you were left all alone.

But a scorned woman is not a quite one, you did not shout or argue with him, no. you set your sights elsewhere.

To the man you had once know and loved, the man you had met before him. The man you had once longed to marry in Aemond’s stead.

His uncle, Gwayne Hightower.

Had your parents not craved status and the ideas of their grandchildren and princes and princess, you might have been able to marry him.

You were a daughter of house Redwyne, a noble house known for its fleet and riches.

And though you had grown up in the Arbor, your family had sent you away to Oldtown when you became of age, to win the favour of Otto Hightower and the potential match between you and one of his Targaryen grandchildren.

And though it had worked, with you being summoned by him to kings landing where you found yourself courting your now husband, Prince Aemond.

Though you had first, found yourself besotted with Gwayne.

A dashing knight, who had crowned you the queen of love and beauty at your first ever tourney.

He had won your heart only for it to be swiftly pulled form his grasp as you were summoned to kings landing on by Otto hightower.

You had never truly forgotten about him, even in the years you had gone since seeing him.

Then your wedding came, and as uncle of the groom of course he came.

And throughout the whole ceremony your eyes were drawn to his, wishing it was him you were saying your vows to.

But as fleeting as your love for him was, so was his presence. For he swiftly left after the wedding.

But not before whispering the words you had dreamed of hearing.

you swiftly found yourself married to an insecure man, who had too found himself a place in your heart, however small.

In those three years since your wedding, three years since you had seen him. You had thought you had grown to love…if not care for your husband.

And you had thought he had to, the words “I love you” really selling his lies. And now he betrayed you, night after night.

It hurt, and gods were you angry.

Everyone knew of his infidelity.

His lust for this other woman.

And though you didn’t know of it, not truly. For all you wished to do was deny it.

Doing everything in your power to imagine another reason for his disappearance, for his wine-soaked lips and rose scented body.

His drunken remakes about your appearance, how he hated your hair, your eyes. How you weren’t her.

Then as time passed the remakes turned hateful, as if you were keeping him from her.

And so the once words of beauty and love turned to ugly hate.

You had tried to not believe his remarks,

Hoping that a apart of him only craved an old love, just as you did.

Then Aegon came into your room, drunk in grief and yet finding so much humour in your husband’s affair he could barley get the words out.

He and laughed and laughed until he saw the tears in his sister in laws face.

He had regretted it instantly, though you could tell he still found humour in Aemond’s actions.

He claimed it was the woman he paid for Aemond to lose his virginity too, how she must have such a hold on him after all these years.

And as he watched the silent angry tears fall from your face, he had run out of the room, apologising as he did.

A week passed since then.

War was declared.

Lords and knight arriving, preparing for orders.

One knight in particular arrived, Gwayne Hightower.

You watched as he rode into the red keep.

His tired raged, yet no less handsome form, jumping of his horse.

His sister, the queen, greeting him.

You had raced down the steps, far to egar to see him.

And yet it all seemed to happen in slow motion.

His eye turning to you. A soft smile filling his face.

He bowed slightly, smiling even more as you returned with your own.

Lifting your hand to his mouth, in a slow gentle kiss.

Your eyes never leaving the others.

A cough had broken your hazes, his hand still clasping yours as you both turned to Alicent.

“Daughter” she greeted, her gaze questioning as she took you both in.

There was a fair age difference between you both, though you were older than Aemond, Gwayne was still years your senior. You were sure to Alicent it must seem strange almost, how close you seemed, close enough to greet him, to smile and kiss each others hand.

“You know my brother?” she asked, her gaze never leaving your joined hands.

You slowly separated your hand from his, though the slight caress of your fingers was sure to raise Alicent’s eyebrow’s.

“Yes, from my years in old town” you said, finally breaking eye contact with Gwayne.

“ah” she said, uncertain of what to make of your friendship with one another, “I am glad my brother has another friendly face, here at court.”

“As am I” Gwayne mused “it has been years since I last saw you, my lady.”

“Since the wedding I believe” Alicent interjected, finding the need to remined you both  of your marital status.

“Ah yes, how is my nephew?” he asked, eyes fixed on your face, taking in every emotion passing between your eyes.

“I don’t know ser, may haps you should check the brothels and tell me yourself” you said, glancing to Alicent to see her reaction.

She pierced her lips, seemingly shocked at the notion “I am sure that- “

“ask the king if you must, I learnt it from him, though the wine and perfume was more than another hint for me” you mused, turning back to Gwayne “I shall show you to your chambers, ser” you said, before Alicent could say anything more in the matter.

Lacing your arm through his, you weaved your way through the red keep. Finding your conversations never ending as if no time had passed at all.

“I have missed you” you breathed as you entered his chambers.

Finally, alone after all these years.

He smiled, a true smile one that he only reserved for you.

Though there was some trepidation, uncertainty, in his gaze.

As if he knew that despite having you first, being your first everything, you would never be his.

“I am sure no more that I have” he mused.

“I doubt that” you whispered, sadness clear in your tone.

“What do you mean?” he said, scowling “has my nephew done something?”

“i-“ you were unsure of what to say.

It had been years since you had seen him. And though you had sent letters back and forth, they were restrained. Finding it hard to talk as you once did, be as open as you once had.

But as you looked at him, you saw everything you had ever craved, ever desired. Everything you had been deprived of for three long years.

“what” he prompted, moving closer to you.

“he is cruel…he has a lover in the city and only hates me for not being her” you sneered.

“And do you hate him?” he asked, his hand reaching for yours once again.                                                                                                                                       

“I resent him…but I understand him. He only treats me how I wish I could treat him; he says the words I crave to say to him, act the way I crave to act…with you” you said, your faces so close that you were sharing your breaths.

“I never stopped wishing I had stolen you away that night, married you in his stead” he breathed, “I hate that he Is cruel…I j=had hoped you found love in his arms not hatred… I cannot but feel guilty” he said, his mouth kissing the corner of yours.

“We should have ran away…gotten married for love and ran from our duty” you agreed as he peppered kisses down your neck, his breath caressing your skin.

He hummed against your neck, his fingers playing with the laces on your back.

“please” you begged, moving his arm to grasp you, to pull you close to him.

Unlacing your dress, he started to pepper kisses down your chest.

“gods, I missed this sight” he groaned, kissing around your breasts.

You were insecure, having had two children, and year of belittling on your appearance. You went to cover yourself, only for Gwayne to tear your arms away from you, pinning them behind your back, as he stripped the remained of your clothes off of you.

He descended down your body, leaving hot kisses as he went, until he finally reached your wet cunt.

He gave a slow, tortuous lick through your folds.

Groaning at the taste of you, he moved his head further into your thighs , locking and tasting your cunt like you were his last meal.

moaning in pleasure, your hands, moved from his hold and reached down to clutch to grip his hair, tightening when he finally found your bud.

Focusing is efforts on your small bud of nerves, he sucked and licked at your bud, slowly bringing his fingers to your entrance.

Slowly pushing into you, your cunt hot and tight, from a year of neglect.

Your hips ground themselves against his face, soon loosing yourself to the pleasure as  he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

You peaked, as his third finger entered you. The pleasure overwhelming, and near too much as he continued to lap up your juices as you peaked all over his face.

Finaly moving from your thighs, he backed away from you, moving to stand, before pushing you down onto his bed.

Standing back from you, he ever so slowly took of his own clothes, revelling his toned chest and his hard thick cock.

Slowly crawling onto the bed, his body covering yours he finally took your lips with his.

Your first kiss with him in years.

It was hot messy and desperate.

Everything you needed craved and loved.

His tongue danced with yours, as he pulled your legs apart positioning himself between your thighs.

He pulled back from your lips, his eyes connecting with yours as he slowly pushed in side.

He filled you in a way Aemond never had, his cock hitting that one spot of nerves, only he had ever found, again and again as he thrusted his hips into you.

He moved to kiss you once more, his hips pumping faster and faster as he did.

You had never felt so perfect, so lost in pleasure as the sweet spot was hit over and over again.

Your second peak fast approaching, and you had turned into a moaning mess.

Grasping desperate to him as you both peaked, and he spilled his seed inside you.

Your breaths were heavy, your bodies still attacked as you both effused to leave the others hold.

That as until the door open, and her husband strolled in.

“uncle-“ he started, clearing coming to greet Gwayne, only to find you in his arms “wife?!” he sneered.

Gwayne moved to stand, covering himself quickly as he moved to hide you from Aemond, “nephew! How delightful!” he said in mock joy.

“what is she doing here?” he sneered, eyes darting around Gwayne body, trying to reach your eyes.

“what is it to you?” Gwayne drawled.

“she is my wife!”

“is she?” Gwayne laughed, “then perhaps you should treat her as such and not leave her to run of with your little whores!” Gwayne said, tone filled with rage.

Of course he knew of Aemodsn doing, of his treatment of his sweet lady, his siter had told him, ashamed of both her sons treatment of their wives.

And even if she hadn’t told him, the rumours of Aemond’s affairs had long travelled to the reach.

“you forget yourself!”

“I do not, you have treated her like a whore! As if she is worth nothing when she is worth the world!”

“so, you fucked her, because I am such a bad husband?” Aemond sneered, his eyes gleaming with rage.

“gods, are you that vain? This has nothing to do with you Aemond” you interjected.

“Nothing? Nothing to do with me? You are my wife!”

“I am not a broodmare! I am not owned by you just because we are married!” you said, standing from the bed, only a sheet covering your body.

“then what? You mean to say you are in love” he said mockingly.

“yes” you both responded at the same time, your eyes connecting and speaking in only a language you both spoke.

“you whore-” he started,. But Gwayne acted fast, landing a smooth and quick punch at Aemond. Knocking him clean out on the floor.

Your eyes locked in shock, releasing what had happened, and before you knew it your clothes were thrown on, bags packed and your children in your arms as you ran and caught the first both to Essos.

Away from your husband and the gods forsaken war that would have only lead to your doom.

taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNE TARGARYEN 2 @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @cloboboo @aegonswife

to be added to taglist

[rafesheaven]

friends with benefits ༉ೀ

pairing: bsf!rafe x reader word count: 1.5k warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, unprotected sex, pull-out method (that needs it's own warning tbh), praise, 18+ minors dni a/n: req from nonnie, "please write some bsf!rafe smut, they are like childhood bsf but started becoming friends with benefits as they got older" +i had a vision so this is (kinda) a sequel to dry humping bsf!rafe

main m.list ⟡ taglist

You and Rafe have known each other since you were kids because your parents were friends. Your parents used to talk about how great it would be if they lived next door to each other. One day, an opportunity appeared when the neighbor next door to the Cameron's decided to sell their house. Of course, your parents were quick to jump and make an offer on the house and that's how you landed living next door to Rafe Cameron, your childhood best friend.

You guys constantly hung out, practically glued to the hip. The two of you would often go to parties together and occasionally go for rides on Rafe’s bike, and he was almost over at your house nearly every day. As frequently as the two of you hung out, there was one tradition both of you favored the most. That tradition involves swimming and ending the night with a movie marathon, which you are currently doing.

Merely just a little over a month ago, he helped give you your first orgasm, simply by sitting on his lap and dry-humping him like you were in heat. Ever since that day anytime you needed relief, Rafe was there to help, whether with his fingers or mouth.

You weren’t sure what to label what the two of you had going on, especially when you would attempt to return the favor by either giving him a handjob or sucking him off, to which, he’d turn you down, telling you that he doesn’t want anything in return.

Well, you guess you could label it as friends with benefits, except the only one benefitting from it would be you. At least, that’s what you thought, but the truth is, Rafe was benefitting a lot from it, he loved nothing more than pleasing you, making you feel good till you’re reduced to nothing but a whining mess. 

Both of you were sprawled out on your bed, a random movie playing as his arm was wrapped around your waist, your back flushed against his chest. Throughout the entire day, your pussy has been throbbing, aching for any sort of relief. This caused you to be squirming around, pressing your thighs together, all while huffing from being sexually frustrated. 

Rafe grew accustomed to your body language, specifically when you were horny. Unsurprisingly, he immediately picked up on how you were acting, but, you weren’t exactly subtle with the way you were grinding your ass against him. You can feel the tent in his pants poking against your ass as he lets out a low groan, “Jesus, are you that fuckin’ desperate that you can’t stop squirming around?”.

You mutter under your breath, causing him to reach around, squishing your cheeks as he turns your head to face him, “Either use that pretty mouth of yours or you can keep huffin’ and puffin’, princess”. 

You groan before letting out a small ‘yes’ in response, to which, he snorts, “Yes? Yes what?”. You push your bottom lip out, “Yes, I’m that desperate…I need to cum”. A small smirk appears on his face, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”.

You roll your eyes at his cockiness as he pushes you to lay on your back, hands moving up and down the sides of your waist. His hands move lower to pat your thigh, signaling for you to lift your hips and once you do, he’s tugging at your shorts, tossing them to the side. 

He parts your thighs, spreading them wide before moving to slot himself between them. “Shit, would you look at that? You’re fuckin’ soaked through your panties” he groans to himself, his eyes fixated on the mess that’s pooled in your panties. 

He’s planting kisses along your inner thighs, making his way towards your clothed cunt. Rafe’s fingers found their way to the waistband of your panties, hooking themselves under before sliding them off of you, revealing your glistening folds. “Can never get over how pretty your pussy is” he mutters to himself, leaning forward to lick a strip against your folds. He hooks both of his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer till his face is buried against your slick cunt. 

You can feel him grinning to himself when you let out a squeal as his tongue delves deep inside you. His grip tightens on your thighs, pinning them down, and his tongue eagerly moves in and out of you as you grind your cunt against his mouth. “S-shit, Rafe” you whine, hands tugging at the roots of his hair, earning a groan from him. His tongue moves to flick against your pulsing clit and you moan when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking lightly. 

He unwraps one arm from under your thigh, hand moving between your legs and his thick middle and ring finger prodding at your hole before sliding in, knuckles deep inside of you. His fingers pump in and out of you while his tongue swirls and flicks at your clit. The combination of his fingers and his tongue on you, have you crying out in pleasure, your back arching off the mattress.

You’re grinding against his mouth and fingers, desperately and selfishly needing more than what he’s giving you but it’s not enough. “Fuck, Rafe…please, I need you” you whine, making him pull his mouth off your clit, looking up at you, “You have me, princess”. 

“S’not enough” you whimper, “Need more…I need your cock inside of me. Please, daddy”. Rafe’s cock twitches in his shorts, his eyes darken the second you call him ‘daddy’ and he’s sliding his fingers out of you, sucking his arousal-coated fingers as he moves away from between your legs. He stands up, swiftly pulling his shorts and boxers down, kicking them somewhere before climbing back onto your bed. His lips attach to your neck, sucking bruises into your flesh while his palms push your thighs flat against the mattress, holding them down. 

He pulls away from your neck, admiring the marks starting to form. He wraps his hand around his shaft, teasingly sliding his cock up and down your folds, “Need me stuffed inside of you that bad? Beg for it. Beg for daddy’s cock, princess”. You writhe under him when he repeatedly taps the head of his cock on your clit, causing you to whine and plead. Tears are practically welling in your eyes from how much you need him, your pussy aching for him, and only him. 

“Don’t worry, princess, daddy’s gonna give you exactly what you’re needy for” he coos, you gasp when you feel him sliding his thick cock into you, stretching your cunt the more he sinks inside of you. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight” he grunts, slowly thrusting in and out of you, “Would’ve fucked you sooner if I knew your pussy feels like heaven”.

His large hand snakes up your body to wrap around your throat as he starts fucking you harder. Your hand moves to rest on his hand that’s wrapped around your throat, squeezing it to urge him to tighten his grip on your neck. He squeezes your neck firmly, groaning when your walls flutter around him, encouraging him to snap his hips into yours harder. “Oh fuck…just like that” you mewl and he leans down, pressing his lips to yours, “Doing so good f’me, princess”. 

“You feel so good wrapped around me” he moans into your mouth, “Takin’ me so well like I knew you would”. His free hand grabs at your thigh, hooking it around his waist, allowing him to fuck into you at a deeper angle. He breaks the kiss to watch your face contort in pleasure, your eyes fluttering shut, to which he lightly taps your face, “Keep your eyes on me. Show daddy who’s makin’ you feel good, yeah?”.

You wrap your other leg around his waist, making him thrust into you deeper than before. “Y-yes daddy” you can’t help but whine, the tip of his cock repetitively hitting your sweet spot. He releases his hold on your neck, slipping his hand between the two of you, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing steady circles. Your hands wrap around him, nails scraping against his muscular back. You’re a whimpering mess, eyes glued to his and he can see the fucked-out expression on your face as you struggle to keep your eyes on him. 

His thumb circles your clit faster and he quickens his thrusts, his hips snapping against yours harshly as he feels you clamping down on him, signaling that you’re close. “Gonna cum f’me, princess?” he growls, “C’mon, let me know how good I’m fuckin’ you, cream all over daddy’s cock”. 

Your legs tremble as they tighten around his waist, eyes rolling to the back of your skull, crying out his name as you throw your head back against the plush pillows. Your orgasm triggers his own, his thrusts becoming sloppy before he’s pulling out and you’re quick to wrap your small hand around him, giving his length a few pumps. Grunts and moans leave his mouth as he comes, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach white. 

The two of you are a panting mess and he watches as you use your fingers to swipe and collect some of his cum, bringing it to your mouth. You hold eye contact with him, licking his cum off your fingers, humming at the taste of him. 

“Look so fuckin’ pretty covered in my cum” Rafe groans, “But your pussy would look better filled with it”. 

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @bunnycrush @drudyslut @xxbimbobunnyxx @rafesthroatbaby @nemesyaaa @ihe4rttwd @rylie-m @hallecarey1 @slumnit @strawberrydolly333 @chimindity @starkeyisthelastname @rafescurtainbangz @ijustwanttoreadlols @stoned-writer @redhead1180 @eddieslut69 @eternalbuckley @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @heartsforvin @sturnioloshacker @flvredcas @rafeinterlude @starkeysheart @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @fae-of-prey @amandabbbbb @rafecameroninterlude @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @zyafics @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @espressomunson

[puckinghischier]

Cart Girls & Curly Q’s

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke has a crush on the cart girl

notes: for once, i feel like i didn’t really struggle while writing luke. this probably isn’t one of my best works, but i loved the idea and i’m so glad i was able to try to bring it to life. hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.” with Luke and maybe a cart girl at the golf club close to the summer lake house?

[3k]

Most of your friends absolutely hate going to work in the summertime. They hate being stuck in an office or storefront all day, no chance to enjoy the high UV and prime lake hours.

You, however, never wake up dreading your work.

During the cold, Michigan winters, you work as a bartender at your college’s local bar. You attend your classes in the morning, do your homework in the afternoon, then clock into your shifts at night. You have the routine down to a science.

During the summers, though, you found a job as the cart girl at the uppity country club closest to the large community of expensive lake houses you drive by every morning.

The tips are amazing, and getting paid to drive around in the sunshine and watch attractive men play golf all day is what you call a small piece of paradise. Not to mention you’re off by five o’clock every day, allowing time to join your friends and family out on the boat for night swims and evening rides.

Today was especially good, with it being one of the hottest days of the summer, your sales were sky high.

You’ve already had to restock your beer cooler three times this morning, and it’s barely even noon.

Your boss has really been pushing the sale of liquor, so you inform every group you pass about your buy a double, get a single shot half off deal, but nothing calls to a man more than a cold beer on a hot golf course.

Many of the men you’ve served today have given you a tip simply because you’re out working in the heat, delivering beers ‘like an angel’ one middle aged man told you, handing you an extra ten.

You just laughed and told him thank you, pocketing the cash. You always loved weekend mornings, locals and vacationers alike all over the course, upping your sales, and as a result, your tips.

As you’re leaving the club house after yet another restock, you see a group of guys that you assumed were around your age.

They were being loud, but not obnoxious, as they piled into two carts and sped their way out to the course, eager to get their game started.

You wondered when you would see them, having been told not to bother people until they’re at least on hole two. Apparently, people get mad when you try to sell them alcohol in the middle of their first stroke.

Making your way around your normal path, you start at hole eight and work your way in a circle until you get back to the clubhouse, the later holes being your big money makers. People are either celebrating their lead or mourning their loss at that point, wanting a drink either way.

You sell a few shots, making your boss happy no doubt, but run out of beers for the fourth time that day around hole sixteen. You stop and offer to each group after that, selling a few more liquor items, but were mostly told to come back when you had beer again.

Flying down the cart path, you see the same group of guys from earlier around hole seven, one out of the group flagging you down as you speed by.

You slow your cart down to a stop and they walk over to meet you, grabbing their wallets from their carts as they approach you.

“Sorry, boys, out of beer. On my way back to the clubhouse now to restock if you want to wait a few,” you tell them once they’re within ear shot, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“Well, do you have anything you can sell us? I’m getting beat pretty bad out here and need a pick me up. Don’t really care what it is,” a brunette pleaded.

You tell him about the shot deals, and he hands you his I.D., requesting a double shot of crown and ginger-ale before turning and asking his cart buddy what he wanted.

“Jack, what do you want?” he calls over to a guy that looked similar to him, thinking to yourself that they could be brothers.

He explains the discount to the other brunette, saying he’s already paid, just to pick what he wanted.

After viewing the second player’s I.D., your brother theory is confirmed by their matching last name.

Jack, you learned, asked for a simple, funnily enough, Jack and coke.

“Alright, gentlemen, anything else I can do for you?” you ask, turning to face the last member of the group.

You make eye contact with a tall, curly-headed boy, noticing the pink tone of his cheeks when you catch him staring at you.

“Anything for you, curly Q?” you ask him, taking note of how attractive he was. You always play up the flirting a little when you find a player on the course attractive, figuring it’ll help your sales while simultaneously allowing you to have a little fun.

His cheeks turn an ever-deeper shade of red when he realizes you’re talking to him, freezing up and averting his eyes. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot, but you find his shyness endearing.

“Nah, Lukey here isn’t old enough, is he Quinny? Still got a few months till you can drink with the big bros. Isn’t that right, Luke?” the brunette named Jack slaps who you’ve now learned is Luke on the back.

You let out a chuckle, witnessing the deadly glare Luke shoots at his older brother.

“Don’t worry, they picked a cart girl that isn’t even old enough to drink, either. Won’t be able to drink the concoctions I make until next spring,” you tell him, hoping to alleviate a little of the embarrassment you caused him.

“Oh, wow,” is all he utters out, bringing out another laugh from you.

“Alright, well, I’ll let you boys get back to your game,” you tell them, walking back over to get back into your cart.

You ride off, thinking of the tall, curly brunette the whole time.

Three hours later, you’re tending the clubhouse bar.

When you came back in for restock, your boss told you it was too hot for you to keep your role as cart girl all day, insisting you switch out with one of your coworkers.

You weren’t too upset with the trade off, now in air conditioning but still getting tips from buzzed players after their game, either nursing their loss or celebrating their win.

The clubhouse gets busier as the day goes on, people dipping in for a quick cool off after playing eighteen holes in the heat.

“Hey, new body down on the end. Care to get it for me?” your co-tender, Brady, asks you, the two of you working in tandem.

You nod at him as you finish pouring the beer in your hand, walking down to the other end of the bar.

“Hey, player, what can I get for ya?” you ask the stranger, not looking up as you place a coaster in front of the patron.

“Just-Just a water, if you don’t mind,” he asks, slightly stumbling his words.

You look up to see the curly brunette, Luke, from earlier.

“Oh, it’s you. Curly Q,” you say, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice.

“Name’s Luke, actually,” he tells you, the redness from earlier returning to his cheeks.

“Yeah, I remember. Just think Curly Q fits you better,” you smirk at him, placing the glass full of water on his coaster. “I’m Y/N.”

He mumbles a small thanks, taking a sip from the glass.

“Anything else I can get for you?” you ask him, glancing down the bar to see if any new customers have sat down.

He stares at you, his eyes caught like a deer in headlights.

You wait patiently for an answer, letting out a small giggle when he just continues to stare at you.

“Alright, well I’ll let you think about your answer and be right back,” you laugh as you start to walk away.

“Wait!” Luke startles you, stopping you in your tracks. “Uhh..do you…come here often?” he stutters out, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Your eyes shine at him with amusement. “Well, I work here, so I think I’d have to say yes,” you respond, smiling.

Luke peeks one eye open at you, seeing your amused expression and sighing, letting his body sag.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I asked that,” he runs his hand through his curls nervously.

You rest your arms on the bar in front of you. “Ehh, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, scrunching your nose as you shake your head.

Luke gives you a nervous smile, sliding his water towards his body and running his finger around the rim of the glass.

“I’m sure you talk to all kinds of idiots like me when you’re serving drinks, huh?” he asks, making your face fall a bit at his defeated tone.

You stand a little straighter. “Nah, not really. Most of the idiots I talk to are just old and creepy, not my age and charming,” you tell him, finally earning a laugh from him.

His laugh was more of an amused scoff, but you already want to see the shy smile that makes its way onto his face afterwards, again.

“Yeah, cause a guy that asks you if you come to your job often is the epitome of charming,” he looks up at you.

“Well, it’s kept me here talking to you so far, hasn’t it?”

Luke blushes, making you think the man in front of you is unable to go two minutes without his face turning red.

“Yeah, I guess it has,” he casts his eyes towards his lap.

“So, Luke, you a local or here on vacation?” you ask him, glancing down at the quickly clearing stools. You know Brady is getting all of your tips right now, but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot.

“Well, a little bit of both. Technically on vacation because I live in New Jersey now, but my parents have owned a lake house here since I was a kid, so I claim the title of a local,” you finally get him to loosen up a little, his body language relaxing. “Plus I went to U of M for a little while, so I’ve spent quite a bit of time over in Ann Arbor.”

“Ahh, a city boy,” you tease, grabbing a glass to wipe down, making it look like you’re at least partially doing your job. “Why’d you leave Ann Arbor?”

“Got a…uh…job offer in Jersey,” he tells you cryptically, eyes darting around the room.

“‘A uh…job offer?’ What are you, in the mafia?” you ask him, mimicking his words and poking fun at his nervousness at telling you about his job.

“Well, not quite,” he starts, laughing a real laugh this time, causing you to mentally record the sound and store it in your brain. “I…ahhh…I play hockey up there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Like, professionally?”

He sinks back into his seat, looking like he wants to hide.

“Yeah. For the New Jersey Devils. My brother, Jack plays for them, too,” He tries to pass some of the attention off of himself.

“Wait, you and your brother both play in the NHL?” the impressed tone of your voice gives Luke a little boost of confidence.

“Well, both of my brothers, actually. But Quinn plays for the Canucks up in Vancouver. Jack and I are both in Jersey, though.”

You let your mouth hang open at him, not being able to hide your shock.

This earns another laugh from Luke.

“What kind of superhuman DNA do your parents possess?” you ask him.

“Not sure. We’re still being studied as we speak,” Luke leans closer, whispering like he’s telling you a secret. “The big wigs in the NHL haven’t found out yet that they grew us in test tubes in their basement.”

You let out a laugh so loud that you gain the attention of several men on the other end of the bar, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Luke leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face as he sees your embarrassed expression.

“Hey, Y/N, you gonna come help me do your job or what?” you hear Brady yell, annoyed that he’s been working the whole bar alone for the past ten minutes.

You roll your eyes while still facing Luke, removing your hand from your mouth and turning your head to respond. “Yeah, don’t get your club all bent, I’ll be right there.”

Luke’s still smiling at you when you turn back to face him.

“Guess that’s my cue to get back to my job and quit talking to cute boys sitting at the bar, huh?” you spew, realizing what you just said a second too late.

Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, his back straightening in surprise.

You pause all movements, staring at Luke.

“Uhh…anyways, gotta go do my job. Y’know, the thing I come around often for?” you make a call back to Luke’s attempt at a line earlier, hoping it take some of the attention off of what you just said.

Luke chuckles at you. “Yeah, I need to go meet back up with my fellow lab rats, anyways,” he tells you, reaching for his wallet, placing a twenty down on the bar.

“You do realize water is free, right?” you tell him, sliding the bill back to him.

“Yeah. Figured I’d try to make up for the tips I caused you to lose, though,” he shrugs his shoulders, standing from his chair.

“Nope, I’m not taking your money. Feels like you’re just paying me for talking to you,” you tell him, holding the money out towards him and shaking it around, trying to make him take it.

Luke shakes his head at your stubbornness. “C’mon, just take it. Your coworker collected all kinds of tips while you were over here.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, leaning over and grabbing Luke’s arm, placing the money in his hand.

“I need to do something, though. I feel bad causing you to lose out on money that should’ve been yours,” he insists.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you make it up to me,” you start, watching him try to lay the money down again and shooting your arm out, preventing him from doing so. “By giving me your number,” you decide to be bold.

Luke goes still. “Uhh, y-yeah. Sure,” he snaps out of his momentary freeze, fumbling for his phone, handing it over to you.

You put your number in his phone, sending yourself a text before handing it back with a wink.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Luke asks, pushing his stool in.

You nod your head yes, turning to go back to your job duties.

You turn back around after you take a few steps, seeing Luke walking away with his back turned.

“Hey, Curly Q!” you call after him, causing him to turn to look at you. “I get off at five, in case you were wondering,” you shout towards him, flashing a smirk before you walk away.

Luke smiles and shakes his head, making his way towards the other side of the clubhouse.

You watch his figure as he moves across the room, stopping to make small talk with a man, shaking his head before joining his brothers at a small table on the restaurant side of the clubhouse, picking up his menu and browsing the food selection.

You smile to yourself and go back to stacking glasses.

As you’re transferring a new stack of clean glasses to the cooler under the bar, you hear someone call your name from above you.

You stand, rattling off your typical greeting to the new customer.

“Someone named Luke asked me to give this to you,” he tells you, handing you the same twenty-dollar bill Luke had tried to hand you a few minutes prior.

You pick up the bill as the stranger walks away, looking down at it before raising your head and looking for the curly headed culprit.

You meet Luke’s eye, raising a brow at him while lifting the paper money, pointing at it.

Luke shrugs his shoulders and grins from across the room.

Months later, when you’re attending your first ever Devils game in support of your newly titled boyfriend, you watch him skate out on the ice for warm ups, making a bee-line to the seat he provided for you.

He looks at you in his Jersey, a sight he pictured from the moment he first saw you on the golf course last summer, wondering how he managed to impress the pretty cart girl he embarrassed himself with, what feels like so long ago.

Your smile took up your entire face as you waved at him, excited to finally see him play in person. He smiles back, pointing down to the ground, asking if you wanted a puck.

You nodded your head yes, watching him pick up a puck and take the cover off of a small cut out in the plexiglass separating the two of you.

When he slides the puck through the hand sized hole, you grab onto his glove, replacing the puck with a piece of paper before pushing his hand back towards him.

He looks down at his hand, confusion written all over his face. He opens his glove, looking down at his hand, his head snapping up to look at you once he realizes what you had done.

“There’s your tip, hot shot!” you shout at him through the glass, smiling in amusement, seeing the same twenty-dollar bill from the first day you met him resting in his red glove, never imagining that the nervous, bumbling boy sitting in front of you at the bar that day would make you feel like the luckiest girl in all of Michigan, and now New Jersey.

[charliemwrites]

Part 2!

Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.

Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)

Agatha is over again.

You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.

A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.

Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.

“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.

You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.

“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.

She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.

“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”

People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.

“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.

Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”

You blink. Men…?

A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)

Ah. Those men.

“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”

It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.

“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”

You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.

“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.

“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”

Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.

“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”

That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.

“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”

You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.

Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.

“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”

You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.

“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”

She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.

Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.

It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.

Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.

“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”

And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.

And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.

Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.

Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.

“So… the cookies were good then?”

“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.

“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“

“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.

Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)

“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.

You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”

He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”

Well shit.

“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”

Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”

It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.

There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.

Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.

You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.

Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.

You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.

“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.

He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.

“What happened?” he asks.

You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.

“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”

You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.

“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.

Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.

“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”

When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.

“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”

With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.

You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.

“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.

He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”

You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”

“Nein,” he snorts.

Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.

There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.

“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”

“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”

You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?

It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.

“Are you guys military?”

“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.

You perk up. “Wait, really?”

He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”

You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”

He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.

“Yes,” he answers slowly.

“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”

His eyes narrow. “Questions?”

You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”

Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.

He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”

You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”

He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.

“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”

“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.

You beam. “Thank you!”

He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.

“What else needs doing?”

Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.

Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.

You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.

Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.

You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi!!!! if you’re still writing for remus, i was wondering if u could write something like rem and reader being super close friends and they just realize they have feelings for each other in a not very dramatic way, just kind of like, i love this closeness and i want more of it way?

sorry if i’m not good at requesting english isn’t my first language!!!!

Your English is perfect babe! Don’t worry about that! I hope you enjoy this Remus x best friend!reader on their weekly sleepover with a sleepy love confession ᡣ𐭩

“Did you see that new realty show about the girls who make more than their husbands?”

You ask Remus as he hands you a cup of tea. You’re curled up on his sofa, feet tucked neatly under you as you scroll through tv programs.

“No I haven’t seen it. Did you start it yet, dove?”

Remus sits beside you, the bottoms of your feet pressed into his thighs.

“No, I started one episode and fell asleep.”

Remus laughs, “That’s not a good sell,” you smile sheepishly.

You and Remus do this every Saturday- meet at either of your houses for lunch that turns into dinner and dessert and sleeping over cuddled next to each other.

You both swear you’re not in love with each other to your friends, but as his hand falls to your ankle and tugs your feet into his lap, you know it’s not true.

In turn, Remus knows that you’re in love with each other by the way you look at him as his thumbs press into the arches of your foot and your foot stretches into his palm.

“It was going pretty well, I was just so knackered.” A yawn tears apart your words as if to prove your point.

Remus nods sagely, taking a sip of his tea to hide his smile.

“Start it up then dovey,” you click the first episode with a pleased look on your face.

“If I fall asleep here please wake me.”

Remus rolls his eyes and you scowl, “You hurt your back the last time.”

Remus scoffs, “I did not! It was just rained that night so my muscles hurt a little extra.”

“Well I don’t want them to hurt any extra tonight, Rem.”

He nods, but you’re suspicious.

Remus watches one episode all by himself because you barely make it past the 15 minute mark.

It’s no matter to him, because he gets the chance to really look at you and feel his heart galloping in his chest without feeling like his face will give his feelings away.

Your eyebrows as without a furrow, which is strange for your seemingly permanent semi-frown, your cheek smushed under your hand and your lips all the more pouty for it. God he wishes he could just give you a quick peck.

Instead, he busies himself with cleaning up- putting your mugs in the dishwasher, wiping his counters down and going to his room to unmake the bed a bit.

His touch is featherlight as it graces your cheek, “Bedtime, precious girl.”

His hands slip under you and you rouse, a bleariness that can only come about by waking from a deep sleep making Remus smile.

“You’re so stubborn.” Sleep eats through your words, like molasses dribbling off a spoon. Remus kisses your temple.

“You’re adorable,” he lays you down on your side of the bed and you look at him with much more severity for your play argument.

“I think I’m in love with you Remus.” The words escape you with no pretenses or fanfare- just the simple, love infused words.

Remus’ hands stutter where they’re pulling your favoured blanket over you.

He kneels down and you twist under the sheets to face him, his hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking all the creases there from your palm resting there.

“I know I’m in love with you too dove, but I’d like to take you out on a proper date tomorrow if you don’t mind.”

You smile wide and bright for a night only half illuminated by the moon, “I don’t mind in the slightest.” Remus’ smile mirrors your own. He spends a couple minutes stroking your face, your eyes fluttering shut heavily. “Would you come up here? Give your knees a break, Rem.”

He scoffs a laugh, “You’re so bossy.” His lips brush your cheeks and then your nose.

“Wait I want a real kiss first.” He laughs outright then. His lips parting to puff air on your face as he does.

“No wait for our date,” you whine and pout all with your eyes closed, it’s then and instantly Remus realises he’ll never be able to deny you because he coos and tilts your face towards him. “One kiss.”

You parrot, “One kiss.”

Remus’ lips press into yours softly, soft and not more than a peck but it satisfies you. His knees crack as he stands, slipping into his side of the bed before you can say anything.

You turn to face Remus, bodies pressed close. His hand drags up and down your back, settling you. “You’re spoilt rotten already and it’s only going to get worse.” He murmurs fondly as you fall asleep, his smile hard to tame.

[puppywilliams]

fuck halloween

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first ever posted smut so im lowkey rlly nervous to publish this but i wanna test the waters..heres some halloween smut.

warnings: semi drunk reader, dealer ellie, fingering r/receiving, oral r/receiving, car sex, halloween party, vampire ellie, pirate reader, use of the word “daddy”

you were tipsy. colors colliding together from the lighting of shitty LEDs some dickhead placed in the corridor to make the party seem less boring than what everyone knows it is. you weren’t there for the party, or even the worst booze in town shockingly (considering the fact you’re always down to drink). no-no. you were here for Ellie. your girlfriend who’s trying to make some quick cash from selling.

you still dressed up, and so did ellie. even though you secretly knew she did it just to make you happy.

you looked down at your attire, wrapped in a cheap spirit halloween pirate costume. ellie was somewhere in this place that seemed Far too big to be a house dressed as a vampire.

you wandered until the knee high boots you thrifted made the soles of your feet ache.

after a few minutes of searching you finally spotted her auburn hair and the weed in her hand she was exchanging for a wad of cash.

you let yourself wander some more until she finished. it was a Rule. Don’t intervene in a deal, she didn’t want you to be linked to whatever she was selling, it was too dangerous, she doesn’t Just sell weed.

when she was finished however, you trotted over. not missing the way her eyes lingered over you. she placed a hand to the side of your waist, thumb rubbing over you gently.

“hey..” she uttered in That voice. the voice that made you know without a doubt you were gonna be fucked silly tonight.

you decided it would be best to play the ‘ditsy drunk roll’ even though you Both knew you weren’t that drunk. ellie knows you, and she knows exactly what you drink When you drink. never lets you take a sip out of anything unless She clears it. its another rule, one you follow like the rest. they’re all in place to keep You safe.

you stall for a second before answering. “hiiii..” you drag out in a voice that screams ‘please for the love of god fuck me silly tonight’.

she gives you a toothy grin as a response and leans down to nip at your neck. when her glued in fangs don’t let her get much access, she goes for the safe route.

“you wanna get out of here, babygirl?” she says staring at your body, already drunk on the way your figure looks in the costume. you give her a simple pleading nod and thats all it takes for her to drag you away from everything and out to her truck.

you fully expect for her to take you home, lay you down, and make you beg for the strap, but she doesn’t. instead opening the car door of the back seat, the hinges to her old truck squealing. she signals for you to hop in and gives your ass a little pat as you crawl up into the seats you’re Too familiar with.

she follows after and shuts the door, immediately ripping the fangs out of her mouth and licking at her teeth. getting used to the feeling of her mouth now being completely empty, and more so preparing to fill it with nothing but You instead.

she kissed at your neck softly, you whimper a bit before shes biting down fully and causing you to let out a sharp gasp. its an accident truly, ellie was a kisser. maybe even one to suck on your neck a bit and give you a hickey. but Never a biter.

shockingly however it doesn’t seem to last long, as youre both already so worked up theres no point.

while she kisses down your chest, her hands are running down your thighs, lighting a fire that runs all the way to your core.

its like shes picking you apart piece by piece each time to make you fall apart, normally its by the slowness of it that ellie has a tendency to lean towards, but not tonight, because tonight she isn’t wasting a single minute.

you prove yourself right as she rushes to rip the center of your fishnets open, making a sound of each twiddle of woven fabric being torn apart. shes looking down and groaning as she rubs your cunt through your panties, shes making sure she uses her two fingers at a slow pace, up and down. you gasp when she reaches your clit each time. all she does is look at you with a shit eating grin. it makes you wanna kick her teeth in a little. a wet spot now nice and visible down the center of the lace she picked just for You.

you can see the way her eyes roll back a bit when she spots it. “fuck baby..so wet huh?” she asks softly, but all you can seem to do is nod quickly. shockingly, thats all she needs tonight. normally she would make you tell her Exactly what you wanted, slap you around a bit to get you going, but tonight she simply pushed your panties aside, sticking in two digits into your heat and groaning at the wetness.

ellie had recently gotten finger tattoos, you had found a new love in watching them disappear as she placed them inside of you. you pulled up your dress and groaned as you examined the scene before you. “fuck…” you said to yourself breathlessly. ellie shush’d you.

“i know baby..shh i know..”

she wasted no time curling her fingers and hitting that spot deep inside of you that made your belly churn. “yeah baby..take it..its okay take daddys fingers.” she breathed out and you moaned like a pornstar with the way her thumb rubbed at your enlarged clit and her fingers pushed in and out of your pussy with ease from your slick.

“all this? over what? two fingers? god id think youre a slut but youre too damn tight for that...shit..so fucking perfect just for me and my cock, shh baby i know…” she adds on as she hears your babbling whines.

she removes her fingers from your swollen cunt, instead deciding to lean her face down and start kitten licking at your clit while she holds your panties to the side. using her free hand she held onto you leg, keeping you nice and spread for her while her tongue grazed over the swollen button. licking a bit farther down to your entrance before sinking it into you and curling it upward.

she rotated between a pattern of tongue fucking and sucking on your clit and sinking in two fingers while swirling her tongue around it. no matter what she did you were Out Of It. moaning so damn loud people inside could probably hear and predict your orgasm, maybe not as good as ellie, but theyd have a clue. it didn’t take you long before you were all dumb on her fingers and wrapping your fingers in her hair whimpering “‘mgonnacumpleasefuckpleaseellieplease” when you fulfilled your promise ellie was quick to lick what was left over, pulling her fingers out and moving upwards to put them in your mouth. feeling you suck on them she grinned at you. “thats my good girl”

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[mrkis]

bad habits. (m.l)

pairing. mark lee x fem!reader genre. smut word count. 6.5k

❝you know you're my favourite.❞

content warnings. explicit content, toxic behaviour from reader and mark, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, indications of dealer!mark, manhandling, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, mean!mark, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie.

Don’t look at him. 

You mentally tell yourself as you tear your eyes away from Mark who enters the house party with a girl at his side, capturing a glimpse in your peripheral vision the way his hand rests at the bottom of her back as he leads her through the crowded room.

Stop looking at him.

You tell yourself again when your gaze inevitably draws back to him, find yourself staring at him from across the room, watching as he greets his friends with boyish handshakes and welcoming pats on the back before he settles down on the couch once they made room for him, the girl following closely behind and smoothly sliding her perfectly manicured hands on his thigh.

Stop.

Your tongue prods at your cheek in annoyance as you watch how close they lean into each other to speak, how his words seem to make her giggle and she tucks her hair behind her ears when he smiles at her, clearly enjoying his obvious flirtatious comments and your grip tightens around the cup you’ve been nursing the entire night, pulling your eyes away from the scene when his gaze finally meets yours.

The relationship you have with Mark is something you have never experienced before, but a relationship you weren’t too keen on letting go of anytime soon. Mark’s a friend; a friend who you sometimes rely on when things go south, a friend who picks you up in his car for late-night takeout runs and smoke weed until the sun rises, and a friend who you actively sleep with just to get rid of that dull ache between your thighs. 

You hate how he knows your body, sometimes even better than you know yourself. You hate how easy it is for him to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, igniting something within you that leaves you breathless and yearning for more. You hate how his touch leaves you desperate, craving for more than just his hands. You hate how his eyes alone can have you on your knees, the heavy weight of his cock resting on your tongue.

You can’t help but think that you have some sort of effect on him too, finding it amusing how easy it was to get him alone with you, to make him drop whatever he was doing just to be in your presence. It does, admittedly, bring you a lot of satisfaction in knowing that you may have some kind of hold over him like he does with you.

Although, there have been a handful of moments where he has ignored or rejected you, much like tonight.

You were the one that had invited him to come to this party when your best friend had first mentioned it.

You were the one that brought it up to him during an intimate encounter in the backseat of his car, asking him to accompany you only to be shut down and told that he wasn’t interested in some lame house party, and instead had something else planned for that night.

Before you even arrived at the party, you saw the Snapchat story posted by the girl who is currently clinging to his side like a leech. The image was blurry, but you could make out her holding two joints, with a caption thanking Mark and promising a fun night, while tagging his username. At first, you figured it was a deal, being aware that Mark sometimes sells his weed on the side for extra cash, but you never expected that the ‘something else’ he had planned would involve bringing her to a party he rejected coming to in the first place.

It honestly made you fucking pissed.

You mentally chastise yourself to get a grip and you scoff, tilting your head back and gulping down the rest of your drink, the alcohol searing your throat and momentarily distracting you from your own fiery emotions. You lower the cup, swiping the back of your hand at the corner of your lips, wiping away any lingering traces of liquid just as your best friend nears you with a drunken flush.

“Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Yunjin exclaims as she flings her arms around your shoulders for a hug, but her embrace falters as she notices the expression on your face. “What’s happened?”

“I’m out,” You say, gesturing towards your empty cup with a tight lipped smile, trying to hold yourself back from admitting—“Oh, and Mark’s here.”

“I thought he said no to coming?” Yunjin’s brows knit together in confusion and she glances over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Mark and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but her expression quickly shifts to one of exasperation as she rolls her eyes and directs her attention back to you. “Are we really surprised? Come on, you know exactly what he’s like!”

“I know.” You hate it.

“He’s always been like this!”

“I know.” You really hate it.

Yunjin takes a moment to stare at you before she sighs, arms crossing over her front, “Yet it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re thinking about him right now.”

She’s got you there. “I know…”

Yunjin firmly places her hands on your cheeks, gripping with enough force to have you stare straight into her eyes, “Forget about him. He’s just some guy you’re sleeping with occasionally, and you know what that means?” You blink in response. “It means you’re single and free to sleep with anyone you want! We’re here to have fun, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”

She’s right. Of course she’s right. Her words bring a genuine smile to your face and you nod in agreement, determined to not let something so silly ruin your night. 

Yunjin wastes no time when she leaves, quickly returning back to you with fresh drinks and tapping her cup against yours with a mischievous grin. You both take a few hearty sips, allowing the alcohol to course through your veins and lighten your mood, head buzzing as she slips her fingers through yours to tug you away from your current position.

You mingle with a few of her other friends you’re familiar with, diving deep in conversations, laughing at jokes shared among the group, throwing flirtatious comments here and there when someone shows clear interest in you.

But you weren’t interested in them. 

Not at all.

Not when you can still see Mark in your line of vision, who remains his position on the couch, engrossed in his own conversation with his friends and the girl who has yet to leave his side, seemingly unwilling to leave.

Your jaw locks tight when Mark occasionally meets your gaze, rubbing his palms on his thighs and shifting in his seat, manspreading as he relaxes back against the cushions. Your eyes narrow, fighting the urge to roll them when the girl beside him snuggles in closer, offering a smile that could make anyone swoon, but he’s not even looking at her now.

He’s fully looking at you.

Mark’s head tilts to the side, the corner of his lips lifting into a subtle smile, leaving you with a mix of conflicting emotions that makes your head spin. On one hand, there’s a part of you that wants to wipe that look off of his face, fueled by your annoyance and frustration. But on the other hand, there’s a part of you that can’t help but be drawn to that smile, wanting to bask in the attention and keep his gaze fixed on you and you only.

A bitter taste lingers on the tip of your tongue as Mark’s gaze is taken away from you, watching as he leans his head down to listen attentively to the girl who whispers in his ear, her fingertips resting against his jawline to keep him in close. A forced laugh escapes your lips, the sound tinged with bitterness and your tongue prods at the inside of your cheek.

You rip your attention away from the pair, redirecting your focus to Yunjin who looks at you with a confused expression, clearly bewildered by your sudden laughter and you try to shake off that ugly feeling that has settled within you, offering her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and Yunjin spots that immediately. 

She calls out your name softly, wanting to question your odd behaviour but her words come to a halt when the guy beside you grabs the attention of the group. Was it Dohyun? Dowon? You can’t remember, and frankly you don’t really care enough to remember. But you remain quiet as he speaks, asking if anyone knows where he can purchase weed at the party, if there is anyone who knows who he can buy from as he assures that he has the cash.

Mark. The name flickers in your mind almost instantly and you meet Yunjin’s gaze, watching as she subtly shakes her head at you, knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“I know someone,” You announce and Yunjin’s shoulders sag as she sighs deeply. You ignore her reaction as you extend your hand towards the guy, “Give me the money. I’ll go get it.”

“Are you sure?” He asks in surprise, hesitating for a moment despite already having the bills ready in the palm of his hand. “I don’t mind getting it—”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off abruptly, curling your fingers around the bills to take into your own hands. You turn on your heels, making a beeline directly towards Mark as you slip through the crowd, pushing through the bodies with determination and fire coursing through your veins, fingers grasping the money tighter just as you get closer, eyes locked in on Mark as he watches you near.

As you stand in front of him, your gaze involuntarily shifts to the girl by his side, tongue clicking against your teeth with bitterness tinging your thoughts as you observe her shuffling closer. Her hand is now resting on Mark’s bicep, fingers sinking into the fabric of his hoodie. 

The sight alone stirs a mixture of annoyance, frustration and jealousy in the pit of your stomach and in the moment, you find yourself in an internal struggle to either make some snarky or bitchy comment in hopes to get Mark to understand how pissed off you truly are, or to continue with what you were originally here for.

“Pre-rolls.” Is what you say with a monotone and direct voice, deciding to get straight to the point, extending your hand as you show Mark the money, making your intention clear.

Mark’s eyes briefly lower to the money before returning to meet yours, “For you or for someone else?”

“Does it matter?” You reply back sharply. “Pre-rolled joints, please.”

“For someone else then,” You hear Mark mutter beneath his breath as he digs inside the pocket of his pants to pull out exactly what you needed, but he’s quick to pull it out of reach as you go to snatch it from his grasp. Your frustration grows within you as you glare at him, but he takes no notice of your expression as he asks, “Are you smoking too?”

“Obviously.”

You watch as Mark reaches back into his pocket and your demeanour shifts slightly as he pulls out another batch of pre-rolls, ones you’re all too familiar with as you see the pink coloured skins. He knows you prefer spliffs over joints. You want to continue being annoyed and angry with how he knows you all too well but yet, deep down, your heart can’t help but thump wildly in your chest and a flutter of warmth swirls in the pit of your stomach at the seemingly thoughtful gesture.

You bite down on your tongue, not wanting to let him know how much that simple action affected you so much, “I don’t have enough money for two.”

“You don’t pay for yours anyways.” Mark states matter-of-factly as he takes the money for one pre-roll and hands you the two. It’s true, you think, curling your fingers around the two pre-rolls he has given you. You’ve never paid him when asking for a smoke, he doesn’t let you pay him.

“You giving out freebies?” The girl beside him speaks up for the first time, her tone playful as she decides to jump in on the conversation. She nudges Mark’s shoulder as she teases, “Pink skins too? How come I don’t get that treatment?”

“Because I’m his favourite,” You find yourself replying before your brain could register it, sending her a forced tight lipped smile as she looks up at you in surprise, not expecting you to be the one to respond. But you couldn’t care less. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“I was talking more about the pink skins,” She snips back at you and your tongue prods at your cheek once again, fighting off the urge to laugh as she turns to look at Mark as she smiles. “I like pink.”

“They’re for her.” Mark says as he gestures towards you with a nod of his head. The girl’s face drops, her smile completely fading and a sense of satisfaction washes over you. You offer her a sweet, sickly smile in return before leaving the scene, heading straight back to your group who are patiently waiting for you to come back. 

Yunjin comes to stand beside you as you hand the joint over to Dowon (you managed to overhear his name as you were nearing closer to the group.) and he grins in victory, thanking you with a wet, dramatic smooch to your cheek before lighting it up, taking a drag and passing it around the group.

Yunjin leans her head down, disappointment clear in her tone as she speaks to you in hushed whispers, ridiculing you for suggesting Mark in the first place, but her tone soon shifts to curiosity and wonder, wanting to know what happened between you and Mark, and what you both had spoken about.

You were partially honest with your answer, replying that the only topic of conversation was about the deal and you were able to get exactly what you wanted and more as you showed her your own little gift. She grins, bumping her shoulder to yours proudly before jumping in conversation with the others, taking the joint out of another's hand while you tuck yours away in your purse, saving it for later.

You had enough. 

The irritation you felt becomes unbearable, unable to be masked by the alcohol coursing through your veins.

The sight of Mark and the girl still in the same position on the couch; sitting close, sharing whispers and smiles. It gnaws at you despite your failed attempts to bury them with distractions, dancing with others, kissing others with lingering touches.

You’ve reached your breaking point. 

You wish you were drunk enough to ignore everything and continue on with the night, but unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case. 

You wanted to leave. 

Most importantly, you wanted to leave with him.

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. It would certainly be easier to leave without him or even find someone else to go home with—Yunjin or some random stranger. But honestly, you couldn’t care less about the easy options. You never cared. 

Abandoning your half-empty cup without a second thought, you leave Yunjin behind, not even bothering to fill her in on what you’re about to do. The sound of her questioning fades into the background as you make your way towards the living room area with a determined stride. 

As you approach closer, a sense of tunnel vision takes over; everything else seems to fade into the background too, sounds becoming distant whispers or muted, completely overshadowed by your own thoughts and emotions.

You begin to second guess how this upcoming conversation would go, if Mark would actually leave with you this time if you asked. After all, he said no to coming here with you, so why would he agree to leave with you? 

You internally scowl at yourself for even thinking about something so negatively. 

He’s wrapped around your finger just as much as you’re wrapped around his.

“I’m leaving,” You declare as soon as you stand in front of Mark, not even giving him enough time to react to your sudden appearance. He remains unbothered, his gaze meeting yours as he lifts a soda can to his lips. His eyebrow raises in response and without missing a beat, you continue, “Come home with me.”

The girl sitting beside Mark reacts with utter disbelief, her mouth dropping open as she scoffs at your audacity, eyebrows knitting together at your words but you’re unfazed by her reaction. It doesn’t make you feel bad at all, not as your focus remains on Mark, waiting for his response.

And in that moment, you feel a sense of victory and satisfaction swell in your chest when Mark gives a simple nod of his head and rises from the couch, reaching in his pocket for his car keys as he bids his friends a goodbye.

“Wait!” The girl exclaims as she interrupts, tone filled with desperation and her hand shoots out, gripping Mark’s upper arm tightly, halting his movements. Her eyes shift towards you at first, giving you a harsh look before turning her attention back to Mark, “Are you serious right now? You were my ride here. How am I supposed to get home?”

You hold yourself back, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from responding, though your annoyance is clearly visible on your face. You keep silent, watching as Mark’s face remains impassive, retrieving his car keys from his pocket.

“That’s not my problem,” He states bluntly, removing her grip from his arm without hesitation, words devoid of any sympathy. “You’ll figure it out.”

The girl’s jaw drops even further, shocked at Mark’s sudden change in attitude and tone. A smug grin finds its way onto your lips, unable to contain that satisfaction bubbling within you and you wave your fingers in her direction as Mark’s arm finds its way around your waist, resting his hand on your hip as he leads you out of the area.

As you’re leaving the building, Yunjin’s disappointed gaze lingers on you, but still mouths for you to be careful and gestures for you to call her when you get home. You nod in acknowledgement, blowing her a kiss before turning away and leaving her behind.

The cold air brushes against your burning skin, but your mind is preoccupied with a whirlwind of angry thoughts and unanswered questions, the scowl is clear on your face. Mark leads the way, guiding you towards his parked car in silence.

It’s deafening and you hate it, intensifying the frustrations that simmer within you. You’re getting angrier.

You climb into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut with enough force it rattles the car. Mark, who seems completely oblivious to your anger or just isn’t taking any notice, takes his place in the driver's seat, and his ongoing silence fuels your irritation even more.

Without sparing you a glance, Mark inserts the key into the ignition and twists it, setting the car’s engine rumbling to life. His attention is on the dashboard as he presses a few buttons to turn on the radio, playing a song you’re all too familiar with but not in the mood to vibe along with like you usually would.

Your frustration grows further when Mark casually drapes one arm around the back of your seat, focussing behind the vehicle as he reverses and then pulls out of the parking space, the car gradually gaining momentum as it merges onto the road. 

Setting back into your seat, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your gaze alternates between the side of Mark’s face and the road ahead. You’re aware that it would be best to stay quiet and allow yourself to calm down before questioning him, yet the curiosity mixed with annoyance within you refused to be silenced. You bite down on your tongue hard. 

You can’t. 

“Thought you weren’t coming tonight,” You finally speak, unable to hold back your words. The bitterness seeps into your voice as you continue, “I thought you weren’t interested in ‘some lame house party’.”

Mark’s response comes with a nonchalant tone that irks you, “I’m not,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I had things planned, but plans changed.”

“So you decided to come to the party, which I invited you to, with a girl?” You question, unable to hide the tinge of jealousy in your voice.

Mark glances at you briefly, a smirk playing on his lips. His audacity strikes a nerve and you release a dry laugh, your tongue prodding at your cheek in disbelief.

“Sora was one of the people that I was dealing with tonight,” Mark explains, his words casual. “Donghyuck texted me while I was at her house that he was at this party and wanted to buy weed. I told him I’d drop by and give him some.”

Sora. Her name makes your face scrunch up in displeasure. “Right. Then you somehow ended up coming to the party with Sora and stayed for the majority of the night.”

Mark grins, teeth biting down on his bottom lip, “She was actually planning to go to the party after she saw me. But once she found out that I was heading there, she asked if she could ride with me. I drove her, and when I realised Donghyuck wasn’t outside, I was going to leave. Then Sora said she’d help me find him inside, so I went in.”

You mutter under your breath, the words escaping in a frustrated whisper, “Still doesn’t explain why you stayed.”

“I got caught up with friends,” Mark responds simply, his hand reaching over the centre console to rest on top of your thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath his fingers. His touch attempts to sooth you, his voice softening. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” You lie through your teeth. “Just wish you would’ve at least told me you were coming or came up and said hello when you arrived.”

“I’m sorry,” His apology is minimal, but his tone sounds sincere as his thumb draws circles on your skin. ”Like I said, I wasn’t planning on staying.” Mark takes a quick glance over at you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “You’re wearing that dress I like, baby… walking up to you and saying hello wouldn’t be the first thing I’d do.”

You hum at that, twisting in your seat to face him, “And what would you do?”

“The same thing I did the last time I saw you at a party.” 

The low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine and your thighs squeeze together to relieve that sudden ache in your cunt, vividly remembering that night where he tugged you upstairs and fucked you in someones bathroom, not caring that the mirror rattled against the walls and belongings of all sorts had fallen off the counter, creating a mess on the floor that neither of you bothered to clean up when leaving. 

“I don’t remember,” You lie, giving him a glossy smile. “I think you have to remind me.”

Mark looks out into the open road, “Do you see a bathroom anywhere?”

“Funny,” You roll your eyes, but you lean over to brush your fingers over his crotch. “You can just remind me here—”

“We’re not fucking in my car,” His words make your eyebrows raise in shock, your mouth ajar as you scoff before ripping your hand away. Mark smiles, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Last time we were in here, you ruined my seats. The shit cost too much to clean, baby.”

You’re bitter as you reply, “You didn’t seem to complain before when you were desperate to make me cum over and over again.”

Mark’s laughter fills the car, his tongue clicking against his teeth as he shakes your head at your bitter attitude. The sound gets on your nerves immensely. You scoff, your arms crossing tightly over your chest, and you direct your gaze out the window, intentionally ignoring him for the rest of the journey.

As the car turns onto your street and your home comes into view, you reach for the seatbelt. Once Mark parks the car outside your house, you swiftly unbuckle and slip out of the car, slamming the passenger door shut with a force that rattles it. The sound of Mark’s laughter only further irritates you.

With your house key in hand, you unlock the door and step inside, feeling Mark’s presence behind you. His warmth brushes against your back, but you refuse to acknowledge it, striding towards your room. Standing in front of your vanity table, you remove your sparkly earrings, your focus solely on the task at hand as you chew your inner cheek with a scowl.

“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me now,” Mark drawls, his voice reaching your ears. You raise your head to meet his gaze in the mirror’s reflection. He leans against the door frame, a smirk playing on his lips, despite the feigned upset tone in his voice. He continues, “You told me to come home with you, and now you’re giving me this treatment? All because I wouldn’t fuck you in my car? You’re cold, baby.”

You huff quietly, even though you know deep down that Mark’s words hold some truth. You continue to stay quiet, unclasping the necklace from around your neck and placing it back in its designated spot.

Mark’s tongue pokes at his cheek as he continues, “I could’ve just stayed with Sora—”

You immediately bristle, and you whirl around to face him. “You’re not funny.”

Mark’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling. “Got you to finally talk to me, though.”

You let out a forced laugh, your hands planted firmly on your hips as you stare at Mark. “You know what? You can go. I don’t care. Go. Go back to the party and spend the rest of your night with Sora.”

“Hey,” Mark’s response is immediate as he moves towards you, standing right in front of you. His fingers reach up to grasp your jaw, the cool sensation of his rings against your warm skin. He playfully shakes your head, and a part of you wants to push him away, but you remain still, unable to resist him. “Enough, a’ight? You know I’d rather be here with you anyways.”

And you do. Deep down, you know that. But you love pushing his buttons, especially with the thrill it gives you.

Pressing further, you challenge him. “Do I really?”

Mark’s voice hums with confidence. “Of course you do. You know you’re my favourite.”

You blink, “So there are others?”

Mark sucks in a breath, his grip of your jaw tightening as a playful warning. You can’t help but grin, pleased in your ability to get under his skin so easily. “Pain in my ass, I swear.”

A giggle escapes your lips as your arms wrap around his shoulders, and his hand releases your jaw, sliding down to rest at the base of your spine. His fingers put gentle pressure, urging you closer, and you willingly comply as you allow your chest to press against his.

Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of Mark’s neck, the grin on your lips unyielding as you continue to taunt him. “Pain in your ass, yet you still can’t get enough of me,” You then feign surprise. “Don’t tell me you like me, Mark?”

“Yeah, yeah, you wish.” Mark mutters dismissively, his head dipping down as he crushes his lips against yours in a heated kiss, sending a surge of electricity through your veins. You respond eagerly without a moment of hesitation, matching his fervour, your lips moving in perfect sync.

Mark’s hand glides up from your lower spine to firmly grip the back of your neck, keeping you pressed against him. The sensation of his touch sends shivers down your spine, and you fist the material of his hoodie in your grasp, ensuring that he stays close to you. 

As the kiss deepens, you feel a gentle nip of his teeth on your bottom lip, causing you to gasp at the pinch. Your lips part, giving him an invitation for his tongue to slip inside your mouth. The taste of him, the mingling of your breath, it’s intoxicating to you, and you want more.

The force of his kisses pushing your back against your vanity table, the impact causing a few of your belongings to clatter to the ground. But you pay no mind, your focus is solely on Mark who stands between your parted thighs, his hands sliding beneath the bottom of your dress.

“Lift your hips a lil f’me.” Mark orders you, and you listen. With his fingers that hook under the band of your panties, he pulls them down in one swift movement, discarding the material carelessly to the side before his arm hooks around your back. 

You yelp in surprise as he effortlessly lifts you up from the vanity table, and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips to make sure you don’t fall, but it doesn’t matter when Mark drops you on the bed with a bounce.

Before you can fully register what happened, Mark’s hands curl around your ankle and he tugs you to the edge of the bed, and you watch with parted lips as his hand moves between your thighs to drag his middle finger through your slit.

“You’re fucking soaked…” Mark hums as he lowers himself down, gazing up at you from your parted thighs. A silent gasp leaves your lips as his two fingers sink into your tight, wet heat. “You had so much to say earlier, and now you’re quiet. Feels too good?”

“Just shut up.” You bite back, and a smile breaks out onto Mark’s face, sending you a wink before he leans down and swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, plunging his fingers into your cunt at a steady rhythm. 

Airy moans leave you as you try to watch Mark, but his free hand slowly creeps up your body and pushes down at your chest, making you fall back against the mattress with a huff. You’re reminded of the dress that’s still clinging to your body, making you regret not taking it off sooner, but all of your worries and problems are pushed to the side when you feel Mark’s drape your legs over his shoulders, closing him in.

“Fu—ah,” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your back arches off the bed. You’re unable to use your words, lost in the feeling of Mark sucking at your clit and his fingers curling in your spongy walls, brushing over that spot that has your thighs tightening around his head. 

One hand grips the bedsheets, and your other lands on top of his hair, threading your fingers through the overgrown strands and you tug, eliciting a groan from his chest. You’re grinding your pussy against his face, desperate for more, and he doesn’t seem to mind, allowing you to use him as you please. 

Until your legs soon fall from his shoulders when Mark forces them apart, spreading you out in front of him when he feels your climax approaching, and he leans back as he watches his fingers pump into you. The speed in which his fingers move has your legs closing around his hand, and his tongue clicks against his teeth in a sound of disapproval.

“Keep them open,” Mark warns you, and when you fail to listen, his fingers slow down, causing you to glare at him. “Don’t look at me like that. What did I just say?” Your legs part, and Mark nods his head. “That’s right…” 

He picks up speed, and he drives his fingers inside your cunt, a grin playing on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on yours, staring down at your face as he leans over you. You gasp when his thumb rubs your clit for stimulation, and you immediately cum.

The squelching sound of your wetness is heard throughout the room along with your wailing, your body shakes and walls contract around his fingers. He’s laughing as he fingers you through your orgasm, watching as your body trembles and your hips rut against his hand.

You cry out in pleasure, your body shaking and your brain fuzzy as Mark fingers you through your high, and laughs as he watches you tremble, your hips rutting against his hand before you slump back, trying to catch your breath.

Mark removes his fingers from your sensitive cunt, and you watch through hazed vision as he sucks them clean. The sight alone is enough to have a surge of energy rush through your veins, and you sit up to pull him into a kiss. Mark groans when your tongue slides into his mouth, and when he kneels in between your thighs, he takes hold of your wrist and guides your hands towards his belt.

You immediately know what he wants you to do, and you comply. You unbuckle his belt hastily through hungry kisses, and make quick work of the button and zipper, tugging the material down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxers.

Usually, you would’ve completely rid him of his clothes and yourself. But on this specific night, you were too desperate to have him to go through with the task, and Mark seems to be feeling the same when he suddenly throws you around. 

You huff as the air is knocked out of your lungs when you’re flipped onto your tummy, and you turn your head to the side, cheek mushed against your pillow as you watch Mark through your lashes. He’s fisting his cock, tip leaky and red, spreading his precum around the base. He taps his cock on your puffy folds and you squirm, an irritated whine leaving your lips to which Mark smirks at.

You grit through your teeth, “Hurry up.”

“Just admiring the view,” Mark cheekily replies, giving you a wink before his cock nudges between your folds. “Breathe.” He instructs you.

You bite back the remark that’s resting on the tip of your tongue, and you inhale deeply, only to let out a drawn out moan when Mark pushes himself inside, the familiarity of him stretching out your cunt making your toes curl and fingers grip the bed sheets.

Once he’s fully seated inside your warmth, buried in you to the hilt, you feel his ringed hands slide up your spine beneath your dress, his blunt fingernails pressing into your skin as he drags his hand back down before gripping your hips, keeping you still as he begins to thrust.

“So wet ‘n tight for me, baby…” Mark grunts, pinching your hips. He lays a firm slap on your ass, “So good f’me. Always so good.”

He repeatedly pumps in and out of you, gradually picking up his speed, and you find yourself moaning with each deep thrust of his hips. You fuck yourself back onto his cock when you feel his grip loosen on you, and your volume increases, mewling at the feeling of Mark’s cock fucking you so deep that it makes your head feels fuzzy.

You pant, “I wan’ more.”

“More?” Mark repeats with a chuckle, and his lips curl into a grin as he watches your ass bounce back on his cock. “I’m already deep inside your guts, what more could you want?”

You give him a dark glare in warning, “Mark—”

“You already cum once too,” Mark tsks, and you feel his hand slip around your waist to slot between your thighs. You shiver when you feel the pads of his ringed fingers brush over your puffy clit, “Fucking greedy, aren’t you? You take, take, take…” 

You gasp as his fingers start rubbing slow circles, and your pussy clamps around his cock. “Ah!”

“Good thing I’ll always give you what you want, right?”

Your mouth hangs open, and your eyebrows knit together from the stimulation of Mark’s cock fucking into you and rubbing your clit, the pleasure building. He’s grunting loudly behind you, his free hand giving harsh taps to your ass and soothing over the sore area.

It surprises you slightly when Mark’s hips slows down for a moment as he bends over you to press a wet smooch to your cheek, but you crane your neck awkwardly to capture his lips in a kiss, only lasting a few moments before he straightens and resumes his pace. 

“Gonna cum for me, sweet thing?” Mark asks when he feels the walls of your cunt flutter around him, knowing all too well. You nod your head quickly, and Mark smiles as he pinches your clit, eliciting a squeal from you. “Wait.”

You gape at him, “Wai—you’re joking?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“I can’t wait!” You bristle, shaking your head quickly, already feeling the pleasure build up in your tummy.

All Mark does is laugh at you, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he mutters about you always getting what you want, and you go to snap back to defend yourself, but the words fail to come out of your mouth when you feel his cock swell inside of your cunt, and with one harsh thrust of his hips, you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name.

He curses under his breath, trying his best to keep the momentum as he pushes further into your tightening walls, only for his orgasm to hit harshly. He’s hips jerk, his cock pumping you full of cum, and he’s breathing heavily as his hands rub your sides.

You’re sweaty and sticky, immediately regretting not taking off your dress the second he had you against the vanity table earlier. You grunt at the ache in your hips and lower back as Mark pulls his cock out of you, and you slump to the bed with a huff, allowing your body to relax while muttering quiet complaints.  

Mark chuckles at your antics, and he reaches out, pressing his fingers into your lower back to massage you and you grin happily, melting at his touch. 

“Spoilt,” Mark states, and you lift your hand to give him the middle finger in retaliation. Mark grins and continues his ministrations for a few more minutes before he lets you go, causing you to jut your bottom lip out into a pout as you turn to look at him. “Easy, girl. You need to go pee, and then we’re gonna go shower. Get you cleaned up.”

A smirk makes its way onto your face as you tease, “How chivalrous.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He waves dismissively at you, and he stands up from your bed. He offers a hand out to you and you take it, feeling his fingers clasp around yours as he pulls you up, and he wraps a steady arm around your waist as your feet touch the ground. “I still got some weed leftover from the party, I’ll roll when we’re done. Pink skins for the princess, right?”

Feeling smug and confident, you raise your head high. “Right.”

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

[ifwebefriends]

My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]

ID in ALT

More thoughts under the cut

So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.

This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.

Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:

The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.

When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.

So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.

I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.

The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.

I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.

I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.

So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.

I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.

On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.

So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Do Me a Favor?

Find part two here!

Eddie x fem!shy!bestie!reader

Summary: you buy some weed from your best friend Eddie and after shotgunning from him, you both find yourselves wanting more

word count: 6k

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, oral (f receiving)

The cold air nipped at your skin as you knocked on the trailer door. You tightened your cardigan around you as waited for someone to answer, wondering what the hell you had been doing there. You didn’t smoke weed. You didn’t buy it either, but maybe you just wanted to see the cute metalhead who was supposedly the best dealer in town, even though he was one of your closest friends and let you come over whenever you wanted.

You had been friends with Eddie Munson since that one time he helped you pick the books that you had dropped when someone had bumped into you in the hallway in the tenth grade. He had grabbed your copy of Lord of the Rings and the two of you yapped about it all the way to the cafeteria where he let you sit with his group.

After letting you sit with him every day, he eventually asked you to join Hellfire Club and you happily agreed. Not long after, the two of you found yourselves hanging out outside of the club, occasionally getting dinner or watching a movie at your house.

Over time, you started to develop romantic feelings because how could you not have? Eddie was just so sweet and caring and he looked out for you like no one else did. And maybe it was silly to crush on your best friend, but you couldn’t help it. Aside from his charming personality, he also happened to be very easy on the eyes.

The door opened, pulling you out of your thoughts and there Eddie was on the other side, looking like something out of your dreams in his cropped band t-shirt and sweatpants that he had rolled down a few times, giving you a great view of the patch of hair that was right under his belly button.

“Y/n?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He hadn’t been expecting you, but couldn’t help but feel intrigued to know why you were there.

“Hi, Eddie,” you nodded at him, not quite able to look him in the eye. You had hyped yourself up on the way there, but now that he was actually standing in front of you, you were feeling shy.

“What are you doing here?” He scratched the back of his head, causing his shirt to ride up even more and your mind suddenly went blank. “Thought you had to work.”

“I just got off and I um-I was wondering if I could buy some weed from you.” Eddie laughed at that. He always saw you as an innocent little thing who did everything she was supposed to. A goody-two-shoes that never broke the rules.

“Well,” he let out a chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Though, he kind of liked the idea of selling weed to you. Not only was it a funny thought, imagining you actually smoking the stuff, but it seemed like you were on edge every time he saw you and he thought you could use something to calm you down.

“We’re not in high school anymore. I’ve changed.” There was a little truth to your statement, but not much. The only thing that had changed about you since high school was that maybe you had a little more confidence and that you had finally gotten your braces off. Other than that, you were pretty much the same.

“So you have,” he nodded. “Well, why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you what I’ve got?” He held the door open for you as you stepped inside, letting it slam behind you. You looked around the place, loving how cozy it felt, especially since you were no longer in the cold weather. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms as you stepped further inside, trying to bring some more warmth to your body. You should have known that it was going to be a bad idea riding your bike across town without a jacket, but the damage was already done.

“The stuff’s in my room if you want to follow me.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice how quiet you were, but he had to admit that he thought it was cute. He knew that that was just who you were, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was making you feel nervous. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into taking the weed if you really didn’t want it. He didn’t know why he cared so much, it was just a normal sale.

Except it wasn’t. You were his best friend and had no experience with drugs whatsoever. He wanted to know why you had a sudden interest, but didn’t feel like it was his business to ask, no matter how close the two of you were.

Eddie had always thought you were pretty, but also thought that you were out of his league. He was the town freak and you were the shy girl who always had her nose in a book. He didn’t think that the two of you were exactly a great match. He didn’t want anyone starting rumors about you too, so he let you slip through his fingers. He decided that he was already risking enough by being friends with you.

But now there you were, standing in the doorway of his room, somehow having gotten prettier since he had seen you a few days ago. You were avoiding his eye contact, staring at the desk that was behind him. You were eyeing the stack of books that were sitting on top of it, wondering what they were, noticing that they were different than the ones that had been there before.

You slowly stepped further into the room, making a beeline for the stack, noticing that they were all new books. You slowly looked at all the covers, most of them being ones you had never heard of, but you were interested in every single one as soon as you read the back. Your face lit up at the book that was on the very bottom. It was your current favorite fantasy novel that you had read more times than you had cared to admit, but you had lost your copy and hadn’t been able to get a new one. You opened the book and let out a gasp at the little signature on the first page, wondering if he had bought it like that or if there was a signing that you didn’t know about.

Eddie watched you, still finding the way that you mumbled to words that were printed on the books to yourself adorable. For a second, he had completely forgotten why you were there. For a second, he had been convinced that you were there to hang out with him like usual.

“I can’t believe you have a signed copy of this.” You turned to face him, showing him the signature. He just let out a chuckle at that, finding you even more adorable. He didn’t think he had ever seen you so animated in the years that he had known you. “How did I not know this?”

“Oh, yeah, I got it a couple weeks ago,” he shrugged. “I honestly forgot that I had it.” The thing had been sitting on his desk since after the signing and he really had forgotten about it, his obsession with it being completely abandoned for another. “You can…keep it if you want.” Your eyes lit up at his suggestion but you quickly slumped your shoulders.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t take it from you.” You set the book back on the desk, knowing that you would have felt bad taking something like that from him. Even though it looked like it hadn’t been touched in a while, you could tell that it meant something to him.

“No,” he shook his head, moving towards you. He took the book and shoved it into your hands, his touching yours as he did so. “Take it, l/n. Please. It’s just been collecting dust here and a thing like that deserves to go to a good home.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes bored into yours to show you how serious he was and you couldn’t help but stare into them. They were hypnotizing, so brown and pretty. You had always been a sucker for brown eyes, especially Eddie’s. You knew that you’d do anything he asked just by looking into them, and you were sure that if he knew that fact, he would have gotten you into trouble.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His hands were still on yours and you were so aware of his touch, loving how soft but rough his skin was. You could feel the cold metal that was his rings against your fingers that was mixed with the warmness of his hands. You just wanted to take them into your own, interlacing your fingers with his.

Eddie took the book from your hands and removed one of the straps of your tote bag from your shoulder and let the book fall inside before putting the strap right back. A smirk kicked up at the corner of his lips and you stared at them, thinking about how kissable they looked. They were so pink and plump and you just wanted to know what they felt like slotted between yours.

“Just so you don’t think about leaving it here,” he winked then turned on his heel to head to his bedside table. He pulled out a tin lunchbox from the bottom shelf and set it on the bed before opening it. He rifled through it, pulling out multiple plastic bags, trying to remember if he even had anything for a beginner. Most of the stuff he had was for people with a much higher tolerance and he didn’t want to start you on something you couldn’t handle.

Eddie found just what he was looking for at the bottom of the lunchbox and held it up to the light just to make sure, then nodded. He then closed the lunchbox and put it back where he found it and sat down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him. You hesitantly sat down next to him, so close to the other end that if you sat any farther away from him, you’d fall to the floor.

Your heart was racing in your chest. You weren’t even going to smoke the stuff, you just wanted to be able to say that you bought some. Once you got home, you had every intention of throwing it into a drawer, never to be touched again. You just were afraid of what it would do to you so you definitely weren’t going to smoke it alone. That was just too scary. Maybe if you had more confidence, you could have asked him to smoke it with you.

“How much?” You asked, reaching for the money you had in your pocket and Eddie just shook his head.

“No need, l/n,” he rested his hand on top of yours to stop you. “First one’s always free,” he winked and your cheeks flushed.

“Could you do me a favor?” You asked, not even thinking about the words that were coming out of your mouth. Eddie titled his head to the side, wondering what you could have possibly wanted him to do for you.

“Anything,” he nodded quickly, ready to do whatever you asked, no matter how weird or ridiculous. “You know that.”

“Would you…want to smoke with me?” That was the last thing he was expecting to ask. He didn’t think that you ever want to get high with him.

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. He hoped you couldn’t hear how hard his heart was beating his chest as he suddenly felt nervous about the whole thing. “You really want to?” He just wanted to be sure before he started anything.

“Please.” The words came out more desperate than you had intended, but you didn’t even care. You were just happy that he said the words you had been afraid to. Now you didn’t have to worry. He'd be right there to help you if something went wrong and you were sure that he wouldn’t judge if you did something that wasn’t right.

“Alright, well, I’m just gonna roll this up, okay?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at his desk as he held up the baggie with his other hand. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as Eddie gave you a reassuring smile, standing from his bed.

You just nodded in response and he pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk, getting to work. You stayed on the bed, not wanting to get into his space, just letting him do whatever he needed to. You sat patiently, trying not to think too much about what you were doing or you were going to back out. You only got one chance to smoke with your crush and you were going to take it.

Once Eddie had the joint all rolled up, he turned in his chair to face you then made his way back to the bed, sitting down on it hesitantly. Your comfort was his top priority and he was fully prepared to stop everything if you didn’t want to continue.He turned to face you, giving you his full attention. He had never smoked with a first-timer, but he still knew exactly what to do. He wanted to give you options, letting you have full control of the situation.

“So, we can either take turns or we can shotgun, which is where I inhale the smoke and blow it into your mouth. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He was being so sweet and gentle and it was getting really difficult for you to not fall for him even harder. You weighed your options and decided that shotgunning was probably the best idea. That way, there was less of a chance that you’d choke and maybe you just wanted to be close to Eddie.

“Can we…shotgun?” You words came out unsure and Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, wanting to make sure that was actually what you wanted. You nodded enthusiastically, scooting closer to him again. “That’s what I want to do.”

“Then let’s do it.” Eddie turned to grab his lighter from his bedside table and smiled to himself since he had secretly wanted you to pick shotgun. He wanted to be able to touch you, to feel your lips on his, the whole idea making him a little hard. Once he had the lighter, he put the joint between his fingers before holding the lighter out to you. “Wanna do the honors, cutie?”

“Sure,” you nodded and took the lighter from him. You sparked the lighter up and cupped your hand around the joint like you had seen in movies and let it catch the flame before pulling away. You kept hold of the lighter as Eddie beckoned you forward with his free hand.

“C’mere,” he said and you obeyed, moving so you were sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He mimicked your actions and you both got so close that your legs were touching. “Make sure the smoke is in your mouth before inhaling, okay? Don’t want you choking.” You just nodded and Eddie took a drag and held the smoke in his mouth as you leaned forward even more. Your lips parted and Eddie reached up to your face slowly, giving you a look as if asking for permission.

“Do what you need to do,” you told him and his fingers took hold of your chin. His thumb reached up to your bottom lip and he pulled it down as if asking you to open your mouth wider. After it was wide enough, his hand moved to your cheek, pulling your face to his. He gingerly opened up, pressing his lips to your before pushing the smoke into your mouth. You did as he instructed and waited until all of the smoke was in your mouth before you took a deep breath.

Eddie leaned away so you could exhale, gauging your reaction to make sure that you were okay. Just from your first hit, you had been doing a lot better than other first-timers he had seen. Sure, you had only done well because he had told you what to do, but he still thought that you were a natural.

“I don’t feel anything.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you still felt very sober and Eddie just laughed in response.

“You’re not going to feel anything right away, hon.” His hand moved to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Do you want another hit?”

“Yes,” you nodded and Eddie took another puff and held the joint away from the both of you as he grabbed hold of your waist, pressing his open mouth to yours once again. He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled before you were supposed to, pulling away to cough into your arm. You had been so focused on the way Eddie’s lips felt against yours that you had completely forgotten what you were supposed to do.

“You okay?” He asked, his hand moving to your back, giving it a sympathetic rub. You just held your thumb up as an indication as you continued to cough. “C’mon, let’s go get some water.”

He stubbed the joint out onto his desk then took you by the hand, pulling you from the bed. You continued to cough all the way to the kitchen and couldn’t believe that you had ruined the good time you were having because you had gotten distracted.

Eddie quickly grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it up with water from the tap before handing it to you. You quickly gulped down as much of the beverage as you could and let out a sigh of relief as you set the empty glass down on the counter.

“You okay? You good?” He asked, the words rushing out of his mouth. He stood in front of you, his hands resting on your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his chin.

Eddie didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort you and why it had become second nature to him when he was never good at or liked it, he didn’t know. Anytime he was around first-timers who inhaled improperly, someone else always stepped in to help while he watched from the sidelines. But now, there he was, fully prepared to give you whatever you needed.

“I’m good,” you assured him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Can you just…hold me for a second?”

“I can hold you for all the seconds, honey.” You weren’t sure where the little nickname came from, but you were eating it up, wanting him to say it anytime he referred to you.

You pulled back to look at him and your eyes immediately shifted to his lips. You watched him wet them with his tongue, the wet sheen making them look even more inviting. It was like he was doing it on purpose, trying to torture you by dangling it in your face, knowing that you wouldn’t do anything about it.

Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his in a lingering peck before quickly pulling away. An embarrassed flush made its way upon your face and you covered your lips with the pads of your fingertips.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You turned to leave and Eddie didn’t let you get far. He grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him. He took no time to cradle your face in your hands and capture your top lip between his two. Your hands found his waist and you pulled him to you so he was flush with your body. The kiss was slow and sweet, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It was everything you had ever hoped, everything you could have ever imagined.

“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he insisted against your lips. “You have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” That made you stop in your tracks. You quickly pulled away to look at him, your eyes widening.

“How long?” You were desperate to know exactly how long he had felt that way about you so you could see how much your crushes had overlapped each other.

“Since high school. Almost kissed you that night when I drove you home from Hellfire and I’ve been kicking myself ever since because I didn’t.”

You had remembered that night so vividly. You had ridden your bike, but Eddie had insisted on giving you a ride home. The two of you had talked the entire time about everything and nothing, occasionally giggling at little jokes that you had shared with each other. Even after Eddie had pulled into your driveway, you still sat there, neither of you wanting you to leave. You had noticed him leaning towards you, but you didn’t want to make any assumptions, so you just said your goodbyes and you just felt embarrassed for thinking that he was going to kiss you when it had been clear that he hadn’t.

All that time, you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you and you had been right. You actually hadn’t been delusional for once. For once, the guy that you had feelings for actually reciprocated them and you couldn’t have been more elated.

“Well, now you can make up for lost time.” Your hands rested against his back.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Eddie pulled you back in for another kiss, this one more rough and messy, the two of you so desperate for the other, taking exactly what you wanted from each other.

Eddie’s hands moved to your cardigan and he undid the first button so slowly, giving you a chance to back out if you wanted to. Once he got the okay to continue, he undid the rest and pushed it off of your shoulders. You removed it from your arms and let it fall to the floor.

You let your hands trail up his back and you pulled onto the bottom of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Once it was removed, he threw it to the side, grabbing hold of your waist again. His hands slipped to the strip of skin between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your tank top that had ridden up as he backed you up to the counter, your back hitting it.

He helped you get up on top of it and you spread your legs, Eddie stepping between them. His mouth was quickly on yours again as he licked into it, his tongue roaming around it as if he was trying to taste every single bit of it.

You let out a moan as his tongue swirled around yours and your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. His hands traveled up your shirt and moved to your bra, his fingers resting on the clasp as if asking to take it off.

“Take it off,” you commanded. “Please.” The word came out like a whine and Eddie was happy to oblige, quickly unhooking the clasping before removing the straps from your arms and sliding the whole thing down and pulling it from your tank top. He tossed it behind him then looked at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitance.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling from being out of breath from your lips being attached. He would have never forgiven himself if he had done something you weren’t comfortable with. He just wanted to be one hundred percent sure.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Eds.” Your hand moved up to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I want you to be my first.”

“Your first?” His eyes widened. He honestly had no idea that you were a virgin. “Y/n, are you sure you want it to be me?” Eddie wanted to be sure that it was actually what you wanted. That you were doing it with someone you cared about and he wasn’t sure he deserved to be your first.

“Very sure,” you nodded. “You’re the only one I trust to do it.” He felt his cheeks blush at your words, knowing that they meant that you had thought about having sex with him and his dick was getting harder by the second.

“Y/n, you have no idea how honored I am that you want it to be me, but I just want to be sure that you really want this.” Eddie thought it was the greatest honor of all that he was the one that you wanted to lose your virginity to and considered himself the luckiest man alive because of it.

“I’m sure,” you nodded. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Oh, have you?” He teased and pressed another kiss to your lips. “Wanna move this to the bedroom?”

“I’d want nothing more.” Eddie’s lips slotted between yours once again and his hands moved out from under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the counter. Your ankles locked at his back and he carried you to his room, your lips still in the middle of a messy kiss.

He entered his room and slammed the door behind him with his foot, hurrying the two of you to his bed. He collapsed onto it and you fell on top of him. He then sat up and looked at you with a serious look in his eyes.

“I just want to let you know a few things before we get started,” he said, his hands resting on your thighs.

“Okay,” you nodded, ready to listen to whatever he needed to say.

“First, if I go too far or you don’t like something or even if you don’t want to continue, don’t be afraid to let me know. This is all about you, okay?” You just nodded in response and Eddie licked his lips before he continued.

“And on the opposite end, don’t be afraid to let me know what you do like. If you like something, feel free to make noise, and you don’t have to be embarrassed about being too loud. There’s no such thing.”

“Got it,” you nodded, looking him in the eyes so he knew that you completely understood what he was saying. You were desperate to get on with it already, but felt like you owed it to him to listen to what he was saying since it seemed pretty important.

“Do you want to start or should I?”

“You do it.” You wanted him to take the lead since he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Okay,” he replied, leaning towards you, his face only inches from yours. “Just gonna kiss you for now, okay?”

“Mhm,” you nodded and his lips attached to yours again. You felt a little more confident and you were the one to stick your tongue into his mouth, mimicking what he had done earlier, slowly laying him down onto the bed, removing your shirt as you did so. You then leaned down and pulled him into a kiss, your bare chest against his. Eddie brought his hands up and grabbed hold of your tits, the pads of his thumbs massaging your nipples, just enough to make them hard and you made a noise that he knew that he was going to grow very fond of.

Eddie pulled away from you, his mouth immediately moving to your tit. He moved his tongue back and forth, licking across your nipple and you moaned. The whole thing was so foreign to you but you liked the feeling.

Just as you were getting used to it, he took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a pull, causing your hands to move to his hair, giving it a yank. Eddie took that as an invitation to continue and moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. You gave it his hair another yank and let out one more moan, trying your best to not be self conscious about how loud you were.

“That’s it, honey,” he said, licking another stripe along your nipple. “Let it out.” Eddie pressed his lips to the spot between your breasts then flipped you over so that your back was against the mattress. He pressed open mouthed kisses all the way down to your stomach and stopped when he got to the top of your jeans.

“These look great on you,” he complimented. “But I’d think they’d look better on the floor. Can I remove them?”

“Yes, please.” He took no time to unbutton them and pulled down the zipper before pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. He pressed a kiss to the spot above your underwear then looked up at you for permission to remove them.

“Take them off, Eds. Please. I need you.” Your words came out so whiny and Eddie felt himself getting even more hard.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded before taking your underwear off. He was about to throw them on the floor, but you stopped him, putting your hands over his.

“You should keep them,” you told him. “To remember this night.”

“Isn't that objectification?” He liked the idea of keeping your underwear, but also kind of felt like he was treating you like an object by doing that.

“Not if I say it isn’t. Put them in your pocket.” Without a second thought, Eddie put the underwear into his back pocket before resting his hand on your knees, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. He then spread your legs open to get a peek at your pussy which was sopping wet.

“Wow,” he said, noticing that there was already a stain from where everything had leaked out onto his bedding. “This might be the wettest pussy I’ve ever seen. Mind if I get a taste?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Eddie climbed off of the bed as he pulled you to the end of it. He then got onto his knees before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He looked up at you one more time for any signs of hesitance and when he saw how eager you looked, he slowly pushed his head between your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.

You let out a gasp as his nose brushed it and gripped the blanket as he licked a stripe from your slit to your clit. He swirled his tongue around the area and you couldn’t keep your sounds to yourself anymore.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, your fingers gripping more of the blanket as he worked his magic with his tongue. He grazed the sensitive spot with his teeth and you whimpered which let him know that he could continue. He applied a little more pressure with his teeth, loving the sounds that the action elicited from you.

“So good, Eds. Need more.” You were desperate for whatever he was going to give you, not caring at all what it was, just as long it felt as good as him giving you head.

“Oh, this is just the appetizer, hon.” He dove into your cunt once more, shoving his tongue inside of it, causing you to moan the loudest you ever had.

“Fuck, Eddie, more.” He swirled his tongue around and around and you made the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard in his life, knowing that they’d still ring in his head after the night was over.

After a couple more moans, he removed his face from your pussy and practically threw himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue swirling around your mouth.

“See how good you taste, honey?” He asked. “Wanna taste you all the time.”

“And I’ll let you,” you responded. “Whenever you want.”

“I love the sound of that.” He slotted his lips between yours in a dizzying kiss before pulling away. He then reached for his bedside table and pulled the drawer open before taking out a condom, not even bothering to close the drawer back.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” you told him, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew he wouldn’t ever judge you, but still couldn’t help but feel like he was going to be mad at you. He let the condom fall to the floor then moved himself back on top of you, his hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Are you mad?” You looked up at him, and his face softened instantly. He would have never been mad at you for that. Maybe he was a little disappointed, but he thought he would have been wrong to blame your for something like that.

“Baby, no, of course I’m not mad at you.” He shook his head, giving your hands a squeeze. He couldn’t have been mad at you if he tried.

“Promise?” You needed constant reassurance or your brain would convince you that he was lying.

“I promise, honey,” he nodded. “How about we put on some pajamas and watch a movie? Anything you want.”

“I’d like that,” you nodded. You really had thought you were ready, but the whole thing still scared you. You really enjoyed everything leading up to it, but still found the penetration part to be too much for you at the moment.

Eddie rolled off of you and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser before tossing them to you. You threw them on while he headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed and still felt anxious about him being mad at you. What you had was so good and you were convinced that you had ruined it.

“I’m not mad at you,” he called from the bathroom. He knew you too well sometimes, always somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking. He knew how prone you were to overthinking and was always there to reassure you that your thoughts were in fact not true.

Eddie emerged from the bathroom and threw on a shirt before throwing himself onto the mattress and rolling back on top of you. He pressed another bruising kiss to your lips, his hands reaching for yours again. He then pulled away, a grin breaking out on his face as he looked down at you.

“I’m not mad at you,” he repeated, burying his face into your neck, snuggling into it.

“I know,” you replied, just like always, but he was never convinced, even though you really did know that he wasn’t mad at you.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said one more time, pressing a kiss to your neck before rolling off you.

He reached for the remote to his tv and turned it on before pulling you to his chest. You both watched the screen mindlessly while your arms wrapped around him. One of his arms draped across your waist while the other hand stroked your hair, something he always did to bring you comfort.

You looked up at him as he watched the tv and couldn’t help but feel lucky to have a best friend like him. Someone who was always there for you no matter what. Someone who would never judge you for anything, no matter what he really thought about it. Someone who you were completely and one hundred percent head over heels for. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days you’d get the guts to tell him how you really felt.