#but my left eye was kinda itchy

[reive-1]

i was getting ready for experiments, throwing my brown hair in a messy ponytail. as i looked into my brown orbs in the mirror, commander erwin said “i sold you to pay our debts.” “what?” i gasped. “you can’t do that, you’re a horrible commander.” “well but i did, because i love basements and hate you.” then i went downstairs to meet my new master and there he was… a wall titan

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[luvelve]

˚ · . sweet blue - k. mingyu

summary: your husband’s not very good at asking for things, not even for a shave. but of course, he gets it either way.

pairing: husband!mingyu x afab!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

warnings/tags: kissing, shaving, mentions of use of a blade

a/n: i took a long and unexpected break from writing and i’m happy to be back <3 this has been sitting in my drafts for sooooo long and i finally finished it today. the ending was kinda rushed but i wanted to publish it either way to kinda get myself out of this slump. as always, feedback & likes/reblogs are always welcome :)

the dark colored marble touches the front of your thighs as you inch closer, which surprises you but you try your best not to flinch because of the task at hand. at this moment, you feel like an artist, a sculptor if you will; carefully carving clay with utmost precision. except you’re not a sculptor, and you’re not carving clay. you’re in your bathroom giving your husband, mingyu, a shave.

this was new for the both of you, as mingyu always just shaved his incredibly slow growing mustache by himself. what started all this is him seeing you in your nightstand or in the bathroom doing your makeup and skincare, and he finds it all so amusing. he swears harps and violins play in the background when you’re in your own little world, dusting your cheeks with blush, taking your mascara off, or applying lip balm? lip… stick? lip…. whatever it is that you put on your lips, he thinks to himself. all he knows is that he can watch you do it all day. but he’s also left wondering, how it would feel to do what you do on him.

for some reason, mingyu isn’t able to muster up the courage to ask you straightforward to do his skincare, but he is able to ask you to be the one to shave him since he tells you its that time of the month where his mustache gotten too long for his liking. he comes up with the excuse of not doing the job well enough, and that his face gets all ‘itchy’ afterwards. which is all a lie of course, but it’s enough to convince you to do what he asks of you.

and so you find yourself in your shared bathroom at nine in the morning, standing in between your husband’s legs as he sits on the counter, both of your faces inches from each other. the room is silent but not eery, it’s a comfortable silence. mingyu had joyfully shown you the things he uses for his shaving routine: a cheap razor, shaving cream, some aftershave seokmin had recommended to him, and a towel.

“you really should get one of those good quality razors. not these disposable ones.” you scold mingyu softly, looking at him sternly with one hand resting on his head and the other holding the razor.

“but they’re expensive.” he extends the last syllable in protest, his reply a bit garbled as he tries his best not to move his mouth too much. you know mingyu well enough that he would be pouting at this moment, if only you weren’t shaving his upper lip.

you’re too focused on the task at hand that you don’t bother arguing with the giant sulky man in front of you. you continue making slow downward strokes using the razor, watching the hair slowly disappear. mingyu doesn’t have a lot of hair on his face like other guys but you take your time, making sure to get the job done right. it is, after all, your first time.

your husband watches as your lips contort out of focus; a habit of yours that he’s taken notice and grown fond of over the years. every now and then , you get rid of the hair and cream, swishing the razor in the sink that’s filled about halfway in water. mingyu feels nothing else but happiness and content in this very moment that he’s internally doing jumping jacks.

your resting hand shifts from his head and onto his cheek to get better leverage and mingyu just has to lean in to your touch. he relishes the feeling of your warm hand and then looks at you with adoration in his eyes.

“baby…” you raise your eyebrows at him, wondering what on earth he’s doing this for in the middle of a shave. mingyu doesn’t react to your words but instead shoots you a small derpy smile, and only you would know what he means.

if there’s one thing your husband is good at, it’s getting you to give him your love and attention without even saying anything. there are nights when mingyu comes home exhausted and all he has to do is stand there in your doorway, signalling to you that he wants to be in your embrace. or when you get up earlier than him and you find him just as he’s about to wake up; he’s buried in the sheets, hair all messy, just laying there, silently telling you that he wants a taste of your lips before his morning coffee.

and it’s the same thing he’s doing now. you let out a small sigh as you tilt your head a bit in fake annoyance before you lean in to connect your lips with his. it’s quick but it’s enough that mingyu lets out a hum of contentment. you pull back and he giggles as your lips catches some of the shaving cream, giving yourself a tiny little mustache.

“happy?” you quickly reply, and mingyu catches you to plant another kiss on your lips, placing his hand on your cheek to deepen the kiss a bit.

“very.” he says, as he swipes the pad of his thumb on your upper lip to get rid of the shaving cream he transferred onto you. his giggles bounce off the quiet walls of your bathroom.

“now can you sit still so i can finish this little bit that’s left?” you say to him, and he replies with a small nod and a sheepish smile, one that’s big enough that his canines show through. mingyu feels like a sixth grader who just kissed his crush. if the marble counter wasn’t in the way, he’d be kicking his feet.

you finish the small patch of hair that he has left and you proceed to put aftershave on him, assuming it is what you put after one shaves. you put a little bit on your hands and you’re thrown off by its strong musky scent. surely this can’t be good for his skin, you think to yourself.

“babe, you really use this stuff? i think this is way too strong for you.” you say with a worried look on your face. “well… seokmin told me it was good so i just used it too.” he replies.

“well yeah, it could be working for him but for you… i’m not too sure. i don’t know… i’m just worried.” you trail off, getting some tissue to rid your hands of the product and his eyes follow you around the bathroom while you do so. you shuffle back to stand in between mingyu’s legs, “i’ll go get something from my stuff instead.”

he watches as you momentarily leave the room to grab something from your vanity. he waits in the bathroom like a five year old waiting for his mom at the grocery counter. he hears the sound of your drawer open and close and it makes him chew at his lower lip in excitement.

“okay, this should do the job.” you say as you take the product onto your hands and pat it gently on your husband’s annoyingly smooth face. you make sure to cover all the parts that the blade has touched, and your head tilts left and right trying to make sure you didn’t miss any spot.

the way his eyes light up and follow your every move don’t go unnoticed by you. his hands make their way to rest on your hips again, squeezing every so gently as not to distract you.

“aaand, that’s the last bit of it.” you say, tightening the cap of your moisturizer and setting it down on the counter. mingyu internally pouts because the task is done, nonetheless he still props himself off the counter to take a look in the mirror.

“thank you, baby.” he says softly, shooting you a sweet smile as he turns to face you again. his arms snake around your waist to pull you in for a kiss and just when your noses touch, you pause. “you know… we still have a bit of time before we have to head out. why don’t we go back to bed for a little while?”

mingyu instantly picks up on what you’re trying to say and of course he jumps on the opportunity, “yeah?” he questions, and you nod as you wrap your arms around his neck. “well you know i can’t say not to that.” his smile reaching from one ear to the other. he leans down to attach his lips to yours as the both of you slowly walk backwards into your bedroom.

“oh, one more thing.” you mumble, momentarily breaking away from the kiss. “mhmm..” mingyu hums, and you feel it rumble in his chest. “i know you don’t get ‘itchy’ after you shave, it was just an excuse to get me to do it for you.” your tone is playful, and right then and there mingyu knows you’ve got him.

“what-huh? n-yes, i do!” your husband stutters, his ears turning red in embarrassment. “sweetheart, you really expect me to believe that? i know you like the back of my hand.” you reply. before mingyu is able to say anything else, you grab his arm and lead him out of your bedroom. “now let’s go, you owe me a yummy breakfast.”

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: Hey y'all! I hope y'all enjoy, the next one might be submissive Terry idkidk 🫣 kinda hate this one.

Perfect Gentleman. | Aaron Pierre.

Gentle!Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader

Warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on, oral s3x ( m receiving), extreme language (cursing, sexual references) established relationship, slight daddy kink if you squint. Not proofread!

Summary: terry's been the perfect gentleman, maybe a little too gentle.

swear you can have me, you really one-of-one.

how you so nasty? you really one-of-one.

You eagerly scratched the itch away in your bitten up ankles. The mosquitoes out here in the Black Bayou had torn your exposed ankles up—and this was why camping wasn't your thing. You'd never complain though, any excuse to be with Terry was a good one.

"I told you to wear long socks," he chuckled looking back you and at how you'd scratched the skin on your ankles red, "all that gardenin' you do and you out here with no socks on," he softly lectured as you watched him pitch the tent, at his demand. He was such a gentleman.

You'd been dating Terry for over four months, you've both went on a plethora of dates, had the steamy first kiss, and even spent a night at each others apartment, but you still hadn't fucked yet. Was it you? You knew you had an Oscar worthy performance of your coy-innocent act that Terry ate up all of the time, but you weren't a prude. You couldn't count how many times you'd hinted, and seduced only to be met with more gentleness.

And you loved how patient, protective, and gentle he was with you. He was everything you'd practically asked for when you started dating. A nice man, a sweet man—and you got it, a full blown golden retriever boyfriend. He had so many amazing qualities, he was always on time arriving fifteen minutes early. Something he said was one of the most useful things he learned from his time in the Marine Corps. He was a full blown de-escalator, he never wanted to argue with you, always communicating as calmly as he could before coming to an understanding with you. He was gentle. But maybe he was too gentle? You wanted Terry in the worst ways. It didn't help that he stayed in good shape, gym four times a week, and his infinite morning runs kept him in tip-top shape.

You pouted, squinting your eyes as you looked at Terry from underneath the brim of the Nike bucket hat you'd retrieved from him. Although he was pitching the tent and the sun was currently beating down on him, he decided that, you, sitting in the shade doing nothing, needed the hat more. Such a man.

"You said come comfortable, and I garden in my crocs—that's what I came in!" You defended your reasoning for not wearing the socks that he did tell you to pack last night over a quick FaceTime call, but he did say come comfortable in the same sentence. "These mosquitos are relentless, baby, look at my ankles!" You frowned looking at how red and irritated the skin has gotten there even on your deep brown skin.

Of course Terry stopped his meddling with the tent and came over to assess your so badly injured ankles. He tsk'd softly his big hands cradling both of your ankles gently. Now push them behind my head! you eagerly thought feeling him touch you at all always sent shocks and shivers through your body.

"They eatin' my baby up," he somberly acknowledged rubbing his thumbs where the bites were firmly, "you put bug spray on like I told you?"

You nodded. "Yeah, just go and finish the tent," you dramatically sighed waiting to eagerly scratch at the bites, "I'll just be sitting over here, itchy, getting ate up." At least something was eating you up.

He brought your left ankle up to his lips casually, placing a soft kiss there before setting the both of them back down carefully. You almost moaned, it had been way too long. "stop scratchin' at em, you makin' em worse."

You looked at him, batting your eyelashes at him a dazed nod following right behind. He was so gorgeous, and it didn't help that he was so sweet and treated you like the absolute brat you were. He continued on with his quick work with the tent and you continued on with your sneaky scratching. After it was perfectly pitched, he got you inside as soon as it was done to rub a bit of alcohol on your itchy ankles and making you put on a pair of his socks that were way too big for you.

You frowned looking down at your legs later that night as you both set around the campfire, that you had gotten started. You hadn't forgotten all the survival tips your father had shown you. Terry focused on cooking the fish he and you caught earlier from the pier. He'd cleaned it and dissembled it himself. "These are puttin' a damper on my outfit, so not cute."

Terry chuckled, quickly flipping the searing fish over in the pan. Your eyes flickered over to him. "What?"

"You so country," he commented through a light chuckle, "damper?"

"That's not country!" You defended through a smile. "Everybody says damper!"

"Nobody says damper,"

"Does too!"

"Why you gotta be such a brat? Why you act like that?" He teased playfully, holding his hand out to you only to pull you up from your chair and into his lap. "Hm?" He hummed nuzzling his faced into your neck where he playfully nipped at the skin on your neck, knowing the ticklish effect it had on you.

You laughed hunching your shoulder up to push him away from the area, "stop!" The assault lasted a few more minutes before he reluctantly stopped, only when he seen the tears from your nonstop laughter, and how you cradled your aching stomach when you laughed.

"Brat," he mumbled in between persisting kisses to your lips. You happily returned each one, who were you to deny the brat allegations. They were very true. "Always gotta have yo way."

"You love how bratty I am," you retorted, trailing your own lingering kisses from his lips, to his jaw, to his neck.

"I do," he mumbled out an agreement making you laugh against his neck before continuing on, and you thought maybe, as his hands kneaded the back of your thighs and the undersides of your ass. But all that came undone when he urgently removed you from his lap in light hysterics about almost burning the fish.

The fish.

How could he even think about fish when he had your throbbing pussy in his lap, was he really blind to all this shit? Or was he just not sexually attracted to you? Or was he fucking celibate? The questions brought on a lingering insecurity. The rest of the night you were more distant, quiet, the situation left you a little embarrassed and salty. You'd never had a man be so indifferent to your advances. Or did he even see them as advances? Hell, you didn't know anymore.

Your distance and quiet demeanor didn't go unnoticed either Terry, who constantly made it his mission to see if you were okay and enjoying yourself. You answered the same all the time, yes, which did very little to comfort him—but he also didn't wanna push you into irritation.

"You sure you good, baby?" He asked later that night as you both settled into the cozy tent. You made sure to nestle yourself into your cute, pinky, sleeping bag. It was so you.

"Yeah." You simply answered with a nod, forcing the weak smile. Such a liar. But you weren't gonna admit that the situation left you feeling a little salty. You didn't wanna bring the situation up at all, you'd much rather forget it.

"You sure? You not actin' like yourself, baby. You want me to take you home?" There he went. Being so him. Always being so caring.

"No, I'm fine. It's nothing really, im just..itchy still." You seamlessly lied. Or maybe not. You were still itchy.

Terry decided not to press the issue instead making sure he got as close as possible to you, something he always did when you slept together, he loved being right up under you—you didn't contest to it. Ever. You both gave your good nights, and Terry made sure to turn off the LED lantern lamp you both had in the tent. A soft and easy silence falling over the both of you. Terry's soft breathing, body heat, chirping crickets and the pitch black were enough to lull you to sleep. And they almost did, but damn, you were still itchy.

You brought your knees to your chest, hastily scratching at your extremely itchy ankles, a heavy, draws out sigh from the temporary but almost euphoric relief skipped past your lips.

"Stop scratchin'." Terry's deep voice but through the silence, the raspiness on the edge of his voice attributed to the sleep that had took him in quick. The words halted your actions quickly as you tried to quietly morph into a comfortable position.

"I'm not," you spoke quietly.

"But you were."

His damn hearing. He heard everything.

"Well I wouldn't have been if I was doing something else." Your tone snappy but the suggestiveness fore fronted the sassiness.

"Somethin' else like what?" Terry questioned.

You huffed immediately, sitting up abruptly from your sleeping bag and flickering the lantern on. "Are you really that clueless?" You exclaimed almost, looking at his ever so lost expression. "Terry, are not you sexually attracted to me?"

Terry looked at you as if you'd grown two heads. Like he couldn't understand why you'd ask him such a question, like you didn't know he was a full blown raging man. "Why would you even ask me that, of course im sexually attracted to you, baby."

"You don't act like it," you quietly murmured, "it's like every time I try, you pull back. What is it? I really thought I was obvious enough with everything."

And you were. Terry wasn't ignorant to your advances. But he also wasn't ignorant to your past relationships and the men that you dealt with. Full blown sex addicts a few of them seemed to be, and some of them seemed unable to form a real bond with you without sex. He wanted to prove to you that he actually liked you, that he wanted to get to know you past sex. That he wanted this to last. It'd taken copious amounts of restraint for him to slyly deter away from the advances. Copious amounts.

He wasn't exactly sure how he made it to four months himself, without caving in. Maybe it was his serious he'd gotten about your relationship, maybe it was genuine like for you that made it somewhat easy. He was still a man though, taking care of himself when he was finally away from you.

He said your name slowly, sitting up himself, "im utterly, completely, and deeply sexually attracted to you. But I wanna show you that when it comes to keeping this together, sex is indifferent to me. I don't want you to think we need that shit to connect. I genuinely like you, alot."

"I like you too, but I already knew that Terry," he softly laughed, the weight of the insecurities dropping off your shoulders. You couldn't believe that once again, all this time, the lack of sex was catered to his feelings about you. You were gonna fuck this man so good. So good. "I knew that at the end of the first date when you didn't try to kiss me when you dropped me off." You giggled at the recanting of the memory.

"I wanted you to feel it though."

"And I do feel it," you slinked even closer to him, hand trailing up his thigh, "I feel it so much." You looked up at him, batting your long lashes.

Terry sat there slack mouthed, brows furrowed, his stormy eyes looking down at you with bursting pleasure and astonishment as he watched you suck him down. How the fuck did you get so good at this shit? You'd completely covered his shaft in your saliva, you were loud and sloppy. Just how he liked it. Throat so tight around him, every time you nuzzled him in. You were dazed yourself, tasting him, having him in the back of your throat where you craved him so many times before. You were savoring all of this.

Your hands wrapped themselves around his girthy length, stroking them at a brisk pace, your wet mouth guiding them in their dizzying up and down movements. His grunts and groans of approval only furthered you to please him more. You looked up at him, eyes watery, and soft as you took him down, spit bubbles formed around him, as you nuzzled him in deeper into your mouth. Removing a spit soaked hand, you nuzzled that into your soaked panties, pleasing him, pleased you.

"Sss-shitttt," he drug out through a groan, his strong hand grasping the back of your neck, as he bucked himself up into your mouth, relentlessly fucking your throat. You shut your watery, burning eyes letting him use you how he wanted. "Fuck, eat that dick up baby. You do that shit so good," he slurred through his persisting moans.

That only furthered your arousal, which furthered your efforts. The rough gags and choking from you was almost enough to send him over the edge. Almost. You finally pulled back, giving him a chance to recover and giving yourself a chance to catch your ailing breathing.

You stroke him off, spitting down on his shaft in your hands, eagerly stroking the lubrication in, leaning your head down to suck one of his balls into your mouth; gently. You knew too much. How did you know so much?

"Why you so nasty?" He mumbled grabbing your chin once you were done tending to his balls. "Hm?" He hummed before pressing your wet lips to his own. His kiss rushed, sloppy, and deep. His tongue searched every inch of your mouth, his lips sucking your own into his mouth.

Oh he was nasty like that?

"Move," he knocked your hands away from his still hardened dick, "take that shit off." He comments taking heed to the articles of clothing you still had on, his own hands slithering under the oversized shirt you'd put on for bed.

"But I wanted to make you cum—" you started, wiping your wet mouth with the back of your hand once he eagerly pulled your t-shirt off, nipples immediately pebbling due to the exposure of the cool night air in the tent. You didn't get to finish your sentence before Terry's lips were already latched onto the flesh on your neck, creating red blemishes as he cascaded down your body skillfully.

"You bout to," he mumbled attaching his lips to yours once again, "open up," he tapped your jaw firmly, "lemme see." The firm taps to your jaw ignited the fire and aching need in your belly, a moan slipped past your lips as you opened like he asked.

You watched, dazed, as he spat down into your mouth. Oh, he was nasty.

It was like yin and yang to you. This couldn't be your Terry. Not the Terry that bought you flowers every Sunday and never let you lift a finger Terry. This was a different Terry, nasty Terry. Impatient Terry. Demanding Terry. Just what you wanted.

"Oh my god-uhhhh!" You slurred out through a moan. Terry's vice grip on your locs matched the same vice grip you currently had him in right now. He had you positioned on all fours, one hand on your hip to steady his hard, dizzying strokes. He was fucking you hard, too hard. Too good. Your thighs trembled beneath you, knees threatening to buckle as he slammed into your heated core repeatedly. It's like he knew exactly where that spot was located. "Right there, daddy! Right fucking there," you whimpered, face pressed pathetically on the pallet beneath you.

"I know, i feel that shit," he groaned, sending another hard smack to your ass cheek, the recoil from his pelvis constantly slamming into your ass had him in a complete daze. Four months he kept himself from this, restrained himself from what he knew had to be good. But he didn't expect it feel like this. "Wettin' me right the fuck up—mm mm, keep that shit right there, you better not fuckin' lay down, keep that shit open just like that." He mumbled out into the tent, taking into head your trembling legs. The lewd sounds of your sopping wet pussy, followed by the loud slapping of your skin together filled your tent and your empty head.

"Fuckkkk," you groaned out, managing to sit up in your elbows, acrylics clawing at the covers beneath you, your eyes crossed as you felt his tip kissing a little too deep, "so deep, baby."

"Mhm," he hummed pulling your head back with his tight grip on your hair, his lust filled glare looking right down into your own crossed eyes, "right where i should be. Look at you, takin' this dick like a good girl. This what you wanted right?"

"Yesssss," you managed to fully get out, a series of breath taking moans following. He was giving you exactly what you wanted; hard, rough shit. He was fucking you like he hated you, like he had a point to prove. This shit was only making you delusional did he not understand the type of you he would get now?

"Yeah? Wanted daddy to dig yo' shit out just like this, huh?" He nodded watching you nod in response, your breaths coming out in a series of heavy puffs. "I know you did, can tell by the way you creamin' on my dick."

"Shittt!" You gasped out the exploitive, planting your hands flat against the ground, mustering yo whatever weak energy you had to fuck yourself back against him, working toward your own impending orgasm. "I'm finna cum!" You rushed out.

Terry pulled you back toward his chest, your small frame engulfed in his as you sat promptly in his lap getting impaled in the most delicious way possible. You felt lightheaded, high, and perfect all at once. "Babyyyy, im cummin'!" You whined out.

"Keep tellin' me, do that shit. Lemme feel you cum on my dick," he grunted, the lewd works making you clench around him as they clearly sent you tumbling over the edge. Terry mocking your long, loud and drawn out moans with his own. His lips attacking wherever they could on your exposed neck. His impaling strokes never stopped, even when it was clear you'd completely rode it out. He kept fucking you, sending you into a deep place of overstimulation. When was he ever planning to cum?

"Look at you," he mumbled a smug smirk on his lips, hand firmly holding your slacked jaw in his hand, "dick got you dumb—breathe through that shit, baby." He tapped your jaw, repeatedly. The sight of you alone, plus the constant contracting of your walls around him had earned you a deliciously sounding groan. You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until he spoke up.

Everything was too much. It was too much to focus on. The pleasure, his voice, his kisses. Forgetting to breathe in the middle of your overstimulation was warranted.

Your breaths cane tumbling back to you fast, hard and quick you panted. Body trembling in Terrys grasp, as dared to lean forward feeling another orgasm approaching, but this one felt harder. Body-shattering. It hurt and felt so good at the same time.

"Fuck, ima nut baby," Terry grunted in your ear. "Pussy so good, why yo shit so good like this?" Finally.

"Cum in my pussy, please daddy," was the first and only thing you could get out, not even warning him about your oncoming orgasm. This one cramped everything, the tightness in your stomach didn't subside but seemed to get tighter. Your thighs were numb, but your legs ached. The squeal you let out left your throat raw, and that's why you didn't hear Terry when he finally announced that he was cumming, but you felt him for sure, right where you told him to.

You felt Terry's lips against your jaw, kissing you repeatedly. Telling you how well you did for him, how he couldn't believe he kept himself away from that for four months. How good it was. These were finally the words that lulled you off to a blissful sleep, you'd finally got what you wanted. There you were, fucked out In a tent, with cum leaking out of you. Such a whore. A happy whore.

-

still no tag list! 😭 hope you enjoy this little filler! 💕

[pomefioredove]

movie night

summary: vil devotes his time to showing you all the movies you haven't seen yet type of post: short fic characters: vil schoenheit additional info: romantic, FLUFF, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, kinda short author's note: I so often think about how yuu is completely unfamiliar with pop culture in twisted wonderland. vil would lose his mind if he found out you hadn't seen a single movie yet. in my heart I know he's a little nerdy about it

It's to be expected.

Of course. Of course you haven't had the time or the means.

It's perfectly reasonable that you'd put your studies and social obligations before leisure time. He understands.

But hearing you so openly admit that you haven't seen a single movie since arriving in this world, let alone one of his, doesn't sit well with Vil Schoenheit.

As it turns out, the mythological being who doesn't spend their free time absorbed in media is real, and they're standing right in front of him with an apologetic smile.

Oh, you poor, poor thing.

Even after the conversation dies and you part ways on good terms, Vil can't shake this odd, itchy feeling.

He wonders what it must be like- not understanding anyone's references, being left out of conversations, still so dependent on a culture that doesn't even exist here.

Is there something wrong with the people you spend your time with? Surely at least one of them would take the time to show you the classics. Just one.

No wonder everyone regards you as naive and innocent. No one's taken the time to explain anything about this world to you. And he's sure that extends far beyond cinema...

"What is this?"

It's the first thing you ask when he opens the door to you. Ever curious, ever clueless.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" he says, looking thoroughly unamused with your naivete.

A projector. A white screen. And a tray full of luxury skincare essentials that he'll be sure to test on you while you're distracted.

"Seriously," you say. "What's going on? Your message was really vague."

He sighs. "Oh, goodness, just come inside,"

Vil sits you down on the edge of his bed and hands you a plush headband to push your hair out of your eyes. He's more than pleased at your lack of protests thus far, and continues to take advantage of your willingness while smearing a sweet-smelling face mask over your cheeks.

"It needs to set before we start,"

"Start what?"

Vil smirks, standing and drifting across the room to a large wardrobe- no, a cabinet. He opens it- no, a shelf. Packed full of DVDs, arranged by date and in pristine condition.

"Wow, Vil. I never took you for a nerd,"

His gaze sharpens. "Hardly. And try not to talk so much right now, you'll crack the mask,"

He hums merrily, delicate fingers dancing over the smooth plastic cases before stopping at a soft white one. "This'll do,"

You watch as Vil returns to your side, carefully inspects your face, and then walks back around to tinker with the projector. You, of course, wait patiently, hands folded neatly in your lap as the screen ahead of you comes to life.

He turns off the lights and sits beside you as a white light illuminates your face, turning the hue of the mask a strange color.

"This is a classic," he whispers. "It's the first film I remember loving."

"It's that good?"

He chuckles. "No, it's quite outdated, and terribly unfunny. I'm just fond of it,"

If there's anything Vil Schoenheit is, it's honest. The entire black and white picture (which you surmise is quite old by Twisted Wonderland standards) is heaped with unfunny and confusing references, terribly paced, and acted like a primary school play.

And yet, there's a sense of warmth that permeates the external terribleness of it, that of which takes form in each of Vil's awkward laughs.

You revel in each of his little comments, his tidbits about the actors, his trivia about the production. He certainly seems to know what he's talking about, and his grace and confidence almost distract you from how nerdy he's really being.

Though, he's really not paying close attention to the screen. Vil seems far more interested in watching you, your reactions, almost as if searching for some kind of approval in the expressions you make. Do you laugh at this joke? Do you ask about this plot twist? Do you enjoy this song?

It's a completely alien experience, having him looking to you for validation, although you make sure to comment on how much you enjoyed yourself. Just to see him smile again.

"Same time next week, then," he says. "One movie won't be enough to catch you up on decades of pop culture, after all."

And thus, a tradition is born.

It's strange for him to think about how you've made yourself a home in his schedule. Wedged between expensive photo shoots and meetings with luxury brands, there's you. One single name in the same spot every week.

He couldn't admit it, but you've quickly become the highlight of his calendar.

"And this is just after they transitioned to movies with sound. It was a grand extinction event, not every studio nor star survived," he says, nodding to the screen ahead.

You hum in agreement. Your eyes are heavier than usual, and you're leaning against your elbow, absent-mindedly agreeing with everything he says.

A part of Vil wants to tease you for finding his taste in film boring, but he's not even sure if you have the mental capacity to listen to big words right now.

"Sleepy?"

"Grim kept waking me up last night..." you sigh. "I'm paying attention, I promise."

He watches you lie through your teeth, and then he watches as your words grow heavy and your body slumps over, awkwardly positioned against his.

Vil sighs- whatever is he going to do with you and that terrible sleep schedule of yours?- and readjusts so that your head is neatly set in the crook of his neck and your body is comfortably fit against his.

He finishes the movie, and lets the screen play the menu sequence over and over again. It's not really worth waking you up over, after all.

You're so cute when you're sleeping.

He hates himself for thinking that. You're perfectly inelegant- awkwardly breathing, practically drooling. And yet, he could stay here for the rest of the night and not wholly regret it in the morning. He just wishes you'd picked a better time to fall asleep on him.

Someday, he'd gladly return to bed to cuddle with you after he'd done his evening routine.

But... just this once, he'll let it go.

[sturncrazy]

PITSTOP🔥

matt sturniolo x y/n (fem)

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT nsfw 18 +(exhibitionism?, dom matt, language, unprotected sex, kinda rough, lil kinky at the end)

authors note: writin some matt content for variety 🤌 this is slightly inspired by that one time matt forcibly yanked nick out of the car cause that moment lives in my head rent free.

summary: you and your boyfriend matt are driving home from an event )you were his date) when you get bored and start teasing him more than he can handle

word count: 2,254 w

—————————————————————————

you sighed, stretching you arms above your head to the roof of the car.

“you tired, babe?” Matt questioned, not moving his eyes from the road

“mmm a little” you responded. it was a calm warm night driving along one of the quieter roads. you watched out the window looking at the few stars you could spot in the clear night sky. the car hummed peacefully while Matt’s playlist played low in the background.

You let out a small hiss of pain as you rolled out your ankles, suddenly aware the damage wearing heels for the night had done to you.

“what’s wrong?” Matt asked, concerned.

“nothin, feet just hurt from my shoes”

“oh, take ‘em off? you can put your feet up on the dash. might help with blood flow or somethin” he replied. you took his advice and kicked off the evil pointed toe stilettos you had on after unbuckling the ankle straps. you sighed in relief as you lifted your legs up and stretched them out. the silky black dress you had on had a slit up the left side and as you raised your legs half the fabric slipped between your thighs, exposing your left leg up to the side of your thong.

“woooo look at those legs…gonna make me crash the car if you distract me like that, babe” matt said stealing a glance at your body next to him. you felt a small flutter in your stomach at his comment. Matt had that effect on you so easily. even this far along into your relationship. it only ever took him even suggesting sex for you to be all over him.

“distracting you? whaaaat? i’m just gettin comfy” you teased hiking your dress up all the way and moving your bare legs around slightly.

“cmon y/n, at least wait til we’re home” Matt chuckled trying to keep his peeks at you subtle. you dramatically fussed around in your seat and whined.

“this dress is uncomfy. the straps are itchy”

“mmm” matt mumble ignoring you. you huffed, exasperated that he wasn’t giving you any attention. you whined again and reached to your side to start tugging at your zipper which made a loud sound as you pulled it.

“wha-what are you doing?” matt stuttered looking over at you. he knew that sound.

“i’m taking the top of it off. it’s bugging me.” you stated flatly.

“y/n, you can’t take your dress off in the car”

“i said I’m taking the top of it off. don’t worry i’m not gonna sit here totally buttass naked”

“still what if someone sees or something” matt said worriedly as you started to pull your arms out of the straps, still holding the top part of the dress up to cover your boobs.

“well then, lucky them” you replied letting go of your hold of the fabric. it slipped down easily sitting around your stomach, leaving you exposed from your bellybutton up. the cool air from the cars ac hit your skin making your nipples perk up immediately.

“jesus y/n” matt rasped out, swallowing loudly looking at your exposed tits. you played stupid and turned to him.

“what?”

“you know what. you have your tits out in my car and i’m trying to drive. don’t be dumb with me right now” he huffed getting pissed off at you. his grip tightened on the steering wheel and you felt a wetness start to form between your legs as you watched his tattooed arm muscles flex slightly. you leaned across the arm rest and up to his ear and kissed it lightly and then bit on his earlobe slightly.

“seriously y/n? this is unsafe”

“how far from getting home are we, matty?” you panted into his ear.

“like 25 minutes. now sit back down.” you whined loudly, crashing back into your seat.

“that’s too loonnnggg”

“too long for what”

“to wait. i’m horny now, matty” you said in your brattiest tone.

“so? not my problem. control yourself, y/n” he said ignoring you again. this was the last straw. his seeming lack of interest had pushed you too far. you needed to get under his skin. and you needed something to sooth the building pressure between your legs that was crying for attention. you placed your legs back up on the dash and let your knees fall to either side, leaning one against the window and intentionally dropping the other to give matt as clear of a view as possible. the crotch of your mesh thong was now fully on display. you shivered as the cool air blasting from the vents reached new places. you took a hand and ran it across your still exposed tits before dragging it down your stomach and into the space between your legs. you let out a small moan and threw your head back against your headrest as you began to press your fingers up against the soaked mesh fabric. slowly you pushed it aside and began to run two fingers up and down your slick folds which created an audibly wet sound.

“y/n what the fuck are you doing” matt barked looking over at you.

“fixing my problem since clearly you’re no help” you hissed as you began to drag circles over your clit. you let out another exaggerated moan, bordering on pornographic and closed your eyes. you felt matt make a sharp turn with the car. a few moments later, half still in the trace of your self inflected pleasure, you became aware that the car had stopped moving. you fluttered your eyes open just in time to see matt getting out of the car and slam his door. you had just enough time to process your visible surroundings as he made his way around the car to your side. you were somewhere wooded and darker, pulled off on the side of what looked to be a dead road. maybe matt really had had enough of your toying with him and this is where he’d brought you to get rid of you. you felt your leg fall down, loosing its support, as your side door swung open. before you had time to question what was going on matt yanked you out of the car by your wrist. you stumbled slightly trying to get your footing on the grassy patch beneath you. he slammed his body up against your back and roughly wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you impossibly closer

“bend over the hood of the car” he growled into your ear still behind you

“matt-wha—here? but—“

“you wanna act like a little slut on the road and touch yourself for anyone to see? then you’ll get fucked like a little slut for anyone to see. i said. bend over the fucking hood of the car now.” he snarled before unlatching from your waist and giving you a slight push in his desired direction. you obliged as a combination of nerves and desire stuttered through your body. you reached the hood of the car and leaned over it pressing your stomach and chest with your half-on dress up against the cool metal of the vehicle.

“lift up your dress” matt said firmly from behind you. once again you listened as you bunched up the fabric that covered your legs and ass and tucked it under your upper half to hold it up.

“good girl.” he said and you felt a harsh slap hit your backside. you let out a small shriek at the sensation. it hurt, but in a good way. a way that made you want more. he pushed his crotch, still in his jeans, up against your bare skin.

“you look so fuckable like this, y/n” he said thrusting his covered hardon against you more harshly.

“matt—please” you whined out. he wrapped a fistful of your hair around his wrist and yanked your head back.

“what was that, slut?” he snarled into your ear again.

“please matt— i need you” you panted desperately

“you begging for my cock already, you little whore?” he said slipping a hand around between your legs and beginning to rub his long slender fingers up and down the soaking thin mesh layer covering your pussy. you whimpered uncontrollably at the sensation.

“tell me what you need” he said continuing to send electricity through your body as he rubbed at your pulsing bundle of nerves

“please matt- i - i need you— i need you to fuck me— i need to feel you inside of me right now” you croaked out hearing the sound of a zipper being undone. he shoved the pathetic bit of fabric covering your dripping folds to the side

“that’s my good girl” he cooed sinisterly before slamming into you without warning. you let out a loud cry at the sensation of him so suddenly stretching you out. matt and you had had sex more than a few thousand times, but you’d never quite get used to his size. you heard him grunt as your walls clenched around him.

“fuck i love that tight little pussy” he grunted slowly pulling back out of you.

“so big matt—it—it hurts” you slurred out breathlessly

“oh don’t act like you can’t take it now, baby” he said pushing you harshly down against the car hood, your face smushing up against it slightly before he slammed back into you again filling you up.

“OH GOD MATT” you yelped out in half pain and half ecstasy. he began to thrust into you at a relentless pace. you let out a string of curses and moans so loud and pathetic it put most porn to shame.

“you like when i fuck you like the little slut you are out here for anyone to see?” matt groaned as he slapped your ass again, never letting up on his pace

“fuuuu—yes matt oh fuck” you cried out desperately fighting to breath through his ramming into your dripping hole. he pushed one hand down on your lower back forcing your ass even higher up making his hard length push even deeper into you. you thought the sensation would make you pass out.

“yeah? want everyone to watch me fuck you and see how pathetic you are for my dick, huh?”

“yes yes yes” you moaned

“fuuuucckk you feel so fucking good y/n” he exhaled leaning slightly over you now, supporting himself with his arms on either side of you pressing against the car hood, never stopping his thrusts.

the sound of his hips slapping your ass as he tirelessly slammed his throbbing dick inside of you must’ve been audible from miles away.

“matt shit i’m close” you horsely managed to squeak out

“yeah? you gonna cum all over my cock for me princess?” he said before biting down into the soft flesh of your shoulder. you let out another cry and felt the pit in your stomach of tension start to build up to its final moments.

“cmon babygirl. cum for me” those words sent you over the edge as you let out an unimaginably loud moan and felt yourself ooze your release juices and clench uncontrollably around him. he let out a low growl as his thrusts started becoming more messy.

“oh fuck i’m gonna cum y/n”

“mmm yes matty cum all over my pussy” you said still coming down from your high

“FUCK oh fuck i’m cumming i’m gonna cum” he stuttered pulling out of you abruptly just in time to coat your folds with thick spurts of his hot release. he shuddered collapsing on top of you slightly. you let out a small satisfied mmm as he tried to catch his breath.

“do you want me to try to find you a tissue or something” he said pulling back from you, looking at the mess he’d made of you.

“no” you stated calmly turning to face him.

“i like it this way.” you said readjusting your thong back over your sticky area enjoying the look of both awe and slight embarrassment that flushed matt’s sweet face.

“god your hot” he said pulling you in for a genuine kiss then heading back for his side of the car.

“y’know when we first pulled up here i thought you’d actually brought me out here to kill me” you laughed climbing back into the passenger seat and shutting the door behind you.

“what? cmon y/n, you know i’d never hurt you” said matt as he settled into his seat seemingly truly concerned by your accusation

“no no i know trust me”

“i mean i might fuck you so hard you wish you were dead, but that’s a different story” he said bashfully looking at his feet, he’s usual shyness taking back over slightly. both adorable and hot. he really could do no wrong. you giggled lightly and leaned over giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“i love you matty” you said sweetly

“i love you too, y/n” he said smiling at you. you grinned back at him still leaning over your seat loving getting to look at his face this close up. you always adored those big blue eyes. he blinked at you softly and then peered down your gaping dress raising his eyebrows dramatically.

“think you have a round two in you when we get home?” he asked with a grin

“maaattt” you said giving him a small slap on the chest

“what?”

“you’re not tired after that whole display?” you questioned

“oh please y/n, we’re just getting started” he said starting the car engine.

————————————————————————— uhh lowkey i rly like this one??

[miley1442111]

thank god for dr. spencer reid

a/n: this was written with a fem!reader in mind but imagine what you want, reader has a period (same girl) :) spencer us such a cutie in this :)))))))

summary: your shitty family is in town and spencer is away, what will you do?

pairing: spencerreid x reader

warnings: heavy family issues, mentions of stress and sickness, very brief mention of abuse (litch not talked about just referenced dw), kinda cursing (just realised i've never warned this before... opps) and i might've missed some!

My eyes are glued to the screen with a perpetual frown playing on my lips. It’s hard to try to care about my job when I have this looming feeling of dread hanging over me like a cloud. Spencer has been MIA for days now. He left in a hurry on Monday night for a case. It’s Saturday now and he hasn’t been responding to my calls. On top of that, I have dinner with my mother and father. Both of them make it abundantly clear that they’re disappointed in my career choice, which is ridiculous because I’m a lawyer. Not the right kind of lawyer they constantly say. I’m an environmental lawyer and I make good money. The only way to satiate their insufferable whining is with Spencer. They love him. They probably love him more than me at this point. Alas, I will just have to deal with them alone tonight. And today has already been one hell of a day. First, Morgan called me,asking where Spencer was, telling me that they finished and that they should be home soon. He had not come home yet. Secondly, I feel like shit, an allergic reaction, my period and some random nausea all add up to making me feel itchy, gross, and practically vile all over. Thirdly, a huge pimple has decided to pop up on my face and  just know my mother will comment on it. My mother is one of those women who look effortlessly put-together 24/7. I am not one of those women. She does not like women who don’t look effortlessly put together. Aka, she barely tolerates me. 

I sigh and close my laptop screen, unable to reread the same few sentences again and again, hoping that they would get into my brain. I’m defending a client, one of my firm's biggest clients, in court next week. They were accused of illegal dumping (dumping they did not commit) and now they’re being sued for 2 million dollars. I slump out of my desk chair and out of my home office, locking it behind me for the weekend ahead. If I have court next week and Spencer is coming home after a difficult case, then we’ll need a day or rest and relaxation together. That is, if he even bothers to come home. I busy myself with getting ready and try to push those thoughts out of my head. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last hour of my life has been 60 minutes of absolute misery. Why did I ever accept this invite? My mother excuses herself to the bathroom and my father excuses himself for a cigarette, I nod along. Then it hits me… my dad doesn’t smoke anymore. I stare at the door and before I can stop myself my face contorts into a frown once again. Amelia, my sister. The sister that I haven't seen in years. The sister that bullied and abused me throughout our teenage years. Fuck. 

“Amelia?” I question, looking at the blonde woman who looks… different. She’s obviously older than I remember, and a bit more… I don’t know how to put it. Her blonde hair surpasses her waist and she seems to be pregnant? Her blue eyes seem dull and lack a certain vividness they used to sparkle with. She’s the typical peaking in high-school mean girl who became a nurse girl. I honestly can’t believe I used to look up to her. 

“It’s so good to see you!” She smiles, one of her fake-bitchy smiles and I grimace as she tries to hug me. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, especially with the baby on the way, I’ll need all the help I can get!”

My heart drops. “Oh!” Is all I can manage. She sits in the seat beside me and I instinctively move further away. Just as I think this stupid dinner can’t get any worse, her pervy fiancé, Johnny, walks in.

“No Spencer?” He smirks. “What? Did you two break up? He was always too vanilla for you, you need a real man-” 

“No, sorry. I was just late. I had to come straight from the jet,” Spencer smiles from behind him. My parents' eyes light up, as Amelia and Johnny’s faces fall. I smile appreciatively at him as he hands the flowers he brought over to my parents and sits beside me, a comforting hand on my thigh. 

“How’s work, Spencer?” My father asks, his undivided attention on Spencer.

“It’s good, strenuous but good. Our cases recently haven’t been too difficult- though there was one that had a puzzle I thought you might enjoy…”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk inside our house behind him, a million thoughts at once flowing through my head. We walk to the kitchen, he sits me down and takes off my shoes for me, a true gentleman. 

He presses a kiss to my cheek and smiles. “You look beautiful.”

I just nod back, a small smile on my lips. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, turning to me, his hands resting on my waist. 

“Fine,” I tiredly smile. “Just�� you know, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You know, saying that makes me worry more, right?:” He smiles softly, though we both know he’s serious. 

“I just… I can’t believe she just showed up, like 7 years  of not seeing her and she just shows up? Like it’s casual? And then asks for our help with her baby? Like she did nothing to me? Like she-” I stop myself, determined not to cry right now. 

“Angel, it’s ok, let it out,” he soothes, a hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles. 

“I don’t want to cry though, they’re not worth crying over.”

“Then how about we get ready for bed, yeah angel?” He offers, a tired look in his eyes. I nod and press a soft to his perfect lips. He smiles against my mouth, his hands finding the sides of my face. I run a hand through his hair. He pulls away softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I smile. “Thank you for coming, my knight in shining armour.” 

“I enjoyed it. Watching your father fail to solve a simple puzzle was amusing.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as I roll my eyes. 

“We’re not all geniuses,” I remind him. 

“You are.”

“And how am I a genius?” I chuckle.

“You’re dating me, you clearly have superior taste and intelligence,” he says matter-of-factly. I gigle at his antics and kiss him again. He pulls away and grabs my hand, leading me into our room. We both opt out of brushing our teeth and washing our faces, a makeup wipe sufficing for removing my makeup. He pulls me into bed with him, and finally, after a long week, I finally lie down in bed with him, his arms around me in a bear-hug of sorts. This is heaven. He’s my knight in shining armour. Thank God for Dr. Spencer Reid. 

[godhandler]

[Sukuna x possessed!reader, demonic possession, religious undertones, d/s relationship, body control, smut, manipulation and gaslighting, dubcon ig, nipple play, kinda fucked up <3]

It’s all in your head. 

Dark bedroom. Moonlight outside. Smudged outlines of the nightlife out the window: distant club-goers, cars speeding down the street, flashy signs of 24/7 convenience stores.

You’re going insane, doll. 

Blankets are too heavy, too warm, a coffin-like pressure burying you alive deep underground– tear it off, tear it off you. Your pyjamas are drenched in cold sweat, your hair stuck dirty onto your red forehead, brushing into your teary eyes. Itchy, irritating, everywhere. Tear if off, get off, get off me. 

You strip off your clothes, your underwear, you try to scratch your skin-shell out. Get out, get away. It’s not working. He’s here. He’s in you. 

I’m always inside you. You’re mine. My darling doll. 

Ryomen Sukuna.

Yes, puppet? His voice echoes in your head, it mixes with your thoughts until you can’t separate you from him. 

You’ve been seeing him out of the corner of your eye for a while now. A glimpse of a moving shadow here in the corners of your room… and then nothing. A breath down the back of your neck… and then nothing. A weight over your chest as you slept… and then nothing when you woke up. Each time he gets closer and bolder. 

Don’t take my name in vain, doll. Come to me. 

You are wrenched to stumble to the floor-length mirror beside the bed. Do you walk, or are you being walked? You can’t tell anymore. You can’t feel anything other than the intense burn in your left arm as Sukuna’s markings manifest onto it. 

What do you say? 

“Thank you,” you reply, sweet plaything that you are. In the mirror, you can see yourself clearly: your naked skin scratched red with your nails, your hair messed, his markings stamped onto your left, eyes possessed. 

Sweat drips between the curve of your breasts. Your cries and gasps delight Sukuna as you lean over the mirror in pain again: the markings burn into your right arm now. 

A reward for your pretty words. Don’t you want more, sweetheart?

Who says your words? Whose lips move when you speak? Who are you? 

“I do, master. I want more.” 

Your sobs are loud. But Sukuna says that this is all inside your head. And inside your head there is just you and him. No one will hear you cry and beg. 

Sukuna’s markings hurt your pretty face as they appear. It’s a familiar pain now, one that claims a promise of something more. Lines across your cheeks, chin, nose and forehead. It’s as if he’s leaving kisses. 

Look into the mirror. Who do you see?

“You.”

Who do you belong to?

“You.”

He’s pleased. Kneel, doll. 

Down on your knees you await further burn. It trickles down your neck along with your tears, it caresses down your shoulders, it flows down your chest. Stings like hellish love.  

Goosebumps. Tight breaths. A blush over your marked face. Your fingers move to wet them inside your mouth and then pinch your pebbled nipples. “Ahhh~” Sukuna enjoys you. “Master, nghh, ah~”.  

Spread.

Your thigh split, your cunt exposed to the mirror. The final marks, around your thigh and right above your mons, sear into place. You have yet to recover from the pain when a hand leaves your breast and strokes through the patch of your womanly hair to spread your cunt open. Two pairs of hellfire eyes watch you. They watch you all the time. Everywhere. Inside and out.

He doesn’t let you touch, though. You simply kneel in that position, an open hole for display, your arousal dripping down your thighs and ass, every muscle pulled taut in your body, tits heaving as you puff and gulp, skin shining with moonlit sweat. Every inch of you is under his control. 

Perfect as porcelain, my doll. His monstrous laughs sound and resound in your head until nothing else but him remains. Ryomen Sukuna. No one else. No one else understands. No one else can see. It's just you and him. 

Your heart beats so desperately. You can taste him on your tongue. You can feel his many hands all over your stinging skin. You can’t think straight but– it must be– if you could but make sense of it–Sukuna–this must be love. 

And just like that, it’s over. The markings are gone. You collapse onto the floor of your bedroom. 

I’ll be back tomorrow night.

a/n: the italised and bold words are thoughts. which are of the possessed and which of the possessor?

[luminiscented]

Please can you write part two of the smut with dom Lloyd × sub female reader... Pretty please 🙏🏻

Time well spent pt.2

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

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

Pairing: Lloyd x fem! Reader

Status: Dating

Type: oneshot

Warnings: smut, degradation, doggy style, uuhhh everything

Summary: Part 2 of the previous ask,, Your boyfriend gives you a lesson after you got too handsy with him at dinner,,,

Note: No beta :0. Sorry for the delay!! I've been getting back into Danganronpa, so that's been on my mind a bit more lately :)

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, the metal hurting your wrists. The pressure against your nails from gripping the sheets keeping you to reality as Lloyd's cock hit all the right spots, making your eyes roll back, your drool leaking down your chin, your voice hoarse as he pulled your head up, fisting your hair, making you look at yourself in the mirror on your door as he pounded into you from behind.

Lloyd held you by your waist with his other hand, his fingers leaving bruised into your delicate skin, your flesh already burning from the marks he left on you.

"Just look at this.. still gonna put your hands in my pants during dinner?"

Your throat was hoarse from gasping and whimpering, your thighs were shaking already as you started to reach your second high. Your body was rocking violently from his thrusts, your skin was sticky, your hair was a mess and just to make his payback more interesting you heard your best friend from the other side of the door.

"Hey, girl!"

A shiver ran down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat as you heard Nya's voice from the other side of the wall. Lloyd's cock stilled inside you for a moment. You looked behind you to face him, muttering a small "Please, no.." pleadingly. He started bucking his hips into you silently, reaching down to rub your puckered clit.

"Answer."

"What's up?" You called out to her as you bit down on your lower lip to silence yourself as your boyfriend abused your heat.

The green savior bend down to your ear as you whimpered from anxiety and pleasure.

"Beg me." Beg him to be slow, beg him not to make you cum, beg him not to make you embarrass yourself..

"Skylor called, invited us to go get some drinks. Wanna have a girls night?" She called out excitedly, in the meantime Lloyd was starting to progressively pound harder and harder into you, barely letting you breathe.

"Nya..Well, I-..Lloyd, please..." You whispered the last words desperately.

"Not please, I said beg." You shoved your head in the mattress as he fisted your hair tauntingly. You gripped the sheets, feeling your walls pulse around his member.

"I beg you, I beg you, please-" You whimpered incoherently as your drool soaked the sheets. Your boyfriend's pace slowed down as he yanked you up, sitting on his heels as he bounced you on his cock, placing his hand over your mouth as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

"Fuck this up and you're not getting out of bed any time soon." He whispered huskily into your ear.

"Well? Girl, what's up?" Nya called out again, almost placing her hand on the door handle.

"You go, I'll catch up with you in a few-" a deep thrust cut you off.

"Actually...my throat is kinda itchy.." You muffled the pants with your palm "I don't want you to catch it-" Your cunt was pulsing, squeezing him, your belly was all up in a twist, your thighs were shaking. Your palm was already wet from your breath, tears were prickling in your eyes. You were breaking all around him, it was too much to handle. As you heard her step away from the door, you finally gave in, gave in to the rubbing of your clit, to the throbbing cock that was destroying your insides. You started thrusting your hips back to meet his, the pleasure driving you insane, feeling every little contraction of your heat. You felt yourself reach your peak, coating his member in your sweet juices, feeling him push even harder against you, finishing up inside you shamelessly.

You panted as you leaned against his chest for support, barely able to hold yourself up. You started shakily pulling yourself from his cock, but his hands wrapped around your hips and pulled you back down on top of it.

"You didn't say "please."

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 "𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐠"

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | A night after Homecoming has you reveling in the loneliness of your mind, but a drug dealer "meandering" his way by is there to solve your issues, especially after finding a particular toy of yours.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, mentions of drugs/drug dealing, minor comments about food, feelings of embarrassment, overthinking, mentions of mean friends/exclusion, loneliness, insecurities, and explicit sexual content: fondling, one spank, edging, orgasm denial, praise kink, sir kink, oral (female receiving), rimming (female receiving), anal play/fingering, use of sex toy (butt plug), and unprotected vaginal sex.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Everyone be honest: do you actually enjoy my writing being this long, when little to nothing is happening? I don't know, I feel like I dramatically wrote this, it's kinda comical. Also, this is literally an entire Soundgasm audio I heard, but can no longer find- the agony! All script credits to them, I’ll try to link it once I do find it! And, @strangerstilinski is a lot better at Pinterest than me, so big, loveable thanks to you for the photos!

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Cold and creamy, the slab of lotion smearing its enriching silk onto the skin of your shaven legs to prevent that inevitable itch in a couple days had been the only thing to smooth over your mind in the suffocating humidity of your bathroom. But even then, the sweetening smell of coconuts and vanilla couldn’t fully appease your feelings from the nagging reality of how isolated you felt from the people closest to you. 

Quinton Reeves.

For whatever reason, retired number ninety-five of Hawkins High’s baseball conference champions of 1983, still had the popularity chokehold of high schoolers, despite the matter of being into his second year of his community college career, while brandishing the golden name tag of the multiplex theater he hadn’t left since junior year. Something about giving away free tickets to greedy teenagers, that’s what made him “cool,” though utterly pathetic in your eyes. 

But unfortunately, in the eyes of swooning cheerleaders, Quinton Reeves’ “maturity” had made his Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road the main priority of your friends’ plans, after a grueling night of sore toes and itchy fabric that was the Homecoming dance. An actual celebration, where booze monitoring or debauchery dance moves couldn’t be policed by the faculty of your soon to be alma mater. Not that it was celebrating much, those green and orange jerseys adorned by the most admired only saw scuff marks with no touchdowns; yet another year of despair for Hawkins High’s athletic department. And yet, somehow a trophy-less trophy cabinet did little to sway the big egos of the prim and proper. Funny. So now, you sigh, basking in a night of a hot shower, trying to exfoliate and shave off that icky feeling in you that you knew resided deeper than superficially. 

Because while your friends drank the night away at Quinton Reeves’ Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road, you sat forlorn with a kitchen full of purchased junk food, a bathroom full of face masks, a bedside table full of magazines, and a television stand full of movies, because despite being planned a week in advance—after you conveniently got left out of Stacy Wither’s girls night—Quinton Reeves’ Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road became more important than your girls night. 

Softened skin bundled in cozy clothes, you watched your saddened reflection in the foggy mirror of your bathroom, where a squeaking wipe to the condensation allowed for pellets of water to race down the glass. Beneath the mask of green gunk that claimed to heal those pesky bumps of raging hormones on your skin, you could still see the dampen expression of your sorrow face, where you recollected the comments of your so-called friends. 

Buzz-kill. Bummer. Borning. Rummaging through the entirety of the B section of Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Thesaurus just to really cement the fact that they wanted nothing to do with your itinerary-riddled girls night. 

You splashed your face with the wake of lukewarm water. To hell with them; your skin was glowing, body freshly cleaned, your scalp free from any solid itch of hairspray, fingers and toes wiggling with a beaming white polish, and you had an assortment of snacks to rake through while ogling at Ferris Bueller, watching him have a day off with his friends who actually care. Perhaps you should take a stroll through Chicago, and catch a Cubs game. It wasn’t anything but a state away. And if you got lucky, maybe you could find Sloane Peterson’s fringe jacket in your stack of magazines. 

Surely, Ferris Bueller was cuter than any twenty-one-year-old who still spent his weekends partying with high schoolers. 

Christ, a parked full driveway. 

Eddie, four hundred seventy-six dollars richer, Munson craned his neck, ticking his tongue at the scale of which your house stood at 11:28 p.m on this Friday night. One hesitant sniff at his shirt, and he regretted the decision of not moving Samara Lawson away any faster, when the drunken girl attempted the flirtatious endeavor of receiving that twenty-five percent discount you were always accustomed to. 

Perhaps her revenge on the dealer, himself, after he politely declined with a harsh line to his lips was forcing him to reek of booze after a tight hug to ensure her chest squished against his just enough that Samara Lawson surely thought it would deduct a dollar or two. It didn’t. 

“Fucking two stories, man…” Eddie sighed, kicking the mulch of your mother’s meticulously cared for garden, as the bricks of your home seemed to drag onward for an eternity from his five foot eleven stance (six feet if you’d ever ask). 

A towel in hand, you gently dabbed away the excess water from your face, before you turned to serums and creams to gently massage your face with, hoping to ease any worry lines your friends have cost you in the wake of disappointment. Mint flavoring of stringy floss proceeded to invade your mouth, as you plucked all you could from your teeth to triumph through your oral hygiene care. Not that it mattered, though, a party-sized bag of Doritos was awaiting its fate of being empty by the time Pretty in Pink began its course of replay. 

If Eddie Munson knew anything, it was the probable fact that your bedroom could be found from the dimly lit window on the left wing of your home, where white curtains cascaded against a potential entry to your room. In the instances in which Eddie found himself in the weekly routine of taking three steps up porch and three knocks to the door, the stained glass that adorned your front door for decorative reasons always allowed him the warped sight of you appearing from the left side of the second story, before bouncing down the stairs like Yasmin Bleeth running down Will Rogers State Beach. 

And for the brief one minute and thirty-seven seconds it took to exchange the half ounce for fifteen dollars—prolonged extensively by Eddie Munson’s attempt at small talk—Eddie lavished in the bubble that was your true element. While cheer skirts became devastatingly enticing when you wore them, something about pajama pants that pooled at your feet for the entirety of being too long with sweaters that swallowed your tiny hands in comparison to his truly had his heart cinching with the tight grasp of utter devotion. 

It became the only thing that inveigled him to make the thirty minute trek across town to deliver your demands. What a surprise it was when Chrissy Cunningham revealed the dealer, himself, never offered her home visits, after too many complaints of making the eerie journey through the woods to receive her goods had you suggesting to your friend to give him the call you did weekly. But a groaned out, “You know he’d never do that; his whole ‘I don’t come to you, you come to me’ policy,” had you perplexed in the face. He had never disclosed you of that. Huh.

“For the love of God, please just let me be right for once.” Eddie huffed, as his calloused hand collected itself around the gutters that followed alongside your home, which provided him the leverage to denounce the white window sills with dirty scuff marks of Hawkins’ muddy winter sleet. 

How more pathetic could you possibly look? A frown had permanently etched itself onto your face, where a fake smile was once plastered before Lucy Coleman informed you of the fact that no one was showing up to your scheduled ‘Homecoming’s Coming Home Girls Night.’ God, you even had a cute name for it… ish. 

Freaking twenty-one-year-old multiplex ushers. 

Giving up the bathroom for the night, a trip following the banister down to the kitchen became a dangerous game of stuffing your feelings with carbohydrates you’d eventually come to regret the next morning. Your father had made the safe assumption to ignore the ruckus of opening cabinets and crinkling wrappers that appeared behind him from the living room, because eighteen years of living with you had taught him you were always one, “are you okay?” away from exploding from the angsty teenage rage that bubbled inside you. By tomorrow, you’d eventually come to him with a sadden face and wails of a hurt tummy, and just like you were seven, he’d be there to comfort you with a hearty breakfast and open arms. 

Littered posters, rumpled white sheets of little red heart, a vanity besmirched with powders and glitters, and a heavy resemblance of laundry piles that mimicked his bedroom floor—saved from the blacks and denim, only colors and lace this time. If, for whatever reason, this wasn’t your bedroom, Eddie Munson would be heavily concerned. 

With an artillery load of snacks on hand, your father followed your huffy stomps through the living room and up the stairs. “Wanna save me some?” A joke terribly unappreciated on your part, as a scowl met his lighthearted smile.

Your bare toes dug into the carpeted steps to solidify your displeased mood. A little dramatic, and unserious, but only targeted to your flippant father, who found amusement in the little jabs that made your face crease like your mother’s. The actual hurt and betrayal that lingered within was still discreetly churning in your belly with the fretful epiphany of how lonely your friends made you feel. 

But as mentioned, that’d be a discussion for tomorrow morning, when you could cry into your scramble eggs. 

One step at a time, the view of your bedroom door—cracked, and flooding the hallway with the mustardness of lamps—came to light, as a guttural sigh left your mouth as a “fuck you” to the stir of messes you felt, pounding at your head with no mercy, as if the shitty friends you had wasn’t enough, they were capable of making you feel horrible, awful things. 

Yeah, fuck yo- “Ah!”  

Bags of chips and wrappers of candy avalanched down the doorway of your bedroom, as Eddie Munson’s already large eyes rounded to the ghastliness of yours, hunched and frozen in stance of that of a burglar, and suddenly Eddie was coming to the realization of how utterly creepy he looked.  

“Sweetpea?!”

“Hon?!”

A call from the living room, a call from your parents’ room; your mother and father’s voice boomed with concern of what could be another dramatic yell fueled by teenage temper or actual danger. But Eddie’s surrendering hands, with a look of desperate apologies that had to go unspoken unless he wanted to be caught by your parents had made it apparent that Hawkins’ local drug dealer who wandered about with a gaudy jewelry and hair you’d like to braid had little to offer when it came to harm. 

Also, the way in which his fretful finger was comically signaling to his prized lunchbox had let the understanding of business ventures finally hit you. 

“S-Sorry! Um, giant spider!” Stifling their consternation of any imminent danger, Eddie cracked a tiny smile, before treading down to your feet to pick up what he caused to drop in the first place. 

One after another, your pile of snacks were now being examined under the scrutiny of your drug dealer. “Friends coming over for a sleepover or somethin’?” 

Insulting. “No.” You mumbled with a particular sass he hadn't usually been indulged in, that had him quietly chuckling. God, him and your father would get along. 

Sat aside on your bedside table to be feasted upon when cute, unwarranted company couldn’t witness the giant devour, you quietly closed your bedroom door, and stood watching Eddie Munson awkwardly swing his arms. 

“You’re probably-”

“So, um-

“Oh, I’m sorry, go ahead.” He encouraged you with a tight-lipped smile.

You shrugged, and sat upon the edge of your bed. “I was just going to ask why you snuck into my room… at this hour.”

Eddie cleared his throat. “No, yeah, um, I realize how weird this must be, but, uh,” his eyes gallivanted to the notable furniture that adorned your bedroom—bookshelf, arm chair, desk—to avoid the knowing look on your face he’d have to be met with, because for whatever reason it was, it was now just painfully dawning on Eddie Munson how terrible of a move this was. “Well, I was just heading home, passing through the neighborhood,” lie, “and realized you weren’t at the party- Reeves’, I mean, you weren’t at Reeves’ party.”

And you truly gave the man, himself, little to offer with your subtle, “yeah,” that would force him to grab a crowbar to pry what little information he was willing to take for the night if it meant you’d just keep talking to him. 

“Just, uh, all your friends were there, bought from me n’ all, but, um, I don’t know, just kinda figured you’d be there with them since you always are.” He mustered out, as his eyes rapidly jumped about to scan the movements of your body. “And, well, didn’t see my number one customer.” 

And Eddie smiled, as your heart began pattering with stirring feelings that had your throat tightening with disbelief. “You came to check on me?” So softly spoken. 

“No, no.” Oh. How more embarrassing can this get for you? He might as well point and laugh in your face for being so lonely. “I-I, um, thought I could, uh, drop off your usual, y’know, squeeze in some extra cash.” Of course. “I saved you some.” Eddie patted his battered box. 

He watched your body deflate, and suddenly he wondered why he went that route, when it clearly caused the frown line on your face to deepen. “Right, um, thanks.” You sighed. Junk food and weed? At the very least, you could be high when crying tonight. 

One second to open your bedside drawer, but another second halted by Eddie’s voice that stopped your movements from stretching to reach for your wallet inside. “I- y’know what? Free of charge.” He propped open the metal lid to grasp onto the reserved baggie of the usual half ounce, before placing the lunchbox down to hand the substance to you. And he read you confused look quickly, as your hand hesitantly graced his fingers to take the goods. “Just, um, loyal customer, figured I should give back.” 

“Eddie, you already gave me a discount, I really don’t mind paying.” A promise to indemnify him for all that he already did. 

“Ah, well, you should, because I’ll be terribly offended if you do pay me.” He broke a smile that had your shoulders slumping with relaxation. “Just, uh, gotta let me hang here for a minute, if that’s okay with you.” 

“You want to stay here?” 

“Food, weed, and your company? C’mon, what kind of man would I be to pass up that opportunity?” And thankfully, that was enough confidence to have you shyly giggling before him. “Just a little break before I head home, I guess.”

“Had too much fun partying?” You teased. 

“Think I would’ve had more fun if you were there.” Oh, no. Pattering heartbeats, and now fluttering butterflies disrupt the peace of your tummy, as Eddie stared down at you. “Mind if I sit, uh, next to you, or over there, or wherever?”

You nodded to his request, complying by moving to the center of your bed, where you and Eddie sat back in the bundle of your rumpled duvet and pillows. A pregnant pause consumed over, as Eddie chose to linger in the silence to get a good view of the knick knacks that disheveled your room perfectly, and you admired the glow in which his profile became illuminated by. With bouncing eyes, it became the shiny embroidery of gold italics on the velvet sash that read “Homecoming Court” that paired cheaply with the tiny, plastic $3.99 Party City tiara that had dug into your scalp for the three hours you had to endure that night that caught Eddie’s attention. 

“You win?” He abrasively asked. 

“Uh, no.” You quietly answered. “Chrissy Cunningham got the bigger crown.” 

Eddie nodded along. “Figures.” He added. “She’s sweet.” 

It was your turn to nod, as the lips concaved into your teeth, while your fingers rustled with the plastic baggy in hand. “Yeah, she is.” 

“Kinda boring, though. Don’t you think?” He tossed his head back to meet his eyes upon yours. 

“Chrissy?” 

“No- well, not really, I mean Chrissy winning, y’know? Carver, too.” He clarified, as he watched your face with the suggestions he was making. “Like, why even vote- or hell, go to that shitshow if we already know who’s going to win? At the very least, throw in a curveball. Like-Like, Johnny Katowski.” Eddie laughed. 

“The kid from chess club?” You quietly giggled, as Eddie sat up.

“Yeah, him!” He declared. “How great would it be to see a kid like him winning Homecoming King, I mean, he may have bitched me out when I knocked into his lunch table and messed up his little figurines-”

“Pawns?”

“Yeah, pawns.” He laughed. “But the point is, why not give some other people the light, y’know?”

“Oh, well, Johnny Katowski is a really nice person, but I think he’d be too shy to enjoy everyone staring at him.” You quietly spoke, as you fiddled with your fingers under Eddie’s stare. “But, um, other people like you?”

“I meant other people like you.” Eddie smiled. “I’m too good to be king.” He joked, as you laughed at his cockiness. “I’m sure that dance would’ve been better if you had won, ‘s all. Just like the party.”

Your brows raised with gentle curiosity. “Oh, did you not have a good time at the dance?”

“Oh, no,” he waved you off, “didn’t even go. Dances aren’t exactly my thing, sweetheart.” 

You softly giggled. “You didn’t go to the dance, but you went to the afterparty?”

“Can’t exactly sell my supply on school premises, Y/N.” Eddie jokingly protested. “And even so, you went to the dance and not the afterparty.” Like tightening rope around your throat, your gut was hit with the simple analysis Eddie concurred. Though rather obvious, it somehow manifested worse coming out in the words of others around you who clearly saw the disconnect between you and your friends. Sure, a little more information would solidify it, but in the overworking mind of intrusive thoughts that made up your mind, Eddie’s phrase managed to concoct the notion that all of Hawkins High was now acutely aware of the fact that the ties of friendship with the girls closest to you was now being severed at the hands of no longer wanting you. “Hey, you okay?” His face lowered to catch yours, only to quickly move as you suddenly cleared your throat whilst straightening your comfortable posture. 

“Yeah, yeah, just a little tired, I guess.” You mumbled, providing him a small smile to end whatever prodding he was about to dig into. You no longer wanted it. 

“Oh.” He spoke. “Um, you want me to leave, leave you alone?”

“No, no.” You assured him. “It’s okay.” 

Another silent pause. Eddie Munson laid his cards on the table. A, he could cut the awkwardness short, and be on his way back home, sufficed with the fact that he, at least, got more words out of you than the usual “thank you, here’s your money, see you next week” routine, that he’ll be stuck with for the rest of the school year, until you inevitably leave for college- I mean, good for you, but then he would be stuck with a whirlwind of what if’s that would eat him alive, all while you got the live your prosperous life in god knows what city, where some dude who actually had to balls to make a move on you would get the honor of being called your boyfriend. Deep breath. Or B, he could just be a friend right now, because it really looked like you needed one. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” You slowly peered up at him. “I mean, like, you’ve always been kinda quiet, just, y’know, from seeing you around, but you seem a little more down now. Like mime quiet.” He smiled, eliciting a worn giggle from you. “Just feel like you have something to say, but you’re not saying it.”

“I…” you sighed, “it’s really stupid, Eddie.” Because suddenly sitting back with Eddie—whose personal life details were spread around town for the sake of small town gossip to enact who could and could not associate with the shunned of Hawkins, Indiana—your problems felt entirely too small. The last thing he needed was to be drowned by your superficial problems. The last thing you needed was to be judged for feeling the way you did, when Eddie Munson would give the reality check of a lifetime, and tell you to grow up. “Yeah, just, um, really miniscule things that I don’t, uh, wanna annoy you with.” You attempted to laugh off.  

“I asked you.” Eddie stated matter-of-factly. “You’re not gonna annoy me when I’m literally asking to hear you, sweetheart.” He chuckled in disbelief at your resigned behavior, baffled by the notion you could even believe anything about you to be bothersome. “C’mon, just say it, say it with your chest, just lay it all on me. Can’t do any good to keep it in, no?”

Eddie Munson had quite the knack of being a cute motivational speaker, as your giggles caused by his coltish self seemed to abate the linger tussle of depressive hesitancy in your mind. “It’s just… y’know, my friends, n’ all.” A hearty grunt of agreement coming from Eddie had you laughing through your words, as his face of distaste for your friends made it easier to speak. “Like, I just know they-they don’t want me- or, at least, it really feels like that. God, Eddie I rented out all these movies, bought some face masks- which are really expensive, by the way, and these damn snacks, ugh. Why-Why is some lame party more important than my plans, than me? They just don’t care! And I get I’m more quiet than them, but why does that mean I have to be left out of everything?! A-And, y’know, they always say I’m a bummer, but they don’t think about the fact that they make me a bummer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love shopping just as much as the next guy, but knit-picking everything that’s wrong with how a dress looks on me isn’t exactly going to make me an ecstatic person, y’know?!”

Eddie Munson used to be able to count the number of words you spoke to him on the fingers of one hand. And right now, that was, at least, twenty-five singular hands. And the thought had him smiling in the distance, when in actuality, that stagnant pause was an invitation for him to speak, as per a normal conversation. So it became that very smile that had your stomach flipping with ignominy at the fact that your overthinking thoughts were transpiring right in front of you: Eddie Munson thought your problems were laughable. 

A quiet “huh” was all he had to say.

“Well?” Your face, unfortunately, contorted with desperate validation. “You think it’s stupid, don’t you?” Almost accusatory, but in all seriousness, his lack of words were only cementing the scary thought that infested your head: you were the problem.

While deliberating, Eddie was really trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, he really was. But for the love of god, why were you allowing these people to have this much sway over your life? Three days ago, Courtney Keller, co-captain of Hawkins High’s cheer team, who conveniently sat a desk over in Eddie Munson’s English literature class thanks to Ms. O’Donnell’s tyrannical assigned seating, was overheard asking if Romeo and Juliet had been inspired by the 1978 cult classic Grease. Ah, yes, because William Shakespeare surely looked to a Hollywood blockbuster love story of a goody-two-shoes and greaser to write his most notable play. These were the people making you miserable?! You bombarded your letterman jacket with a bunch of tiny, obscure pins for crying out loud! Only you could make those god awful, gaudy, green jackets look remotely cool. Not to mention the fact that when looking at you from a distance—totally not creepy—Eddie could make out those funky, little doodles that indented the cover of your notebooks, before being thrown into your stuffed locker of knick knacks and stickers. Pins and doodles? Totally cool in Eddie Munson’s book. 

Okay, maybe not the most substantial aspects to determine one’s coolness, and perhaps, most wouldn’t look to the super, super senior to constitute what is, but the fact of the matter was that Eddie Munson, himself, thought you were pretty damn cool, so who the hell were some peaked-in-high-school nobodies to tell you otherwise? 

“What do I think? Uh, how do I put this?” Eddie reiterated, playing out the right words to confront you with. Though, Eddie Munson wasn’t necessarily one to speak so eloquently. “I think you’re kinda acting like a dumbass,” and your fallen face had him stuttering into recovery, “n-no, I mean, like, not that you’re dumb or anything, you’re really fucking smart. It’s just, I dunno, c’mon, you’re smart enough not to let them bother you.” He exasperated. 

“Like-”

“Like- sorry,” he interrupted, “I just mean that you’re so much better than them. Like, in every aspect, you have so much more going on than their puny life.”

“Well, according to them, I don’t even have a life.” You grumbled, knees wedging themselves against your chest to provide the perfect burial for your head. 

Eddie sighed, choosing to sit up against the headboard of your bed to get your smushed face to follow his movements. “Hate to break it to your sweetheart, but getting shitfaced at some boring party isn’t exactly the epitome of having a life. I mean, sure, maybe to the people who thrive in small town shitholes like this place,” and luckily, Eddie was able to follow along with your airy giggles, “but you and I? Hell, no, babe, nuh-uh, we were made for bigger shit than Hawkins.” He smiled.

And you smiled, too. “Like New York?”

“Like New York.”

“Ooh, or somewhere pretty like Paris or Marseille?” Your head finally perked up.

“Sure… I mean, I think I can put up with French people for you.” He joked, letting that genuine laugh fall from your lips so effortlessly. “Kinda draw the line at eating snails, though.”

You gasped dramatically. “What?! You’re telling me you’ve never tried Benny’s escargots?!” Yeah, you were way cooler than any Courtney Keller clone. 

Eddie’s head leaned back, as his hearty laughs quietly fanned your face, until the atmosphere was finally at peace with steady breaths. “I mean it, sweetheart, just gotta look them right in the eyes, use those big, beautiful things you got, and tell them to fuck right off.” 

While undeniably making your heart patter in your chest, Eddie Munson’s comment also served to become the catalyst for the most humiliating moment of your life. With your face turned away into your knees to shield him from the lovesick smile you were embarrassingly about to flash him, you terribly missed the single opportunity it would have taken to redirect Eddie’s devastatingly—for you—short attention span away from the beaming jewel that rested in your still opened drawer. 

“What’s this?” Pink and glimmering under the lowlight of your lamps, Eddie couldn’t resist the encrusted jewel lined with silver. And you hummed in question, oblivious to his findings, turning around all too late. “In your nightstand.” His hand inching closer and closer.

In your nightstand, in your nightstand, in your nightstand, echoing like a nightmare on repeat, as your eyes widened at the epiphany that Eddie Munson had found your- “Don’t touch that!” Your father’s brow cocked, wondering what movie it was this time eliciting dramatic reactions from you. But Eddie’s calloused fingers had already grappled onto the silver handle, pulling out what was beyond mortifying for you, as the lamp shade had fully revealed what concealed item contained that sparkling decoration.

“Oh, damn…” Eddie blinked, swallowing the nothingness of his throat, as a stir began to tickle his naval just below the belt. Both sets of eyes glued to the bulbous end of your plug, though Eddie’s incoming smirk seemed to differentiate tremendously to your gaping mouth of disbelief, where you sat frozen in horror at the events transpiring before you. Held like a priceless jewel, Eddie examined your personal toy with a devious smile to pair. “You use this? Like, it really goes up your ass?” 

Your internal being was screaming at the top of your lungs, all masked by the stoic features of your face that refused to accept the reality of what was happening. “Eddie.” You managed to mutter out. “Please, put that back!” Harsh whispers smacked him in the face. “Eddie, I- sorry, just please, I’ll-”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” His free hand came to secure itself around your knee, allowing that tightening breath to finally make its escape from the anxious hold in your chest. “Really, I just- it’s cool, just caught me by surprise ‘s all.”

“Okay, well, can you please just put it back, and forget this ever happened?” You pleaded, wishing him away for the night, hoping to never meet his eyes, the same eyes that made your butt plug fall under scrutiny. “I swear, it’s not mine- well, it is, but, like, I didn’t buy it, my stupid friends, ugh-”

Palms digging into the sockets of your eyes, you wielded this as your punishment, hoping the pain would come to mask the utter humiliation of Eddie finding your personal belongings. Uptight, they joked. Laughing with those giggles you learned to despise as you unwrapped the decorative paper that covered your birthday present. A book, a journal, sketch pencils, or plant, any and everything that could have sufficed as personal presents that would have been highly appreciated. But your friends seeked another personal route, with the jabbing comment of wanting you to “loosen up.” And so what, gag gift or not, the use of that particular toy came about as no one else’s business, because while the contribution came at the expense of the devastating realization that your friends were grade A assholes, there was no judgment in exploring yours- GOD.

“Hey, seriously, sweetheart.” Eddie’s hands came to pry yours away, letting his lighthearted eyes cast away the round, sadness of yours. “I just, y’know, didn’t think you were like that- or into that.”

“Oh, right, because I’m so uptight and boring.” You defensively rolled your eyes at him, before attempting to move from your spot next to him, but Eddie worked quicker to keep you in place.

He spoke earnestly. “Hey, no, don’t put words in my mouth, I didn’t say that.” Eddie sighed, jumping through the endeavors to show his action didn’t come maliciously. “Seriously, you know that, alright. Don’t think of me as being that kind of person.”

You sighed in defeat. “Eddie, this is just beyond humiliating.” And he desperately just wanted to take a hold of your adorably sullen face. 

“I don’t think it’s humiliating.” He smiled, of course, it wasn’t his butt plug in his hand. “Think it’s kinda… intriguing. L-Like, sexy.” Your eyes peered to his height, searching for the laughter of a joke you swore was about to follow. But Eddie Munson had never lost the hold of your eyes, piercing his through yours to strike that flame in your body with a burning match. 

“Really?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.” His fingers continuously fiddling with your toy in hand, as his pants tightened at the mere thought of it being inside of you. What you did, late at night, to destress, finding an escape in the pleasure of being plugged, and played with. “Knowing what you like, testing your body, yeah, sweetheart, it’s really fucking sexy.” He slyly eyed you down, as your throat went dry under his dark stare. “Wouldn’t even mind seeing it.”

“W-What?” You stuttered out, thighs tightening to rub that aching thump brewing between your legs. “Like, um-”

“If you’re okay with it, Y/N,” Eddie took over for you, “I’d like to see how you make yourself feel good.”

Your mouth gulped like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words that were lost in the tangled disarray that was your overthinking mind, beating heart, fluttering tummy, and pulsating heat. But even that gnawing anxiety couldn’t deny you the unbearable urge to have Eddie Munson ravish you. “I- right now?” You spoke so quietly, nodding to the sentiment. 

“Yeah,” his tongue drenched his lips with one swipe, “let’s just say it’s for, uh, educational purposes, what do you say? Might even, y’know, get your mind off things. Relax. Feel good. Better than that fucking weed can do.” His ringed hand took a hold of the plastic baggie from your side to place away in your nightstand- inside, where you apparently held your most precious items. 

You swallowed the nerves away, allowing yourself the selfish pleasure of Eddie’s touch to wash away the heavy troubles of your mind. You want this. You deserve this. “Please?” So delicately spoken.

“Yeah?” He sneered. You nodded. Under his gaze, you made the move onto your knees to comfortably shift out of your pajama shorts, but your hands couldn’t move further than grasping onto your waistband, before Eddie made a quick call to stop you. “Woah, woah, what are you doin’, sweetheart?”

Your mouth opened to speak, but you froze in the awkward position, and eyed him worriedly. Surely, you couldn’t have possibly read this entirely wrong. “I- you said you wanted to see, like, taking off my clothes.” You meekly explained, as the burns of a suffocating bonfire blazed your cheeks with embarrassment. 

“No, c’mon, baby, you gotta let me be a gentleman first.” Eddie chuckled. “Can’t just start fillin’ you up without kissing you. Get over here.” He patted his lap. 

Your leg thrown over his had you seated on the thickness of Eddie’s thigh, as the skin of yours nipped at the graying denim of his black jeans. Plug aside, his fingers teased at the seam of your shorts to encourage your hands to place themselves on his chest, where he saw you hesitantly reaching for. Feeling the cracking print of his worn band tee had suddenly brought you a sense of contentment, allowing you to comfortably press your weight onto his legs, a sign of snugness that had him smiling at you lovingly. Goosebumps arose in the wake of Eddie’s fingers brushing down the sides of your thighs to connect with the creasing of your knees, finding the fold as leverage to bring you forth. 

Chest to chest. Nose to nose. “You gonna give me what I’ve been dreamin’ about?” Your lips grazed the oncoming stubble of his upper lip, just seconds of subtle, bare touches that were feeding into that aching desire igniting inside both of you, before fully securing your mouth upon his. Eddie’s lips became a suction, refusing to let you go, as his hand crept with security to the back of your neck. Your tiny moans melted into the kiss, with tenuous grinds against his bulge that bent the zipper of his jeans, all too deliciously for Eddie to handle, leaving his mouth drowning with saliva that slicked your lips with the taste of Eddie Munson. “Don’t have to worry about anything with me.” He murmured into you.

A hungry “mhm” was all that could be trusted to come out of you, as your hips rolled with greed, entirely fueled by his tantalizing hand that squeezed at any fat he could latch onto. 

“Everybody deserves a break, baby.” He cemented with firm pecks that left your lips raw with the sound of spit smacking to echo into your ear. “Just let me be nice to you- let me be so fucking nice to you.” You nodded against his face, nose bumping with harsh breaths, as neither of you could find the will to pull away. “Let’s- fuck, let’s get these off now, pretty.” Eddie snapped your stretchy waistband against your hip.

Tingles coursed through your legs, as you found the strength to dig your pedicured feet into the rug of your bedroom, and stand before him. His blunt nails gently scratched down your legs to invigorate you to declothe. Your bottoms slid down, pooling at your feet, before you stepped out to have your pussy on display for him. 

“Mm.” Eddie lowly hummed, enthralled by your mound, so perfectly decorated with the hairs of your pubes, and puffed between your thighs. “Damn, you standing here without your shorts makes me wanna listen to music.” He smiled.

Your brow pointed, gifting him the sight of your confused, little face that had him chuckling at you. “What?” You asked. 

“Y’know,” he snickered, “‘cause I wanna use your thighs as headphones.”

Your girlish giggled made him feel good about his awful joke, finding all enjoyment in seeing your hands cutely hide your face from the shyness of your nature, despite standing bare in front of him. “Eddie, that’s so corny.” You laughed. 

“But I got a smile out of you, s’all I care about.” His hands came to yours to twiddle with your fingers that differed from his thick ones, lavished in the loud jewelry he brandished. “So, uh, I imagine I gotta get you ready first, y’know, wet. Don’t wanna hurt you.” You softly nodded to confirm his words, suddenly feeling the tickles in your belly moisten you, as the realization of this actually happening was becoming truer by the second. “Somewhat of a handyman, myself, can grab some DW40 or somethin’.” 

“Eddie.” You flirtatiously chastised, mewling a whine of gauche, of which you had a real talent of making cute. 

He laughed. “Look, look, there’s no… romantic or- fuck, I dunno, chivalrous way of asking someone if you can eat their ass, so can I just eat you ass, sweetheart?”  

Eddie’s unabashed bluntness had your face burning with the intoxicating sensations of humiliation and want, brewing something nasty in you that always laid dormant under the unexplored aspects of your desires. Leave it to Eddie Munson to elicit that filth with the raunchy words of his mouth that already showed you just how sinfully good it could make you feel. Just for you, you hoped. But surely, Eddie had to have obtained these skills from some practice. And you wondered if that’s what you were. Practice for the next gal to have her world rocked. Or… just thoughts. Loathsome thoughts, the very things Eddie has dedicated to clearing from your pretty head, because someone with a face like yours, and being so sweet had no reason to suffer, as you did. Practice? God, no, you were just everything. So Eddie Munson made sure to give you everything. 

“Yeah.” You tenderly answered. “Just, um- well, I already showered for the night before you came here, but, like, I can, you know, clean up-”

“Baby-”

“Just so you’re comfortable with every-”

Roughed by heavy car parts and heated guitar strings, his all but soft hands felt so gentle in yours, with fingers dancing in the intertwine of a caring hold, flooding you with security, as his eyes without word complimented the contours of your figure silently but so earnestly. Eddie squeezed your hand. Eyes searching inside you through yours. “Stop, stop.” Your nervous rambling came to halt. “I don’t care. I know you’re clean, I wanna taste you.”

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath. A squeeze back to show love to his tough hand. “Yeah, okay.”

A smile breached his face. “That’s what I like to hear. C’mon, bend over for me, pretty, let me ease you from your mind.”

With the rumpled duvet sinking with the load of your limbs carrying you to the center, the air felt cold against the oozing slickness of your bare cunt, spreading its welcome with the curvature of your back with tits hung from their weight on your chest, as you allowed yourself the liberty of resting your head upon your pillow. The falling of Eddie’s creased sneakers against your floor appeared louder than reality when blood was pumping in your ears to the overworking beat of your heart. Naked and vulnerable, several deep breaths were taken to appease that anxious thought in the back of your head of what you might look like to a boy you liked so dearly, but nothing ameliorated you better than the waking touch of Eddie’s hand against your ass. 

“Fuck.” And suddenly his voice had a way of coaxing your hands to relax against the harsh hold of your sheets. His hands rounded the globes of your ass, feeling the fat wobble beneath, when a sharp spank landed on your right cheek, forcing you to suppress the whine with a metallic bite to your lip.

You mewled out your reprimand “Eddie! My parents are still here!” Having to whisper your frustrations, because now having a taste of what an Eddie Munson spanking could do, you wanted more, but couldn’t under a parental household. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He chuckled, a complete lie he muttered just to calm you, because forcing your ass to ripple with the slam of his hand would be nothing he’d apologize for. “It really is just so spankable.” Eddie’s hands worked to massage the brief sting of his abuse that had you quietly pushing back for more. “So fucking perfect, all soft n’ shit in my hands. Nice to just fucking grab, and spread apart like that- fuck.” Fingertips digging into the dough of your cheeks had pulled your pussy lips to reveal strings of sweet arousal, and two pulsating holes Eddie was desperate to fill. “That’s so fucking beautiful.” His thumbs came to brush the hairs of your lips, inspecting what he was about to cherish on his tongue. 

His soft proclamations had you smitten with a smile that would surely strike him to his knees if flashed at him, but you contained yourself in the soft fuzz of your sweater that pooled at your breast to allow him the pleasure of running his course down your spine. Just an exploration of your body, feeling all his could while he can, because while your mind had a funny way of overthinking, his did, too; Eddie Munson was slapping himself to right your worries, because one wrong word, one wrong touch, one wrong stroke of his tongue had him rampant in the head that you’d leave disappointed in his actions. Forever. 

“Eds.” But as Eddie Munson was there to ease you, you were there to ease Eddie Munson. You’ve nicknamed his status to something closer than drug dealer. And the salacious click of your tongue had you proving to wanting to push that status further.

Eddie smiled at the possibility. Your gasps were all that could be heard next, feeling the tip of his wet tongue browse your tight hole, as your ass swallowed him in. His mouth lathered you with the spit that once coated yours, though now preparing your asshole for the stretch he’d succumb you to, lips nipping at your hole that had you salivating your moans into your pillow. A feeling all too foreign for you, allowing someone in your most intimate area, and Eddie took it with such delicacy, manifesting all his love for your ass in the mewls he shoved between your cheeks. 

It quickly found itself to be something better than lubricating your ass with the use of your slick and prodding your hole with a curious finger. Eddie had managed to bring depraved sensations with the globs of his spit and the intrusion of his tongue, forcing itself to snake past the pulses that attempted to keep him out. “Fuck, you taste so good.” Pumps and pumps of his wet muscle tickling the walls of your tight ass, as his hands pinched your body in tight grips, shaking all fat in his vicinity to do everything to be consumed by you. 

“Eddie!” You hugged your pillow, suddenly feeling the fire of your warm sweater, as your ass danced along his face. “Want you to- mm! Want you to keep doing that!”

“Sorry if I’m takin’ long, baby.” Like spitting the taste of nicotine out of his mouth, a warm glob of saliva impurely landed on you, giving leeway for his thumb to massage your squeezing hole, before submerging in with your moans to accompany. “Just really wanna make sure you’re ready. Fuck, and, um, I know I said I just wanted to see how a plug works, but can I please eat at your pussy, baby, it’s right there.” God, he could smell you enticing him, seeing your pussy hole clench completely neglected as your asshole got the fun of his touch. 

“Yes, please, Eddie, just want your mouth on me.” Hips thrusting back to chase what left, leaving him with nothing to do but smile and ravage your thighs and hips and sweet kisses. 

“Nasty, little fucking thing, aren’t you?” He proffered no time to answer, giving himself what he wanted, face becoming smeared with the gleam of your wetness. Your pussy tickled under the scratch of his light stubble on your lips, the shoving of his nose in your sopping hole, and his tongue flicking of your clit igniting every prurient urge you ever tried to satiate on your own. 

That delicious tang of your cunt infiltrated every sense within him, surrounding him in nothing but you— the hearing of you, the sight of you, the smell of you, the touch of you, the taste of you. Your raw bud throbbed under the exploitation of his mouth, sucking the shockwaves to cause your thighs to quake.

“Too much. Eds- fuck me, I can’t, s-sto- uh!” Your hand reached back at an attempt to push him away from the stampeding orgasm you were too insecure to experience him seeing. But no matter the sting of your pretty nails digging into his scalp, nothing was stopping Eddie from seeing the sheer tremble, cry, and gush he could bring your body to. 

With his thick thumb plunging into your asshole, his free hand sadistically pulled at your cheeks to expose as much of your pussy as he could, leaving you to mewl at the stretch of your skin. The sole separation of your puffy lips had him moaning at the sight; such a tight pussy hole aching for something to fill it, needing to squeeze down to spark your greedy orgasm. “Shit, fucking pussy pulsating just for me.” His tongue buried itself inside, letting his finger fall to pinch at your vibrating bud, rewarding it with the tight circles of rubs that felt unbearable. “Taste so fucking delicious!” His words were barely eligible in the crevices of your cunt, but they provided all sensation to push you into your tonic state. “Cum for me, fucking cum!”

Fucked by his tongue and finger, you no further denied him, unleashing a gush of your spent to ravish his mouth, as your holes kept him in place with their tightening hold. If it wasn't for the fault of your parent’s bedroom being on the other side of your home, they would have surely heard the vulgar corruption of sweat and sex condensing the air of their daughter’s bedroom.

“Fuc- mm, uh…” Like a Pavlov dog, your pillow had soaked itself wet from the salivation of your chewed lips, as your legs shook under the grasps of Eddie’s hands. 

“Shhh, baby, I’m gonna put it in. Let me play with it.” When limbs went numb after orgasmic bliss, the dealer knew now was the time your body would accept it. Gaping from the size of his thumb, Eddie’s gentle insertion made the process enjoyable, placing a delicate kiss to your asshole, before your plug was indulged in the tightness of your ass. Now crowned with a pretty, pink jewel to top. And you mewled, softly shaking your ass to adjust to your decoration, trying to find feeling in your shaky legs. “God, you sound so fucking cute.” He rubbed your ass with groping hands. “Don’t let that get into your head, though, I’m still in control here.” Eddie chuckled. 

Despite falling limp, Eddie’s strength found no trouble in pulling you onto his lap, once he fell back onto his calves. While a hammering bulge was fighting back against the restraints of his cuffed belt, you couldn’t deny the fact that he didn’t feel the satisfaction of a bursting orgasm, yet your mind pondered on the reasons as to why his heart was pounding so profusely against your spinning head. Your hand splayed against his chest, as you peered up at him. “Are you nervous?”

Eddie Munson swallowed thickly. And ignored you completely. “You’re a really dirty fucking girl for playing with yourself like that all alone.” His hands pinched at the sweaty skin of your back, as your face contorted with the creases of confusion at his now unnecessary comment. “But… now you have me, though, right? Gonna play with me always?” Though, any confidence Eddie previously had speaking to you that way was gone under your scrutinizing stare, and you could hear it in the slight quiver of his voice. Because Eddie Munson wasn’t trying to dirty talk you. No, Eddie Munson was trying to seek your desire to want him around. 

And you gave it to him. “Yeah.” Free of any sexual suggestion, because Eddie knew you saw through his assertive facade, piercing at his vulnerability and choosing to accept it through the deep breath of relief of his nose. 

With his tongue swiping at the surrounding areas of his lips, you assisted his clean-up, thumbing at the gleam that coated his chin, subsequently letting the burden of his heavy head fall into your gentle hands. “Y’know, I see you a lot at parties- like, more than just us doing deals, I see you.” He cleared his throat. “And I’ve had this thing. This, uh, really big thing for you for a long time now, Y/N. A-And I know it’s your friends dragging you to these parties, but, I dunno, when I see you you just look so… meek, I guess, but like in a good way. Like, this whole elegance you got to you.”

Both you and Eddie stumbled into soft giggles at his boyish articulation, trying to grasp the concept of feelings from a man who’s never been graced with the excitement of committed reciprocation. But there was one thing for certain, Eddie Munson was damn sure trying this time. “Wouldn’t necessarily call myself elegant.” You chuckled. 

“No, but you are.” He earnestly protested. “Y’know, you show up, not even wanting to, not saying a word, just keeping to yourself, and everyone just looks at you- notices you.” 

In a town of Stacy Withers, Chrissy Cunninghams, Lucy Colemans, and Courtney Kellers, that felt like a big, fat lie smeared in your face. You brushed the stinging sentiment with quiet laughters of pain. “No one notices me, Eddie-”

“I notice you, Y/N.” He urged you to see, hands molding onto your body for fear of you not seeing what he gets to so lovingly see. His lips landed upon your cheek, brush-like strokes, dragging his affection to the canvas of your face, before a devout kiss seared your mouth to his. The swelling muscles of his arms squeezed to tighten around your back, savoring your being, and exploding when your sweater-clad arms mimicked his fervor around his neck, experiencing first-hand what was Eddie Munson’s first requited love. “Just to be here,” his lips spoke against yours, pausing to kiss away the ache that fell constant when your tongue wasn’t dancing upon his, “playing with you,” your mouths clicked with the slobber of his spit, ridden with the tart honey of your pussy juices, the same ones beginning to sog the stitching of his jeans, “just cracking that armor you got on, it’s heaven on Earth for me.” Your lips strung apart, as your thumbs soothed over his chasing movements, caressing the beating pulse point of his neck. But where you smiled, Eddie continued to try to kiss your upturn beam. “You’re not kissing me, why aren’t you kissing me?” He whined, trying to pull a pucker out of you. “Just smiling, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” giggling against his hungry lips. 

“As pretty as you are smiling, I need you kissing me, baby.” Eddie playfully admonished with a hefty squeeze to your hip in a puerile way of presenting his frustration. 

“It’s just,” late nights of perfecting the solos of various guitar sequences allowed your fingertips to skim over the delicate purpling of his under eyes, “I don’t know, Eddie, the night has just been really shitty, and you’ve somehow managed to make it a lot better.”

“Probably because I gave you one hell of an orgasm.” This time you’ll allow his refusal to accept the complimenting sincerity of your words, masking the mush of giddiness inside him with a comment of sex, because at least this one made you laugh in his hold. 

“And other things, Eddie.” But there you were to peel that mask away, and dump your kindness of wanting him all over his walls. “You gave me other things.”

A building appreciation for yourself. 

The cynicism of his eyes jumped hurdles to search for any fibbery he may have found himself trapped into, but you were so warm. To the touch, your skin sent his hands aflame with sparks of desire from the true benignity of your being. Warm eyes, warm lips, warm heart, working to secure a blanket of security over his shoulders from the sheets of coldness both of you have been offered by those who cared too little for your wellbeing. “Y/N, I need to tell you something.” His mouth moved without thought, as his body grew sore of ignoring the very thing it wanted: you. “Look, I’m just gonna jump right in, and say it, I want you to be mine- I want to be your boyfriend.” His eyes bounced around the brightening features of your face, creasing with lines to make room for the smile that enamored his chest. “But first I gotta prove to you.”

“Prove to me?” You gently prodded, mind working overtime to control your hands from balling the fabric of his shirt from uncontained excitement. 

“See, I kinda just got this thing in my head, y’know, that I gotta prove my worth to you-”

“Eddie-”

“No, I know it sounds bad, but really, it’ll just be for my own peace of mind.” He assured you with the earnestness of his voice soothing the concern you were about to tackle to confirm Eddie Munson was, in fact, enough. “I know it might not be the biggest deal to you, but I just wanna be able to take care of you- like, please you. Make sure I can make you cum.” He whispered into your face. 

You wondered where he was for the last five minutes, somehow forgetting the euphoria he had just pulled from you with the sole use of his tongue. “Didn’t- I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but didn’t you already… just do that?” 

“I mean make you cum l-like couples do.” He bashfully iterated, eyes falling down, as if he hadn’t spoken the dirtiest things to you before. Though, perhaps, the beginning stages of what would blossom into a loving relationship had the boy suddenly at the age of fourteen, wondering when that momentous occasion of a first girlfriend would come. Having sex a year later surely doubled the probability, though Nicole Summers wasn’t exactly one that stuck around to find out. “Won’t exactly feel too great if the only way I can get my girlfriend off is by one single way. Let me prove to you that I can be good for you.”  

“Quite presumptuous of you to believe I would even say yes to you asking me out.” You’d a hundred percent say yes. 

Eddie smiled, before the strength of a sole arm entrapped you soundly against his chest, as his torso dropped forward to lay back against the plushness of your bed. Before a sharp moan could elicit the concern of your parents, Eddie brought forth his mouth to yours, once his bulge caught a steady rhythm against your buzzing clit. “Don’t think,” his hot breath concocted with yours in the heated makeout, “I got to see your tits.” Too neglected for your liking, your sweater found itself bunched under your chin, under glowing lamp lights that shadowed your peaked nipples. “Fuck me, pretty girl, just too,” a kiss to your valley, “ fucking,” a kiss to your breast, “perfect.” Eddie Munson swallowed your pert bud whole. 

“Mm, that’s so nice.” You quietly mewled, with polished fingernails delicately weaving through the tousled curls of his head, sweaty and dampened from a whirlwind of nightly activities. 

His hands groped at the fat, squeezing them together to tongue at your nipples, harsh flicks that had you arching into his face. “Just too fucking beautiful for this world.” He nuzzled into your chest, his nose flaring hard to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume, crisp and clean just for him to lose himself in. 

“Are you going to fuck me now?” A guttural groan burrowed its way out of Eddie’s throat, crawling forward to shove kisses along your cheek that had your head pressing into the softness of your pillow.

“Not gonna worry about your folks?” When the Indianapolis Colts saw a hopeless comeback of being seven to twenty-seven against the Dallas Cowboys, your father knew to save him the anger of witnessing another pass interference with a click of a button that blackened the screen; a definitive call for the night. The heavy steps of your father’s movements followed along the stairs, wood creaking with the shift of his weight to bring him amongst the bedroom doors of the second floor. One look at your door. As every night would go, a quick knock at your door would allow your father entry into your room, hopefully catching you in that green gunk of a facemask you’d like to smear on your face, to provide your father the perfect joke to hear that loving, “dad, stop!” But given the crotchety tone of your previous engagement, your father guessed he’d follow the the statement if his gifted ‘#1 DAD’ mug, and leave you for the night. Embarrassing you will have to wait for Saturday morning’s event. And off to bed he went. 

You hadn’t even realized your luck, allowing Eddie Munson to bruise your neck, oblivious to the predicament you slid by. “We can be quiet.” You pleaded, running your legs along his to feel the scratch of his itchy jeans, desperate to receive any and all sensations against your exfoliated skin. 

“Open your legs for me more.” Your thighs pried open to his body, sanctioning him the authority to squeeze all he could to bring lines of tingles to your core. “Good girl, feels so fucking good to finally be touching you. Your plug in good?” Sitting snug between your cheeks, where a sticky stream of your cream pooled down your ass, bringing an extra shine to the gem of your plug. 

“Mhm, feels nice.” You dug into the sheets of your bed, hips pivoting forward to the chase of Eddie’s thumb massaging into the dough of your inner thighs, hoping they’d make their move to examine your pussy with the prying of his curious fingers. 

“Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable ‘s all.” He mumbled. A hand invading the crease of your thigh and hip had him softly chuckling to himself; quiet guffaws of disbelief to the radiating fever warmth that was congenial from the suffocation of your meaty thighs.

Your bitten lips twisted into a pout. “Why are you laughing at me?” 

“Not laughin’ at you, baby.” He laughed. Eyeroll. “Just love that pussy heat, y’know?” Eddie callowly smiled, bringing forth a burn to your cheeks, as your watched wrinkles of titillation annex his face from the sheer look of your natural body. “I dunno, guess it kinda makes my head a little bigger knowing she’s waiting for me.” He became delirious on the hypnotics of your moving hips. “Fuck, want me to touch you, pretty girl?”

You were falling desperate under his command. Your nails dug their crescent shapes into his hand, skin flooding with the pumping veins from the stinging rush, an urgent call to have him finally give in. “Please, Eddie, been waiting too long.”

“Ah-ah, have some fucking manners first, not gonna get it that easily without asking nicely.” He tortuously tantalized with the coming of his hand beginning to lightly rake the wisps of your manicured pubes. A whine of despair was all he was met with, nothing but your hips attempting to gyrate his hand to your needy clit. “C’mon, don’t get all greedy on me, baby, remember this is about you, you’ll get it all eventually. Just need you to feel everything as much as possible. Let me just rub the outside; up and down.” The weight of his fingers interfered with the glue of your slick, now pulling at your pussy lips to showcase the rawness of your cunt, strung by webs of your syrup that had him itching to shove his tongue in once more. “And maybe, I’ll just take my finger,” his pointer, pushed out ever so lightly to tickle the wet skin below your pussy, before the rigid callouses dragged up to spark the nerves of your puffy labia, catching a rub to your erecting clit, “and touch you whenever I feel like it.”

Your breath became caught in strings of gasps. “Eds.” Purring with delight at the tease of his finger brushing at your impulses of sensation. “Please, please, can I have you?”

“Just wanted to see that sexy fucking smile you do when you get all excited.” Eddie admired, reveling in the twinkle that bedecked your face to light up from the touch of his fingers. “You are so fucking hot, man.” Mumbling to himself, his head refuting the belief of this being reality. But your body moved with the liveliness of feelings, your voice rang with melodies of harmony, and your smell infused his skin with the sweetness of sugar and oils; no matter how hard Eddie Munson’s eyes welded shut with dubiety, there was no dying the realness of a woman before him. “Wanna play a little game with you, baby.” 

“A game?” Your voice softly upped in review of him, as he climbed over with a heavy hand turned soft to pet your head with loving strokes that matched the brief attachment of his lips to yours. 

“Yeah, just a little one, nothing to worry about, just love seeing your face n’ everything.” He vaguely detailed, letting your mind lose itself to the softness of his peppered kisses. “First, you gotta any names you wanna call me: master, sir, daddy?” 

Eddie watched your eyes shy away from his brashness, adorably being unable to endure the heat of his words. “Um,” your teeth pinched into your lips, “I-I think sir’s kinda nice.” You timidly admitted, only ever divulged by the encouragement of Eddie’s affection. 

And he smiled against your lips, dragging his devotion to your cheek, temple, and forehead. “I think it’s kinda nice, too.” From you? Anything would have his body stirring. Eddie abruptly sat up from your body, his mangled hair briefly frizzing from the overhead reach of his shirt, that left his torso blank of any band tee he’d previously adorned. His abdomen came to light as a soft tummy lined with the harsh crevices of flexed muscles in a strive to show off a physique he thought would look best for you. But your warmhearted hand relaxed the strain of his stomach with a single stroke to his naval, sending shockwaves with every graze against his happy trail. 

In the midst of pulling away the worn leather belt from the clinking metal buckle, your words swiftly halted his movements. “You’re very pretty, Eddie.” 

His head bowed, soft laughter coming through the nostrils of his nose, as he shook his head with a smile that adamantly won over his face, despite a hefty attempt of biting his lip to keep it down. “Feel like I should be the one telling you that, look at you.”

“Would it be so wrong for you to hear the truth, too?” A smile so pure, it shot straight to his heart, causing a speed bump to the rhythmic beating of his chest. 

His cheeks darkened with vulnerability. “I- yeah, you’re really about to fucking get it…” both of your soft laughter mingled into the air, as he tugged the length of leather from his belt loops, “…and thank you.” His lips pressed to your inner knee, whilst undoing his pants. But then, he paused. Eddie Munson had not even the slightest idea of how easily you were able to undress before him. Perhaps, it simply fell down to the principle of the matter that Eddie Munson was already head over heels crazy about you before you ever spoke to him. He’d like to thank Chrissy Cunningham- or, actually, whatever stress it was she was enduring for being the sole reason why she went seeking him that fateful Friday afternoon. Now, he understands the grossness of that sentiment, but, truthfully, as an aspiring entrepreneur, the problems of your clientele surely become the profit of your business. And while he wasn’t exactly looking to better this capitalist venture, it did, in fact, lead him to you. Standing in the back, watching reddening leaves fall to the ground, under the guise of being your friend’s lookout. C’mon, that rotting bench hadn’t seen company for years, Chrissy Cunningham was merely weary of his presence and needed backup. But gladly so, as for once, someone’s uncalled for judgment allowed him the privilege of staring at their pretty friend. So excuse him for suddenly falling insecure about the look of his body. You were quite literally everything to Eddie Munson. Would he be for yo-

“It’s okay.” What? “I want to see you, Eddie.” You smiled so perfectly. 

Without notice, stirs of anxiety turned into fluttering butterflies in his belly. And Eddie Munson smiled back. Following the squeaks of your bed, he headed off, taking a hold of what was his pants and boxers into a tight grip, and finding the confidence to rid himself of any further clothing. Springing from confinement, seven inches of weight bobbed against his naval with a smack, as you relished in the sight of his cock with bulging veins that strained to pump blood to his scarlet, mushroom tip. Any concerns about the appearance of his area abruptly left his rampant mind, after witnessing the dragging pull of your plump lips opening for your mouth to widen in awe. Your thighs rubbing in heat, a desperate attempt to satiate that rubescent, needy clit that thudded with tingles from the mere sight of him naked. 

Yeah, nothing to worry about- in fact, quite a large inflation to his ego. “Decent enough, huh?” His lips twisted with a sneer. 

A deprived “mhm” moaned its way out of you. 

Rushing to place himself between the warmth of your legs, Eddie positioned his cock to sit heavy against your tummy. His large balls of cum became immersed with the slick of your pussy, as his velvet skin rubbed against your drenched folds to fully show you the length of his member; nudging it to your belly button, whilst the chaos of his pubic hairs titillated your thighs. “This game, baby, the only thing with it is that you can only cum when I tell you.” His eyes kept a close watch of your rippling stomach with every smack of his cock he caused. “You understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” You sighed, becoming antsy with the tickle on your abdomen from the sheer weight of his dick. 

“That’s the right fucking answer,” he darkly chuckled, “just gonna start playing with you, pretty girl.” His hand directed the fat tip of his cock to butt at your clit, forcing your hips to jolt awake with the electricity of pressure against your sensitive nub. “Just like that, you fucking like that, don’t you?”

“M-More, please.” You clawed at your bed sheets, stressing the material with every rub of his length against your cunt. 

“Nah, baby, gonna treasure this, take it nice and slow.” He agonized, sucking in breaths with every tense of his balls, as you brought pulsating tingles to his body by doing nothing, but laying pretty. “Fuck, you really do something to me, whatever you got going on is doing a fucking number on me, sweetheart.” Saying all the right things to you, his words shot straight to your pussy, making it impossible to hold back your soft moans. “Honestly, baby, not really one to talk about my feelings, I guess, but you- everytime I come by knockin’ on your door, I just get these nerves n’ shit. Gotta talk to myself, too,” he husky laughter pierced so sexily, “honestly, like ‘damn, gotta pull yourself together, can’t let her pretty ass see you like this.’” Eddie’s cock dragged through your folds, separating strings of wetness to marinate on your raw cunt. “And I just wanted to kiss you for the longest, wanted to be right here playing with this fucking pussy.”

“I want you, fuck.” You heaved, hips chasing an itch he refused to have you revel in. “Always want you, Eddie.” 

His cock spurred excitedly. “Shit, sweetheart, can’t say things like that to me, fuck.” Eddie’s tip ran through your slit, the swollen head now prodding at your hole, just a first glimpse of the stretch you were about to endure. “God, just having me lay here with you, seeing you, hearing you, touching you, it’s the greatest thing ever. Does that feel good baby? Like me teasin’ you?”

“Yes, sir, please, Eddie.” You hummed, trailing a high that was building too slowly for your liking. “Want more.”

“Mm, really like hearing you say that, love your pretty, little voice.” Eddie’s free hand dropped by your head, supporting his weight to hover over you, letting his unruly hair cascade a waterfall around you. “As a matter of fact, you should speak up. Tell me you wanna be a good girl for me.” So close, his cock was barely grazing the entrance of your cunt, all before tortuously leaving your warmth to dissipate that spark in your body. And up above, Eddie was enjoying the show of your contorting face of frustration. “C’mon, you can say it.”

“I wanna be your good girl, sir.” You pleaded, taking a grasp around his supporting wrist to help find your rhythm against his teasing dick. “I promise, I’m your good girl, just let me have it.”

“Yeah, you wanna be my good girl.” He mocked, aligning his slick head of precum and your arousal to your clenching hole that oozed more wetness. “Here’s the thing, you’re already mine, so who am I to deny you- mm, fuck!”

Falling chest to chest, your nails clawed up his back at the burning sensation of his girth breaching your seizing walls. Eddie’s forehead dropped to yours, as the mixture of both your hot breath confined what little space was left between your gaping lips. “Slow, slow!” You urged him, as his bangs crumpled against your head with a fervent nod to listen to your pleads. Every clasp of your cunt had him harshly breathing through his nose, fighting the onslaught of sensations that were subsequently bringing him closer to the edge far faster than anticipated. “Uh! Fuck, you’re so big!” Inch by inch, your body was giving way to the pleasure of his deliberate intrusion, welcoming him in with a warm hug from your cunt. 

Nearly lacerated by his nails, Eddie hoped the balling of his fist would defuse the overwhelming feelings churning in his chest, but suddenly being submerged balls deep into your body had his mouth spewing with all he felt for you. “Fuck, you really don’t understand what you do to me.” He whined against your face. “First time I saw you, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I don’t really get in situations like these often- hell, fucking ever, but you! I just had to do whatever I could to get you. Honestly, it kinda pissed me off.” Eddie breathlessly chuckled against your lips, driving his greedy hips to drag his cock along your walls. “Holy s-shit, fuck, how the hell was I letting some girl have this affect on me. But you’re not just some girl, Y/N. God, mm, you’re fucking everything.” 

Leave it to Eddie Munson to confess his feelings from the tightness of your pussy. 

“Eddie!” His cock found no trouble in abusing that spot within you that had your legs occupying his waist like a lifeline, toes curling from the rapture that trembled your legs. Your hands forced his head to your lips, swallowing each other's moans to consume the desperation of night. Where spit messily slicked your lips, a ring of cream surrounded Eddie’s cock that smear the wetness against your pussy. 

“Fuck, just wanna do everything for you.” His lips dragged against yours, bodies bumping with every pound of skin slapping Eddie caused with his dick. “Got your holes all plugged up, nasty, little fucking thing.” Pursuing that desperate high, your pelvis began meeting his with an impassioned gyrate; the swollen head of his cock bruising your g-spot, all whilst the tickle of his pubes itched at your inflamed clit. “You wanna come, baby- fuck, I know you do!” His stomach clenched with every squelch your pussy created under the squeezing hold of his dick’s continuous reentry. 

Licking and rubbing your cunt to a tender mess of cum and slick had your second orgasm of the night pummeling quickly under Eddie’s intrusive cock, and you were pleading to see white stars from the fucking of his body to yours. “Yes, please, please, sir! Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna- mm!” 

Sweat coated your rubbing bodies together, where you nipples abraded against his to have you wailing with all sensations, yanking that orgasmic string within you. “Squeezing down on my fucking cock, yeah, baby, you can cum, but not until I say so.”

Eddie Munson was torturing himself when his body stilled inside you, but seeing your desperate face twist into a crying mess was far better than dumping inside you within the first five minutes. “No, no, sir, please!” Your hips attempted to fuck themselves deeper onto his cock, but Eddie’s harsh hand imprinted itself to the fat of your curves, holding your down from any endeavors to cumming. 

“Hey, hey, listen, listen, sweetheart.” He took a hold of your jaw, forcing your eyes upon his. “Remember, you’re my good girl; gotta be good for me.” All along this is what Eddie wanted, turning your mind into deprived mush to cloud those overcrowding thoughts that hurt your little head. And he watched it transpire before him, seeing you desperately nod to his words, completely at his mercy with full trust to care for you. “I know I’m being mean, baby, but you gotta believe me when I say this will feel so good.” His puffing breath fanned your face. “I’m so proud of you, so proud of you getting all that shit off your chest, so proud of you letting me play with your holes, being this perfect, dirty girl for me. Now, I want you to come, okay, just gonna play with your pussy-”

“Ah, fuck!” Your body jolted under the tight, circling rubs of his rough fingers against your clit. 

“Sh, sh, don’t want your folks disturbing us, baby.” His devilish sneer taunted your face. “Just tell me you wanna come, okay? Say it.”

Your lips incoherently spewed out. “Iwannacomesir-” 

“Slower, pretty girl, slower.” Eddie demanded, with each pinch to your buzzing pearl fueling that plucking string of hot cum inside you to burst. 

“I want to cum, sir.” Your trembling hands secured his hot cheeks to bring him forth, as your lips whispered against his with tiny kisses. “I… want to… cum, sir.”

Eddie smiled against your lips, before planting a fat sucker on them. “Good, now shut the fuck up, and you better listen to me.” With your heads bound closely, all of the world became lost in the homey environment within Eddie’s curtain of hair. Where his two-in-one shampoo clashed with your coconut hair mask, and the smell of sex fermented the humid air of hot breath, Eddie began hammering his cock into your sopping pussy, with spurts of wetness jumping to souse your connecting bodies. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” He huffed. “Anyone can see that plain as day- so fucking incredible. You deserve the fucking world, deserve to be taken care of, and I swear, baby, I swear on my life to be that man.” Eddie moaned into your ear, his wet lips exciting every nerve in your body with hot whispers, that had you mutilating his skin with streaks of unbearable red. “Just feel me playing with you, pleasing you, only you, pretty girl- f-fuck! Tell me I’m yours, fucking tell me.” 

Your legs tightened around his backside, driving the heels of your feet to the tiny plush of his ass, forcing him deeper into your cunt. With your hands caressing the beauty of his face, you managed to find the strength to open your screwed shut eyes, and meet the round ones that were pouring desperation into yours. “You’re mine, Eddie.” Spoken so delicately from the hoarseness of your throat, whilst the filthiest actions were occurring to your body. “You’re all mine, Eddie. No one else. Just you.” Sealing it with a searing kiss that had him sobbing groans onto your tongue, in a heated mix with your whines. 

“When I tell you, cum for me, okay, baby? Ten.” His heavy hand forced a grip to your leg, hiking them higher for an angle unbeknownst to you, leaving you to squeal into the crevice of his neck. “Nine… eight… seven, love how fucking greedy your body is, almost there, my pretty girl.” Eddie’s balls were seizing with twitches, as his engorged cock was building up a hot load that was on the precipice of flooding you. “ Six, look right at me, five… four, wanna see your pretty face when you finish.” Too much pressure was mounting on your cervix, as your body began losing itself to the thrills of an impending orgasm. “Three… two, tell me you wanna cum.”

“I wanna cum!”

“Louder!”

“I wanna cum on your cock!” Singing it to his ears with cries of harmony had his body cramping with pleasure. 

“One, fucking do it, cum for me!” Your back arched with the snap of your orgasm, a scorching gush of creamy white invading his cock with unfathomable squeezes and squelches. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… f-fuckkkk!” A hose of his sizzling seed fucked itself into you with stuttering hips that had you wailing into his buff shoulder, nails bloodying his alabaster skin with reds of passion, as your bodies convulsed in the aftershocks of pure hedonism. “T-There you go, fucking ride it out, sweetheart, ride it out with me.” His muscles flexed under the intense explosion of his bust; beads of musky sweat falling down the length of his body to infuse the creamy cum that matted his pubic hair. “God, you’re so fucking sexy, so fucking beautiful.” 

“Auugh!” Your fogged mind whined in the lost stars of white that flashed your vision. 

“It’s okay, my baby, just relax, you’re alright.” Eddie brought you back to reality, peppering kisses of adoration along your perspired skin, cementing every word he ever uttered to you in the heat of the moment. A brief cry of discomfort from his cock pulling out had him comforting your body with gentle caresses, all while witnessing the artistry that was a pearly concoction of both your hot cum painting the pink jewel of your butt plug with a filthy iridescent. “Fuck, you really are fucking mine, Y/N.”

Your soft voice ripped through the sounds of heavy breaths, as your body felt like waves of crashing water under his touch. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

You weakly laughed. “Yeah, you can definitely be my boyfriend.” As if that was ever a question.  Your gentle mewls echoed into his ears, as his thick fingers made the move to smoothly twist out your butt plug from your needy hole, that felt the need to keep its clamping clutch onto it. Eddie swore under his breath, falling in love with the winking gape of your asshole. While a clean-up was surely at hand, your beckoning voice had him dropping your toy to lay by your side. His lips found solace in the company of your own, as he brought your sticky being of sweat and cum close, snug under the protective arms of his body. “Yeah, I’m your boyfriend, and you’re my girlfriend.” Eddie Munson’s lips upturned to a damning smile that had you clinging to his closeness for the rest of the night.

[forest-hashira]

Cool Touch

hello hello everyone!!! i know i just updated Noble Blood a few days ago, but the mental image of this one wouldn't leave me alone, so i went ahead and wrote it. this is the first of my entries for @threadbaresweater's "summertime (and the livin' is easy)" collab event! my chosen prompt for this was gojo + sunburns. not much happens here, but nonetheless i hope you enjoy it! also as usual this is not proofread at all so please forgive any mistakes haha

read on ao3 | wc: ~1.9k | cw: gender neutral reader, ambiguous relationship (can be read as romantic or platonic!), kinda implied autistic gojo (mentions of sensory issues & such), sunburns (obviously), that's pretty much it!

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding.”

Your words earned you a glare from Satoru as he stood in the doorway. His sunglasses had slipped down his nose as he looked at you, and for once, the dark lenses stood out less against his skin than the stark blue of his eyes.

“Do I look like a liar?” he retorted, opening the door a bit wider so you could come inside.

“More like a lobster,” you said as you stepped around him, before you could even really think about the words. “Sorry! Too soon, I guess,” you added quickly, dancing away from him as he reached out, probably to pinch you in retaliation for your comment on his appearance.

“Yeah, too soon,” he grumbled, shutting the door. “I don’t think I slept at all last night, I was so uncomfortable.”

“That’s what you get for not reapplying sunscreen like we told you to.”

“‘We’?” Satoru asked indignantly, dropping down to sit in one of his dining table chairs as he looked up at you with wide eyes. “Who else told me to reapply?”

“Me, for starters.” As you spoke, you set the shopping bag down on the table in front of you and began to pull out the things Satoru had asked for: multiple bottles of aloe vera gel, four flavors of ice cream, a box of popsicles, ice packs to be stuck in the freezer for later, and a few large bottles of water – your own addition, not something Satoru had requested. “And Suguru, Shoko, Kento—”

“Nanamin??”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “He does actually kind of like you, you know. And we’ve talked about the interrupting thing.”

“Right,” he sighed. “Sorry. I’ll put the money in the jar later.”

“Good,” you hummed. You tried to hand him the receipt from the drug store then, but he waved you off.

“Just leave it on the kitchen counter when you grab spoons,” he told you, leaning against the back of his chair, though h e quickly sat up straight again with a hiss when his skin made contact with the wood. “Hurryyyy,” he whined as you walked off. “I’m literally going to die if you’re not slathering me in gel in the next five seconds.”

“First of all, why the fuck did you have to phrase it like that?” You opened the silverware drawer, grabbing two spoons for the various ice creams you had gotten. Before you left the room, you stuck the receipt to the fridge with one of Satoru’s kitschy little magnets – you were pretty sure the one you grabbed was some sort of fish, but it was a little chipped and faded, and you didn’t bother to look at it for too long before you were walking away again. “Second of all, you are not going to die, you’re just uncomfortable.”

“And itchy. Soooooo fucking itchy.” Satoru was quick to snatch one of the spoons from you, already having the pint of cotton candy flavored ice cream in his lap. 

You wrinkled your nose at the sight, never quite able to understand how he was able to enjoy the flavor, but you said nothing as you came to stand behind his chair. Setting your own spoon on the table, you picked up one of the bottles of aloe gel.

“This might be cold on your skin,” you warned, though he barely acknowledged your words with a hum, his mouth too full of pink and blue ice cream for him to be thinking about much of anything. With a shrug, you squeezed some of the gel out into the palm of your hand, then set the bottle aside. You took a moment to rub the gel between your hands to warm it up a bit, then placed your hands on his tomato red shoulders.

Immediately, Satoru jumped, making an almost hilarious squawking sound as he moved away from your touch. “What the hell?” he demanded, ice cream and spoon still clutched in his hands. His eyes were open wide and his sunglasses had slipped all the way down his nose, seeming to cling to his face for dear life. “Warn a guy next time!”

More than a little shocked by his reaction, you blinked dumbly at him for a moment. “But… I did warn you?” Your brows furrowed as you spoke, and you cocked your head a bit as you looked at him, more confused than anything else.

“You definitely did not,” Satoru argued, now scowling at you.

“I said ‘this might be cold’,” you reminded him. “That counts as a warning.”

“But you didn’t say it would sting!”

Though part of you wanted to roll your eyes at Satoru for his dramatic reaction to the feeling of the aloe gel on his skin, you managed not to; you were well aware of how jumpy and antsy he could be in moments of vulnerability – physically or emotionally – and that generally he didn’t take well to perceived judgment during vulnerable times. Instead, you took a deep breath before apologizing.

“I’m sorry for not warning you about that part, too, Toru. If you’d like to come and sit back down I’ll put the gel on your sunburn. It’ll help you feel more comfortable in your skin, for at least a little bit.”

He eyed you for a moment longer, and you were certain if he had cat ears, they’d be in airplane mode as he decided whether to trust you again or not. Eventually, he let out a somewhat exaggerated sigh, then walked back over to the chair you still stood behind. “I appreciate and accept your apology,” he said quietly, settling down and taking another bite of his cotton candy ice cream. 

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched him, glad that he was comfortable enough with you to be vulnerable, and that he trusted you to take care of him this way. He’d come a long way since you’d first met; he’d never been standoffish, really – he was the life of every room he walked into, party or not – but he’d kept anything he deemed “too personal” close to his chest, not wanting to give anyone a reason to dislike him. He’d been slow to open up to you, but once he’d realized you could be trusted? He’d become your closest friend, constantly in your space whenever you were in the same place. It had surprised you, the sheer amount of love he was capable of, when he deemed someone worthy – and trustworthy – enough to show that side of himself, but you felt honored to have his love directed at you.

Even if he was dramatic and difficult sometimes.

“Thank you,” you told him. “Now, I’m about to touch your back and shoulders again, alright? It might be cold and it might sting again, but hopefully not much.”

“‘Kay,” he replied around a mouthful of his frozen pink and blue treat, and you shook your head at him, a small chuckle escaping you.

Doing just as you’d said, you placed your hands on Satoru’s shoulders again, spreading the gel over as much of his skin as you could reach from your current angle: across the tops of his shoulders and down around to his collarbones; up his neck to his undercut; back down below his shoulder blades, rubbing it all in and doing your best to make sure it wasn’t layered on too thick, knowing that would aggravate his sensory issues.

Satoru tensed and shuddered for a fraction of a second when your hands came in contact with his fried skin, but he quickly relaxed again, letting you do all the work for him, since the worst of his burn was on his back and shoulders, where he couldn’t get a great angle to rub the gel on himself.

Grabbing the bottle of gel, you squeezed a bit more of it out into your palm. “I need to get the rest of your back,” you told him. “Could you lean forward a little more so I can reach it better?”

“Sure.” He did as you asked without complaint, even setting aside the now empty pint of ice cream and reaching for one of the water bottles you’d bought, twisting off the cap and taking a large sip of it.

“Someone’s thirsty,” you couldn’t help but tease. It was so rare to see Satoru drink anything that wouldn’t give anyone else a cavity just from looking at it that you had to make note of it any time it happened.

He grumbled at your words, but if he blushed, it was impossible to distinguish from the red that already tinted his cheeks. “I am thirsty.”

“I know,” you soothed. “That’s why I bought those. I always get really thirsty when I get a sunburn.” You uttered another warning before placing your gelled up hands further down his back than before, once again working the substance into his skin as well as you could. From the new angle, you could tell the burn ended where the waistband of his swim trunks had been, so you didn’t let your hands wander any places they weren’t needed. Though you didn’t need another reason to keep your hands to yourself (so to speak), the way Satoru shivered when your fingers dipped the tiniest bit below the waist of the current shorts he wore was reason enough.

“I’m done with your back,” you told him after a bit, stepping out from behind the chair to better look at the snowy haired man you had just thoroughly aloe-d. “Do you need help with getting the gel anywhere else?” The smile he shot you struck you right in the heart.

“No, I think I can do the rest of it. Thank you.” 

Keeping eye contact with him suddenly felt too intense, so you looked away. Your gaze landed on the open water bottle on the table, and you were pleased to see that he’d nearly emptied the bottle; the sight made you smile.

“You’re welcome,” you said back quietly. Then you remembered the ice packs and popsicles, so you picked them all up and walked back into his kitchen, sticking them all in wherever you could them, in between all his boxes of frozen chicken nuggets and other microwave meals – his kitchen skills were minimal, and the man knew what he liked, so you couldn’t really fault him for sticking with the ease of frozen food.

When you returned from the kitchen, you saw Satoru beginning to rub the aloe gel along his arms, so you were satisfied that you had completed the job you’d come here to do. You pulled your keys out of your pocket, making sure you had your phone before you made for the door.

“Wait!” Satoru called after you, and you stopped, turning back to look at him. His brows were furrowed, and his expression was some combination of confused and… dejected? “Where are you going?”

“You said you didn’t need any more help with the aloe, so I was gonna leave you to it.”

“Oh.” His face fell at your words, but he spoke again anyways. “Do you have somewhere you need to be?”

You tilted your head slightly. “Not really, no. Why?”

Satoru perked up so quickly it was enough to give you secondhand emotional whiplash. “Oh, good! I was hoping you’d stay, maybe watch a movie or something?”

You couldn’t help but smile at him, with his sunglasses hanging crooked on his nose, his frosty white hair falling into his eyes, his boyish grin aimed full force at you.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I’ll stay. What movie were you thinking?”

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @kentohours @peachdues @ghost-1-y @witchbybirth

@marinnnnnnnnn @dr-runs-with-scissors @enchantedforest-network

divider by @/saradika

[ashwhowrites]

so I was wondering if you could do a story where Robin has been spending less time with her girlfriend ever since she got her license and so she thinks reader is cheating on her since she got a car and could go where ever she wanted so one day to get her out of her slump Steve takes her to see a street racing competition and who does she sees their? Reader kicking ass and ignoring every girl and boy who flirted with her and immediately goes to kiss Robin the second she sees her. So she’s definitely not cheating and reader explained that the reason they where here more was because of the extra money she could make to buy Robin a gift 🥺

(kinda like angst to fluff and maybe smut at the end idk)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 there isn't any smut, I'm sorry

Racer

Robin knew never learning how to drive would come back to bite her in the ass. She cursed herself for never learning or even attempting. She enjoyed Stevedriving her around, getting to be the passenger DJ and shout orders.

Ever since her girlfriend Y/N got a license, she has barely seen her. She was constantly driving off and never seemed to be home when Robin called. The random act of disappearance ate away at Robin's brain. She felt like her skin was constantly itchy as she felt uncomfortable in her clothes.

Something was going on and Robin had a horrible gut feeling about what it was. Someone was taking up all of her girlfriend's time, putting her in a slump.

Steve felt worried for his friend and wanted to do something to get her out of the house. He didn't want to believe Y/N was cheating, but Robin made a good argument. Still, Steve demanded she got fresh air.

Robin sighed as Steve's car came to a stop, she took in her surroundings.

"Is this a race track?" She asked, truthfully she had never been to one or thought of going to one. But now that she was here, and could hear the screams of fans she was intrigued.

"Yep, so let's watch some racing and get your mind off her." Steve smiled, hopping out of his car and Robin followed.

They walked down the bleachers, heading for the front spot near the fence. The cars were loud and the smoke filled Robin's nose. She wasn't sure if this was legal, but she was amazed by all the different kinds of cars and people.

She looked to her left and felt her eyes widen, she elbowed Steve repeatedly until he finally looked.

"Holy shit, is that Y/N?" Steve asked, he quickly checked her out before Robin noticed. Y/N was in jean shorts and a tank top, gloves on her hands as she leaned against her new car. She was talking to someone, and feeling eyes on her she looked over.

Robin couldn't help but smile at the reaction Y/N had seeing her. Y/N was quick to end the conversation, with a big smile as she waved. Robin waved back, stunned by how hot her girlfriend looked and wondering why she was here.

Robin kept her eyes on her as Y/N walked over to them, ignoring every boy who tried to walk up to talk to her. Robin could hear the whistles and cat calls, but Y/N ignored them.

"Rob!" Y/N cheered, throwing her arms around Robin and pulling her into a kiss

Robin slowly kissed back, her head still spinning from the wild events.

"What are you doing here?" Robin asked when she pulled away, Steve stood a few feet back to give them privacy.

"A little side job to make some extra cash. I've been winning races like crazy, and saving every dime for your birthday. What are you doing here?" Y/N asked her arms still around Robin's neck.

"That is so sweet," Robin cooed, feeling extremely guilty for thinking she was cheating. "I uh...Steve wanted to get me out of the house and brought me here." Robin explained

"Well, I'm glad you are here. Let me show you around." Y/N smiled, she removed her arms, instead slipping her hand in Robin's. "Steve, you are welcome to join."

"That's alright. You girls have fun" Steve winked, walking to find a seat.

"So...my girlfriend is a street racer?" Robin asked, a real smile appearing on her face. She nudged her shoulder against Y/N's as they walked towards the track

[marilynthornhilllover]

can you please make a fanfic we’re Larissa dies like in the show then wife reader makes and attends the funeral, but when she gets home she realizes that the front door to her and Larissa’s home was unlocked so she goes in slowly but she sees Larissa at the kitchen table drinking wine and Larissa says something like “miss me darling” and then some smut if you want. ❤️💋

Filthy love

Larissa weems x Fem reader

Warning: Angst, grief, sadness, slight anger, pain, lots of talk about depression, faking of death, smut, fingering, cunniligus, usage of toys such as : vibrator and strap, slight choking, kinda soft sex, praise kink, stalker kink if you squint, slight mommy kink, slight degradation kink.

A/n: I just want to say a HUGE THANK YOU to all of you who got me to 1,005 followers!! I'm so so so grateful and happy. I'm looking forward to continue writing fanfics for you all, thank you for interacting with my work and blog and simply liking my content and i am blessed to have each and everyone of you on board with me, sending love to you all also I hope you enjoy this 1k following special fanfic 👀💖.

There wasn't enough words in the English dictionary to describe the pain and emptiness that you were feeling as you stood over larissa's closed casket. There were no more tears left to cry. All you felt was emptiness, a never ending suffocating cycle of pure sadness, filled with rage. They say death has no sting and that it sneaks up on you and it's absolutely true. Nothing compares to what you felt currently.

You couldn't feel anything, you couldn't hear anything. It's like being trapped in the middle of the ocean with no air yet your still not exactly drowning, you don't want to drown but you refuse to be rescued out of the toxicity of the air.

You felt utterly numb. It's as if you too weren't alive, like a part of you died with her, and is to stay forever buried with her. Soon you'll have to thrown the first batch of sand on her grave, plant flowers two months later, listen to people express their condolences and state how larissa was a ' sunshine in a word filled with gloom'. Correct - absolutely correct. She was your sunshine in your world of gloom.

Truth be told you didn't deserve larissa - Or maybe larissa didn't deserve you. You'd always argue, she'd always stay at work. Nothing was simple, everything was so complicated behind the thick walls of your home. Fake bright smiles where somtimes even the Toothpaste couldn't clean the disgusting words you'd both spit at eachother behind close doors just to apologize minutes after with kept hatred inside.

It's as if you weren't there, but she was still here. It's not possible. She no longer existed and you wished you could swap places. She died so you can live but really and truly you didn't want to be here either.

The word is toxic and exhausting and larissa kept things joyful for you, always ready to sacrifice her happiness to see you smile. The memories of the good kept attacking your brain, handing in return instant headaches.

The first time you both laid eyes on eachother.

The time she asked you out on your first ever date.

The time she asked you to be her girlfriend.

The time she proposed.

The time she asked you to move in.

Right until the day you both said ' I do' the only soft, truthful words to ever be said to eachother. Maybe if larissa was here she offered up her happiness. You felt everything at once. It was all overwhelming. You wanted to be no where and here at the same time. The sadness you felt inside was unbearable yet no tears dared to escape..... they all stayed dried.

With a sigh you sniffed and made your way towards your seat, sitting besides Wednesday you flicked a warm smile towards her, you weren't sure if it was quite excalty warm though, after all your warmth was laying with her hands on her chest in a small, itchy casket. Larissa hated small spaces, if she was alive she wouldn't even be lying there now..... and that's how you knew she's really dead.

Because in the back of your head, there was a part of you that believed this was all a joke and that maybe thos was all a cruel prank to be played.

" are you ok?" You turned to look at the small girl besides you, forcing a smile you nodded. She definitely didn't believed you, to be honest who would?. Calling your heart broken would be an understatement, you don't know how celion dion sang that song because your heart definitely will not be going on without larissa. If you could have took her hand in death you would have.

"Til death do us part"

Wednesday truly cared for larissa, under her tough goth act there laid a heart of gold for the sapphire, Elsa blond hair and beautifully paled skin beauty.

You were once again broken from your trance as the pastor began to do his speech.

This you realized was your Roman empire, your own wife's death. You should really he celebrating her life but she hardly enjoyed her life. She was too tied up with work and you being on her back 24/7 percent of the time. She wasn't allowed space to breathe, well now she has more than enough.

After the pastor was done doing his speech you stepped on stage to say your urology - your last words. Taking a steady breath, and a long exhale you positioned the paper infront of you on the podium as you tried your best not to allow the tears their accompanied time frame.

" firstly, i want to thank you all for truly being here today so that we can honor our beloved and bright spark, Larissa Weems..... larissa was many things.... she was a principal, to some a English teacher. She was a daughter, a lover, a role model etc but t-to." You sighed as you looked down steading out your breath as your voice broke.

" to me larissa was much more than that in my life. I was a field of dead flowers before I met larissa, a-and she was like the sun that came out, bringing both warmth and healing into my life. She was and will forever be my hero that wore heels and my sunlight that brighten and made my life and day better. S-she never failed to make me smile or laugh, even giggle. I know to many of you she was so much more than just a sun.... she was the entire world even universe. And as we lay her to rest today I hope we all find the time to heal and be storng, because that's who larissa was, storng....."

Everyone sniffed, some clapped, most breaking down in tears. You never ment for anyone to shed even more tears or for any hearts to be broken any more than they already were you just needed everyone to find peace just as much as you wanted to find it as well.

After the funeral was over you hugged everyone goodbye and wished them a safe drive home as you also headed home, already planning to sleep because you couldn't accept the pain that you will feel after arriving home and realizing the house is empty.

As you pulled into the driveway you noticed the door looked pushed open. You weren't in the correct headspace but you knew for sure weren't crazy, you remember closing and locking the door perfectly well after leaving. After switching off the car and getting out you carefully walked up to the house - the mansion.

You fired all employees for three months with pay since you needed the time and house for yourself to simply be human and do human things which in this situation will be to grieve. Upon arrival you inspected the door before pushing it open and stepping inside slowly. If there was an intruder you'd rather catch them in the act, then call the police.

" hello?? Who's there? I suggest you just surrender now or I won't hesitate to call the cops on yo-" as you rounded the corner of the kitchen you saw larissa sitting on top of the countertop with her heels long forgotten on the carpet of the dinning room chair. Her lipstick was smudge as her legs swinged back and forth. She looked...... well not dead obviously. You knew for sure you weren't dreaming and she definitely looked very alive.

She moaned softly as she finished her wine and placed the glass down ontop the counter with a small cling. She sighed as a smirk was quickly painted across her face. You didn't know how to react. Maybe you should scream and run for your life, be happy and joyful or to maybe stay sad just incase this was your own mind manipulating you into a maladaptive dream land trance.

" hello darling....." She spoke in a low husky voice as her eyes flicked up towards yours, they were dark and swirling with desires for many things - things that you knew of and knew not of.

" did you miss me?" She asked as her eyebrows quirked up in a teasing manner. Your body stayed frozen as she jumped off of the counter and strides towards you very slowly. Her hips swayed as the smirk remained on her face. You could hear your rapid heartbeat in your chest with every closer step she took towards you, not breaking eye contact nor curving her lips into a non - smirk.

She finally stopped right infront of you as she tilted her head to the side, inspecting your face, possibly trying her best to read your every emotion as well as she can. As you looked into her eyes you saw, warmth, passion, love, peace, joy, everything that made larissa unique was swirling around in her sapphire iris, you felt your connection spark that you had with her ignite as her hands made their way around your waist pulling you flush against her body.

" I'm alive, my love. Long story but right now I think I'd rather cherish you" she whispered against your earlobe, gently pressing a kiss towards your neck before leaning back to look at your face, but again it remained blank because you did not have any reactions or emotions lingering on your face or in your eyes. It's like you were a statue, frozen before time.

Larissa chuckled softly, her hands making their upwards your chest Slightly grouping your breast making a moan escape your from the back of your throat. She grinned as she pushed you up against the counter. Despite all odds and questions that needed to be asked about everything that happened you needed her badly, she was like a drug that you needed desperately to live. You grabbed her cheeks and forced her lips against yours.

It took her by surprise but she quickly kissed back with the same equal amount of passion. You opened your mouth and gaved her access as she gladly took it by slipping in her tongue and using it to her advantage. Her hands traveled down your body wildly as she squeezed your ass and grabbed your hips harshly as she picked you up and took you to the bedroom.

She kicked the door open with her feet as she switched on the lamp light before throwing you onto the bed aggressively. She crawled up towards you and reconnected both your lips again in a heated, sloppy desperate kiss that spoke so much words that the lips could never utter.

You helped her take off her clothing as she helped you in return.

" fuck I need to taste you darling" she mumbled before spreading your thighs apart and smirking. She bit her bottom lip as she admired your baby pink lace panties before proceeding to pulling it to the side. She groaned as she saw your arousal spreaded all around your cunt as your puffy clit stared back at her. Larissa wasted no time as she enveloped her mouth onto your small bud immediately setting a fast sucking pace.

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as your hands immediately flew to her hair pulling her even closer.

" your so fucking delicious darling" she purred as the vibrations from her speech made your shiver. Larissa used her hands to hold your thighs open to prevent you from squirming and bucking your hips as her tongue flicked back and forth against your clit in a rapid pace.

" f-fuck, larissa, I'm gonna cum." You whispered as she chuckled darkly, her hot breath on your cunt was driving you crazy. She knew fully well what she was doing to you. Your stomach twisted as you felt larissas fingers trace slow steady circles around your entrance that caused your back to arch.

" so needy for mommy huh baby, you need me to be alive to fuck you senseless" your brain began to get fuzzy, the effect larissa had on you was dangerous - deadly dangerous. Your grip in her hair tighten as your nails digged deeper into her scalp. Your eyes rolled back as she continued to violate your clit endless in the most oragam way possible.

You felt the knot in your stomach tied as it was ready to explode. Your other free hand gripped the sheets as you swore you were gonna leave holes in it.

" such a dirty slut for mommy darling" she cooed as she slowly thrusted her two slender fingers into you at once before pulling them out, and that was all it took before you cummed in her mouth. She removed her lips from your abused bud as she gently kissed it before leaving open mouth kisses on your hot sweaty skin all the way up to your lips.

She watched as you tried to catch your breath as you gently shivered.

" I'm not done yet princess" she whispered before leaning over towards the side table and pulling open the drawer, her hand rumbled around in there for a while before a pink clip on button vibrator cake evident in your eyes. Larissa smirked before snaking her way back down to your pussy. She took both sides of your underwear and pulled it down as you lifted your hips to assist her.

You spread your legs even wider for her. She looked up at you with an evil expression before attaching the vibrator to your sensitive clit. As soon as she turned on the button you collapsed onto the bed in pleasure. You moaned as her hand wrapped around your neck. She leaned down closely to your face, her lips ghosting yours. You leaned in to place a kiss onto her lips but she pulled away chuckling.

" such a needy little girl, letting me do what I want with her needy cunt" you gasped as she slipped her two slender fingers into your cunt, your eyes rolled back as you let out a sigh of satisfaction. You could hear as her fingers went in and out of your wet cunt with squelching noises and your sweet moans and whimpers for her. You were her bitch to fuck.

Her hold on your neck tighten even more as her pace picked up to something more brutal. You cried out as she curled her fingers in you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again that had you going dumb for her and crying. She loved the way your greedy cunt clench led down around her fingers. Your hips rocked back and forth desperate to meet her thrust.

" Come on darling, cum again for me" she cooed as she picked up her pace, pushing her fingers deeper into you lr cunt past knuckle length.

" OH GOD! MOMMY! P-PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE, NEED IT SO BAD" you screamed as larissa pinched your nipple before slapping it, feeling as your body quirked and trashed beneath her, as your cunt spasms around her fingers. You wanted to try to hold off your oragsm a little while longer, not wanting to seem ' truly desperate ' as a whore who just needed her pussy fucked every second of the day by her wife but you simply couldn't.

" I know you want to" she whispered in a sultry voice, and that was the end of you. Your back arched as you let out the most pornographic moan ever to be heard as you coated larissas fingers with your cream. She continued to fuck you through your oragsm until you couldn't take the overstiumlation anymore. She removed her fingers and cleaned them off with her tongue, keeping her eyes on you.

The way her tongue swirled around her everyone finger, licking up your juices that ran down her hand made your cunt throb. You gulp as you cleared your throat.

" I wanna ride you" you spoke lowly and larissa scoffed.

" go on, get the strap then you can fuck yourself on mommy big cock, maybe if we're lucky I can put a baby in you, get you all full and round with my baby" she groaned.

the thought along had you sprinting towards the closest to get the biggest strap with the most deepest curve possible.

And with this you knew tonight was going to be a very very long night....... hopefully one with pleasure and maybe when that's finished you can get the answers you deserve, because you didn't deserve all that pain and heartache.

[explosionshark]

💙or 💜 for fuffy

that's drunken/tipsy kiss and impulsive/surprise kiss. i think this fill counts for both.

-

Honestly, Faith hadn’t planned any of this.

She just gets antsy whenever she’s recalled to the Castle in Scotland. She hates it, if she’s being honest. It doesn’t feel like a real place — too old, somehow too big and too claustrophobic at the same time. She’s got this theory: slayers are meant to be solitary, there was only ever supposed to be one at a time. She’d said to Buffy once that maybe that was why they could never get along. She thinks she might have been onto something, even if she’d only half-meant it then. Being around so many other slayers makes her skin buzz, makes her irritable and restless.

She’s here as a show of goodwill. And because B called and asked for her, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it. As soon as the debrief ends, when Faith’s got her marching orders (leaving with a small team of girls to track down some magical book that’s been stolen, while Buffy leads another team to raid a vampire cult’s headquarters to free a kidnapped warlock) she bails.

They’re not leaving until tomorrow morning. It’s stupid, probably, to go get drunk when she’s got to be on a plane in a few hours, but there’s not exactly a huge amount of options for entertainment in rural Scotland. It’s pubs and churches and football clubs and only one of those is open at this time of night.

It’s not her first time in the area, so she already has a game-plan in mind when she rolls into town. She avoids the smaller local pub — townies always pay her too much attention. The chain pub on the high street is her best option — she knows she’ll stick out there too, but with a booth in the back and an unfriendly enough attitude, she might get a chance to drink in peace. 

It goes okay, at first. She orders a pitcher of beer and a couple shots to boot, heads off to a dark corner. Smile nice at the girl that serves her, glowers hard at every man that looks at her twice. A few pints in she takes another glance around the room, sizing up the barflies. Maybe it could be worth it, she thinks, finding someone to go home with. Blow off some steam — that itchy feeling from the Castle hasn’t quite left her and there’s no chance she’ll get to go slaying tonight, so a round or two with some stranger she won’t have to call again seems as good an outlet as any.

Then she glances at the clock on the wall. Wheels up in less than 10 hours. She should probably call it quits now, head back to the Castle. Work herself up to get some shuteye. 

She orders another round of shots instead.

Slayer metabolism makes it kind of tough to stay drunk. Getting drunk? Easy enough. As long as she doesn’t slow down too much, it basically works. Unfortunately, this is the kind of behavior that tends to worry bar staff.

“Honey, I know you’re just doing your job, but I’ll let you know when I need something,” Faith says, pushing away the glass of water her waitress sets in front of her.

She holds up her hands. “Courtesy of that woman at the bar.”

Faith looks over to where she’s pointing.

Ah, shit.

As soon as they’ve made eye contact, Buffy slips off the barstool, crossing the room to slide into the empty spot across from Faith. She looks up at the waitress, smiling beatifically. “Thank you.”

Faith hunches low into her seat, barely managing not to fold her arms over her chest like a sulky teenager. “Hey Buffy.”

“Don’t sound too excited,” Buffy mutters. 

“Well, didn’t exactly expect you to crash,” Faith says, knocking back another shot just for something to do with her hands. “You’re kinda blowing up my spot here, B. Clam-jammin’. What if I was looking to get lucky?”

“I’d say that’s maybe not a great idea when you’re supposed to be on a plane in a little while. But then again, neither is getting hammered,” Buffy says, frowning. Then she leans forward, plucking a shot glass right from between Faith’s fingers and draining it with only a slight wince. “Are you?”

It takes Faith a beat to register Buffy’s question. She was still staring at the line of Buffy’s throat. “Huh? Am I what?”

“Looking to get lucky?” Buffy says, glancing around the room, that judgy little wrinkle between her brows.

Holy shit.

Faith blinks, hands clenched so tight around her pint glass she feels it start to give, a spiderweb of cracks spreading outward from her grip. She lets go quickly, flushing. Is this…?

“Are you, uh, offering?” Faith asks, wincing. Fuck. Way to go Lehane. Smooth.

It’s Buffy’s turn to go beet red. 

Fuck. Okay, so she wasn't.

“Sorry, sorry,” Faith says waving a hand in the air by her head as if she could swat away the clumsy offering lingering between them. “Swear I'm not trying anything, I know where we stand. Just drunk.”

And stupid. Sullenly, she draws her pint glass nearer and takes a hearty sip.

Surprising her, Buffy reaches out and pours her own glass of beer from the pitcher. Faith can count on one hand the number of times they've drank together. “You've been avoiding me.”

She can't help but notice the way Buffy doesn't meet her eyes when she says it.

Faith fidgets in her booth. “No,” she begins, cut short by the unimpressed look Buffy sends her across the table. “I mean not… You know I don't exactly love your digs here, B. Too crowded. I needed to get out.”

“Only you would call 2 acres of land and a massive medieval building crowded,” Buffy scoffs.

Faith shrugs, “Yeah, well. I like my space.”

At this point, Faith even isn't sure if that's a lie anymore. She's been more or less on her own for the past few years since Sunnydale went down and all the Potentials were activated. Giles and the other eggheads at Buffy's place keep her busy - she lives on a generous stipend, flitting from place to place, taking down monsters, fighting the good fight. She's gotten good at being alone.

“You should have said something. You don't have to stay on the grounds if you hate it so much,” Buffy sighs, then leans an elbow on the table, propping her cheek against her palm. “Do you want to get a room here in town?”

The pub lighting is dim but warm, the yellow glow of the light fixture dangling over their table makes everything feel so intimate. For a moment, Faith lets herself indulge in a little fantasy - that they could be strangers or old friends, that Buffy asking if she wants to get a room could mean something else.

“Why'd you kiss me?” Faith asks, startling herself. They said they wouldn't talk about it, but fuck, not talking about it seems to be just as exhausting. Maybe this is better. Rip the band-aid off. Put those stupid little fantasies to bed.

“I don't know,” Buffy says, takes a guilty swig of beer. “I just… wanted to.”

It had been about a month ago. Faith got in over her head trying to hunt down a rogue witch who had integrated herself with a pack of vampires in Vegas. She'd called in for backup and had been surprised when Buffy herself arrived. They'd spent a week dealing with the mess down in Sin City, both of them nearly biting the big one a few times each. Sleeping in the same hotel room, first for convenience, then for the company. 

Then, finally, the night after they'd finally staked their last vamp, Buffy had surprised her by electing to stay another night. They went out to celebrate. Danced. Drank a little.

The kiss felt like something she'd dreamed. Honestly, Faith hadn't even really been able to enjoy it — it had freaked her out. That's probably what ruined it. Faith never seems to get it right with Buffy, she'd been too stunned to kiss her back, to savor the moment. Sure, it probably wouldn't have gone anywhere, but at least she'd have had that memory. That one movie moment, kissing under neon lights on the strip, Buffy’s hands in her jacket. Instead she'd frozen, then it has been awkward and Buffy had apologized and well. Now they're here.

And it's awkward again.

I just wanted to. What the hell kind of answer was that?

“Trying something out?” Faith pushes, hoping for more. “Curious about chicks?”

Buffy flushes a little, buys herself time to answer with another drink of beer. “Not exactly. You're not the only girl I've kissed, Faith.”

That stings a little more than she expected it to.

“Oh.” She wants to ask more. Who? When? What did it mean then? Was it only kissing? Why wasn't Faith her first?

Buffy tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “It felt right in the moment. I don't know. I didn't think it through. I guess… I mean, I assumed you wanted it.” Buffy winces. “Ugh, god, why does that make me sound gross?”

Faith feels like she'd just jabbed a fork into an electrical outlet. What the fuck.

“I did,” she blurts out. “Want it.”

“But you didn't even kiss me back—”

“Well, you fuckin pussied out like immediately, I hardly had a chance to react,” Faith shoots back. “Fuck, B, I was shocked.”

“I didn't know anything could shock you,” Buffy mutters. 

“Fuck me,” Faith laughs, disbelieving. She plops her elbows on the table between them, leaning in to sink her hands into her hair, shaking her head. 

“I got embarrassed,” Buffy admits. “Like, I'm super creeper predator girl all of a sudden and I totally misread like our entire deal for years and—”

“Our deal for years?” Faith echoes, looking up.

“You've literally asked me to kiss you before,” Buffy points out. “There's always been that vibe. Don't play dumb.”

Faith flushes. She's not sure why this is embarrassing — she'd convinced herself that Buffy never picked up on what she wanted all those years. Learning otherwise now, she can't help but cringe a little at how desperate she'd been before. How obvious.

“You said it felt right in the moment,” Faith says, haltingly. She bites her lip and takes a chance, sliding across the u-shaped booth until her knee knocks against Buffy's under the table.

“Yeah” Buffy says, practically whispering. The light is casting shadows over her face. She smells good, perfume and the slight tang of beer on her breath. She looks like a painting, like something Faith could have dreamed.

“What made it feel that way?” Faith asks, letting her gaze drop to Buffy's mouth. Might as well make it obvious this time.

“We were a little tipsy,” Buffy says.

Faith reaches across the table, drags her pint glass over and takes a drink. She watches as Buffy, hands trembling, takes another sip of her own drink 

“Yeah?” Faith prompts.

“Uh, you were close. Leaning on me.” Buffy doesn't break Faith’s gaze as she leans in, one arm sliding over the back of Buffy’s booth, crowding her. She presses her knee harder into Buffy's thigh 

“Yeah,” Faith breathes.

Buffy’s eyes are huge. “You looked so pretty. And I just…”

Faith doesn't fuck it up this time. When Buffy lets her eyes drift shut, leans in, Faith meets her halfway. She kisses her with force — not rough, but with intention, the kind of thing it would be impossible to write off or misinterpret.

Faith wraps her arm around Buffy’s shoulder, pulling her close. With her free hand she reaches up, toying with a strand of Buffy's hair briefly before cupping her cheek. She licks at Buffy's lips, tastes strawberry lip gloss and lager.

It's like everything Faith imagined but more, better. Buffy’s lips are plush, her mouth is warm, inviting. She makes a little sound in the back of her throat that sets Faith's nerves on fire, makes her want to dive in, to push Buffy back into the booth hard, to feel her buck and squirm and to find out what other noises Faith could get her to make.

She holds back though, contenting herself with this. With Buffy's right hand on the back of Faith’s neck, holding her there. With her left fisted in the lapel of Faith's jacket, like the first time.

Faith lets the kiss linger. Savors it, like she should have the first time.

When they finally pull apart, Faith stays in Buffy's space, eyes locked on hers, waiting for what's next.

Buffy bites her lip. Cranes her neck to look at the clock on the opposite wall, by the bar. “It's getting late. We have early flights tomorrow.”

Ah. Well, Faith tells herself, it's stupid to be disappointed. She'd gotten another shot. She didn't waste it. It's more than she ever expected.

“Right,” Faith agrees, a little embarrassed by the hoarseness of her voice. She clears her throat, leaning back. “So—”

“We should probably get that room,” Buffy says, voice even, but Faith can see the nervousness on her face. “It'll save us time instead of driving back.”

“Oh,” Faith breathes. “You mean it?”

Buffy nods.

“Cool,” Faith says, stupidly and can't help the way she grins. “I'll close the tab.”

[daisykihannie]

𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝚂.𝙲𝙱

pairing: Dom!Changbin x Ftm!Reader

warnings: wrestling/manhandling, smut, NSFW, hardcore, rough, unprotected sex, gym bros, exhibitionism, voyerism, edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, praise, body worship, oral (giving), oral (receiving), pining/crushing, etc.

a/n: this one is a bit more plot heavy since i was stalling, unsure how to write the actual sex part, i hope it turned out well

It was 10pm when your gym buddy, Changbin, texted you. He asked you to meet him at his home gym. Now, working out at Changbin’s house wasn’t anything new, but working out at 10pm was. You two normally worked out as the sun was rising and then would get breakfast together after. You two had worked out earlier that day and Bin never worked out twice in one day and neither did you.

Although your chest and arms were still sore from the mornings workout, you got dressed in your black compression shirt and athletic shorts anyways and began your 15 minute walk to his house. You drank your pre-workout on the way, knowing that you’d need it to get through a dual workout session. Changbin had also mentioned that he wanted to try out a new kind of work out that took two people but refused to tell you what it was other than a surprise.

Honestly, if you didn’t have the fastest crush on this man, you wouldn’t be doing this but you were pining for a presumably straight gym rat, what else could you do? You wanted to have his attention, all of it, and while trapped in an inescapable friend zone, working out with him was how you got the attention you craved.

Arriving at Changbin’s house, you rang the door bell and waiting for the slightly shorter man to open the door. You could already feel the jitters and itchiness from the pre-workout kicking in. Luckily you weren’t stuck waiting too long as the door opened, revealing someone who wasn’t Changbin. The man holding the door open could read the confusion on your face and let out a soft chuckle.

“Hey, you’re Y/N right? I’m Chan, it’s nice to meet you. We’re in the gym already so just follow me man.” he said and stepped to the side to give you the space to walk inside. You took off your shoes by the door and slipped on some slides before turning to the man next to you. “Bin said this was a two person workout, why’d he invite me if you’re here?” you asked with furrowed brows and a pout as you both headed downstairs to the gym.

“Oh! I’m not participating, just judging.” he said with a dimpled smile, eyes turning into crescents as if his answer was simple. It in fact wasn’t and left you with more questions. “Judging? are you a PT or something?” you asked, growing even more confused as you went. The ravenette barked out a laugh before responding. “God no, if anything Binnie had kinda become my PT.” again, his answer left you with more questions but before you could ask, he was opening the door to the gym.

When you walked in, you saw a wrestling ring in the center of the room and two other men you’d never met sitting at a table along the wall opposite of the door. “What the fuck?” you looked around, not realizing you’d actually said that out loud. “Did Binnie not explain what was taking place tonight?” the blonde man at the table asked.

“Fucking- obviously not, he also didn’t tell me there was an audience or that we’d be judged? also, when the fuck did he have time to set up a wrestling ring? I was literally here working out with him at 6am.” you couldn’t deny that you were a bit frustrated, evidence of that in your tone as you kind of snapped at the other man who you still didn’t even have a name of.

“Bin was right, you are a feisty one.” Chan said next to you before moving to the table and sitting in the open spot at the far left end. You raised your eyebrow in questioning, Bin talks about you AND he called you feisty? You were snapped out of your thoughts when Chan’s voice was ringing through the room again. “Well, as you now know I’m Chan. The blonde is Hyunjin, and the brunette is Jisung. We actually all live together here so Changbin asked us to be the judges for your wrestling match.” Chan finished with that same blinding, dimpled, smile as if this was the happiest moment of his life.

“For one, nice to meet you guys i guess? and two, it is 10:30 at night. How the actual hell do you have this much energy? It’s like you shit sunshine and rainbows.” you snapped again, still annoyed with everything and the fact that Changbin invited you and you’ve met 3 strangers and he’s nowhere to be found.

The other two boys, Hyunjin and Jisung started laughing loudly and clapping their hands, almost falling out of their seats. “What’s so funny?” you asked and they just laughed harder. You waited for their laughter to die down and them to catch their breath before the smallest of the three answered. “You’ve known Hyung for all of 5 minutes and you’re already roasting him, not caring that he’s older than you.” and the two broke out into laughter again.

Your eyes went wide and you clapped both hands over your mouth, the motion causing your backpack to fall from your shoulder to the crook of your elbow. You hadn’t even thought about possibly disrespecting the men, you were the same age as Changbin so you just assumed they’d all be younger. You bent into a 90° bow and began to sputter out long lines of apologies, refusing to look up from the ground.

“i’m not mad Y/N, I don't care about that. The two youngest guys in our group disrespect me hourly. Please stand back up, it’s embarrassing.” Chan spoke and you stood back up, not saying a word and keeping your eyes glued to the floor. When they noticed that you didn’t plan to look away from the floor anytime soon, one of them let out a sigh. “Binnie-Hyung! Your crush looks like he’s about to cry!”

His words had your head snapping back up, eyes wide and face red as you stared at the blonde. Crush? Did he just call you Changbin’s crush? “He- he’s not straight?” you asked in a small voice, shocked at the discovery. At that very moment, the man of the hour finally entered. He wore a black tank top and short, very tight, athletic shorts. You couldn’t help but ogle the man, like you normally did everytime you two worked out together.

“You thought i was straight? Either i’m really bad at flirting or you’re painfully oblivious Bunny.” Changbin chuckled as he entered the ring, separating the ropes and holding his hand out for you to enter as well. When you climbed into the ring and Changbin was in front of you, you immediately punched him in the shoulder, hard. “Ow! bunny!” he cried out dramatically and rubbed the spot where you punched him.

“I can’t stand you.” you groaned and rolled your eyes. You threw your backpack to the ground by the door and took off your shirt. At Changbin gym you always worked out without your shirt on, your top surgery scars invisible under your muscular pecs. You heard whistles coming from the three men at the table in response to your bare skin. “Can’t stand me? sit on my face then.” Changbin replied with a devilish smirk on his face and took his shirt off as well.

You felt your face go hot at his words, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You couldn’t help but stare at his exposed skin, tracing every muscle and ridge with your eyes. It’s unfair how hot Changbin is and you were getting stupidly turned on, more so than normal knowing that he was interested in you as well.

“So-“ your voice cracked and you had to clear your throat before speaking again. “wrestling?” your voice was failing you with the sheer amount of arousal you felt at the moment. You shouldn’t be getting so horny over wrestling with your gym bro but god- the thought of him manhandling you and pinning you down had you reeling. You had to shake yourself out of your sinful thoughts in order to actually focus.

“Yeah, we are gonna do 3 rounds at 10 minutes each and at the end of it, those three over there will judge who wins. The only rule is no knock outs.” he paused to rake his eyes over your body with a smug grin before continuing. “everything else is allowed, and i mean everything.” he growled and you had to fight your knees from buckling. Your thoughts immediately went back to being dirty, but surely Changbin didn’t mean it like that. You had no issue with an audience but maybe he did.

The two of you got in a grappling stance across from each other in opposite corners of the ring. “Ready? Set!” Hyunjin called out and then a bell rang, signaling the beginning of the first round. You two watched each other for any weak points for a moment before you spotted that Changbin was not protecting his right side. You dove in and ducked under the arm that came out to grab you, taking ahold of his thighs and spinning into his side hard and fast. You used your calf to hook around his shin and pulled inward till he was falling over and you landed on top of him.

He moved to flip the two of you over, hooking his arm under your left leg to knock you off balance and pulling your leg toward his shoulder. He was on his knees and leaned back on his heels to lift your leg enough. Your upper back was down on the mat as you pulled your other leg up and locked your ankles together behind his head, straightening your legs so that your thighs could get a vice grip on his head. He stumbled slightly on his knees and both hands grabbed your thighs.

You took the chance to twist your body, bringing his body down to the mat as you settled on your side. You were trying to flip him underneath you but he kept your body from turning further as he shifted the two of you around so that your body was almost directly on top of him with your back against his front. You weren’t letting up on your grip on his head as you fought against him.

His grip on your thighs was bruising as he tried to pry them apart, his face turning red as you kept trying to roll over so you could get off his body and the ground. While you struggled to twist, his head slipped higher between your thighs. He was now only a couple centimeters from your core but you didn’t notice this, and unfortunately for you, Changbin did. While he was grabbing at your legs, hands going higher up, his fingers rubbed against your core through your pants before pushing against the hardened bundle of nerves.

You let out a gargled moan that mixed into a yelp of surprise at the feeling and your legs loosened momentarily but at the same time the bell rang again, signaling the end of the first round. You released your ankles and stared at changbin as he sat up and breathed heavily. Your eyes were wide and your face was red, you didn’t realize just how horny you were till he touched you. It didn’t even seem like he’d noticed what he did as he panted heavily, looking up at the three men at the table you noticed that they were various shades of red and staring you down with dark eyes. They definitely knew what had just happened.

You were lost for words, trying to wrap your head around if that was accidental or if he’d done it on purpose. Fucking hell, Binnie is really hard to read right now. You truly couldn’t tell, till you spotted the tent forming in his shorts, you smirked when you spotted it and moved your foot from where it rested on his thigh to push into and drag across his crotch. He bit back his own moan and looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Two can play that game Bunny~” you cooed, throwing the pet name back at him. He was red in the face for a totally different reason and god, you wanted him to ruin you. “Drank some water you two! the next round starts soon!” Jisung called out and you sent a wink to Changbin as you got off the floor, making sure to give him a good view of your ass in your shorts as you walked to the table where the three men sat and grabbed a fresh water bottle.

You tilted you head back and took a few big gulps, exposing your neck and the way your adam’s apple bobbed in your throat. Sweat dripped down the soft skin and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, with all this attention why not put on a little show? The only one you wanted to watch your every move was Changbin, when you stopped drinking and looked at him from the corner of your eye while twisting the cap back on the bottle, you saw that his attention was locked on you while he drank his own water and you couldn’t help but smirk when you felt the pride of capturing his attention begin to bubble in your chest.

Climbing back into the ring, Changbin passed by you and landed a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing around the room. It stung slightly but it was definitely a lot louder than it was harsh. Changbin was having a quick hushed conversation with the other three as you leaned against the ropes and watched. The three kept looking between Changbin and you while they spoke before they all nodded, agreeing to whatever was discussed.

Changbin was back in the ring now and you both got back into a grappling stance, waiting for the bell to ring again. Once the sound rang through the gym, you were looking for another weak spot but Changbin was completely solid. You couldn’t find a leverage point, but apparently Changbin had. He was quick when he moved in and you’d tried to dodge him but inevitably you failed.

He had you down on your stomach and was pinning your hips to the ground with his thighs on either side of them. He pulled your wrist to his hips with enough force that your back was arched and he leaned forward so that his face was right next to your ear. When he did that, you could feel his half hard cock pressing against your ass and you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper. “how about we turn the heat up a notch huh? Can you feel what all your pathetic moans and whimpers are doing to me bunny?” he growled in your ear and pushed his cock harder into you.

The weight of his cock was resting between your cheeks now as he subtly continued to roll his hips against you. “You have no clue how long i’ve wanted to be inside you.” Changbin groaned and looked up at his friends. “look at them, they wanna watch me ruin you. Can’t you see their cocks are already hard thinking about watching me wreck you. They can’t even keep their hands off their cocks.” your eyes opened at this and you were in fact staring at three men palming their hard-ons while watching you and changbin.

“F-fuck… please…” you whimpered quiet enough for just changbin to hear and he wasted no time in flipping you over onto your back. You were looking up at Changbin's dark, glassy eyes that were blurry with lust. You couldn’t look away even as he got off of you just long enough to rip his shorts off, exposing his thick and heavy cock hanging between his legs. He was so hard and you could feel your insides twist at the sight.

While he was distracted, you remembered that you were still in the middle of wrestling and used your legs to hook behind his left knee and pulled him to the ground. You were quick to pin him down under your body and sit on his abdomen, his cock standing at attention behind you. “Just because i wanna fuck you bunny, does not mean that i won’t also win in the process.” you growled and rubbed your ass back against his leaking cock.

Changbin let out a groan at the stimulation before twisting his own body to try to throw you off. Luckily you caught yourself but because of the way he was grabbing you and trying to buck you off, you had to turn around so now you sat on his chest and used your hands to pin down his shins. He wouldn’t be able to get any leverage like this and you had his pretty cock by your face now. You looked up to meet the eyes of the three men, maintaining eye contact as you let your jaw go slack.

In one swift movement you had Changbin cock buried in your throat. Your nose was flush against his balls and you hollowed out your cheeks, shaking your head from side to side so your nose could jostle his balls a bit. The movement made you gag and your throat tighten around his cock as saliva pooled in your mouth. “Holy fuck! god- ah!” changbin cried out and tried to buck his hips up but from the way you had him pinned, he was immobile.

You gargled around his cock that was still buried in your throat when Changbin was able to slip his hands under your thighs and flip you over. You were in shock for a moment at the sudden change and Changbin took that moment to strip away your pants once you're pinned under his body, his face close to your core. You take his cock back into your mouth and he lets out a hiss at the feeling. He gets your boxers off and lets out a deep, guttural groan.

“Fuck- didn’t know you were hiding this from me. Look at you, so fucking pretty.” he praises you and delivers a teasing kitten lick to your hardened clit. Your eyes roll back in your head and your body jolts underneath him. He continues to tease you with licks here and there causing you to let out a desperate whine around his cock before moving your head around to release him with a pop. You gasp for air for a moment, lungs burning from not being able to breathe around the cock that was just buried in your throat.

Changbin continues licking and sucking at your cocklet, slurping sounds mixing with his groans and your own whimpers filling the room. Your legs were shaking slightly and you had to force them to work. The three men were still watching you two, Jisung had his hand in his pants to stroke his cock. Hyunjin had since tucked the waistband of his sweats and boxers underneath his balls and was stroking himself languidly and twisting his wrist over the head of his cock. Chan still remained fully dressed and palmed himself, rolling his hips against his hand slightly.

You and Changbin were still in the middle of the match, he was distracted with sucking you off and lapping up your juices so even though your legs were feeling weak as they shook from pleasure, this was your best chance to get unpinned. You took a deep breath and used what strength you could muster in your legs and flipped the two of you again, sitting back on your haunches when Changbin was on his back. He was quick to get on his own knees, ready to continue the match.

“Fuck-��� Jisung groaned,

“Didn’t expect that.” Hyunjin mumbled,

“His pussy is so fucking pretty.” Chan growled.

That’s when it hit you that none of them had realized you were trans, especially with Changbin’s surprise earlier. When Changbin removed your shorts and boxers, his body was caging yours and he’d blocked them from seeing you since your head was towards them but Changbin’s was away from them where he’d buried himself between your thighs. Your face began to burn and you wanted to cover yourself, feeling insecure.

Changbin must have noticed because in the time it took you to blink, he was behind you. He pulled you back into his chest and used his legs to wrap over yours, his feet planted on the back side of your knees and pinning your legs open so you were spread open for the men. You let out a yelp at the quick movement and tried to cover yourself with your hands but Changbin was quicker than you. He pulled your arms behind your back and used his left arm to hook around your biceps and trap them between your bodies.

“Don’t hide it bunny. Your cock is so fucking pretty when it’s hard and soaked.” he growled in your ear and you couldn’t help the choked moan that ripped from your chest. He used his index and middle finger to pull your lips apart and expose your hardened clit and fluttering hole to the other three who were watching. “Look at them Bunny. Look at how hungry they are for this pretty pussy. This pretty pussy that belongs to me now.” Changbin’s voice was deep and heavy as he purred the words into your ear.

You lifted your head from where it was pointed towards the ground and opened your eyes to see that all three of them had their cocks out now, leaking precum with reddened tips. You whimpered at the sight and Changbin pushed two of his thick veiny digits inside your heat, attaching his lips to your throat to leave open mouthed kisses and love bites across the soft skin. You back arched and you began to pant heavily and whine as he fingered you open. He hooked his fingers upwards inside of you to tease that spongy bundle of nerves nestled deep inside your walls. Your moans came out heady and desperate as you tried to grind your hips down on his fingers.

You felt your arousal soaking your lips and dripping down the plush of your ass onto the mat, squelching sounds filling the room from the way Changbin fucked you open with his fingers. You kept trying to watch the other three that were getting off to watching the two of you but the way Changbin’s fingers moved inside of you made you dizzy and made it hard to keep your eyes open. “c-close… fuck Bin! I’m-“ you cried out, desperate to cum but instead of feeling the knot in your gut unravel, you felt empty.

Changbin had removed his fingers, ripping your climax away from you. “no no no!” you screamed out and felt like you might cry. You noticed that the men in front of you had all stopped their own movements on their cocks as they trembled in their seats. Their cocks were twitching and a couple of them had their eyes clamped shut while they were breathing heavy. Changbin didn’t just edge you but somehow he edged the others too, ripping away the orgasms of 4 people collectively. Fuck- that’s hot.

Changbin leaned back against one of the poles that held the ropes up, supporting himself as he unhooked his legs from yours. His hands moved to your hips, lifting you up to sit on his stomach while he aligned his cock with your entrance. You let out a whimper in anticipation before he was slamming you down, as hard as he could and burying himself deep inside of you. You screamed out his name when your ass collided with his hips, your hole fluttering and clenching around his cock.

“Fuck! so fucking tight bunny. Sucking in my cock so well, such a greedy fucking cunt.” he groaned out and made sure he was loud enough so that his friends knew how good you felt wrapped around him. He hooked his arms under your thighs and lifted his arms so that your legs were pinned up and against your chest, spread out and on full display for the men watching. His hands found their place behind your neck, craning your neck forward to watch his cock buried deep inside you. Was he really going to fuck you in a full nelson pin?

Yes. Yes he was.

He lifted you slightly off his cock and bent his knees just enough so that he could use his legs to thrust up into you. You watched the languid drag of his cock as he pulled out of your soft walls, just to slam into you as hard as he’d done when he buried himself inside you. Then he set a brutal pace, jack hamming into you hard enough that his balls slapped against your clit, the harsh treatment hurt but in the best of ways.

He had his hips angled to hit your sweet spot over and over again, sure to bruise your cervix with how hard he was pounding into you. Your toes were curling and you were screaming out in pleasure, wanton moans filling the air as your mind began to fill with Tv static. The only things falling from your lips were choked out fucks, ah ah ahs, and a gargled mess of Changbin’s name or at least as close to his name as you could get.

Changbin was grunting and praising you as he wrecked you. “s’good. sucking in my cock so well.” even the other three men were letting out groans and moans of their own while they watched. “Feel so good. You sound so pretty. my good boy, my pretty bunny. fuck!” His hips faltered slightly in his thrusts and stars were erupting behind your eyes as you felt the knot in your gut start to snap.

“Fuck! Fu- Bin Bin Bin! I- I’m! Bin!” you were wailing now, so so close. “Good boy, cum on this cock- show them how good you are for me.” Changbin growled out and that was the final push you needed. Suddenly you were screaming as you came around the cock inside you, clenching hard and squirting all over the mat.

“Holy fuck!” Chan groaned before he spilled into his hand.

“That’s so- ngggh” Jisung whimpered before he hit his own climax

“Shhhh-shit!” Hyunjin cried and his release began coating his hand and the area of skin on his abdomen that wasn’t covered with his shirt.

“Yeah- that’s my good boy. Gimme fill you up- pump you full of my cum.” Changbin groaned into your ear, his thrusts stuttering before stilling completely when he pushed his cock as deep inside of you as possible. His own moans swimming through the fog in your brain before he released the pin he had you in, all 5 of you left panting and feeling fuzzy from your insense orgasms.

You felt like you could pass out any moment as you slumped backwards against Changbin’s shoulder, body trembling in his hold as he held you tight in his arms. Then, before either of you knew it, he felt you turn into dead weight in his arms, letting out a laugh and gaining the attention of his friends.

“Sorry to interrupt your post-nut bliss but um- he’s passed out.” Changbin called out to the three. “What?” Jisung asked confused, his fuzzy brain misfiring and unable to comprehend what was just said. “You- you fucked him so hard he passed out? How the fuck-?” Hyunjin hissed out and stared at Changbin with wide eyes, scanning your form in his lap like he was trying to figure out if he was joking or not.

“My man.” Chan said with pride and tucked his softening cock back into his pants before standing up. “ARE YOU NOT CONFUSED TOO?” Hyunjin shouted and Jisung stared between Chan and Changbin with his mouth agape. “Why would I be surprised? It’s happened to me quite a lot.” Chan responded nonchalantly and strode over to help Changbin.

“YOU WHAT!?” Hyunjin and Jisung shouted in unison, laughter filling the room from Chan and Changbin. Clearly they needed to teach Hyunjin and Jisung a few things. It was safe to say that Changbin had won the wrestling match today, you’ll just have to beat him next time.

[videogamelover99]

[Gravity Falls] A Short Reunion

Summary: Ford had traveled the multiverse without a hint of Bill Cipher's presence in his dreams or nightmares. But a reckless leap into an unknown dimension reestablishes a connection Ford had hoped was long gone. [AO3 Link] Characters: Stanford Pines, Bill Cipher Pairings: BillFord Rating: G

A/N: Yeah idk guys Alex Hirsch really said "Bill and Ford's will they/won't they take over the world relationship" and I had to run with it. The toxic yaoi is canon. Enjoy.

---

"Sir, you sure you wanna go that way?" The border guard, a squat, four-eyed creature in an itchy-looking uniform, asked quietly.

Ford pulled the hood down further on his head. "I must. Why do you ask?"

The guard scratched his head, looking worried. He glanced back at the titanium door to Dimension 76*, and Ford followed his gaze.

He could see the perpetual lightning storm surrounding the entrance and beyond it the dimension itself. It was quite like the depictions he’d come across a few weeks ago, a long narrow, cylindrical corridor, like the inside of a watertube, with walls of electrified mist and an air overflowing with strange fumes.

Supposedly, the corridor stretched out into infinity.

"Uh, no reason," said the guard, "it's not like it's any of my business, but...why'd you wanna go there? No one goes out of their way to seek out visions. They're a bad time, y'know?"

Ford knew. Most visitors to Dimension 76* saw either their death or some kind of impending catastrophe they could not prevent. Most stayed clear away. But if there was a chance he'd see a vision that could help him stop Bill, he had to take it.

"I must," he said again.

The guard shrugged. "Suit yourself, I guess." He stepped away from the entrance.

Ford approached it slowly, peering inside. There didn't seem to be any form of gravity, and so he took a breath and leaped into the corridor.

He felt a slight breeze pick him up as soon as his boots left the ground. He floated slowly away from the entrance, and couldn’t help scrambling to hold onto…something. It was useless of course, he just drifted further.

A bolt of lightning crackled just a few yards away, in the mist.

"Oh yeah!" The guard called out, "It's pretty leaky, mind-wise! Watch out for anyone who'd wanna get into your head."

Oh no.

Before Ford could call out, the guard shut the door to the entrance. An ominous CLANG echoed down the tunnel. Ford shuddered.

It would be fine. Despite the wanted posters and the headhunters constantly after him, Ford had not seen Bill since he'd fallen through the portal. There was no reason to think-

He felt it. A wave of drowsiness bowed him over. He knew it was the onset of a vision before his eyes fell closed, heavy with sleep. He struggled to stay conscious for only a moment, before letting it overtake him.

It would be fine. No need to panic. He'd be just fine.

Ford heard the echo of that familiar, horrible laugh before he knew everything had gone wrong.

But by then it was too late.

...

Ford woke up to see his own familiar mindscape, and it instantly filled him with dread.

"Heya, smart guy!"

Ford turned around so fast he stumbled. The flash of panic and deep-rooted anger evaporated when he saw what Bill was holding.

Bill's eye followed Ford's dumbfounded gaze to the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Hey, heard it doesn't hurt. Token of my goodwill." Bill shoved the flowers into Ford's hands. They smelled like an acid pool and some other, inexplicable flowery scent that wasn't bad, but made him uneasy.

Suddenly, the flowers erupted into a dozen hungry, sharp little mouths, snapping at his face. Ford cried out and dropped the bouquet. The flowers melted into a dark puddle of blood.

"Hey! Kinda rude to throw out a gift, doncha think?" Bill petulantly folded his arms over his front, before his eye crinkled. "Oh, who am I kidding, I can't be mad at you, kid."

His arm extended, a familiar gesture to ruffle Ford's hair, and Ford violently slapped his hand away. "Get out of my head, Cipher!"

"Still mad, huh? Geez, and they say I hold grudges."

Bill winked out of existence and appeared next to Ford with a POP. Ford jerked away, startled. "Come on, you can't be mad at me forever! So I fudged a few details, big deal, it's what I do!"

Anger threatened to bow Ford over, a good part of it aimed at himself. "What are you doing here?"

"Great question!" Bill looked to the side, "Saw you were getting pretty close to an access point and figured 'Hey why not?'" He shrugged. "Haven't had my EYE on you in, what, a week?"

"Five years."

"Oh yeah," Bill said, "Time scales that small get all jumbled up. Who needs seconds? Speaking of!" Bill opened his palm, and a shiny, golden stopwatch materialized in his hand. "It's about time we talked, dontcha think?"

"I have no desire to talk to you."

"Ha ha ha! That'll change."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, you know, I'm about to drop some real bombshells here! So if I were you, I'd hear me out! You're on that whole quest of 'stopping' me and all, who knows what kinda secrets I'd spill if I'm not careful."

Bill had a point that Ford had, unfortunately, considered, if they'd ever meet again. It didn't help that Bill was the one who brought it up in the first place, and it was doubtful he'd give Ford anything more than some dead-end nonsense.

But if Ford said the right thing, and got Bill on edge, then maybe-

"Fine," Ford snapped, "what is it?"

"Good boy," Bill said smugly, and with a snap of his fingers the stopwatch vanished. "Great you decided to stick around, 'cause I'm about to change your mind!"

It's not like I have a choice, Ford thought bitterly.

"I don't think you understand what you're getting if you stick by me, Sixer!"

"I told you, I'd never-"

"INFINITE POWER! Do you have any idea what that means?"

Suddenly, the mindscape around them erupted with light. Ford stumbled, looking down, to see what could only be described as millions of supernovas going off at once.

"You'll never die! Never get old! You'll know everything and get to stick your curious nose into anything you want, just how you like it."

The glow was coming off of Ford's clothing and his hands. He felt like he was on the brink of collapse and bursting with energy all at once, and indescribably ecstatic feeling.

"Infinite possibilities! Infinite choices! Do whatever you want however you want, you get to choose who's right and who's wrong. What do a bunch of ignorant mortals know, anyway? Are they really worth all this? You, running around, getting shot at left and right, are they worth all of that when they couldn't even see who you were beyond some freakish fingers?"

"T-that's irrelevant," Ford tried to shake off the rush of energy, but it clung to him. It was the first time he felt so...

"You'll never be alone."

The words went straight to the bottom of Ford's stomach. He swallowed.

He didn't have to listen to Bill. He didn't have to listen to any of this.

"I don't care."

Bill looked at him for a long time, pupil wide and piercing. "I don't think that's true, kid. Aren't ya tired of running?"

He was. He was tired, hungry, and driven by anxiety and anger every waking moment.

Sometimes, when he got low enough to think, he'd remember his house. He'd trashed it after Bill had betrayed him, but the comfort of a ripped couch was better than the hardness of alien rocks. He'd had food, he'd had a shower.

Sometimes, he'd remember a different home, one near the sea. His mom's terrible cooking, his father's stern, unwavering face.

He made sure, in those moments, not to think of his brother.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Bill said.

Ford turned to look at him, a newfound burn in his chest. "It doesn't matter. I'd rather be alone than give in to you."

Bill let out a frustrated noise that Ford had never heard before. "Oh, come on! That's just petty! You're seriously gonna spend your time eating alien rats when you could be top of the food chain?"

Something didn't sit right with him. "Why do you want me on your side so badly?"

"That's-!" Bill sputtered, sputtered! Ford didn't know what to think. "This isn't about me, wise guy! This is about-"

"Why are you here, Bill?"

"Because you need to get over yourself!"

Bill's shrill voice bounced off the nonexistent walls of the mindscape. Ford uncovered his ears, just to be met with another tirade. "We get it, you fancy yourself a BIG HERO, you wanna play hard to get, but we both know that's never what you're after! You wanted to get rich and famous off some big discovery because you can't stand not getting the attention, well guess what, I'm offering all that on a silver platter! And you're turning your nose up because, what, you're too good for it?"

"I'd never-"

"Shut UP! I'M TALKING!"

Ford shut up.

Bill blinked, "I sure got mad there, huh."

It had felt personal. For a moment, Ford thought (hoped?) that Ford's refusal had truly gotten under Bill's skin. If it was even a fraction of the betrayal Ford had felt. That it wasn't just Bill trying to manipulate him.

"Is that," Ford breathed. "Is that all?"

Bill scowled down at him. "Whatever. You'll be back. We both know you'll be back." He raised a hand. "See ya in your nightmares, kid."

He snapped his fingers.

...

Ford woke up, breathing ragged. He looked around.

He was lying on something solid, a small patch of grass underneath his head. It wasn't Dimension 76* anymore. It had spat him out.

The vision was already slipping away from his memory. There was something odd about it, wasn't there? Something that Bill had said-

But it was gone from his mind, and something told Ford he shouldn't try to remember.